Chapter 171
Chapter 171
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 171
Chapter Title: The True Master
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One week had passed since then, and the humans carried out various tasks to solidify their control over the capital.
First, they liberated the human slaves who had been captured by the Ollmu. However, things didn't go as smoothly as hoped.
The term "slave mentality" wasn't coined for nothing—most of the slaves reacted passively, fearing reprisal from their masters if these savage "wild humans" betrayed them and the owners returned later.
"Tell us where the treasure warehouse is, quick! We've heard you know!"
"You insolent scum! Once Master returns..."
"That's why we're telling you—your masters are all dead! This is frustrating as hell, you damn slave bastards!"
Of course, not everyone was like that.
Even though their malnourished bodies weren't in top condition, there were thousands of humans whose spirits remained unbroken, ready to lend a hand.
With their help, they hauled items from warehouses here and there to install additional arrow launchers. Before long, the capital had transformed into a fortress.
In that week, the humans recovered from the wounds of battle while accepting immigrants from other settlements, thereby strengthening their position.
Arsen's group wasn't idle either.
"Come on!"
"Arrrgh!"
Bazkal laughed heartily as he parried the attack from the soldier—no, the knight who had once been a soldier—lunging at him.
His comrades lay beside him, having met the same fate.
They had begun training these soldiers who had awakened as knights during the battle, to help them adjust.
To Arsen, the scene felt strangely familiar.
'I've seen this somewhere before.'
Hadn't it been Arsen himself who had personally trained Bazkal back when he was a knight who barely knew how to fight properly?
Watching Bazkal now training new knights made the flow of time hit home anew.
Even if it had only been a few months.
Nearby, Anun and Rino were sparring.
Rino, once a novice knight, had gained power and speed that overwhelmed Anun thanks to absorbing some of the essence. Yet he wasn't enjoying it as much as expected, due to the vast gap in skill.
"Hup!"
"Lower body's open! Make it sturdier!"
Meanwhile, Arsen trained alone a short distance away, gripping Isht's spear—now his beloved weapon.
His spear movements, slowly honing his technique, weren't fast at all.
So slow that onlookers might think he was crawling.
'Not easy.'
Arsen had absorbed some essence this time, evolving to another stage.
Contrary to Kren's words, he had succeeded in absorbing essence a second time even after the first.
He could guess the reasons all too well.
It might be due to his unique bloodline, or perhaps the lord's essence wasn't enough to reach his innate "limit."
Or maybe the essence from that monster that appeared this time was special.
The important thing was that he needed to adapt to his changed body once more.
It was hard to get help from others.
Not even Bazkal or Rino, who had become middling high knights, nor Anun, who hadn't reached high knight level—they were all too weak to spar with him.
To match Arsen now, one needed at least Kren's caliber.
'Could I beat Sir Kren now?'
Arsen conjured a imaginary opponent before his eyes.
Gray hair like a lion's mane, a middle-aged knight wielding a longsword.
He recreated that wind-like movement and lightning-fast strikes perfectly.
'Let's see.'
Facing the approaching foe, Arsen raised his spear.
* * *
Sparring with an invisible opponent—a kind of shadow boxing—would draw ridicule if done by an amateur.
Done by an expert, it would inspire awe.
But now, everyone watching Arsen's imaginary duel stood with mouths agape.
In shock, filled with reverence.
"..."
"Words fail me."
"Sir Anun, think you could hold your own?"
"I swear on the whole pantheon, absolutely not."
Arsen's movements were now dizzying even to fellow knights.
Whether shifting his body or swinging his weapon, even they struggled to follow. They could barely track the afterimages of his speed.
Completely tuning out the surrounding admiration, Arsen immersed himself in the duel against the enemy only he could see.
The imaginary Kren, constructed from past memories.
Arsen had set the opponent strictly.
This foe was stronger, faster, and more cunning than the real Kren he'd fought. It never made easy moves Arsen could exploit, attacking in the vilest, most unwanted ways.
Yet Arsen was holding his own against such a Kren.
Something unimaginable before.
'I can win!'
His martial prowess was still sorely lacking.
No matter how genius Arsen's talent with weapons, true mastery was built over years.
But with his vastly superior strength and speed, the gap had narrowed greatly. Even with slightly inferior technique, Arsen could now stand on equal footing with Kren.
After repeated strikes, sweeps, twists, and throws, Arsen won twice and lost five times against Kren.
"Hoo..."
Even in defeat, Arsen's face was bright. With just a bit more training to adapt to his new body, he was confident he could win ten out of ten.
As he basked in that joy, Arsen noticed the other knights staring blankly and asked,
"...Why aren't you training? Want to spar with me or something?"
"N-No, sir!"
* * *
After washing off the sweat, Arsen went to find Eloise.
She was deep in conversation with other mages, her voice so loud it carried dozens of meters away.
"That's why it's not some vague cloud-gathering nonsense—you have to circulate mana through the third node from the bottom to make it work!"
"I don't know about your 'cloud-gathering,' but as we understand it..."
Eloise and the mages were in heated debate over a book on the desk.
Watching from afar for a bit, Arsen saw that every time she explained something, the surrounding mages floundered in confusion.
The Starbelly mages seemed to keep up somewhat, but the cavern mages struggled even to grasp the concepts, their level being so low.
[Eli, maybe explain a bit more gently. People resist even valid points if they feel corrected.]
[Sen?]
Eloise whipped her head around in surprise, then quickly declared a break.
He heard relieved sighs from the other mages.
Moments later, spotting Arsen, she asked,
"Was my voice carrying all the way over here?"
"Yeah. My hearing's gotten sharper."
And your voice that much louder, he swallowed. What girl likes hearing she's loud?
Missing the subtext, Eloise smiled happily.
"So, how's the progress?"
"Decent. These personal research notes aren't exactly user-friendly, but I think we can make artifacts for the arrow launchers at least."
During cleanup, humans had found a small study in Yerika's quarters, filled with her research books.
They were haphazard scribbles on magic at best, but since she was a master mage capable of crafting permanent magical items herself, the books held immense value.
Studying them for days had advanced the mages greatly in magical knowledge.
"Oh yeah, we found something this time—a description of the Ollmu creation process."
"Really?"
Eloise explained in a calm tone.
"You remember I brought a magic tool from the surface that could tamper with bloodlines?"
"Yeah."
"Yerika figured out what gene makes humans fear mages and managed to manipulate something similar to some extent."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah."
Yerika had mutated the gene in Ollmu that repelled mages like humans did, applying it only to herself. Then twisted it from aversion to worship and awe.
"She wasn't even sure it'd work on herself. So she made regular Ollmu vulnerable to magic to subdue them easily."
"So that means..."
"Yeah. If we get that mutation device, we could modify humans too. Make them not reject mages."
Unfortunately, the device down here was long destroyed beyond repair.
It had been smashed by human resistance fighters when Yerika led the Ollmu to war.
At least Starbelly had confirmed such a method existed for their wishes, and they were cheering wildly.
"Well, it's a shame, but that's also how humans survived this long..."
Then, a cavern dweller approached Arsen.
"S-Sir Arsen?"
Hesitant demeanor, trembling voice.
The cavern dwellers now revered and feared Arsen. Awe was the word—like toward a god.
"Uncle Timak wants a quick word."
* * *
"Oh, Sir Arsen! You've come!"
"Yes."
"My apologies. I should've come myself, but I've been swamped."
His gaunt face made it clear it wasn't just an excuse.
For days, Timak had barely slept, directing everything in the capital.
Ransacking warehouses for rearmament, helping liberated slaves socialize and rearm, requisitioning supplies to accept immigrants.
A normal person would need ten bodies.
"It's fine. What is it?"
"Good news came in. Thought you should know too."
At Timak's gesture, an Ollmu appeared moments later, led by a soldier.
Bruised and tightly bound, it screamed prisoner.
Now humans could capture Ollmu as POWs. With a secure base, no more hiding.
"One hiding in the capital?"
Timak chuckled at Arsen's question.
"Wrong. This one's from the human extermination army!"
Timak explained what he'd learned from interrogating the prisoner.
"Infighting?"
"Yes. Commanders split into factions, apparently? This one's a straggler from the losing side. Got separated, wandered, and caught near the capital."
Humans had expected the conscripted Ollmu army—meant to attack them—to counterattack en masse to retake the capital, so they'd been frantically rearming.
But this intel shattered that entirely.
With the king dead and mental bonds broken, the Ollmu had begun clashing among themselves.
"Glad tidings, at least."
"Indeed. Gives us breathing room, and if their numbers thin enough, we can counterattack."
Once the remnants were mopped up, only magic beasts would threaten humans underground. A true happy ending.
"Truly fortunate."
Nodding, Arsen listened as Timak rambled on.
Capital's status, supplies, outlook, even rewards for Arsen.
He looked like a prime minister reporting national affairs to the king.
Mid-explanation, Timak said as if just remembering,
"Oh, almost forgot. Sir Arsen, Shatia was looking for you."
"Auntie?"
"Yes. Said it's family business."
Arsen stroked his chin unconsciously. He could easily guess why Shatia sought him now.
Especially if family matters.
"Got it. I'll visit and talk. But first, a small favor before I go."
"What?"
"Nothing hard—just draft one document."
* * *
Shatia's face was heavy when she found Arsen.
The expression of someone forced to broach a topic they'd rather bury.
That confirmed his suspicions, so Arsen stayed utterly composed as she spoke.
"You want Isht's spear returned."
"Yes. I believe weapons belong in their master's hands, but the village elders... anyway, those senile fools. If they're gonna age, do it gracefully. Why venerate something they can't even use."
Shatia spat curses and stomped the floor. Knightly strength made it echo loudly.
"Father—er, the patriarch—wants you to keep it too, but there's fierce backlash in the clan. Many opposed giving Isht's spear to a half-blood like you from the start. Now that the crisis is over, they're hounding to get it back."
"As expected."
Nodding, Arsen looked at Shatia.
"Can you still contact the patriarch?"
"A few words, briefly."
"Tell him I'm coming in person. Formally visiting."
With Ollmu in civil war, time was on his side. Arsen planned to settle the spear's ownership definitively.
Through a "formal visit."