Chapter 68
Chapter 68
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 68
Chapter Title: Testing the Changes
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A few days later, Arsen was able to fully recover not only his leg but all his other injuries thanks to healing spells.
There was still a bit of phantom pain left, but it was merely annoying rather than unbearable.
Once fully recovered, the first thing Arsen did was test his altered body.
Sparring with Bazkal after he finished his guard duty allowed Arsen to vividly feel his changes.
"Hah!"
Bazkal swung his sword with a spirited shout, but Arsen deftly parried it.
He scraped it away with the lower edge of his blade, blocked it with his guard, and finally knocked it aside with the pommel...
He could even deliberately tilt his head just slightly to dodge, letting the blade whistle past his face by a hair's breadth.
Thanks to consistent sparring that had honed his skills and experience, Bazkal was no pushover.
In a one-on-one, it might be different, but if two or three Bazkals attacked at once, even Arsen would have to brace for defeat.
But now, their bout resembled the early days when Bazkal had been little more than a novice who barely knew how to fight.
Thanks to his noticeably improved reflexes, Arsen could block and evade Bazkal's strikes as smoothly as actors in an action movie syncing their choreography.
He even wondered if he could catch a flying sword barehanded.
Of course, he didn't actually try it, lest a mistake cost him his fingers.
Having confirmed his reflexes and reaction speed sufficiently, he next tested his strength by clashing blades and forcefully pressing down.
Originally, Arsen and Bazkal's strength had been evenly matched.
While Arsen had more mana, Bazkal was taller, more muscular, and naturally heavier.
In close combat, body weight translated directly to physical force.
"Ugh!"
But now, Arsen was easily overpowering Bazkal.
When they locked blades and Arsen applied pressure, Bazkal was pushed straight back, and when Arsen struck down from above, he was pinned to the ground.
Seeing Bazkal on the verge of being driven into the dirt, Arsen slowly eased off to prevent the sword from bouncing.
"Good work."
"Huff, pant... Were you going easy on me all this time?"
"No."
Answering Bazkal's question perfunctorily, Arsen looked down at his hands, marked with the scars of harsh training.
His body, which he had believed he knew perfectly—how strong and fast it could be, and how to control it—now felt awkward.
Just like when he had first awakened as a knight.
It wasn't just raw power that had grown stronger; the mana coursing through his body had also increased, if only by a tiny amount.
"Did you perhaps gain a special ability?"
"It's too vague to call it a special ability."
Strength, speed, and even mana—all improved. What else could he call it but a "getting stronger" ability?
From what Arsen had learned, special abilities didn't manifest in such a generic way.
"Do knights suddenly get stronger often? Like a second awakening or something."
"Not that I've heard."
Bazkal pondered for a moment, then snapped his fingers as if remembering something.
"Ah, I just recalled one story!"
"What is it?"
"There was a tale in Narvik about a dragon with red wings long ago. Dragons are basically magic beasts like giant flying lizards..."
"I think I get the idea, so no need to explain."
"Right. Anyway, the story goes that a knight who killed the dragon ate its heart and gained the ability to breathe fire. It's just a fairy tale kids believe, of course. But that raider lord had a serpentine body, so maybe it's some kind of dragon kin?"
Arsen recalled hearing similar myths on Earth. Siegfried and the evil dragon Fafnir he slew. The dragon slayer had bathed in the dragon's blood and gained an invincible body as a result, right?
The context of the stories was strikingly similar, but tales of primitive faiths where one gains power by slaying special beings existed everywhere, so it wasn't particularly unique.
In Eastern lore, snakes or imugis were beings that hadn't yet become dragons, so the "kin" idea might hold some water.
Listening to Bazkal's story jogged a memory Arsen had briefly forgotten due to his fainting spell.
The sensation of something exploding when he pierced the lord's heart, and the feeling of that something seeping into his body—it all came rushing back.
'For now, it doesn't seem like there's any major issue.'
Over the past few days, Arsen had diligently checked for any physical or mental abnormalities.
Since some things might be hard to notice himself, he had also asked Eloise to observe him closely.
But no problems had surfaced.
He had wondered if it might be signs of turning into a Ma-in, but none of the common symptoms—like blackening under the tongue—appeared.
He ran a few more tests afterward.
Lightly pressing a blade against his skin revealed, disappointingly, that he hadn't gained Siegfried-level invincibility.
His senses felt a bit sharper, but not to the dramatic degree of his strength or reflexes.
Arsen tamped down rising hubris, reminding himself that overconfidence was the greatest taboo in such times.
He was still just superhuman, not superhuman in the invincible sense—an ordinary human who could die from a simple spear or sword thrust.
Just like that knight from his past who had died pathetically after taking a javelin to the back during a fight.
For a fighter, carelessness and death were one and the same.
After a few more rounds of sparring to get more accustomed to his body, Arsen finally sheathed his sword.
Bazkal, standing opposite him, was already gasping for breath.
"Sparring ends here for now."
"You've worked hard!"
* * *
"Sir Arsen!"
As Arsen emerged after a quick wash post-sparring, a voice called out to him.
A voice that was unfamiliar yet somehow familiar.
It was Karik, the knight from the western contingent.
Karik's face was completely transformed from their last encounter.
The despair of one abandoned by the world was gone; a faint smile even played on his lips, making Arsen wonder if this was the same man or his twin.
Just days ago, he had seemed over fifty, but now he looked barely forty.
"You're up and about?"
"Thanks to the mage under your command. I don't know if the estate lord passed it on, but thank you again."
Karik was still bandaged in places, his body not fully recovered, but he could walk on his own two feet, which was a good sign.
Despite his age, as a knight, it probably wouldn't take long to fully heal.
A healing spell would speed it up even more.
"Your face looks much better than before."
"It had to. We finally killed that wicked bastard! If we hadn't, I wouldn't have been truly alive even if I survived. So thank you once more, in that sense."
"If anything, I should be thanking you. When I was on top of the lord, if you hadn't leaped in yourself, I would've been done for."
The moment the lord had swung its hand down from above was still chilling to recall.
In truth, Arsen had suspected Karik's intentions back then.
He had wondered if Karik had deliberately stuck close to lure the lord's attack.
Arsen was the leader of a mage-attached unit, and Manar Estate—Karik's home—treated mages as beings to be slain.
But far from betraying him, Karik had voluntarily jumped onto the lord's hand to draw its attention and help Arsen climb up.
"An chance to kill it—why would I care about my life? Even if it tore me in half right there, I would've gone for it."
"So you were determined to kill it even at the cost of your life."
Sensing the unspoken "why go that far?", Karik smiled bitterly and replied.
"In our estate, we believe magic beasts and Ma-in devour the souls of those they kill. To free the souls trapped in their bellies, you have to slay the devourer."
He paused briefly, then added heavily,
"My son was among the victims."
Karik turned his head, gazing off like he was staring at distant mountains.
Seeing that, Arsen could guess why Karik had acted so unhinged before.
Not always, but fathers were beings who could sacrifice much for their children. Sometimes even their own lives.
"I even thought that if I couldn't kill it, I'd die with it. At least then my soul could be with my son... Better than living as the bastard who abandoned his child and fled."
His voice cracked with emotion. Arsen fell silent for a moment.
He didn't commit the folly of lecturing, as those tone-deaf types often did, that it was mere superstition, that dying to follow his son was foolish.
He simply replied with polite gravity.
"I hope all their souls have gone to a good place."
"They have. Unlike me, they were all brave."
Karik wiped his eyes, then spoke in a lighter tone.
"Unfortunately, my fellow countrymen don't welcome mages, so I hesitate to invite you over. But if trouble arises near Manar Estate, seek me out. I'll help no matter what."
* * *
Once all the wounded could walk on their own, the subjugation force returned to the estate.
One knight and a handful of soldiers stayed behind at the fortress to guard the pass against potential attacks.
Upon finally arriving at the estate, Arsen's unit parted from the main force as usual and returned to their original station at the monastery.
It had only been a few days' stay, but after such grueling trials, it felt like coming home.
The voice from beside him suggested Arsen wasn't alone in that sentiment.
"Uwaaaah, now I can finally breathe!"
Stretching grandly, Marun spoke in his usual flippant tone.
"I'd love to hole up here for a month! Though I dread what the elders would say..."
"We'll rest a bit before leaving. Everyone's exhausted."
Arsen didn't miss the fatigue etched on the soldiers' faces.
They'd barely rested from Narvik to Exekia, and even here, after just a few days, they'd been thrown into a massive battle. Their condition couldn't be good.
Arsen himself felt like collapsing from exhaustion, so theirs must be worse.
He had no intention of resting a full month like Marun suggested, but at least a week to recover stamina.
"Can I go check out the village?"
"If you need supplies, have the soldiers buy them. But mages shouldn't go down there."
After sending off the crestfallen Marun, Arsen was about to rest when noise erupted at the monastery entrance.
Someone outside was calling for Arsen.
"Is Sir Arsen here?"
It was a young knight Arsen had never seen before.
The unstable flow of activated mana suggested he had awakened recently.
Likely one of those who had awakened during the expedition, as Bazkal had mentioned.
"Here."
"The estate lord summons you."
It wasn't hard to guess why.
"Understood. Give me a moment to prepare."
* * *
At the estate lord's office, having been here once before, Arsen silently unbuckled his sword and offered it to the guarding soldier.
But the soldier shook his head and refused it.
"Just go in."
"With my weapon?"
"Yes. The estate lord permitted it."
Carrying a weapon into a meeting with the lord was normally forbidden.
Especially for a knight not affiliated with the estate.
"Come on in!"
Seeing the estate lord welcoming him with open arms, Arsen bowed his head politely in greeting.
Among the knights guarding the lord was Kirat, the first knight he had met in the estate.
"I hope I didn't summon you too abruptly."
"It's fine. May I know the reason? Is it about distributing the spoils?"
"Well, spoils and more—we have plenty to discuss."
The heartily laughing estate lord gestured for Arsen to sit opposite him.
As Arsen took his seat, the lord clapped his hands once.
"Alright, let's start with the goods."
Two soldiers brought in a large chest.