Chapter 96
Chapter 96
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 96
Chapter Title: Clash with the Gray Lion
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At Rasur's call, one of the knights turned around.
The first thing Arsen noticed upon seeing him was that he was shorter than expected.
Perhaps just over 190 cm—tall by common standards, but among knights, he was unmistakably on the shorter side, if not quite a dwarf.
Yet it would be a mistake to underestimate him based on his build alone. His presence was overwhelmingly intense.
Gray hair scattered like a lion's mane, flowing into muttonchops and a beard; sharp eyes reminiscent of a white-headed eagle; a scar running across the center of his face.
He had the look of a seasoned male lion brimming with dignity.
Moreover, the mana emanating from his body was formidable—on par with Arsen's, whose own mana had grown considerably of late.
Knight Kren wiped the sweat from his brow as he spoke.
"You're back. How'd the scouting go?"
"We still haven't broken through the first floor. The Wigon Ruins are tougher than they look. Looks like I'll need your help after all. But this time, I'm not alone. Take a look."
Only then did Kren's gaze shift toward Arsen at Rasur's words.
Arsen bowed his head politely in greeting.
"It's an honor to meet you, Sir Kren. I'm Arsen of Belluan."
Given the man's status, Arsen adopted a slightly more deferential posture than he would with a fellow knight.
Along with the greeting, he snapped his fingers lightly, as was customary.
Kren responded by stomping his foot once, then silently stared at Arsen without a word.
For over ten seconds, he continued like that, saying nothing.
Just as Arsen wondered if he'd made some mistake and opened his mouth to speak again, Kren let out a hum, nodded, and turned his head away.
Rasur chuckled.
"See? He likes you."
"Is that so?"
"The guy's a bit shy. Doesn't talk much unless you're close. Once you are, though, he's surprisingly chatty."
No matter how you looked at it, his appearance didn't scream shy or chatty, but personality doesn't always match looks.
Arsen decided to respect this formidable knight's shyness.
"I came to offer my thanks, since Sir Rasur helped me out this time, and now I'll be receiving your assistance as well."
Assuming the man was too shy to respond, Arsen began explaining on his own.
What had happened, how it had been resolved, and how Kren's name had come into play during the process.
Rasur occasionally chimed in from the side with a "I see" or "That's right," but Kren focused solely on swinging the weapon in his hands.
One could hardly call it a conversation, but somehow, it proceeded that way.
As the explanation wrapped up, Kren turned to look at Arsen.
"Hand."
"Pardon?"
"Let me see your hand."
At Kren's request, Arsen extended his hand without hesitation.
As they clasped hands, Arsen recalled his past encounter with Bazkal and prepared to match his grip with moderate strength.
But it wasn't long before Arsen realized how arrogant that thought had been.
The grip strength transmitted from Kren's hand was beyond imagination.
"Gh...!"
The pressure felt like it would crush his hand to pieces. Desperate to endure it, Arsen poured all his strength into his own grip.
Kren was dressed in a shirt, likely for training, and veins bulged across his exposed forearms.
That sight proved Kren was giving it his all as well.
After a tense stalemate perfectly matched for a dozen seconds or so, Kren released his grip first.
"That's no normal strength. Where'd you get it?"
At the question, Arsen couldn't help but think of the Mountain Raider Lord.
The source of this unnaturally powerful physical prowess had begun there.
Though he secretly hoped this might reveal more about that power, Arsen played it off for now.
"What do you mean?"
"Did you kill some insanely powerful magic beast and take something glowing from its head or heart? Or snag something similar from some ancient ruin? One or the other, right?"
Kren spoke rapidly, as if his earlier gruffness had been a lie.
The question brought back the sensation Arsen had felt when he pierced the Lord's heart—something permeating his entire body.
"Something like that. You too, Sir Kren?"
"Once went south on a pilgrimage and took down a magic beast the size of a mountain. Thick legs, sharp tusks, long flexible trunk."
Kren's description evoked an elephant.
Of course, for a knight accustomed to battling magic beasts larger than ordinary elephants—and calling it "mountain-sized"—it was no mere elephant.
A shoulder height of around 20 meters wouldn't have been surprising.
"There's this thing called essence. It dwells in long-lived magic beasts or ruins. When a knight absorbs it, their body becomes astonishingly strong, and rarely, they awaken unique abilities."
Arsen recalled a vague story he'd heard once about a knight who slew a dragon and gained the ability to breathe fire. Had that been from Bazkal?
He glanced at Rasur, who shook his head with a startled expression.
"I didn't know either. Keeping this from me, huh?"
"Wasn't keeping it secret. You didn't ask."
"Well... I know that's just how you are."
Rasur laughed in exasperation but didn't press further.
As if he'd said all he wanted to, Kren returned to swinging his weapon in training.
Watching him, Arsen posed a question.
"Would it be all right to ask more about essence? If it's sensitive information, feel free not to answer."
Kren nodded while swinging his weapon.
It passed so lightly it might have been part of his training motion.
Even so, Arsen took it as permission to continue.
"Are there any side effects from acquiring essence?"
"Not that I know of. It's been fifteen years since I got mine, and I've never felt anything. Seen a few others who got it too—no issues there."
His ability to speak naturally while swinging his weapon, without disrupting his breathing, was astounding.
Arsen wondered if he could learn that skill, but for now, Kren's words put him somewhat at ease.
"Thank you for sharing. Have you seen many other knights who've obtained essence besides me?"
"Four. Two of them in this city."
Arsen wasn't sure whether to lament that more knights like him existed or to be relieved that side effects were virtually nonexistent.
"Can a knight who has essence acquire more?"
"Impossible."
Kren's responses were growing shorter now, as if he'd grown annoyed.
The speed of his weapon swings increased too, to the point where even Arsen would struggle to follow without using his abilities.
No—this surpassed mere physical prowess.
Without something like a special ability at work, even Arsen couldn't move that way.
"Tell me more about the south?"
At Arsen's question, Kren's weapon came to a sudden halt.
Then it pointed straight at him.
"Too wordy."
As Arsen stared blankly, unsure of the meaning, Rasur translated from the side.
"He wants to see your skills."
* * *
Since he'd already brought his weapon, preparations for the spar were quickly done.
With Kren's subordinates—who had been lounging in the hall—gathered to watch, Arsen steadied his breathing as he eyed Kren in his sparring armor.
In this ruin city teeming with hundreds of knights, he was one of the top three powerhouses.
An opportunity to witness his prowess firsthand.
'How strong is he, exactly...?'
Among the knights Arsen had seen in the past, the strongest had been Belluan's Ramun Knight.
Arsen now had confidence he could win, but back then, Ramun—with all the skills a knight should possess, plus powerful abilities—had been Belluan's undisputed strongest, an insurmountable wall for Arsen.
And the Kren before him now was undoubtedly stronger than even that Ramun.
"Ready up. You know the rules, right?"
One of Kren's subordinate knights acted as referee, swinging a flag.
"Begin!"
Kren's weapon was a broad-bladed greatsword, its length that of an average adult and its blade wider than a handspan.
Even among knights, only those with exceptional strength could wield it comfortably.
Arsen's longsword looked like a stick by comparison.
"If possible, switch weapons."
To tell a knight outright to change his weapon was quite rude.
Most would take offense.
But Arsen pondered why Kren would say such a thing and what lay behind it.
"Because of strength?"
"Mm."
Kren nodded silently.
Evidently, given his superior strength to ordinary knights, he needed a weapon substantial enough to channel it fully.
Conveniently, Arsen had acquired that relic axe recently.
He'd only wielded an axe hastily in his childhood, so he'd need practice, but...
"Here I come."
With a light word, Kren charged.
'Fast!'
He'd seemed far off a moment ago, but in an instant—like tape fast-forwarded—Kren was upon Arsen.
Their weapons clashed.
"Grh."
Arsen let out an involuntary groan.
Even before gaining the Lord's power, he'd been one of Belluan's top knights in man-to-man combat, and after essence, he'd never lost a one-on-one.
But now, Arsen couldn't help recalling a knight from Atar Estate he'd fought during a southern campaign.
A veteran who'd held the advantage even against a joint assault with Eloise.
While Arsen had a slight edge in raw strength, Kren boasted far superior speed.
And at equal weight, speed equated to destructive power.
"Oh? Holding your weapon steady against Kren's strikes?"
Ignoring Rasur's admiring comment from the side, Arsen exchanged blows with Kren several times.
Each time, he tried techniques like tangling blades to thrust at the chest or parrying overhead strikes to counter at the shoulder.
But all attempts failed.
Unlike Arsen, who hadn't fully adapted to his essence-enhanced body despite constant training, Kren seemed to control his perfectly.
His footwork, his swings—everything had a tempo and form distinct from ordinary knights.
Plus what appeared to be his special ability: overwhelming speed.
Outmatched in technique perfection and combat experience, a pure skill duel would end swiftly.
"Hup!"
Finally, Arsen unleashed one of his signature moves: close-quarters combat.
The moment their weapons locked high, a sharp low kick to the shin.
In truth, this was an exploit enabled by their sparring armor.
It covered the upper body and thighs but left below the knee exposed.
Full battle armor protecting the shins would have neutralized the kick.
Even so, it proved effective—Arsen glimpsed Kren's expression change for the first time.
Pain twisted it slightly, yet intrigue overrode it in a strange mix.
Seeing that face, Arsen felt he'd made some mistake.
"Fun!"
With those words, Kren's greatsword flew again.
* * *
"Hah... haa..."
After a breathless high-speed exchange that left him unable to catch his breath properly, Arsen raised both hands, gasping raggedly.
Kren's greatsword hovered at his throat.
"I yield."
As the blade withdrew, applause erupted.
Rasur, who'd watched the spar, and Kren's subordinates.
"Impressive—truly impressive!"
"Someone actually holding their own against the captain...?"
"Sir Knight, ever thought of joining our excavation team?"
"Regrettably, I already made the offer."
Amid whistles and cheers, Arsen debated whether to take it as mockery or praise.
But their faces showed no teasing—only awe.
"I learned a great deal. Thank you, Sir Kren."
He meant it sincerely.
The spar had humbled his growing arrogance and shown him the path forward.
The combat style of a knight stronger than most, wielding immense physical prowess with mastery.
It would have taken solitary trial and error otherwise, but his unique dynamic vision had captured it clearly.
Mastering Kren's style would let him behead the likes of Janak with ease.
But Kren's next words dispelled that gratitude.
"Not yet."
"Not yet?"
"Still lacking. Pick up your weapon."