Chapter 75
Chapter 75
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 75
Chapter Title: The Blowing Wind
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A sheer cliff hidden in a dense mountain valley.
Precarious buildings perched atop its steep face.
This was the headquarters of the southern independence army, the Blade of Revolution.
"Leader!"
A man shouted as he hurriedly climbed the narrow stairs connecting the buildings.
He flung the door open with unstoppable momentum.
The man brewing tea in the room turned to face his suddenly arrived subordinate.
He was a giant with bulging eyes, copper skin, and a head a full size larger than most others.
His bare upper body was covered in scars that twisted like serpents.
He was the head of the Blade of Revolution, the southern spear, the Black Meteor.
That was what preceded Drakan's name.
"What's got you in such a tizzy this time?"
"Tizzy? This is huge news!"
Drakan plopped down on a chair made of animal hide.
"Spit it out."
"Lordr Heiser is dead!"
Drakan stared silently at Pujo, who spoke as if he'd uncovered the world's greatest secret.
"......"
"Leader, you aren't going senile, are you? Don't you know who Lordr Heiser is?"
"I know, you idiot."
"Then why no reaction?"
"Should I throw a fit like you?"
"That's not it, but you really know? It's suspicious."
"I know, damn it. But so what? What's it change if some washed-up old guy's gone? Does independence just drop in our laps? We keep doing what we're doing."
"Hoo, cool as ice, huh?"
Pujo's eyes widened as he looked at him.
"But they say the White Lion saved him."
"White Lion?"
"The hot topic these days."
"I know. Dying to cross swords with him."
"You'd lose, Leader. He's a Sword Master now. Makes five on the continent."
He'd taken down the Special Task Force, the Steppe Jackals, and the Royal Knights single-handedly. And the divine feats he'd shown saving Lordr Heiser.
It was undeniable now: he was a Sword Master.
Everyone was buzzing that a Sword Master had emerged from Francia.
Drakan raised a massive fist in irritation at Pujo's words.
"I know! That's why I wanna fight him! You want a beating?"
Pujo scratched his head with an awkward grin.
"I thought you didn't know."
"Alra came and told me way before you got here."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Charwin too."
"Hoo. They're quick."
"You're the fifth."
"Huh? Do those bastards have their own intel network?"
Another voice called from outside.
"Leader!"
Drakan sighed and shook his head.
Damn fools.
Their chain of command might as well be thrown out.
Their loyalty in rushing barefoot to be the first to inform him was admirable, but they swarmed every time instead of sending one rep.
He couldn't smash all their heads.
Drakan waved him off in exasperation.
"I'm sick of hearing it, Pujo. Round up everyone left in headquarters, including that idiot outside, and pass this on."
Pujo nodded.
"Whether Lordr Heiser croaks or the White Lion pup runs wild, it doesn't concern us. We stick to our path. So quit the fussing and prep properly for tomorrow's battle. Got it?"
Pujo nodded again.
Not enough, Drakan added a threat.
"And tell 'em: anyone wasting my time again gets tarred and hung outside. Clear?"
"Of course. You think I'm an idiot?"
You are an idiot.
Drakan swallowed the retort to avoid more hassle. Pujo, thrilled to share the news, dragged in Jasmine—who'd entered beaming like he'd found a world secret—and headed out.
"Whew."
Watching them, a sigh rose from deep within.
Finally quiet, Drakan pondered the White Lion in the still room.
'A Sword Master in Francia...'
Starchi, the only one in the Blade of Revolution who could think straight, had said the northern White Lion might spark independence fervor.
And that it might not all be good for them.
He got it.
They dreamed of a different world.
'So it doesn't matter.'
He picked up a teacup tiny in his huge hand.
'We just follow our path anyway.'
Anyone blocking it—independence army or not—gets swept away. That's all.
* * *
As always, the impassive Lake sought out Lucian with intel on the White Lion.
"Stis City news, just by looking."
Lucian knew what he brought from his usual expression.
"Yes."
Lake relayed the info flown in by carrier pigeon. Lucian read it calmly.
Concise details filled the small page.
He already knew the prior situation, so grasping the big picture was easy.
"He passed in the end."
Lucian closed his eyes briefly, praying for Francia's last star's eternal rest.
He opened them and said,
"Genesis seems fine."
"Yes. Now everyone knows he's a Sword Master."
Five Sword Masters on the continent now. Francia's people couldn't help but be shaken, regardless of other kingdoms' views.
"The other independence armies will start watching us now."
"Probably."
Lucian nodded.
Same destination, different dreams at the end.
Each had their reasons for independence, roles to play, and visions for the nation after.
"Unified them won't be easy."
"I know. But they're all Francia citizens wanting independence. We can embrace all their visions of the country. We must."
Lake gazed at the resolute Lucian.
A tough task, but he'd pull it off.
That's the man before him.
If embracing others was bowl size, Lucian's was unmatched.
He had the power to sway hearts.
That's why Lake followed him.
Lucian said,
"Genesis will head straight to the capital now."
"Likely."
Lucian rose and flung open the casement window.
A fresh gust rushed in.
His hair fluttered in the wind.
Gazing at the vast estate beyond, he said,
"Our time to move comes soon."
"Preparations are perfect."
Lucian smiled faintly at Lake's assurance.
Turbulent winds blew from afar.
He could almost see the fervor spreading through Francia's grassroots.
His role: gather it, make it blaze fiercely.
The spark: Halent's head rolling.
* * *
A week had passed since hearing of Genesis.
He was due any moment.
"Injured and delayed, maybe?"
Iriel glanced at Nederman while slicing her thick steak. He shrugged.
"No idea. Quit fretting and eat."
"Who's fretting?"
"The type who dips steak in jam? Better admit worrying than look deficient."
Iriel shoved meat in her mouth with an "oh no."
Allen soothed her.
"It's fine. I dip meat in jam when lost in thought sometimes."
"First time ever!"
Iriel protested indignantly.
Nederman shook his head at them.
"Idiots bonding so nicely. That monster injured? Guess he's human after all. Kinda satisfying."
The two glared daggers at his smirk.
"What's with your personality?"
"Be big-hearted, not a punk."
Nederman chuckled.
"Probably minor. Humanizes him nicely."
If Genesis had fled gravely wounded, Halent wouldn't publicize it—he'd hunt him down.
So he'd return safe.
"True, but his mood now..."
Allen's words sank the mood.
Reminded of Lordr's death.
Tainan's streets were gloomy lately.
A new Sword Master was joyous, yet bittersweet.
But it stirred not despair, but anticipation.
They sensed some massive event brewing beyond prediction.
"Still, seeing his power, Lordr went peacefully. No need to mope. We're toasting his survival—that's the situation. Surviving that? Monster."
"Due any minute. Shall we greet him?"
Allen fidgeted anxiously. Nederman eyed him incredulously.
"Loyal but dumb pup right here. How do you greet when you don't know when or where? Wait quietly. He's no lost fool."
A knock came from the dining room door then.
Knock knock.
All three turned.
"Come in."
A servant's flushed face appeared at Nederman's okay.
"Genesis is back!"
"Genesis? How's he?"
Nederman shot up, eyes wide.
"Huh?"
"How bad? Ragged clothes like a beggar? I await that lofty guy's disheveled look."
"I only got the report, so I don't..."
The servant shook his head flustered.
Allen and Iriel eyed Nederman—like roadside trash—berating him.
"How's anyone's personality like that?"
They shook their heads.
"Quit yapping and let's go!"
Iriel yelled. Nederman snapped to, slapping his forehead.
"Right, see for ourselves. Stupid me. What're you waiting for? Let's go! Can't wait to see his state!"
Nederman led excitedly; Allen and Iriel followed.
Rushing to the central courtyard, they spotted a figure approaching with sun at his back.
His gait alone exuded overwhelming presence.
Unmistakably Genesis.
"Ge-Genesis!"
Allen bolted to greet him. Watching his back, Nederman snorted—no loyal hound needed—and examined Genesis closely.
Then stiffened, scowling deeply.
"Damn it."
All that anticipation.
Defying Nederman's hopes, Genesis looked impeccably as ever.
Spare clothes explained attire, but complexion and movements showed zero discomfort.
He'd expected minor injury at worst, not unscratched.
'...That monstrous bastard.'
Lives life so boringly.
* * *
"You sure you're really okay?"
Rushing Allen poked and prodded me fussily.
His hair had grown quite long, the porcupine head bobbing everywhere.
I smacked that head for old times' sake.
Thwack!
"Argh!"
I chuckled at him clutching it, staggering back.
"Hair's long now. Feels off."
"Took so much work growing it!"
Allen wailed, petting his locks preciously. Iriel hovered awkwardly nearby, her hair longer into a short bob.
My stare flustered her into babble.
"Wh-what? Expecting a big hug for safe return?"
What the hell's she on about.
These guys, though.
"You've entered Expert realm."
My words drew a grin from sour-faced Nederman.
"See? This body's handiwork. No kid-rearing experience, but treated 'em like my own. You no idea my suffering. Anyway, truly unscathed? Even a scratch would thrill."
"Skip it. You all look well-fed."
While I busted my ass, their faces glowed.
"Well-fed? Thought we'd die!"
"Right! Trained day and night!"
"Me too. Think wrangling two brats easy?"
All protesting in unison—they'd worked hard. I finally felt satisfied.
I turned to Nederman.
"Let's go to Cardron now."
Bags handed to servants for rooms—no delay.
I'd wrap remaining matters swiftly.
Long journey, but no fatigue; my mood urgent yet steady.
Eager to sever Halent's head ASAP.
Near month circling Stis City meant intel on Emotel Island—the prince headed there—City of Immortality deciphering, and Nester Temple outlines should be ready.
"You all come too."
I'd bring Nederman, Allen, Iriel.
"Good call. He dodged explaining till you came—dying of curiosity."
"Perfect."
We followed Nederman to Cardron's office.
Allen and Iriel chattered nonstop beside.
"Ate well? Look a bit thinner."
"Missed us, huh? Now you know our worth?"
Iriel tilted her chin smugly.
I admitted readily.
"Yeah. Without you, I realized."
All three—no, the trio—beamed.
"Finally wised up."
"Right. So I'll use you properly from now."
Not the conclusion they wanted.
"Wha—no! How'd it go there?"
Flustered Iriel gawked.
Why?
"True flavor known to those who've eaten much meat."
Alone this trip, I'd brainstormed optimal ways to work these tools.
Thus.
"Brought brilliant ideas—get excited."
They all shot me blank stares.
Faces said results highly satisfactory.
Plenty to mess with—mood lifted.
"Ah, seriously! No such thing!"
As protesting Iriel fumed, we reached the office.
She clamped her mouth shut.
Door opened; Cardron greeted us smiling broadly.
Knew I arrived, so he'd cleared his schedule.
"Welcome back alive. Unscathed, unlike rumors."
"As you see. Straight to business."
I sat.
No time for chit-chat.
He grinned.
"Temper unchanged. All ready to hear, so let's begin."