Chapter 14
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 14
Chapter Title: Gathering of Talents
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Pador County.
Its central street was teeming with people.
There had always been crowds, but now it wasn't just the territory's residents. Outsiders of all sorts had flooded in, filling the place with a riot of colors.
It was like a man who always wore a single-color outfit trying on layers of different clothes.
All eyes were on the stele in the central plaza.
That drab black hunk of stone—what's so special about it?
I'll show you firsthand that it's no ordinary rock.
As I stood before the stele, murmurs rippled through the crowd from all directions.
"Isn't that boy Lord Deyan?"
"Is he really going to participate?"
"Nah, no way. He went into Trial Valley half-baked once and came out with injuries he'll carry for life."
"Probably just here to watch."
Hear that?
Just approaching this stele gets this kind of reaction.
Crackle!
Suddenly, bronze letters engraved themselves on the stele, and my name appeared in huge script.
A bronze pattern also etched onto the back of my hand—the crest symbolizing House Pador.
The people who'd been whispering about whether I'd join erupted in cheers, applause, and whistles.
"Hahaha! We believe in you, Lord Deyan!"
"Knew you'd enter!"
"That courage alone makes you awesome!"
This is embarrassing.
Get the picture now?
This stele is the registration point for entering Trial Valley.
It might seem flashy, but nothing shows off your guts publicly quite like it.
I lingered until the stares died down, then headed to the shop where Marian and Nellin waited.
But... what on earth are they doing?
Marian and Nellin sat on the terrace with a perfect view of the stele...
"Left side!"
"Clear!"
"Right side!"
"Clear!"
The two girls hid their faces behind books and food, scanning the outsiders entering the plaza.
Didn't they think this would look suspicious?
Especially...
"Look at that one. His clothes are really..."
Munch munch.
"...unique?"
Nellin chomped away at the massive bread she'd been holding.
Was she trying to blend in... or just here to eat?
It'd be nice if she finished eating before talking.
The problem was Marian had picked up the habit too, constantly hiding behind her book with just her eyes peeking out.
I needed to stop them before they drew even more attention.
"Wouldn't it be better to just act natural?"
"No, young master...! The competitors are watching us!"
Everyone knows I'm an invalid, though?
"Exactly, young master. But young master! We need to disguise ourselves. The bread keeps disappearing! We should order more!"
The bread was already half-gone, like a crescent moon.
"Nellin, maybe you don't have to eat it all?"
"Eat it? Me?"
That mouth doesn't stop.
It's pure instinct.
If Nellin showed that kind of dedication to martial arts, the world might have witnessed the descent of an empress.
Anyway, as I kept scanning the street, I spotted someone strolling casually down the main road.
What the hell's with this guy?
Looks pretty capable.
A long spear bigger than his body.
Slightly droopy eyes and a yawning mouth that screamed boredom.
The silver-haired boy stretched as he plopped down at our terrace table.
"I'm starving..."
He looked so languid and tired, draping his body over the table like a sloth.
But... he's got some real talent.
This level would hold up anywhere. The mana swirling around him scanned the surroundings sharply, belying that sleepy face.
Peak ninth realm?
One of the top late-stage experts, no less.
What's his deal?
"Over here."
His voice was as limp as his posture.
The silver-haired boy raised a hand to call the waiter.
The server approached.
"What can I get you?"
"Anything. Whatever's fastest."
"Yes, sir. That'll be one silver coin."
"Hold on."
The silver-haired boy rummaged in his pocket for a moment.
"Huh?"
He scratched his head and stood up.
"No money. Sorry, I'll pass."
Quick thinker.
Should I play the generous benefactor?
"Just eat. It's on me."
"Hm...?"
The silver-haired boy glanced my way. I tossed him a silver coin. He caught it smoothly and smirked.
"For me?"
Marian saw it and leaned toward me.
"Young master, he looks like a beggar! You can't just give money away! It's precious!"
Fair enough, from Marian's money-loving perspective.
"It's fine. He looks capable of repaying it."
"How would you know?!"
"Trust me."
I calmed Marian and turned back to the silver-haired boy.
"Consider it a debt. How about telling me your name in return?"
"Andrew. Andrew."
Aha.
I know who he is now. Rare silver hair, that spear wrapped in cloth, and an aura rivaling late-stage ninth realm experts.
No one but the Tral Clan—spear masters extraordinaire—could produce that kind of presence.
Marian and Nellin had overheard, their eyes going wide.
"Andrew?! The Tral Clan genius?!"
"I'm dead."
Marian realized her slip and clutched her head. Nellin, in shock... finished the bread?
Marian jumped up, bowing repeatedly.
The Tral Clan was renowned for spear arts, on par with House Pador as one of the four great houses. No wonder it scared her.
Andrew waved it off with a laugh.
"It's fine. I am a beggar."
His joking demeanor drew a chuckle from me. He was as laid-back as he looked.
Then... Andrew sniffed the air and turned his gaze somewhere.
A server was approaching with food where his eyes landed.
"Ah...?!"
The server soon placed a mouthwatering meal before Andrew.
He must've been starving; he inhaled the bacon and simple toast like a vacuum.
He even licked the plates clean before finally rubbing his belly in satisfaction. Only then did he look at me.
"Wait, what's your name? Gotta know who to repay."
"Deyan. Deyan."
"Deyan...? Got it memorized. I'll pay you back after Trial Valley ends!"
"Do what you want."
"Alright then. See ya."
With his belly full and business done, he stood. He waved one hand at the stele, the other at Marian... and tripped backward.
"Hahaha!"
"Hey, watch it!"
Laughter rang out from the crowd. Andrew scratched his head sheepishly.
"The Tral Clan doesn't support their kids until adulthood, huh? Seems true."
"Yeah, not even a single servant."
Despite the clownish antics, Andrew's spear skills were top-tier, making him a strong contender picked by servants at the embroidery gathering.
But who would recognize him like this?
The central plaza, briefly blooming with laughter thanks to Andrew, was soon drowned by another commotion.
Clattering footsteps and loud voices.
"Make way! Out of the way! Heir Inschtain of the Great Whale Merchant Group is passing through!"
At the source rode a boy on horseback, surrounded by dozens of servants and knights, head held arrogantly high.
Total opposite of Andrew.
Inschtain, huh...
Unlike Andrew, I remembered him.
In my past life, he'd strutted around in flashy clothes, bragging about money. Unforgettable.
"Ugh, what a loser."
Nellin scowled at the group hogging the street.
Even prim-and-proper Marian frowned in agreement.
"Right? You can tell at a glance. That's the son of that merchant from Tern."
"Yeah, who else acts like that? Bet he's planning to buy his way through Trial Valley too. No skill whatsoever."
"Ugh, so annoying..."
Marian nodded along but clamped her mouth shut.
Money was fluttering down from the sky.
"It's Lord Inschtain's blessing! Blessing...!"
"Woooow!"
Before I knew it, Marian was scrambling for coins with the crowd.
"Welcome...!"
"Hottest guy ever!"
"You're gonna win!"
Marian and the townsfolk cheered like bards welcoming Inschtain's procession.
"Ahahaha! A land that knows how to greet people! I'm loving it! Take more!"
Inschtain, basking in the adoration from his horse, tossed out even more cash.
He walked a path fit for a red carpet and lightly touched the stele with a fingertip.
"Woooow!"
Marian pumped her fists like a fanatic.
Cult leader vibes.
No, maybe Inschtain should smile like that.
He won't get chances to spend money in the future.
And it's not just him. Andrew's the same. I'd never heard of either after today.
Because they died.
Beyond them... countless other talents passed through the central plaza.
All to enter Trial Valley.
Passing through proved your strength and earned you honor.
People stake their lives on reputation, after all.
I'd seen everyone worth seeing, but I didn't budge.
"Young master? How long are we staying here?"
Nellin asked, sucking on candy.
Marian was knitting to kill time, nearly done with a scarf.
But there was one person I had to see.
That's why we'd camped out here.
He definitely entered Trial Valley. No doubt.
Someone like him wouldn't miss it.
Where is he?
I wanted to watch longer, but Marian and Nellin were nodding off, eyelids drooping like the clock tower's second hand.
"Alright, let's go."
"Really?"
They shot up, afraid I'd change my mind.
That bored, huh?
No, Nellin—you can't complain after I bought all that food.
As we turned to head home, something caught my eye.
"...?"
A figure in a red robe brushed past us.
Lilac scent?
A whiff in that brief moment. And trailing him... a few men snickering.
Petty thieves, obvious as day.
The red robe and a glimpse of a necklace screamed runaway rich kid.
Anyone could see it.
Should I help...?
I might've ignored it if I hadn't noticed, but pretending not to see felt wrong.
I didn't like trash like that roaming our territory either.
"You two wait here."
"Where are you going?"
"Just a bit. Won't be long."
I left Marian and Nellin and slipped into the alley where they'd vanished.
Can't let them see an ugly scene.
Tracking them was easy. Their scheming voices carried from afar.
"Just hand it over nice and quiet. Makes it easier for everyone, yeah?"
"Right? Super easy. Cough it up and go. Rich kids like you got plenty anyway."
Real bold about it.
I was about to step in... but curiosity about the robed figure held me back. I watched from the shadows.
The red robe glanced at the thieves once.
"Scram."
Firm rejection. The thieves snickered and drew daggers, waving them.
"Jeez. Kid, you reading the room?"
People flinch at weapons instinctively.
Those who don't fall into two categories.
Confident in their skills, or for whom weapons are everyday.
Unfortunately for the thieves, they'd picked wrong.
The red robe was the former.
Whoosh...!
"Aaaagh...!"
The thief threatening the robe clutched his wrist.
A dagger embedded in his hand—unbelievable, judging by his endless screams. Quite the sight.
"Where next? Tongue? Eyeball? Say the word."
A venomous tone unfit for that thin, girlish voice.
I wouldn't rush in based on voice alone...
But thieves?
"You little...!"
The thieves flipped out and charged the red robe.
"Die!"
But the robe slipped aside effortlessly, then drove a palm into the left guy's chest.
"Gack...!"
Ouch.
I'd have gone for the nape for a merciful trip to the afterlife.
Ruthless.
The robe followed up with a kick to the right guy's face.
Crash!
"Urgh..."
Clean finish.
No wasted moves. A bit flashy, maybe?
The hood slipped, revealing the face just a tad... hm?
Found you.
This was the person I'd wanted to see at the embroidery gathering—the red robe.
The robe glanced around, wary of witnesses, and pulled the hood back down.
Tsk, sorry. Already saw.
The face was a bit different from memory, but no doubt.
Plus that House Pador crest on the hand.
Impossible to miss.
"Thank your luck I didn't kill you trash."
The red robe lectured the thieves and left.
Show's over. Time to go?
Why follow? No need.
I'd noted the appearance. Investigation done.
I only needed to know how this person hid their identity in Trial Valley.
Nothing else mattered.
I knew them too well.
Who in this land doesn't know the face hidden under that red robe?
Finding someone who doesn't might be harder.
Once I spotted the red robe, I headed straight home without lingering.
Alright, stage set. Time to sort my thoughts.
Like at the embroidery gathering, I started embroidering.
Call it a quirk, but it helps me organize.
Lately, it'd been proving useful.
Each stitch pulled past info together in my mind.
Red robe. Trial Valley. Evil Society.
Separate threads connected, crossing a line into a full picture.
"Perfect."
Nailed it.
So that's how they used Trial Valley?
Cunning bastards.
As I wrapped up my thoughts...
Bang!
"Y-Young master!"
Butler Bator came sprinting in, pale as a ghost.
Barging in without notice? Not like him.
"S-Stop the embroidery right now. Immediately...!"
"What's wrong?"
"I-It’s..."
That's when I noticed. The maids in the room were all bowing unusually low.
"What do we do..."
"Quiet... shh..."
Marian and Nellin clamped their mouths and bowed. Everyone else too.
Now I got why Bator was freaking out.
Someone of high status and rank had arrived.
Never expected to see them like this...
Fitting entrance, though.
The man stepped from the shadows, revealing his face.
Chiseled features like carved rock, thick dark brows.
An aura of unwavering resolve, like he'd walk one straight path forever. He regarded me coolly.
A strange feeling hit me seeing him.
His looks?
No.
Overpowered by his presence?
Even less.
My unannounced guest.
Ras Pador.
House Pador's youngest knight captain. My eldest brother.
He approached with a cold gaze.
"Heard you were entering Trial Valley before your mission, so I stopped by. And here you are... doing embroidery."
Some greeting.