Chapter 231
Chapter 231
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 231
Chapter Title: The Pinnacle of the Demonic Style (1)
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Consciousness began to settle into his hazy mind.
Along with it, his awareness flickered hazily to life.
Yet his body still wasn't quite ready to awaken—his eyelids felt as heavy as a thousand tons.
Yuri, however, didn't rush to move. Instead, he leisurely savored the moment.
‘Feels… not bad.’
No, honestly, it felt good.
The scene right before he passed out replayed in his mind, and each time it did, a ticklish thrill stirred in his chest.
His heart pounded vigorously.
‘Nailed it… over halfway!’
It felt like just yesterday he'd managed fifteen steps at the start, but in this attempt, he'd walked a full fifty-one steps.
And purely through his own power, no less.
That meant he'd closed half the distance to the Sword Lord.
‘Even if that's just the benchmark the Sword Lord set over forty years ago…’
Hadn't Johan said something similar before?
The current hundred-step interval was the Sword Lord's from forty years ago.
He was matching the level from when he first started the Hundred Steps Ritual.
So the Sword Lord from forty years ago and the one now were worlds apart, no doubt.
Even fully aware of that, Yuri couldn't help but feel pure joy.
‘Whatever the case… I've grown, that's a fact.’
In one year, he'd reached over halfway to the Sword Lord's mark from forty years ago. Another year to cover the rest, then start anew toward the current Sword Lord.
Yuri was confident.
So for now, couldn't he just bask in the achievement he'd earned on his own?
‘Yeah, gotta have these wins sometimes to keep the motivation burning!’
A profound sense of accomplishment filled Yuri's heart.
The heat blooming from it soon spread through his body, rousing his long-dormant flesh.
Srrk—.
His eyelids slowly lifted.
‘Where…?’
His blurry vision caught a familiar ceiling.
It was his own quarters.
‘Who carried me here?’
He recalled waking up in the infirmary after blacking out during his first Hundred Steps Ritual.
But now, opening his eyes in his own nest?
Just having a place to return to filled him with a sense of stability.
As he gazed at the ceiling with a faint smile,
“Awake?”
A broad face thrust into his sharpening view.
Yuri's expression crumpled at the huge, unkempt mug.
“Damn, I was feeling good, and the first thing I see is your ugly old mug.”
Normally, Johan would've swung a fist at such insolence.
But after waiting so long for Yuri to wake, he had a mountain of questions and fired them off instead.
“You—Sword Lord's kid?”
“…What bullshit? You asking if I'm the Sword Lord?”
“No, if you're the Sword Lord's bastard. Like those Gunter or Kunter bastards.”
“……?”
Yuri blinked at the incomprehensible nonsense.
“Damn, you still half-asleep? Why can't you get it through your thick skull!”
“Gotta say something that makes sense first. What, you babbling about toe-sucking? How am I supposed to get that?”
Smack!
“Ow!”
Yuri finally took a hit.
Clutching his forehead, he shot up and glared at Johan.
“Ow, why'd you hit me!”
“To wake you up.”
“I'm already awake, you damn geezer!”
“Then answer. You… Sword Lord's blood? Rider lineage?”
Yuri scowled at Johan's suddenly serious tone.
“What the hell kinda crap have you been spouting? Me, Sword Lord's blood?”
Johan's eyes narrowed as he stared at Yuri's baffled retort.
‘Looking at him, doesn't seem like it…’
The Rider family.
The absolute house that rose to power after the Sword Lord's emergence toppled the old Enlight Empire's royal line, enjoying unprecedented prosperity in continental history.
Their bloodline's physical traits were blond hair and black eyes—without a single exception.
Yuri, by contrast: black hair, golden eyes.
The exact opposite of Rider features.
‘Still, black and gold are the colors… maybe related?’
Johan reached a conclusion.
“Got it!”
“What?”
“You… a Rider family mutant!”
“I got it too!”
“What?”
“This geezer's finally lost it!”
No, he'd lost it ages ago, but lately it was worsening.
Yuri eyed Johan with that thought.
Johan, convinced his theory held water, crossed his arms and nodded.
“Yep! That insane talent of yours… and that infuriating personality! No wonder you piss me off every time! Yeah, all the mysteries fall into place!”
“…….”
“Mutant from that damn Rider family! Think back! No childhood memories? Like from when you were a baby?”
“…As if I'd remember that crap.”
“Can't even do that? Tch, useless.”
“You senile old bastard…”
Yuri's fists trembled.
Finally, he couldn't hold back and bellowed.
“Keep spouting that rotten dog-food stink, and get out!”
Johan picked at his ear through Yuri's thunderous shout.
“Damn, why yell? Think seriously. No childhood memories? Parents' faces or something?”
“How the hell should I know? Old hag picked me up, umbilical cord still attached, and raised me.”
“Old hag?”
“Yeah, cranky bitch. Just like you, geezer.”
“Hmm… Nothing from her?”
“Nope.”
“Nothing?”
“Yeah.”
“Then whose surname? That old hag's?”
“Nah, I made it myself. Name too.”
“…What?”
“She called me 'hey you,' 'brat,' 'rotten thing,' 'damn kid,' etc. But to introduce myself, needed a name, right? Figured a fancy surname would help… so I made 'em.”
“Huh, made his own name and surname…”
Johan looked at Yuri with a sigh of pity.
‘What kinda childhood did this guy have?’
Yuri's face scrunched at Johan's gaze.
“What's with that look, like pitying some slum orphan?”
“…….”
“I'm not that pitiful. Lived pretty well, actually?”
“…How well?”
“Like anyone else?”
“So how?”
Yuri smoothed his frown at Johan's persistent questions.
He let out a small sigh and recounted his life story.
All too matter-of-factly.
“Well… didn't live great, but I tried hard.”
It started with being abandoned in a downpour.
The old hag who found him was cranky but fed him at least one meal a day.
That didn't last; at five, she kicked him out: “Sleep here, but earn your own keep.”
First time scavenging, but kind villagers let him eat every other day.
Trading hand-gathered firewood for bread introduced him to bartering's wonders.
Shocked seeing one small silver coin buy dozens of loaves after he'd slaved for one.
At seven, bloodshed hit his village; he summoned an incarnation and swept the invaders.
After revenge, he wandered till meeting Johan.
For the first time since meeting Johan, Yuri roughly spilled his past.
A tale he'd never have shared before.
Then Yuri's face lit with realization.
“Ah! Come to think, that was probably my first encounter with money! The greatness of coin! That thrill, the world opening up… can't forget that rush!”
Johan pitied him more watching Yuri chatter excitedly.
“…Kid.”
“What.”
“I'll… go easy on the beatings from now on.”
Not just pitiful.
This kid was more tragic than he'd thought.
Johan now knew why Yuri was so ill-mannered.
‘Just an uneducated brat.’
Raised in that environment, it made sense he'd turn out so hopeless.
No, he had no choice.
Abandoned as a bloody newborn without even a name.
He'd forged his own name and surname, crafting his existence.
Thrown alone into a world too harsh for a fragile child.
To survive, he must've harbored vicious spite.
‘That spite kept him alive.’
Johan finally understood Yuri better.
Stroking his chin, he eyed him.
“Hmm… so really not Rider blood, huh.”
Yuri's tale of being abandoned as a newborn.
That alone ruled out Rider lineage.
Even if a mutant with reversed eye and hair colors, even a bastard—Rider blood was strictly managed by the family.
No Rider-born would ever leave or be discarded.
Yuri shot an annoyed glare at Johan's mutter.
“I said no like a million times!”
Johan turned grave.
“Then how the hell did you pull that off?”
“What?”
“That ultimate technique mimicking Black Blood.”
Yuri instantly got why Johan had grilled him.
He chuckled dismissively.
“You mean Mad Blood?”
* * *
Yoram's southern lands.
The Sword Lord's residence.
A figure in rider garb appeared in the sanctuary even low-rank Black Sword soldiers couldn't approach.
Not an ordinary rider, of course.
It was the Sword Lord's kin, Gunter Rider.
Creak—clack.
Leaving the closed doors behind, Gunter walked silently.
Thud—.
He announced himself by kneeling in the room's center.
Directly ahead.
On what seemed a bed or sofa, the Sword Lord lounged with chin propped.
“…….”
The Sword Lord's languid gaze.
As if asking his purpose, Gunter replied with a stiff face.
“Sword Lord… no, Father.”
The Sword Lord showed faint interest at the title from his youngest son, unheard since age eight.
“At eighteen… when I became an adult, you promised a modest gift.”
“…….”
“I want… that gift now.”
The Sword Lord's interest waned at Gunter's words.
Visiting after so long just to ask for a gift?
“Speak.”
At the Sword Lord's dry voice, Gunter clenched his fists tight.
“Grant me, too…”
Staring straight at the Sword Lord, he said,
“The right to participate in future Hundred Steps Rituals!”
A voice not loud, but laced with desperation.
The Sword Lord's face flickered as he read the burning rage and desire within.