Chapter 49
Chapter 49
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 049
Chapter Title: Farewell, Brennenton (2)
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Shwaaa.
A moon halo seemed to form, and then late-night rain began to fall.
While the northern wall with its inner castle exuded a grand scale and strict vigilance, Brennenton's south gate gave off the vibe of a rural outpost.
The soldier huddled by the gate to avoid the rain pulled his cloak tighter.
"Damn it, why does it have to rain on my watch?"
"It's chilly. Block it so the rain doesn't hit over there."
As the pattering rain threatened the campfire, the man who added more wood stood with his back to the gate.
"I'm blocking the rain, and you're leaning on the gate?"
"If soot gets on the gate, the squad leader will throw a fit, right? I'll switch with you in a bit."
"Tch, I won't last long."
At that moment, the surroundings suddenly lit up. And what followed was a deafening roar that seemed to tear the eardrums.
Kraaa-boom.
"Eek!"
"Ow, you scared me. There goes my sleep."
The man leaning on the gate slumped sideways before standing back up.
A little later, with the rain intensifying, footsteps approached.
"Who's there? If you're human, answer."
"Phew, good thing. It was so dark I almost got lost, but I spotted your campfire."
"Third Young Lord?"
The sentry eyed Arun's group emerging through the rainy path.
"We ran into bandits, some of my men got hurt, so we're here for treatment."
"Bandits? Around here?"
"Oh dear, please come in."
Considering Brennenton's ironclad security, the story didn't add up, but Arun's status was his pass. Seeing the wounded, the soldiers let them through without suspicion.
Clop-clop, clop-clop.
Passing the outer castle unimpeded, the group galloped straight toward the inner castle.
"Who goes there? State your unit and name."
Neigh, snort.
As soldiers leveled their spears, the warhorse White Flower reared up and bucked.
"Whoa, whoa. It's me, Ucha. I came back because I have unfinished business with my brother."
"Third Young Lord?"
Arun's calm demeanor soothed the horse. The briefly flustered soldiers regained their composure.
"You can't enter right now."
"You think you can stop me?"
"Please wait just a moment. I'll inform the knight on duty first."
"Impressive. Men like you always die young."
"Pardon?"
Thwack.
Clang, clang, clang, roll.
The sentry's head snapped back, his helmet flying off. The soldier on the opposite side of the gate went down the same way.
Yains checked their pulses by pressing their necks.
"Just knocked out. Aren't we being too merciful for raiders?"
"Better than letting rage consume us. I'll handle the duty knight."
"I hope they appreciate your kindness."
Adjusting their leather gauntlets, the two entered the inner castle.
Benjamin and Schmidt bound the soldiers and followed.
Fortunately, peacetime inner castle security was lax. Even so, infiltration wasn't easy—it was only possible because the intruders' skills were extraordinary and they knew the defensive layout well.
"Who goes—gurk."
Crash, tumble.
The soldier who slammed into the wall passed out on the spot.
"Intruders! Sound the horn—argh."
"Halt! Huh? Third Young Lord. Ugh."
The moment the soldier recognized Arun and hesitated, Yains struck his neck, subduing him.
"How many left? It's tough finishing this without killing."
"Minus the reserves, this should be all the on-duty personnel."
"Well, it's not the royal palace."
Brennenton didn't maintain a massive standing army at all times, so its numbers matched Westguard Fortress at the front lines. It was only the knightly forces led by each heavy hitter and the veteran conscripts in emergencies that overwhelmed.
"From here on, stay quietly behind me."
"You know I'm no good at subtlety."
The two resumed walking, and Benjamin and Schmidt followed, routinely binding the guards.
They made it through the inner castle like that, but the heir's bedroom was another story.
The duty knight guarding the door drew his sword without hesitation.
"I don't know what's going on, but forgive the rudeness."
"You're impressive too."
"...?"
The charging knight's eyes filled with doubt.
Arun twisted his body to dodge the shortest thrust.
Crack.
The brigandine tore, metal shards flying, but Arun ignored it and smashed his mace into the man's thigh.
Clang.
"Grr."
Plate wasn't invincible. The vibration from the impact rocked the thigh, buckling the leg. Arun was decisive, charging to pin him against the wall.
Thud.
"Kuhk."
Bang, bang, bang.
After slamming the helmet into the wall several times, the duty knight lost consciousness.
'Overwhelming speed and power, yet tireless.'
Shaking his head, Yains pulled the door handle.
Screeech.
As the bedroom door opened, a scream greeted him.
An unfamiliar woman pulled the blanket over herself, while naked Lloyd jumped down and grabbed his sword.
Shing.
The sword came out with a beast-like screech.
Lloyd glanced between Arun's sword and his own, then backed away unsteadily.
"Don't retreat like a coward!"
"Eek."
Clatter.
He dropped the sword without regret and raised both hands, continuing to backpedal.
"W-wait. I can explain everything. So Arun, put the sword down first..."
"The solution isn't behind you—it's right here in front of me."
Lloyd's back hit the window as he retreated.
Rattle.
Below the window was a cliff connected to the castle wall. Rain soaked and streamed down his body.
"I was wrong. It was all my fault. So, little brother."
Slash.
"Aaaagh."
A flash of lightning struck. His eyes wide, pupils shrunken, body shivering in the cold rain—then thunder crashed.
Kaboom, kra-boom.
"Hah, hah."
A few strands of severed hair fell instead of his head.
"D-did I survive?"
"Check. See if you're alive. And realize what you've done."
Lloyd touched his neck and sighed in relief.
"This isn't mercy or brotherly love. It's my own foolishness for not cutting ties with the dead weight holding me back."
Rainwater dripped from Arun's blade like blood.
The next morning, the assembled heavyweights were met by the duty knight slumped against the wall, helmet gone and armor dented, and soldiers standing around unsure what to do.
"Centon, what happened? Are you alright?"
"...The Third Young Lord has the First Young Lord confined."
"What?"
"Confined? That's a misunderstanding."
Arun appeared with Lloyd in tow and pointed to the throne.
"Have a seat, brother."
"I haven't been granted permission for that seat yet."
Arun leaned in and whispered in Lloyd's ear with a smile.
"How long will you wait for permission? Whose approval was this last time? Father's? Father-in-law's?"
"Urk."
By then, the others had sorted their confusion and reacted.
"Arun? Lloyd?"
"First Young Lord, what's going on?"
Lloyd spread his arms with a sigh, and Baron Brisel Anto stepped back. In his place stepped forward the famed Brennenton knight, Lumen Ajax.
"I don't know what the Third Young Lord is up to."
Click.
Arun gladly accepted his intent to settle it with force.
'No time to hide my strength.'
Shing.
Descending the steps and drawing his sword established the duel.
Lumen Ajax had served as sword instructor for the family knight order before marrying into a branch family—a man as arbitrary as his swordsmanship.
"Hahaha, Third Young Lord, how much you've—"
He attacked before finishing.
Whoosh.
A feint of sorts, but also arrogant leisure.
Crack.
Arun's longsword met Lumen's shortsword, sparks flying.
Clang, screeech.
Both fine blades, but Lumen yielded to the thickness and weight, retreating. He swiftly swapped for a longsword from his squire and closed in again.
'On par with Zephyros, or one step below.'
But time was short. He had to end it before his stamina and strength were gauged.
"The runaway kid's grown up and come back, eh."
Clang.
Fundamentals solid, no surprise attack worked on him. Against someone who knew every option from a blade's position, only the opponent's 'complacency' was exploitable.
Their swords danced.
Bang, crack.
Sparks flew, clashes echoing like thunder through the hall. Then they locked blades in standoff.
"Huff, huff."
Lumen Ajax's ragged breaths transmitted through the crossed swords.
'Only strength left. End it here.'
"Impressive speed. Hm? Strength's no joke either?"
As faces drew closer, so did the blades' contact point.
Screeech.
"Grr, eeee."
Lumen Ajax gritted his teeth, eyes bloodshot and bulging.
'Now.'
Arun shoved the blade aside and spun. Even as Lumen staggered, his sword aimed true at Arun.
But at close range, elbow beat sword.
Thwack.
Lumen's eyes rolled white from the crown strike.
Then came one-sided beating.
Thwack, thwack, thwack.
Lumen Ajax's head lolled limply. Those who knew his skill were shocked by the unexpected outcome. And that wasn't all.
Thud.
Benjamin dragged someone by the collar into the hall. A trail of blood followed.
"Punishing rudeness is harder than dueling."
Arun released Lumen's collar and dusted his hands.
"Last night, this guy tried to grab me."
"Huff, huff."
Zephyros Forleang knelt pale-faced.
"...!"
"Him?"
Those who knew he was the count family's hidden blade were aghast; those who suspected now confirmed it. The clueless weren't even in the room.
Finally grasping the full picture, the room buzzed.
"No, it's already settled—why drag it out?"
"Pitiful."
"Tch, complicating things."
One man's shame was another's opportunity. Those resentful of Baron Brisel Anto's dominance whispered.
Arun's cold gaze swept them.
'Success so far.'
He barked at his uncles, cousins, and dimly remembered relatives.
"You thought getting exiled by brother was the end? Apparently not. So, who else's permission do I need now? Step up."
Overwhelmed in justification and might, they chose silence.
"No takers? Permission granted, then. That assassin full of confidence never cracked. So I'll drop the interrogation."
Gulps and sighs intermingled.
"I'm stopping here not because I lack courage to kill everyone present. I'm handing the family to you brave souls."
"...".
Arun was arrogant and rude. But having proven his power, no one reproached him.
'No gain in stepping up.'
"That's my mercy toward you. Try grabbing me again. I'm curious what my inner demon looks like too."
Arun turned away decisively.
Schmidt rushed to open the door first, Yains followed. Benjamin glanced at his senior knights last before turning.
But outside the door, lined-up knights awaited the group.
"Steel Knights!"
"Third Young Lord. Long time no see."
Steel Knight Order Captain Samuel Glenberg planted his greatsword and bowed. It felt like a last greeting to a doomed man.
"I've heard all about your exploits. Let's see that skill today."
'I expected this to some degree. Still, I was complacent.'
Arun looked back. He scanned the clustered uncles.
"No choice now."
"Steel Knights, huh. If they fall, Brennenton falls."
Yains scratched his cheek on Arun's right.
"Even you can't handle a full knight order, right?"
"You can handle them, my lord. The issue is we won't last."
Benjamin grumbled, taking position on Arun's left.
"I won't outlive my lord."
"Kid's got spirit."
Yains patted the blocking youth's shoulder and drew his sword.
"No one's paying ransom for prisoners. I'll end it here—don't worry, go."
"Regret not serving longer. Please escape without lingering on us."
Benjamin drew and tossed his scabbard.
Arun drew too.
Shing.
'Escaping's fine, but after is brutal.'
Losing friends, sworn knights, squires—returning home to civil war was grim. If Brennenton tore itself apart, orcs would breed fast and push south.
Humanity would face crisis again, but new heroes might rise for epic tales.
Just without him or Westguard.
'Then rather.'
"Change of plans. Close Schmidt Hall's doors."
"Pardon? Yes, Master."
Arun turned toward the hall, Benjamin and Schmidt toward the doors. Yains scanned for what his friend missed.
"Arun. Hold up. You two, stop."
Arun looked back.