Chapter 7
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Northway (4)
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Blake dismounted and stretched his body, shaking his bloodied fist. Several teeth that had been lodged in his skin clattered to the ground.
“Gasp...!”
The swordsmen hesitated and fell back at the savage display from a man whose massive frame could easily be mistaken for a bear.
“W-What kind of build is that...?”
The Credo Swordsmen Corps were all northerners with sturdy physiques that held up anywhere, but this brute towered a full head above even them. His size was downright monstrous.
Normally, someone that big would look sluggish, but there was no such impression from this guy.
Probably because his limbs were as disproportionately long as his height.
And moreover...
‘Dual-wielding? No, he could swing that even with one hand!’
The swordsmen, well-versed in blades, immediately recognized that the greatsword slung on the brute's back could be wielded single-handedly.
And that realization brought them yet another shock.
Not a one among them felt confident handling a sword like that one-handed with any skill.
“This is getting interesting. I was told there were no suspicious characters around, but out pops this incredibly shady bastard.”
Jude smirked at Blake's appearance.
“Ah, no, that guy...”
As Lindelmann started to explain, one of the swordsmen pointed his blade at Blake and shouted.
“You! What the hell are you?”
“...”
Blake cracked his neck left and right but gave no reply, merely sweeping his indifferent gaze over the Credo Swordsmen Corps.
‘Twelve. All swordsmen. One with real presence. No cover or concealment.’
The number of foes, their armament, and positions all registered in his mind. In an instant, a blueprint formed for neutralizing them most swiftly and effectively in combat.
It was Blake's unique ability, honed across every battlefield from the Northern Great Mountains onward, that had ensured his victories and survival.
“That bastard...”
Blake had only given them a casual once-over, but to the others, it looked utterly arrogant and disdainful.
Naturally, it only fueled the swordsmen's hostility further.
“I asked who the hell you are!”
“Sir Zaroph, are these enemies?”
Ignoring the lead swordsman's words entirely, Blake asked Lindelmann.
“So, about that... Huh?”
Lindelmann, about to explain to Jude, blinked wide-eyed at the unexpected question.
In a low, icy voice, Blake posed the final condition needed to decide his next move, one last time.
“Are these enemies? Can I cut them down?”
A question that bordered on madness, depending on who heard it.
Combined with Blake's prior actions, its effect was immediate.
“Uh, well...”
“What did you say?!”
Whoosh!
Before Lindelmann could respond, the swordsman in front of Blake charged in fury, swinging his blade.
In that instant.
Lindelmann's eyes caught Blake drawing the sword's retaining strap.
He shouted on pure instinct.
“Don't kill him!”
Lindelmann's desperate cry.
Almost simultaneously, a black shadow slipped into the arc of the swordsman's swinging blade.
Bam!
A thud like a drum being struck.
“Gah!”
The swordsman who'd swung at Blake flew backward.
His body folded at the waist midair, limbs rigidly extended in a bizarre pose.
Thud!
He crashed to the ground after soaring nearly five meters past his comrades.
Still with legs straight out and head bowed, just as he'd flown.
The only change: a deep horizontal dent across the thick chest plate that had encased his torso.
And it didn't take long to realize who'd made it.
“...!”
All eyes turned to the culprit.
Blake, with the greatsword sheathed over his solid shoulder, glanced back at Lindelmann and murmured lowly.
“Didn't kill him.”
“...!”
Everyone's jaws dropped.
Headgates was right around the corner, yet this guy had crippled two of the Credo Family's elite swordsmen and his excuse was “Didn't kill him”?
“Not just shady—a total lunatic.”
Shing!
The smile vanished from Jude's face as he drew his longsword.
The Credo Swordsmen Corps bristled with murderous intent, surrounding Blake.
But Blake merely stared back with emotionless eyes.
“I'll kill you, you mad bastard!”
The enraged swordsmen stepped forward.
“W-Wait a second!”
In the hair-trigger tension ready to erupt into bloodshed, Lindelmann jumped in.
“This man isn't shady—he's a discharged soldier from Northernrocks Fortress! He served long in the Imperial Army and was just mustered out! The Northernrocks commander ordered him to escort me all the way to Head—no, Alteria! You know the laws on freed Imperial soldiers, right? Only His Imperial Majesty or an authorized magistrate can judge him! No one can execute summary judgment! Hah!”
He'd finished speaking at the fastest clip of his life and finally exhaled.
“Northernrocks...!”
“A discharged soldier from Northernrocks Fortress?!”
A few Credo swordsmen startled and muttered among themselves.
But Jude only gave Blake a faintly surprised look, showing no major agitation.
He glanced between Blake and Lindelmann, then chuckled and lowered his raised sword.
“Can't argue with that.”
“Sir Hamilton!”
The swordsmen gawked at Jude's unexpected reaction.
Raising a hand to silence them, Jude eyed Lindelmann with a venomous gleam.
“But we can't just let him walk after mangling two of our men, no matter the reason...”
“Bandit extermination. Self-defense.”
“Hm?”
A low growl like a beast's cut him off, and Jude whipped his head around.
Blake, greatsword still slung over his shoulder, repeated flatly.
“Dealt with a bandit pawing my pack without permission. Took down the one who attacked first with murderous intent. That's all.”
“Ha!”
Jude gaped in disbelief.
Too absurd for words.
“You bastard!”
A nearby swordsman lunged to take Jude's place.
Swish!
Jude's blade flashed out, blocking the man's path.
The startled soldier checked Jude's expression, bowed his head, and retreated.
“Hmph.”
Keeping his eyes on Blake, Jude flicked his sword lightly back and forth.
Gleaming with an unsettling light.
Blake didn't twitch, and soon Jude's lips curled faintly.
“What if that guy had charged just now? Self-defense again?”
Blake watched Jude impassively, then nodded once.
“Not a battlefield, so no killing.”
“...!”
“That bastard!”
Jude's brow twitched, and the swordsmen bristled again.
But as at their first encounter, Jude smiled and slowly sheathed his drawn blade.
“I see. A true Northernrocks survivor, huh? Fine. Everyone, stand down.”
His lips smiled, but his eyes twisted viciously as he addressed the swordsmen.
Still displeased, they sheathed their swords, shot Blake sharp glares, and hauled up their fallen comrade.
“Business seems concluded, so we'll take our leave.”
Mounted on his black steed, Jude glanced at the still-tense Lindelmann and tugged the reins.
Only then did relief wash over Lindelmann and the guards' faces.
“Oh, right.”
As Jude rode off, he turned his head slightly. Lindelmann and the guards startled again.
But his gaze fell on Blake.
“What's the name of our Northernrocks discharged soldier?”
“Blake.”
Blake hopped onto the cart's back as he answered.
“Blake, huh... I'll remember that. Let's see if you talk so tough next time we meet.”
Jude eyed Blake with a mix of sneer and malice, then turned his horse.
Moments later, the Credo Swordsmen Corps vanished toward the north gate inside Brownstone Gate.
“Phew!”
“Thought we were dead.”
Only after Jude and his men fully disappeared into Headgates did the guards finally exhale.
Lindelmann tsked at the relieved guards with a sour face.
“Guards, my ass... Tsk tsk!”
“Heh.”
The guards looked sheepish.
“Still, thanks to Sir Zaroph stepping in, it didn't blow up bigger. Real lucky.”
“Ahem! Oh, that? No big deal.”
Puffed up by Guard's praise, Lindelmann shrugged with a grin.
“Yeah, all thanks to the knight.”
“As expected from someone from Alteria. Impressive.”
In the end, it was Lindelmann who'd intervened, so the guards all thumbs-upped him.
“Ahem! Well, you know... Anyway, let's get moving.”
Clearing his throat modestly, Lindelmann's eyes flicked to Blake, then he subtly slowed his horse to fall back beside the cart.
“Hey, Blake.”
“...”
Meeting Blake's chilling gaze brought the earlier scene rushing back, making Lindelmann flinch inwardly, but he forced a calm expression.
“Ahem! Good call listening and not killing. But be more careful from now on. Today worked out because I stepped in personally, but you can't count on that every time, right? For when you're on your own, better work on some patience.”
“One rummaged my pack. One attacked first. Dealing with them has nothing to do with patience.”
Leaning against the cart, Blake replied nonchalantly.
Lindelmann frowned.
“That doesn't mean you go swinging right away! Words first, yeah?”
“Warned the pack-rummager to stop. He ignored it, so no choice. The sword-slinger gave no time for warnings.”
“...”
Lindelmann had no comeback to Blake's logic.
Objectively, Blake had acted justifiably.
“No, but still... Argh, whatever! Tch!”
Frustrated and irritated, Lindelmann whipped his head away.
Watching Lindelmann ride ahead to the cart's front, Blake tilted his head ever so slightly.
“Held back from killing based on the 'don't kill' info. Capital knights are incomprehensible.”
‘Tell me about it!’
That was the guards' unanimous thought upon hearing Blake's murmur.
But it also felt oddly satisfying.
Dealing with big and small noble houses bred plenty of grudges, and Blake had just thrashed the most annoying ones—the Credo Swordsmen Corps—sending two to the dirt.
It cleared the air wonderfully.
And since they'd witnessed it all, no reckless reports to the magistrate.
Otherwise, per Blake, those two Credo men—already guilty of theft and attempted murder—might face punishment too.
“Seems like a decent guy deep down, huh?”
“Yeah.”
Murmuring quietly, the guards moved on.
Passing the massive brown stone pillar, the recent events faded from their minds.
Entering Brownstone Gate meant they'd reached the direct domain of Headgates.
They were finally home.
(To be continued)