Chapter 71
Chapter 71
The flow of Force wasn't leading toward the armor section I'd been searching through earlier but to a miscellaneous storage area.
As Logan followed the Force and examined the items closely, what had drawn him was an unremarkable pair of gray metal boots made of an unknown material.
"This...?"
They didn't even feel like an artifact—there was no trace of magical energy.
But the moment he picked them up, a faint vibration tingled at his fingertips, and Logan felt something peculiar.
'...It feels like something's sealed inside?'
The boots were absorbing the Force he'd subtly released—so subtly that only someone with his heightened senses could detect it.
Perhaps...
'Jackpot.'
Fueled by vague anticipation, Logan immediately channeled Force into them. And as if waiting for it, the boots began drinking it in.
Hummm.
At first, his excitement grew as the Force poured in like a waterfall. But when the absorption showed no signs of stopping—only growing fiercer—his expression stiffened.
'What the—?!'
He tried frantically to halt the outflow, but the current the boots created was too violent. Forcing it might cause internal injuries.
What he thought was a jackpot now felt like a trap—or worse, a disaster.
"Tch!"
Deciding to go all-in, Logan poured his maximum Force into the boots—enough to shatter them if necessary.
And just as his face turned pale from exhaustion—
Crack.
A sound like something breaking echoed in his mind, and the boots began regurgitating all the Force they had absorbed.
It felt like gulping down life-saving water at the brink of collapse.
Feeling his strength return, Logan stared at the boots in his hand with utter disbelief.
"What the hell...?"
Though he felt toyed with, the simmering irritation melted away as he sensed the immense power hidden within the boots.
There was no need to hesitate.
Logan immediately tried them on.
'A bit big?'
The moment he thought that—
Hum.
The boots absorbed his Force and instantly shrank to fit his feet perfectly.
"Hah..."
Despite clearly being made of heavy metal, they weighed nothing.
And in that instant, Logan intuitively understood their abilities:
It was as if the Force that had returned whispered these functions into his mind—likely some unknown magic.
Meaning...
'At least a Class 4 artifact.'
A treasure surpassing anything else left in this place.
"Hah... This is a jackp—"
Just as he was about to cheer—
"Ten minutes remaining."
A knight's warning echoed from outside the passage.
Suppressing his laughter, Logan hurriedly exited the vault.
"Those... boots?"
"Yes."
"Hmm. Estimated rating: below Class 1...? Huh? Are you sure you're satisfied with these?"
The knight stared at him as if he were the biggest fool in the world, but—
"Please convey my deepest gratitude to the Count."
Logan smiled sincerely.
"Just a pair of rigid metal boots... At least that brat knows his limits."
Upon receiving the knight's report, Roger Vifros smirked faintly.
A subordinate cautiously asked,
"Should we cancel the plan, then?"
"No. Even so, he must pay for mocking me."
The smirk turned icy, directed at someone not present.
No matter how much Logan pretended to reconcile, mercy wasn't in Roger Vifros' vocabulary.
'Cunning bastard...'
The Sword Duke—who had never attended before—gave a speech at his birthday banquet.
And of all people, his disciple was there.
No matter how he looked at it, Roger felt like he'd been played.
"Ah, but he's leaving immediately. Should we also—"
"What? Heh, so he really intended to humiliate me. That little..."
A three-day banquet, and the one who embarrassed him on the first day was already leaving after grabbing artifacts?
Before worrying about rumors, the sheer insult was unbearable.
"Make sure he gets the message. Don't kill him—just cripple him discreetly. And retrieve his sword and artifacts."
"...Understood."
"Who's talking about me?"
Logan muttered as his ear suddenly tingled.
Half a day had passed since leaving Vifros, riding like mad.
By tomorrow, he'd cross into what was now MacLaine territory—formerly Silvan's domain.
'Even if there are pursuers, they won't chase me this far.'
No one would expect a formally sent-off guest to flee like his life depended on it.
So Logan, lying on leaves by a small campfire, leisurely examined his new boots.
'What exactly are these?'
How had such an item been buried there?
Why hadn't Roger Vifros realized their secret?
The unanswered questions piled up, but no matter how hard he stared, the boots wouldn't speak.
"Seriously..."
Size adjustment, enhanced agility, aerial jumps, climbing—
Even if these were just four first-circle spells embedded into an artifact, they'd still qualify as Class 3.
But considering their additional effects, they were easily one—or even two—grades above that.
"Heh. Either way, jackpot."
It felt like luck had rolled right into his lap.
Almost too good—so much so that it felt suspicious.
'No, no. Good is good.'
Deciding to practice using them, Logan stopped his fruitless theorizing and put the boots back on.
Whoosh!
In an instant, his body leaped, changing direction mid-air three times. His lighter form darted through the forest like a gust of wind.
"Wahahaha!"
The boots didn't just add fixed power—they amplified his speed by 30%, making him feel like he'd ascended to a new realm.
Excited, Logan drew Lux and slashed at the air.
Swoosh!
Thus began his moonlit training.
The golden swordplay continued endlessly, only stopping hours later when Logan felt he'd adapted to the boots' capabilities.
"Good. Very good!"
To obtain such a treasure right after Lux—
It felt like fortune was favoring him.
'Your name is now Boots of the Wind God.'
With that satisfied thought, Logan sat down and entered meditation.
Having achieved more than he hoped, his mind easily focused.
The calmness rapidly restored his fatigued body, and his consciousness expanded and contracted, sinking inward.
Meditation in place of sleep—
Now, it felt no different from true rest.
But that peace didn't last long.
'Killing intent?!'
A chilling sensation jolted Logan awake, and he instinctively sprang up, staring westward.
'No way—pursuers, here?'
He drew his sword as silently as possible.
Fortunately, Lux's silver blade didn't gleam under the dark night sky.
His body, not fully recovered, felt slightly sluggish, but thankfully, the enemy wasn't cautious.
"Sharp senses."
A deliberately distorted voice made Logan frown.
Four masked figures emerged from the western thicket.
Their attire—pitch-black leather armor and tightly wrapped masks—resembled that of covert mercenaries.
"Isn't that stuffy? Must've been tough getting here from Vifros."
Logan tested them with a casual jab, but they didn't react.
"Don't kill him."
The moment the rear masked figure spoke, one of the front ones lunged at Logan.
"Annoying, going this far..."
A voice laced with subdued anger.
The leader had disguised his voice, but his subordinate didn't bother.
It sounded familiar, but Logan had no time to ponder.
The black longsword thrusting toward him was common in bustling cities—but the vicious aura behind it was anything but ordinary.
'High Knight! So they are pursuers.'
Frowning at the opponent's palpable pressure, Logan swung his sword.
Boom!
"Wha—?!"
With a deafening clash, the enemy's blade flew away, embedding itself in the ground.
Logan pursued the staggering masked figure without hesitation and slashed.
'Chasing me this far? Kill while you can.'
If the first attacker was a High Knight, the others were at least as strong.
He had to thin their numbers before they overwhelmed him.
But—
Slash!
"Ugh!"
His decisive strike missed—the knight had rolled back just as Lux came down.
As Logan grimaced at the whiff—
"...Take him down together!"
Recognizing the unusual situation, the leader barked orders, and the remaining two masked figures charged simultaneously.
At that moment, a gust of wind swirled around Logan.
Clang! Clang!
Boom!
Deafening explosions shattered the quiet night.
Logan deflected the two High Knights' attacks in succession, then calmly blocked the first assailant's follow-up.
Against three High Knights, he should've struggled—yet now, he fought evenly.
Partly because they were holding back, but mostly due to his drastically improved movements.
'These boots are incredible.'
Even in danger, Logan couldn't help but marvel.
His senses were 30% sharper, his movements 30% swifter.
That alone boosted his combat power by at least 1.5 times.
His already peerless physical abilities now transcended levels.
His enemies noticed.
"Permission to use lethal force!"
"We can't handle him like this!"
Their urgent voices pierced the silent forest.
The leader, who had been observing, gritted his teeth at his subordinates' struggle and finally moved.
"Pathetic..."
The masked figure, who had been lurking, vanished—only to reappear behind Logan in the chaotic battlefield.
Then, swinging an ordinary-looking greatsword—one radiating a near-two-meter-long silver Force Blade—he cleaved horizontally at Logan's back.
Kwaaaang!
"Ghk!"
Instinctively blocking the strike, Logan was sent skidding back.
Seizing the opening, the three knights attacked.
But—
Swish!
Slash!
"What the—?!"
"This bastard—?!"
"Hup!"
Logan kicked off the air, changing direction mid-leap, and their blades stabbed only empty space.
"Hmph!"
Shaking off the impact, Logan smirked at the leader who had attacked from behind.
"So the 'Moonlight Knight' earned his title through cheap ambushes, huh, Sir Flanz?"
'Damn it—a Top-Tier High Knight doing dirty work himself?'
At Logan's taunt, the silver Force Blade—glimmering under the moonlight—quivered faintly.