The Margrave's Hidden Treasure
Gripping a sword forged by pouring inner energy into his mechanical gauntlet, Kaisent sliced through the snagging undergrowth and the tree roots jutting from the earth until he had cleared a small open space.
"Hooo—"
Drawing a deep breath, Kaisent tightened his lower abdomen and swung the blade toward an imaginary foe.
Having trained in Kenneth's swordsmanship, Kaisent's physical abilities had grown sharper than before; he thrust and cut with such speed that afterimages trailed behind every motion.
Hmm… I've thought this for a while, but this sword style… has more openings than it should.
Kenneth's swordsmanship mixed thrusts and cuts to dazzle the eye while striking at openings. The trouble was that the "dazzling" part felt haphazard.
Take the Linked Claw Technique he had learned from Dang Seol-yeong: it feinted at vital points with killing intent, forcing the opponent to guard those points and creating openings to exploit. At a glance Kenneth's style and the Linked Claw seemed to share the same principle, yet the Linked Claw contained subtle principles that left the enemy no choice but to defend their vitals, while Kenneth's simply threatened multiple vitals at random.
Against novices Kenneth's method was superior; against true experts the Linked Claw was far more likely to succeed. In short, if the opponent refused to be dazzled and simply centered themselves for a counter, the style backfired.
That was exactly why Lillian, even while swinging a heavy greatsword, had unilaterally driven Kenneth back—before he had taken the medicine.
It was a practical style built by grafting personal principles onto basic swordsmanship, yet because those principles went only as deep as one man's talent and knowledge, the whole thing remained shallow.
Famous martial arts might look formulaic, but across countless years they had been refined by countless hands until their depth became unfathomable. They only seemed rigid and outdated because they had been simplified so that many could learn them.
I need to change the sword style.
Kaisent's talent overflowed, yet it was no exaggeration to say he possessed almost no theoretical knowledge of swordsmanship. Had he learned martial arts from his father—or even heard the theory—he could have elevated the style into something formidable in an instant. Unfortunately, every scrap of martial knowledge he owned had been gathered in this world alone.
For now, eliminate the openings.
Recognizing the flaw himself, he decided to concentrate on minimizing every gap. Kaisent boldly abandoned the motions that created openings while threatening an opponent and reshaped the style into one specialized purely in thrusting and cutting. Strictly speaking he had merely reduced the number of feints, nothing more.
If I do this, the right side is open. But it's better to leave that part alone.
He deliberately left himself vulnerable to attacks coming at his right upper body. Creating a flawless, perfect sword style was impossible even for those who practiced a lifetime. Therefore he boldly offered his right side as an opening so that every other part could reach higher completeness.
"Why are you widening the opening on your right?"
"!!"
In the middle of performing and refining the form, Kaisent felt a chill race down his spine at the rough male voice that spoke from directly behind him. Someone had closed the distance without him sensing a thing.
"Kuk!"
In a flash he circulated energy, conjured black mist beneath his feet, and sprang forward. The figure behind him reached for his nape, yet—
Clang!
"Oh?"
—the core function of the gauntlet, the energy wall, blocked the hand. The stranger had already sensed an unusual power and known this was no ordinary swordsman, yet he had never expected the boy to escape cleanly.
Inside the mist the figure watched Kaisent's retreating back with intrigued eyes as the boy fled deeper into the forest.
Who is that? When did they get behind me? No—first get out of here!
Leaving no footprints, Kaisent kicked from trunk to trunk, launching himself at high speed. When he judged the distance sufficient he climbed into the branches, slowed his breathing, and erased every trace of presence.
Clank—clatter—
Moments later the heavy sound of massive armor moving rose from below. Holding his breath completely, Kaisent looked down. His first impression was simple:
Huge…!
One hundred ninety? No—exactly one hundred ninety-eight centimeters of towering height. A full-face helm and armor that made the already powerful frame look even larger. Everything about the figure radiated size and strength.
Even wearing that armor, I never sensed them right behind me.
The armor noise now was deliberate, without question.
No killing intent… but if anyone learns I was in this forest, it's over.
Remembering the warning of the knight who had brought the contract, Kaisent knew he had to escape and play ignorant no matter what.
Huh? Where did they go?
In the brief moment his attention wandered, the giant armored knight vanished. With that bulk and that armor they should have been impossible to miss—yet nothing remained.
"You're quite skilled."
"Hyaaak!"
Again the voice came from behind. Kaisent screamed and tried to flee on pure instinct, but the knight did not make the same mistake twice.
"Kek!"
As he leapt from the branch his nape was seized; the impact wrenched a cough from his throat.
"Oh dear. Are you all right?"
"Cough! Cough! S-sorry… cough!"
"No need to apologize. I merely wish to talk."
Still holding Kaisent by the nape, the knight landed lightly and released him.
"Th-cough! Ahem! You're not going to punish me…?"
"Punish? Me? Why?"
"W-well… this forest is used as the exclusive hunting ground of the Margrave's army…"
"Exclusive hunting ground? This forest?"
The knight tilted their head as though hearing the claim for the first time, then made a soft sound of realization.
"Don't worry. I will not tell anyone you came here."
"Thank you!"
"In return, let us converse a little."
"About what…?"
"I watched you practice. At first it was a typical practical style that dazzles the eye before striking, yet gradually it became stable and swift. From the look of it you learned that swordsmanship from someone else. Am I correct?"
"Yes…"
Kaisent nodded.
"Yet while refining it you did not merely leave the right-side opening—you deliberately widened it yourself. Why?"
No malice colored the voice. Still, could anyone remain so calm after seeing the treasures he carried?
I can't escape. Both times they took my back without me noticing until they spoke. Overwhelmingly stronger than me.
After a brief hesitation Kaisent raised his shield and demonstrated the reason.
"If an attack comes from the right, I planned to catch it with this and counter."
"Oh? Fascinating. A magic item? No—I sense no magical power at all. Had I not known, even I would have been caught."
The knight curiously tapped the energy shield converted from pure inner energy. Fortunately the interest seemed pure curiosity; even after seeing the artifact the knight showed no greed, only quiet satisfaction at having the question answered.
"You showed me something fine. I should repay the favor."
Looking at the young, uncertain boy, the knight considered what reward would serve best.
"From the look of things you have no sparring partner. That is why you came all the way into this forest."
"…Yes."
His fellow mercenaries still thought of him as merely a mage skilled with a bow; none knew he practiced the sword. On Dang Seol-yeong's advice he hid his talent with desperate care.
"Training alone and training against a living opponent are worlds apart. I shall serve as your sparring partner. I will only defend and offer the barest counters, so set your mind at ease."
Kaisent's first reaction was suspicion. Every knight he had met while traveling with Lillian had been arrogant, loud, and free with insults about "savages" and "ignorant brutes." The single kind knight had been Kenneth—and even that kindness had proven an act, deepening his prejudice.
And now one of "those" knights offered help?
"I am merely moved that one so young works this hard alone. There is no other intent, so do not worry."
An aura that soothed the heart rode the voice. A master capable of calming another's emotions with tone alone. Sensitive to energy, Kaisent could not fully relax, yet he could not imagine a righteous expert of that caliber playing tricks on him. He decided to trust once.
"To reach a new realm one must pour out every ounce of strength. Attack me with every technique you possess. Should you succeed in landing a blow, I will grant a reward as well."
"Yes!"
"But the gap between us is vast, so I will accept a penalty. I shall not step outside this circle. Force me out and the reward is yours just the same."
Agreeing that full power was required for true progress, Kaisent first blanketed the ground in thick black mist.
I can't see a thing. But it is only an optical trick.
The knight closed their eyes and focused energy sense, reading every movement. Kaisent charged as if to strike head-on, erected an energy wall, kicked off it, stepped onto a tree trunk, and swung from behind.
Fast. Fast enough that ordinary knights would answer a beat late.
Still composed, the knight raised a gauntlet to deflect.
Swoosh—!
"!?"
An arrow streaked from the front, aimed at the torso. While launching himself Kaisent had loosed one shaft with Soul-Chasing Flying Blade.
Clang!
Magic? No—martial arts.
Recognizing a technique from the otherworldly people of the Murim, the knight simultaneously knocked aside blade and arrow with both hands.
Crrrack!
Just as a light counter began, massive roots erupted, snaring the knight's legs and coiling upward like serpents.
"Khaaat!"
With a shout the knight tore free by sheer force, yet Kaisent dove into the opening, aiming low for the abdomen. The small frame forced the knight to raise a knee; Kaisent, having learned from Kenneth how to break such counters, dismissed his sword, slapped the knee aside with a palm, used it as a pivot, and flowed sideways to deliver Back Mountain Palm.
Boom!
"Uwaak!"
The wind pressure from a single heavy stomp hurled Kaisent through the air.
Just wind pressure… This knight is far stronger than Kenneth… stronger than Lillian…!
Kaisent marveled. The knight marveled equally.
Magic and martial arts used with equal fluency. Who is this? Was there a fallen noble house with talent like this?
The boy's skin was too clean, his bearing too refined for a commoner; the knight took him for the scion of a ruined house. A child who did not even look adult, striving so earnestly to grow stronger—admirable enough that a little help seemed warranted. Never had the knight expected such strength.
Not crammed learning. The combinations flowed as if body and technique were one.
How do I attack next? Roots again? No—he tore free roots even Lillian could not break, and did it casually.
Raised properly, he would make an excellent match for my daughters.
Push with raw power? No—he flung me with nothing but the wind of a stomp. Ordinary strength will not even budge him.
Against such overwhelming skill Kaisent nearly lost heart. Then Dang Seol-yeong's face and the face of "that man" rose in his mind, and the fire rekindled.
A chance to spar with someone this strong may never come again. I'm not going to die! I have to become stronger!
"Haaaah!"
He snatched a handful of arrows from the quiver and hurled them, then guided two with Soul-Chasing Flying Blade for a true surprise. Before the ambush could even begin, a barrage of punches that left afterimages shattered every shaft.
Feeling the gulf between himself and a true master, Kaisent began employing every desperate method he would never normally consider. The spar itself became a great opportunity: he experienced with his entire body the realm he must one day reach, and by forcing every technique into new combinations his proficiency soared.
"Haak! Hak! Huk! Hhaaa!"
Several hours later Kaisent leaned against a tree trunk, utterly spent, dragging in ragged breaths. For the first time he had poured out every drop of stamina until nothing remained, and a strange sense of release filled him.
I never landed a single successful hit, yet I'm satisfied.
Above all, even though the knight had used only the barest defense and counters, he had witnessed a master's true skill. Continuous use of martial arts and magic had also raised his proficiency; he felt he could now wield them with greater power and efficiency than before.
"…You possess considerable talent."
The knight praised him and stepped outside the circle.
"It is time I returned. I shall take my leave."
"Haa… hoo… th-thank you."
"See you tomorrow."
"Huh?"
"Farewell."
"Wai—"
Kaisent tried to ask what "tomorrow" meant, but the knight kicked off the earth and vanished into the distance in a single bound.
While Kaisent stood dumbfounded, the knight left the forest and walked toward the Margrave's encampment.
"Who—o-oh, you've arrived…!"
"Quiet. You know I detest noise."
"S-s-s…!"
"Good work."
The gatekeeper reacted as though the light rebuke might choke him. Strangely, the voice that had spoken to Kaisent had been a rough male baritone; the voice that addressed the gatekeeper was a powerful woman's.
Inside the camp every soldier, knight, and mage bowed without exception. Several knights fell in behind as the figure entered the largest and most splendid tent. There the full-face helm was removed.
Rustle—
Cold silver-white hair spilled down like silk, revealing a beauty whose golden eyes held noble fire. Those eyes, charged with fierce strength, carried a dignity that forced every head to lower. The towering height of one hundred ninety-eight centimeters looked down even on the sturdiest male knights and magnified that dignity further.
Like a frost-covered ice flower she sought one man first.
"Zigistan."
"Yes, my lord."
"The nearby forest—since when has it been my army's exclusive hunting ground?"
"…I apologize. In seeking a way to keep your meditation undisturbed…"
If word spread that she was present, assassins from other nations might try their luck. While devising a method to keep mercenaries away, the exclusive-hunting-ground decree had seemed perfect; trespassing on a noble's private grounds alone invited severe punishment.
"If we revoke it now—"
"Leave it. The supplies from the First and Second Princes?"
"Both continue to arrive."
"The army."
"They can reach us within three days."
"Mm."
After further reports the knight called Zigistan spoke again.
"Um… Count."
"What is it?"
"You… seem to be in rather good spirits…"
"Heh."
At the question the woman smiled with quiet pleasure.
"I found a treasure no one else knows exists."
"Pardon? There was a treasure in that forest?"
"Yes. A very precious one. If I try to claim it carelessly it will spoil, so I shall win it over slowly."
"??"
The knights exchanged blank looks, unable to grasp her meaning.
One of fewer than a dozen Origin-realm powerhouses on the entire continent. The guardian deity of the Halrot Kingdom who had held back the Saryeong Kingdom that destroyed Luciarkenel.
Margrave Akina Karayden smiled in deep satisfaction at having discovered a wild genius no one else had yet noticed.