Chapter 389: Wild Horse (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 389: Wild Horse (3)
In the middle of the night when everyone should have been asleep, an uninvited guest picked the lock on my door. I had two options: first, ask the intruder why they snuck in and express my anger using words.
"...I hope you came prepared to die."
Second, get angry with my entire body. As a typical barbarian, there was no need to think long about the correct way to treat an uninvited guest.
Squeeze!
I gripped the intruder's neck harder. This was the normal reaction a barbarian would have to an assassin.
"Did the marquess order you to kill me?"
Ch-choke!
In response, the intruder desperately wheezed, "...I-It's not...! Wait, let's talk about this—"
It was obvious what he was going to say—most likely that he didn't come here intending to kill me. I was sure that was true. It wasn't like he had been holding a weapon when I opened my eyes. If he really wanted to kill me, the marquess had plenty of better options than this guy. I couldn't deny that.
"I don't intend to converse with someone who tried to kill me."
But I can't go on a rampage if I admit that, can I? So, get some sleep. I'll go collect compensation for this from your father.
Squeeze!
I tightened my grip, obstructing his airway to the point where there wasn't room for even the slightest of sounds to escape. Then I buried my fist in his abdomen, which was bare of equipment of any kind.
Smack!
His back curled up like a shrimp's from the mild blow. He choked.
Oh, you're not going to pass out after this? Then another one.
Smack!
Choke!
I guess he's holding up well since he's a knight. Do I need to hit him in the jaw?
Just as I was about to change my aim, Eltora sensed that his life was in danger and drew the knife on his waist. "Urgh!" It was about the same size as the dagger I normally used to cut up beef jerky. But the size of a knife in a knight's hand didn't matter.
Whooooom!
Using the dagger as a medium, the knight summoned a blue aura that rapidly extended outward.
Whip!
The aura coated the dagger, which then rushed like lightning toward my wrist. It seemed he decided to cut off my hand whole since he couldn't get me to release him. I could see his logic. Most knights tended to try to cut down anything that got in their way.
[You have cast Iron Fortress.]
[The effect of Evolving Shell has increased by 1.5 times.]
As I quickly activated my skill, his aura touched my wrist.
Kagak!
The aura struggled to slice through my flesh and eventually got caught on the bone. His eyes widened. It wasn't much different from the look on the Blood Knight's face when we battled on the Dark Continent. 'Why on earth isn't it cutting?' These bastards who spent their entire lives using auras had trouble accepting the fact that they could fail. Of course, it wasn't my job to hold his hand.
"Even hiding a weapon?" Blood dripped from my torn flesh but I didn't budge, my grip on his neck still steady. "So you are an assassin."
Eltora attempted to violently shake his head, but he couldn't. He tried but failed because he lacked the Strength stat to turn his neck in my grip. He could only widen his already wide eyes.
Whoom!
The next moment, a large fist broke the bones in his face.
Crack!
Now, shall we go?
Grabbing the marquess's son by the back of his neck, I exited the room. Unfortunately, I soon ran into a problem.
How do I find the marquess?
I didn't know where the marquess was, but I couldn't wake this guy up to ask.
Drip, drip.
Ugh, I want to meet with the marquess before the wound on my wrist heals...
My concerns were short-lived, though. As the saying went, you didn't have to overwork your mind if you had a tough body.
I'm sure I can figure it out once I go outside.
I was currently staying in a separate building located to the east of the main house. I walked down the empty hallway and headed toward the stairs. The servants who had been everywhere when I first entered my room were now nowhere to be seen. This meant the marquess had restricted their access before sending his son my way.
Well, the first floor looks normal.
The first-floor lobby was brightly lit even at this time of night. Even though no one was on watch in here, a maid standing around on standby noticed me and screamed. "Kyaaah!"
What, is this a biometric alarm or something?
"What is that racket?!" The tightly shut front door swung open at the scream and the knights who were on the night shift rushed inside. "Riehen Schuitz...! What is the meaning of this?! Who is that person you're holding?!"
Unfortunately, it seemed they didn't recognize their young master. Maybe I shouldn't have punched him in the face.
"Judging by the threads on his belt, it looks like a member of the Tecerion Family."
"You may be a guest of the marquess, but did you think you would get away with something like this?"
"Release that man and surrender!"
A total of four knights surrounded me, their auras active. It was a situation that would make any ordinary adventurer sweat profusely and quake in their boots. These guys probably knew that better than anyone, which was why they were so confident.
"I will say this for the last time, surrender and await Lord Tecerion's judgment."
"And if I don't want to?"
"...Then we have no choice but to demonstrate our prowess."
"Really? Try it, then."
When I shrugged at their ultimatum, the knights frowned like they thought I was making a foolish decision.
Tap.
I tossed the son on the ground, opened up my sub-space, and hefted Demon Grinder onto my shoulder. Right at that moment, the four knights exchanged looks with each other and attacked me from all sides.
Dash.
Luckily for me, as soon as I stomped on the ground with my foot, a vortex appeared.
Boom.
[You have cast Eye of the Storm.]
I deliberately didn't use it in combination with Transcendence because, against a group, it was much more effective in its usual state.
Whoom!
The next moment, a large fist broke the bones in his face.
Crack!
Now, shall we go?
Grabbing the marquess's son by the back of his neck, I exited the room. Unfortunately, I soon ran into a problem.
How do I find the marquess?
I didn't know where the marquess was, but I couldn't wake this guy up to ask.
Drip, drip.
Ugh, I want to meet with the marquess before the wound on my wrist heals...
My concerns were short-lived, though. As the saying went, you didn't have to overwork your mind if you had a tough body.
I'm sure I can figure it out once I go outside.
I was currently staying in a separate building located to the east of the main house. I walked down the empty hallway and headed toward the stairs. The servants who had been everywhere when I first entered my room were now nowhere to be seen. This meant the marquess had restricted their access before sending his son my way.
Well, the first floor looks normal.
The first-floor lobby was brightly lit even at this time of night. Even though no one was on watch in here, a maid standing around on standby noticed me and screamed. "Kyaaah!"
What, is this a biometric alarm or something?
"What is that racket?!" The tightly shut front door swung open at the scream and the knights who were on the night shift rushed inside. "Riehen Schuitz...! What is the meaning of this?! Who is that person you're holding?!"
Unfortunately, it seemed they didn't recognize their young master. Maybe I shouldn't have punched him in the face.
"Judging by the threads on his belt, it looks like a member of the Tecerion Family."
"You may be a guest of the marquess, but did you think you would get away with something like this?"
"Release that man and surrender!"
A total of four knights surrounded me, their auras active. It was a situation that would make any ordinary adventurer sweat profusely and quake in their boots. These guys probably knew that better than anyone, which was why they were so confident.
"I will say this for the last time, surrender and await Lord Tecerion's judgment."
"And if I don't want to?"
"...Then we have no choice but to demonstrate our prowess."
"Really? Try it, then."
When I shrugged at their ultimatum, the knights frowned like they thought I was making a foolish decision.
Tap.
I tossed the son on the ground, opened up my sub-space, and hefted Demon Grinder onto my shoulder. Right at that moment, the four knights exchanged looks with each other and attacked me from all sides.
Dash.
Luckily for me, as soon as I stomped on the ground with my foot, a vortex appeared.
Boom.
[You have cast Eye of the Storm.]
I deliberately didn't use it in combination with Transcendence because, against a group, it was much more effective in its usual state.
Whiiiiiip!
The knights, who were conveniently within a five-yard radius of me, were swept up by the powerful winds and pulled toward me. Of course, even as they were, the knights swung their swords. After all, a blow from a knight could slice through heavy armor like butter and cut through flesh and bone without resistance.
"Waaaaaah!"
I swung the Demon Grinder again and again, not bothering with defense. This was how barbarians usually dealt damage. Assuming blows were exchanged on a one-to-one basis, I was confident that I'd be the one who came out victorious in the end.
Whiiip.
The knight who charged at me from my front slashed his sword down. I didn't make any effort to block or dodge.
Slice!
This guy applied so much force that the blade got embedded in my collarbone.
Smash!
I retaliated by driving my hammer into his temple. Right at that moment, the knight rushing at me from the left cut my ankle.
Slice!
Jeez, aiming for the Achilles tendon is low.
I almost lost my center of balance for a moment but thankfully my tendon wasn't severely damaged.
Ziiip.
I quickly balanced myself on my other foot and used my injured foot to kick him in the face like a soccer ball.
Kwaaang!
The knight was sent flying and hit one of the mansion's pillars. Just then, I heard a dull thud behind me.
Khak!
So, you didn't slice, you stabbed.
[Any stabbing damage taken will be reduced by 75%.]
No wonder I didn't feel any pain.
"W-Who the hell are you...?"
The better question is, who are you, kid? You have something to say?
Smash!
I turned around and elbowed him in the jaw. Just like that, there was only one guy left standing.
"Ahhh!" As if to avenge his fallen comrades, the knight went to slice through my neck with a ferocious, golden aura.
My neck's a bit vulnerable.
As there was no need for big, energy-intensive moves, I simply raised my left arm and blocked the blow with my shield.
Choke!
Then I kicked him in the stomach.
Shaaaaaa.
At that moment, the timer on Eye of the Storm ran out and the vortex subsided. The foyer was now quiet. Although we exchanged an equal amount of blows, it was clear who the winner was. Except for a few scratches, I was perfectly fine, while the opposing side was currently crawling on the ground.
Cough...!
Two of them were still conscious. I wasn't sure about the guy I kicked last, but I honestly thought the guy I struck in the temple out of anger would have died.
Did he use some sort of defense skill before getting hit?
It seemed the damage he took to the head was still significant, though, because the knight's gait as he staggered toward the door was pitiful.
Whiiiiiip!
The knights, who were conveniently within a five-yard radius of me, were swept up by the powerful winds and pulled toward me. Of course, even as they were, the knights swung their swords. After all, a blow from a knight could slice through heavy armor like butter and cut through flesh and bone without resistance.
"Waaaaaah!"
I swung the Demon Grinder again and again, not bothering with defense. This was how barbarians usually dealt damage. Assuming blows were exchanged on a one-to-one basis, I was confident that I'd be the one who came out victorious in the end.
Whiiip.
The knight who charged at me from my front slashed his sword down. I didn't make any effort to block or dodge.
Slice!
This guy applied so much force that the blade got embedded in my collarbone.
Smash!
I retaliated by driving my hammer into his temple. Right at that moment, the knight rushing at me from the left cut my ankle.
Slice!
Jeez, aiming for the Achilles tendon is low.
I almost lost my center of balance for a moment but thankfully my tendon wasn't severely damaged.
Ziiip.
I quickly balanced myself on my other foot and used my injured foot to kick him in the face like a soccer ball.
Kwaaang!
The knight was sent flying and hit one of the mansion's pillars. Just then, I heard a dull thud behind me.
Khak!
So, you didn't slice, you stabbed.
[Any stabbing damage taken will be reduced by 75%.]
No wonder I didn't feel any pain.
"W-Who the hell are you...?"
The better question is, who are you, kid? You have something to say?
Smash!
I turned around and elbowed him in the jaw. Just like that, there was only one guy left standing.
"Ahhh!" As if to avenge his fallen comrades, the knight went to slice through my neck with a ferocious, golden aura.
My neck's a bit vulnerable.
As there was no need for big, energy-intensive moves, I simply raised my left arm and blocked the blow with my shield.
Choke!
Then I kicked him in the stomach.
Shaaaaaa.
At that moment, the timer on Eye of the Storm ran out and the vortex subsided. The foyer was now quiet. Although we exchanged an equal amount of blows, it was clear who the winner was. Except for a few scratches, I was perfectly fine, while the opposing side was currently crawling on the ground.
Cough...!
Two of them were still conscious. I wasn't sure about the guy I kicked last, but I honestly thought the guy I struck in the temple out of anger would have died.
Did he use some sort of defense skill before getting hit?
It seemed the damage he took to the head was still significant, though, because the knight's gait as he staggered toward the door was pitiful.
"B-Backup..."
Wow, knights sure are professional, huh?
I was impressed by their sense of responsibility, but as I didn't want him to get too far, I used Transcendence followed by Vortex to strike him in the head and knock him out.
And I can ask this guy where the marquess is...
I crouched down and grabbed the head of the knight I kicked in the stomach to make him look at me. "I have a question for you—"
Spit!
...Is this son of a bitch off his rocker?
I was always the one spitting bloody phlegm at other people, so this reversal put me in a bad mood. I bit back my anger and tried again. "Where is the marquess?"
"You... will follow me... to hell."
Who said I'm going to kill you?
I was exasperated, but given how he was spitting curses at me with that resigned look in his eyes, I got the sense he wouldn't answer my questions anyway.
Bang!
I smacked him over the head and continued to deliberate.
What should I do? Should I go out again? Hmm, I think there are wizards out there, though. I don't want to make more of a scene in the first place. It would be nice to have a private conversation with just the marquess... Should I just wait until the son wakes up?
Slide.
As all those thoughts were racing through my mind, I sensed a presence beyond the open doors. I raised my head to check, then slowly rose from my crouch.
"...You won't have to come find me."
The marquess was standing there, wearing the same casual clothes from earlier. That meant he hadn't gone to bed. Well, it could have been because he was busy with work. I wondered what the actual reason was, though. I thought it was more than fair to say he was waiting for his cue to show up. The same went for the troops that swarmed in beside him.
Slide.
When I stood up, the woman next to the marquess placed her hand on the hilt of her sword.
"It's all right, stand down."
"...Yes." The guard immediately took her hand off the sword, following his orders. I studied her closely. First off, this woman was not a knight. Auras were exclusive to humans.
And she's from the dragon tribe.
Confirming her pupils had the characteristic slitted appearance of the dragon tribe, I turned my attention to her equipment.
God damn it.
It hit me what the sword on her waist was. No. 19: Exenith Demon Dragon Sword was a conversion-type longsword that not only greatly amplified physical damage, but converted it into magical damage. Until I finished my Mana Resistance build, that sword could be considered my own personal kryptonite.
I've never heard of this woman...
If equipment corresponded with talent, this woman had to be one of the strongest fighters in the city. It was safe to say there were no weak dragonians to begin with.
There was a moment of silence as I took stock of the situation. The marquess was the first to break it. "Why don't we move this conversation somewhere else?"
"Why should I trust you?"
"Hmm, then at least allow me to take care of those men." When I nodded, the marquess shot the knights beside him a look, and they took their fallen comrades away. "Aside from Ms. Ravien, everyone leave the mansion."
"B-Backup..."
Wow, knights sure are professional, huh?
I was impressed by their sense of responsibility, but as I didn't want him to get too far, I used Transcendence followed by Vortex to strike him in the head and knock him out.
And I can ask this guy where the marquess is...
I crouched down and grabbed the head of the knight I kicked in the stomach to make him look at me. "I have a question for you—"
Spit!
...Is this son of a bitch off his rocker?
I was always the one spitting bloody phlegm at other people, so this reversal put me in a bad mood. I bit back my anger and tried again. "Where is the marquess?"
"You... will follow me... to hell."
Who said I'm going to kill you?
I was exasperated, but given how he was spitting curses at me with that resigned look in his eyes, I got the sense he wouldn't answer my questions anyway.
Bang!
I smacked him over the head and continued to deliberate.
What should I do? Should I go out again? Hmm, I think there are wizards out there, though. I don't want to make more of a scene in the first place. It would be nice to have a private conversation with just the marquess... Should I just wait until the son wakes up?
Slide.
As all those thoughts were racing through my mind, I sensed a presence beyond the open doors. I raised my head to check, then slowly rose from my crouch.
"...You won't have to come find me."
The marquess was standing there, wearing the same casual clothes from earlier. That meant he hadn't gone to bed. Well, it could have been because he was busy with work. I wondered what the actual reason was, though. I thought it was more than fair to say he was waiting for his cue to show up. The same went for the troops that swarmed in beside him.
Slide.
When I stood up, the woman next to the marquess placed her hand on the hilt of her sword.
"It's all right, stand down."
"...Yes." The guard immediately took her hand off the sword, following his orders. I studied her closely. First off, this woman was not a knight. Auras were exclusive to humans.
And she's from the dragon tribe.
Confirming her pupils had the characteristic slitted appearance of the dragon tribe, I turned my attention to her equipment.
God damn it.
It hit me what the sword on her waist was. No. 19: Exenith Demon Dragon Sword was a conversion-type longsword that not only greatly amplified physical damage, but converted it into magical damage. Until I finished my Mana Resistance build, that sword could be considered my own personal kryptonite.
I've never heard of this woman...
If equipment corresponded with talent, this woman had to be one of the strongest fighters in the city. It was safe to say there were no weak dragonians to begin with.
There was a moment of silence as I took stock of the situation. The marquess was the first to break it. "Why don't we move this conversation somewhere else?"
"Why should I trust you?"
"Hmm, then at least allow me to take care of those men." When I nodded, the marquess shot the knights beside him a look, and they took their fallen comrades away. "Aside from Ms. Ravien, everyone leave the mansion."
The marquess withdrew all his troops from the mansion. All that remained was the dragonian woman next to him. But even though the dragonian guard was still present, the marquess didn't hesitate to say my real name.
"Baronet Yandel. I know why you have done this. There must have been a misunderstanding."
Misunderstanding, huh?
True, the marquess must have been flummoxed. Even if I wasn't an evil spirit and just woke up midway through his son's mission to check, he couldn't have known things would escalate like this, and in the middle of his mansion, no less. Of course, I had no reason to be understanding right now.
"You send an assassin after me in the middle of the night and call it a misunderstanding... You have some nerve."
"It's for that precise reason that I'm calling this a misunderstanding. It wasn't an assassin—I only wanted to check whether you are an evil spirit or not."
"...Evil spirit?" I already figured out his motive ages ago but I pretended to be oblivious. Ah, would it make more sense for me to get annoyed here? "...Are you saying you suspected me of being an evil spirit?" The question oozed hostility.
The marquess nodded solemnly at this. "It's better to be certain about these things. As you may have heard, evil spirits are summoned to a gathering every fifteenth day of the month. During that time, they are completely defenseless. I swear, I only intended to check whether you were awake or not."
"...And?"
"This confirms it. You are not an evil spirit."
I let out an inaudible sigh. That was my biggest motivation for wreaking all this havoc. "Then why did you send your son, of all people?"
"That's... because I figured that that way, there wouldn't be any issues even if you woke up."
"Go on."
"First, I didn't know you would make such a fuss. And second, I thought he would be able to handle himself in an emergency." In other words, he figured his son could subdue me even if things went sideways.
"Didn't you worry I might kill him on the spot? Isn't he your only son?"
"Coddling will only make them grow up weak."
So, that's your child-rearing strategy.
Some parts of his explanation were still unclear, but I thought I had a pretty good handle on what had happened.
"Now then, if that clears up our misunderstanding—"
"Just because the misunderstanding is cleared up doesn't mean there's no hard feelings. You haven't completely cleared up the misunderstanding to begin with." When I interrupted him, the marquess scowled at me.
What, you think that'll scare me?
"Do you see this injury?" I held out my already half-healed wrist so that he could see the wound. "It's from when your son ambushed me earlier."
"...Ambushed?"
"I wanted to talk but he pulled out a knife."
"I see, then it was only natural you misunderstood and reacted the way you did. He will be punished accordingly."
"And what about the damage I took?" Not stopping at my wrist, I held out my other injuries from the knights so he could see. Compared to the knights, who were beaten to a pulp, the injuries were extremely minor.
Even as he scoffed, the marquess gave me the answer I wanted. "Since they were caused by a mistake on our part, we'll be sure to reach an agreement that will satisfy you."
Okay, that should be enough compensation.
"Then are you willing to clear the air now and talk?" he asked. "I want us to discuss the second condition I intended to tell you about in the morning."
"Fine."
When I nodded, the dragonian guard beside him pulled a chair out from sub-space like she'd done it a hundred times. It was an expensive and comfortable chair.
Wow, he makes her carry around a chair like that in sub-space? These nobles...
"As I get older, my body is not what it used to be. Ah, do you need a seat as well?"
"No need."
"I'm glad."
"So, what's the second condition?"
There was no need to drag this conversation out so I got straight to the point. In exchange for helping me reclaim my identity, his first stipulation was that I join the war effort. What could be the second?
"Let me confirm one last thing before I get to that." The marquess craftily avoided answering and exercised his right to question me.
Ugh, it's not like I can say no.
"Go ahead."
With my permission, the marquess continued, but the direction he took the conversation was a bit unexpected. "Aside from my son, the four knights you faced earlier were considered quite skilled even within our household."
Really? I took them all down before I even got to see their skills so I couldn't really tell.
"So?"
"I'll ask plainly," said the marquess. "How strong are you?"
The question was a bit out of left field but it made sense when I thought about it. Even the marquess wouldn't know my exact abilities. He just intended to use my reputation to help the war effort.
"Hmm, seeing as you're not answering, I guess it's a difficult question?"
"Not really."
It wasn't a difficult question—it was simply too open-ended. How could you express a person's strength in words? How strong someone was was as relative as time itself, and it thus required something to compare it to. For example...
"That woman."
When I nodded at the dragonian guard, the marquess looked surprised. "Are you saying you're confident you can defeat Ms. Ravien?"
I shook my head. "No." Maybe not defeat. It wasn't like we'd actually fought before, so it was too early to be sure. But the marquess was asking about my combat power, so I answered without a moment's hesitation. "Strong enough to get past that woman and crack your skull."
Was that a good enough answer? Probably. I saw a slight tremor run through the marquess's form, despite the fact that he was usually relaxed even in front of me.
"...He is even more unhinged than the rumor says." High praise left the guard's mouth.
The marquess withdrew all his troops from the mansion. All that remained was the dragonian woman next to him. But even though the dragonian guard was still present, the marquess didn't hesitate to say my real name.
"Baronet Yandel. I know why you have done this. There must have been a misunderstanding."
Misunderstanding, huh?
True, the marquess must have been flummoxed. Even if I wasn't an evil spirit and just woke up midway through his son's mission to check, he couldn't have known things would escalate like this, and in the middle of his mansion, no less. Of course, I had no reason to be understanding right now.
"You send an assassin after me in the middle of the night and call it a misunderstanding... You have some nerve."
"It's for that precise reason that I'm calling this a misunderstanding. It wasn't an assassin—I only wanted to check whether you are an evil spirit or not."
"...Evil spirit?" I already figured out his motive ages ago but I pretended to be oblivious. Ah, would it make more sense for me to get annoyed here? "...Are you saying you suspected me of being an evil spirit?" The question oozed hostility.
The marquess nodded solemnly at this. "It's better to be certain about these things. As you may have heard, evil spirits are summoned to a gathering every fifteenth day of the month. During that time, they are completely defenseless. I swear, I only intended to check whether you were awake or not."
"...And?"
"This confirms it. You are not an evil spirit."
I let out an inaudible sigh. That was my biggest motivation for wreaking all this havoc. "Then why did you send your son, of all people?"
"That's... because I figured that that way, there wouldn't be any issues even if you woke up."
"Go on."
"First, I didn't know you would make such a fuss. And second, I thought he would be able to handle himself in an emergency." In other words, he figured his son could subdue me even if things went sideways.
"Didn't you worry I might kill him on the spot? Isn't he your only son?"
"Coddling will only make them grow up weak."
So, that's your child-rearing strategy.
Some parts of his explanation were still unclear, but I thought I had a pretty good handle on what had happened.
"Now then, if that clears up our misunderstanding—"
"Just because the misunderstanding is cleared up doesn't mean there's no hard feelings. You haven't completely cleared up the misunderstanding to begin with." When I interrupted him, the marquess scowled at me.
What, you think that'll scare me?
"Do you see this injury?" I held out my already half-healed wrist so that he could see the wound. "It's from when your son ambushed me earlier."
"...Ambushed?"
"I wanted to talk but he pulled out a knife."
"I see, then it was only natural you misunderstood and reacted the way you did. He will be punished accordingly."
"And what about the damage I took?" Not stopping at my wrist, I held out my other injuries from the knights so he could see. Compared to the knights, who were beaten to a pulp, the injuries were extremely minor.
Even as he scoffed, the marquess gave me the answer I wanted. "Since they were caused by a mistake on our part, we'll be sure to reach an agreement that will satisfy you."
Okay, that should be enough compensation.
"Then are you willing to clear the air now and talk?" he asked. "I want us to discuss the second condition I intended to tell you about in the morning."
"Fine."
When I nodded, the dragonian guard beside him pulled a chair out from sub-space like she'd done it a hundred times. It was an expensive and comfortable chair.
Wow, he makes her carry around a chair like that in sub-space? These nobles...
"As I get older, my body is not what it used to be. Ah, do you need a seat as well?"
"No need."
"I'm glad."
"So, what's the second condition?"
There was no need to drag this conversation out so I got straight to the point. In exchange for helping me reclaim my identity, his first stipulation was that I join the war effort. What could be the second?
"Let me confirm one last thing before I get to that." The marquess craftily avoided answering and exercised his right to question me.
Ugh, it's not like I can say no.
"Go ahead."
With my permission, the marquess continued, but the direction he took the conversation was a bit unexpected. "Aside from my son, the four knights you faced earlier were considered quite skilled even within our household."
Really? I took them all down before I even got to see their skills so I couldn't really tell.
"So?"
"I'll ask plainly," said the marquess. "How strong are you?"
The question was a bit out of left field but it made sense when I thought about it. Even the marquess wouldn't know my exact abilities. He just intended to use my reputation to help the war effort.
"Hmm, seeing as you're not answering, I guess it's a difficult question?"
"Not really."
It wasn't a difficult question—it was simply too open-ended. How could you express a person's strength in words? How strong someone was was as relative as time itself, and it thus required something to compare it to. For example...
"That woman."
When I nodded at the dragonian guard, the marquess looked surprised. "Are you saying you're confident you can defeat Ms. Ravien?"
I shook my head. "No." Maybe not defeat. It wasn't like we'd actually fought before, so it was too early to be sure. But the marquess was asking about my combat power, so I answered without a moment's hesitation. "Strong enough to get past that woman and crack your skull."
Was that a good enough answer? Probably. I saw a slight tremor run through the marquess's form, despite the fact that he was usually relaxed even in front of me.
"...He is even more unhinged than the rumor says." High praise left the guard's mouth.