042. Unexpected Uninvited Guest 3
Rumble rumble rumble!
An earthquake struck in an instant. As the ground heaved violently, the serfs scrambled into action. The chairs they sat on and the tables laden with food shook wildly. In the end, the dishes and food crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces.
Crash! Clang! Clang!
Amid the noise, two attacks grazed past Emma Grander.
A red triangular spear wind and a blue half-moon fan wind.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Though not quite matching Emma's massive bulk, they were still impressive in size—roughly on par with Bin Bascon's own sword winds.
As the attacks flew in, Emma thought to himself,
'Someone capable of sword winds like these must have done it on purpose—grazing me.'
Emma turned toward the direction from which the sword winds had come.
There stood a man wielding a red spear and a beauty with porcelain skin.
Bascon's 2nd Centurion Hipo and 3rd Centurion Chosi.
Hipo, mounted on his red horse and gripping a long spear.
Chosi, holding a blue fan.
Bin's eyes flashed as he spotted them.
'2nd Division Captain Hipo. 3rd Division Captain Chosi.'
Hipo, a spear master even Moden Bascon acknowledged. His only flaw was his overwhelming pride.
And Chosi, hailed as the continent's greatest beauty. Her striking features were so captivating they could steal one's soul in an instant.
Even the serfs gaped, utterly entranced by her allure.
Irritated by the sight, Hipo snorted and glared at the serfs.
"How dare you ogle my wife…."
"……."
The serfs hastily wiped the drool from their mouths and pretended to stare off into space.
They knew better than to catch Hipo's ire—lest they lose their heads.
Gritting his teeth, Hipo bellowed at Emma.
"Emma! If you keep rampaging, I'll sever your head and make my name echo across the realm!"
His bold tone brimmed with unshakable confidence.
A bold ambition against the deputy head of House Grander.
That was how proud Hipo was of his spear skills.
Chosi fixed Emma with a chilling glare.
"Please withdraw while we're asking nicely. Consider it courtesy to House Grander's deputy head."
Her words were soft, but laced with thorns. Despite her delicate appearance, she clearly wasn't one to trifle with.
The serfs' eyes widened at the sight of the three centurions.
"So this is the power of Centurion Herion's sword, Batos…."
Batos. A sword with a short blade but considerable thickness. It could trigger earthquakes and had once proven invaluable in war, sowing chaos in enemy lines and maddening their warhorses.
Its power surely demanded immense mana.
Yet to see a white-haired elder wielding such a weapon was astonishing.
One dazed serf murmured while staring at Centurion Herion.
"To wield that kind of power at his age…."
"It's like time itself can't touch him…."
Another serf chimed in as his words trailed off.
"Captain Hipo and Chosi seem even more skilled than before."
Unlike just minutes ago, the serfs' faces now lit up with hope.
They had been cowed by House Grander's deputy head, Emma.
But with all three centurions stepping up, their spirits lifted.
The three candidates, however, wore grim expressions.
Willie Bascon, one of them, bit his lip as he watched.
'The momentum's shifting to wrap this up. But it's my turn to settle the score….'
Willie clearly disliked how things were unfolding.
He had been ready to face Emma with his signature claws, Amones.
But the situation wasn't going his way, leaving him uneasy.
Silva Bascon felt much the same.
'A Super Nova like me, humiliated like this… What a disgrace….'
Silva wanted to reclaim his dignity.
Especially now, with so many watching—to etch into their minds who would succeed House Bascon.
Bin felt the same regret.
A primal urge boiled deep in his chest to clash with Emma.
And in battle against the strong, he could sense it.
The other power stirring within him—House Bascon's innate strength.
'If I fight him now, I might get closer to unlocking this power.'
Even if he fought Emma, the centurions would surely intervene.
Bin swallowed his disappointment and kept his eyes on Emma.
Emma eyed the three centurions and let out a hiccup.
"Hic!"
It wasn't from fear—just a habit.
Still wearing his carefree expression, Emma glanced around.
"What brings the busy centurions here…? Old man Herion the White Dog's still spry as ever."
Herion smirked at Emma's words, curling the corner of his mouth.
"As you see. As long as House Grander endures, this body won't lay down. If you won't stop here… you won't leave in one piece."
Emma flashed a faint smile at Centurion Herion's words.
The three candidates and centurions focused intently, wondering what decision Emma would make.
The situation hinged on him.
Soon, Emma shook his head.
"This is ruining the taste of my drink… It's turned into a mess. Let's postpone this fight."
As he scanned the three candidates, his gaze locked onto Bin.
The most intriguing opponent—and he was curious what form he'd take next time.
Bin met Emma's eyes and spoke curtly.
"Next time, you won't walk away in one piece."
Emma snorted dismissively and turned away without a hint of lingering attachment.
Then, staggering drunkenly, he began to leave.
In Bascon's banquet hall this time, Emma realized something.
'House Bascon… Moden's sons have grown more than I thought. Even if Grander still holds the edge, things could shift if this continues.'
It was no longer the Bascon House he knew.
Moden's children had grown far beyond expectations.
'Especially that one….'
Emma pictured Bin in his mind.
He had sucked away his mana in an instant.
Even as Grander's deputy head.
Normally, he could take on the three centurions.
But with his mana depleted, it would be tough now.
Emma took another swig and muttered cryptically.
Gulp gulp.
'We need to hurry the operation underway in the family.'
A short while later.
A strange tension hung over Elephant Rock, Etrta.
It stemmed from the three centurion candidates—the brothers.
They had never fought a single opponent together before.
Yet they had coordinated against Emma.
Their attacks had been superb, but now silence fell.
"……."
In the awkward atmosphere, Willie spoke first.
"Tch, that Emma bastard ruined the mood."
Silva wore a hollow expression as he replied.
"Look who's talking… Who here isn't pissed about how this turned out?"
Bin, meanwhile, shot a glance at his grumbling brothers and focused on his left arm.
'A massive amount of mana….'
He recalled the earlier scene.
The black mist that had bloomed before Emma's eyes.
It had outright stolen his mana.
The result? His magic had failed.
And it wasn't just about foiling a spell.
It held profound implications.
A being capable of nullifying House Grander's tricky magic.
In a word, their natural counter.
Bin's lips curved upward.
'Helden, this life won't be easy for you.'
As Bin sank into thought, a retainer spoke up.
"We apologize for the unfortunate incident just before the centurion announcement. Now, we will reveal the results for the centurion candidates."
The surrounding serfs perked up their ears.
The three candidates leaned in, hanging on his every word.
Their fates rested on it.
"The two candidates advancing are Silva…."
* * *
A few days later.
The banquet at Elephant Rock, Etrta, had concluded.
Two candidates were selected.
Willie was eliminated.
This meant a showdown between Silva and Bin.
The two centurion candidates were preparing for their duel day.
And true to Bascon form, it would be a proper duel.
Bin's expression darkened as he thought,
'As things stand, it might be tough.'
He recalled that moment.
When Emma had crashed the Bascon banquet.
Bin pictured Willie's claws gleaming silver.
The weapons had grown massively, whirlwinds swirling around them.
Remembering that, Bin mused,
'I need to achieve Opening with my weapon….'
The power that elevated a weapon's might even further.
If he could use magi, maybe.
But as is, victory over Silva wasn't guaranteed.
He needed to draw out Opening using his innate dark attribute.
As Bin pondered, someone approached.
Thud. Tap. Thud. Tap.
Irregular footsteps.
The sound alone identified the one-legged dwarf, Ront.
Leaning on his staff, he stood before Bin and spoke.
"What're you frettin' over? You've been mulling it plain as day these past few days."
"…I've got some worries. That aside, Ront—could I ask a favor?"
"A favor? You've done me favors before; consider this payback. If it's somethin' I can manage, I'll do my best."
Ront nodded, and Bin's eyes sharpened with resolve.
Staring steadily at Ront, Bin said,
"Ront, tell me about Opening for supreme-grade weapons."
"Su—supreme-grade weapon Opening?! How did you know I could use 'Opening' on weapons…?!"
Ront couldn't hide his shock.
Normally, only those deeply attuned to weapons could perform Opening.
Bin knew from his past life's memories.
That Ront could do it.
In the past, Ront had bragged about it endlessly—how few dwarves like him could wield Opening.
Bin replied casually to the flustered Ront.
"I figured someone who's handled countless weapons like you could. So, you can do it."
"Heh heh… Can't deny that. But Opening ain't easy…."
"I'm prepared."
Not a flicker of doubt in Bin's eyes.
His expression made it clear: this was no joke.
"……."
Ront stroked his chin, eyeing Bin.
Then he tilted his head, puzzled.
"But are you right in the head?! Opening on a weapon you can't even control the backlash from? You think supreme-grade Opening is a walk in the park?"
"It's the only way right now. Even if I can only swing it once—that'll be enough."
"Ergh…."
Ront rubbed his chin, pondering.
"If you're that set on it, I can't take responsibility… But that place…."
Bin, full of questions at Ront's words, pressed,
"That place?"