Chapter 20
Chapter 20
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 020
Chapter Title: It's Not a Lie!
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"Absolutely not!"
Naturally, the moment Kallion heard they were heading to the Demon Realm with Roden in tow, he nearly had a fit. Even the dignified facade he always put on in front of his underlings crumbled completely.
But as the saying goes, parents can't win against their kids. Especially with Roden, who'd already run away from home once to force his way through—this time, Kallion had no choice but to yield.
After several heated arguments, he finally grumbled, "Do whatever you want," and shut himself away in a huff. While Roden busied himself with preparations for the expedition, Kallion quietly called Shan aside and whispered a word.
"Take good care of Roden. You know how he's all bulk but soft-hearted at the core."
One might think he'd resent Shan for filling his son's head with wild ideas, but Kallion didn't show a hint of it. He knew Roden hadn't completely given up on his dream of succeeding as a warrior.
Shan repeatedly assured him that Roden's safety would always come first.
In the meantime, Roden proved himself a fine squire by wrapping up his preparations for the Demon Realm expedition both swiftly and meticulously.
Since they'd be traversing cold, rugged areas in winter, he packed thick, sturdy cotton clothes instead of thin, fancy silks. He sorted money from gold and silver coins to portable gems for high-value trades. For rations, he focused on premium dried meats from quality cuts. He even repaired the chainmail that had gotten a bit tight on Shan lately...
Shan, who was never one for meticulous planning, could only stick out his tongue in admiration.
"You've got a ton of stuff to pack. I was just gonna grab a spear or sword and bolt."
"That's why you need me."
Watching this, even Kallion had to admit Roden was exactly what Shan needed. He'd drilled knightly refinement into him steadily, but this kind of finesse came from innate temperament and long-honed habits—nothing you could change overnight.
As winter's end approached, the two finally set out from the east gate of the capital, Hasra.
"Feels weird walking out all bold like this instead of sneaking away. Almost like we're not coming back alive..."
"Didn't you tell me not to jinx it last time?"
"Just a feeling."
The pale winter sun shone on the path ahead of the two young men chasing their dreams.
Their first destination was Shedil, a major city in eastern Pendia. As a trade hub linking small estates near the Demon Realm to the capital Hasra, it served as a base camp for adventurers plunging into the Demon Realm. Perfect for gathering intel or recruiting companions.
"Think we need more people?"
"Definitely. Two rookies charging straight in? Suicide."
Roden bombarded Shan with all the challenges he'd researched about Demon Realm expeditions—from bizarre monsters hard to drive off physically, to twisted natural phenomena and perilous ruins from the old Altoin era. No way could one powerhouse warrior and two crafty youths handle it all alone.
"We need a guide familiar with the terrain, a mage or scholar who reads ancient Altoin script, and a priest skilled in dispelling curses and healing."
"That's five minimum."
"Actually, we could use more fighters too. No matter how strong you are, you can't be a swordsman, spearman, and archer all at once. But too many people means splitting loot and supply issues... Best to pick folks who can fight while handling their roles."
Such talents would be rare even around the Demon Realm, demanding hefty pay. Shan groaned at the headache.
"I'll leave recruiting and managing to you."
"I'll snag the best I can. Might need to show off your skills, though."
"Eh, fine."
Thanks to Roden's thorough planning, the journey passed without major hitches. They got turned away from inns now and then due to Shan's Altoin blood, but other times they exterminated a pack of ghouls prowling nearby and got VIP treatment, or spent the night with hidden Altoin villagers.
One thing they definitely noticed: the closer to the Demon Realm, the more frequent monster encounters. Normal animals were scarce, and merchants traveled in armed groups of dozens with mercenary escorts. Human lands dotted the monster-infested wilds like points on a map, connected by tenuous lines.
Leaping from village to city like stepping stones, exactly ten days in—they reached Shedil, Pendia's largest eastern metropolis.
"Not as big as Hasra, but still impressive."
"You're already sounding like a city boy. If you'd seen it first thing, you'd be gaping like a bumpkin."
Shan chuckled sheepishly at Roden's tease. True enough, old Shan would've gawked wide-eyed at this place. Monsters plagued the area so badly there were hardly any farms, but trading monster parts let them import grain en masse to sustain the population.
Proximity to the Demon Realm showed in the towering walls—taller and thicker than most—and mana stones embedded not just at gates but along the battlements, etched with magic circles proclaiming heavy enchantments.
"Who wouldn't yank those out at night?"
"Probably warded against it, duh."
Chatting idly, they entered, found an inn, unpacked, and flopped onto beds. After a full day recovering from travel fatigue, they headed straight for Shedil's famed Adventurers' Guild at dawn.
"Adventurers' Guild... Just here, right?"
"Yeah. Different from mercenaries. They appraise and buy Demon Realm hauls, broker parties, track feats."
Guilds of armed adventurers were always a threat to rulers, tolerated only in Demon Realm border cities like this. The leadership here was even appointed directly by the local lord, making it quasi-official.
Strolling and talking, Shan felt the east had way more Altoin than the west. Unlike Hasra's slum-dwellers, many here dressed neatly.
Some looked like mercenaries, like that one-armed Kob from before. Shockingly, even guards. Shan gaped at one with a horn poking from his helmet.
"Whoa, Altoin guards? Hasra didn't have those..."
"Lord here doesn't mind using Altoin. Good knighting candidate later."
Shedil's Count was a noble famed as a knight. Old now, but young he'd ripped horns off monsters barehanded, or so the tales went.
"Course, location means no central advancement. Not our worry now—just a prospect."
Asking directions, they entered the guild and were hit with noise and chaos. Folks in wild outfits bellowed like mad; hard to tell customers from staff.
They wandered like villagers before spotting a guild worker.
"New faces. What do you want?"
A scarred middle-aged man picked his nose with his pinky. Roden switched to 'knight mode,' speaking formally.
Eastern Pendia had so many heavies armed to the teeth that his gear didn't scream knight anymore. But a burly, bearded warrior always commanded respect.
"Here for Demon Realm expedition companions."
"Rich-kid rookies? Tough to match good ones with that. Go home."
Roden flinched at "rookie," and even Shan eyed the man. Few could guess Roden's age right from his muscled frame and beard.
"Why stare? Looks tough, but skin's too smooth—gives it away. Any skills? You look fight-only. The kid a squire?"
"I pull my weight... And this guy's a monster. Knights wouldn't stand a chance."
The guilder gawked skeptically at Shan. Next to Roden's giant frame, he looked tiny—barely over 160cm, lean but toned...
"That shrimp? Knights a joke to you?"
"Never joked about knights. I trained for it once."
"Not a mage, I hope?"
"No."
Shan watched Roden and the guilder trade barbs silently. After tense eye contact, the guilder spoke first.
"Fine, noted. We don't verify strength. Big blustering rook and 'stronger-than-knight' kid..."
"He's Altoin, FYI. Prefer no anti-Altoin bias. New Faith optional."
"Demands galore! Ideal types?"
"Guide for terrain, mage/scholar for Altoin relics, self-defending priest."
"Crazy talk! Those are one in a hundred adventurers!"
"Stronger-than-knight warriors are just as rare."
As the guilder scoffed, Roden grinned and hopped atop a nearby barrel.
"Attention everyone!"
His boom hushed the rowdy hall briefly. Nearby adventurers plugged ears and glared, but he pressed on.
"My companion here—the boy beside me—and I seek Demon Realm explorers! He's an invincible warrior knights themselves couldn't touch!"
"Bullshit and scram, idiot!"
"Loudmouth pig!"
"Shut it! Nearly busted my ears!"
"Get off my barrel!"
Harsh curses flew from the rough crowd, but Roden ignored them, pulling out a gold pouch and jingling it. The clink and heft silenced them fast.
"Proof: 100 gold coins! One-on-one wooden sword duel in the square. Land one hit on this boy, it's all yours!"
"Ooh!"
"Me!"
"I'll smash him!"
Seconds ago cursing, now eyes gleamed with greed. Chainmail and sword or not, he was a scrawny kid smaller than most men.
Didn't even need to win—just tag him back for 100 gold? Easy money!
Even non-fighters cheered, till a level-headed one asked:
"What if we lose?"
"You lose! Fighting a genius stronger than knights and losing? Expected! Just own any cracked skulls or broken bones!"
To Demon Realm vets risking death daily, no conditions meant no risk. Shouts to join rose; the guilder scowled.
"Damn noisy! What possessed you..."
"Our business outside's our call."
"Can't argue that."
The guilder groaned and shook his head like it was none of his business.
The usually quiet square by the guild filled with armed folk, drawing city guards for crowd control.
Roden slipped them some silver, insisting it was light sparring with wooden swords, not a real fight. Higher-ups among them looked intrigued.
"Sounds fun. We joining?"
"Uh, sure, why not..."
Now even guards piled in—no stopping it. Adventurers from the guild ringed a makeshift arena; inside, Shan and Roden chatted quietly.
"We're really doing this."
"You said you could handle it."
"One accidental hit okay?"
"Hey."
"Relax. One-on-one, even Peonil couldn't touch me."
Roden chuckled at the Black Spear Knight's name and clapped Shan's back. Amid squabbling adventurers and guards, the first challenger stepped up.
"Huh, say 'ready, begin' first?"
The mumbler towered over Roden, his wooden sword looking toy-sized. At least 2m, maybe more.
Whispers pegged him local celeb. Guards—even ex-adventurers—deferred respectfully, confirming his rep.
"We both think start, we start—"
Mid-sentence, he swung at Shan's head in a sneak attack—lethal if it connected. Weak-stomached onlookers gasped or screamed.
To Shan, it crawled like a worm. Size and strength meant nothing without skill; unskilled foes were toys, stuffed dolls.
Shan sidestepped lazily, raising his wooden sword. Wood clacked dully as they crossed; the giant's jaw took the hit, eyes rolled, and he crumpled.
"Bear-Hunter Pakan down in one!"
"From a stick?"
"Didn't even see the kid swing."
'Bear-Hunter' came from slaying an owl-bear—not a real bear, but a monster fiercer than any. For such a vet to drop instantly? Huge news.
Onlookers realized Shan was no ordinary kid, swallowing hard. Obvious now—no way they'd bet if he was average.
"Not bluffing...?"
A shaky mutter as the second challenger—a mid-40s ex-adventurer guard—stepped up.
"Nice to meet ya, kid."
"Shan."
"Shan. Go easy—old bones don't heal right."
Despite whining, his skill was solid. Swordplay clunky without his usual blade, but timing and ferocity sharp—for normals.
Shan parried leisurely, deflected, then tapped the guard's gauntleted knuckles thrice. Realizing the gap, the man sweated and backed off.
"Whew... No contest. I lose."
"What? Looked even."
"No grit."
Unlike adventurers, he went easy on guards to avoid offending authorities. Beating thugs was fine; KOing guards hurt prestige. They could disband it.
Shan kept dropping adventurers with jaw, temple, crown, or throat taps for KOs, and politely schooling guards. One berserked despite warnings but backed off after sword-to-eye threats.
Through spars, Shan appreciated Darkal's training anew.
Before, he'd handled these levels by vital strikes and agility exploiting gaps, compensating weak power.
Now, like true swordsmen, he blocked, countered, even overpowered. Light weight hurt staying power a bit, but spirit covered it—no biggie.
Past Shan was killer; now, warrior.
After ten-plus, next wore full chainmail, face-hiding helm—heavy kit. Wood couldn't pierce, so tank hits and swing back—shallow plan.
Jeers flew, but no rules banned armor—fair game.
"Raaagh!"
He charged arms-wide, no parry intent. Shan burst laughing. Obvious: take hit, grab, tag back.
Waiting still, Shan thrust spiritedly at the helm. Piercing will would've skewered; instead, it amplified impact—just enough not to snap neck.
As the foe halted from shock's boom, Shan raised high and slashed down—with clear cutting will.
Helm to chain shirt and pants split neatly, sparing inner clothes and skin—exposing him utterly. No idiot could miss it now.
"...Spirit?"
"Duh, moron."
"Slicing chainmail with a wooden sword?"
Spirit-awakened weren't rare among elite soldiers/mercs/adventurers. Extreme training forged it, or decades of near-death honed transcendence in the talented/lucky.
But this kid's was leagues beyond crude versions. Untouched through ten-plus vets, precisely slicing only armor? Pure swordsmanship.
Audience paled realizing he matched—or surpassed—knights: a monster. Roden bellowed for more challengers; none came.
Thus, Shan's name etched deep in Demon Realm aspirants' minds.