Chapter 132: The Value of a Single Sword (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 132: The Value of a Single Sword (1)
The members of the Northeast Association had gathered once again.
"The swordsmanship tournament hosted by the Dmitry family... This is a great opportunity for us to avenge our past humiliation," Viscount Conrad declared.
As soon as he heard the rumors, he had immediately contacted the members of the Northeast Association.
"Roman Dmitry has promised not only a prize of one hundred gold, but also to grant any request the winner makes. If the Northeast Association can produce the champion, we can stand before the public with the authority of the victor. At that moment, instead of demanding an apology from Roman Dmitry, we will show magnanimity by offering to let bygones be bygones. The benefit we gain from this is clear. With a single act of forgiveness, we can restore our relationship with Dmitry and reclaim our fallen honor."
Through his previous contact with Count Fabius, Viscount Conrad had realized just how important Roman Dmitry truly was.
Rather than trying to exact complete revenge and ruining their relationship beyond repair, he believed that a strategy to save face for both sides at a reasonable level was the ideal scenario. The Northeast Association forgiving Roman's actions—this was a golden opportunity to restore their honor and forge a new connection with Dmitry.
One noble spoke up. "The problem is whether we can actually win. There are many others outside the Northeast Association showing interest in the tournament. Is it really possible for us to beat them all and claim victory?"
"Indeed. And among those who follow Roman Dmitry, there are men named Chris and Kevin. You remember them, don't you? The ones who appeared alongside Roman during the Great Warrior Battle against Barco. I recall they showed incredible combat prowess back then. If they enter the tournament representing Dmitry, winning won't be so easy."
This was a major obstacle.
Winning.
The entire plan was only viable if they reached the very top.
In response to their concerns, Viscount Conrad smiled. "Yes, I do not think winning will be easy either. However, the tournament will be divided into six separate divisions. Chris? Kevin? Even if they are formidable, they cannot participate in every single division unless they can split themselves into six bodies. This means there will inevitably be gaps among the swordsmen Dmitry can field. That is exactly the point we must exploit. We just need to mobilize our families' full strength and distribute our fighters evenly across the six divisions. If we do that, we will surely produce a winner in at least one of them."
"...That actually sounds plausible."
"Hearing it now, it doesn't seem like a bad plan. As long as we produce just one winner, our plan succeeds, doesn't it?"
Over the past few days, the Northeast Association had endured deep humiliation. They couldn't even hold their heads up in public, and they had no idea how to resolve their situation with Roman.
Revenge and compromise.
To achieve both successfully, there was undoubtedly no better opportunity than this.
Viscount Conrad's eyes gleamed. "The tournament is one month from now. Keep this in mind, everyone. If we fail to seize this heaven-sent opportunity, there will be no way to restore the fallen reputation of the Northeast Association. Spare no means or methods. Even if we have to disguise an outside expert as a 'man of the Northeast,' we must produce a winner by any means necessary. Frankly speaking, it shouldn't even be that difficult. No matter how great Dmitry's power is, they aren't so overwhelming that they can monopolize all six divisions, are they? In the end, they are just a family from the periphery. With this opportunity, we can leap forward once again."
The coming month.
They firmly believed their time of humiliation would not last long. The bats of the Northeast would survive, just as they always had.
* * *
At that same time, Roman summoned his subordinates.
Chris, Kevin, McBurney, and the others.
Looking down at them as they gazed up at him in reverence, Roman spoke in a calm voice.
"I assume you have all heard the rumors that I am hosting a tournament. From this moment on, I declare a state of infinite competition among you. For the next month, you will compete against one another and test your skills to select the six warriors who will represent the Dmitry family. Your past evaluations do not matter. Only your performance over this coming month will represent your current standing."
Instantly, the eyes of his subordinates changed.
Even though no reward had been offered yet, the mere word "competition" made the atmosphere turn heavy.
'We have left the Southern Front, but our war is not yet over. From the moment I clearly declared my path, clashing with the influential figures of Cairo became unavoidable. Therefore, while staying in Dmitry, it is necessary to maintain the tension we carried on the battlefield. Like a sharp sword ready to be drawn at any moment, I will give my subordinates a reason to yearn for strength.'
War.
Roman and his subordinates had survived a fierce, bloody period together.
While some grew from their experiences, others had lost their edge, lulled by the comfortable rest in the capital. The relief of escaping the battlefield, combined with the endless praise showered upon them for their exploits—for various complex reasons, the aftermath of war did not always leave a positive impact on everyone.
Life in Dmitry was peaceful. It was a time when their mindsets could easily grow lax.
Rather than standing by and watching this change, Roman gave his aimless subordinates a reason to burn with passion.
"Those who represent Dmitry and elevate its name deserve a fitting reward. If you are selected as one of the six swordsmen and proudly claim victory in the tournament, I will teach the winner a higher-tier technique. There are various types of techniques. Whether it is a mind method, a sword technique, or movement techniques, I will teach you the most suitable method to leap to a higher stage from your current realm."
A higher-tier technique.
His subordinates swallowed hard.
Even if this were merely a test of their loyalty, they would have risked their lives and struggled desperately to win. But a higher-tier technique? They knew exactly what that meant.
'Our liege is a being on an entirely different level from us. He possesses vast knowledge that would be considered absolute treasures on the continent, and just by receiving a fraction of it, we have grown strong at a rapid pace. If our lord describes it as a higher-tier technique suited to our current state, it must be an incredible opportunity. He will undoubtedly teach us a technique so great that it cannot even be compared to a meager prize of one hundred gold.'
Sparks flew in the air.
Through the war with Hector, deep camaraderie had built up among them. Although their mutual trust had grown solid, they had no intention of holding back on the stage Roman had openly set for them. Within the same group, they all wished to be the absolute best.
In the fire Roman had ignited, their eyes were already burning with fierce determination.
'The purpose of this tournament is twofold: to force the nobles of the Northeast to face reality, and to perfectly temper my subordinates. Once the tournament is over, the situation in the Northeast will likely become quite a sight to behold.'
It was an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.
Roman unleashed his subordinates.
"From this moment on, the infinite competition begins."
* * *
After dismissing his men, Roman organized his thoughts.
'The coming month. It is also time for me to reorganize myself.'
The Southern Front. Roman had seen a new world there.
By clashing swords with Butler, he realized that there were still strong individuals on the continent he had yet to experience, and Edwin Hector's magic had been completely unpredictable. For the first time since living as Roman Dmitry, he had felt his life was in genuine danger. Yet, those consecutive crises had only allowed Roman to burn his presence even brighter.
Heavenly Demon Baek Joong-hyuk was a being born on the boundary of life and death. Crisis was familiar to him; it made him feel truly alive.
But...
'Courting danger is a foolish act. I merely risked my life for victory, and to avoid repeating such a crisis, the only way is for me to become stronger. Just as my subordinates will engage in infinite competition for the next month, I too will find a way to move forward during this time.'
To process the enlightenment gained on the battlefield, it was time for closed-door training. He planned to stay in the forge once again, reflecting on his condition while forging a new sword.
A sword was merely a tool.
To advance to a new realm, he needed a blade suited for it. Yeomhwa, which had once suited him perfectly, could no longer keep up with his power. It was a natural outcome. Since he always forged a sword suited to his current state, the blade he used before became a relic of the past the moment he took a step forward.
Before entering closed-door training, Roman called for Lucas.
"Did you call for me?"
As the head of the information guild, Lucas had accomplished a great deal in a short amount of time. Utilizing Dmitry's manpower and wealth, he had quickly seized control of the surrounding areas, and recently, he had even absorbed the information guild, Black Moon. Roman's prediction had been correct. Lucas possessed outstanding abilities, and because Roman had offered clear rewards, Lucas had rapidly established the structure of the Hao Sect.
It was completely different from the past. If Roman wanted information on Barco now, Lucas had the capability to deliver it within just five minutes.
"For the next month, I intend to undergo closed-door training," Roman said. "I will not receive any reports during this time, with only one exception. If an emergency occurs within the family, you must convey the facts to me immediately."
"Understood."
"And I want you to sell this sword."
Roman handed over the sword. It was Yeomhwa. He had decided that to forge a new sword, he needed to let go of his existing one.
"Its original name is Yeomhwa, but since it is leaving to find a new master, I have decided to call it Blaze. Any method of sale is fine. Find a new master for Blaze without revealing that I am the creator of the sword. You may use the proceeds as funds for the information guild."
This was the way of Heavenly Demon Baek Joong-hyuk. Living as the Heavenly Demon, he had forged many swords, and every time he crafted a new one, he let go of his previous blade without any lingering regrets.
It was the pure desire of an artisan.
Although the sword was no longer needed by his current self, he hoped it would shine brightly in the hands of another. The swords of the Heavenly Demon that were released into the world in this manner were hailed as absolute treasures. They wandered the world, meeting countless masters, and as those masters achieved fame, they proved to the world that Heavenly Demon Baek Joong-hyuk was also a magnificent artisan.
This time was no different.
Over the coming month, Roman would spend his time preparing to accept a new sword. That was why he was letting go of this relic of the past. He hoped that the reputation of 'Roman Dmitry' would play absolutely no part in the sword finding its new master. If it were known as a sword crafted by the hero of Cairo, a wealthy collector would undoubtedly buy it at an exorbitant price, regardless of its actual quality.
He did not want such an outcome. At the very least, he wanted his sword to find a master who truly recognized its worth.
Lucas carefully took the sword. "I will see you in a month."
With that final exchange, Roman turned away.
Closed-door training. It was time to spend a hot and intense period in the forge.
* * *
After parting ways with Roman, Lucas examined the sword from various angles.
"No matter how I look at it, this is an incredible masterpiece. Why does he want to sell something like this?"
He was not a blacksmith. However, having roamed countless battlefields, he had developed a keen eye for distinguishing good weapons, and the sword before him was undoubtedly a masterpiece.
The smoothly extending blade. The flashing, sharp aura.
He swallowed hard. If he had it his way, he would have paid a fortune to use it himself, but that would go against his lord's command.
'What a shame. If I were still active in the field, I would have done whatever it took to buy this.'
Lucas kept a clear line between public duty and private desire. If it was Roman's command, he would follow it without the slightest error. Yet, as he suppressed his desire for the sword, an interesting idea suddenly occurred to him.
'My lord said any method of sale is fine. If I put this sword up for auction anonymously, how much value would it fetch? That wouldn't be a bad method. Since my lord wished for the sword to find its proper master, someone who truly recognizes its value will bid a high price.'
It was a perfect plan.
His destination was decided: the commercial hub of the Northeast. He headed toward the territory of Count Adelian, which possessed a Warp Gate directly connected to the capital.
The Adelian Auction House.
Lucas's heart fluttered with anticipation, eager to see what would unfold there in the near future.