Chapter 168
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 168
Chapter Title: Clash with the Young Serpents
Tadadadadak!
The heart of the White Heron Mountains.
In the forest of this remote mountain range, where not a soul could be found even if you scoured it with your eyes wide open, a man was hurtling through the trees, stepping nimbly on the branches between them.
His lithe movements were so graceful they could pass for an elf's.
Birds that had been leisurely perched in the trees took flight in startled flutters at the man's fierce momentum, but unfortunately, he had no time to spare for such trivial distractions.
How long had he been racing through the mountains?
Eventually, a vast open basin hidden behind a ridgeline came into view, and the man plunged down the slope almost as if flying.
"Haaah... Man, I'm sleepy. Did I overdo it yesterday?"
"Tsk tsk, that's what you get for not knowing when to stop screwing around."
"Hey, what was I supposed to do? Things were getting good... Stopping there would've been idiotic."
"Yeah, and that's why you lost every last coin, right?"
The sentries chatting idly about nothing important paid no mind as the man continued his furious dash toward Ye's stronghold.
"It was just a little slip at the end... Hold on. Who's that?"
"If you're still half-asleep, go splash some water on your face. Who'd come here at this hour anyway...? Wait, is that for real?"
The bandit who had been scolding his excuse-making comrade suddenly spotted the man charging toward them like a madman.
"Wait... Isn't that Lord Balteran?!"
"What're you talking about? You must still be dreaming... No, that's him?!"
"Whoa, what the hell's going on! Hey, open the gate! Let him through!!"
The sentries hurriedly lifted the wooden barricade.
No matter that this was Ye's stronghold, dominating the mountains and wilds of the Eastern Continent—Balteran was their seventh-in-command, a high-ranking officer.
There had to be a good reason for him to come barreling in like that.
Their guess proved spot on. Balteran didn't even pause to thank them for opening the way before bolting straight into one of the caves forming the basin.
"Ugh, what a dust cloud... Anyway, what's the big deal? Lord Balteran's face looked seriously pissed."
One of the bandits, brushing off the dirt kicked up by Balteran's footsteps, muttered to himself.
"Isn't it obvious?"
Another bandit slowly lowered the barricade and chimed in.
"Has to be Lord Talor stirring up trouble again. He's always the one who gets under Balteran's skin, right?"
The speculation bordered on slander against Talor, who outranked Balteran, but...
"...Ah."
"Yeah. Lord Talor was there, wasn't he?"
Not a single bandit present disagreed with the guess.
Was it the seasoned instinct born of experience?
The sentries' prediction was spot on.
"Brother Talor!!"
Balteran's roar, brimming with rage, echoed thunderously through the cave depths.
"Ow, that stings! Hiss... Damn, I nicked it. What the hell did that little shit eat to swing like that? My ears are ringing, you bastard!"
Talor, who had been leisurely wiping his curved blade with a cloth, startled and slightly cut his finger. He grumbled irritably at the charging Balteran.
"It's not like you chopped your damn ugly finger off—what's the big deal! Do you have a brain or not?!"
"Hey, did you eat something bad? Barging in here yelling like that—what's your problem?!"
Talor rolled up his decorative eyepatch and glared with both eyes, but Balteran didn't budge an inch.
"Brother, that paper I gave you with the route to meet the big boss for Ian Lichtenauer... You did deliver it properly, right?"
"I told you I did! I personally handed it to that mummy-wrapped freak, made sure he got it..."
"Then!!"
Balteran cut Talor off with a frantic shout.
"Why the hell are those baby viper bastards heading to intercept Ian Lichtenauer's path?!"
Talor flinched at the outburst, then belatedly scratched his head and rolled his eyes.
"Uh... Did my hand slip midway? Maybe I dropped it somewhere..."
"Who do you think you're fooling?!"
Balteran wasn't one to buy Talor's feigned ignorance so easily.
The baby vipers.
Unlike the established Ye members, they were a faction blindly following the newcomers who sought no change from Ye's current position.
Like viper young slitting their nurturing mother's belly to emerge, these vipers sought to corrupt and twist the will of the 'Ye' that had empowered them.
That's why they were called baby vipers for following them.
"Things are already tense with the vipers lately—if we clash with those young hotheads, it won't end pretty! Why complicate an already messy situation, huh?!"
"Hey, hold on... Balteran! Keep flattering me like that, and you'll climb all over your big brother?"
"So what if I do! Without me planning your routes, what do you think you and your assault team could accomplish alone?!"
"You little punk, seriously?!"
As the mood between them grew hostile, Lien, who had been sitting quietly, spoke up.
"I permitted it, Balteran."
"...?!"
"Letting the baby vipers go... That was my call."
"What? Why, Big Brother?!"
Even Lien siding with Talor deflated Balteran somewhat.
But still unconvinced, he grumbled petulantly.
"After taking down Karunas, Ian Lichtenauer's skills are a given. And his backing's solid too—plenty worthy as an heir! You were looking forward to it yourself, Big Brother. At least talk to him...!!"
"Seems you've misunderstood, Balteran. I'm not refusing to acknowledge him. Quite the opposite—it's to pave the way for dialogue."
"...Pardon?"
Thwack!
"Tsk tsk tsk... Honestly, Balteran. You're so damn clever for nothing."
Balteran blinked in confusion, unable to grasp Lien's intent. Talor, now cooled off, slung his arm over Balteran's shoulder and clicked his tongue.
"...Get that off me first."
"So picky. Listen up. Like you said, the baby vipers and all those young punks with different ideas are swarming, right? So you told Ian Lichtenauer—if he clings too desperately, Ye might split."
"......"
It was true, so Balteran heard out Talor's sly explanation.
"Seeing is believing, as they say. So let's let those clueless idiots—shit or not—feel it for themselves. That the guy we're trying to ally with isn't some brainless fool. That we're pushing this not to ruin Ye, but to lead it to brighter days."
"...!!"
Balteran turned to Lien, who slowly nodded in agreement.
Confirming Balteran's silence, Talor donned his eyepatch and flashed a toothy grin.
"Nothing drives it home like a good beating, right?"
Talor remembered.
During the fierce battle with Karunas, Ian had unleashed killing blows without hesitation toward Tarik and Karunas alike.
In other words, the baby vipers heading to greet Ian's group would get thoroughly thrashed by him too.
'Well, if he's got any sense, he won't kill 'em. Still... you're gonna spin like tops, you little snakes.'
Having given Ye's leadership endless headaches, Talor hoped Ian would give them a solid thrashing.
Two swords—one white, one black—dominated the surroundings.
Or could they even be called 'swords'?
"Monster bastard...!!"
Muchai, the leader who had brought the baby vipers, gritted his teeth.
He already knew Ian wielded whip-like swords.
That's why Muchai figured they had a solid chance.
The White Heron Mountains brimmed with such abundant natural energy it practically boiled over.
Trees were tough enough to resist axe blades, rocks rivaled fine steel in hardness.
Normal weapons would catch on branches or dull against stones on impact.
Yet.
Chiriririririt!
Those two swords slithered through space like living serpents, utterly unimpeded by trees or rocks.
No—even if they clashed, it didn't matter.
Zzauuuuw!
The red aura pouring from those blades pulverized anything they touched without a trace.
"Damn it all!!"
Muchai spat a curse.
Who were they, after all?
Ye's promising bandits, the kind that could hush a crying child.
Yet Ian toyed with these baby vipers like playthings.
"That all you got?"
With such meager skill.
"You strut around like you own the world on this pathetic level?"
Muchai's face flushed at Ian's mockery.
"Shut your trap, you little shit!!"
Kwaeaeak!
Muchai's cleaver hurtled viciously toward Ian.
Crude yet concise and practical—a battle style favored by Northern Continent grassland warriors: Grass Horse Combat Sword.
Quick to learn, easy to use, yet far surpassing ordinary soldiers' prowess... A hallmark of Alexandros military arts.
But.
"Sloppy."
Clang, clang!
Ian reverted the Twin-Headed Blood Serpents to their original form and mercilessly shredded Muchai's cleaver.
Chwajajajak!
"...!!"
Muchai's eyes bulged.
Metal on metal should have clashed—why did his cleaver slice like tofu?
And it wasn't ordinary steel.
Even being dubbed a 'baby' viper proved Muchai's skill; his cleaver brimmed with aura.
Yet that aura offered no resistance to the devastating power.
...Crunch!
'As expected, Boss Lien wouldn't parley with just anyone...!!'
So what?
Muchai and countless Ye bandits preferred things as they were.
They had fled starvation and rags, risking life to join Ye.
And more—they endured grueling training to earn recognition as full combatants, desperately honing their martial arts.
Now, finally wielding that power freely.
All that suffering wasn't to crawl under some latecomer who never showed his face during their trials...!!
"Muchai!!"
Spotting Muchai's cleaved weapon, a baby viper tossed him their cleaver.
Spotting the crisis in that brief moment was timely judgment.
Ian watched without intervening.
Unaware or not of Ian's thoughts, Muchai snatched the cleaver midair and unleashed Grass Horse Combat Sword at full power.
"Dieee!!"
Kwaauk!
The force-laden cleaver plummeted toward Ian's head with a air-splitting roar.
A strike worthy of a mid-tier Lichtenauer striker.
For a young bandit in his prime to pull it off proved Muchai's talent was worth Ye's recruitment.
However.
"Light."
The same Grass Horse Combat Sword, but worlds apart from the Northern Alexandros soldiers' execution.
Their strikes lacked... pride.
Ian could accept their rejection.
From their view, he was just a rolling stone.
But their blades showed no gratitude to the Northern leaders who bestowed grace upon Ye—no drive to advance it further.
Only selfish ambition for personal glory.
Since returning to the past, Ian recognized he'd softened compared to his previous life.
Blended with the original owner's temperament, perhaps—who knew.
He acknowledged it.
But at least... he wasn't so thick-skinned as to watch his old subordinates—those who toiled over 20 years on another continent—endure such treatment with open eyes.
'I'll fix it. That rotten mindset of yours.'
He'd uproot this frog-forgetting-tadpole mentality at the root.
Kwajajajak!
Ian's merciless sword strikes poured toward Muchai as he swung his cleaver.