Chapter 121
Chapter 121
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 121
Chapter Title: Sword King Returns
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Berddin appeared at the top of the tower, and at that exact moment, everyone lunged to sever his neck.
Dictree, having finished all preparations, was hiding in the stables near the tower with the high-ranking mercenaries he had recruited through the adventurer's guild.
"There is no retreat in this plan. Now that we've come this far, it's either kill him or we die—those are the only two options. Choose your fate yourselves."
Dictree spoke gravely to the mercenaries, their hoods pulled low over their faces.
Three of the mercenaries following him found his near-warning tone amusing and replied with chuckles.
"Don't worry, sir. We don't know how strong the enemy is, but we've got over a decade of battlefield experience ourselves."
"Exactly. Even now, knights in the west tremble at the mere mention of our names."
"Knights? Monsters piss themselves and run at the sight of our faces!"
Moreover, the one who seemed to be their leader pulled out a token from the Legion Colosseum from his pocket.
"All three of us are Gold Class in the Legion Colosseum. We're mercenaries out of necessity now, but until recently, we were escort knights for a renowned noble in the west."
Dictree looked at them with a satisfied expression.
"Your confidence is refreshing."
"Whoever comes out, don't worry about us. By the way, who is the target we need to take down?"
"I can't tell you that yet."
"Why not?"
"If I say his name now, one of you will surely back out right here."
"Come on—no way. Would we, backed by the continent's strongest magical house, Glazer, pull something like that?"
"True. But I've been backstabbed by mercenaries more than once or twice."
One of the mercenaries pondered Dictree's words for a moment before nodding vigorously.
"Understood. Well... we're not the type to run, but if the client thinks so, we'll wait until you reveal the target."
"Thank you."
No sooner had the conversation ended than Dictree's ears perked up. This was the physical reaction that occurred when a mage used telepathy.
"Get ready."
Dictree stood, eyes tense, his face strained.
The mercenaries, who had been crouched in wait, grabbed their weapons and prepared for battle.
There were at least thirty of them, no matter how few.
Creak.
As they opened the door and stepped out—
Shwaaaaa—
A torrential downpour assaulted their ears like mad rain.
"The targets are five in total. Once we reach the destination, kill anyone you see—there won't be anyone else there."
One of the mercenaries asked,
"Where's the destination?"
"Legion Tower. Precisely: three men, two women."
The Gold Class mercenary clutched his stomach and laughed.
"Kahahaha! What, we gathered thirty high-rank mercenaries for just five people?"
"Don't let your guard down. They're strong."
"Yes, yes, of course. That's why the noble Glazer mage called us, right?"
"...Enough idle talk. We're going to eliminate the targets."
I looked up at the sky.
Shwaaaaa—
The downpour was so fierce that even the mild central weather felt cool and refreshing in Legion.
"How about we just push through, even if we get a little wet?"
Cynthia, snapping out of it only after stepping outside the tower, replied with her face flushed red.
"Yeah..."
"Too hard to walk? We can rest if you want."
I glanced at Terezia, asleep on Alfredo's back, and continued.
"No need to rush anyway."
Cynthia shook her head.
"No, better to rest at the castle even if we rest. I don't feel like I can relax here."
"Fair enough. After seeing all that—"
Rox suddenly raised his voice.
"Berddin!"
Where he pointed, a dozen imperial soldiers guarding the tower were frozen solid like icebergs packed along the northern coast.
'Magic?'
I quickly scanned the surroundings and gripped my sword hilt. It was definitely Glazer's 'ice attribute' magic.
'And...'
When I tried to use my energy, it wouldn't release from my body as if controlled.
Not just aura—even mana evaporated when I tried to use it.
Swoosh—
"Anti-magic barrier."
Glazer's mages had set a trap at the tower entrance. Doing this in neutral Legion was tantamount to turning against the Emperor.
'No way?'
Hagen wasn't the type for that.
Bold, yes—but he never created situations where he could lose.
'Or maybe.'
On the flip side, if failure was impossible, he might even betray the Emperor.
Whoosh!
Cloaked figures appeared from somewhere and charged at me. About twenty—no, close to thirty.
Their footwork slicing through the rain suggested at least 4-star knight level.
I drew my sword and leaped into the rain, shouting,
"Everyone stand by! I'll handle them!"
Can't use aura or mana.
Then pure swordsmanship it is.
'Fun.'
Perfect opponents to loosen up this body returned to my Sword King days.
"Uwaaaaa!"
A massive enemy pulled a flail hidden in his robe and swung it overhead.
Whoosh, whoosh, whooooosh!
Rain splattered sideways, blocking vision.
Shwa, shwa, shwaaa!
'Swinging like that against a swordsman?'
Once I gauged direction and speed, vision was irrelevant. At this range, I could fight blindfolded.
As he closed in, the enemy swung the flail at my head.
Whoooosh!
I didn't block—instead stepped forward lightly and swiftly slashed his wrist.
Splat!
"...One down."
The man screamed, blood spurting from the stump.
"Arrrgh!"
"That bastard! Don't attack one by one—charge together!!"
One yelled.
The momentarily hesitant foes regained composure and rushed again. But the skill gap was vast.
I ducked under a frontal sword thrust slicing rain.
Swish—
For the axe swinging at my waist from behind, I slapped its flat with my palm to redirect.
Clang!
The frontal sword pierced the rear foe's chest.
Slash!
"Hurk!"
The redirected axe cleaved the frontal foe's thigh.
Splat!
"Keurk!"
Slow.
Too slow.
These weaklings couldn't even warm me up after ten years honing in Timeless space.
'Not even a proper stretch.'
I sheathed Mistilteinn and drew the short dagger from my waist, addressing the enemies.
"Anyone fleeing now, I won't chase. Charge if you want to die; run if you want to live."
Dictree, watching the mercenaries' battle from afar, swallowed dryly.
'Who is that guy?'
A golden-haired swordsman he'd never seen before.
The youthful figure handled high-rank mercenaries with absurd ease.
His rain-soaked hair and relaxed, amused expression reminded him of someone.
"No way!"
Dictree clenched his fists.
He eyed Berddin's party waiting at the tower entrance, counting them off and murmuring names.
"Rox, Cynthia, Alfredo, Maria."
Then that guy's identity was...
"Damn it! We came all this way for Timeless?"
Dictree ordered the dozen mages with him.
"Retrieve the anti-magic barrier and erase all traces. No one can know we were here."
As he finished, the mages moved in perfect unison.
"Whew—"
Dictree wiped rain from his face and sighed.
'Strong. Too strong.'
He judged they couldn't win with current forces.
'Hold off the duel with Berddin until we join the main force.'
Even if Rothschild handled things quietly, failure meant Glazer bore the cost alone.
"...That level without even using aura."
A flash lit Legion's skies.
Kaboom!
Deafening thunder roared.
A massive silver-furred wolf began moving along the river from central to eastern regions.
The wolf was castle-sized; its steps splashed water drenching nearby trees.
-Awooooooo!
At its howl, hunters emerged from the forest one by one.
At least a thousand strong.
All wore light leather armor, not iron—fit for beasts, not monsters.
"Shall we begin?"
An elder with a beard reaching his belly asked politely. Edward von Glazer, Glazer's eldest son and mage, watched from the hill atop the wolf.
"Begin. This is our golden chance to take down Fenrir."
At his attack order, hunters fired at once toward Fenrir.
Bang! Bang-bang! Bang!
Some shot bullets.
Pew, pew-pew!
Others loosed arrows.
Most fought fearlessly, even against the awe-inspiring monster.
Step, step, step.
Then someone approached Edward from behind. He'd hidden his presence perfectly, or so he thought.
Click!
Mana chains erupted from the ground, binding his ankle.
"Mayer?"
A bald middle-aged man in tattered armor raised his hands above his shoulders.
"Whoops! My mistake. You've got eyes in the back of your head, don't you, Lord Edward?"
"...The item?"
"Got it. Whew, no exaggeration—I nearly died to Valentine bringing this."
Edward smirked.
"Success is what matters. Thanks to you, we can take Fenrir easily."
Seeing Edward's smile, Mayer dangled a ruby-encrusted necklace and grinned.
"Here."
"Should I hold it?"
"Obviously. I can't use mana."
"If you give it to us, you might regret it later?"
"We'll worry then. Put out this fire first."
Edward jumped up, brushed off his rear, and approached the bald man.
The bald middle-aged handed over the necklace with a meaningful smile and a wink.
"Count on you, young mage. Crush the south for us."