Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Mad Dog at the Gates
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A few rural fiefdoms passed by.
They were no different from Chichiron—pure countryside holdings—and they stopped only briefly to resupply food.
The old empire had fallen, leaving the continent in turmoil.
Travel between fiefdoms could hardly be called brisk, even in the best light. Each one barely managed self-sufficiency, scraping by day to day.
Soaring prices had drained even the gold coins Sein had brought.
This phenomenon only worsened the farther out one went to the frontiers.
“If you wish, we could exchange the Dark Hop Goblin’s corpse for gold coins.”
Arin made the suggestion.
“Why bother?”
Sein replied.
Even in the most rural, insignificant fiefdoms, rotten elements existed.
Sein was a cockroach who had survived amid such filth.
“Nice to meet you. We’ve heard you’re the Mad Dog of Chichiron. We need travel funds, so hand over everything—or we’ll send you off comfortably in this harsh world!”
“Fuck! What the hell are you saying!”
“What else? Hand it all over and scram.”
Travel funds that had seemed to dwindle suddenly swelled again.
No matter how thoroughly they hid their gold coins.
“Boss. Found it.”
“No! That’s for our son’s treatment!”
“You expect me to believe a guy like you is married with a kid?”
Sein and Derun stripped them clean, without mercy.
Unstoppable, lightning-fast progress!
“Reckless stunts like that won’t fly from here on out.”
Arin, who had only watched until now, warned Sein.
“Hmm. That last town rubbed me the wrong way anyway.”
It was less a village and more a small city in size.
As expected, the back-alley trash there was on another level.
Well, even so...
“Thanks to them, our gold’s plentiful now, right?”
They were just back-alley trash.
He’d looted more gold from one town than Chichiron had amassed in a lifetime.
“Looks like I’ve got a knack for banditry.”
“You’re just realizing that now?”
“I’ve learned there are geniuses at banditry too.”
“Tch.”
But Sein knew it too.
‘Yeah, things get real from here.’
Just as Arin said.
A massive city wall loomed closer.
For Sein—no, Sein Demorus—it was a grand wall of a scale he’d never seen.
Incomparable to mere villages or even small cities.
“Borfeo County.”
This was the look of a true city.
The barrier enveloping the fiefdom was so potent it was visible to the naked eye.
“I recommend you don’t go wild from here on.”
Another warning.
“Borfeo has a proper master, after all.”
“I know, I know.”
Sein strode ahead.
“You’re not a Demorus yet.”
Sein paused at Arin’s words.
“You’re just a candidate heir. Nothing more. Remember that you can’t wield the power of the Demorus name without permission.”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it.”
Rumors that had reached even remote Chichiron.
Facts confirmed on the journey here, truths learned from Arin.
“Our great seed-sower sowed so many seeds that guys like me mean nothing yet.”
Didn’t they say Demorus had over a hundred children?
“Impressive. Truly impressive.”
Chatting idly like that, Sein’s group soon arrived at the city gates.
Seeing gates of this scale was a first in this life.
But.
Step.
For Sein, the scene was all too familiar.
Guards blocked their path in an instant.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Guys trying to pass through the gates.”
The guards scowled at Sein’s words.
“Got a permit?”
As expected of a city.
Unlike the villages they could come and go from freely.
Ting!
Sein flicked a gold coin their way.
“My permit.”
Just like in the small city, he tried using gold as his permit.
Thud.
The coin Sein flicked clattered carelessly to the ground.
“Insolent bastard.”
“Oho. Fancy types, eh?”
“You...”
Step.
The guards leveled their spears at Sein.
“Scram. Before we kill you.”
The growling guards showed no sign of yielding.
Not out of any grand sense of justice.
Even now, spears trained on Sein, their eyes flicked to the gold on the ground.
Fancy types, literally.
“Two more gold coins?”
But their gaze, unmoved by Sein’s offer, turned to Arin.
“Ha.”
Now he saw their true aim.
Arin was a rare beauty.
With a beauty like that in front of them, gold wouldn’t catch their eye.
“Got some guts.”
“That’s my line. What makes you so cocky with Borfeo guards in your face?”
They were clearly seasoned pros.
“Touch that woman and you die. Not by me—by her.”
“...?”
“If money won’t work, no choice.”
What a waste of coin, though.
Clang!
The longsword from that one village they’d passed swung out, batting away the guards’ spears.
“I’m the Mad Dog of Chichiron, Sein...”
A grin.
“Sein Demorus. Open the gates, you little shits.”
“...!”
*
*
*
“You’ll regret this.”
Arin said.
“I told you, you haven’t been granted the Demorus name yet. Using it without permission will cost you dearly.”
“Hey, come on.”
Sein shrugged it off.
“All he did was spread seed. Can’t I borrow his name for a castle or two?”
“...Do as you like.”
Sein nodded at Arin’s words.
“I will.”
The orthodox path was clear.
Hide himself, quietly build strength, slowly earn recognition.
But.
‘Too late for that.’
Sein smiled, but his eyes were ice cold.
‘If the life given to me is as heir to the underworld...’
The moment his life was set, Sein had resolved.
‘I’ll reveal myself and claim recognition.’
Not some empty bravado.
Foolhardy, perhaps—but far from reckless.
Thump.
He had the means and the plan to handle it.
No, this was essential for Sein Demorus to survive.
“Arin.”
“...Speak.”
“Threats don’t come when you want them.”
Hardships and trials couldn’t be sought out and overcome at will.
“They come at the shittiest moments.”
You prepared in advance to overcome them.
To grow stronger.
To survive.
Step.
He’d have to keep plowing through whatever moderate trials came his way.
“Luck and hardship both hit all at once, and it’s chaos.”
A familiar sight.
The street had gone silent.
Not a soul in sight, not even a shadow.
“Quite the welcome party.”
“You the Mad Dog of Chichiron?”
A group blocked Sein’s path.
*
*
*
“You the Mad Dog of Chichiron?”
“You know me?”
He asked, but he’d already pieced it together.
Word of the gate incident must have spread through the city already.
‘I’d heard the whole continent was rotten.’
With the New Empire’s rise, the underworld had become mainstream.
Their power so overwhelming that the world outside was shrouded in darkness, inside in pitch black, or so he’d heard.
But even so, this was too much.
The gate scuffle hadn’t even reached the lord yet, and it was already buzzing in the back alleys.
“Just using your name to blow open Borfeo’s gates—if they didn’t know, they wouldn’t qualify to survive the alleys.”
“Then you’ve heard.”
Sein’s voice was relaxed.
“My name too.”
“Sein Demorus.”
Demorus.
The group blocking him flinched at the name.
A castle that inspired fear even in the frontiers.
In a major city like this.
“...”
Its effect was naturally greater.
“The real Demorus?”
“Who’d be crazy enough to impersonate Demorus?”
“Fair point.”
In the underworld, the power of a name and surname was immense.
Greater even than the empire’s order.
“But you’re just a candidate, right? No word on the heir being decided.”
“...”
“Arrogant? Or brave?”
Swish.
The group blocking Sein began advancing slowly.
Thud.
Derun gripped his longsword’s hilt, while Arin crossed her arms, utterly disinterested.
Sein.
“Talkative bunch.”
Stood still, merely eyeing the one-eyed thug.
“So, wanna throw down?”
Twenty in number.
But incomparable to the third-rate trash from Chichiron.
Their refined aura and movements proved they were survivors of real battles.
‘Mercenaries, maybe?’
Not that freak outlier—regular ones.
“Not a bad idea. In the alleys, that’s the quickest way to talk.”
His underlings halted.
Only the one-eyed stepped forward.
The cyclops was now right in his face.
Close enough that their weapons would touch if drawn.
Whoosh!
But what the cyclops drew wasn’t a sword—it was his hand.
“Name’s Cyclops. Not much, but I run one of Borfeo’s back-alley districts.”
A handshake.
“Welcome to Borfeo, Mad Dog.”
With a smile full of goodwill, the cyclops offered his hand to Sein.
Clang!
“Oh, tried to slice my wrist clean off—impressive.”
Sparks flew on clash.
From Sein’s swung dagger meeting the cyclops’ suddenly drawn sword.
“Shoving your filthy trotter at me?”
“...You don’t know a friendly gesture when you see one.”
The cyclops and Sein leaped back, creating distance.
“There’s one key thing in back-alley fights.”
The cyclops said.
“Pretext.”
As vital to alley rats as to nobles.
“I offered you goodwill, but you repaid it with steel. That’s my pretext. What’s yours?”
A fight by the rules.
Sein twisted his lips into a grin.
“Don’t have one.”
“...What?”
“Oh, wait. I do.”
His eyes turned fierce.
“You blocked my path.”
Claaang!
Another massive burst of sparks.
“As expected of the Mad Dog.”
“Sufficient?”
Swords locked, they grinned over the blades.
“No. Perfect.”
Borfeo’s first battle unfolded.
Right in the city’s heart, yet no guards intervened.
This was a fight in the shadows draping the city.
And soon after.
“I surrender.”
On his knees, the cyclops apologized to Sein.