Chapter 39
Chapter 39
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 39
Chapter Title: Royal Capital Fairsheta
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Shredding Gale.
A sharp, icy wind blowing from the north.
Gerd Kan's mana breathing was as razor-edged as its name.
"Watch closely."
This wasn't mere inhalation of air.
It was the process of selectively drawing in only the coldest mana into the body.
Shhhhh...
The surrounding air froze in an instant.
An overwhelming chill, as if standing at the heart of a blizzard.
"Huuuuu..."
Ice-cold breath escaped Gerd's mouth.
As if breathing in the dead center of the north, even though it wasn't winter.
"This is Shredding Gale mana breathing."
Gerd slowly opened his eyes.
He had shown it once.
But honestly, he didn't expect much.
'...Will it work?'
This breathing technique was one he himself had created.
'I've tried teaching it to countless people, but they all failed.'
Not just promising knights.
Even children with innate sensitivity.
No one could withstand the Shredding Gale's energy.
It required something beyond mere talent.
This time, it was just a faint hope.
"Give it a try."
A calm voice.
Damian nodded.
He closed his eyes and recalled Gerd's breathing.
'It's sharp.'
Different from the "Primal Breathing" he'd acquired through Gluttony.
Not wild explosiveness, but refined sharpness like a honed blade.
"Huuuup...!"
Damian drew in a deep breath.
At the same time, the abilities he'd built up awakened.
'Focus on sensation, not form.'
Not simple concentration.
The task of picking out only the unusually cold energy.
'It's like...'
Similar to finding the core power source amid tangled traps.
"Huuuuu..."
The selected chill burrowed deep into his lungs.
Immediately, rejection surged.
'Clashing, as expected.'
The wildness of Primal mana breathing tangled with Shredding Gale's sharpness inside him.
A twisting dissonance from clashing natures.
'I'll overcome it.'
Normally, one would quit here.
Or collapse with internal injuries.
But Damian was different.
'This side's wilder by far.'
He'd already internalized the troll berserker's savage breath.
The beastly breath forcing its way through veins.
He had experience taming that power.
'I can handle this.'
Moments later.
Damian subdued the chaos within.
And astonishingly.
Shhhhh...
A faint chill settled around him.
Subtle, but unmistakable Shredding Gale energy.
"...!"
Gerd reacted to the sight.
Even he couldn't hide his emotions this time.
A crack appeared for the first time on his ever-stoic face.
'How...?'
Utter disbelief.
Probably the first time he'd been this shocked since meeting Damian.
"Is this... actually happening right now?"
Damian asked cautiously.
"Try again."
Gerd forced composure.
But repeats yielded the same.
Damian clearly drew forth Shredding Gale mana.
'What in the world...'
Of course, this was just the basics.
Cold breaths alone didn't suffice.
Some knights had reached this stage.
'Though it took them years of practice.'
Not a stage for relief.
Advanced circulation remained.
"...Well done. On to the next step."
This was the real start.
Circulating the ingested Shredding Gale energy through the body.
"Haaaa..."
The instruction mirrored the first.
Gerd demonstrated; Damian followed the flow.
"Draw the Shredding Gale energy deeper."
Limits were clear, naturally.
Flow broke midway; energy scattered.
First time learning this breath—expected.
'Yet he follows clearly.'
Gerd's heart raced.
'Perhaps...'
He could forge him.
The disciple he'd once desperately wanted.
Ideally within a year—faster if possible.
"..."
Hope blossomed.
Of course, he didn't show it.
He'd already revealed too much emotion.
"...It looks tough."
Gerd Kan, emotions settled.
He spoke to Damian.
"I thought it'd come easily, but it's harder than expected."
Damian panted heavily in reply.
Unaware of what he'd just achieved.
"Good. That's enough for today."
No training drained stamina like repeated mana breathing.
Gerd, knowing this best, stopped here.
"Rest. I'll guide you for the time being."
With those words.
Gerd left first.
But Damian had no intention of resting yet.
'A short break, and I'll recover quick.'
Among Gluttony's gains, the most standout improvement.
Overwhelming stamina and recovery speed.
'A few more hours are fine.'
Alone now, Damian kept practicing.
Chilling the air relentlessly.
He needed to familiarize with this sensation first.
'Repeat. Until it's no different from normal breathing.'
Just the learned part.
Master that much.
Then to the next.
"Suuuup! Huuuu..."
Not just recovery and endurance.
And the will to achieve.
Damian was no longer that farmer.
Nor the two-month conscript.
Only a predator pursuing strength.
'Learning directly isn't bad either.'
A different flavor from Gluttony growth.
Damian savored it.
Unaware night had passed.
"Cough!"
Meanwhile.
Gerd Kan returned to his quarters.
He let out the cough he'd been holding.
"Haa..."
Then drank a blue potion from the table.
Soon, coughing stopped; his complexion revived.
"The dosage keeps increasing."
A voice at that moment.
He'd known before entering.
Someone was in the room.
"...Your Highness."
Prince Bastian.
"Don't push too hard. What if it worsens?"
"I'm fine. They say timely doses keep me at peak for a while."
"That's not the point... Haa, then you should ration that 'while' even more."
Bastian's worry and regret.
Yet Gerd shook his head.
"While I can still move as the kingdom's top knight, I must accomplish as much as possible."
Unyielding stubbornness.
Or firm resolve.
The prince sighed deeply.
"I shouldn't have told you that."
"That the kingdom's fate hangs like a candle in the wind?"
"Forget I said it. Just personal worry..."
Regretful prince.
Gerd spoke.
"It wasn't personal at all. You brought what the kingdom hushed up into open discussion."
Monster waves surging from all sides.
To incomprehensible异族 corruption.
The prince had elevated ignored issues to royal and court agendas.
"I follow because I agree with Your Highness."
"Grateful, but still—don't overdo it."
Prince Bastian rose.
As he headed to the door, he added.
"What if a cure comes when it's too late to use it?"
Gerd just smiled.
He knew better than anyone it was impossible.
"Oh, right—how's that friend?"
Easy to grasp.
Damian Winter, whom he'd just instructed.
Asking Gerd's evaluation.
"I've never seen you teach anyone so diligently, Sir Gerd."
Not wrong.
No talent, no teaching.
And his bar for talent was high.
"...Can't be certain yet."
Gerd had to concede.
"However."
Gazing out the window, he murmured.
"It feels like discovering a fine gemstone."
A fine gemstone.
Bastian was slightly shocked.
First time hearing such from Gerd.
About two weeks later.
Clack, clack, clack...
A long, arduous journey.
And finally.
"There it is."
Prince Bastian spoke.
His gaze fixed on distant walls.
"The royal capital, Fairsheta."
Fairsheta.
At that name.
"...!"
Damian's eyes widened.
Overwhelming even from afar.
'That's... a city?'
Beyond common sense.
Incomparable to any he'd seen.
Free city Melrn? Sobkov Territory?
All felt like villages.
'Impregnable fortress.'
The word surfaced naturally.
Could even a giant breach those massive walls?
"...Wow."
Entering the city.
Damian exclaimed again.
Not for scale this time.
'People.'
The streets teeming with masses.
First time seeing so many.
"His Highness the Prince arrives!"
Guard captain's shout echoed.
The crowd parted left and right.
'This is the royal capital.'
Noise everywhere.
Voices, carriage wheels.
Merchants hawking.
'The whole city feels like a living beast.'
All new, complex, immense.
Overwhelm different from great forest's nature.
Human civilization's majesty.
"Sir Damian."
The prince addressed him then.
Sobkov knights, now the prince.
Kept calling him Sir Damian.
Refusals futile.
"First time in the capital?"
"Yes, Your Highness. Beyond what I'd heard."
"Haha, it is. The kingdom's heart."
The prince smiled satisfied.
Pride in his eyes.
"If you wish, I'll assign a guide. Enjoy your stay—it'll be memorable."
Generous offer.
And more.
"As a mercenary, you'll receive proper compensation."
"Compensation?"
"Call it interim settlement. You'll need coin to enjoy the city."
Damian nodded.
"Thank you, Your Highness."
But one question lingered.
'During my stay?'
Meaning not leaving immediately.
At least a few days.
"May I ask something?"
"Of course."
"When do we head back to Sobkov Territory?"
King's final approval, extra support—then return.
Not one or two days, but sooner better.
"It'll take some time."
Fatigue tinged the prince's voice.
"Procedures, and quite a few opposers."
"Opposition?"
Damian asked incredulously.
Kingdom's survival at stake?
Yet opposition?
Why?
"Many still don't know. How the world's changing."
Prince's gaze on ornate buildings.
"Nobles hoping individuals, specific houses, territories handle monster waves and anomalies themselves."
He didn't curse them.
Blamed lifelong central nobility bubble.
But couldn't shake ignorance, selfishness.
"Changes in the eastern great forest? Beneath their notice."
Damian's face hardened.
Those risking lives in Sobkov Territory.
Their sacrifices upholding this peace—unknown?
'This is power, politics?'
Damian didn't know.
Complex power struggles.
But one thing certain.
'Draggers everywhere.'
Perhaps due to his darkened expression.
"No need to worry."
The prince smiled again.
"Won't take long. I'll make sure."
Voice full of resolve.
"We're here."
Mid-conversation.
They'd arrived at the palace.
'This is... the royal palace.'
Heart of capital Fairsheta.
The king's residence.
'Another wall.'
Different from city's outer.
Taller, sturdier white inner walls.
Palace within.
"His Highness returns!"
Palace guards saluted in unison.
Ornately gilded golden armor, blue cloaks.
Splendor symbolizing royal authority.
"You've all worked hard."
As the prince briefly encouraged them.
"Prince Highness!"
Someone rushed out from the palace.
A junior official in neat robes.
"You've arrived!"
Anxiety filled his face.
Sweating, panting.
"What is it?"
The prince asked puzzled.
"His Majesty awaits."
"...His Majesty?"
"He demands immediate report. You must be tired, but to the audience chamber first."
No moment's respite.
The prince nodded.
"Understood. Let's go."
Prince and knights followed the official.
'I'll slip away here.'
Damian quietly stepped back.
Just a mercenary.
"Then I'll wait outside..."
As he began.
"Why?"
The prince turned.
"I'm just a mercenary for now..."
"Sir Damian must come too."
"...Pardon?"
Damian flustered.
Together? Where?
To the king?
"You're the one who can describe Sobkov's situation most vividly among us."
Prince's tone serious.
"Didn't you go deep into the great forest with the suicide squad?"
"True, but..."
"We need your experience now."
"..."
"Tell His Majesty of that heroic tale."
"..."
"I'll repay this favor."
Meeting the king was daunting.
But a direct promise of reward from the prince.
'Tempting.'