Chapter 64
Chapter 64
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 64
Chapter Title: Freyja's Dream
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After getting beaten half to death by Havel, Pyod knelt before him.
Havel paced around him slowly, hands clasped behind his back, his sheathed sword at his waist.
"Pyod, was it?"
"Ugh, ugh... Yeah."
Pyod, who refused to show even a hint of respect even on the brink of death, answered with a rotten expression.
"Lighten up that face."
But his body remembered the violence all too well, and soon enough, he forced a beaming smile.
Seeing that made Havel think of Gaiod, and he clicked his tongue in irritation for no real reason.
If Gaiod saw this guy, he'd probably crawl into a rat hole and hide.
What to do with this one.
Havel pondered.
He owed Pyod something, so at the very least, he had to straighten things out.
People don't change easily—not with the lives they've lived.
Feels like looking at a friend's nephew, so I can't just let him go scot-free.
He figured he'd ask a few questions before deciding.
"What's your dream?"
He asked it like a family elder questioning a grandchild during the holidays.
Pyod blinked at the question.
"...World conquest?"
An idiot.
Havel rubbed his forehead with his hand.
Arthur in a similar situation had grown up so nicely.
Why was this one such a mess?
Havel thought it over deeply, then realized there was one thing he hadn't asked.
"Pyod, what happened to the Freyja Clan?"
He'd never even inquired about the Freyja Clan before.
"Our tribe?"
Pyod scratched his head.
"After Freyja Mountain got wrecked by a volcanic eruption, everyone scattered. No idea where they ended up."
Havel fell silent at those words.
He'd never paid much attention to the Freyja themselves.
So he knew nothing about Freyja Mountain either.
To think something like that had happened in the last century.
"How'd you survive all this time?"
"Just survived. Had strength, so I used it where it was useful."
Havel could easily imagine the harsh reality for a tribe that had lost its home.
They'd been driven into the cities with nothing to their names.
To survive, the Freyja Clan must have turned their hands to all sorts of things.
And the most efficient way was probably leveraging their innate physical prowess.
They'd never been exposed to the city's underbelly before.
Havel could plainly see how that strength would be exploited in the urban sprawl.
But there was no other path for the Freyja Clan.
They needed money to live, after all.
In that process, whatever ideals the Freyja once held would have faded away.
And now, Pyod's life had led him to become the head of a bandit crew.
The rest of the Freyja probably hadn't fared much better.
But if the Banpellyon name had remained intact...
They never would have ended up like this.
Havel never forgot his debts.
"What was the point of all that money you made?"
Even accounting for all that, the pillaging had been excessive.
Pyod averted his eyes at Havel's question.
He'd said his dream was world conquest earlier.
But Havel could tell there was another goal he was hiding.
The guy just didn't want to say it himself.
"...I want to restore Freyja Mountain."
Freyja Mountain, turned into an irreparable wasteland by the eruption.
Nature would reclaim it eventually, but that would take ages.
Only humans could speed it up.
So Pyod had built up Greenroad to scrape together the funds.
"If you got a chance at a new life, could you live it right?"
Pyod blinked at the question, clearly not grasping the intent.
But Havel's earnest gaze told him it was sincere.
A man with such overwhelming power.
A man even Pyod, born with the Freyja physique, couldn't touch.
Pyod's eyes wavered.
A faint "what if" stirred in the corner of his mind.
For some reason, it felt connected to his great-grandfather.
Plus, Havel was scary, but not in the usual way.
It reminded him of the scoldings from his late grandfather when he'd messed up.
Pyod knew Havel wasn't toying with him.
So his own face took on a touch of honesty.
"I like my life now."
As Greenroad's boss, he enjoyed everything that came with it.
There were regrets and lacks, but no real shortages.
Still, he had his own dream.
The Freyja homeland from his mother's childhood tales.
He wanted to see it restored.
"But."
He dusted off his rear and stood.
"Restoring Freyja Mountain to how it was—that's the truth."
He didn't know Havel's angle.
But baring his soul wasn't hard.
Most of Greenroad were from around Freyja Mountain anyway.
They'd gathered for their own reasons to rebuild their home.
Sure, Pyod was the only true Freyja among them.
But they all shared that sentiment.
"Simple, then."
Havel spoke like he was revealing the answer.
"Climb the Tower."
Pyod stared blankly at Havel for a moment.
Then he let out a hollow laugh.
"Don't try to sound cool quoting what everyone's heard a million times."
Climb the Tower, gain honor and wealth.
Everyone knew that.
But no one pulled it off easily.
"I'll climb it. So in the next three days..."
Havel pointed to the Golden Crow he'd bagged.
"Disband Greenroad and come back. I'll get you at least to the 7th tier."
To repay Gaiod's debt, Havel made the offer to Pyod.
Of course, if he refused, Havel was done helping.
Last chance, plain and simple.
Pyod stared at Havel, then clicked his tongue and turned away.
"Wait if you want. Don't if you don't."
What a prickly bastard.
"What about you?"
Havel turned to Balop, who was standing off at a distance.
Balop scratched the back of his head.
"I'm already set to follow you, Lord Havel."
As he'd said, he had to stick with Havel for the intel alone.
That had been the plan from the start.
"Having a mage around isn't bad, right?"
He beamed subtly, proud of his help today.
"And my big bro—he's not as romance-less as you think."
He puffed out his chest confidently.
"He'll come. No one wanted to climb the Tower and save our home more than him."
"While looting and pillaging, sure."
"Ahem, well, we looted, but we didn't kill unless they fought back hard. We always let 'em go after stripping 'em clean."
"You knew outright murder would make you prime targets for extermination."
Balop had nothing to say to that and slyly avoided Havel's eyes.
Committed crimes don't vanish.
But Havel wasn't some god dividing good from evil.
What I'm doing is settling a debt.
He wasn't about to champion the looted victims.
Someday.
Pyod would face consequences for the people he'd robbed.
What you sow comes back like a boomerang.
Pyod didn't know that yet.
So he'd been hurling them wildly.
And only then would he realize.
I shouldn't have done that.
No need for me to worry that far.
So Havel plopped down in front of the Golden Crow.
He'd just instill a bit of responsibility to handle it.
Three days from now.
That was how long Havel decided to wait for him—short and sweet.
Surprisingly, Pyod showed up sooner than expected.
Two days later, in the morning, he returned.
Under the bright sunlight.
He trudged over with a light backpack slung over his shoulder.
"Big bro!"
Balop welcomed him, and Pyod glanced at Havel.
"I sorted out Greenroad and sent the rest packing downward."
They were all climbers who'd made it to the 7th tier.
Even without Pyod, they had skills enough to get by.
They could earn a living down at the Tower's base.
"You serious about what you said?"
About climbing the Tower. About following him.
No lies there?
Havel picked up the Golden Crow.
"Whether you follow is up to you. I'll just keep walking ahead."
But having a leader to chase made all the difference.
Pyod knew that better than most and clicked his tongue.
"Man, life's full of Tower-climbing weirdos lately."
Even so, he fell in step beside Havel.
Looked like his desire to reclaim his home was genuine.
"What've you heard about Gaiod?"
"Great-grandpa? Just that he was the strongest warrior even back in the Unified Empire Arhan days. Nothing major."
"Good intel."
Havel nodded.
"That's everything."
The sum total of what defined Gaiod.
Pyod looked puzzled at Havel.
Just like last time.
"What the hell's your deal with our great-grandpa? You don't even look much older than me."
He couldn't wrap his head around it.
As Pyod spoke, Havel hoisted the Golden Crow onto his back.
"Friends."
"Friends? How old are you, anyway?"
"Over a hundred."
Pyod blinked vacantly.
Then he sighed.
"Tease moderately, even if you're strong."
"Haha, Lord Havel, they'd believe anything you say."
Neither Pyod nor Balop bought it.
Damn, even the truth gets this reaction.
Well, Havel wouldn't have believed it either if he'd just heard it.
Though guys like me aren't totally nonexistent.
That Baomet, the hand collector from Beltaron, had been alive not long ago.
Though Havel had left him half-dead.
Havel walked on, wondering when he could finally live his apparent age.
His destination was the altar holding the Golden Crow.
The altar sat at the end of an endless staircase.
The stairs stretched in every direction, dizzyingly high at a glance.
But the real problem wasn't the stairs.
It was the climbers camped out there.
They wanted the 72nd floor.
So whenever someone opened the door to the next floor via the altar...
They'd swoop in like fishermen catching a stray catch.
No climber had spotted this Golden Crow.
So they were just hunkered down at the altar stairs, waiting blindly.
Whoever hunted it would have to bring it here eventually.
"Should I blast 'em all away?"
Balop looked pretty confident.
Havel, watching him, suddenly started light stretches.
Balop eyed him curiously, but Havel finished warming up in no time.
Then, hoisting the man-sized Golden Crow, he said,
"Grab each other."
"Huh?"
As Balop blinked in confusion, Havel crouched into a leaping stance.
"No need to climb the damn stairs one by one."
The two finally got it and exchanged looks.
For once, their eyes mirrored the exact same thought.
Did we grab the wrong rope here?