Chapter 233

Sacrifice

After successfully bringing Vans and Guts’s group together, I returned to my private room.

As always, I took out the object hidden inside my clothes.

The telephone.

I had buried a relay device in an isolated corner of Sudin Castle, Count Reynold’s territory, before leaving, so communication still worked without much difficulty from Betony City.

“Has anything happened while I’ve been away?”

“Since we divided the forces into four groups and resumed expansion, our territory has been growing quickly, Grand Chief.”

After receiving reports from Krog, Berners, and Doltz, I told them what had happened on my side.

Krog sounded genuinely confused after hearing about Vans.

“I still don’t understand humans. Isn’t it obvious that the strongest one should become the leader?”

From an orc’s perspective, the entire situation probably seemed ridiculous.

“Hmm.”

I thought for a moment.

“Then let me put it this way. Suppose I disappeared. Kaden is stronger than you, so Kaden becomes the leader of the alliance. Would you accept that?”

Kaden, our half-ogre.

He was incredibly strong and excellent in battle.

Thinking was another matter entirely.

Imagining him leading the entire alliance merely because he was physically stronger was enough to make me picture hell on Earth.

Which meant the orc custom of simply allowing the strongest warrior to lead was not necessarily a good system either.

Being strong and possessing the qualities needed to govern were completely separate matters.

“If Brother Kaden is stronger, then there’s nothing to be done.”

Krog answered without hesitation.

“I would simply become stronger myself and defeat him. I still cannot understand the cowardly way humans handle these matters.”

...

That was an incredibly orc-like answer.

Krog had become much more flexible after spending years around me, but he had certainly not abandoned his fundamental nature.

“Krahahaha! Fair enough.”

Strangely, hearing his answer put me in a good mood.

There had been times when the orcs’ refusal to consider anything except a direct confrontation had frustrated me.

Now I found that simplicity less irritating than before.

“Still, this is how humans live.”

My tone became serious.

“We do not need to behave the same way. But we do need to remember that our opponents might.”

Someday, the alliance would inevitably have to coexist with humans.

My entire reason for leaving the Grimwood Mountains was to prepare for that day.

At the very least, the alliance’s senior leaders needed to become familiar with how humans thought.

We did not need to use every dirty tactic ourselves.

But we absolutely needed to understand that others might.

“Think about it carefully. I’ll contact you again tomorrow.”

“Understood, Grand Chief.”

With that, I ended the call, leaving the alliance’s advisers with a little homework.

The next day, we finished preparing for the journey and left Betony City.

Naturally, I buried another relay device in an isolated corner of the city before we departed.

“Isn’t it dangerous for us to travel alone?”

Vans sat inside the wagon and asked with obvious concern.

“It would be more dangerous to remain in one place for too long.”

Guts answered while driving, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

To move quickly toward the border, we had purchased a wagon and horses in Betony.

Mercenaries normally travelled on foot.

But this was a gamble involving the course of their entire lives, so Guts and the others had invested heavily.

Vans’s money helped too.

He had naturally brought a considerable amount with him when he left home.

Since we carried very little luggage, buying six riding horses would have been faster.

Unfortunately, almost no one in the group could ride properly.

A wagon was the practical choice.

“The enemy is targeting Young Master Van Swellen, but they also need to hide their identities.”

Guts continued.

“That limits what they can do openly.”

He flicked the reins.

“And they already lost nine Aura Users in the last attack. It will take time to gather another force capable of threatening the young master.”

“So our best option is to disappear before they can prepare again.”

Since Vans had openly revealed his identity to the group, Guts and the others now addressed him as their young master.

“Wouldn’t it have been safer to accept another job through the Mercenary Guild and travel with a larger group?”

“If we did that, we would probably have to follow another merchant caravan.”

Guts shook his head.

“Most mercenaries travel on foot, so we would lose speed.”

“More importantly, accepting an official escort request leaves records with the Mercenary Guild.”

He glanced back.

“Our movements would become much easier to trace.”

“Ah...”

Vans nodded at the veteran mercenary’s explanation.

“Hahaha. What do you think, Vans?”

I grinned.

“Hiring Guts and the others was a good decision, wasn’t it?”

In pure combat ability, they might fall short of trained knights.

But years of surviving as mercenaries had given them judgment and experience that could rival veteran soldiers.

“Yes.”

Vans smiled brightly.

“If I had tried to escape alone, I doubt I would have lasted very long.”

Then, to everyone’s surprise, he bowed deeply.

“I’m learning a great deal from all of you. Thank you.”

“N-no need for that, Young Master.”

“We’re doing this to survive too.”

“Please, raise your head, Young Master Van.”

“Ahem. We’ve already been promised compensation. If you thank us like that, you’re actually making us uncomfortable.”

Guts, Elin, and Burke all hurriedly waved their hands.

A young noble bowing to ordinary mercenaries was apparently both surprising and uncomfortable for them.

Vans really was astonishingly untainted for someone from such a powerful family.

Looking at that blank canvas made me feel a rather sinister smile threatening to appear.

I would need to control my expression.

“As I said earlier, we’ll avoid cities as much as possible to conceal our route.”

Perhaps embarrassed by Vans’s gratitude, Guts quickly returned to discussing our plans.

“The enemy also has to operate away from public attention, so that should make it harder for them to find us.”

“However, our final destination is still House Ludwig.”

His expression became serious.

“We must cross the border to reach it.”

“Once we’ve travelled far enough, the enemy will eventually realise where we’re headed.”

“So in the end, this is a race.”

Guts nodded at my words.

“Exactly, Mr. Karath.”

Then he looked back toward Vans.

“The question is whether we can cross the border before our enemies position themselves along the routes leading there.”

A confident smile appeared on his face.

“But we have the advantage.”

Vans looked curious.

“There is more than one route across the border between Winston and Partan.”

The confidence in Guts’s voice seemed to reassure him.

True to Guts’s declaration that we would hide our movements, our wagon travelled almost entirely along roads that saw little traffic.

Sometimes we crossed barren plains.

At other times we passed through forests or low hills.

To preserve speed and hide our tracks, we avoided villages and cities altogether.

That meant camping outside every night.

Fortunately, we had stocked the wagon with enough food and water in Betony to continue this way for five straight days.

As sunset approached on the fifth day, Guts stopped the wagon.

“Tomorrow we’ll enter a city to replenish our supplies.”

He reported the schedule to Vans almost like a subordinate addressing his lord.

“After that, three more days of travel should bring us to the border of the Kingdom of Winston.”

Resting during a race against time might have seemed strange, but the horses needed sleep too.

Vans smiled.

“Then shall we practice a little before bed again tonight?”

“I would be grateful, Young Master.”

Guts immediately brightened.

Elin and Burke looked equally eager.

Under their expectant gazes, Vans climbed down from the wagon.

Shing.

He drew the longsword at his waist.

Then he began to move.

His blade flowed through the evening air in a graceful sword dance.

“...”

Guts and the others watched as though hypnotised.

What Vans was demonstrating was one of House Ludwig’s mana cultivation methods.

It was not the profound method reserved for direct descendants of the ducal bloodline.

Instead, it was one of the methods taught to knights who swore loyalty to House Ludwig.

If only I could see the cultivation method used by the direct line.

While I entertained that thought, the actual training began.

“Your movement there needs to be smoother.”

“Like this?”

Vans was teaching them.

Despite initially promising that they would receive training only after returning safely to House Ludwig and becoming knights, Vans had started teaching them the family’s cultivation method on the second day of the journey.

Apparently, he had taken quite a liking to them.

Or perhaps he had decided to follow my advice and begin creating his own power base outside the family.

“Mr. Guts, you have enormous practical experience, which is a strength.”

Vans adjusted Guts’s posture.

“But that same experience has left you with several bad habits.”

He smiled gently.

“If you correct them, I think you could reach the intermediate level quite quickly.”

Guts looked as though he might cry.

He had spent years as an incomplete Aura User because he had never been able to obtain a proper mana cultivation method.

No wonder Vans’s willingness to teach him moved him so deeply.

Judging by Guts’s expression now, he almost looked like a knight who had already chosen his true lord, regardless of the contract.

Elin and Burke were just as serious.

Both were working desperately to sense aura for the first time.

Vans truly deserved his reputation as a genius.

Guts, Elin, and Burke had different body types and used different weapons, yet Vans adjusted his teaching to suit each of them.

According to him, direct descendants of House Ludwig all used longswords, but the family knights included warriors who used greatswords, axes, and other weapons.

So he was familiar with several styles.

“Mr. Karath.”

Vans suddenly looked toward me.

“Why don’t you join us?”

I had been paying extremely close attention to the training in hopes of stealing a few insights from House Ludwig’s cultivation method.

Vans smiled.

“Or perhaps you would prefer a spar?”

His eyes sharpened with unmistakable competitive spirit.

“I saw your ability during the night attack and have wanted to fight you properly ever since.”

He gestured toward Burke.

“And since Mr. Burke also uses an axe, watching us might help him.”

Burke was obviously just an excuse.

Vans simply wanted to fight me.

“Hahaha.”

I laughed and stepped down from the wagon.

“A spar sounds good to me.”

A direct descendant of the family known as the Sword of Winston.

A young man praised throughout human society as a swordsmanship genius.

I could already feel my blood warming at the thought of testing his skill personally.

Apparently, no matter what my mind thought, this body was still very much an orc.

Chapter 234

Sacrifice

Tex Manor.

“My lord. A visitor from the Lucilla Merchant Company has arrived.”

“I thought I left conversations with merchants to the rest of you.”

Viscount Helton Tex stood in the training yard, wielding a longsword with his only remaining arm.

His eyes flashed dangerously toward the retainer who had interrupted him.

The message in that gaze was obvious.

You interrupted my training for this?

The retainer swallowed.

“It is... the visitor claims to have brought information that could fulfil Your Lordship’s oldest wish.”

“My oldest wish?”

For just an instant, madness flashed through Tex’s eyes.

Everyone on the continent who knew of him probably knew what his wish was.

They also knew how impossible it seemed.

“Krahahaha!”

Tex laughed like a madman.

“A mere merchant dares speak of that?”

His laughter suddenly stopped.

“If it’s nonsense, I should cut off his head myself.”

Then he reconsidered.

“No.”

A strange smile appeared.

“If word spread that he dared mention such a thing, I wouldn’t even need to act. That man would probably cut the merchant’s head off first.”

The moment he thought of Duke Ludwig, burning pain erupted from the right arm that had been missing for twenty years.

Tex ignored it.

“Fine.”

He sheathed his sword.

“I’ll meet him in the reception room.”

His smile widened.

“I’m curious what kind of face belongs to a man bold enough to bring me such a story.”

“Yes, my lord.”

The retainer left first.

Tex followed shortly afterward.

He merely threw on an outer garment.

His entire body was still covered in sweat from training, but he did not bother washing before meeting the visitor.

Something told him there would soon be blood anyway.

Probably the blood of the merchant who had come here spouting nonsense.

“An honor to meet you, Viscount Helton Tex.”

When Tex entered the reception room, the visitor immediately rose and bowed.

Tex ignored the greeting.

He stared at the man for several seconds.

“You’re not a merchant.”

The visitor stiffened.

“You smell of blood.”

Tex smiled.

“Who sent you?”

Madness glimmered in his eyes.

The visitor was accustomed to violence himself, but Tex’s presence was on another level entirely.

Eventually, he lowered his gaze.

“I am merely a merchant of the Lucilla Merchant Company, Your Lordship.”

Tex snorted.

“If you say so.”

He dropped onto a sofa.

“So?”

“You supposedly brought me a gift.”

Tex leaned back lazily.

Despite his relaxed posture, his presence wrapped around the visitor like the jaws of a predator.

Gulp.

The sound of the man swallowing echoed through the quiet room.

Damn it.

Curses filled his mind.

This had not been the original plan.

Under normal circumstances, he never would have needed to sit across from this lunatic.

The original instructions had been simple.

Leak information about the second young master to Viscount Tex.

They were supposed to enter Tex territory disguised as merchants and casually mention the young man while speaking with local residents.

There had been no intention of directly contacting Tex himself.

Then a problem appeared.

The second young master vanished.

After Betony City, every trace of him disappeared as though swallowed by a mirage.

Simply spreading rumors would be useless if Tex had no way to locate the target.

So their superiors had taken a greater risk.

Instead of indirectly leaking information, they had ordered direct contact.

The visitor forced his trembling voice under control.

“...The second son of the ducal House of Ludwig, Van Swellen Ludwig, is currently travelling through the Kingdom of Partan.”

The moment the name left his mouth...

“Hehehehe.”

An overwhelming wave of killing intent and madness exploded from Helton Tex’s eyes.

Chapter 235

Sacrifice

“Hehehehe.”

Viscount Tex smiled.

“So where is the second son now?”

His lips were laughing.

His eyes were not.

They were completely expressionless, filled only with murderous intent.

This man really is insane.

“His current location is unknown.”

“Unknown...”

Tex slowly tilted his head.

To the visitor, the movement somehow felt like a question.

Do you want to die?

“The last confirmed location was Betony City.”

Under the pressure, the man began speaking more quickly without realising it.

“He has been missing for five days, so we believe he realised someone was tracking him and deliberately concealed his route.”

“We investigated Betony.”

“He and his companions purchased a wagon and enough supplies for five days before leaving the city.”

The visitor continued hurriedly.

“Even if they rationed carefully, they will have to obtain more food by tomorrow or the following day.”

“We expect to identify their location then.”

“He and his companions?”

Tex’s smile widened.

“So the second son isn’t alone.”

The visitor realised too late that he had volunteered additional information.

But it was information they would eventually need to provide anyway.

“One gold-badge mercenary.”

“Two silver-badge mercenaries.”

“A Third Circle mage.”

“And one unidentified advanced Aura User.”

He paused.

“They are currently travelling with the second young master.”

“Since the young master had never travelled outside his family’s territory before, we believe those mercenaries may be helping him return home.”

“Unless this group includes the Gray Wolf they call the Mercenary King, ordinary mercenaries are irrelevant.”

“There is one concern.”

The visitor spoke quickly.

“The unidentified advanced Aura User carries an unusual axe.”

Tex raised an eyebrow.

“Reports indicate that he was able to break the weapons of other Aura Users in a single collision.”

A faint smile appeared on Tex’s lips.

“Are you comparing me to an advanced Aura User?”

The contempt in his tone was unmistakable.

The visitor immediately bowed.

“My apologies.”

“Forget it.”

Tex waved his left hand.

“More importantly, how are you planning to locate these people?”

He stared at the man.

“Surely you didn’t come here expecting me to wander around the entire kingdom until I happened to find and kill him for you.”

“Their destination is almost certainly the border of the Kingdom of Winston.”

The visitor answered.

“We intend to mobilise all available personnel and station people in every town and village along the routes leading toward the border.”

“Hmm.”

Tex immediately understood.

“So once you find him, I go there and kill him.”

The visitor said nothing.

Tex had seen straight through their plan.

Their previous assassination attempt had failed even with nine Ravens.

If they spread their people widely enough to search every possible route, those search parties would lack the strength to kill Vans if they found him.

So they would search.

Tex would kill.

“Hehehe.”

Tex stared at the man.

“The more you speak, the more curious I become about who you really are.”

The visitor looked away.

“That man?”

Tex muttered to himself.

“No. No, that makes no sense.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Then perhaps... that?”

Suddenly...

“Krahahahahaha!”

Tex burst into crazed laughter.

He slapped his knee repeatedly with his only hand.

“This is incredible.”

“Krahahaha!”

After laughing for several moments, he abruptly stopped.

Then he stared directly at the visitor.

“You bastards were sent by House Ludwig.”

“!?”

The man flinched despite his training.

“W-what are you talking about?”

He hurriedly tried to recover.

Too late.

Tex was no longer listening.

“Hehehe.”

“Dogs loyal to the lion are about to get the lion’s cub devoured by a wolf.”

He began laughing again.

“Krahahahahaha!”

The thought of Duke Ludwig sent burning phantom pain through his missing right arm.

Tex did not care.

The stronger the pain became, the harder he laughed.

Before long, his mad laughter was the only sound filling the reception room.

Whoooosh.

The forest was silent.

Everyone stood watching Vans and me.

Vans and I watched each other.

“Hah!”

He moved first.

His approach was fast and compact.

At the very edge of his range, he thrust his sword forward with only a shallow extension.

I calmly read the trajectory and avoided it with the smallest movement possible.

This really is troublesome swordsmanship.

Vans’s style focused heavily on speed and technique.

He unleashed quick, narrowly controlled attacks, clearly trying to gradually disrupt my stance before committing to a decisive strike.

Compared with the huge axe I used, his sword seemed nearly twice as fast.

Instead of forcing an attack with Silvertusk and exposing myself, I remained patient.

I read each path his blade took and avoided his strikes with minimal movement.

Tch.

But Vans was called a swordsmanship genius for a reason.

As the spar continued, his blade began brushing my body more frequently.

Shhk.

Small cuts accumulated.

I still refused to rush.

An axe only needs one good hit!

I endured and continued watching.

Then I saw it.

Now.

Among the patterns he had repeated several times, Vans entered the same sword path again.

“Hraaah!”

I seized the opening and swung Silvertusk with everything I had.

The axe tore directly toward his neck.

Vans had already committed too far to evade.

He had two options.

Block.

Or surrender.

For just an instant, hesitation appeared in his eyes.

“Hup!”

He abruptly changed the path of his attacking sword and brought it across to intercept my axe.

CLANG!

The weapons collided with an explosive metallic crash.

CRACK!

Vans’s longsword snapped cleanly in half.

“...”

He stared blankly at what remained of his blade.

“Ahem.”

I suddenly felt uncomfortable.

“S-sorry, Vans.”

For a noble son, he seemed unusually devastated over a single broken sword.

It probably was not about the money.

The shock must have come from seeing a weapon he trusted destroyed so easily.

“Maybe blocking an axe with a sword was too much to ask.”

I tried to comfort him.

“We’re entering a city tomorrow anyway. You can buy another sword there.”

An ordinary longsword weighed only a few kilograms.

Silvertusk weighed close to fifty.

Trying to stop a weapon more than ten times heavier head-on was bound to cause problems.

But Vans lowered his head and muttered something.

“...given to me.”

“What?”

“That sword was bestowed upon me by His Majesty the King!”

“!?”

It was the first time I had heard Vans shout.

“I won the youth swordsmanship tournament two years ago, and His Majesty personally awarded me that blade!”

He raised the broken half.

“It was made from a mithril alloy! It was more than worthy of being called a masterpiece!”

“M-mithril alloy?!”

This time, the mercenaries reacted.

They stared at the broken sword in disbelief.

“There are knights in my family who use two-handed axes similar to yours.”

Vans looked almost offended by reality itself.

“But even when I blocked those axes, this sword never so much as chipped.”

His eyes slowly moved toward Silvertusk.

“So how did it break in a single strike?”

Then he stared directly at my axe.

“What exactly is that thing?”

This?

An axe made for the Orc Grand Chief.

I followed his gaze and looked down at Silvertusk.

I had always known it was a very good weapon.

Was it really that absurd?

“Haa...”

Vans released an incredibly deep sigh.

His expression remained utterly devastated.

“Y-young Master.”

Guts hurried over to comfort him.

“The city we’ll be entering tomorrow is Rockhands.”

I had no idea why the name of a city was supposed to make Vans feel better.

“Rockhands is famous throughout the Kingdom of Partan.”

Guts continued.

“There’s a dwarven workshop there.”

“A dwarf?”

I turned toward him.

Didn’t they get driven into the mountains too?

Chapter 236

Sacrifice

“Are you insane, human?”

Those were the first words spoken by the dwarven blacksmith.

He was barely taller than a goblin, built with muscles thick enough to rival an orc’s, and had deeply tanned skin.

Vans stared at him with a grave expression.

“Are you saying even a dwarf cannot repair a broken sword?”

The dwarf looked even more offended.

“Are you insulting us?”

He jabbed a finger toward the broken blade.

“Of course I can repair it!”

“Then why...?”

“Do you think a mithril-alloy sword is some cheap toy?”

The dwarf’s face reddened.

“To repair this properly, I first have to determine the original alloy ratio.”

“If I patch it with a different mixture, the balance will be ruined, the sword will handle like garbage, and it’ll probably break again!”

He threw up his hands.

“Figuring out the ratio, rebuilding the blade, and restoring the balance will take at least three days.”

Then he glared at Vans.

“And you want it finished by tomorrow morning?”

“Are you joking?”

So time was the problem.

Unfortunately, time was exactly what we lacked.

We were still being hunted.

After resupplying, we intended to leave Rockhands first thing tomorrow morning.

“And how in the hell did you manage to break such a valuable mithril-alloy sword like this?”

The dwarf picked up the broken halves.

“No, forget that.”

He examined the cut.

“Snapping it this cleanly is almost impressive.”

Despite his appearance, the dwarf had an incredible talent for irritating people.

Listening to him made me wonder how his entire race had survived this long.

Orcs, goblins, and beastfolk had all been pushed toward the mountains.

Yet these rude little bastards somehow managed to live among humans.

I genuinely could not understand it.

“...I blocked that axe with it.”

Our innocent Vans pointed dejectedly toward Silvertusk.

The dwarf paused.

“That axe?”

He looked toward the weapon strapped across my back.

Then he stared more closely.

“!!!”

His eyes widened until they seemed ready to burst.

“Th-this whole thing is mithril!”

“What?”

“Pure mithril?”

The shout immediately attracted the other dwarves in the workshop.

One after another, they crowded around.

“Wow. He’s right.”

“Wait, isn’t this forging style ancient?”

“Yeah. My grandfather once showed me a piece made by his grandfather that looked similar.”

“If your great-grandfather made it, that thing was already at least three centuries old.”

“That’s the thing. Looking closer, this style might be even older.”

“Damn. This is practically an artifact.”

“Where did he even find something like this?”

The dwarves crowded around Silvertusk like visitors at an exhibition, loudly examining every detail.

“A solid mithril axe...”

Guts and the others stared at my weapon with the same stunned expressions.

“Is a mithril axe really that unusual?”

I removed Silvertusk from my back and looked at it curiously.

Immediately, one of the dwarves stared at me like I had lost my mind.

“Another insane human.”

“You’ve been carrying this around without knowing what it’s worth?”

“Raw mithril alone is worth dozens of times its weight in gold!”

Another dwarf pointed at the axe.

“A solid mithril longsword could buy you a respectable barony!”

“And look at the size of that thing.”

A third dwarf whistled.

“It must weigh more than ten longswords.”

“With that much mithril, you could probably buy a small county.”

I stared at Silvertusk.

That much?

“Why is mithril so expensive?”

The dwarves looked at me as though the question itself offended them.

“Because aside from legendary orichalcum and unobtainable dragonbone, mithril is the strongest material people can actually get!”

“And its mana conductivity is incredible.”

“Mages would kill to make artifacts from it.”

“Knights would kill to make weapons from it.”

They spoke as if this were something every child should know.

“Orichalcum only appears in legends. Nobody has ever seen the real thing.”

“And dragonbone requires killing a dragon.”

One dwarf spread his arms.

“How exactly are we supposed to get that?”

“I heard the emperor of that damned Holy Empire claims to own armour made from dragonbone.”

“Who knows whether it’s real.”

“Hmph. That madman calls himself an emperor.”

“As if someone like that could get genuine dragonbone.”

The discussion somehow shifted from rare metals to insulting the emperor of the Holy Empire.

The Holy Empire.

The largest human nation in terms of territory.

More importantly, it possessed two Aura Masters and a Seventh Circle mage.

It was the last nation I wanted to make an enemy of.

Yet the dwarves openly hated it.

“Why do you despise the Holy Empire so much?”

Every dwarf reacted as though I had just said something insane.

“Because those lunatics want us dead!”

One shouted directly at me.

“How are we supposed to like them, you idiot?!”

Guts and the others also stared at me in disbelief.

“Haa...”

Elin sighed.

“Mr. Karath, the Holy Empire is a religious state that worships a single god.”

“And according to their doctrine, that god watches over humans alone.”

Burke continued.

“To them, every intelligent race other than humans is no different from an animal or monster.”

“Ah...”

So they’re human supremacists.

...

Damn.

We’re seriously screwed.