The Indomitable Martial King

Chapter 62.5



[ Chapter 62 (part 2) ]
‘My goodness, can that even happen?’

Tilla marveled. She had heard that aura users could recover their bodies by consuming large amounts of food and then using their aura, but she had never seen eating and recovery happening simultaneously.

Munching on meat ceaselessly, Repenhardt recalled the maxim of his master, Gerard.

-You cannot become strong without eating meat!

‘Ah, it’s such an ignorant notion, but the problem is, it’s not incorrect.’

At least, for Gym Unbreakable, this philosophy was indeed a truth. Despite inwardly rolling his eyes, Repenhardt devoured an entire deer he had caught.

He chewed and swallowed the last piece. Then, closing his eyes, he sensed the vitality throughout his body. Even though he had recovered quite a bit, his body was not perfect when he had left the dwarf village. Perhaps around 60% of his usual condition?

But now, his body was filled with vigor. His muscles throughout his body felt overflowing with strength, as if they were screaming to leap into action at any moment.

“Alright, shall we test it?”

After steadying his breath, Repenhardt suddenly punched into the air.

Boom!

The air tore apart with a loud noise, and a storm blew, instantly snuffing out the campfire at his feet. Tilla’s mouth gaped open.

“Wow!”

Normally, martial artists perform a show where they extinguish a candle with a punch, creating a gust of wind. Repenhardt did that with a campfire. It was truly an act beyond human capabilities.

“Good, I’m at 100%.”

Repenhardt retracted his fist, showing a satisfied smile.

* * *

“Ugh….”

Leaning his chin on a lavishly decorated table, Eusus was in a quandary.

After hearing the reports from Lento and Baras, Eusus immediately scolded them. The report itself seemed quite plausible, but Eusus knew the inside story that the other knights did not.

‘No, why would the Silver Sage possibly want anything from Gym Unbreakable!’

He couldn’t possibly discuss the existence of the Silver Sage, a secret among secrets, with them. Ultimately, Eusus decided to go down to the dungeon himself, ready to interrogate directly, even if it meant compromising his dignity. He was even prepared to resort to torture if necessary, to extract the whole truth.

However, Eusus found himself in the same predicament as Lento and Baras. He couldn’t find any fault, let alone torture them.

-Oh, you want me to repeat what I’ve already said? Well, I can do that.

Sillan repeated the same story in front of Eusus without any hesitation. Thus, Eusus was even more baffled. To him, it didn’t seem like Sillan was lying at all.

No matter how skilled one is at lying, inconsistencies inevitably arise with enough questioning. Yet, Sillan did not avert his gaze, nor did he fumble his words. Certainly, a spy formally trained in intelligence could manage such deceptive testimony. But this boy, Sillan, was a pilgrim — a cleric, to be precise.

This does not imply that clerics are incapable of lying. Indeed, there are spies who masquerade as pilgrims to extract information from foreign lands. However…

‘A high-ranking cleric with bishop-level divine power undergoing espionage training? Unlikely. Especially at such a young age.’

Mastering the art of lying to such a degree at a young age without substantial training is impossible. And to receive such training while also being a bishop-level cleric? That’s practically unfeasible.

This was the crux of Eusus’s headache. No matter how he looked at it, the boy Sillan wasn’t lying. Torture or interrogation only has meaning if there’s suspicion. But with Sillan’s demeanor, the truth seemed too evident to question.

‘He believes what he’s saying to be the truth.’

Since he believes it, there’s no hesitation in his speech. Had Eusus not known the truth, he might have been deceived by such a plausible story.

‘In other words, these kids are completely unrelated…’

Originally, Eusus had detained Sillan and Siris, hoping the thief from the previous night would come to rescue his companions. Otherwise, the opportunity to catch them again would be indefinitely delayed. But if what was said is true, the likelihood of the night’s thief returning for these children is exceedingly slim.

‘He’ll likely abandon the kids without a second thought after getting their wounds treated.’

Eusus had momentarily entertained the thought that perhaps, out of affection, the thief would return for the Slayer elf girl. After all, Slayers are too valuable to simply forsake.

However, Eusus soon scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. Would anyone be that foolish? If the commission came from another family, especially one involving a confrontation with a Golden Knight, the sum involved would be no small matter. The reward for such a feat could easily cover the cost of two or three Slayers, eliminating any need to risk returning for them.

“Ugh…”

How could he possibly recapture someone he had once let slip away? Well, eventually, with the power of the Tenes family at his disposal…

‘Even if by some luck we catch the thief, by then the Voice of Elucion would have already passed into the hands of another family.’

Catching the thief was imperative. So was retrieving the relic, and all of this had to be accomplished before the thief could pass the artifact to another family.

There seemed to be no way forward. No matter how much he pondered, a solution evaded him.

It was during such a moment of frustration that Eusus was unexpectedly interrupted.

“Huh?”

Whoosh!

An immense energy surged from the far end of the fortress, startling Eusus to his feet.

“What is this?!”

He was not wearing the magical armor Eldrad at the moment. Yet, the energy was so profound that he could feel it without the armor. Moreover, this energy was not unfamiliar to him.

‘This energy is…’

It was a feeling he recognized. The very same energy he had enthusiastically clashed with the night before.

‘The aura-user thief?’

What Eusus felt at that moment was not relief or welcome, but sheer incredulity.

‘Really, he came back? Why? Was he that attached to the Slayer?’

* * *

Drain, looking far more tense than usual, was on guard duty atop the fortress wall.

His job, guarding the outer walls of Viscount Kelberen’s fortress, was usually so uneventful it could be considered a sinecure. The Kelberen Viscounty, nestled beside the Setellad Mountains, remarkably saw few monster appearances and maintained good relations with neighboring territories. Moreover, the lord did not excessively tax his subjects, so there was little risk of rebellion. It was virtually unheard of for anyone to attack this fortress.

But that was only true until the previous night. Recalling the mysterious thief who had infiltrated, Drain shivered. His fellow guard, Kaltan, noticed his unease and asked,

“What’s wrong, Drain? Caught a cold?”

“No, just thinking about yesterday.”

“Ah, right. It was a terrifying scene indeed.”

To be honest, neither had a clear recollection of the events. What they remembered was something akin to a dark cloud enveloping them, and then they blacked out (they were the unfortunate guards whom Repenhardt had knocked out first.)

When they came to, the fortress was in chaos. The esteemed Tenes Knights had been toyed with by a single intruder, and it was only with the intervention of a Golden Knight that order was restored. All this upheaval caused by just one intruder.

Viscount Kelberen was, understandably, furious. He declared that if the thief showed up again, they must capture him using the forces of the Kelberen domain alone, to restore the knights’ honor.

Consequently, the already agitated Captain Hotern was even more irate. As a result, all defense forces of the Kelberen fortress had foregone their days off and were on high alert. Even Viscount Kelberen himself was seen tending to his daily duties in full armor.

“I’d never seen Mr. Hotern that angry before.”

“Me neither, me neither.”

Drain and Kaltan stood upright, only moving their eyes as they surveyed those around them. Despite it still being the afternoon, over fifty soldiers were stationed at various points along the wall, holding spears and swords with furrowed brows, a picture of strict discipline.

However, the true feelings of these sharp-bladed soldiers were less ‘We have let our guard down and allowed the enemy through, what a disgrace! We shall ensure that outsiders never invade Kelberen Castle again!’ and more ‘We are really staying alert here! Please, anything but a pay cut!’ In fact, Drain and Kaltan shared a similar sentiment.

Recalling the events of the previous night, Drain sighed. After all, Viscount Kelberen had boasted that the soldiers alone would be enough to capture the thief…

“No way, how could ordinary soldiers like us possibly deal with someone who can crush armor and shields with their bare hands just by being a bit more alert?”

Kaltan nodded subtly in agreement.

“I really hope we never meet them again… What was that? A monster?”

“I heard that the thief already stole what they came for. So, maybe they won’t come back?”

“No, but this morning, Sir Eusus brought in the thief’s accomplices. So, they might come back to rescue their comrades.”

“Ugh, I wish they would just knock us out cleanly like last night again…”

While the soldiers seemed to be in a state of high alert on the outside, their conversations painted a different picture. Drain and Kaltan, along with the other soldiers, were all sharing similar sentiments. If Viscount Kelberen heard them, he would be livid.

As Drain and Kaltan were engaging in their lackluster dialogue, Kaltan suddenly turned his head in surprise.

“Huh?”

It was a strange sensation he had never felt before, as if something was pricking his skin. Drain felt it too and turned his head in the same direction.

“What is this chilling feeling?”

Both shivered involuntarily, and they were not alone. Every soldier on the wall had turned to look in one direction, just like them.

At the edge of the forest near the castle gate, Kaltan let out a dazed groan upon setting his eyes on that spot.

“Ah?”

A man emerged from the forest. With brown hair and a robust build, golden radiance shimmered around his broad shoulders. The light was so intense that, had it not been golden, one might have mistaken the man for being on fire.

Drain muttered hesitantly, “Could it be… is that an aura?”

It was an aura user, a being of legends! At that moment, all the soldiers on the wall froze, realizing the source of their unsettling feeling.

It was an overwhelming presence.

The man, exuding a golden aura, walked towards the castle with unmatched confidence. Among the petrified soldiers, one particularly brave soul managed to overcome the intimidation and shouted at the man.

“Who are you! Identify yourself!”

The man lifted his head to look at the soldier and smirked.

“Impressive. I did use a bit too much energy on purpose.”

He slightly bent his knees. Still, the soldiers on the wall could do nothing. Despite their training, they could only stare, like frogs paralyzed by a snake, unable even to divert their gaze.

In this state, the man murmured softly, “Calamity Horn…”

Despite the quietness of his voice, it was heard clearly. Unintentionally, Drain dropped the spear in his hand.

Clang…

As the spear hit the ground, the man roared and leapt forward.

“Haap!”

Golden aura rippled through the air. His steel-like physique turned into a massive spear, charging forward. A solid fist extended, tearing through space and drawing countless waves of light.

The man’s punch slammed into the thick gates of Kelberen Castle.

Boom!

With a thunderous noise, the stout gates shattered into pieces with a single blow. Fragments flew into the air. But that was not all. Four dazzling waves of golden light converged into one point, pulling in the surrounding air. A horrifying shockwave scraped the ground, shaking it as if an earthquake had erupted. The walls, constructed by dwarves to stand unyielded for a millennium, cracked.

A moment of silence, then the walls crumbled with a deafening roar.

Rumble!

Experiencing the ground shaking under one’s feet is not something easily forgotten. Finally, the soldiers began to scream and collapse.

“Aaaah!”


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