Chapter 115

Chapter 115. Anticipation is the Essence of a Gift (4)

Autumn had fully arrived in Sephira.

The leaves had turned yellow, and the trees along the road spread out like a colorful carpet.

The workers clearing the fallen leaves wore thick clothing. Their noses were as red as cherries, and their breath formed clouds with every exhale.

The sound of preparing firewood for the cool nights could be heard. In the crisp air, the sweet scent of pumpkin soup wafted gently by.

“Huff, huff.”

The soldiers, who had been jogging since early morning, were panting heavily. At their lead was a knight.

Morning jogging had been included in the training schedule two weeks ago.

At first, both soldiers and knights complained of fatigue, but now they said they couldn’t start the day refreshed without the morning jog.

There was one spot that couldn’t be missed on the jogging route that circled the entire estate.

The course that passed by the second training ground. The soldiers were too busy looking to the side rather than straight ahead. The sound of steel being sharpened and aura being torn apart was etched in their ears.

Bam! Boom! Clang!

To the soldiers, it seemed like human figures were rapidly closing and widening the distance, with the ground exploding in the process.

But the knights saw it clearly.

Anis, fighting against three Diamond Mercenaries.

Anis had abandoned his old bow and was using a new one. It was a hybrid between a straight bow and a recurve bow, combining the strengths of both.

The fight dragged on. The 30 arrows in his quiver were quickly depleted. But unlike before, he didn’t immediately switch to close combat.

Zwoosh!

An aura arrow formed on Anis’s bow.

The Diamond Mercenaries quickly distanced themselves, wary. Anis’s aura arrows had a range of only 100 meters.

Anis didn’t just stand still and watch. This time, he chased after the Diamond Mercenaries, firing arrows.

The jogging soldiers passed by Anis.

But there was still more to see.

Taragon was fighting seven Platinum Mercenaries simultaneously. Originally, there were ten, but three had already been taken down.

Taragon’s appearance had changed significantly. Archers typically don’t wear armor. Mobility is crucial, and they don’t expect to fight close-range opponents.

But Taragon had evolved to not shy away from close combat. He wore the armor that knights typically wear.

However, he made it as thin as possible. Even if it reduced durability, the goal was to minimize weight. He also left the joint areas open to ensure unrestricted movement.

Taragon’s fighting style was unique. He fired arrows until the enemies closed in, reducing their numbers as much as possible. When they got too close, he used an arrow in his left hand like a dagger.

Thud! Stab!

He used the bow in his right hand like a staff and the arrow in his left like a dagger. His feet were focused on footwork, not attacks.

Four Platinum Mercenaries managed to close in despite the arrows.

Taragon narrowly dodged effective attacks with his sharp reflexes, blocking grazing blows with his armor.

On the other hand, Taragon’s aura-infused attacks left the mercenaries severely wounded even if they just grazed them. Sure enough, soon after, the four mercenaries were rolling on the ground.

After finishing the fight with ten Platinum Mercenaries, Taragon immediately moved on to the next battle without rest, but only one Diamond Mercenary stepped onto the stage.

Taragon put his bow back into the quiver on his back and approached the Diamond Mercenary.

And so the battle began.

Taragon fought bare-handed, while the Diamond Mercenary attacked with a sword.

“Do what you want.”

Taragon faithfully followed Keter’s words.

He didn’t stubbornly stick to fighting multiple opponents at once. He didn’t insist on using only archery. Like now, he sometimes fought one-on-one to learn how to handle a sword-wielding opponent bare-handed.

Anis and Taragon were growing at an extraordinary pace. Behind it all were the mercenaries who actively cooperated and generously shared their expertise. And there was Keter’s medical skills, which healed any injury immediately.

Originally, even noble families with strong finances wouldn’t attempt such training. No matter how skilled the physician, the trainee’s mental strength wouldn’t hold up.

Even if the body’s wounds heal, the mind rots. They become exhausted and worn out.

Anis and Taragon were no different. They’re human too. Mentally, it’s tough.

But Keter planted a clear purpose and reason in them. Winning the Southern Sword Tournament. Sephira’s fate if they failed.

If these were the whips, there were also carrots. Key advice and elixirs tossed to them whenever they were discouraged.

Their mental strength was tempered. Hammered hundreds of times and cooled, forged into steel.

“How is it? Useful now?”

When Keter asked Burgundy, he nodded.

“Remarkable progress. To grow this much in just two weeks. Their senses and techniques have improved dramatically. Even their aura.”

“Spent some money.”

“Envious.”

“The Southern Sword Tournament. What rank do you think they can achieve?”

Burgundy rolled his eyes and chuckled.

“Trying to fish for information, are you?”

“I showed you a lot too, didn’t I? Top-tier information, right? Sephira’s lunatic Keter. Turns out, he’s incredibly skilled!”

“What I’m most curious about is why you bring danger upon yourself. Some would even kill to hide their strength and skills.”

“Do you know why they hide? Because they want peace. Because they’re afraid. They don’t want to fight.”

“You’re the opposite, then.”

“Do I have to say it out loud? I wish a strong opponent would appear.”

“If you want to fight strong opponents so badly, go to the Adeus Kingdom. It’s filled with the kind of strong opponents you’re looking for.”

“Not me going to them. I want them to come to me. No matter how strong I become alone, it’s meaningless.”

“…You’re spouting some profound nonsense.”

“Enough with the nonsense, just give me the information. Unless you want to be my enemy.”

Not just any mercenary, but the vice-commander being threatened.

No, to Burgundy, it didn’t feel like a threat.

It was a confirmation. Are you my enemy or not? If you are, we fight. If not, I’ll let you live. A straightforward question.

There was no need to ponder. Burgundy had no desire to be Keter’s enemy.

“Top 30. Anything higher would be difficult.”

“Quite harsh. Not even top 20?”

“Not harsh. That’s the ranking assuming the best-case scenario. The Southern Sword isn’t just a title given to the strong. You need to excel in three battlefields. For example, take the 8th Southern Sword Tournament 12 years ago.”

Burgundy recalled what happened during the 8th Southern Sword Tournament.

“The 8th Southern Sword was Jerpy Ruvan. At the time, he was a 4-Star Knight. But did you know? There was even a 5-Star Master among the participants. If strength alone was everything, why didn’t the Master become the Southern Sword? It’s because he was special. From the preliminary Deathmatch, he was targeted by all participants. In the team tournament, he ignored his team and fought alone, wiping them out. In the individual tournament, he didn’t come first but third. Jerpy placed second, third, and second in each segment to become the champion.”

The more special and noticeable you are, the more you’re targeted. And among swordsmen, archers stand out even more.

Moreover, Sephira is politically isolated. What Burgundy is ultimately saying is that no matter how strong you are, if you’re isolated, even a Master can’t do much.

“No matter how hard Anis and Taragon strive, they’re 3-Star Knights. Even if they compensate for their lack of aura with technique and fire arrows that can affect 4-Star Knights, it’s only once. Even if they somehow survive the Deathmatch and team tournament, it won’t work in the individual tournament. All their capabilities will be exposed in the earlier matches. I think even fighting a vigilant 3-Star Knight would be tough.”

He wasn’t exaggerating or being subjective. Burgundy was speaking purely objectively, and Keter stroked his chin.

“Then what about me? What rank do you think I’d be?”

“You…”

“You’re hesitating.”

“Tch, I’ll tell you a top-secret piece of information. Three Masters are participating in this tournament. The second-highest number in the tournament’s history.”

“Three Masters. They have three, and I have one, so I can’t take first place?”

“It’s not about the numbers. They… might be stronger than you.”

“Oh? All three?”

“Not all three. But two are definitely stronger than you. That’s why I predict you’ll place fifth.”

Burgundy glanced at Keter’s expression.

Would he get angry, make a troubled face, or try to remain calm and expressionless?

All wrong.

Keter was smiling.

Like a child who had received a gift, with a bright smile.

“That’s good? I was worried it might be boring, but thanks to you, I’m a bit excited now. Thank you.”

“…Aren’t you going to ask who they are? Knowing in advance would be a big help.”

“Knowing in advance would ruin the fun. That’s what gifts are all about. The anticipation of not knowing what you’ll get is the essence of a gift. The brief joy of receiving a gift is nothing compared to the sleepless nights spent wondering what it might be.”

“You’re insane.”

“You know me well. I’m the madman of this family.”

“You told me not to tell you, but now I feel like telling you even more.”

“No. Don’t say it.”

“I’ll tell you just one. Don’t glare at me. Put your fist down. The anticipation of the gift you’re talking about won’t disappear. What I’m telling you is just the wrapping.”

“Who is it?”

“One of the Seven Dragons, the Sword Dragon, is participating.”

Whoosh!

Keter swung his fist. Burgundy dodged by a hair’s breadth.

“Why are you doing that? If you’re a battle maniac, isn’t this exciting news?”

“The Seven Dragons, they’re weaklings. It just made my anticipation go flat.”

“…I think you misunderstood. The Sword Dragon is one of the three Masters. A 5-Star Master.”

“You ruined my excitement, so take responsibility.”

Keter summoned Amaranth.

Burgundy sighed and drew his Aura Sword.

* * *

“It was the fastest month of my mercenary life. Am I the only one who’s disappointed?”

One Diamond Mercenary joked. The others seemed to feel the same, their disappointment evident.

“Anyone willing to help for free?”

At Keter’s words, the mercenaries shouted towards Anis and Taragon.

“It’s been fun this past month. If we get the chance, we’ll see you at the Southern Sword Tournament.”

“Not something a swordsman should say, but we’ve told you all the weaknesses of swordsmen. Don’t let the knights take you down easily.”

“Good luck!”

The mercenaries bid farewell and left.

Anis and Taragon had initially held negative feelings towards mercenaries, but now they had completely changed their minds. Not all mercenaries in this world are bad, after all.

“What about you? Willing to volunteer for free?”

Burgundy shrugged, then took out a business card from his pocket and handed it over respectfully with both hands.

“Prince Keter. I formally invite you to the Lilian Kingdom Mercenary Regional Headquarters. Please accept.”

Keter reached out and took the card. Then he slipped a Solver business card between his fingers and handed it over.

“Take it.”

“Thank you. Then, good luck.”

Burgundy, who had taken Keter’s card, also left. Only 82 people had left out of the thousands residing in Sephira, but the emptiness was palpable.

Taragon and Anis, who had grown accustomed to fighting with the mercenaries, didn’t even have time to feel the void. As soon as the mercenaries left, a knight came looking for them.

“Master Anis, Master Taragon, and Master Keter. I am Nabakin of the Holy Knight Order. I have urgent news.”

At the word “urgent,” Anis spoke with a tense expression.

“What is it?”

“The Lord has called a family meeting. All family members except for you are currently waiting in the banquet hall.”

At the mention of the entire family waiting, Anis’s eyes widened. That meant the Lord, along with two elders and the second son, Mail, had arrived first and were waiting.

“Keter, follow me. There’s no time to change clothes.”

Even if it was an unexpected family meeting, making the family elders wait was unthinkable. Anis was drenched in cold sweat.

Normally, running around would be beneath a noble’s dignity, but now wasn’t the time to worry about appearances.

Anis hurriedly ran ahead, and Taragon followed.

Keter, who hadn’t slept for two whole months, yawned and walked leisurely.