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[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
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Chapter 8
Raymond looked to be in terrible shape.
His left shoulder was practically shredded.
If it wasn’t treated quickly, he might never be able to use that arm again.
"Did you hide some kind of treasure here or something?"
I took a step forward.
At the same time, the brute stepped back.
"Why do you keep snooping around here?"
I pointed my sword at the tomb raider.
My heart was pounding like crazy.
This guy was a master who could manifest sword energy.
Could I really win?
Anger had nothing to do with it — what determined victory was skill.
If I had a bit more time, maybe… but right now, my abilities weren’t enough.
‘Status window.’
[Pierson]
-Skill: Orion’s Ronin Sword Technique (Intermediate)
-Strength: 12.1
-Agility: 10.4
-Endurance: 12.8
-Sense: 10.6
-Energy: 4.4
The brute’s stats appeared, floating in the air.
Sure enough, his stats were clearly higher than mine.
Orion’s Ronin Sword Technique, huh…
The Ronin Sword Technique was created by Orion, known as the King of Ronin, for wandering swordsmen.
It wasn’t exactly publicly distributed, but most ronin with decent abilities had studied this sword manual.
‘Intermediate Ronin Sword Technique…’
All his stats were 2 to 4 points higher than mine.
I had to make up for the gap with traits or skills — but could the Havenberg Swordsmanship really bridge that distance?
It was a bit risky to use necromancy.
I’d already used it earlier in the day.
If I used it again now, I might actually pass out.
And this wasn’t just one opponent — there were two enemies, and Raymond was already incapacitated.
If I couldn’t completely take them both down within seconds of using necromancy… it would be over.
More than anything, if I collapsed, I wouldn’t be able to save Raymond.
‘I need to trust myself.’
I’d trained like a madman for the past month.
There had to be a way.
The opponent was already intimidated, haunted by the memory of the old me.
The one he was facing wasn’t just Ren Arzen, but Havenberg Arzen.
“Speak.”
I tried to hide my tension and spoke to him with feigned composure.
I could feel the nervousness radiating from him.
There was definitely an opening.
“You crawled back here after I spared you once? No gratitude at all?”
Pierson’s eyes were trembling like crazy.
“W-Wait, please just listen to me—”
He gripped his machete tightly.
I could feel the tension locking up his muscles.
“You’d better drop that. Or you won’t die cleanly.”
At my threat, he slowly loosened his grip on the blade.
Maybe his morale was dropping due to the overwhelming gap in strength.
I had to press this advantage.
“Drop it. If you don’t, you die.”
I stepped toward him — one step at a time.
One step, two steps, three…
Pierson also took a step back in response to each of mine.
His gaze was fixed solely on my sword.
All his senses had to be trained on me.
Thud.
“Uh-oh?”
While retreating, Pierson’s foot caught on the edge of a tombstone, and he let out a foolish little cry.
At the same time, he dropped his machete.
Got him!
He was completely terrified.
This was my chance.
“Drop it, drop—”
Now…!
I charged at Pierson without hesitation.
He was off-balance and falling backward.
I closed the gap in an instant and slashed downward with my sword.
“…Tch!”
The panicked tomb raider hurriedly grabbed his machete again.
His blade came slashing toward my waist, trying to cut me in half.
Attack and defense aren't done separately.
You do them at the same time.
My ancestor’s words flashed through my mind.
I twisted the direction of my blade midair, aiming not to decapitate him completely, but to slice only the part of the neck where the artery ran.
I pulled the sword back toward my body.
Skkk—
Clang—!
“Gaaah… urgh…”
Blood spurted from the back of his neck.
At the same time, his machete and my sword clashed.
The faint sword energy he released pushed my blade aside and sliced into my side.
“Ghhk!”
A searing pain shot through my side, like I’d been branded with fire.
That was close.
If I had gone for a full decapitation, or if my sword hadn’t slowed his machete for even a moment…
My waist would’ve been the one cut in half.
Whoooshhh!!
Blood gushed from the giant’s throat, splattering across my face.
He looked at me with an expression of disbelief, his mouth opening to speak, but the boiling blood flooding his throat silenced him.
He collapsed.
From his chest, a small round wooden token tumbled out.
“Tsk.”
His blood had drenched me so thoroughly that the new clothes my mother gave me were stained within hours.
No, with my side already torn open, I couldn’t wear them again anyway.
‘Haa…’
Hot blood trickled down from my side.
This is insane.
My head was starting to spin, but there was still one bastard left.
The spiky-haired grave robber.
When I turned my head, I saw him slumped over, barely able to support himself after getting slashed across the chest.
He was leaning against a tombstone, barely catching his breath.
Our eyes met, and his pupils trembled violently.
“You… What’s your real reason for being here?”
There was something I’d been pondering for a while now.
Why were they so obsessed with this place?
Why would someone skilled enough to wield sword energy resort to grave robbing?
These guys were definitely mercenaries.
Their skills and demeanor didn’t fit that of simple tomb robbers.
And most tellingly, the badge that fell from Pierson’s body—
It was the same kind used by mercenaries.
Even the sword technique they used reeked of wandering mercenaries.
Anyway, this had become a real problem.
Which meant these two weren’t the only ones after this place.
I had to figure out who was behind them.
“Garett. And Pierson.”
Hearing their names suddenly come out of my mouth, Garett couldn't hide his shock.
It seemed he was so overwhelmed by fear—seeing Pierson die in one blow and knowing he could be next—that he couldn’t think straight.
Even though getting slashed by Pierson should’ve been enough to realize I wasn’t as strong as they’d thought, Garett hadn’t picked up on it at all.
“I’ve already dug up all the dirt on you. There’s only one thing I want to hear from you—who hired you.”
“P-Please, spare me!”
His facial muscles twitched uncontrollably.
The pain shooting up my side made my head go hazy, but I had to pretend I was fine.
Like this wound was nothing.
“It’s not ‘please spare me.’”
I approached Garett and without warning drove my sword into his abdomen.
“Ggaaaargh…!”
“What I want to hear is who’s behind this. You want to live? No, you’ll be begging me to kill you soon enough.”
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[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
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My voice dropped low.
Garett’s face turned pale.
“B-Black mage! I don’t know anything more!”
“…What?”
“They had strange symbols on their robes. Here—there’s a token in my pocket with their emblem on it! They just told us to retrieve the remains in D-Decaine! The reward was… huge…”
Garett started rambling, completely delirious.
Still, I managed to piece together the situation.
Tsk.
Black mages—just the people I feared the most.
The group suspected of summoning demons.
They’re the ones said to have killed Spencer, too.
At this point, it felt like fate had tied me to these black mages.
“Haa… Where’s your meeting place with them?”
“I-I don’t know. They just appear when they want to…”
Even in his terrified state, it seemed he truly didn’t know anything else.
I reached into his pocket and pulled out the token he mentioned, engraved with the black mage group’s emblem.
It looked grotesque.
A demonic-looking figure was drawn on it, surrounded by strange, unreadable symbols.
[You have found a trace of the Black Mages.]
[Main Quest – Trace of the Black Mages]
[The black mages are plotting something. Find their traces.]
-Traces of the Black Mages: 1/3
The counter went up.
I didn’t expect to be tracking them like this…
This guy’s usefulness had come to an end.
“Please… gggkk!”
Slice—!
Thud.
I severed his head cleanly.
I couldn’t let him live.
If he ended up in a kingdom prison, the black mages might entangle themselves with the kingdom.
It was safer to kill him here and feign ignorance.
They likely didn’t even know who I really was.
I sheathed my sword and approached Raymond, who was lying on the ground.
“You alright?”
“A-As expected of you, Sir… You’re amaz—…”
Raymond, barely holding on to consciousness, let his head droop.
My heart dropped—I thought he’d died for a moment and quickly checked his pulse.
Thankfully, it was steady.
But his shoulder needed immediate attention.
I quickly tore some cloth, wrapped his shoulder tightly, and then bandaged my own waist to slow the bleeding.
Before wrapping it up, I’d glimpsed some of my innards poking out.
“Urgh!”
As I lifted Raymond onto my back, the pain from my side surged, nearly making me faint.
“Haa…”
There was no way I could go to my mother and Resia like this.
They’d be worried sick.
And if they saw me like this, my mother might never let me touch a sword again.
Going home was out of the question.
‘No choice then.’
I never wanted to go to that bastard, not even if it killed me...
* * *
A woman with golden hair tightly tied back was chopping wood while looking toward the eastern sky.
Dawn was approaching.
In a small village nestled in the mountains, not far from a city of the Brillant Kingdom.
At a corner of that village stood her cabin, and from early dawn, visitors had arrived.
“Haa... Haa...”
Two men had shown up unannounced.
One of them had a deep gash in his side, blood soaking his entire outfit, and the other, slung over his back, had a shoulder that was nearly shredded like a rag.
“Who are you...?”
Thud.
The man, bloodshot eyes staring at the woman, collapsed on the spot.
“Hey! Are you okay?”
The woman hurriedly checked their conditions, frowned, and brought them into her house.
* * *
A faint light shimmered before his eyes.
When he opened them, he saw a light hanging from the ceiling swaying gently in the wind.
“Ugh!”
His entire body screamed in pain.
His right side, slashed by Pearson, throbbed like mad.
“You're awake?”
A calm yet irritated voice spoke.
‘I came to the right place.’
With great effort, he turned his head and saw a woman, looking much younger than he remembered, staring at him with a stern face.
A sharp nose, piercing eyes, golden hair, and golden eyes.
And above all, that annoyed expression.
He immediately pulled up her status window.
[Francis]
-Trait: Stigma: Second Line
-Skill: Holy Magic – Beginner
-Strength: 5.3
-Agility: 6.0
-Stamina: 6.2
-Sense: 4.0
-Divine Power: 13.7
Her basic stats were utterly average.
But she had a stigma — a rare trait among those who possessed divine power — and the ability to use holy magic, backed by a high level of divine power.
‘As expected.’
He had come to the right person.
A bearer of the Stigma, a mark only granted to a rare few among the divinely gifted.
And a cleric who had gone into hiding to avoid the church’s control.
She was the only one in the area who could treat him and Raymond.
Though he’d likely have to pay whatever price she demanded...
“Ugh…”
Sitting up, he looked at his wounded side.
It was wrapped in bandages, so he couldn’t see the wound directly, but judging from the pain, it seemed the worst had passed.
“You… healed me?”
He feigned ignorance.
“Yes. I just put out the immediate fire, that’s all.”
Looking at his body, that seemed to be exactly the case.
Just enough to keep him alive — but that was good enough for now.
He could recover gradually.
“Thank you. What about my companion…?”
“He’s lying in the other room. It'll be a while before he wakes up.”
She had deliberately slowed his recovery to keep him from waking up too soon.
Probably to use him as leverage and extract information from them.
“I see. In any case, thank you for your help.”
“If you’re thankful, answer my questions.”
Her voice turned chilly.
She seemed quite angry.
“Alright. Ask me anything.”
“Name, age, occupation, why you came here, and how you got hurt. Tell me everything.”
Her strict interrogation had begun.
This was the main reason he had never wanted to meet her.
A money-hungry cleric — that was Francis.
If she didn’t get paid, she’d extract something of equal value no matter what it took.
Whether it was information, physical labor, or anything else — it didn’t matter.
And her personality was sharp and abrasive, making her difficult to deal with.
‘I don’t even have anything to give her... Sigh…’
His head was already starting to ache.
Since she was hiding her identity, she probably wouldn’t demand anything too outrageous.
It wouldn’t benefit her to stir up trouble.
He just needed to keep her temper in check and find a mutually beneficial arrangement.
‘Now, what should I say…’
He knew that half-hearted lies would be seen through instantly by someone like her.
If she caught him lying, she’d likely unleash her divine power on the spot and attack.
In his current state, he wouldn’t be able to beat Francis.
Even at full strength, he wasn’t sure he could.
“Ahem, first off, my name is Ren Arzen, and I’m 21—”
“Wait.”
Francis’s expression suddenly hardened.
What now?
He hadn’t even said anything suspicious yet.
Her body was trembling ever so slightly.
“Arzen? Are you insane?”
Her voice dripped with raw fury.
What?
Did she have some bad blood with the Arzen family?
He'd never heard of that before.
Sigh...
He barely held back a sigh.
‘Why does this damned family always get in my way?’
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[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
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