Chapter 660
They arrived safely at Bilkenos.
He parted ways with the Grand Duke, agreeing to meet again the next morning.
Now, Simon was walking along the northern downtown streets at night. The inn he had booked was still quite a distance away, so he decided to take a leisurely evening stroll.
Here and there, drinking bouts had broken out. Bearded men with flushed faces were shouting at the top of their lungs while raising their beer mugs.
Duels were taking place constantly. In fact, in this northern land, whenever people gathered in a circle, it usually meant a duel was happening. In a place where strength and courage were virtues, people endlessly sought to prove themselves.
If there was a complaint? Duel.
If the food was bad? Duel.
Even bumping into someone on the street? Duel.
The clang of metal resounded sharply. “That’s it!”, “Push harder!”—even the cheers of the spectators were unusual.
As Simon took in the northern scenery—
“Hmph, hmm~”
—as always, Erzebet was stuck to his side like glue. Simon glanced at her while walking.
He had learned from the Grand Duke about a new technique called Geheim, which drew out and explosively unleashed the potential of Ancient Undead.
But he still didn’t understand how such a technique manifested.
—Think about why your Ancient Undead follow you.
He had some guesses. Erzebet had admired his father, Richard, and now she followed him, Richard’s son.
If that was the case, then what he had to give her was…
‘Ugh!’
Simon’s face flushed red, and he shook his head violently.
The other party was an Undead. A difference in race? In species? It wasn’t something that simple. The biological gap between them could never be bridged.
“Commander?”
Erzebet rolled her eyes toward Simon.
“You look lost in thought. Is something troubling you?”
“Ah, it’s nothing.”
Simon forced a smile to brush it off.
Ancient Undead, who lived anywhere from several hundred to over a thousand years, were among the most mysterious beings in existence. Particularly those who had contracted with a Legion Commander often had something missing inside them, and followed their commander to fill that void.
‘In return for her loyalty, what can I give Erzebet?’
While Simon was brooding over that, they had already arrived in front of the inn. As usual, Erzebet had bought wine, cheese, and fruit.
Though she didn’t eat, she seemed to enjoy the time spent conversing together.
‘Tonight, I should talk to Erzebet about Geheim.’
Just as Simon reached for the doorknob—
“……”
He froze, sensing something odd. His face hesitated in thought, but then he firmly grabbed the handle again.
“Commander.”
Erzebet called out with a stiff face. Simon just smiled faintly and pulled the door open.
Inside, the inn was packed.
Northern warriors, each holding a weapon, filled the cramped hall, glaring at Simon with grim eyes.
The atmosphere was hostile. Simon walked in calmly regardless. Over by the kitchen, the innkeeper couple clung to each other, terrified.
“……”
He even saw familiar faces—the men he had beaten up the night before, their faces still swollen. Among them were their companions who had also suffered at his hands.
‘A retaliation, then.’
Simon sighed lightly and spoke.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“You’ve done something quite amusing, stranger.”
The voice came from the stairs leading to the second floor. A middle-aged man sat there, downing a beer. His adam’s apple bobbed as the drink spilled down his beard.
After draining the mug, he tilted his head sideways.
‘That one’s the leader.’
Simon immediately recognized him as no ordinary man.
He wore a white fur coat that looked to be from a monster, and atop his head were sharp triangular animal ears. He bore traits of both beastfolk and northerners.
But most striking of all was the flag resting against his opposite shoulder.
This man was a Rider.
Clap!
He held his palm out to the side.
The man Simon had beaten staggered forward, knelt, and rested his chin heavily onto the leader’s hand.
“This fellow here—”
Crunch.
The Rider gripped the man’s jaw tightly, shaking it.
“—his temper was foul, but he was young, showed promise, so I had chosen him as my successor.”
“……”
“But after picking a fight with some delicate noble outsider and getting thrashed, word of it has spread all across the north.”
Each time the Rider’s hand jerked, the man’s face shook violently, his cheeks grotesquely distorted. It was a ridiculous sight, but the surrounding warriors showed not a flicker of amusement.
“So now my honor among the Riders is in tatters.”
The moment he released the jaw, he kicked the man savagely in the gut.
Crash!
The man rolled across the inn floor, slamming into the wall.
“I trust you understand my situation.”
The Rider stood, brushing his hands. Tufts of beard fell to the ground.
Creak, creak.
He stepped forward, the inn floor groaning under his boots. He walked past Simon, heading for the door.
“Honor this, pride that—you northerners sure talk big.”
The Rider froze.
Simon was smiling as he looked back.
“Doesn’t seem all that honorable a method to me. Am I wrong?”
That bastard!
Curses filled the air as weapons were drawn all around. Yet Simon, unfazed, continued calmly.
“I am a guest of the Grand Duke. To avoid pointless trouble, I spared your men after defeating them. But if goodwill is answered with betrayal, I find it irritating.”
The Rider turned back.
“…A guest, you say? Everyone in Bilkenos knows you tried courting the Grand Duke and got rejected.”
Hahaha—!
Laughter echoed through the inn.
“And even if you are the Grand Duke’s guest, it won’t change a thing.”
He slowly raised his arm.
“Guests disappear overnight in the north all the time.”
With a harsh slash downward, the warriors roared and charged Simon.
The inn rang with the clash of blows and shattering of wood.
The Rider himself did not join in, leaving it to his men, and walked outside.
“Seeing a woman’s blood before battle brings bad luck, so I’ll let you live.”
He said this to Erzebet, who was standing outside.
“It’s unfortunate you’ve lost your master, but in the north, mind your tongue.”
Erzebet only smiled.
Strange woman, thought the Rider, as he walked off.
“Phew.”
The wind was cold.
Burying a stranger from outside in this place didn’t sit well with him, but there was no choice.
‘He must’ve had some skill, to take down my successor.’
But flaunting half-baked strength was bound to bring ruin. The Rider clicked his tongue.
Tonight, he craved the strongest liquor that could burn his throat.
As he searched for a decent tavern—
“Boss! Boss!”
One of his men, pale-faced, came running from the inn.
“It’s bad! Really bad!”
“What is it?”
The man trembled violently, unable to form words, waving his arms before finally shaking his head hard and shouting:
“You have to see it yourself! Boss, you won’t believe it unless you see it!”
“…?”
The Rider returned to the inn with him.
It hadn’t been long, but the inn had already fallen silent.
‘Is it already over?’
The Rider strode into the inn with his flag resting on his shoulder.
“You bastards, clean this mess up—hm?”
His eyes widened.
The walls of the inn were splattered with blood. Warriors were embedded in the walls, or pinned into the floor with their lower halves dangling lifelessly.
Only groans echoed through the eerie silence.
And there—
Sitting casually atop a hill of fallen warriors, legs spread in insolent fashion, was the blue-haired boy whose eyes glowed dangerously.
“You’re here?”
The moment their gazes locked, gooseflesh raced across the Rider’s entire body.
“How…! What the hell are you?!”
“I told you. I’m the Grand Duke’s guest. Or rather…”
Clap, clap.
Simon dusted off his hands and stood.
“…let’s say, an ally.”
He began walking forward, arms loose at his sides. Erzebet, meanwhile, leaned dizzily against the wall, muttering in a feverish voice, “So cool… I want to devour him…”
“Useless trash!”
The Rider dropped his flag onto the floor and ripped off his fur coat, revealing battle-hardened muscles built from countless fights.
“Huuup!”
From his body, Darkness erupted explosively.
So he was a necromancer too. Black fur sprouted all over him as his body transformed.
‘…Metamorphosis!’
Many students in Keyzen had also specialized in this black magic. In an instant, he turned into a panther cloaked in black fur, baring his fangs.
Srrring—!
Not only that, he condensed Darkness in his right hand, shaping it into a sword.
“I’ll end this quickly, without pain.”
He stomped forward, collapsing the inn floor beneath him as he lunged.
In the blink of an eye he closed the distance, swinging the blade of Darkness at Simon.
Craack!
A flash streaked straight up in front of Simon, slicing the weapon in half.
‘My Darkness Sword?!’
Looking down, he saw a long, metallic tentacle-like spike jutting up from the ground.
Crunch!
At the same time, Simon stomped hard on the top of his foot.
“You’re not escaping now.”
Clatter, clatter!
Simon’s right arm, pulled back, suddenly became covered in countless bones. Layer upon layer formed into a massive gauntlet, far bulkier than his normal arm, like an armored weapon.
<Heavy Bone Gauntlet>
The Rider’s face froze.
If that thing hit him—
“W-wait…!”
BOOOOM!
Simon twisted his waist, landing a perfect full swing. The blow from the Bone Gauntlet smashed the floor and drove the Rider deep into the ground.
“C-captain!”
The remaining sane warriors, the innkeeper couple, even the subordinate who had run to fetch him—all stood frozen, jaws slack.
“I didn’t kill him.”
Simon dismantled the Bone Gauntlet, the massive armor breaking apart into a swarm of skeletons.
“But this matter… can’t just be overlooked…”
He trailed off, lowering his head.
Something was touching his abdomen.
The subordinate’s eyes were bloodshot red.
“Captain! Are you insane?!”
During the beatdown, the Rider had grabbed his fallen flag, thrusting it against Simon’s body.
“Kh… heh… heheheh…”
From the wreckage, the Rider trembled, raising his head. Teeth clattered and fell loose from his bloody mouth.
“Die… just die already…!”
Crack!
Simon kicked him in the face, knocking him out cold, then quickly checked himself.
The spot where the flag’s tip had touched his abdomen was now marked, like a circular target.
Thump!
Every cell in his body screamed a warning. Goosebumps rose all over his skin, cold sweat dripping down his back.
Simon’s gaze snapped to the window.
Whoooosh!
The black night sky spun into a cyclone, like a raging typhoon.
“Dammit! Run! Everyone get out!”
The subordinate bolted from the inn, screaming.
Simon, having grasped the situation, simply smiled faintly, planting his feet shoulder-width apart.
Finally, a bit of tension.
The role of a Rider was, in truth, singular—
To mark the target, even if it cost them their life.
Bang!
And the Grand Duke would always respond.
Creeeak—!
Atop the castle gates of Bilkenos, a window opened.
A black-haired woman raised her bow.
Superb.
When are we getting more free chapters?
Thanks for the new chapters