Chapter 68

Chapter 68. It Was Purely Talent

“How did it go? He said he would attend, did he not?”

“No, he said he would not.”

“What? Why?”

“How would I know?”

“Nngh. This has become troublesome.”

At his fellow knight’s words, Jeffer rubbed his forehead and let out a low groan. His head began to ache slightly because of this completely unexpected situation.

It was because the plan was about to fall apart in a way he had never expected. The plan to beat that impudent Barbarian bastard half to death, that was.

If only Balun attended the Rotenfeld Public Sparring Ceremony, Jeffer was confident he could ruin the man’s honor and crush his pride in front of countless people. But Balun had said he would not participate, so the plan they had gone to such effort to make became meaningless.

“This makes no sense. I thought that Barbarian bastard would definitely attend…….”

“There is still time, so let us try tempting him a few more times.”

“Yes. Let us do that.”

Even after that, they tried to tempt Balun further, but he only repeated that he would not attend.

In the end, they had no choice but to withdraw their plan without persuading Balun.

They could not force someone who said he would not attend to participate by threatening him.

To begin with, the very reason they were doing this was to create a justification that no one could object to. If they threatened him, the meaning of making the plan in the first place would disappear.

If they touched him carelessly, they might also incur Count Rotenfeld’s anger for no reason.

“I simply cannot understand it. Why in the world is he saying he will not attend? If he wins, it is a chance to make his name known!”

The knights shook their heads. No matter how much they racked their brains, they could not understand.

What kind of event was the Rotenfeld Public Sparring Ceremony? It was a major event where countless spectators gathered.

If one succeeded in showing off one’s skill in front of the citizens of Rotenfeld Grand Castle and Feldraum, one could gain tremendous fame.

On top of that, it was also an opportunity to compete with skilled fighters, so for a Barbarian obsessed with a Warrior’s training journey, it should have been bait that made him drool uncontrollably.

And yet he would not do it?

Why in the world?

“The answer is obvious. Is it not to make fools of us?”

Jeffer answered his comrades’ question.

“Make fools of us? Us?”

“Yes. That man has already noticed our plan. That is why he said he would not do it. There is no doubt.”

“What! Are you saying that man is that clever?”

“I hate to admit it, but we have to see it that way. Otherwise, he would not have been able to block Black Moon’s attack, nor would he have been able to subjugate the bandits of Dunmore.”

“Mm.”

The knights nodded. His words had a point.

“He probably wants to attend so badly that he can hardly stand it. He must be drooling over it. Yet he is holding himself back.”

“To make fools of us?”

“Yes.”

“What an insolent bastard! How dare he!”

The knights gritted their teeth. Jeffer stroked his chin with a serious expression and thought,

‘He is an impressive bastard. It could not have been easy to let go of his greed, yet he endured it.’

Jeffer imagined it. If he had been in that situation, would he not have participated in the public sparring ceremony?

No matter how he thought about it, he would have done it. If he imagined participating a hundred times, he would have participated all one hundred times.

Just as knights jumped into flames for the sake of honor, Barbarians jumped into flames for the sake of battle.

To suppress a desire that could be called an instinct engraved into one’s blood? That alone proved he was not ordinary.

‘I have no choice but to acknowledge it now. He is certainly different from other Barbarians. He is definitely a remarkable man.’

***

Had Balun really avoided participating in the sparring ceremony in order to make fools of the knights? Had he suppressed his desire to participate for that reason?

Of course not.

To begin with, Balun had not even grasped their intentions.

To be precise, it was not that he had failed to grasp them. He had simply had no interest in them from the start.

Whether their expressions looked sinister or not, none of that entered his eyes.

No, why would he go there and waste strength when they would not even pay him?

It would be better to swing his axe one more time or practice Mana Cultivation one more time in that time.

‘Well, it did look interesting, though.’

Balun smacked his lips. Looking back, he regretted it a little. It was because the public sparring ceremony was not the sort of atmosphere he had imagined.

He had thought it was ordinary sparring, but it turned out to be a huge festival event.

People had apparently flocked there to watch the knights fight one another, and street stalls and traveling acrobat troupes had even set up all over the streets.

From what he heard, it was a regular event held twice a year, and one of the largest events in Count Rotenfeld’s territory or something like that.

So many people had gathered that nearly a thousand spectators had come to watch.

‘Damn it, should I have participated too? Or at least watched.’

Balun smacked his lips again. The reason he regretted it so much was that not only had he not participated in the public sparring ceremony, he had not even gone to watch it.

Balun had simply stayed inside the Small Drill Yard, swinging his axe, and practiced Mana Cultivation in his room.

Shouts and cheers came from outside, making things quite noisy, but what did that matter? Balun had been busy making up for the things he had been lacking.

Eat, take a dump, swing his axe, and sleep. After spending several days like that, things soon quieted down.

The funny thing was that once the noisy, bustling atmosphere disappeared, he felt regret after the fact.

Leaving participation aside, he should have at least gone to watch!

It seemed the street stalls had sold many tasty things too. Things like chicken skewers. Ones brushed with sweet sauce.

‘They said a wandering mage also performed magic. If I had seen that, I would have seen a fire show too. Not a magician’s fire show, but a real fire show.’

Still, it was not all regret. Since he had not played around and had instead done closed-door training, he had gained something.

WHOOSH! WHOOSH!

Balun swung his axe again and again. His firm body, after swinging the axe for over two hours already, was drenched in sweat as if he had been rained on.

The hand holding Black Moon swung lightly. It looked like the same swing each time, but the key point was that each swing actually had a different level of strength.

‘Now, I can roughly control my strength.’

Strength control was one of the things Balun had put the most effort into during this closed-door training.

It was because recently, he had felt that his strength had increased considerably even without Enhancement Art, and it had reached the point where he could not control it properly, so he had trained it separately.

‘I hope I stop ripping off doorknobs now.’

Balun shook his head. Honestly, he was not confident. Right now, he had managed to control it somewhat through closed-door training, but if he grew even stronger before long, he would definitely lose control again.

Of course, whether he would grow stronger from here or not was something he did not know, but Balun’s instincts told him that his body would not stop developing at this level.

‘At this rate, will I really win a contest of strength against an Ogre?’

“You are working very hard again today.”

At the sudden voice, Balun turned his head. Heinrich was walking in from the entrance of the Small Drill Yard.

Balun put down his axe and wiped away his sweat roughly with the towel hanging beside him. Heinrich looked at him and exclaimed in admiration.

“Your muscles make no sense. How is this possible? Did you only eat and train?”

“No. It was purely talent.”

“What? Not effort?”

“Exercise is originally all about genetics. It is harsh, but that is the truth.”

For reference, Balun’s father, Ktam, was even larger than Balun.

“Genet, what?”

“Never mind.”

“Sometimes, you really say strange things. Is that a Barbarian word?”

“Well, something like that.”

Heinrich chuckled, then sat down beside the stone wall Balun was leaning against and asked,

“Balun, you truly still have no intention of becoming a knight?”

“None.”

“You are very consistent.”

“It would be strange for a person to change so easily.”

“That is true.”

Heinrich nodded.

In truth, when he had first heard that Balun had rejected his father’s offer of knight investiture, he had thought it was such a waste that he could hardly bear it. Such an extraordinary talent ought to become a Sword of Rotenfeld, so how could it not feel like a waste when he had no intention of doing so?

However, now that time had passed, his thoughts had changed considerably.

He had come to think that forcing someone who disliked it to become a knight was not right. If they wanted to do so, perhaps it could be done, but the good relationship they had built would collapse.

If they could not hold him anyway, would it not be better to at least maintain a connection with him? That would be the path for Rotenfeld’s sake.

“In truth, giving you a knight’s title was the reward I had prepared. But since you dislike it, I cannot give you that reward.”

At those words, Balun’s eyes narrowed.

‘No, give me something tangible instead of that.’

“So I prepared another reward to give you. You may look forward to it.”

“What is it?”

“Go see my father. You will find out.”

Heinrich smiled meaningfully.

‘What is with that smile?’

Balun tilted his head and went to Count Rotenfeld.

“You have come?”

“What is the matter?”

“Sit first. Would you like tea? Ah, Barbarians do not drink tea. Beer?”

“No, Balun will drink tea.”

“That is surprising.”

“I hear that often.”

As he sipped the hot black tea a servant brought him, Count Rotenfeld opened his mouth.

“War may break out before long.”

“……?”

Balun tilted his head.

What was this sudden statement?

‘Out of nowhere?’

“Are you not curious? Why that is, I mean.”

“Balun is curious.”

No, who would not be curious if he said it like that?

“You remember the elite ranger prisoners of the Shadow Claw Unit you brought here, yes?”

“Ah, Balun remembers.”

As far as Balun knew, those prisoners had been locked in the underground prison. He had heard they had been beaten badly and tortured or something like that.

“We succeeded in extracting valuable information from them.”

“Valuable information?”

“Information that they were preparing for an invasion.”

“By they, do you mean the neighboring country? Valtrien? Valatien?”

“Valtrien.”

“I see.”

“Those rangers disguised as bandits played quite a tremendous role. They moved all over the Bled Mountain Range, plundering the Kingdom of Corint’s precious assets, extracting and leaking each territory’s valuable military intelligence…….”

Stories that seemed like classified matters poured recklessly from Count Rotenfeld’s mouth. Balun listened without showing it on his face, but he was slightly flustered by such a serious topic suddenly entering the conversation.

‘As expected, those bastards were something like spies.’

He had roughly expected it, but hearing that it was true felt different.

‘No, but is it all right to tell me something like this?’

I am an outsider, though?

“Of course, thanks to your efforts, we prevented the worst situation, but it seems we cannot avoid the larger flow.”

“Are you saying war will break out?”

“Yes.”

“Can we not simply avoid having a war?”

“No one in this world goes to war because they like it. I am the same.”

Balun nodded. He understood immediately what the man meant. He was probably saying he could not do anything about it himself.

“But why will this war break out?”

“To explain that, you would have to listen to me teach a lesson on the history of the Kingdom of Corint and the Kingdom of Valtrien for more than half a day. Would that be all right?”

“Ugh, no. Just make it short.”

When Balun shook his head, Count Rotenfeld chuckled.

“To summarize, it is because of the greed of the filthy Kingdom of Valtrien.”

“Greed?”

“Yes. Those bastards have always coveted the area around the Bled Mountain Range. They invaded several times as well. They had been quiet for quite a long time until now, but this time, they could not restrain themselves and revealed their ugly greed.”

“I see.”

Balun stroked his chin. He understood what the man meant, but at the same time, a question arose in his mind.

‘Is that all? Should there not be another reason?’

Balun did not know much about complicated things like political philosophy, but he did know one thing. War needed justification.

A war without justification would inevitably create major side effects. Was that not why every invader in the world tried to find a justification somehow?

However, from Balun’s perspective, Count Rotenfeld’s explanation did not show that.

‘There must be some complicated circumstances between the two countries.’

He was curious about those circumstances, but because he did not want to listen to a history lecture, he decided not to ask.

“So why are you telling Balun that war will break out?”

“Because I want to give you a gift.”

“A gift?”

He could not imagine what it was.

What connection could there possibly be between war and a gift?

“The vanguard.”

“The vanguard?”

“I shall give you that.”

Count Rotenfeld continued speaking with a faint smile.

“I shall allow you to stand ahead of everyone else and defeat Valtrien’s strong warriors.”

As his words continued, the faint smile deepened further.

“If you do that, you will defeat enemies even before my loyal swords do. You will bring down more enemies than anyone, and your fame will soar with enough force to pierce the heavens. Everyone will revere you.”

“…….”

“Your compatriots, wherever they may be, will hear news of you as well. If they learn that you are smoothly becoming a Great Warrior, they will shed tears of joy.”

“…….”

“Now then, what do you think? Does it not tempt you?”

“Of course, it does n…….”

No sooner had Balun opened his mouth than Count Rotenfeld spoke first.

“Money must never be omitted when hiring a mercenary. Naturally, the mercenary contract will be made formally, and you will earn a large sum. A sum far greater than the money I gave you before.”

‘I have already grasped that, unlike a Barbarian, you like money. If honor and a massive sum of money are offered together, even you will never be able to refuse.’

Count Rotenfeld thought that with a smile filled with certainty.

“No.”

Balun shook his head as if mocking that certainty.

“I will not do it.”

“What?”

Count Rotenfeld’s eyebrows twisted.

“Why?”

‘What do you mean, why? Would you want to do it if someone said they would put you in the vanguard? I do not even want to participate in a war.’

Balun recalled the years that had passed. The days of child abuse when he had been conscripted into war countless times. As those memories returned, his entire face naturally twisted.

***

On the way back after his private meeting with Count Rotenfeld, Balun hurriedly returned to his lodging while thinking, ‘I need to leave this place quickly.’

He had originally intended to stay for a long time, but his plans had changed.

If he stayed here for long, he would inevitably be drafted into war.

Of course, Balun could simply refuse, but who knew? He might get swept up in the atmosphere.

Balun firmly believed that one must always prepare for worst-case scenarios.

‘No matter how much money they give me, what is the point? If I die, it is all over.’

Life came before money. That was a fact that would not change even if the sky split in two.

As he hurried his steps, Balun thought, ‘Let us go somewhere else. I have to go inspect places anyway if I want to find somewhere to buy a house.’