Chapter 96

Chapter 96. Something Like Career Counseling

The moment Balun crowned the duel with victory, the Croan army’s command staff must have sensed that they had lost this battle.

Otherwise, they would never have softened the momentum with which they had been pressing so aggressively and pulled their forces back.

The Croan army fought a little longer, or seemed to, then withdrew, and thus the Corint army led by Count Monteki secured its first victory on Halborn Plain.

It could not be called a great victory, but it was an achievement worth celebrating.

After all, they had pulled off the remarkable feat of eliminating Viscount Lev Roent, the Knight Order Commander of the Wedge Knight Order, one of Croa’s representative knight orders.

The staff assisting Count Monteki were more delighted by that fact than by the victory itself.

“Count. This is truly an absurd achievement. To think we broke the pillar that represents southern Croa! Haha!”

The pillar that represented southern Croa.

That statement was no exaggeration. Viscount Roent had made a name for himself on the battlefield for over twenty years and had commanded the respect of every noble based in the southern Kingdom of Croa. The death of such a man carried truly enormous meaning.

From the Kingdom of Corint’s perspective, it could only be welcome news.

Thus, a modest party unfolded in the large encampment set up on Halborn Plain. It was not quite a banquet, more a dinner gathering to celebrate the victory.

“Come, come! Let us drink! You have all worked hard, so enjoy yourselves a little!”

The encampment grew noisy in an instant. Balun was also present at this modest party where everyone celebrated the victory of the first battle.

The evening’s gathering was divided between a place for the nobles of command and a place for the soldiers and mercenaries, and Balun had joined the one where the nobles had gathered.

Not because he wanted to join. He had been forced to attend.

Apparently, the person who had distinguished himself could not be absent, or something like that.

Well, he was not in a bad mood. If anything, Balun was in a very good mood.

He had won a battle and earned merit. There was no reason for him not to feel good.

Even if he was eating alone in a corner of the nobles’ feast without so much as someone to talk to, what did it matter?

Balun was not the type to lose heart because he was excluded in a place like this. Instead, regardless of whether people chattered beside him or not, he freely helped himself to the food on the table.

‘Damn. Turkey meat. Whoa! Steak!’

Balun was quite excited. After eating food that tasted like absolute shit, eating the food nobles ate was simply the best.

All the more so because Balun’s palate was cheap.

This was why the pleasure of eating was the best.

What in the world was as enjoyable as eating?

“Haha! Now the fame of the Lance Charge that the Wedge Knight Order boasts of will be past its prime!”

“Indeed! From now on, should we not say that our Ironwall Knight Order stands above the Wedge Knight Order?”

“Of course. Quite right. Absolutely!”

Nearby, some nobles were brazenly committing the shamelessly immoral act of openly minimizing Balun’s merit, but he did not care about that either.

Well, noble lords were all like that.

How much would they possibly enjoy some mercenary nobody earning merit?

The sinister chatter of lesser noble lords who did not even hold a baron’s title was not in Balun’s consideration at all.

What could these prissy fellows do even if they talked for a hundred days?

In any case, all he had to do was win over Count Monteki.

‘Ugh, I’m full. That was good.’

Once he felt he had eaten enough, Balun rose. As he headed outside the tent, he felt something tug at his trouser leg.

He looked down and saw a noble sitting in a chair, gesturing with a reddened face.

“Hey, Barbarian! Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m leaving because I’m done eating.”

“Leaving, my foot. Come over here and sit down, quickly.”

“I refuse. Even if I come, you’ll just make me perform some party trick.”

Balun ignored the summons and went outside. He heard the man fly into a rage, but he paid it no mind. It was not as though this had happened only once or twice.

They had been calling people over and spouting pointless remarks for a while now, and he saw no reason to humor them.

The atmosphere outside was not much different from the nobles’ feast. Soldiers and mercenaries alike filled their bellies with meat and enjoyed the evening with prostitutes at their sides.

It looked very much like discipline had gone slack, but in truth that was not the case. The Corint army had been worked like dogs all through the aftermath of the first battle.

Between clearing corpses, treating wounds, and inspecting broken and damaged equipment, the soldiers had been worked to the bone.

For a commander, recognizing those soldiers’ hard work with this sort of modest reward was only proper. If he did not do at least this, the army’s morale would drop straight to the floor.

“Hey! Balun!”

“Come sit over here!”

As he crossed the heated encampment toward his own tent, people called Balun from all over. They were soldiers he had grown close to in the meantime.

The shared bond of having risked their lives together in battle and cleared away the bodies of their comrades together tended to bring people close quickly. Even if their races were utterly different.

And Balun, of all people, had played a huge role.

Most of the contemptuous looks and words that had come from all around had disappeared. At least within this encampment, Balun was a popular man.

It was a good thing, but he still could not help feeling awkward about it.

“I said come over here! I heard you can really drink?”

“I’m fine. I’m not drinking. I’m full.”

“Come on, you Barbarian bastard. Are you saying you’ll accept the noble lords’ cups but won’t accept a cup from lowly soldiers like us? That hurts, you know.”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t drink there either. I only ate meat.”

“Yeah? Then come over, eat some meat, and go. Tell us about killing that knight bastard!”

They called to him from all over, and he could not bring himself to refuse. Unlike the nobles who had looked at him as if he were a servant, their eyes held unmistakable goodwill.

With no helping it, Balun joined the soldiers’ banquet table. He accepted the meat they offered and talked with them about this and that, mostly war stories.

Balun was not normally fond of recounting his exploits, but the mood being what it was, the story came out. To liven things up as well, he gave them a detailed account of his fight with Viscount Roent, and the soldiers enjoyed it enough to cheer.

“Heh heh, so then, I, you know, stabbed that lanky bastard right in the gut and killed him. I wasn’t as good as Balun, but I did my share...... Hm? Where are you going?”

“I’m going to rest. Enjoy yourselves.”

“You’re leaving? Already?”

“Yeah. I’m tired.”

“Tsk. If you’re tired, it can’t be helped.”

And so Balun returned to his own tent. He had said he was tired, but in truth he was not. He had come back to end the day with training.

Rather than simple training, it was a kind of self-feedback session, Balun’s personal routine that he never skipped after a fierce battle.

He briefly practiced Mana Cultivation. As he emptied his mind, the heat of excitement faded and he felt his mind grow calm. Inwardly, Balun mulled over the duel with Viscount Roent.

It had been a fine victory, but not a perfect one. There was clearly a moment he found unsatisfactory. It was the part where he avoided a frontal contest and made a surprise attack by throwing his axe.

Of course, the surprise attack worked well, but it could not be called a good strategy. It was closer to a cheap trick.

Balun did not like that. He had used that cheap trick because facing the man through orthodox means had felt difficult.

It was not some shame over failing to be honorable like a knight. Balun was simply considering the worst-case scenario.

What if he had to face multiple skilled opponents who could give off such a clear Aura?

Would he throw his weapon then too, to create an opening?

Not a chance. He absolutely could not do that. That was the flaw in this tactic.

That was why Balun was serious now.

‘Even for me, the Aura that skilled swordsmen give off is hard to face head-on. In the end, the problem is Aura.’

A clear Aura Sword produced by fighters of Expert-rank or higher. Balun wanted to find a way to completely counter it.

If he could manage it, he figured he would evolve by one stage—no, two or three stages.

But the problem was how he was supposed to do that.......

First, there was an answer. Raise the potential of his Ego Weapons.

According to Seria, an Ego Weapon was a weapon that grew. Its performance varied enormously depending on how one grew the weapon.

Then he only had to raise his Ego Weapons well. If he could do that, the ultimate axe—one that would not take even a scratch from an Aura Sword—would be born.

But the problem was that this was not a fundamental solution.

What if he did not have Black Moon, Blue Moon, and Crimson Moon? What should he do if, for unavoidable reasons, he could not take them with him? What if he made too many enemies and was abducted, leaving him unable to use his weapons?

In that situation, if a Sword Master—the dream of every swordsman—popped out and swung a Beam Blade around, whoosh, whoosh, was he supposed to just drop dead? His body would be sliced like a radish the moment it touched him, would it not?

That could not happen. Balun wanted to find a fundamental answer.

After thinking it over carefully, there was only one answer.

Enhancement Art.

He had to further evolve his own unique technique, which by now had become almost the entirety of the combat strength that made him what he was. Only then did he feel he would find the answer.

The problem was that he did not know how to evolve Enhancement Art.

And with good reason. It was a technique of his own that no one else possessed.

‘I’ll have to seek advice, at least. As soon as day breaks, I’ll ask Count Monteki.’

That was Balun’s final conclusion.

There was no need at all to rack his brains alone when the excellent method called collective intelligence was available.

***

The next day.

Early in the morning, Count Monteki called for Balun. He said he had business with him.

Since he had planned to go see him anyway, Balun promptly went to the command tent where he was.

Count Monteki had a map spread out with his staff and was discussing tactics. When he saw Balun, he waved in welcome.

“Oh, you’re here. Come in.”

“You drank that much yesterday, but you’re fine today.”

“That is only natural. Yesterday is yesterday. From today onward, it is war again. Come, come, sit down. Will you have a cup of tea?”

“Tea sounds good.”

Soon, an adjutant brought in tea. It was black tea with plenty of sugar in it.

As Balun savored the sweet taste, Count Monteki broached the subject.

“I can see why Baron Anchio trusted you so much. Your performance was truly remarkable. Remarkable enough that I have no choice but to acknowledge it.”

“It was all for me. I have to earn merit if I want to get paid well and get other treats too.”

“Good. Keep that mindset unchanged and continue fighting for yourself. Then I may be able to give you a heap of gold.”

“Can you give me that gold now?”

“I would like to. But I cannot. The war is not even over, so I cannot already begin distributing rewards according to merit.”

“I see.”

“But you can look forward to it. I like you.”

Count Monteki downed his tea in one gulp and continued.

“So, about that. I would like to make you a proposal. There is something I want you to do. Will you try it?”

“I’ll hear it first.”

“Of course. Hear it first, and if you think it is impossible, you do not have to do it.”

Hearing that, Balun suddenly thought of someone from the Red Magic Tower.

That mage fellow had spouted moronic nonsense about only being able to tell him the request’s details after he accepted.

......Even thinking back on it, that proposal made no sense at all.

“You’re a hundred times better than Oskal.”

“What?”

“Nothing. What is the proposal?”

“Let us discuss it while looking at the map first. This is where we are now. And the Croan army’s encampment is here.”

Count Monteki placed two markers on the map.

“Beside this encampment where the Croan army is positioned, there is a valley. Our scouts discovered that unusual Mana was being felt deep inside this valley.”

“Mana?”

“Yes. It seemed suspicious, so I had a trusted subordinate look into it. As expected, I was right.”

“What did you expect?”

“The Croan bastards are preparing large-scale magic.”

Balun tilted his head.

Large-scale magic?

“It must be their own trump card, meant to wipe us out.”

“I see.”

“I do not know what magic it is, but if that magic activates, we will be in considerable trouble. So, Balun, I want you to deal with them.”

“Are you telling me to go kill the mages?”

“Exactly.”

Balun looked dumbfounded.

So I do well once, and now they’re trying to make me handle special operations too.

“Ah, you do not need to worry. I am not telling you to do it alone. I will assign people to you. However, you will be serving as the leader.”

‘No, why is he stating something so obvious? Does it make any sense to do that alone? Of course he has to give me people.’

Balun suppressed the inner thought that was about to burst out on its own and spoke.

“Before I accept, I have a condition.”

“What is it?”

“You grant one request of mine.”

“A request. Very well. What request?”

“I heard that among your acquaintances, there is someone called the Red Sage. Is that true?”

“If you mean Red Sage Borvael, I do have a personal connection.”

“Good. Introduce me to that person. Then I will accept your proposal.”

At Balun’s words, Count Monteki hesitated for a moment. The Red Sage’s name carried no ordinary weight.

Enough that even introducing Balun, who had rendered merit, made him hesitate.

But his deliberation did not last long.

“Well, fine. I will be generous. I can grant you that much. As soon as this war ends, I will introduce you to Lord Borvael. Satisfied?”

“Good!”

When Balun nodded in satisfaction, Count Monteki asked.

“By the way, why are you looking for Lord Borvael?”

“Ah, I just want to ask something.”

“Ask something......?”

“Yeah. It’s something like career counseling. Or maybe not? Should I call it a health checkup?”

Count Monteki could not understand so much as an eye-crust’s worth of what Balun meant.