The Swordmaster Who Leapt Through Time

Ch. 38


Chapter 38: Tomorrow

“Hey, this new Count… isn’t he actually super strong?!”

“Of course he is! He killed that Count Kxias.”

“No, but I heard he barely won back then. This time, they said he knocked that Zahir out cold in a single strike.”

The incident that happened that morning had spread around the entire city in less than thirty minutes.

“Yaaahhh! Big news! Big news! Count Ransen knocked down Lord Zahir of a Hundred Victories with a single blow!!”

Behind it was the tearful devotion of a certain warrior who spread the rumor faster and more widely than anyone else.

Since many people had gathered in Kushan City, there were all sorts of eccentrics around.

“W-what?!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Hey! I’ll pay for your drinks, so come over here and tell us in detail!”

The warriors, shocked by such earth-shaking news, pressed for answers.

Gulp! Gulp! Gulp!

The man picked up whatever glass was in front of him, downed it in one go, then immediately opened the shop’s door to leave.

“If you want details, ask someone else. I’m busy.”

He kicked the door open and ran out, shouting again.

“Aaahhh! Count Ransen knocked out Lord Zahir of a Hundred Victories with the hilt of his sword!! That means, if he’d wanted, he could have taken his head toooo!!”

He was the so-called rumor maniac.

A man who lived only to spread rumors.

On the other hand, there were those who were dead serious about it.

“All I can say is that it was an incredible move.”

“I didn’t even see a preparatory motion.”

“Preparatory motion? Hmph. Is that all you managed to catch?”

“What?!”

“It wasn’t just at the level of lacking a preparatory motion. There was no killing intent, no sign of drawing up Aura. But even that was secondary. Do you know what the real thing was?”

“W-what was it?”

“His gaze.”

“His gaze!”

“As long as you’re human, intent is revealed in your eyes. But not Count Ransen. His eyes had no intention to attack at all. They were innocent. And then suddenly, as if in a spasm, his arm shot out. No… it was almost as if the sword itself moved on its own….”

As the sharp-eyed warrior laid out his analysis, the others gathered around the table murmured.

“Ooooh…!”

“You’re really amazing!”

Then, a dark-skinned warrior who had been sitting quietly at the corner of the table spoke up.

“That makes sense. But that wasn’t all. Did anyone here notice Count Ransen’s footwork?”

“Footwork?”

“Yeah. Normally, when a person throws a punch, the step comes first. But the Count was different. His hand went first. His feet didn’t even move—only his body leaned forward. As if he were dangling from the sword itself.”

“That’s…!”

“Even so, the strike carried its full power. An attack that transcended form. That was truly the formless martial way!”

“!!!”

“You—you’re amazing too!”

“Such an incredible analysis!”

Praise poured down again.

Among them, the two warriors who had shown sharp analysis exchanged glances.

“You… you’re pretty good.”

“Heh. You too.”

While some warriors bonded over their keen eyes and shared knowledge, others were far more simple.

“Strong! Count Ransen is strong!”

“At this rate, isn’t he as strong as Haarun, the Storm King?!”

“Hey now, that’s going too far!”

“Even if not, I doubt anyone less than one of the Five Kings could face him.”

“That’s true.”

Meanwhile, some warriors who loved politics were busy analyzing the balance of power.

“So what now, does this mean the Storm King and Ransen are going to clash? He beat up the emissary and drove him out, didn’t he?”

“Wait, then the Storm Cavalry will come charging in here? Ugh! I’d better leave right away.”

“Not quite. To get here they’d have to pass through Kinalo, and the city of Kinalo wouldn’t just stand by and let that happen, right?”

“Ah, you’re right.”

“Still, he’s got guts.”

“Exactly. With the skill to drop Zahir in a single blow, and the nerve to treat the Storm King so lightly… I’ve changed my view of Count Ransen.”

People chattered this and that, but in the end, one thing was clear.

Charisma.

That power which made people acknowledge from the depths of their hearts that this existence was an extraordinary person, different from themselves.

That was now beginning to rise, quietly but surely, above the head of Ransen—who had only just become a Lord a little over a month ago.

*         *         *

Outside, the warriors seemed excited as though a festival had broken out, but inside the meeting room where we had gathered, the air was tense.

‘Because this is serious.’

Haarun, the Storm King, conqueror of Norberju, had demanded our submission, and I had rejected it with a single stroke. No wonder everyone’s minds were in turmoil.

I looked around at my younger siblings, Rivera, Kalserik, and Uncle Burson seated around the oval table.

What should I say first…

Right. I should make this clear before anything else.

“First, my siblings. I want to hear your opinions.”

Their gazes all turned toward me.

“My duty is to protect you. In that sense, fighting the Storm King is a heavy burden. Of course, since Kinalo still stands, there won’t be a fight right away. But… who knows what may happen in the future.”

I intended to do everything I could to prevent such a thing, but the future was uncertain.

If our efforts to hold him back failed and the Storm King captured the city of Kinalo?

Then it would only be natural for him to set his sights directly on our stronghold, Kushan City.

“If the situation turns for the worst, we may have no choice but to fight the Storm King. To be honest, I don’t think I’ll lose. But… I can’t promise that I’ll be able to protect all of your lives in the process. That’s… what I’m afraid of.”

That was why I wanted to ask.

Rather than deciding alone.

“If the worst comes to pass, what should we do?”

Should we fight?

Or should we submit?

When I finished asking, all my siblings stared at me with wide eyes.

Their gazes felt strangely…

‘Why… do they look like they think I’m pathetic?’

It really felt that way.

Even in Seklan’s eyes—Seklan, who was always polite—there was a trace of disappointment.

“Uncle.”

In the suffocating silence, the first to speak was seventeen-year-old Daisy.

…But she called me Uncle again.

“What are you even talking about? We’ve always lived with our lives hanging by a thread, and now you say this???”

Then, beside her, Seklan spread out his hands and began counting.

“Hmm… how many times have I brushed against death so far? Three times, five times… seven times….”

Twenty-year-old Seah fixed her eyes on me and dropped a single word.

“Insensitive.”

Zaltran, also twenty, spoke in a booming voice.

“No, Hyung! You’re not the only one with dreams! Didn’t you tell us we’re standing at the entrance to our dreams? With a mindset that timid, how can we possibly rebuild our kingdom and our family!”

Twenty-four-year-old Varen muttered to himself.

“Our house used to be a Marquis House… just because we split up some businesses in a small city like this doesn’t mean we’ve rebuilt the family….”

Twenty-two-year-old Jia, twenty-one-year-olds Luccrancer and Catch, twenty-year-old Asha, nineteen-year-old Mika, Gepetto… they all seemed to share the same thought.

“Even if he’s the Storm King… in the end, he’s just the boss of bandits….”

“Bowing our heads to someone like that isn’t cool at all….”

One by one, my siblings threw down their words.

And finally—

Twenty-five-year-old Katrina glared at me, her bright yellow eyes flaring like golden flames.

“Oppa.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t get it twisted.”

“Uh, okay?”

“Were you the only one who lost a country? The only one who lost family!?”

“…No.”

“Banroa isn’t something you carry alone. It’s our dream and our responsibility—all of us. Got it?”

“Uh….”

“A king is someone who weaves together the dreams of his people and leads them forward. He’s not just someone who clutches them to his chest and tries to protect them.”

She held my gaze for a long while as she finished slowly.

“So, Oppa. No—Your Highness Ransen Banroa. Lead us. Don’t just try to shield us. Lead us from the front.”

A heavy silence fell over the meeting room.

“Hkk….”

Uncle Burson, his eyes red, made a strange sound. …It seemed he was crying.

I thought I could understand that feeling.

Goodness, they’d grown well. All of them.

‘I really had it wrong.’

Since I’d been watching over these kids ever since Daisy was three years old, I kept seeing them as little ones.

But in truth, they had seen their elder brothers and sisters die, they had seen the knights who had once protected them perish one by one, and during the time I had been a broken man, they had survived on their own in the dangerous back alleys of Kushan City. They were proper warriors.

They had fought alongside me when I killed Kxias, and they had carried out the purges with me… true warriors indeed.

With all sorts of emotions swirling in my chest, I looked at each of my siblings one by one before finally breaking away.

When I turned to the side, I saw Rivera and Kalserik staring wide-eyed.

Up until now, the fact that we were of Banroa’s bloodline had been a secret.

But at this point, I didn’t think it mattered anymore.

It had already been fourteen years since then, so I judged the Empire’s pursuit wouldn’t be too strict, and more than that, I wanted to be truthful with my vassals.

‘If worst comes to worst, I may have to ask them to fight against the Storm King. To keep hiding it would be discourteous.’

Meeting their surprised eyes, I asked bluntly.

“That’s how it is. What do you two think?”

Rivera rubbed his wide eyes and answered.

“I thought you were distinguished, but to think you were the royal and noble children of Banroa itself?”

I shrugged once.

Rivera shook his head lightly, then rose to his feet and saluted in military fashion.

“Well, I have no such secrets to confess. I am Rivera Pietro of the House of Pietro, descended from the Windbarrow Kingdom that perished three hundred years ago. When My Lord executed Kxias, I had already entrusted my life to you. I am prepared to obey any command without hesitation.”

Well, that was exactly the sort of answer I expected from you.

I signaled my thanks to his bright smile with a glance, then turned to Kalserik.

In truth, he was the most uncertain of them all.

He had joined my side not out of loyalty but out of pragmatism.

So now, where did his scales tip? Toward the risk of fighting the Storm King, or toward the benefits he could claim for himself?

“Whoa… is this a confessional about our backgrounds or something? I don’t really know about that, but… I’ll ask one thing, Lord.”

“Speak.”

“Can you really beat Haarun? They say he isn’t a Grandmaster, but he’s evaluated to be close. A monster who long ago surpassed the Swordmaster level.”

“To be honest, I’m not confident.”

“Whaaat—??!!?!”

Good grief, he nearly jumped out of his seat. Why so shocked?

Kalserik demanded almost accusingly.

“In this situation, is it right for you to say you’re not confident?!”

“…When did I ever say I’d lose? I just said I wasn’t confident.”

“That’s the same thing…!”

I’d only been joking, but it ended up making things awkward….

Late though it was, I hurried to patch things up.

“I meant I’m not confident I’ll lose. Not that I’m confident I’ll lose.”

“Ah….”

Kalserik looked at me with eyes that had gone cold.

I deliberately avoided his gaze and asked,

“Let me flip the question. Do you think I’d lose?”

Kalserik had seen my skills up close.

Wasn’t he the very man who once fell to his knees and begged for his life?

And during this latest demonic beast subjugation, I’d cut down several notorious large-class beasts right in front of his eyes.

Perhaps because of that—

“…Right? Honestly, I can’t even imagine it. The idea of you losing to anyone, Lord….”

Kalserik gave a bitter smile, then rose from his seat.

“I am Digor Kalserik, Second Commander of the Royal Kalserik Knights of the Sallet Kingdom, which perished sixty years ago. I entrust my life and the lives of my brothers to My Lord, so please return them to me doubled.”

A loyalty oath asking for double repayment… how very mercenary-like.

Still, the Royal Kalserik Knights of the Sallet Kingdom?

When I kept staring at him, he scratched his head.

“Well, since everyone’s confessing their origins, I figured I’d join in… it’s nothing much. My father was the Commander of the Kalserik Knights, and when the kingdom fell, he led the entire order across to Roberland. To be honest, it was a knight order made up of commoners, so we don’t even have a proper noble house.”

As he went on explaining, Kalserik’s face flushed red from embarrassment, and he quickly changed the subject.

“Ah, so what do you plan to do now?!”

I gave a small laugh and answered.

“Since the Storm King is moving like that, we need to hurry too.”

“Hurry… meaning?”

“We take Kashu City as soon as possible.”

At my reply, everyone started showing eagerness.

“Oh, when’s the sortie?”

“To reorganize the army we’d need at least two days, so three days from now? Something like that?”

“No, no. To replenish all the supplies we used up, we’ll need at least a week…”

“Wouldn’t that be too late?”

Each of them threw out their own estimates—three days, a week—as they tried to lay down plans.

It was only this morning that we had returned from a week-long beast subjugation, so naturally they were factoring in the time for reorganization.

‘Haah….’

It felt like dousing them with cold water, and I really didn’t want to say it, but there was no helping it.

“Tomorrow.”

Everyone’s eyes snapped to me.

“Huh?”

Didn’t hear me? Fine, I’ll spell it out.

“Sound the emergency bell right now. Assemble all troops and deliver the order.”

“W-wait, are you serious?”

At times like this, I had to be firm.

“Yes. The 1st Regiment will march. Pack your gear again and muster at 8 a.m. tomorrow.”

“O… heavens….”

Kalserik, the Deputy Commander of the 1st Regiment who had just returned from today’s subjugation, wore the face of a man who’d lost his country.

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