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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Pot]
[Proofreader - Kawaii]
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Chapter 93: Young Master, You Never Ceases to Amaze Me
Mordecai’s attacks were truly ferocious.
‘Severing Strike!’
It was truly a trump card capable of instantly exploiting an opening even against an opponent stronger than himself.
This time, I entrusted myself to Karzan’s instincts, lifting one leg to evade the sword while swiftly blocking the upper attack.
My stance was awkward, but I didn’t have enough leeway to respond to a lower attack as well.
Clang! Clash!
Two metallic impacts sounded almost simultaneously.
‘Wow, I almost got unexpectedly injured just now.’
He’s definitely an enemy concealing sharp venomous needles. It would be dangerous to drag this out for too long.
‘Besides, I still don’t know how many of his allies are left in this mansion.’
If he had reinforcements nearby, that would also be dangerous.
‘Even amidst all this, what does it mean that Venion is still quiet?’
Does it mean there’s no significant danger, or is he willing to tolerate this much?
‘He wouldn’t just let me die, would he?’
Actually, I didn’t care. I was a man who didn’t easily fall prey to the Dark King’s pursuit.
“You blocked that?”
I praised the astonished Mordecai.
“That was good just now. I almost got my ankle grazed.”
I approached Mordecai, whose carefully planned Severing Strike had missed.
“Was it done like this?”
“!!!”
I copied the Severing Strike he had just used. Instead, I feinted twice with upper attacks, then aimed for his ankle with the real strike.
You could say it was an application with a different purpose than the original.
Thwack!
My intent was precise.
Having blocked the upper attacks exactly as he knew he should, Mordecai, unexpectedly and deeply cut in the ankle, hopped back pitifully on one foot.
“No, that’s wrong. I should have used my shoulder more flexibly just now. The footwork was also wrong. It’s a more difficult technique than I thought.”
Mordecai who was trembling asked me as I swung my sword in the air, examining myself.
“Wh-what did you just do? How did you…”
“What’s this technique?”
“Shut up! Who are you really? You’re not a Special Operations Division member!”
Unexpectedly, Mordecai was confused.
‘What’s wrong with this idiot now?’
Judging by his reaction, I suspected that the Severing Strike might be a technique commonly taught within a certain shadowy organization.
‘I’ll think about that later.’
I then used Karzan’s method while I was at it. This was a technique that capitalized on low internal energy and insufficient speed.
You could call it a flexible swordsmanship like infinitely extending branches without firm roots.
“What the hell is this…”
Mordecai only began to react after sustaining several cuts from the suddenly changed tactics. Considering his injured ankle, it was quite a struggle.
‘He’s quite something.’
In fact, that alone was worthy of praise. For him to react to Karzan's techniques meant that a 4th-tier powerhouse like him had begun to hone his own unique sword style.
‘But it’s too late.’
I sliced off Mordecai’s wrist, which had already slowed down from the bleeding, as if scything.
“Kuaaaack!”
Mordecai, having lost his right hand and dropped his sword, collapsed.
This was a method Karzan frequently used. It was a technique that required high concentration and wrist flexibility.
“Surrender?”
“Ha, damn it.”
Mordecai laughed hollowly.
"Looks like I really walked into it. Are all the Special Operations Division members from Grunewald this strong? Or did they really send someone from somewhere else?"
"Who knows."
I didn't give him an answer. It wouldn't be so bad for him to die believing he was defeated by a Special Operations Division member from Grunewald.
"Just who are you? Even if I'm going to die, I should at least know your identity—"
I lightly cut off Mordecai's question.
"Just think of it as running into your match."
Swoosh.
The man's head fell to the ground.
***
"You're truly amazing. I never imagined you'd bring about such a result."
After everything was over, Venion appeared with a smiling face.
"Please leave the cleanup to me."
I wiped the blood off with the towel Venion offered.
"Did you know everything?"
"No."
Venion replied immediately.
"However, I was considering the possibility."
"What if I had died or been injured?"
"Perish the thought. Something like that wouldn't have happened."
Venion smiled enigmatically.
"However, in actual combat, situations beyond expectations always arise, so I can't be certain."
I chuckled. The incantation of the Eternal Ocean Chain Technique awakened a rationality in me, as if ice water flowed through my veins instead of blood.
'Stay calm, Allenvert.'
My mind, which had been thoroughly excited by the fight, calmed down again. As I suppressed my aggression, I could also sense some intention of Venion.
"Since I've already passed your test, you must have believed that I wouldn't be in great danger against enemies of that level, right?"
"You're truly composed. That's right."
Venion grinned.
"More than anything, 'under normal circumstances,' a situation like this wouldn't have even occurred. At best, you would have purchased the tiara, and I would have later confirmed its authenticity through appraisal."
"That's good. It means I scored more than perfect."
"Of course."
Venion said with a peculiar expression.
"Young Master, you never ceases to amaze me."
***
Having given instructions for the aftermath, Venion sat on a low wall and chuckled.
“My, that’s quite something.”
He had been observing Allenvert’s actions from afar.
‘He blended into the atmosphere of the black market so skillfully and found an informant—that alone is commendable.’
Even more impressive was how he easily subdued the seasoned underworld figure’s attempts to haggle, successfully gaining his cooperation and even providing payment afterward.
‘If he had rashly resorted to violence, he would have ruined everything.’
Even with verbal threats, it would have been difficult to obtain information effectively.
Yet, to subdue him with just the right amount of force and then pay as promised, leaving no loose ends, was remarkably clean work.
‘Neither excessively lenient nor unnecessarily cruel.’
Of course, he himself would have instilled even more fear in that man, but that was fine.
Even finding the ‘right’ informant wasn’t something to be dismissed as mere luck.
It required the discerning eye and intuition to recognize whether the other party was bluffing or simply trying to extort money.
Therefore, when Allenvert secured cooperation from a reliable informant and passed the first hurdle too easily, Venion had nodded slightly.
‘Frankly speaking, this is a result that far exceeds expectations.’
It was strangely so.
‘Above all, he was in a situation with insufficient information and isolated in the heart of the enemy.’
Even so, Allenvert boldly led the conversation. His skill in provoking the other party and then appropriately appeasing them, shaking their emotions before finally confirming the item, was truly reminiscent of a veteran politician or a shrewd merchant.
How could a young master raised in a greenhouse display such talent? It wasn’t a matter of talent; the fact that the environment wasn’t conducive to cultivating such abilities was the more peculiar point.
‘He even thought to appraise whether the item was genuine or not.’
Suspecting it could be fake and remembering and recalling the clues he had casually left behind.
Using the subtle mana manipulation he learned from Ulbhild to easily complete the appraisal.
Everything was excellent. Venion hadn’t even expected that much.
‘What’s unexpected is what happened afterward.’
He could have found fault and broken off the deal, or he could have left, saying he would negotiate the price later.
But he never imagined he would immediately engage in combat.
‘He took a rather radical approach. It’s because he discerned that he wasn’t dealing with a simple collector but someone’s underling with other intentions, but….’
It was an extremely dangerous situation.
Venion judged that Allenvert had momentarily become agitated and prepared to intervene. But the astonishing scene started right after that.
‘He really fights well. Much better than his apparent skill level would suggest.’
Among them were enemies of the 2nd and 3rd tiers. A Royal Guard in such a situation would have made escape on his own impossible. Even with good luck, he might have lost at least an arm.
Even Mordecai had battle powers of the 4th tier and a hardened underworld swordsman.
‘At the very least, an elite Special Operations Division member or a captian of the Royal Guards would be needed to handle that situation.’
As a result, Allenvert not only annihilated the enemies on his own but also achieved victory against a 4th-tier powerhouse who was hiding his strength.
‘A boy who hasn’t even been practicing martial arts for a month? This is quite absurd.’
It was truly an achievement that surpassed ten years of progress. The word ‘genius’ was insufficient.
‘But it’s a shame he didn’t keep any of them alive to extract information.’
If it were him, he would have somehow…
No, that’s not right. Venion shook his head.
A shame? That was too harsh a thought. Simply retrieving the item was already a perfect score for the test.
The criteria for exceeding that score was, from the beginning, nothing more than an extra, created in anticipation of a 'level beyond measurement' in the unlikely event someone possessed such skill.
‘Mission execution ability, negotiation ability, problem-solving ability, combat ability.’
In every aspect, he was more than perfect. It was puzzling.
‘Goodness.’
He never imagined he would become a proctor giving such high marks.
“At this rate, he might seriously be able to compete with Young Master Verdzig.”
Of course, the situation was overwhelmingly disadvantageous for Allenvert. His current skill, time, influence, support from his in-laws—in every aspect.
But no one could predict what the future held.
***
Returning to the annex, Peter, Olivier, and Jeffrey were waiting for me, not having gone to sleep.
“Why aren’t you guys sleeping?”
“How could we possibly sleep?”
Jeffrey grumbled.
“Young Master, did anything happen?”
“It did. A whole lot.”
“Gasp.”
In the meantime, Olivier checked my body for any remaining injuries.
“Are you hurt anywhere?”
“Yeah. I think my knuckles got a little scraped from beating up some guys too much.”
“Who did you beat up?”
Peter asked.
“It’s too complicated to explain.”
I pondered for a moment.
“So, to put it simply, Venion gave me an assignment to buy a tiara from the black market that belonged to the head of the formerly destroyed Webern County… ‘Strong’? ‘Fierce’ uhh?”
“‘Strong’. Olivier corrected. As expected of a knowledgeable man, he seemed to know the name.
On the other hand, Peter and Jeffrey just blinked blankly.
“Right, ‘Strong’ Countess Ellicella wore it when she married the head of the Pergrin Clan. That was the assignment.”
“Hmm?”
Olivier’s eyes widened.
“That’s a peculiar assignment. Why was that?”
“To summarize it in one sentence, a survivor of that Clan is dreaming of revenge. And it seems they plan to wear their ancestor’s tiara and propose to their betrothed or lover on the day that revenge is completed.”
“Wow. That’s incredibly romantic.”
Peter exclaimed in admiration.
“It is romantic, but thanks to that, I had a really hard time.”
“It couldn’t have been an easy assignment. But I understand the intention. If you help restore the Webern County….”
Olivier nodded, as if he understood the political implications of the action.
“You seem to know something. Let’s talk about that again later.”
“Yes.”
“Anyway, to continue the story, I worked hard and finally found a guy selling that tiara.”
“Who was selling it?”
Peter’s eyes sparkled as if he were listening to an interesting fairy tale.
“There are guys called private collectors who trade expensive items in the black market of the underworld, you know?”
“Ah! I’ve heard stories about them.”
“But that bastard was a con artist selling a fake.”
Peter nodded as if he understood.
“Ah, so that’s why you beat them up?”
“The problem is, that bastard was a hidden 4th-tier swordsman with skills comparable to a Royal Guard, and on top of that, he had quite a few subordinates.”
“Gasp.”
“They tried to kill me, so I diligently beat them up, killed them, and then had a duel with the last remaining one and killed him too.”
“…You killed quite a lot of them.”
Peter said with a worried expression.
“That’s why the smell of blood is so strong.”
I thought of the seagulls at the Grunewald harbor that I had seen on my first day after waking from my long sleep.
Perhaps the seagulls would no longer approach me.
‘Killing is also a karma.’
The more I repeat it, the more it accumulates in my heart. No matter how evil the opponent is, just like the executioner’s heart is filled with the memories of killing, turning into nightmares.
…But I won’t make weak excuses now.
“I should go wash up.”
Even if I couldn’t do anything about the smell of blood buried in my heart, I wanted to wash off the blood on my body.
“Yes. I will prepare the bathwater immediately.”
“Good.”
I said to Olivier.
“When I come out after washing up, let’s talk more about that earlier story. I’m curious why helping the Webern Clan’s revenge is a necessary task for Grunewald.”
“Understood.”
A sword doesn’t need to understand its owner’s heart.
However, I no longer intend to live as someone else’s sword.
‘I’m done being someone who is swung around here and there without even knowing what they’re doing.’
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Pot]
[Proofreader - Kawaii]
Join our Discord for release updates!
https://discord.com/invite/dbdMDhzWa2
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