Chapter 41: The Bet (8)
“Ha! I couldn't believe it, but it really is you!”
Philip Portville let out a hollow laugh.
It was absurd.
For the fellow who had caused such a commotion during the day to set foot in his family’s domain again.
And not even by visiting formally, but by sneaking in under the cover of night!
Separate from that, he also thought the fellow was remarkable.
Watching him continuously commit acts that an Ordinary Person could never dare to do, the thought that it was a waste came to him once more.
‘If only we could embrace such talent, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say the family would gain wings…….’
Of course, it was too late now.
That fellow had committed the grave sin of murdering Carbin Portville, a direct member of the Portville family, in broad daylight.
Overlooking this was impossible, even for Philip, who valued practical benefits over honor.
Killing him was the right thing to do.
However, separate from that, he couldn't endure his curiosity, so he asked.
“What on earth were you thinking, stepping back into the tiger’s den?”
“Is the Portville family a tiger’s den?”
“It’s the place where you will die, so it wouldn't be wrong to see it that way.”
“No. I didn’t come here to die.”
“That’s not for you to decide. It’s for the strong to decide.”
“Hmm……”
Harang, who had closed his mouth, stared intently at Philip Portville.
Seeing that, the Family Head frowned.
It was strange.
The eyes were like windows to the soul, implicitly revealing the opponent’s emotions or thoughts, but that young fellow showed no sign of his inner self.
And that made him feel displeased.
‘Fellows of that age are usually so simple that their minds are easily read.’
It felt like facing a middle-aged master who had gone through all sorts of hardships.
However, that couldn't be.
Unless he had been thrown onto a battlefield since the age of five, such a thing was impossible.
As the Family Head was having such thoughts about the young man before him, Harang, who had been silent for a few seconds, opened his mouth again.
Its content was completely different from what Philip Portville had expected.
“Let’s make a promise.”
“A promise?”
“Yes, a promise. Of course, since it can be broken, let's stake something important. Stake Portville’s 100-year history and honor and promise not to touch me or the Eddy Family.”
“……What? What did you just say?”
Philip asked back as if he had misheard.
Harang, thinking he had been a bit hasty, added an explanation.
“About half a year ago, I had a run-in with a gang of thugs called Travion. Their Underboss tried to kill my friend, so I took action. I snapped his neck and killed him.”
“……”
“But, holding a grudge over that, the Boss sent an assassin. After I dealt with the assassin, they started firing crossbows, and dozens of them drew their swords to fight me alone… It was very tiring. I wanted to resolve it with words, you know.”
“What is it you want to say?”
“It means I thought you, too, would hold a grudge like them. Whether you order your children or step forward yourself… Am I wrong?”
“So, you came all this way to prevent that?”
“Exactly.”
“……”
“And this time, I don’t intend to use words. Hoo, it’s tiring talking so much after a long time.”
Having said this much, Harang drew his sword.
Srrreung, the blade, looking darker than usual as if it had absorbed the darkness, revealed itself, exuding a menacing aura.
However, Philip Portville was not one to feel threatened by such a display.
He asked, sounding dumbfounded.
“Are you saying you came here to kill me now?”
“No.”
“No?”
“Yes. Even if I kill you, will the people under you stay quiet? I thought about it carefully, and I don’t think so. In the past, I might have done that, but now that I’ve experienced society a bit, I’ve come up with a better way.”
“And what is this better way?”
“To show an overwhelming difference in skill.”
There was no hesitation.
Harang casually brought up a story that some might consider absurd, and then continued with his explanation.
“To engrave in your mind that I can kill you anytime, that if I just decide to, taking your head is no big deal. Because of that, to make you feel fear and dread just by thinking of me, of the Eddy Family… To make you so terrified that you wouldn't even want to get involved, to the point where you have no choice but to accept the proposal I offer.”
“……”
“That is what I think is the best way.”
Those were his final words.
In the darkness where not even the moon was present, Harang drew his sword from its sheath.
Srrreung, along with the chilling sound, Harang’s expression was as cold as the appearing blade.
It was not merely a pretense to appear so, but a coldness like metal, layered over many years of living as Godok.
Of course, the Portville Family Head facing this was no pushover either.
Harang’s words, which might have instilled fear in some, instead became fuel that fanned the flames of his anger.
Heh heh heh, letting out an irritated laugh, he glared at the black-haired young man and said.
“Looking at you now, you’re not bold, you’re a madman. A completely stark-raving madman.”
He had no choice but to say that.
Who was he?
He was a master of the sword, possessing talent counted among the best in the history of the great Portville family.
He was an absolute powerhouse who had reached the level of an Expert, a realm others couldn't enter even with a lifetime of effort, and had even transcended that to reach the level of a Graduate.
And yet, against someone like him, what was this brat going on about?
A brat who might or might not even be twenty years old yet?
“Insolent fellow……!”
Sreung
Wooooong-!
He could endure it no longer.
It was the limit.
It was too much.
It felt like his current anger would not subside until he ripped that mad fellow’s mouth to shreds.
Having finished his thoughts, Philip Portville imbued his sword with energy.
Then, a heat-haze-like, grayish-white Aura shimmered on the blade like a mirage.
It didn't end there.
Woowoong!
Woong- Woooowoong-!
A more intense vibrating sound echoed.
Accordingly, the nature of the Aura began to change little by little.
Denser.
Higher in density.
Harder, and sharper!
As if a haphazardly unraveled skein of thread transformed into a well-woven woolen fabric, the energy fluttering around the sword was reborn into the form of a precise blade.
It was as if a thin coating had been applied over the sword; although its volume was smaller than its previous form, the sense of pressure was amplified severalfold.
That was right.
This was indeed the appearance of a splendidly complete Aura Sword, which could be said to symbolize a Graduate.
It could be called the highest form of swordsmanship, capable of easily cleaving through an incomplete Aura Sword as if cutting a radish.
“Hoo-eup……”
“……”
Philip Portville took a deep breath.
The muscles of his entire body tensed appropriately, preparing to sever the opponent’s neck.
The gleam radiating from his eyes was so chilling it seemed colder than the moon in the night sky.
However, Harang remained unchanged.
It wasn't quite like when he faced Carbin in the morning, but he was as composed as usual.
Of course, Philip was not one to lose his composure at such a sight.
His experience was too deep to fall for a brat’s provocation.
Pfft, responding to the opponent’s expressionless face with a sneer, he straightened his sword.
And then he shot forward with a speed as if blinking.
Shweeeek-!
The first was a thrust.
As the Aura Sword, aimed to pierce the center of his body, lunged forward, Harang pulled his right foot back and twisted his body.
Chwaaak, the sword grazed his chest.
Cold night air entered through the cut fabric.
That was when it began.
Fwoong-!
Fwoong-!
Fwoooong-!
A diagonal slash following the thrust, a vertical slash following the diagonal slash!
Harang’s clothes became tattered from the continuous attacks that flowed like water.
There wasn't a single spot left intact.
Simply dodging the blade was not enough.
Philip’s thrusts and slashes sharpened even the wind, making the attack range much wider and longer than it appeared.
If one misjudged the distance, it was dangerous enough for flesh to be instantly torn off and bones exposed.
The important point was that the speed of the sword was gradually increasing.
“Haaap!”
With a heated kiai, the Family Head’s sword bent at a right angle.
At the sword strike that seemed to pierce his Adam's apple then slashed to the right, Harang sharply bent his waist back, then folded forward again.
The wind grazing the nape of his neck was chillingly sharp.
Of course, that was not the end.
Despite being close to 90 years old, Philip showed no signs of tiring.
In the unending storm of sword strikes, Harang fluttered and scattered here and there like a single, delicate flower.
If an acquaintance of his had seen it, it was a situation so precarious they wouldn't even be able to open their eyes properly due to worry.
However.
“Why.”
Philip was the first.
“Why…… can’t I reach him?”
He stopped his sword.
“Why on earth, when there are so many openings…… why, why can’t I reach him!”
A voice like that of a wounded beast growling.
That wasn't all.
His bloodshot eyes and trembling hands spoke of his current psychological state.
At first, he hadn't even suspected.
Watching the opponent's movements, continuously dodging attacks by a hair's breadth, as if about to be hit but not quite, he had merely thought his momentary improvisation was good.
He firmly believed that if he increased his speed just a little, the opponent's hands and feet would get tangled, and his body would be skewered like a kebab, causing him to cough up blood.
However, he increased his speed, increased his Aura, increased his remaining strength…….
By the time he realized that even when using all his strength, chasing the hem of the fellow’s clothes was the best he could do.
Only then did he realize.
It wasn't that he had driven Harang into a corner, but that Harang had been matching his level, dodging attacks by a paper-thin margin.
‘Does this even make sense?’
He looked at the black-haired young man with eyes filled with bewilderment and shock.
He couldn't understand it at all.
The opponent was merely a 20-year-old swordsman, and a nobody from the streets at that.
On the other hand, he was the strongest in the Marzen area, having mastered the Secret Swordsmanship of a family with 100 years of history to its peak.
No, such trivial modifiers were unnecessary.
Graduate—this one word alone was sufficient to explain his strength.
But why.
Why.
How.
For what reason…….
‘Is the swordsmanship I’ve trained my entire life for not working against that fellow……!’
It was truly the height of absurdity!
What was even more absurd was that Harang, as reflected in his eyes, still seemed full of openings.
Of course, he knew.
That it was an illusion.
That everything he perceived as an opening was merely something Harang had intentionally exposed.
Therefore, he had no choice but to accept it.
He…….
Could not defeat this fellow.
“An overwhelming…… gap, I see.”
Philip Portville nodded his head.
It couldn't be helped.
It was a fact he didn't want to admit, but there were too many things in the world that one had to understand and move on from.
The old swordsman knew all too well that throwing a tantrum wouldn't solve anything, and that the world didn't always revolve around oneself.
Hahaha, he burst into laughter.
Admitting it made his chest feel clear.
Then, anger and irritation disappeared, and their place was taken by things like aspiration, curiosity, and a desire for achievement.
He opened his mouth.
“I’ve lost.”
“You admit it more easily than I thought?”
“Did you think I wouldn’t admit it then?”
“A little?”
“Hoo…… To think I appeared as such a person, it stings a bit. I’m not so foolish as to not know my place. And I’m certainly not so foolish as to not recognize the real deal when it’s right in front of me. If I were, I wouldn't have been able to maintain the position of Family Head at this age.”
“Hmm.”
“I will formally apologize. For not recognizing an unparalleled genius and continuously disrespecting you, for picking fights with your acquaintances…… I am sorry.”
Philip Portville offered words of apology with sincerity.
Since he came out like this, Harang had no reason to keep being stubborn.
He, too, bowed his head slightly and spoke soft words.
“I also feel sorry for killing Carbin. Thinking back, I think I might have been a little angry.”
“You’re not the one who killed that fellow. It was his temper……”
“Then, may I understand that you won’t touch the Eddy Family and go back?”
“If you grant me one last request, I will do so.”
“What is it?”
Harang tensed up a little.
Although this old man was more reasonable than Travion, there was something unpredictable about him.
He had felt it when the man tried to tie him down as an Adopted Son-in-law; he was definitely not an ordinary person.
Fortunately, his request was of a level that could be reasonably granted.
“Show me your full strength.”
“Hmm.”
“I won’t tell anyone. I’m just curious about what path the most talented young man I’ve encountered in my life is walking… what kind of sword he wields. That’s all.”
“Well, alright.”
Harang nodded his head.
This was quite reasonable.
He raised the sword he hadn't once used during the fight and gently closed his eyes.
And he reflected on his life.
“Hoo.”
He recalled the experiences he had accumulated in the village.
He recalled what he had learned from the old beggar.
He recalled the achievements he had gained from teaching the thugs…….
After recalling everything else that made him who he was now, he imbued it into his sword.
And slowly, very slowly, he brought it down vertically.
Fwoooong-!
The wind blew.
The sword wind, flowing slowly in keeping with the unhurried sword strike, soon reached the old man and ruffled his hair.
Harang, who had been watching that for a moment, bowed his head deeply and then disappeared.
“……”
The Family Head stood in the center of the training ground for a long time.
For a long, long time, he could not leave that spot.
* * *
A month after the bet with the Portville family.
When the thugs, astonished by training results that would make everyone flip out in surprise, were once again engrossed in physical training.
Harang, who was blankly watching the scene with Eddy, suddenly blurted out.
“We.”
“Yes, Big Brother.”
“Let’s quit being thugs, and become Mercenaries.”
“?”