TLed by NolepGuy
Chapter 66
One afternoon, in an open clearing.
A woman was swinging her sword.
A woman with distinctively short, tied hair, interwoven with black and golden strands.
Each time her sword slashed forward, the sound of it cutting through the air resounded clearly.
In that moment, amidst the sound of the blade, a single footstep echoed.
“Wow, you’re at it every day. No wonder you made it into the Masters, huh?”
At the same time, a man with a protruding belly and a sly grin emerged from somewhere.
However, despite his appearance, the woman continued swinging her sword in silence.
The man, unbothered, plopped himself onto a chair provided in the training ground.
“Or is it that you challenged Nakcheon, got beaten, and now you swing your sword endlessly to forget about it?”
At that moment, the woman’s sword came to an abrupt halt.
Lakradiyon, the woman hailed as the Light of the Demonic Bastion.
And the only person in the Demonic Bastion to have set foot at the entrance of the Master level.
Beads of sweat poured down like rain as her gaze slowly shifted toward the man with the protruding belly.
Her eyes were filled with displeasure, but the man merely chuckled at her reaction.
“Don’t glare at me like that with those pretty eyes. You’ll make my heart flutter.”
“Derrick, are you here to pick a fight? The spot where I hit you last time for your nonsense must not have fully healed yet.”
“No, I came because I heard something that might make our Lakradiyon get all worked up. Unless you’ve already heard it?”
Derrick, as he was called, let out a hearty laugh and rummaged through his pocket.
Then, with a flick of his wrist, he sent a paper airplane flying toward Lakradiyon.
Lakradiyon caught the paper airplane and unfolded it.
It didn’t take her long to realize it was a public notice.
“Apparently, a direct descendant of Balheim is challenging Nakcheon. They’re recruiting companions for the endeavor.”
“…And what does that have to do with me?”
“Rak, it means you might not even get the chance to challenge him again before it’s all over.”
Lakradiyon’s eyebrow twitched.
Then, with a sharp rip, she tore the paper and carelessly tossed it onto the ground.
“It’s none of my business.”
Derrick, who had been watching her silently, let out a sigh.
“Sigh, Rak, I know. That day you lost to Nakcheon, I know exactly how you felt. That guy is a disaster. A monster. And I know all too well that the reason you’ve been swinging your sword alone all this time is because you want to surpass that monstrosity.”
With those words, Derrick stood from his seat.
“But how long are you planning to let Nakcheon chain you down? That’s just stubbornness, Rak. If it’s you, you could move on to a much wider world.”
Derrick was once her comrade.
It pained him to see her bound by the disaster that was Nakcheon, living like this.
“Take this opportunity to think about it. If you see that enormous figure of Nakcheon in your heart finally crumble, wouldn’t your perspective change a bit too?”
With those parting words, Derrick left.
Lakradiyon watched his retreating figure in silence, her gaze eventually landing on the torn public notice.
So Nakcheon would be defeated?
Lakradiyon let out a hollow laugh.
Unfortunately, Derrick’s words were not going to come true.
More than mere skill, Nakcheon was truly like a ghost.
Just as she couldn’t bring him down no matter how much she trained, she believed Balheim would ultimately meet the same fate.
‘…I’ve only interrupted my training for nothing.’
With the thought that it had only soured her mood, she resumed her training once more.
Time passed, and before she knew it, night had fallen.
As always, after practicing with her sword until late into the night, she wiped the sweat from her brow.
Growl-
Her stomach grumbled, signaling it was time to eat.
Thus, she headed to her usual room to freshen up briefly before visiting her regular dining spot.
“Puhaha! That kid sitting there with his butler like a statue—it was hilarious!”
“Knocking down Nakcheon is something for our Pendalord, not some random outsider like Balheim. Right, boss?”
“Of course.”
At that moment, raucous voices echoed from inside the restaurant, making Lakradiyon’s brow furrow.
‘So there are early birds here even when I’m just trying to have a late dinner.’
Well, it made sense. This restaurant served the best food in the Demonic Bastion.
It wasn’t strange for others to be here besides her.
The only issue was that it was a gang she didn’t particularly get along with.
A group gathered around Pendal, the strongest among the Experts, known as Pendalord.
Simply naming the team after himself showed just how high his self-esteem was.
To be fair, it was somewhat justified.
Within the Demonic Bastion, Pendal practically ruled like a king.
“Hm?”
As Lakradiyon entered, Pendal’s gaze turned toward her.
His gray hair and the wolf tattoo, the symbol of Pendalord, were faintly visible under his shirt.
His face was flushed red, likely from drinking too much.
At the sight of Lakradiyon, Pendal smirked.
“Well, if it isn’t Miss Lakradiyon? Have you been training somewhere again today?”
Lakradiyon ignored him and walked further inside.
As she sat in her usual spot, Pendal rose from his seat with a sly grin.
“Come on, don’t be so cold. Let’s chat for a bit. We used to be comrades, after all.”
Holding a bottle of alcohol, Pendal casually approached and sat next to Lakradiyon, undeterred by her indifference.
“You heard the news, didn’t you? Apparently, a direct descendant of Balheim is challenging Nakcheon. And to think, even the Light of the Demonic Bastion hasn’t taken him on yet.”
“…”
“And the challenger is apparently just a kid who hasn’t even reached adulthood. He’s been running wild, acting as if he owns the place.”
The Pendalord gang had already moved quickly to intervene.
They warned others not to respond to Balheim’s notice for recruits.
Though it was something his subordinates had done on their own, Pendal didn’t stop them, nor did he care to.
He, too, found it annoying that someone like Balheim was stirring up trouble in the Demonic Bastion.
“…The owner of the Demonic Bastion?”
At that moment, Lakradiyon finally spoke.
Her icy gaze slowly turned toward Pendal, who had been rambling on his own.
The sharp intensity in her eyes was enough to make even Pendal hesitate.
“Where exactly is this so-called owner? Pendal, you were there with me that day—you experienced Nakcheon firsthand. And yet, here you are, still boasting about merely reaching the 8th floor of the Demonic Bastion?”
Lakradiyon was at the entrance of the Master level.
She was already thirty.
In this vast world with a population in the billions, fewer than a four-digit number ever reached the Master level, despite dedicating their lives to training.
And more than half of those who do reach it remain stuck at the entrance, unable to move forward.
The leap from the peak of Expert to Master was steep.
But the path from the entrance of Master to its intermediate stage was even steeper.
Meanwhile, Pendal was still at the peak of Expert.
Thanks to a few unique conditions, he could barely match Lakradiyon, but he was still struggling to even step into the realm of Master.
For someone like him to act as if he owned the Demonic Bastion was absurd.
“Oh, really? And what’s changed between you and me since that day?”
Lakradiyon’s lips pressed into a tight line at Pendal’s question.
Pendal had long since stopped advancing, spending the past five years building up the Pendalord gang, acting as if he ruled the Demonic Bastion.
Meanwhile, Lakradiyon, still unable to let go of her sword, remained unmarried and spent her days tirelessly training.
Even after all those days of swinging her sword since that day, Lakradiyon was still at the entrance of the Master level.
And Pendal, who had spent those years focusing on his gang, was still at the peak of Expert, just as he had been that day.
Neither of their levels had changed.
“Isn’t this wretched reality proof that no matter what we do, it’s all the same in the end?”
Lakradiyon lowered her gaze.
Even if others considered it the revered domain of Masters.
Those who actually reached the Master level knew.
That climbing beyond it was reserved only for true geniuses.
Lakradiyon had hit a wall before that point.
“Rak, get a grip. No matter how hard we try, you and I are trapped in this Demonic Bastion. A place we can never escape from, forever.”
Pendal said this as he picked up the bottle of alcohol he had placed on the table.
“…Even so.”
In that moment, Lakradiyon’s lips parted once more.
“I will keep swinging my sword.”
Seeing this, Pendal shrugged with a deflated expression.
“Ah, sure, go ahead.”
Thinking it was such a waste of effort, Pendal turned back toward his spot.
He intended to drink with his gang again as usual.
But when he returned to his spot, he noticed something strange—his gang was unusually quiet.
Just as he felt puzzled by this realization, someone came into his view.
Someone now sitting in the seat he had occupied just moments ago.
“Done with your little chat?”
“You.”
The moment Pendal saw him, he began to slowly realize his identity.
That black hair and blue eyes.
It was undeniable.
Kraush Balheim.
The direct descendant of the Balheim lineage, who had reportedly come seeking the Demonic Bastion.
Pendal’s brow furrowed deeply.
Judging by that relaxed demeanor and the way he was looking at him, Kraush seemed to know everything.
‘This brat, he’s figured out that I interfered.’
Pendal sauntered over to Kraush, his posture casual but deliberate.
Being about half a head taller than the still-growing Kraush, Pendal used his height to create an imposing presence.
“What business does the direct descendant of Balheim have here?”
At the mention of Balheim, Lakradiyon finally turned her attention in their direction.
Whether she did or not, Kraush nonchalantly rose from the chair.
“I’m generally a pretty merciful person.”
An abrupt statement dropped casually.
“But I have no mercy for those who get in my way.”
“Ha! So, you’re challenging me to a fight?”
Pendal’s face twisted into a mocking grin.
In Pendal’s eyes, Kraush was merely someone who had just set foot into the peak of Expert level.
For his age, he was undoubtedly a prodigy.
Well, of course.
He was a direct descendant of Balheim, after all.
But that also meant, conversely, that Kraush was currently beneath him.
There was a clear difference between someone who had just reached the peak of Expert level and someone who had accumulated experience there.
Even though Pendal had hit the wall of Master level, he stood just before it.
The gap between him and Kraush was obvious.
“An Expert-level prodigy isn’t common. You’d be more than qualified for the Balheim Knight Order.”
Amid Pendal’s intimidation, Kraush continued his words calmly.
As Pendal gave him a look, puzzled by what this boy was trying to say, Kraush’s lips curled into a smile.
“So, Pendal, I want to hire you into the Balheim Knight Order.”
Pendal hesitated for a moment.
The Balheim Knight Order.
Even if he ruled as a king within the Demonic Bastion, joining Balheim’s ranks was an entirely different story.
The Demonic Bastion would forever remain labeled as a den of thugs.
Time and again, Pendal had experienced knights of lower skill than himself treating him like a common rogue.
And yet, because of their family’s prestige, he couldn’t do anything about it.
But if he joined Balheim?
Those very knights who had looked down on him would all start looking up to him.
For a fleeting moment, greed flickered in Pendal’s eyes.
He had already gained all the force and wealth he could within the Demonic Bastion.
The only thing that could satisfy him now was the pursuit of honor.
“…Are you serious?”
“Yes, and you can bring your entire gang along.”
The mention of hiring even the members of Pendalord made Pendal swallow hard.
Seeing the greedy look in Pendal’s eyes, Kraush smiled slowly.
“We’ll call your knight order the Puppy Squad. After all, you’re good at barking like a dog.”
But the moment Pendal heard those words, his eyes froze in place.
At the same time, his face began to twist with growing fury.
“…Are you mocking me right now?”
Kraush, now devoid of any smile, turned to face him.
He found it disgusting—how Pendal had paraded around as king of the Demonic Bastion, only to lose his composure the moment Balheim’s offer appeared.
So he decided to make it crystal clear.
“Yes, I’m mocking you, you idiot.”
After all, provoking was his specialty.