Chapter 83
Had Verpin survived?
Had Kavar and Marquis Baltimo taken control of the Mercenary Guild?
“I did my best… but I don’t know if he survived.”
Various thoughts complicated my mind.
Climbing the cliff wasn't entirely impossible for Karl.
By driving stakes into the cliff crevices and connecting ropes, I could climb while resting.
It would take some time, but it wasn't impossible.
However.
‘Resting a little might be good…’
Each event Karl had experienced since returning to the West Continent was something most knights would find difficult to encounter even once in their lifetime.
Physically and mentally exhausted, it was a time when a little rest was needed.
The environment at the bottom of the cliff wasn't particularly good, but it wasn't bad either.
Taking out the sleeping bag and various equipment I carried for outdoor camping from the subspace into the cave, I actually felt it was quite nice.
After eating the warm stew, Karl buried himself in the sleeping bag, forgot everything happening in the world, and fell into a deep sleep.
For the first time in a long while, without dreaming anything, Karl slept for quite a long time.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Karl, who had been deeply asleep, opened his eyes to the sound of water dripping from somewhere.
‘Water?’
I thought water would be hard to come by and planned to conserve the water in the subspace.
Karl jumped up and moved towards the source of the sound.
There, water dripping from the cave ceiling formed a small spring, and just before the spring overflowed, there was an opening on one side of the cave where the water flowed out.
After quenching his thirst there for a while, Karl moved his body around.
Thanks to the potion, sleep, and his body's natural recovery rate, his body had recovered to some extent already.
Having checked his condition, Karl slowly walked along the bottom of the canyon.
There was no path to walk out.
To get out, the only way was to climb that high cliff eventually.
While doing so, near the end of the canyon floor, he discovered sword marks covering the cliff face.
‘Is this it….’
Karl approached the sword marks.
The sword marks carved into the cliff were so deep, wide, and numerous that it was questionable whether they were made by a human.
Their sizes varied, making it unclear whether they were created by one person or several.
‘There, swung a bit shallower, then advanced and cut, turned back, rotated, and once more.’
At some point, Karl found his body moving along with the sword marks, following them.
The initially chaotic sword marks began to converge into several concise movements as they reached the cave.
‘…!’
The endless chain of sword marks suddenly ended.
And at that final spot, a single line was carved.
At first glance, it looked like a single stroke, but that one mark contained countless slashes.
In a single breath, the same spot was cut over 7 times.
It was truly swordsmanship bordering on the mystical.
The enlightenment Mercenary King Bahamut had accumulated throughout his life was here, beneath this cliff.
Even if I focused everything to execute the sword form, I wondered if I could even replicate it up to 3 times.
Karl returned to the end of the canyon floor where the first sword marks began and started retracing them.
***
Two months had passed since the Knight of the Lighthouse disappeared.
The Mercenary Guild headquarters appeared unchanged on the outside, but looking inside, it was slowly rotting away.
“What on earth are you doing?”
“They say you met privately with Verpin several times back then.”
Though his tone was feigning composure, madness lurked in Kavar’s eyes.
“Lord Kavar, how long have we been together, yet you doubt me?”
“Then why suggest promoting Ark, who was close to Verpin?”
“Was there anyone who wasn't close to Lord Verpin?”
“…What do you mean by that?”
“…My apologies.”
Turk, who had spent a long time as a mercenary under Kavar, momentarily swallowed hard seeing his suddenly changed gaze.
Kavar was not normal.
His obsession and suspicion, bordering on madness, intensified day by day.
Verpin was missing, and the Knight of the Lighthouse who helped him had fallen down the cliff.
Despite this, his leader couldn't sleep properly each night, and the dark circles under his eyes grew darker.
‘…Did the Mercenary King truly….’
He had followed his leader, wanting to trust the man he had spent his life with, but the Mercenary King’s death was clearly Kavar’s doing in anyone's eyes.
Just as one cannot hide the sky with one's palm, the world was pointing fingers at his leader.
In Turk’s view, Kavar’s downfall was not far off.
“What’s with that look?
What are you thinking?”
“…I will take my leave.”
As he turned to leave Kavar’s office, a glass flew past him.
Smash!
The glass hit the wall and shattered, a fragment grazing Turk’s cheek.
“Answer me!
Am I!
This Kavar!
A traitor who killed his master!
Killed his brothers!
And seized this position!”
Turk remained silent and left the office.
“Answer!
Answer me!”
His steps lacked energy as he walked away trudgingly.
Turk unconsciously touched his cheek.
The stinging sensation seemed to make his mind clearer.
He snapped his fingers, and a subordinate approached his side.
“We need to find Lord Verpin.
The Knight of the Lighthouse too.”
***
“…No matter how much I search, there’s no way down the Abyss Cliff.
There are also no records of anyone returning alive from there.”
“…Keep looking.
There must be some way.”
Sancho, too, was not smiling now.
“There’s no way he died so pointlessly.
He’s overcome crises far worse than this several times.
Does it make sense that he died just from falling off a cliff?”
“…I will look for a way again.”
Sancho bowed his head and left Anne’s room.
Though he said he’d look for a way, he had already considered all possibilities.
That canyon was a place where falling meant certain death.
“…Hmph.”
On the other hand, Sancho also found it difficult to believe Karl was dead.
Even though he fell down a cliff whose bottom no one knew, somehow, he felt Karl would return alive.
‘Yes, he will definitely return.’
Sometimes, intuitive feelings were more important than common sense.
Sancho believed his intuition was quite accurate.
***
“Hoo…!”
Flash!
Karl’s eyes, which had been meditating while looking at the wall containing the 7 slashes, opened.
Simultaneously, he let out a deep breath.
He didn’t know how much time had passed, but during that time, Karl had become able to execute a total of 5 slashes in a single breath.
The sword marks extending from the beginning to the end of this cliff were traces left by a single sword art, and Karl learned the swordsmanship left on the cliff by tracing the sword path countless times.
Based on the learned swordsmanship, he continuously swung his sword, striving to reach the achievement the Mercenary King had attained—7 strikes in a single breath.
Despite swinging his sword so diligently, he had only managed 5 strikes so far.
‘Is this the limit for now?’
Looking back at the cliff imbued with Mercenary King Bahamut’s spirit, Karl lightly bowed his head.
Although he hadn't completed it, learning the swordsmanship carved into the cave allowed Karl’s realm to advance another step.
After reaching the realm of Master, Karl felt that the horizons of swordsmanship had paradoxically opened up infinitely.
‘It was precious time.’
The peace of mind and body, along with the training, allowed Karl to adapt more completely to the realm of the sword called Master.
“Is it about time to go?”
Karl lifted his head once, lowered it, and then, at some point, began to climb the cliff.
The Aura Step, practiced as much as swordsmanship while at the bottom of the cliff, unfolded dazzlingly.
[Karl Meyer Style. Movement Technique: Soar]
Kicking off the ground, Karl began to ascend straight up the cliff.
The people of this world had a relatively low understanding of movement techniques like Shinbeop or Bobeop.
Perhaps because they often used techniques closer to heavy swordsmanship and frequently utilized horseback riding, the development of footwork was relatively slower.
Compared to the knights of this world, Karl could be seen as a mutation.
He could create techniques on a completely different level from the movement skills typically used by the knights of this world.
As if proving his efforts, Karl ran up the cliff face without falling, sticking to the wall.
Despite this, the canyon was deep.
Only when his Qi was nearly depleted could he barely see the outside.
“No way…!
Sir Karl…!?”
Just as Karl used the last drop of Qi to barely step onto the ground outside the cliff, a familiar face appeared before him.
Sancho, with tears streaming down his face, ran towards Karl, who looked like a disheveled wild man with a bushy beard.
“Hm.”
Just as Sancho, with an emotional face, was about to embrace him tightly, Karl took a step sideways.
“Ahem… ahem.”
Sancho, feeling awkward, waved his hands in the air a few times and then turned back towards Karl.
“I believed you would return alive, Sir.”
“Verpin?”
Skipping the greetings, Karl asked bluntly, and Sancho clicked his tongue before continuing his answer.
“He was doing well.
Though there is a slight problem.”
“Problem?”
“Today… Lord Verpin led the mercenaries loyal to him and headed towards Kavar.”
Although Verpin had many mercenary friends here and there, confronting Kavar with just that number was close to suicide.
Perhaps he judged that attacking him would become more disadvantageous as time passed and decided to move.
“Can I get a horse?”
Grin.
Sancho smiled and pointed behind him.
Karl saw the horse Sancho pointed at and smiled back.
Wheeeeee!
At his whistle, the standing horse galloped vigorously, stopped in front of Karl, and nuzzled its mane against him.
“Long time no see, Silver.
Let’s go for a run!”
“Are you going to Lord Verpin?”
Karl nodded once and was already galloping towards the distance.
***
Where did it all go wrong?
Verpin, having become a fugitive and left the Mercenary Guild, hid in a safe house, staring blankly out the window.
‘Sir Karl….’
It had already been a month and a half since he heard the news that Karl had fallen into the Canyon of Death while luring Baltimo’s troops.
The sorrow over his master’s death.
The grudge against Kavar.
The guilt towards his subordinates, comrades, and additionally, towards Karl.
Various thoughts and emotions tormented Verpin.
What should he do?
His foundation had already collapsed, making revenge against Kavar difficult.
Even if he declared his cause, would other mercenaries truly respond?
Due to various worries, Verpin couldn't even sleep properly.
The title of Mercenary King was actually not important to him at all.
He simply wanted to live happily.
He thought it would be fine if he did nothing.
However, from the moment he became the Mercenary King’s disciple, perhaps the choice of doing nothing was impossible.
‘Instead, I enjoyed many things during that time.’
Perhaps Verpin had enjoyed rights without responsibility all this time.
Of course, as a mercenary, he had accepted requests and carried them out to the best of his ability, so it wasn't just enjoyment, but it was also true that he had ignored the kind of trial he was facing now, which was bound to come because he was the Mercenary King's disciple.
Verpin’s wavering eyes gradually found focus after a long time.
‘I can’t stay like this.’
Karl had also sacrificed himself for him, so what was Verpin himself doing here?
“I can only fight.”
He made his decision.
He no longer wavered.
If he had to become the Mercenary King to right the wrongs, then so be it.