Chapter 049: Conviction (3)
As soon as I returned to the barracks, I urgently summoned the key figures, including Adeline.
The very idea that I, among all these Kingdom folk, was taking the lead in something was utterly absurd, but now wasn’t the time to indulge in such sentiments.
“Stationery… no, bring me writing tools.”
On the large sheet of paper Joel spread out, I meticulously recreated the scene I had witnessed earlier.
I first marked the current barracks and the location of the Mana Core, then filled in the hills and ridges between them, naturally forming a path.
Well, it was rough, but recognizable enough.
“In a gathering of Conwell’s valiant heroes, a young Imperial swordsman dares to act as commander? My lady, I truly wonder if this is wise. Please reconsider.”
I was so focused on the map that I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
Thanks to that, Kendrick’s sarcasm barely fazed me.
“Shh.”
It was Adeline beside me.
As if trying to match my rhythm, she even softened her breathing.
Tap.
I set down the quill.
The sound of footsteps entering the tent was gradually quieting.
Looking at those gathered, I spoke.
“Is everyone here?”
I hadn’t specifically called anyone out by name.
But Adeline, Jewel, Eugene, Roland, Joel, Jayden, Bonnie, Clyde, Ramba, Kendrick—the so-called mercenary coalition leader—and a few others were all present.
In short, everyone who should be here was.
I gestured with my chin toward the map.
“This is the usual route from our barracks to the Mana Core’s location.”
I pointed to three spots along the colored path I had drawn.
“These three areas had a greater concentration of mana than the others. I even noticed a flow, as if it were being drawn toward the Mana Core.”
“The mana in those three spots was converging on the Mana Core? Not just lingering in place?”
“Exactly.”
Roland, who had asked the question, suddenly looked at Eugene instead of me.
His silent glance seemed to say, “Can we trust this guy’s words?”
Eugene subtly nodded, a gesture that seemed to affirm my claim.
The moment he saw it, Roland immediately turned to Adeline.
“This isn’t just a simple Mana Field, my lady. Though physically separated, it’s functioning as a single organic entity. These three points are like lifelines supplying mana to the Mana Core.”
“Then we need to cut off their supply lines before striking the main base.”
“Indeed. We don’t know the Mana Core’s true nature, but it’s clear we can deal it a blow. We should split our forces into three groups and take them out one by one as we advance.”
Adeline, resting her chin, shifted her gaze to me with just her eyes.
The corners of her mouth lifted slightly.
“This is no small feat. Until now, we’ve been obsessed with avoiding danger zones through mana detection. Regardless of the subjugation’s outcome, you’ve saved us all from potential isolation.”
“It’s not over yet, so there’s no need for such praise.”
It wasn’t humility—I meant it. A lingering unease gnawed at me.
‘The mana gathered around the Mana Core… it wasn’t normal.’
That part was different.
The mana I had identified through Ghost Eye appeared as clear, tangible blue threads, but the mana around the Mana Core was a strange, indescribable color, rising like a shimmering haze.
“My lady! Are you truly going to take this man’s words at face value?!”
Kendrick’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
His rapid blinking and twitching lips betrayed his incredulity.
“I mean, isn’t it absurd? He’s barking orders out of nowhere—shouldn’t we at least know what basis he’s spouting this nonsense on?”
“He’s right! Our mages’ mana detection didn’t pick up anything. Even Roland couldn’t. Unless he can directly see mana with his eyes, this is too far-fetched.”
“We should suspect he’s a spy for the Archduke. This could be a bold ploy to lead us all into danger… ahem!”
The mercenary leaders, who appeared to be mages, chimed in to support Kendrick.
I understood.
I’d react the same way.
Some random guy suddenly starts ranting like he’s been divinely inspired—of course it’d spark resentment.
‘Of course, I have no intention of spelling out my abilities to them in detail.’
A swordsman doesn’t go around bragging about their skills and techniques.
In a swordsman’s life, where you never know when or where you’ll face an enemy in a life-or-death duel, there’s no need to leave room for your abilities to be countered.
‘That’s why I was so surprised by Eugene’s confession.’
Anyway.
Even when accused of leading them into a trap, I kept my mouth shut.
It wasn’t just about my pride—it felt like betraying the inexplicable trust the trio placed in me would be discourteous.
“I have a duty to ensure this subjugation succeeds. There are lives besides my own at stake.”
“What?”
“My part’s done. Believe me or not, the rest is for you to judge and decide. I’ll follow your decision without question. Is that enough?”
“…”
“You’d all better hurry. The Demonic Corruption is progressing as we speak.”
I couldn’t just go all out.
After all, the mercenaries here had been handpicked by the discerning trio.
They weren’t fools—not even Kendrick.
Thud!
Adeline slammed the hilt of her sword against the table.
Her eyes, the only vibrant spark in the dreary barracks, gleamed with intensity.
“I, Adeline Conwell, vouch for Bihen Benkou. Any further objections will be treated as insubordination, and I will not tolerate them.”
* * *
“Stay safe, honey.”
“Hey, sweetheart, let’s move.”
What was she so reluctant about? Bonnie even pretended to sniffle.
I exchanged a glance with Clyde, who was practically carrying her.
The Barrow Mercenary Band had been assigned to the mercenary coalition heading down the central route.
“We’ll meet at the rendezvous, Bihen Benkou.”
Adeline, fully armored, looked striking in a different way. Her pale face was the only part exposed, her body clad in plate armor that bore visible signs of use.
It wasn’t mere decoration—it proved she had worn it in actual combat.
“Take care.”
“…You too.”
Eugene, Roland, and Joel followed her.
I turned my gaze away after Joel gave me a quick bow.
Ramba, as if he’d been waiting, shouted boisterously.
He’d sent all his men to the mercenary coalition and stayed behind alone.
“Alright! Time for us to move out, milord!”
“Why are you…”
“Don’t say that! Don’t I need to witness the exploits of Conwell’s new knight with my own two eyes?”
Jayden stepped forward, volunteering to lead with a spirited smile.
“I’m counting on you, Ramba.”
“Hahaha! No need to mind me. I’m just here to see things as they are and flap my gums about it later.”
Well, he had a point.
Our group was a mix of the Easton Garrison and the Gunbel Trading Company.
Aside from Jayden, Janson, Bill, and Ramba, it was essentially a foreign legion of Imperials.
“Not only can you cut through magic, but you can see mana too?”
It was as if he was saying, “You can at least tell me that much, right?”
Before I could respond, my eyes fell on Jewel’s attire.
She seemed to have geared up, but I couldn’t tell if it was armor or jewelry.
I hadn’t thought much of it, but comparing her to Adeline made me let out a wry chuckle.
“…Well, you’ve done well to follow this far.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing. Maybe I’ll tell you about it someday. If, of course, you come clean about your real motives.”
Kendrick had decided the routes for the three units.
I’d suggested to Adeline that he should.
I’d only confirmed the mana’s movements, not what Demonic Beasts lay along each path.
So, I gave the choice to Kendrick, who remained skeptical to the end.
In that sense, we’d gotten lucky.
Uoooooo—
It had been a while since we left the barracks, and the only Demonic Beasts we’d encountered were ghouls, called “throat-rippers” here.
They were undead born when tainted mana seeped into human or animal corpses.
They roamed the corrupted lands with decaying bodies, and Jayden had warned that their stench was their most dangerous trait.
Splat!
Each strike was annoying because, instead of blood, they sprayed a viscous slime.
The slime, like greasy sludge mixed with mud, dulled the blade.
“Uuuu…”
There were quite a few.
Even as we cut them down, more ghouls kept appearing from somewhere, tightly encircling us.
“Maintain formation. Don’t scatter.”
I folded my left arm, tucking the back of my sword against the inside of my elbow, and wiped the slime off the blade as if cutting my arm.
Meanwhile, I roughly counted their numbers.
Janson muttered beside me.
“Seriously, they’re endless. Where were all these corpses piled up?”
Now that he mentioned it…
Ghouls couldn’t exist without corpses to begin with.
‘There’s no sign of a leader.’
I glanced back.
The Gunbel Trading Company was fighting a short distance away.
They didn’t seem to need help.
‘They’re fine.’
Where were they hiding?
There it was—curled up in the dense foliage, clinging to a tree like a monkey.
“Ramba!”
“Eek! H-How did you find me?”
“Jayden’s done enough for now, right? For his reputation.”
“Yes, sir! His swordsmanship was stellar. I’d say his prowess is around mid-tier Sword Expert…”
“That’s enough.”
I turned to Jayden.
“I’ll finish this quickly.”
“Bihen, isn’t this enough for us to handle together?”
“Something feels off. Save your strength for now. I can handle this alone.”
This wasn’t bravado.
Imperial swordsmanship included techniques designed for fighting hordes of Demonic Beasts in one-against-many scenarios.
I crouched lower.
The sword path was already mapped in my mind.
When hunting Demonic Beasts, there was no need for the calculated give-and-take of human combat.
It was all-out attack, ignoring defense, to take down as many as possible in one breath.
Whoosh—!
I pushed off the ground.
In my free hand, I held my scabbard to balance my body.
‘One breath.’
I inhaled through my nose and struck the first blow.
The moment it landed, I unleashed a whirlwind of strikes in the midst of the ghoul horde.
Even I felt it was almost a trance-like state.
Against human opponents, I’d never attempt this.
Thud-thud-thud-thud!
Spinning left, right, slashing, smashing…
The dull sounds of flesh being torn rang out in succession, then stopped abruptly.
I stood still, arms spread wide.
“Hoo.”
I exhaled the breath I’d held, slowly stabilizing my breathing.
Black slime dripped down the blade.
Clap, clap, clap!
The sound of applause came from Ramba, still perched in the tree, clapping like a madman.
“You’re insane, milord!”
* * *
‘What in the world was that swordsmanship…?!’
Ramba couldn’t close his gaping mouth.
He didn’t even notice the drool dripping down his chin.
‘Imperial magic-slaying sword? Ha! How embarrassing. It’s like calling a firefly the sun!’
In that moment, Ramba reflected on his life. How had he lived?
The head of Conwell’s Wild Dogs and Sewer Rats, the so-called beggar king of the Kingdom’s east, a charmer second to none, a natural storyteller who spun tales so famous people believed they were real, a popular entertainer who drew crowds of village kids, an informant who could recite the scandals of Conwell’s nobles all day…
‘That was me.’
The self-loathing hit hard—he’d only just recognized the genius that was Bihen Benkou and worse, he felt the limits of his creativity, unable to come up with a fitting epithet for Bihen’s prowess.
‘Ah, the sage was right!’
When the Gunbel Trading Company’s ship carrying Bihen docked at Breadport, Ramba, as usual, was napping sweetly, curled up somewhere in the marketplace.
Sage Roland had somehow found him, as he always did.
“—Look into him. Name’s Bihen Benkou. Imperial, looks older than his years…”
From that day, Ramba had tailed Bihen closely.
He had no real work anyway.
He was fed up with the knights’ growing tyranny and, well, the advance payment was generous.
‘What kind of man is he?’
When Zephyros cleaned out the Crimson Flame Cult’s hideout, when Bihen kicked Roxley off the top of their base…
Ramba was there for it all.
‘He… cuts magic?’
That day, Ramba’s common sense crumbled once.
And today, it shattered completely.
It was an awakening.
‘When I first saw Eugene’s Destreza?’
He shook his head unconsciously.
Bihen Benkou was barely out of his teens.
Considering his potential, it was impossible to gauge his limits.
‘…Sword Fiend. Sword Fiend Bihen Benkou.’
Suddenly, his imagination soared.
‘The Blood Lion and the Sword Fiend guarding the youngest lady…’
Ramba swallowed hard.
His heart raced foolishly.
‘M-Maybe… it’s possible.’
What came to mind was his most cherished, beloved story.
Twenty years ago, he’d written it with all his hopes and dreams.
It briefly gained popularity, but was soon dismissed as absurd nonsense, fading into obscurity—a tragic work.
It was the tale of a foolish knight pursuing justice and honor.
The grand saga began with the hero saving his lord from crisis.
‘Not fiction… but reality.’
The Knights of Elderwood.
His first and last novel.
He’d sworn off writing, choosing to face reality over indulging in fanciful dreams.
And so, the literary Cervantes became the beggar Ramba.