Regressor of the Fallen Family (Novel) Chapter 64 - 65 - 66

Note: The Novel Will Be Corrected Until Chapter 105, After That Chapter It Will Be All MTL

C64 - 65 - 66

Chapter 64 Clang! Clash!

Kwaaang!

“Damn these creatures!”

Caliann gritted his teeth as he faced three knights whose defense was seemingly impervious even to him.

The refined realm he had barely achieved was of a different caliber, even compared to mid-tier knights.

Dealing with three mid-tier knights should’ve been within the norm for him.

But now, he could only watch helplessly as these knights blocked his every move, and his subordinates fell one after another.

“This is ridiculous!”

Kwaaang!

In a burst of force, Caliann managed to push the three knights back with a powerful strike.

In that moment, a golden sword cut through the wind and interjected.

“Leave them to me and help your comrades!”

With a golden force emanating from his blade, the red-haired warrior cried out as the three knights withdrew without a word.

The figure of this red-haired adversary was strikingly similar to the imposing man who, during their first clash, had managed to make Caliann dodge without realizing.

Flames sparked in Caliann’s eyes at the sight of this brat.

“Are you a whelp of the Macline?”

Not even an hour into the battle and his side was already showing signs of defeat.

Capturing this fellow could buy his allies time to regroup.

Clenching his teeth, Caliann swung his force-entwined blade.

However…

Kwaaang!

“Urgh!”

“What a lackluster high-tier knight. Put some more strength into it!”

Surely the aura he sensed from the brat was, at best, mid-tier.

Yet it was him who got pushed back at the collision.

“How dare you, a lucky brat!”

Overwhelmed by a sense of danger and his crumbling pride, Caliann began to release a murderous intent.

‘Good, this is going well.’

Seeing Caliann emitting killing intent, Logan smiled.

‘A proper enemy high-tier knight.’

Logan solidified the second form of his divine sword vision, Dan-geum-jam, pounding against the wall of high-tier force users.

The wall that seemed easy to cross had been intact for months.

At a time when it was maddeningly close to breaking through, facing not his own family’s high-tier knights but one from a different region was the most suitable encounter for an epiphany.

With his side slowly taking the upper hand on the battlefield, there was no reason not to be thrilled.

“Come at me!”

Quaaang!

The duel began with a head-on collision devoid of any finesse or technique.

Both red and gold forces collided, and the aftermath of the shock was almost equal for both.

But even that seemingly even match was enough to disconcert Caliann.

‘A mid-tier knight with the strength of a high-tier?’

Impossible.

The enhancement ratio granted by the force grew exponentially with each higher realm.

This must have been due to his own complacency.

“I won’t hold back anymore, you brat!”

“Keep dreaming…”

Clang!

Crash!

Bang! Boom!

Their swords crossed numerous times, skimming armor and flesh alike.

After another evenly matched collision, Caliann’s eyes finally dimmed with a heavy glare.

Logan was quite pleased with the change in his opponent.

“Now you’re getting serious.”

“Damn you…”

Not fully understanding the situation but accepting it nonetheless, Caliann acknowledged that in terms of strength and speed, he was not being outmatched by his adversary.

‘How can someone so young… What a monster.’

But physical attributes aside, there was something Caliann knew he couldn’t emulate.

He extinguished the inferno of anger and jealousy within and gripped his sword calmly.

Moved by the urgency, he acknowledged that a hasty attack could spell danger for himself.

Crack.

“Things will be different from now on.”

With those words spoken in a low voice, his red sword swung out, and simultaneously ‘two’ swords aimed for both Logan’s top and bottom.

The vivid red blades were too realistic even for Logan’s senses to distinguish in a moment.

But…

‘Below!’

The sword targeting the lower half was undoubtedly real, while the one above seemed merely a floating red blade.

Logan moved to block the lower strike when suddenly…

‘No, it’s too obvious a trick!’

Realizing this, he quickly maneuvered his sword to cover both above and below.

Clash!

Boom!

Crash!

A moment too late to react, the tangible upper red blade grazed Logan’s neck.

“Hmm. Lucky you.”

“Quite the trick up your sleeve.”

The realization that both swords were solid surprised even Logan, to which Caliann responded with a murderous chuckle.

“Enjoy that trick of yours until you draw your last breath.”

Whoosh.

The red sword now appeared as three blades, each targeting a new angle: a diagonal slice from the shoulder, a horizontal cut across the legs, and a thrust.

Faced with an unrelenting multi-directional assault, Logan had no choice but to retreat helplessly.

“But I know a similar technique that could be useful.”

Whir.

The moment his golden blade shone, a strange energy spread, slowing the three incoming sword strikes in an odd way.

The slightly misdirected red blades revealed an opening, which Logan exploited as he lunged forward, sword in hand.

“Ugh! Cut the crap!”

With a forceful kiai, Caliann’s red blade brightened, multiplying into five.

Logan had to hastily retreat from the sheer might of the new blades.

As his pace fell back faster and faster, Caliann seized the momentum, relentlessly swinging his sword.

The torrent of five red blades felt like an ambush from five opponents, but Logan fought back with composure, bundling the swords with overwhelming force, even finding moments to counter among the pressure.

Yet, despite the calm retaliation, wounds piled up on his body uncontrollably.

Caliann, having finally taken the advantage, forgot his original intention amidst a surge of killing intent.

“Die!”

At that instant, Logan, eyes shining, leaped into the onslaught of those red blades, which seemed bound to rend him asunder.

“Taah!”

Quaaang!

“Ugh!”

“Gasp!”

Another great clash ensued, but this time, it was Caliann who was pushed back even farther.

Logan, bearing superficial cuts on his thigh and forearm, bleeding yet grinning broadly, had found it.

‘Got it.’

He realized that instead of binding all five swords with his overwhelming force, targeting just one or two decisive blades would suffice to create an opening, despite some damage.

“Each of your blows is too weak. If this is all you have, it’s disappointingly flimsy.”

It wasn’t a mere display of dominance; Logan had turned the battle into a stepping stone for his growth.

Eager for Caliann to exert more effort, Logan’s provocation hit its mark perfectly.

Crunch.

“I’ll slash you to pieces.”

“But seems like your head will hit the ground before that happens.”

As Caliann’s eyes reddened with intensifying bloodlust, Logan charged with a smile.

Clang! Bang! Kwaaang!

Crash.

As injuries etched into Logan’s body, more severe wounds befell Caliann in return.

Then suddenly…

Amidst Caliann’s ultimate technique, San-geom, Logan’s blow sliced through Caliann’s flank.

Rip.

“Cough, cough!”

Stumbling, Caliann incredulously looked at Logan.

He had seen the last strike with his own eyes and yet failed to defend against it.

He crossed five swords to block, but Logan’s attack had far surpassed their power.

This only meant one thing.

“Could it be…”

“Thank you for the fight.”

Feeling ‘three’ cores pulsing in his heart, Logan smiled broadly, the two cores orbiting the center core enhancing the force eightfold, invigorating his body.

His blood loss from many cuts had caused slight dizziness, but now his body was rekindling with energy.

It was time to give this worthy opponent a final, grand display.

‘Let’s finish with a flourish.’

With an intent to inspire allies and despair the enemies, Logan’s core transformed into a massive golden gleam erupting from his sword.

“This is the end.”

The first form of his divine sword vision, Wave Splitter.

Eight layers of golden waves surged, sweeping across a 7-8 meter space in front.

Kwaaaang!

Caliann was obliterated, his armor reduced to blood-stained sand scattering in the wind.

As the shocking scene drew all nearby eyes…

“I’ve captured the enemy commander!”

Logan shouted with a booming voice that shook the surroundings.

Right at that moment…

– Soto Sylvan has been captured! Those who kneel and disarm shall live! All must surrender!

His father’s even louder outcry reverberated beyond the castle walls and across the entire battlefield.

The impact of those words scattered the attention focused on Logan instantly.

“When did he… get there…”

Logan smirked awkwardly, covered in blood.

* * * The battle that ensued half a day after the declaration of war concluded in just a few hours.

Moreover, the result was overwhelmingly one-sided, a decisive victory for Macline.

Baron Sylvan’s knight, Caliann, and 42 others deceased. Soldiers, 1,223 deceased.

Macline’s knight, Pames, and 5 others deceased. Soldiers, 0 deceased.

A turnout so favorable, it would be deemed a lie upon hearing it through rumors.

Silvan ran, losing his knights swiftly to Padric’s capture.

When Silvan the baron was taken and a sword threatened his neck, the remaining knights, poised to resist to the end, all surrendered.

The MacLine knights occupying Silvan Castle wore faces full of smiles for a reason.

– We have won. Decisively so.

A swelling pride for progress turned into reality.

There were sacrifices, but the general ease and laughter on everyone’s face were well justified.

On the contrary, the Silvan family and knights kneeled in plain clothes within the great hall, the situation grim for them.

But that concern was not for the conquerors to bear.

“Soto Sylvan. I offer you a chance.”

Seated in place of the lord, Padric’s voice echoed throughout the great hall, and Soto Sylvan, who suddenly aged a decade in half a day, raised his head with a haggard complexion.

“Repent for your sins and take the minimum bounty to leave this territory with your family.”

Already humiliated and kneeling, the defeated were now instructed to apologize.

“No one would accept this lightly.”

“Such blatant declaration and unwarranted occupation will not be tolerated by the royal court either!”

For those watching, Soto’s desperate outburst elicited nothing but hollow laughter.

Just as demonstrated in the previous estate war with Tesron, the royal court held little interest in this rural backwater.

Unless it was high treason or a similar major event, they wouldn’t care.

However, such matters couldn’t be voiced publicly, so Padric looked down at the vanquished with a sneer.

“You insulted and threatened Macline, which possessed a just cause. My actions were merely to protect our sovereignty. Even the royal court will find no fault.”

“Even if the royals overlook this, Count Biphros of the Southwest will not allow it! Especially against Macline!”

Faced with this claim, Padric tensed.

If the downfall of the Macline earldom was once caused by the earl’s mismanagement, the biggest beneficiary of overturning Macline was Biphros, formerly a vassal of Macline.

The fertile Biphros Plains, formerly Macline Plains, elevated Biphros to the position of Lord of the Southwest naturally.

Owing to the mediation of the royal court and Macline’s barren lands, Biphros didn’t enforce vassalage upon the Macline family.

But for Macline, the name alone was distasteful.

“Are you declining the opportunity and choosing death?”

Padric’s tone naturally bore a hint of deadliness.

“I, I…”

Realizing too late that his own words had sealed his fate, Soto paled.

“Just…”

Whoosh!

Before Soto could muster a defense, his head soared into the air amidst a spray of blood.

“Ahh!”

“Dad!”

“Honey!”

The three wives and five daughters of Soto’s kneeling family screamed in unison.

“In honor of the viscount’s choice for a dignified death over submission, his end came with the least pain possible.”

Logan, having just wiped the blood off his sword, bowed indifferently to his father.

“Good, that was done well.”

The scene had been preordained, and so Padric’s expression remained stoic.

They had captured Soto to avoid unnecessary losses, and now they had killed him to sever any lingering hopes of the remaining knights.

Even if there were any knights truly loyal to the tyrannical Soto, the coup was to offer a chance for change.

‘If you had bowed from the start, it would have been a bit troublesome. But this worked out well.’

Regardless of Soto’s actions, the outcome was sealed.

The choice given was merely a facade for the narratives that would spread, aimed at preventing any hot gossip among the other nobles.

Especially…

‘Biphros…’

Currently, it was a foe beyond the capacity of the Macline family.

For now, they had to momentarily retract for a future leap forward.

-----------------------

Chapter 65

“You wretches will fall into ruin as well! Macline!”

The wives and daughters of Soto Sylvan, cursing with voices filled with evil, were chased out of the domain with some belongings after the calamity.

Noblewomen, who lived without a drop of water on their hands their entire lives, now faced a future without husbands and fathers, but their plights were not considered.

The focus was to notify the citizens of Sylvan Castle, now part of the new domain, of their new ruler, to reassure the people, and to prepare for the war that lay ahead.

However, a week after the conquest of Sylvan, Logan received magical communication from an unexpected source.

“The Beifros Count?”

The communication was unforeseen, and its content was essentially a warning—though it came too late.

“The Sylvan and Pereta, Macline, should cease fighting. As the Lord of the Southwest, I will mediate the war.”

“How dare they claim to be the Lord of the Southwest?!”

Though Padric’s face reddened with anger at this proclamation, reality was reality.

Macline’s vassals placated their enraged lord as they responded to the Count’s communication.

“Sylvan has already fallen into Macline’s hands, and the self-proclaimed Lord Soto Sylvan is dead. It was a rightful retaliation against threats, and Macline has no intention of escalating the war further.”

Perhaps due to the unexpected turn of events, the Count’s response came only days later.

“The Count’s envoy will visit Macline and Pereta for assurance there will be no further escalation, and to convey the intentions of the Beifros Count.”

“The Count’s intentions?”

“Though it’s a bit worrying, the lack of mention of Sylvan probably means they acknowledge our occupation.”

“Well, it seems a bit different than expected, but it looks like it turned out as Logan wanted, barring Pereta’s silence.”

“In our current situation, what else could happen?”

“What about Testron Castle…?”

“With Clayton there, they could hold, should anything happen.”

“Yes, they can hold…”

The war with Sylvan came to an end quickly, but that was because Macline used their maximum strength without looking back.

They still had one defeat to conceal at Testron.

Managing three castles was no longer as simple as before. Previously, with just Macline and Testron, they could focus most of the forces in Testron and use Macline Castle symbolically.

But now, setting aside the fact that Pereta was considered an enemy, the occupation of Sylvan meant a border with Beifros, and they couldn’t act as they used to.

“We must move the center of the domain from Macline Castle to the town. Next to the Mage Tower, we’ve prepared a residence for the lord’s family.”

“Summer is approaching, and the Monster Forest has been completely logged. We can leave but a minimum force in Macline without any significant issues.”

“We’ll station the knights around Macline Town and prepare so they can be dispatched to Testron and Sylvan at any time. I recommend splitting the soldiers for garrison duties.”

“Yes. That’s a good idea.”

Change was inevitable, and since it was a positive change, decisions were made swiftly.

The gains from the war were not only lands.

“We captured 75 knights?”

“Yes. Besides the 42 who died, subtract three deserters, all are confined in Sylvan’s prison. There are eight intermediate knights.”

“Hah, that’s more than our own knights. We’ve certainly become stronger.”

“Indeed.”

Though the team was convincingly stronger, they didn’t dwell on the fact that Soto Sylvan’s complacency led to an early capture.

They simply smiled in harmony with their lord.

“All of them can be persuaded to switch sides, right?”

“Who would be devoted to Soto Sylvan? I believe it’s all possible.”

True loyalty to a tyrant was questionable, and if such a person existed, they weren’t needed anyhow.

Now, with above-average compensation, all under the same king and country, there was ample justification.

Who would refuse a stronger lord while maintaining their honor, position, and wealth?

Logan was confident that nobody would decline.

Perhaps the most surefire method to increase knight numbers was not selecting talented individuals but conquering domains.

So overwhelming a victory filled Logan with frivolous thoughts.

‘If only Soto Sylvan acted with more caution, there would have been significant casualties. Fewer knights would’ve been captured, and enemy soldiers would’ve perished.’

Soldiers might become future knights; they were relatives, friends, lovers of the current citizens.

Though overshadowed by the capture of over half the knights, the fact that over a thousand soldiers surrendered alive was also an encouraging outcome.

Everything exceeded expectations.

‘It won’t be this way next time.’

War should typically deplete resources, whether people or materials.

And those who face Macline next will not be as simple and direct as Soto Sylvan.

Having subdued Testron and now claiming Sylvan, others won’t attribute it to luck.

Logan cautioned himself not to get too intoxicated with victory and emphasized this to his father and the surrounding vassals.

Nonetheless, smiles remained on the faces of Macline’s leadership for a while.

During the high spirits, when Macline’s leadership remained in Sylvan to manage the captured knights and soldiers, the envoy of Beifros arrived not at Macline Castle but at Sylvan.

* * *

“The Count deeply regrets the wars that Macline has conducted every year.”

“I too regret them. Macline has been provoked by those around them, after all.”

“There may have been misunderstandings, and the Count knows this. He wishes to mediate before they worsen.”

“Mediate? The war is over, and Macline wants no more disputes. Unless Pereta provokes us, we have no reason for hostility.”

“The mediation was requested by Sylvan. Even though things have come to this…”

“Them starting the dispute and now calling for mediation, Soto Sylvan was truly thick-skinned.”

Upon Padric’s words, everyone in the grand hall nodded except for the envoy, whose next statement shifted the mood.

“The Count regrets neglecting the duty of a Lord and not pursuing unity in the region, which led to these frequent clashes.”

As if it was some nonsensical talk, confusion filled the eyes of everyone.

“In light of this, on the upcoming fiftieth birthday of Lord Roger Beifros, the Count, as Lord of the Southwest, wishes to meet the heirs of each family to discuss the future…”

Bang!

“Nonsense! Send heirs? Discuss the future? Does Macline look like it would bow to Beifros?”

The growl erupted with ferocity, and Sylvan’s finely crafted armrest shattered under the burst of murderous intent.

But the envoy, despite sweating profusely and staggering, did not avoid Padric’s gaze.

“If, if the Count wishes, those who prefer not to attend may abstain. However…”

Gulp.

Swallowing nervously, the envoy clenched his teeth and continued.

“Beifros will only aid families who recognize Beifros as Lord of the Southwest, and those who don’t will have no part in discussing the future.”

“Hmph. A sophisticated way to threaten, indeed. But Macline will not yield to threats…”

As Padric’s anger manifested into a formidable atmosphere pressing down on the envoy, Logan stepped forward with a smile.

“It might be entertaining to attend. Father.”

“…do, what?”

* * *

“I’ve sent the envoy off, respecting your wishes. However…”

Padric recalled the last moment in the great hall, his face flushing red.

– ‘The Prince is indeed astute.’

It was a sneer, viewing him as someone who couldn’t grasp reality.

“No matter the excuse, it is impermissible for us to bow our heads to Beifros! I’d rather die than let that happen!”

The unintentional surge of intensity heavy in the office.

“Even after I die, I won’t allow it!”

But, of course, his opponent was Logan.

“Shall I bury you now?”

“…What?!”

While scooping up a handful of dirt from a plant pot, Logan looked at his father, who could only stare back in astonishment.

“Let’s hear what you were thinking, then?”

With a sigh, Logan’s response followed.

“We couldn’t beat Beifros no matter what we did right now.”

With two top-tier knights, fifteen high-ranked knights, and over 300 knights spread across two knight orders, the publicly known power of the Count’s family, owning five castles and vast Beifros plains, was overwhelming.

The sheer difference in strength meant they couldn’t win.

“Moreover, our situation may appear to be improving, but it’s precarious.”

Far from the kingdom’s center, previously uninteresting Macline was now different.

Having devoured Testron and Sylvan successively, the current Macline would undoubtedly have caught Beifros’ attention.

With their lands bordering each other, any misstep out of pride could lead to being trampled.

‘We need time.’

Time to integrate Sylvan’s knights, to decisively subjugate Pereta, and to reorganize their forces.

Time for him to master the Three Forms of the Holy Sword according to his growth, and for the knights to advance as well.

The father would know this as well, yet…

“The situation is different from other borderlords in the region. If Beifros uses their position as Lord, others will resist.”

The state of affairs in Southwest had been quite complicated when Macline’s ancestor committed misdeeds four generations ago.

Despite quelling the rebellion, Beifros failed to eliminate the old master’s blood, and the royal family protected Macline, conserving the lineage.

Since then, unlike other borderlords or Lords, Beifros couldn’t demand subservience from southwestern nobles.

It was unclear what tangled circumstances led to this reality, but Father Padric’s view held its own logic.

Nonetheless, unbeknownst to him, the situation had slightly changed.

“Beifros’ northern neighbors, Percival and Lupfman, have long been under Beifros. This was confirmed during my visit to the capital.”

Though the confirmation came not from the capital but rather from his past life, it was convincing enough to change his father’s perspective.

“What?!”

“If there’s backlash, it would mainly be Pereta, which, as you know, is currently…”

“How can that be?”

“If we resist now, we might be crushed as an example.”

“…When did matters deteriorate to this point…? I’m truly ashamed. I neglected the encroaching threat.”

Padric slumped as if he lost all his strength, prompting Logan to gently assuage him.

“You needn’t blame yourself. I only learned by chance at the capital.”

“…Our family’s weakness has caused you to suffer. I’m sorry, my son.”

Essentially, it was acceptance of Logan’s intent.

“Considering my skill, there will be no issue. Let’s see how lands once owned by our ancestors have changed.”

‘And there’s certainly something I must verify.’

As he watched Father’s bitter expression, Logan withheld his final words and simply swallowed them down.

* * *

“Master! Is it true we’re being sold off to enemy lands?!”

It seemed the tale from Sylvan’s grand hall had been distorted as it spread.

Not long after returning to Macline Town, Logan encountered Hamar, whose face was full of sweat and urgency, as if he had hastily rushed over.

“What kind of nonsense is spreading…”

“If the master dies! What about our promise? My freedom?!”

“I’m not dying! And I’m not being sold. Disregard such baseless rumors, would you!”

“But most of the ridiculous rumors about the master have actually been true!”


Unable to refute the point, Logan was speechless.

“Anyway, take this with you wherever you go.”

“What is this?”

“I couldn’t properly finish the scabbard decoration due to urgency, but it’s yours, master. I assure you it’s functional.”

After placing the sword in his care, Hamar quickly turned and left.

“What is this…”

“Be sure to come back alive!”

Bang!

Without hearing a full response, Hamar stormed out the door and disappeared.

“Sheesh. I’m not marching to my death…”

Amidst exasperation and involuntary laughter, Logan’s gaze naturally settled on the sword left behind by the dwarf craftsman.

--------------------

Chapter 66: The sword had a length of about 120 cm, which was slightly longer and wider than a typical longsword, nearly resembling a greatsword in form. Although wrapped in a crude leather sheath, the silver hilt, pommel for balance, and the impressive cross guard made a remarkable impression just at a glance.

Sshhhh.

The moment he drew the sword…

“Wow…”

From Logan’s lips, only a single exclamation of admiration escaped.

The blade, stretching long and wide in silver, matched perfectly with the cross guard that was about a span in length, along with the flame-shaped pommel. Moreover, the perfect sense of balance that was felt simply by holding it in hand was indescribable. It wasn’t enough to say the sword was well-made. It was as if…

“The sword made for me.”

The length, width, shape, and feel of the blade all fit him just right. It was an incredible sense of unity, like having acquired another arm.

“This can’t be…”

Shwoosh.

When he swung the sword using only a snap of his wrist, the freshness of the grip as it sliced through the air felt exhilarating. Despite looking like it should weigh around 5 kg based on its appearance, it felt as if it only weighed about a third of that.

“A pure mithril sword…”

Mmmm.

The pulse of Force he experimented with briefly lent a brighter luminescence to the sword than usual. Within that bright radiance, Logan recalled the dwarf who had recently been scrutinizing him keenly.

“You’re really extraordinary. Thank you, Hamar…”

It was a sword that one couldn’t help but admire, akin to a work of art. As he stored the sword, marveling anew at the contracted dwarf’s talent,

Thud.

A note that had been wedged in the sheath belatedly fell to the ground.

“I’ll take at least half a year off after making weapons for the knights. I will give it my all! Of course, it won’t be as good as the main piece.”

On the day Logan burst into laughter without realizing it, he spent the whole day swinging his sword, enjoying the dance with his new partner.

* * *

Two weeks had passed since the capture of Sylvan and its incorporation into the Maclaine territory. It’s said, a loyal retainer does not serve two masters. If that was an absolute truth, then the knights of Sylvan, who had been prisoners, must all be betrayers, for they all switched lords and switched allegiances within two weeks. Of course, that is if one doesn’t take into account the special nature of a territorial conflict.

“Still, there might be problems eventually. The knights who served a tyrant won’t all be reliable.”

“That’s to be expected.”

“Eh?”

“What difference would the ones from Teslon make? Work them to the bone, and they won’t have a mind for mischief.”

“…I see.”

Logan scoffed at his father’s response, dismissing his worries.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?”

“It’s enemy territory. What if I take servants or knights with me and something happens? It’s better to be alone. If I’m alone, I have confidence I can escape from anything.”

Although those were the words of someone with a past life experience as a common knight who managed to evade an empire’s army for 20 years, they obviously didn’t convince.

“One hand can’t compete with two. At least take a few mid-tier knights…”

“Even if I take our whole knight order, we cannot win now. It’s better to go alone.”

“At least take a servant. It’s unbecoming for a noble to be…”

“Looking for dignity might kill those I take along.”

“If things go as you plan, that won’t happen. Unless… you’re planning something?”

“I shall return!”

“Logan? Logan!!”

Thudthudthud.

Leaving behind his shouting father, Logan sped away on horseback.

‘I don’t plan to cause trouble… but it might end up happening.’

He internally swallowed the excuse he couldn’t voice, kicking his horse into full speed.

It would take two days on foot to cross Sylvan territory from the starting point at Sylvan Castle. The journey from the border of that territory to the heart of Bifrost territory and Bifrost Castle would take three days on foot. Yet, for Logan, who had now reached the realm of an advanced knight and could enhance the horse with Force, that five-day distance could be reduced to less than a day.

That was, assuming he paced the horse to allow for ample rest. However, Logan set out, giving himself a full five days.

Rather than entering Bifrost Castle too soon, he intended to personally see the state of the surrounding towns and villages, the conditions of the territory, and to indirectly assess the condition of Bifrost, the potential enemy he would have to fight.

But the reality was different from Logan’s expectations and hopes.

“The lord? A good person, yes. Eh? Of course, I haven’t met them personally, but taxes are low at least. Haha.”

While he avoided entering other castles lest he be unnecessarily detained and lose time, the reactions from the different villages where he spent four days were largely the same.

At least, it meant Bifrost wasn’t practicing tyranny like Sylvan or Fereta.

And that meant…

‘Even as they consolidate power and expand their influence, they have the leisure to not need to excessively exploit their own people.’

Logan naturally tensed his expression.

Finally arriving at the east gate of Bifrost Castle, his attention was caught by a specific banner. An eagle soaring over flames.

‘Fereta…’

It seemed he wasn’t the only one that had timed his arrival so narrowly.

“Who’s that?”

“…The flame emblem?”

“Maclaine?!”

As he approached, an uproar erupted among the Fereta group. At a glance, there were over twenty knights, along with at least a hundred soldiers, and over fifty attendants.

And the leading carriage was nearly the size of a small house.

It was all absurd to Logan. What were they thinking, bringing such a carriage and force?

‘I wonder what they are up to?’

It was too many for an assault and too few for proper escort. It seemed better that he came alone, as that might have lulled them into complacency.

Instead, they took the opposite view.

“Alone?”

“Is he mad? Without a single escort?”

“He must have overtaxed himself in capturing Sylvan.”

“If only we had encountered him sooner, before arriving… Too bad.”

The knights, mumbling what they thought were whispers, were clearly heard by Logan.

He quietly laughed.

‘If only we had met sooner? I wish.’

He truly felt it was a shame. Among their party were three mid-tier knights, but they wouldn’t be enough to stop him.

‘They’re relying on some luck.’

Bifrost saved the Maclaine family, and due to this perfectly timed encounter, its heir was also saved.

It must be that Fereta was using the last of its luck before collapse.

‘Wait another half a year, no, five months now.’

Keeping his murderous intent hidden, Logan moved closer. The Bifrost soldiers immediately blocked his path, drawing their spears.

The tension appeared on the soldiers’ faces, finding the situation ridiculous, Logan managed a hollow laugh.

“Maclaine’s young master? This way, please, someone will guide you separately.”

Knights embroidered with burning rose crests inserted themselves into the commotion.

“Hm. Logan Maclaine. Do I need to go in with those people?”

As Logan displayed his badge, the knight once again bowed, requesting patience.

“Someone will come to guide both heirs shortly. We have already sent word, please wait a moment.”

The mention of ‘someone’ to guide them piqued Logan’s interest. Just then, Fereta’s camp radiated annoying arrogance.

“What’s that? He came like that? I have to be treated on the same level as that brute?”

“Your Highness!”

“Ah, I get it. It would be annoying if he heard from this distance. Ugh, troublesome. If it weren’t for the Count’s mediation, he’d be on his knees begging for his life in front of me.”

‘What? What did he say?’

A ludicrous voice was babbling from the direction of the ornate carriage. An impressive figure with golden hair and blue eyes in a fine noblemen’s cloak smiled falsely at Logan, offering a handshake.

“Fron Fereta. I’ve heard much about you from Lihart. They say you defeated six knights in one breath.”

Logan assessed the young man as the tension in the Bifrost knights loosened a step. Despite being in his mid-twenties, his poise made clear he was a Force user.

The absurd words he had overheard made Logan reluctant to respond, but considering he was in enemy territory, there was no need to stand out with unnecessary actions.

“Pleased to meet you. I am Logan Maclaine.”

Resigning to shake the offered hand,

“But you look so much younger than I expected. The rumors might be a bit exaggerated. Haha.”

Grip.

With those words, an immature attempt to exert strength accompanied the handshake. Disgusted by the childish behavior Logan was about to dismiss it, but an idea struck him.

‘If he’s simple enough, he might just react as I predict.’

‘Let’s see if you can play along.’

Crunch.

The sound that shouldn’t have come from their clasped hands did. Fron’s right hand turned pale, and although he clenched his teeth to bear it, his quivering face couldn’t be hidden.

“Oh, my apologies. I thought you wanted to show your strength…”

Pretending to be apologetic, Logan decided to let go, having had his fun. A normal person would recognize their insufficiency here.

Clang!

“Vile!”

Predictably, Fron drew his sword amid nonsense.

‘You’ve taken the bait!’

Now that Fron had given a pretext, Logan could decapitate him in one fell swoop if necessary.

Of course, there was no need for such brutality. A useless enemy is better than a competent ally, so it was better that he stayed alive.

Thus.

Shick.

He merely cut Fron’s sword in half in one swift move and rested his blade on Fron’s throat. The silver line that stretched from his waist to Fron’s neck was, even to his eyes, perfect—a reflection of the sunset shining on his new sword.

“Why do you utter words you can’t take responsibility for? As an heir of a territory, why do you not understand your place?”

As Logan’s voice dropped, Fron grew even paler.

The Bifrost knights hurried to intervene, solidifying their expressions.

Meanwhile, the Fereta knights did the opposite and stepped forward.

“Scoundrel! How dare you threaten our lord!”

“Attack!”

It seemed both the superiors and subordinates were equally rash.

“No private disputes are allowed in Bifrost’s territories… Eh?”

Before the Bifrost knights could interfere,

Sssshhhhkkkk.

Logan’s sword had already simultaneously sliced through the swords of the three rushing knights.

Crack.

With their bisected swords in hand, the knights, along with others drawn by the noise, stood dumbfounded. Amongst the clamor, Logan deliberately sheathed his sword slowly.

He had intentionally not used the Force, relying purely on his sword’s strength to break his opponents’ blades.

Hamar’s sword. Named Lux, after the ancient word meaning ‘hope’ or ‘dawnlight,’ it possessed a power befitting its name.

‘Any knight would recognize it.’

A glance at the pristine hilt would confirm the sword was freshly made.

Shhrrp.

As planned, Hamar’s diligently forged mithril sword caught everyone’s attention up until the very end when it returned to its sheath.

“It doesn’t feel like an artifact.”

“Right. I don’t sense any magic. But…”

Undoubtedly, it was a remarkable treasure.

The thought simultaneously arose not only in the knights who met each other’s gaze but also in all who witnessed it.

“That’s an impressive sword.”

“Yes, indeed.”

“Would it be impolite to ask where you obtained such a sword? It doesn’t seem ordinary…”

“It would be.”

The avaricious gaze was easily parried by Logan’s immediate and firm tone.

Display the treasure, but not the information behind it.

The curiosity would only intensify the spread of rumors, and in time, those words would surely reach the ears of a certain Count known as a collector.

And if the Count lived up to their epithet, his understanding of Lux’s origins would prevent any reckless actions against Logan.

‘I hadn’t intended to show off like this, but it’s not too bad.’

He didn’t believe his prepared strategies would fail, but it was essential to account for every contingency.

This incident served as a form of insurance.

Amid the murmuring crowd, Logan smiled slyly, and just then,

“…arrived!”

A shout from the castle gatekeepers echoed as a distinctive figure appeared through the gates, drawing all eyes upon them.

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