Reincarnated as the Adopted Son of a Prestigious Swordsmanship Family

Chapter 66: Serepes (2)

...Warm. It didn't have the characteristic smell of a hospital room. The scent of lavender stung my nostrils. I saw a pure white ceiling. This wasn't a hospital room, and it meant my five senses were back to normal.

A safe place. The thick bedding told me this wasn't Mectera. With the pain subsided, Simurtr reflexively sat up.

“Wow.”

Light. The pain that felt like it was squeezing his entire body was completely gone. An elixir.

That was the only means that could heal him in such a short time.

Either that or he had been asleep for a very long time.

“You're awake already?” Thɪs chapter is updatᴇd by Nove1Fire.net

The voice he heard was clear. He was completely, perfectly healed. His neck turned smoothly. Deban was sitting in the chair next to the bed.

“A day has passed.”

“An elixir?”

“Yes.”

He remembered the situation before he collapsed. Orde's mana. Those with the name Mectera usually carried an elixir with them. He must have used Orde's share of the elixir.

“Where is this? It doesn't seem like Mectera.”

“It's Serepes. The Grand Duke's castle.”

“Why here? Why not go back to the main castle?”

“There were many problems with returning directly to the main castle, especially with your condition, young master. Who would move a patient so recklessly? It's not like we're at war.”

It was reasonable, but it made him uncomfortable.

The last will. Staying in Serepes meant he had to make up the contents of that will.

‘If I knew this would happen, I wouldn't have done it this way.’

He didn't know Mectera would come looking for him. And the Sword Master himself, at that.

If he had known, he would have just left Deban and the children in front of the Black Tower.

“What's the situation?”

Now that he was awake, people would be coming soon.

Orde and the rest of Mectera, Raphaelo, or if the news had been delivered, the Grand Duke

of the North.

Before they arrived, Simurtr felt the need to grasp the current situation.

He could mostly guess.

He had a rough idea of why Mectera had come to the Black Tower, and why Orde was leading them.

‘The Black Snake must have found the way. The Sword Master probably came himself because he was worried about Beden and Janya.’

Had Raphaelo told Mectera about the last will? Simurtr wanted to know that. Had that fact been relayed to the Grand Duke of the North?

“The former Commander Raphaelo almost died, didn't he?”

“What?”

What Deban said was unexpected.

Raphaelo? By whom?

“Why? Was that bastard still alive?”

What came to mind was Gerehk Adre's Death Knight.

When the master disappears, the undead under their command go berserk. And Gerehk Adre's Death Knight had its ego suppressed.

‘In that situation, it's said they regain their ego.’

It would have regained its stolen ego. It probably would have become more difficult to deal with.

“Still, Raphaelo? I cut off one of its legs.”

But this was Raphaelo Drecie.

The idol of the North, second only to the Grand Duke, the king of the rangers, the Aran Lubeil of Serepes.

He felt his life was threatened by a Death Knight with one leg? Whose body was that, exactly?

“Who are you talking about?”

“Isn't it the Death Knight?”

“What? There was a Death Knight?”

He felt something was strange. Simurtr stared intently at Deban. Tilting his head, it seemed he didn't even know about the Death Knight's existence.

“What, it's not the Death Knight?”

“Of course not. We didn't see anything like that.”

“Then who almost killed Raphaelo?”

“Why, of course, it was the Sword Master.”

“What? Why?”

“Because of you, young master.”

He was about to declare war on Serepes.

Hearing that, Simurtr's expression turned bizarre.

“Then I'll be going. I'd like to express my gratitude, but the Sword Master has been waiting for you to wake up, young master.”

The past day.

Deban, who had recounted the day's events, said his final words. He said that Orde was with Beden right now.

He would be comforting Beden, listening to what he had been through. That was something Simurtr was also curious about. Beden was the only person who had met Gerehk Adre's 'they' in person.

“Gratitude?”

“You destroyed the Black Tower and the Kua.”

“I stole your share, didn't I?”

“It was something I couldn't have done anyway. It's a shame, but it can't be helped.”

“...You have a big heart, too.”

If he were in his shoes, and a comrade had taken the heads of the traitors? It was horrifying.

Simurtr, having imagined it, frowned deeply. He might even want to kill that comrade.

“You have a bigger heart than I do, young master.”

Deban said with sincerity.

Simurtr had acknowledged Deban and helped his revenge. He had acknowledged the other test subjects as Deban's family and took them in.

“Me? I don't think so.”

Simurtr smiled bitterly.

“Your relationship with the Kua? Did you tell them?”

“No. I'm just not going to. It's not something to be proud of. What's the point?”

“The children.”

“They're sleeping in the guest rooms. Can I take them? Even if not to the main castle, at least out of the North.”

“Why not? Of course, you can.”

“I was worried Serepes wouldn't let them go, saying they're related to the Black Tower.”

“I'll get them out for you.”

If Raphaelo, if Serepes came out like that, Simurtr would overturn it one way or another.

“You said Aran sponsors an orphanage. How about the best one among them? Preferably in the warm South. We can arrange for good teachers too.”

“I would be grateful if you did.”

Deban smiled brightly.

The warm South. He liked the sound of that. It was obvious he was doing it for the children who had suffered at the northern end.

“Right. And don't be too disappointed. The Black Tower is just a minion.”

“Pardon?”

“They're still out there, the Kua.”

To be precise, Basor and the Black Land.

***

“May I come in?”

It was Orde.

As he answered, the door opened smoothly. Simurtr checked his face first. It wasn't good. It was probably because he had found out about Janya's death.

‘I told Beden she was evacuated to the main castle.’

Orde had come from that main castle.

He would have immediately realized that the lie he told Beden, that Janya was alive, was false.

“My son, are you feeling better now?”

“Yes, thanks to you, I'm all better.”

“Still, let's take care of yourself. It's good to be young, but you're not just young, you're a child. And your body is on the weaker side.”

The importance of the body.

He may be kind and soft, but his skills were not lacking. Orde had a rough grasp of Simurtr's physical condition.

“Simurtr, may this father also call you Simyun?”

“Of course. Please call me whatever is comfortable for you.”

“Simyun, first of all, thank you. You saved Beden.”

Orde smiled. A deep sorrow was evident in it.

“I was lucky.”

“I heard from the official knight Deban. You let Beden and the children escape, and faced the Great Magician of the Black Tower alone.”

“It was the best I could do.”

“Simyun. Just as you care for those around you, you need to care for your own body as well.”

Orde's tone was gentle.

It was very different from what he had experienced at the main castle.

‘Because this isn't Mectera.’

This was probably his true nature and way of speaking.

The fearsome Medeoban was at the main castle. The foreign territory of Serepes was a rather free space for Orde. Without needing to worry about the eyes of others, he was having time alone with his son.

“Your teacher, Meram Athor, put in a lot of effort. It's because she worries about you and cherishes you.”

Meram hadn't been able to find the coordinates of the Warp. That was a fact he had heard from Deban.

‘Meram might be angry, but it can't be helped.’

The man called father had used the Great Magician Gerehk Adre as a mere underling. He was that powerful, a level that Meram, a mere 6th-circle mage, could not reach.

He had heard that the Black Snake of Degrate played a decisive role in reaching the conclusion of the Black Tower in the midst of that.

“It was the same for Degrate and the Black Snake. Did you grow fond of them when you went? When they said it was a matter concerning you, they were as proactive as the main castle.”

To Degrate, Simurtr had become an irreplaceable existence.

Not only Semenu, but Jiaren had also become like that. Phantasmal Ability. The possibility of improving it existed in Simurtr.

“We did get quite close. I got along well with the hidden phantasm user.”

“I see. They have a good relationship with the main castle, so don't try to sever it.”

“Yes.”

Orde's ideology was as gentle as his nature. Despite being the Sword Master, he did not reject things that were not the sword. He was very different from Medeoban or Aran.

“Thanks to everyone's efforts, we were able to arrive quickly.”

It had only been two days since he had left the main castle for a mission. Degrate had reached the conclusion of the Black Tower in just that time.

To pinpoint the Black Tower, hidden away at the northern end. Indeed, it was just like Degrate, the masters of assassination, search, and pursuit.

“But Simyun. I didn't expect you to be here.”

Mectera and Degrate.

The one thing they hadn't figured out was the fact that Simurtr had already reached the Black Tower before they arrived.

“May I ask how you, who were supposed to be in the western Kainan Territory, came to be with Beden?”

Orde's words were cautious.

It was probably because he had already met Beden. Sixteen. From the world's perspective, Beden and Simurtr were still young.

Not running away as they had wished, but a kidnapping.

But Orde, without even a moment to rejoice in that, was filled with worry for his surviving sons.

“Didn't the official knight Deban tell you?”

“He follows you a lot. He told me other things, but he didn't tell me the circumstances of how you came to the Black Tower.”

Simurtr gave a small nod.

The circumstances of how he came to the Black Tower.

‘Certainly. It's not something Deban can say.’

It was a circumstance that could be problematic even if Simurtr, the adopted son, said it. He didn't know what kind of punishment would await a mere official knight if he had said it.

“Will this be officially reported to the main castle?”

“It seems you'll be in trouble if your grandfather finds out.”

Orde noticed the point that Simurtr was troubled by.

“To be honest, I don't want to reveal it that way.”

“Don't worry. I'll be the only one who knows.”

Simurtr looked at Orde.

Certainly. It might be okay if it was Orde.

Unlike Medeoban, he truly loved his family. That category included Simurtr, and even his mother, Anna.

“I went to Bahab.”

“...What?”

But even for Orde, Simurtr's answer was bewildering.

He had secretly visited the forbidden Bahab.

He had participated in the banquet hosted by Haryun Bahab, and had volunteered to be kidnapped in her place.

“Haryun Bahab?”

“Yes, the second child of Bahab.”

“I believe she is a woman…”

“So I pretended to be a woman for a bit.”

“...Why?”

To that extent? He was dumbfounded.

Orde began to look at Simurtr as if he were a strange beast.

“Warp. The culprit came through a Warp. That's why I did it. I thought I could get a clue about the two who disappeared.”

Beden and Janya.

It meant he had made the judgment with them in mind. Orde bit his lip firmly. He had lost Janya, but he had gotten Beden back.

It was thanks to Simurtr. Even though they had found out about the Black Tower and arrived, Orde thought so. By the time they arrived, the situation was already over, wasn't it?

If Simurtr hadn't been there, he was afraid to even imagine what would have happened to Beden.

“Thank you, thank you. Simyun, thanks to you, Beden is alive.”

Leaving his mission area? Entering the forbidden territory of Bahab? Trivial. An utterly trivial matter.

He had saved Beden's life, so what's a little curiosity? And that curiosity belonged to another son.

“It will be a great contribution. Although Basor. They will cut their ties, saying it was the Black Tower's sole act, but that will not tarnish what you have achieved.”

He might even receive an award when he returned to the main castle. Saying that, Orde gripped Simurtr's hand tightly.

‘He doesn't know.’

What Orde was saying was not wrong, but it was downplayed. Pegna, and the Doom Species. Deban, who had left first, did not know of their existence.

‘Pegna. It's just physical evidence. It might create some noise in the process of Basor covering it up, but that's all.’

In that case, it was right to take it without revealing it.

Pegna was an indispensable treasure to Simurtr. Even if it had no effect, it was something he had to take. It was a gift from his master.

But the Doom Species.

Orde had to know about his connection to them.

“A rift. I saw a rift of the Doom Species.”

Simurtr rummaged through his belongings placed next to the bed. Denin Korg's Rift Detector. He showed it to Orde.

“The Great Magician of the Black Tower was receiving orders from a man called father of the Doom Species and the Black Land. The Warp was also that man's.”

The Black Tower was just a part of it.

The facility using the Kua would be hidden in other regions, including the Black Land.

“Like Beden, I have already become a target. Now that I've destroyed the Black Tower, they will be even more aggressive.”

The white Sword Master.

Simurtr mulled over that not-unfamiliar title. Even if he let this incident pass quietly, there was no way they would let him go.

“Basor, who cut their ties, will lay low, but the Black Land has no reason to. The Doom Species will be the same.”

If things continued like this, he would surely be targeted.

The Black Tower should not be something that the white Sword Master had disposed of.

“I am still weak. The walls of the main castle have been breached before. If they set their minds to it, I will have no choice but to be defeated.”

He needed to divert their attention. He needed time.

Through Gerehk Adre, Simurtr had keenly realized that fact.

“The Black Tower and the Kua. The Doom Species. It was you, father, who discovered all of this. It was you, the Sword Master of Mectera, who did it.”

If it's within the Empire's territory.

Even if it's a very minor justification, it's enough for Mectera.

“So, silence the only witness, Raphaelo Drecie. The Black Tower was punished not by me, but by Mectera, who was delegated the authority of the Imperial family.”

The right of summary execution.

If there was even a little justification. If Mectera was stronger than the target of punishment.

Mectera, the last of the Hero Families, had the official authority to use the name of the Imperial family.

***

“I refuse.”

Orde narrowed his eyes.

Raphaelo Drecie. A man famous for his uprightness. Loyalty to the Grand Duke. The Raphaelo he faced directly was comparable to Aran Lubeil of the main castle. He was that single-minded.

“I cannot report a falsehood to Her Highness the Grand Duke. I have a duty to report what I have seen and heard as it is.”

Many mountains cause avalanches with even a small vibration, but the central mountain of the Serepes Mountain Range never shakes off its snow.

“The Black Tower was certainly destroyed by him, no, by Simurtr Mectera. It was also he who discovered the heinous acts of the Black Tower, and it was he who saved the children who were subjected to those atrocities.”

Raphaelo resembled that snowy mountain.

“The right of summary execution. It is a threatening authority, enough to be called the representative of the Imperial family, but it is an authority not permitted to a Mectera who has not undergone the coming-of-age ceremony.”

In this incident, Basor had no choice but to remain silent. However, while the Black Tower belonged to Basor, its location was in the territory of Serepes.

“Exposing the atrocities of the Black Tower is certainly an achievement, but from Serepes's standpoint, we are not without a say.”

He was a man who wouldn't listen to reason.

It was like dealing with the stubbornness of Aran Lubeil.

And not the usual 6th Head of the Sword, but the Aran who spoke of his young master, Exa Mectera.

Aran Lubeil's stubbornness could not be broken.

The same went for the Raphaelo before him. That temperament was something that could only be broken if the Grand Duke of the North herself suppressed it.

…But Orde had a reason to break it, even by force.

If he didn't, his sons would be in danger. His sons, Beden and Simurtr. What if something like this happened again? There was no guarantee he could save them then. He couldn't go through something like this again.

Mana inadvertently flows. A jet black begins to flow in Raphaelo's office. Creak. The legs of the chair Orde was sitting on broke through the floor.

“Do you intend to destroy Serepes this time?”

The mana of Mectera was like a great mountain, firmly rooted in one place. The tone of Raphaelo, who had suddenly recalled this, hardened.

“If necessary.”

Orde's voice was cold.

It was different from when he dealt with his sons, his family.

Tender, and soft. That was why Medeoban had not allowed Orde's participation in the war.

“Do you think it possible?”

“Do you think it impossible?”

But the reason Orde had received such an evaluation at the main castle was that he rarely left the castle of Mectera.

Because he rarely dealt with outsiders who were not family.

“A thousand years of Mectera. There is nothing we cannot do.”

The reason he had not uttered a single excuse despite the countless reprimands from Medeoban was that he was his father.

The reason he had hesitated even when the main castle was in turmoil due to the mistresses, and when he learned of Janya's atrocities, was that she was his wife.

“Sword Master. It is a name that allows for recklessness, but this is Serepes.”

“But the Grand Duke is absent.”

Because being kind and tender often corresponds with being timid.

The swordsmanship of Sword Master Orde, who trained until he had perfectly mastered it, is also called the epitome of Mectera.

“The Duke's sons are also here.”

…Though he still couldn't sleep due to Janya's death, and had shed tears upon seeing the surviving Beden.

The reason Orde was chosen as the Sword Master was also because Medeoban had no other choice.

“Your deputy, the Grand Duke's representative, is before me.”

In the end, not just anyone could become the Sword Master of Mectera.

Orde's jet black consumed the sword....

Clack.

“Father? Are you here?”

The power of the jet black suddenly drained away with the abruptly opened door.

Simurtr's voice. Orde reflexively suppressed his mana. He couldn't show a fierce side to his family, especially to his young son.

“Oh, Simyun. Right, I didn't tell you I was coming here. Yes, what is it, my son?”

Raphaelo's mouth fell slightly open. He looked at Orde with a look of disbelief.

“I came because there was something I couldn't tell you earlier… Ah. Sir Drecie is also here.”

Sir Drecie? Raphaelo's eyes turned to Simurtr. How could a father and son be so alike? He said he was an adopted son.

“Are you busy by any chance?”

“No, it's fine. What is it?”

The voice that had been like frost turned into a spring breeze. His gaze became quite benevolent. From Raphaelo's perspective, it was quite a trying sight.

“Ah. Since it's come to this, it would be better to tell Sir Drecie directly. It seems like the persuasion isn't going well anyway.”

“No. We were getting along quite well. Weren't we?”

“...We were just talking about declaring war.”

At Raphaelo's words, Orde's momentum became fierce again. Showing his back to Simurtr, he glares at him with menacing eyes.

“Declaring war is out of the question. Between fellow nobles of the Empire.”

Simurtr's eyes curved gently.

Anyone would think he was volunteering to mediate, but in reality, he wasn't. Raphaelo's lips twitched.

“Your form is just like a eunuch's.”

Because Serepes, of the Imperial Melken bloodline, was not a simple Imperial noble.

“Is that a compliment?”

“It could be seen that way.”

“We seem to get along quite well. I was just thinking the same thing about Sir Drecie.”

“What?”

Raphaelo's eyebrow twitched.

Come to think of it, Simurtr was a very eloquent one. It had been the same in front of the Black Tower.

“Isn't that so? They say those types keep their severed genitals at home, calling them treasures even as they rot.”

“...Shut up.”

As if conscious of his father, his tone was gentle, but its content was scathingly sharp.

“Serepes's genitals were quite small. Excessively rotten. I wonder why a mere 3-story building was so precious that you held it so dearly.”

“You bastard!”

Raphaelo shot to his feet. Crash! The chair he had been sitting on tipped backwards and shattered.

“Ah.”

Yet, Simurtr was nonchalant.

Perhaps he trusted the father in front of him, as he calmly continued speaking.

“Is it because you never had them in the first place?”

Raphaelo's eyes flipped.