Chapter 75 : Chapter 75
Chapter 75: Bahab (2)
The next day.
Akarr, defeated in the duel, came to visit.
“Captain, we have a visitor.”
“Who is it?”
“Bahab.”
“Tell him weaklings aren’t allowed in here.”
Bang.
“Why did you suddenly come here and why the hell are you breaking down the door?”
Akarr forced his way in.
He was beet red.
“You. How dare you spread lies?”
“What lies.”
“I did not lose.”
“You lost.”
“Speak with respect. I am the heir of the Bahab Marquisate.”
“I’m the Grand General.”
“There is no honor in a title that is but a hollow name.”
“Bullsh*t. Want me to spread this too?”
“…I said I did not lose. Correct the lie.”
“You ran out of magic. Your sword broke. You knelt. What more do I have to do for you to lose?”
At Akarr’s words, Exa snorted.
And that was a general.
“I had just returned from a mission. I was not in good condition. I did not use my family’s secret technique, the Swelling Flame. It was an unfair duel…”
“Want to go again, then?”
“…I have heard the rumors about you. I have no intention of showing you the Swelling Flame’s secret technique.”
“Are you scared?”
“…Signs of a rift have appeared in the north. That is why the Grand Duke of the North visited.”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“You are coming too. Also, correct the lie first. Because of you, Bahab’s morale has dropped.
There is also chaos on the front lines. The noble Bahab losing to a mere commoner has caused a great…”
“My kids weren’t impressed.”
“Do you think the morale of your lowly unit will affect the front lines?”
“And yours does?”
“Of course. Because we are Bahab.”
“But I won?”
“I believe I said I was not in my right condition.”
“F*ck. Are you really a commander? Who the hell talks about their condition in a war?”
Trash who would die for honor, fame, and authority.
In just one day. Exa had finished his evaluation of Akarr Bahab.
***
The surrounding gazes were focused on him, but he paid them no mind.
Simurtr put a large piece of meat into his mouth and chewed it vigorously.
“They’re all doing that because they’re scared of the Black Sword. They’re spineless, they came here to look good to Bahab instead of thinking about building their own strength.”
Fear. Avoidance. It was sustenance that the strong should gladly accept.
Even the kind Orde did not react at all to such attention. It was the same for Aran. He was accepting such emotions as a matter of course.
The reason their expressions were not good was because they were worried about the still-young siblings.
“You guys should be proud of it too. You’re Mectera.”
For Aran, who had roamed the battlefields, it was a gaze and emotion he was truly familiar with.
Orde was foolishly kind, but he didn't go so far as to consider others' feelings. That disposition of his was concentrated only on the main castle.
“Get used to it. From now on, it will be like this wherever you go.”
It was right for the siblings to welcome such gazes as well.
And Simurtr himself too.
‘I am Mectera.’
I am Mectera. Simurtr repeated to himself inwardly and looked around.
Aran nodded as if it were natural, and Orde was looking this way with an expression of pride.
It wasn't the scene I wanted to see. Simurtr widened his field of vision further.
‘The entire banquet castle, excluding the waiting rooms, is a banquet hall.’
Simurtr was still on the 1st floor.
‘This is f*cking insane. How much money did they pour into this?’
Looking up, four floors could be glimpsed like a staircase. Those four floors were all banquet halls just like the 1st floor.
A 5-story castle. Due to its asymmetrical structure, it was said that from the 5th floor, one could see most of every floor.
And the center of that 5th floor was Akarr Bahab’s seat.
‘I am Mectera. A 16-year-old brat.’
Akarr was nowhere in sight.
Akarr, full of main-character syndrome, would appear when the atmosphere of the banquet ripened.
Until then, I had to calm my heart.
‘I can’t make a mistake.’
He would surely demand a meeting.
Because Mectera was a Hero Family like Bahab. It was a place where many eyes were gathered. Even if he looked down on them inwardly, he would feign respect on the outside.
‘It’s entirely possible for that bastard.’
He would meet them, and feel satisfied seeing Mectera respond to Bahab's invitation.
He would rejoice that Bahab, which had been a marquisate, now stood above Mectera, and he would probe about Gerehk.
‘Calm down.’
That was why Simurtr was currently repeating his identity to himself. He could not make a mistake in front of Akarr.
‘If I can’t hold it in, it’s over.’
Even the young Ael knew something was strange.
Ael was quick-witted, but older nobles possessed that level of perceptiveness by default.
Simurtr had to hide from them.
Even standing at Akarr’s feet, he must never reveal his inner thoughts.
A young Mectera overflowing with pride for the main castle, who admires heroes… but among them, admires the main castle’s hero, Exa Mectera, the most.
He had to pretend to be that.
“If that doesn’t resonate with you, then look at it individually. You guys are rather exceptional geniuses even among the main castle’s bloodline.”
“……”
“Over there. See? Brown hair. Your age. Besides him, that blond over there. There, and there too.”
Nevertheless, the reason he stimulated his surroundings and spoke to the siblings was because his pride was wounded.
It was a banquet held by Akarr Bahab to show off his power, a man who deserved to be torn to shreds right now.
“All of them are below you. There are no peers here better than you guys.”
To mere attendees who groveled at Bahab’s feet.
It was incredibly grating to see the young siblings lose their nerve.
“Except for me.”
Simurtr said so and put the remaining meat on his plate into his mouth in one bite.
“What about Hejel Bahab?”
At Ael’s remark, Orde emitted his magic.
As if bothered by the surrounding gazes, he brushed his clothes with his hand. It was to turn the gazes directed at the children towards himself.
“What about him.”
At the same time, Aran shielded Simurtr and the siblings.
His build was large enough to cover the three not-yet-fully-grown individuals.
“Today’s banquet is also to celebrate Hejel Bahab’s coming-of-age, isn’t it?”
“I know.”
“He’s 19. Two years older than us.”
Even though the interest had faded, Ael continued to beat around the bush.
“I know. What are you trying to say?”
“But they say he’s at the peak of the expert level. He reached it last year. He became an expert at 16.”
17 years old. The siblings had reached the expert level in the spring of that year.
“Expert? That’s something I did when I was 13.”
“……”
“The empire is abuzz with talk of him becoming a Sword Master at 20.”
“I already became one.”
“…That’s right.”
Ael found herself looking at Simurtr anew.
She had been impressed when he was in the main castle, but it resonated even more now that there was a subject for comparison.
“Think carefully. That guy named Hejel had Bahab as his master since birth. But me?”
Ael nodded.
It was different from the siblings who had an elder as their master. Simurtr had never learned from anyone.
That alone was amazing, but Simurtr was three years younger than Hejel.
He had surpassed him despite having an infinitely lacking background. It meant the gap in talent was much larger than what was visible.
“See? You guys should be conscious of me, not Hejel Bahab. Don’t burn with a sense of rivalry towards Bahab for no reason. It’s meaningless and unhelpful.”
It wasn't an age to compare if I included my past life.
But it wasn't wrong either.
The record for the continent's youngest Sword Master, set in his past life, had not been broken. The first day of his 19th year. That was the day Exa had reached the level of a Sword Master.
While Hejel Bahab was being praised as the next Sword Master candidate, Exa in his past life had already reached that level at the same age.
“Why are you looking elsewhere for no reason? There’s a much greater target right here, so close. Look at me. Set me as your goal.”
“You’re really something.”
“As long as you know. Bahab is no match for me.”
Simurtr said nonchalantly.
It wasn't aimed at Hejel. It was aimed at Bahab as a whole. Since Akarr had never surpassed Exa.
That was why Akarr, who prioritized bloodline, origin, and the authority derived from them, had respected Exa, at least to some extent.
“And 20? Bullsh*t. If he does, I’ll cut off my arm. My left one. Just because progress is fast doesn’t mean you’ll reach Sword Master quickly, that’s nonsense. Only those who are meant to be will be. And you guys will be.”
Although he hadn't seen Hejel Bahab yet, Simurtr was confident that these siblings couldn't possibly be inferior to Akarr's son.
***
Hejel Bahab’s birth banquet.
Naturally, the main character was Hejel Bahab.
And the master of Bahab, Akarr.
The main characters, the Bahabs, would supposedly appear when the banquet ripened.
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
The majority were flattering Bahab, congratulating Hejel, praising Akarr, or asking to convey their regards through their family or name.
Though all were lines unrelated to Haryun Bahab, she replied to each one.
In the banquet castle, the more distinguished the guest, the higher the floor they were invited to.
Those who could attend the 5th-floor banquet were few and far between. The imperial messenger, the delegate of the Grand Duke of the North, Basor, Lyuras, the Sage's Castle, the Ruo Holy See…….
All were names deserving of respect, and not a few had declared their absence. But anyway.
Among them, the name Haryun Bahab was looking for was not there.
On which floor would Harkinwagen be?
That was why Haryun Bahab, who had been on the 5th floor, was now descending the stairs, and she had also skipped the 4th floor.
Royalty from near the empire. Or nobles who came as representatives of other countries. It was not a floor permitted for the Harkinwagen County.
Bahab wanted Harkinwagen… but at the same time, did not particularly like them.
“Oh my.”
It was when she arrived on the 3rd floor that she discovered the Harkinwagen crest. As soon as she came down the stairs, Haryun discovered the crest of a standing white sword. It was the Harkinwagen crest.
Because it was bestowed upon a great sword.
Homer Harkinwagen had said so as he personally designed the crest of the bestowed castle as a white sword.
She had seen a record that the previous emperor had been furious about it.
“Lady Haryun?”
Confirming the owner of the voice, Haryun let out a sigh of relief.
A lively, pleasant light color. A height similar to her own. Long, vivid golden hair that concealed her back.
Fortunately, the other party was not the head of the Harkinwagen family.
‘…Golden?’
She had no intention of asking directly.
She only intended to pose a question discreetly.
Not to the family head, but to his daughter.
But before she could even ask the question, Haryun was at a loss for words. Golden. What about Egna Harkinwagen?
‘Brown.’
It wasn't just his hair. His eyes were like that too.
But the Ruina Harkinwagen before her had golden eyes as well.
Their appearances were completely different. Ruina Harkinwagen was beautiful, but it was a completely different kind of beauty from Egna’s.
‘It could be.’
But Haryun nodded.
Just because they were family didn't mean they all had to look alike. Haryun herself did not resemble her mother or brother.
“My name is Ruina Harkinwagen, you see?”
As Haryun just stared silently, Ruina introduced herself.
She was wearing a suit, not a dress, and she placed a hand on her chest and bowed.
“Ah. Is this the right way to greet you? I’m not very familiar with this kind of etiquette. I spend every day with those Black Land ba… people, so I just f*ck… I mean, play around.”
Ruina smiled brightly as she spoke.
Haryun felt that the smile was not at all similar, yet at the same time, she thought it was identical.
It wasn't the appearance or the smile that was similar, but the speech and behavior. Less like a noble and more like a battle-hardened warrior, without any pretense.
“Is Prince Egna alright?”
Haryun Bahab, having gained confidence, said.
***
‘How old is he, and he still hasn’t changed a bit.’
Simurtr.
He thought, recalling Akarr, who had yet to show his face. Still disgusting, but it was a joyous occasion.
The fact that the traitor was still the same made Simurtr happy.
The banquet was slowly ripening. The guests invited to the 5th floor, as befitting their reputation, were acquainted with each other.
Orde, who until a moment ago was asking a sage from the Sage's Castle about the well-being of the Elven Sage, was now striking up a conversation with the imperial messenger.
‘They’re all bigshots.’
There was no fear in the gazes directed at Orde.
They only showed interest or favor. Confident in their own abilities and origins. Bigshots who had no reason to be intimidated by the name Mectera and its relationship with Bahab.
The 5th-floor banquet hall was the place for such authorities.
“Young Master.”
He was staying by Simurtr’s side.
He was turning away attendees who came to greet them and pretending not to see acquaintances who were sending glances from not too far away.
“I know.”
“Young Master.”
“I said I know.”
Simurtr replied in annoyance.
Aran disliked banquets, but the reason he was stuck so closely to my side was obvious.
As if I were a child let loose by the water, Aran was afraid to leave Simurtr alone.
“I’m fine. I’m confident.”
“As if I wouldn’t know the Young Master.”
“I said I’m confident.”
“Going down to the lower floors is also an option.”
Aran said as if certain.
When he looked at my face, the young Exa came to mind, but what soon painted over it was the Grand General of the Doom War.
‘A total mess.’
The hooligan of the nobles. The idol of the soldiers.
The Young Master he remembered would never be able to hold back the moment he faced Akarr…….
“We’re going to face him anyway, aren’t we?”
“It’s a place where one adopted son can be absent, isn’t it?”
That was true.
Mectera’s youngest. An adopted son at that.
Whatever Akarr’s purpose was, it wasn't a very difficult thing for just Simurtr to be absent.
“No. I’m going. I must. If you take me out without my knowledge, I’ll flip this banquet castle and everything else over.”
Of course, I wasn't confident.
But it seemed possible, and I wanted to see him.
I knew it was an unreasonable demand. The Black Tower. The meeting with Gerehk Adre was a battle where I had felt many things.
‘If I die, it’s all over.’
The memories of my past life become meaningless, and the 16 years of reincarnation and living again become futile. That infancy, that growth period. How had I lived in this frustrating body?
To have everything fly away because I couldn't endure a single moment's desire was something hard to bear from any perspective.
But that desire was so huge, so intense. The traitor. The new goal in life gained through reincarnation.
‘They say you get sick if you hold it in too much. I’ve already held it in for 16 years.’
Of course, I would endure more. I wasn't going to get revenge right now.
Even if I wasn't at the level of my past life, I would begin in earnest once I reached a level where I could at least hold my own.
‘Just a look. Let’s just take a look.’
I simply wanted to capture my target with my eyes. I wanted to do that. I wanted to see Akarr Bahab's current appearance with my own two eyes.
That's how you get motivated, after all.
“Please look around. There will be many faces you do not recognize.”
Aran had noticed Simurtr’s thoughts.
He was making a resolution, but that itself was proof that he was engrossed. It meant he couldn't easily escape it, and it was time when the need for a change of air was felt.
“But there are surely familiar faces as well. It’s a shame the Grand Duke of the North is not here.”
“…What are you talking about.”
“She was your former fiancée, was she not?”
“What meaning would that have? It was broken off long ago.”
“Do you have lingering feelings? I suppose. Lushuala has grown up very well. She is one of the strong ones representing the North, no, the Empire.”
“Aran, you only see the sword, don’t you?”
“Is the Young Master not the same? Ah, if we are to speak of appearances, it is said that marriage talks for her are incessant not just in the Empire but throughout the entire continent.”
Simurtr smiled emptily.
Indeed. Aran, who could stay up for days and nights talking about the sword, was weak in conversations like this.
“That’s enough now.”
My narrowed vision widened. The banquet hall that felt like a single room expanded in volume.
In my past life, it would have been full of familiar faces. Now, there were more people I didn't know. I felt anew that the times had changed.
‘Well, I’ll see them someday.’
I had no intention of seeking out familiar faces.
In the first place, apart from my unit members, I didn't have many close acquaintances.
Wasn't that the reason they had visited the Hero Family's banquet? Most of the 5th-floor attendees had maintained friendly relations with other Hero Families, not Mectera.
‘It’s not like my kids are here either.’
Even if there had been someone I was close to in my past life, I would have ignored them. It would have been the same even if they were a unit member. What was important to Simurtr now was Akarr.
‘Akarr, Hejel.’
When would that mother and son appear? I was certain they would appear in the middle of the banquet.
‘It’s almost time.’
It doesn't take that long for a banquet hall to ripen. Among those who received an invitation from a Hero Family, there would be no one who was shy.
Shy nobles generally exist, but at least not here in this banquet castle.
Most knew each other and would not hesitate to get closer if the conditions were met. A banquet held at a ducal house was such a place.
‘Soon.’
The number of servants stationed here and there had suddenly doubled. The food prepared in the main hall was half gone, and gestures demanding alcohol flew from all directions.
Suddenly, the banquet hall became a notch brighter. All the lights were turned on. Simurtr sensed that it was now time for the main characters to appear.
‘They’re coming.’
Aran’s voice made my heart feel at ease and gave me the leisure to look around.
It was a chance that would not have come. A face I would never have been able to see again. Reincarnation. I had no intention whatsoever of flipping over a fully prepared table where I only needed to find a spoon to eat.
‘It’s fine.’
Beside me, Aran was fidgeting.
He wanted to send me out of the banquet castle right away. Simurtr didn't like that very much.
‘It’s not like I’m an idiot.’
Finally, Simurtr looked around.
The siblings, their tension eased, were looking at the stairs. They were anticipating the master of Bahab who would soon appear.
‘The Imperial Family.’
Orde was still with the imperial messenger.
The Imperial Family was certainly an uncomfortable opponent. It was so for Simurtr personally, and for the main castle as well.
The right to summary execution. The relationship with the Information Bureau formed because of it. No matter how much they were the sword of the empire, even as Mectera, they would not be pleased with the current treatment.
‘If it’s Orde who cherishes his family so much.’
He would not want the siblings to catch the Imperial Family’s eye. No parent wants to put a leash on their child.
“Ooh.”
The murmur in the banquet hall was growing louder.
The cheers that had been rising from the lower floors had now crept up to the 5th floor.
‘Akarr Bahab, eldest son Hejel Bahab.’
That mother and son were ascending the exclusive Bahab staircase.
Starting from the 1st floor, very leisurely.
As if to show off their dignity.
‘5 lines.’
Simurtr instinctively began to observe his own state.
The muscles throughout his body felt lively, and the magic in his heart was like new. 5 lines of Pagna. His spread-out hand caressed the pommel of his sword.
A habit from his past life. To meticulously check his condition before a battle.
‘No.’
Soon, Simurtr spread open the hand that had been gripping the pommel. He shook his head vigorously.
This wasn't a place for that. The reason he had filled up 5 lines of Pagna for the banquet was just a habit, not because he was anticipating a battle.
‘…Akarr is.’
Thud.
Simurtr felt that Akarr had begun to step on the final flight of stairs.
He was right behind me. A distance that could be covered in just one step if I put my mind to it.
‘Let’s get rid of the Sword Net too.’
He painstakingly shrunk the Sword Net that was trying to expand to its limit. If instinct anticipated a battle, he just had to eliminate all reasons for it.
‘For now, just as I please. If something feels off, don’t do it.’
I recalled my master’s words.
Did it feel off? Without needing to ask, if I did as I pleased, I would die. Reincarnation was such an opportunity.
‘That son of a b*tch.’
The footsteps sounded loud, as if right next to me.
They grew louder. The more Akarr climbed the stairs, the closer he got, the louder they became.
…Flat ground. Simurtr identified it by the sound, and.
“The hero has arrived.”
At someone’s cry, he turned around.
“…Akarr.”
Like looking at a flame, blazing red hair, red eyes, and the wrinkle-free skin characteristic of Bahab.
Thanks to Bahab’s secret technique, the Swelling Flame, the passage of time did not show on his appearance. The gaze that confirmed his face naturally scanned his attire.
Clothing, not armor.
But… the sword at his waist.
With that sword, the left-handed Exa’s left arm was cut off.
Then, when he tried to cut off the right arm, his neck was severed.
“Akarr Bahab.”
The traitor, Akarr.
The same face as in his past life. The same sword.
Akarr Bahab, far in the distance, had the exact same face as when he had killed his past self.
“Just like a f*cking puppet.”
And such behavior. The face. The sword.
“Ha.”
…It was more.
It was more bearable than I thought.
“Haha.”
It was different from when I first saw Haryun Bahab.
What was so great then that I laughed like that?
This was the difference between the real and the fake.
A substitute can never surpass the real thing.
“…Are you that pleased?”
Aran, who had been watching from the side with worried eyes, asked.
To be rashly impressed by the fact that the size of his patience had changed from his past life, that he had grown further by reincarnating.
“Don’t you dare touch him. That bastard is mine.”
The image of a madman laughing brightly with bloodshot eyes.
Was a gruesome sight even for Aran, who had been through all sorts of things.