Chapter 62 : Chapter 62

Chapter 062: The Sword Fiend is Coming

While Bolero stepped out briefly to check on something, I focused on recovering.

I was in much better shape compared to when I first woke up in the cave.

‘…I really almost died.’

The thought hit me belatedly.

Normally, a typical wound would heal in three or four days at most, but I was still in this state.

Traces of blood gushing out lingered all over my body.

‘It’s probably too soon to wield a sword.’

The moment I reached for the hilt, Bolero kicked the door open as if he were breaking it down.

His face was flushed with excitement.

“Hahahaha…”

“What’s that about?”

“Come here, Imperial youth.”

There was something eerie about his smile.

Curiosity alone compelled me to follow.

From the outside, I hadn’t noticed, but the interior of the mountain lodge was surprisingly spacious.

It was a structure of several log cabins connected together.

“Arno, that cunning bastard. Building a hideout like this and staying so well-hidden.”

Bolero growled as if his anger hadn’t subsided, yet the corners of his mouth stretched to his ears.

He cracked his knuckles.

“I’ll scrape it all up and take it. Heh heh heh.”

Sacks of food and stacks of firewood were piled everywhere.

A rough estimate suggested there was enough to last a year comfortably.

“Here.”

We stopped at a door at the end of the corridor.

A chain, likely a lock, lay broken in pieces on the floor.

Creak.

Bolero opened the door.

The scene before me grew brighter.

“This is…”

The small storeroom was filled with treasures.

Gems and ornaments sparkled in every direction, while gold and silver coins covered the floor like sand.

There were also plenty of ornate ceremonial armors.

“This is all the blood and sweat of the serfs. Think this is it? Plenty of nobles had their wealth stolen by these guys too. They intimidated without hesitation, I hear. Bold bastards.”

I surveyed the area, half-dazed.

Bolero’s muttering went in one ear and out the other.

Even a saint detached from worldly desires would struggle to stay calm.

It was that overwhelming.

“I see. Are you planning to track down the owners and return it all? That’s a lot, though.”

My eyes darted around as I blurted out whatever came to mind.

I barely knew what I was saying.

Each careless step sent silver coins clinking and sliding across the floor.

A chilling laugh came from behind.

“Exactly. It’s a lot.”

A shiver ran through me.

Turning, I saw Bolero grinning wickedly, practically drooling.

“Instead of the hassle of distributing it bit by bit, it’d be better to pool it in one place and make it grow. Love and happiness double when shared, you know.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This could be a huge help to the small but precious Conwell branch, don’t you think? Good deeds require money, after all.”

Bolero rummaged through his cloak and pulled something out.

It was a white hawk, limp with its tongue hanging out.

“This one gift should be enough for Viscount Mosfield, right? Hahaha!”

I looked back and forth between Bolero’s bright smile, the white hawk in his grip, and the piles of treasure before me.

Was this what they called greed born from the sight of wealth?

‘No.’

In my past life, I didn’t even live thirty years.

Subtract the childhood spent as an outcast in my family and my military days, and there’s little left.

Even then, the life of a noble and a soldier differed in intensity.

In other words, the identity of Bihen Benkou, the centurion, still defined me clearly.

I pointed at the white hawk.

“I caught that.”

What’s the most critical virtue for a field commander?

Strategic foresight?

Situational judgment and decisiveness?

Those are basic.

The ability to secure one’s share in the distribution of merits.

Claiming credit diligently and sharing rewards with subordinates to maintain their loyalty—that’s the essential quality of a commander, or so I firmly believed.

So I emphasized again.

“I caught it, I said.”

Bolero pursed his thick lips.

He was a man who didn’t bother hiding his thoughts.

“Old sayings never lie. Save a drowning man, and he demands your baggage.”

“Didn’t you say it was just doing what needed to be done?”

“…So what, you want a cut? I didn’t take you for that kind of guy. You’re brimming with greed, aren’t you?”

I didn’t hold back a scoff.

Raising one eyebrow at Bolero, I countered.

“This money—you’re donating it to the Solari branch in Conwell. Are you serious?”

“What? Of course…! Why suddenly…?”

“Just checking. I’m embarrassed that my share's so small. If I’d known, I’d have gritted my teeth and helped more.”

“Uh, uh…?”

“If it’s for a good cause, I can’t sit out. Make sure my name’s on the donor list.”

Adeline was the sole figure who spearheaded the establishment of the Solari branch in Conwell.

She was the only one, they said.

When other lords and nobles refused, Adeline alone welcomed Solari.

‘Adeline’s a meticulous woman. There’s definitely something to it.’

For now, I’d dip my toes in like this.

A kind of insurance, perhaps.

Who knows, maybe it’ll double and come back, as this guy said.

‘He doesn’t seem like the type to play dumb, either.’

As I glanced at Bolero, I nearly jumped.

His eyes were moist, practically brimming with tears, as if he were genuinely moved and about to burst into sobs.

“Imperial youth…!”

My eyes widened.

Call it survival instinct.

I barely dodged Bolero as he lunged like a beast.

Embracing empty air, Bolero stumbled, then sank to the ground, covering his eyes with his hand.

“Forgive me for doubting you, even for a moment! To think ill of such a virtuous youth!”

His trembling voice soon turned into a wail.

“I’ll confess honestly! I was the one swayed by temptation! I foolishly thought skimming a bit wouldn’t hurt! You guided this ignorant fool! The saint said there’s a teacher in every being under heaven! Thanks to you, I’ve finally found enlightenment!”

Was he infusing mana into his voice?

The booming resonance pierced my ears, making my head ring.

“Too small a share? Nonsense! I’ll donate it all in your name! It’ll be a grand mark for the Conwell branch! Don’t refuse! Compared to the enlightenment I’ve gained, it’s but a drop of blood!”

I felt awkward.

Scratching the back of my head, I glanced at the white hawk sprawled beside the kneeling Bolero.

As the saying goes, “In a group of three, there’s always a teacher.”

A bird of prey raised by bandits had died and left a lesson for a human.

* * *

Snowy ridges stretched in gentle curves.

This mountain range separated the demonic realm from human lands.

Its majestic presence felt almost sacred.

“Imperial youth, can you walk?”

“I’m fine.”

“Mountains are trickier to descend than to climb. Much like human life.”

Bolero’s shadow on the snow was twice the size of mine.

He’d insisted on taking all the treasures, even modifying the wooden sled that had carried me.

“We’ll head to Belmont first. Viscount Mosfield’s domain. It’s a small rural village compared to Conwell, but it has its charm.”

“No time to enjoy the scenery. I’d like to hurry.”

“Maybe in the Empire, but in the Kingdom, travel between domains isn’t simple. Each domain has its own laws to follow. Act recklessly, and you’ll be chased for life for insulting a lord.”

I knew that.

Unlike the Empire, where power radiates from the Emperor, the Kingdom is a federation of nobles.

Above the lords ruling each region sits the king, more a symbol than a ruler.

Each lord essentially reigns like a king over their own small nation.

Take Conwell, for example.

The Conwell family, as hegemons of the continent’s east, wields power rivaling the king in the capital.

Crunch, crunch.

Descending wasn’t difficult.

Arno’s gang had paved the path well.

My breath puffed white against the snow, reflecting sunlight transparently.

I gazed at the sun hanging over the distant ridge.

“Where’s the Solari main order located?”

“The capital, Aleos. Come visit sometime. I’ll personally welcome you as a VIP.”

“The capital… the continent’s west.”

A sound stirred in my ears.

The shouts and furious hoofbeats from the day we trampled the capital.

I glanced at Bolero.

“How’s the west these days? Peaceful? Or…”

“Ha! Peace?”

Bolero pinched one nostril and blew his nose loudly.

“What nonsense. Step outside the capital, and the world’s in chaos. The knights’ factions and magic schools are at each other’s throats. Compared to that, the east is paradise.”

I nearly asked about rumors from the Empire but stopped, worried I’d look like a guilty thief.

Bolero suddenly clenched his fist.

“The more turbulent the times, the heavier my burden as a Solari priest. My life’s mission is to create a world where these fists are no longer needed.”

My gaze, lingering on Bolero’s twitching mustache, shifted to the mountain of treasure sacks behind him.

…Well, bigger good deeds do require money.

Night fell quickly, so we found a spot to rest.

With mountain game aplenty, food wasn’t a concern.

Two days passed in the mountains.

Finally, the modest outline of Belmont, surrounded by walls, came into view below the hill.

“Show your identification and line up!”

Security from the Morundayle Mountains was tight.

A long queue stretched before the open gate.

Pairs of gate guards openly scrutinized those waiting to pass.

“Solari Order from Aleos.”

Our turn.

The gate captain flipped Bolero’s identification back and forth.

“No worries. I’m not here to preach. Solari forbids proselytizing anyway.”

“…Hmm. What’s that you’re carrying?”

“This? You’re curious about everything. Just my luggage. Look at my size. This is barely stuffed full.”

“Fine. And the one beside you?”

The captain returned the identification, shifting his gaze to me.

Bolero answered for me.

“This guy’s a trainee priest, so he doesn’t have identification yet. I’m his guarantor.”

“No identification, but he’s got a name, doesn’t he? We can’t have gaps in the entry log.”

A name is a person’s root.

In the Empire, failing to proudly declare one’s name is shameful.

I straightened my shoulders and said,

“Bihen Benkou.”

“…!”

The captain’s eyes widened.

For a moment, the nearby guards stopped and stared.

Was it my imagination? It lasted only a second.

“…Ahem! Right, then. Go on in.”

I scanned the soldiers, each seemingly struggling to maintain composure.

‘I can’t exactly grab and interrogate them.’

No turning back now.

Just then, Bolero patted my shoulder.

“Let’s go in, Bihen.”

He, too, seemed to sense something.

His tightly pressed lips vanished into the shadow of his mustache.

Though I’d known him only a few days, the shift in his demeanor was palpable.

His hand on my shoulder seemed to say, Don’t make trouble here.

I moved forward, ignoring the stares following me.

“Looks like we need to tweak the plan. I was hoping to show off to Viscount Mosfield.”

Bolero muttered as if using ventriloquism, mindful of our surroundings.

I whispered back.

“They’re not asking about me.”

“Don’t care. I trust only what I see and hear. And we agreed, didn’t we? We’ll head to Conwell together, then talk.”

Impressive.

His bulk wasn’t just for show.

Still.

How should I interpret their reactions?

I hadn’t done anything notorious enough outside Conwell to warrant such wariness.

It didn’t seem like they were shunning me for being an Imperial, either.

In fact, they didn’t even seem to know I was from the Empire.

“So, the plan? Leaving right away?”

“No. First, we deal with this cumbersome luggage.”

Bolero hefted the load on his back and continued.

“Let’s find those sewer rats first. Believe it or not, I’m pretty tight with them.”

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