Chapter 115: Anticipation is the Essence of a Gift (4)

Autumn was in full bloom in Sefira. The trees along the roads were golden yellow, their fallen leaves carpeting the ground like a grand, natural tapestry. Workers bundled in thick coats swept the leaves, their breath visible in the crisp air, while the steady rhythm of chopping wood filled the atmosphere. Amidst the cool breeze, the sweet aroma of pumpkin soup drifted gently through the estate.

“

Huff, huff.

”

A group of soldiers jogged through the grounds from dawn, their breaths ragged. At the front, a knight led the pack.

The morning runs had been introduced two weeks ago. Initially, both the soldiers and knights complained about the fatigue, but now, they couldn’t imagine starting the day without it.

As part of their route around the entire estate, they always passed by the Second Training Ground. All the soldiers were glancing toward the side rather than looking forward. The sharp sound of steel clashing and aura flaring filled the training grounds.

Clang! Boom! Whoosh!

While the soldiers could only see blurs of quick motion and eruptions of the ground, the knights could clearly see Anis fighting against three Diamond-class mercenaries.

He had abandoned his old bow and gotten a new one. It was a hybrid bow—a blend of a recurve and longbow that only had their unique benefits.

The battle went on for a long time. The thirty arrows he had in his quiver were quickly depleted, but he didn’t immediately resort to close combat.

Whoosh!

Instead, Anis formed an Aura Arrow on his bowstring.

The mercenaries tensed immediately, backing away. They knew his range was only a hundred meters, but they weren’t about to take chances.

However, Anis wasn’t going to sit back either. He chased after them, firing relentlessly.

The soldiers ran their morning lap past Anis, but he wasn’t the only spectacle. There was also Taragon, fighting against seven Platinum-class mercenaries at once. There used to be ten, but he had already taken down three.

Taragon’s transformation was even more striking than Anis’. Traditionally, archers wore light armor, as mobility was crucial and they didn’t consider engaging in close-range combat. However, he had adapted in favor of close-combat by wearing armor for knights. Of course, he had made it extremely thin in order to reduce weight in exchange for lower durability. In addition, he left the joint areas uncovered so that his movement was not limited.

Taragon’s combat style was unique. He still used archery like before in order to thin enemy numbers from afar. But when they got too close, he held his arrows and used them like daggers.

Thud! Whoosh!

He used the bow in his right hand like a staff, and the arrow in his left like a dagger. Instead of kicking, he focused on his steps.

A total of four Platinum-class mercenaries were able to get through the flurry of strikes and get close to Taragon. He was able to barely evade the fatal hits with his extraordinary dynamic visual acuity, and he was able to block the weaker attacks with his armor.

On the other hand, Taragon’s aura-filled attacks left grievous wounds even if they brushed past them. Soon after, the four mercenaries collapsed onto the floor.

Without a break, Taragon immediately began his next fight after fighting the ten Platinum-class mercenaries. However, the only person who came onto the stage was one Diamond-class mercenary. Taragon put his bow in his holster and approached the mercenary. Taragon raised his fists and the mercenary his sword, and the battle began.

“Do whatever you want to do.”

Taragon faithfully carried out what Keter had said. He did not insist on fighting multiple opponents at once, nor did he insist on using only archery. Just as he was now, he also fought one-on-one to learn how to handle swordsmen with martial arts.

Anis and Taragon were growing noticeably stronger by the day. Their foundation lay in the mercenaries who actively cooperated and generously shared their knowledge. And above all, it lay in Keter’s medical skills, which ensured that any injuries were instantly treated.

Ordinarily, no noble family, no matter how wealthy, would attempt such a training regimen. No matter how skilled a healer was, the trainee’s mental endurance would not hold up. Even if the body was healed, the mind would fester; they would become exhausted and broken.

Anis and Taragon were no exception. They were human, and it was mentally taxing. However, Keter had instilled in them a clear purpose and reason: winning the Sword of the South Tournament, and the fate of Sefira if they lost.

If these were the sticks, there was also a carrot. Just when they were about to despair, he would casually toss them key advice and elixirs. Their mental strength was tempered—they were struck, cooled, and reforged into steel.

“How about that? They’ve become quite useful, haven’t they?” Keter asked Burgundy.

Burgundy nodded.

“They have made remarkable progress. To grow this much in just two weeks... Their perception and skills have improved drastically. Even their aura has.”

“I spent some money.”

“I envy them.”

“What place do you think they can reach at the Sword of the South Tournament?”

Burgundy rolled his eyes, then smirked.

“Trying to extract information naturally, are you?”

“I’ve shown you plenty already, haven’t I? Isn’t this top-tier information? ‘Sefira’s disgrace, Keter—turns out he was a formidable warrior!’”

“What I’m most curious about is why you keep putting yourself in danger. Some people go so far as to commit murder just to keep their skills hidden.”

“Do you know why people hide their strength? It’s because they want peace, because they’re afraid, because they don’t want to fight.”

“So you’re the opposite?”

“Do I have to say it myself? I just wish a strong opponent would show up already.”

“If you want to fight powerful foes so badly, go to the Adeus Kingdom. It’s crawling with the kind of opponents you’re looking for.”

“I don’t want to go looking for them. I want them to come to me. No matter how strong I get on my own, it’s meaningless.”

“...You say some ominous things so casually.”

“I’m telling you to stop talking nonsense and give me the information. Unless you want to be my enemy.”

He wasn’t just threatening a mercenary; he was threatening the deputy director.

But Burgundy didn’t perceive it as a threat; it was rather a confirmation of whether he was his enemy, or not. If they were, they would fight, and if not, Keter would let him live. It was a straightforward question. There was no need to hesitate—Burgundy had no intention of becoming Keter’s enemy.

“Top thirty. Going beyond that will be difficult.”

“That’s pretty stingy. Not even the top twenty?”

“It’s not stingy. That’s my best-case scenario estimate.”

“The title of Sword of the South doesn’t just go to the strongest warrior. You have to achieve excellent results in three battlegrounds. Take the Eighth Sword of the South Tournament from twelve years ago, for example.”

Burgundy recalled the events of the eighth tournament.

“The Eighth Sword of the South was Zerphi Luban. At the time, he was a four-star knight. But did you know there was even a five-star master among the participants that year. If pure strength was all that mattered, why didn’t the master win?

“That was because Zerphi was special. From the deathmatch preliminaries, all the other contestants focused their efforts on eliminating him. In the team tournament, he ignored his team and fought alone, which caused his own team to be wiped out. In the individual tournament, he placed third, not first. Zerphi placed second, third, and second in the three categories. That’s how he became the champion.”

The more outstanding and noticeable one was, the more they were targeted. And among swordsmen, archers were bound to stand out the most. Not to mention, Sefira was a politically isolated family.

Burgundy’s point was simple: no matter how strong one was, if they were isolated, even a Master couldn’t do anything.

“No matter how much Anis and Taragon improve, they are still three-star knights. They can compensate for their lack of aura with skill and fire arrows that can challenge four-star knights, but only once. Even if they somehow survive the deathmatch and team tournaments, they won’t last in the individual tournament. By then, all their abilities will have been exposed. I think they will struggle just to keep up against three-star knights who are now wary of them.”

It was not an exaggeration, and there was no personal bias in what Burgundy was saying. It was pure, objective reality.

Keter stroked his chin.

“Then what about me? Where do you think I’ll place?”

“You...”

“You’re hesitating?”

“

Tsk

. I’ll give you top-secret information. Three Masters are competing in this tournament. It’s the second-highest number in tournament history.”

“Three masters? So, because they have three and I’m just one, I won’t be able to get first place?”

“It’s not just a numbers game. They... might be stronger than you.”

“Oh? All three of them?”

“Not all three. But two of them will definitely surpass you. That’s why I predict you’ll finish in fifth place.”

Burgundy subtly observed Keter's expression.

Is he going to get angry? Will he look troubled? Or force himself to stay expressionless to appear calm?

They were all wrong. Keter was smiling like a child receiving a gift, his face lit up with a radiant smile.

“I like it. I was worried it would be boring, but now I’ve got something to look forward to. Thanks.”

“...Aren’t you going to ask who they are? Knowing in advance would be a big help.”

“It wouldn’t be fun if I knew. That’s what makes a gift exciting. The essence of a gift is in the anticipation, not just the brief joy of receiving it. It’s the curiosity of what might be inside that keeps you up at night.”

“You’re insane.”

“You know me well. I’m the lunatic of this family.”

“This is the first time I’ve ever wanted to give someone information just because they told me not to.”

“Don’t. Don’t say a word.”

“I’ll just tell you one name. Don’t glare at me. Put your fist down. Your so-called gift’s anticipation won’t disappear. I’m only revealing the wrapping paper.”

“Who is it?”

“The Sword Dragon, one of the Seven Dragons, is participating.”

Whoosh!

Keter swung his fist. Burgundy dodged by a hair’s breadth.

“What’s wrong? If you love fighting, isn’t this exciting news?”

“The Seven Dragons? Those weaklings? Now my excitement has gone cold.”

“...I think you’re misunderstanding something. The Sword Dragon is one of the three Masters—a five-star Master.”

“You just ruined my mood. Take responsibility.”

Keter summoned Amaranth

.

Burgundy sighed and unsheathed his Aura Sword.

𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

* * *

“This felt like the shortest month of my entire mercenary career. Am I the only one feeling disappointed it’s coming to an end?” joked a Diamond-class mercenary.

The others seemed to share the sentiment, their expressions tinged with disappointment.

“If you’re willing to work for free, you can stay.”

At Keter’s words, the mercenaries turned to Anis and Taragon and shouted, “It was fun training with you these past weeks. If fate allows, let’s meet at the Sword of the South Tournament.”

“As swordsmen, this might be inappropriate to say, but we’ve told you all the weaknesses of sword fighters. You better not go down too easily against the knights.”

“Good luck!”

The mercenaries bid their farewells and left.

Anis and Taragon, who once harbored resentment toward mercenaries, had completely changed their minds. Not all mercenaries in this world were evil.

“And you? Here to volunteer for free work?”

Burgundy shrugged and pulled out a card, holding it out politely with both hands.

“Lord Keter El Sefira. I officially invite you to the Lillian Kingdom Regional Mercenary Headquarters. Please accept this.”

Keter reached out, taking the card. Then, he flicked his own business card as the Solver between his fingers and extended it.

“Take this.”

“Thank you. Then, I wish you victory.”

Burgundy accepted the card and departed.

Though only eighty-two mercenaries had left out of the thousands residing in Sefira, the emptiness felt immense.

But Anis and Taragon had no time to dwell on the void left by their departure.

As soon as the mercenaries left, a knight approached them.

“Lord Anis, Lord Taragon, and Lord Keter. I am Navakin of the Sacred Order Of Sefira. I have urgent news.”

Anis tensed.

“What is it?”

“The patriarch has convened a family meeting. At this moment, all members of the family, except for you three, are waiting in the council hall.”

Hearing that the entire family was waiting, Anis’ eyes widened.

That meant his father, the two elders, and Myle, the second-oldest, had arrived ahead of them and were already waiting.

“Keter, come with us. There’s no time to change clothes.”

Even if they hadn’t been informed in advance, keeping the elders waiting was unacceptable.

Cold sweat ran down Anis’ back. Ordinarily, running inside the estate was considered disgraceful for nobles. But this was no time to worry about dignity.

Anis dashed off first, Taragon quickly following behind.

Having gone two full months without sleep, Keter simply yawned and leisurely strolled along.