Chapter 224: A Dunce From the Masters of Spears Hides A Sword (3)

“I’m Keter. What’s your name?”

“Orion. I have a surname, but I don’t use it. But... Could you please let go of my hair now?”

“Oh. It felt so good in my hands that I forgot I was holding onto it.”

Slipping free from Keter’s grasp, Orion stepped out of the treasure pile on his own. His clothes were torn and ragged, and the blue bruises and dried blood beneath them hinted at a brutal ordeal.

“Pass.”

Keter nodded in approval.

Orion glanced at the Queen Rock Ant’s corpse and gave an approving nod of his own.

“You’re strong, Mr. Keter. Not as strong as me, of course.”

Even though he was scraped up everywhere except his face, Orion had the nerve to call Keter decent. It sounded like maybe Orion was an incredible warrior.

“What are you babbling about, weakling?” Keter said, raising his hand as if to slap him again.

However, Orion neither dodged nor defended, almost as if he didn’t care if Keter hit him again.

Of course, Keter never hesitated.

Slap!

Orion’s cheeks puffed red and his eyes welled up with tears, but he stood tall. Keter liked that about him.

“Lucky, stubborn, and gutsy... You’ve earned the right to tell your story.”

“I don’t want to tell you.”

“Then die here.”

“It all started when I was harvesting sweet potatoes...”

Orion tried to summon his storyteller spirit, when unwelcome guests arrived.

Skreeek?!

They were Rock Ants that had arrived late to guard their queen. Upon seeing her corpse, they grew frenzied and charged recklessly. However...

“Shall I keep going?” Orion asked calmly.

“Yeah.”

Keter turned around and fired Aura Arrows to hold off the swarm, and Orion continued as he stared at Keter’s back.

“I was harvesting some sweet potatoes when two men who looked extremely suspicious came up to me. They grabbed my face, looked me over, drew my blood, and suddenly started calling me a lord...”

Orion’s tale sounded familiar, yet just a little off.

“...So of course I said, ‘I’ve been waiting. Please whisk me away to live a life of luxury.’ I was obviously a noble bastard child. I was the most handsome man in the village, and my mother always had this mysterious look about her. But then Allen—oh, Allen was one of the two men who came to find me—said the Browning family didn’t need weaklings, and that he would test me. My first thought was, ‘I’m screwed.’ Whew, hang on, I’m out of breath. Do you have any water? Doesn’t look like it.”

Orion flopped to the ground to catch his breath. Meanwhile, Keter kept unleashing arrows, and with that, the ant corpses piled up.

“Anyway, I failed the test. Allen told me that even an idiot would seem like a genius compared to me. It was unfair because my sword is here, in my heart. My mother always said that no legendary blade or sword style can match the sword you hone in your heart. I was just too busy sharpening my heart’s sword to bother with swordsmanship.

“Allen never understood, no matter how I explained. He demanded I show him my heart’s sword, but I refused. Because once you draw the heart’s sword, you can never sheathe it again... and it should only be drawn to protect what’s most precious. That’s what my mother always said. So Allen drew his sword and told me if I valued my life, I should draw it. Well, as you can see from how I look now, I didn’t draw it. It was partly on principle, but mostly because his yelling was annoying.”

For the first time, Keter replied, “You like refusing those who think they’re strong, don’t you? Even if it costs you your life?”

“Exactly! You understand me, Mr. Keter. After that, it was the usual: beatings to near death, threats to kill my family. None of it worked, so they said they had no use for a half-wit like me and tossed me into this ant nest.”

“If they didn’t need you, why not just kill you on the spot?”

“They said if I was angry or bitter, I should survive and take revenge with my heart’s sword. But honestly, I just wanted to live, so I hid in the treasure pile.”

Orion’s tale was so perfectly structured that Keter found himself impressed.

“You avoided the ants’ notice because you have a deficient physique, right?”

Having a deficient physique was a curse—it meant that one couldn’t absorb aura or mana. However, it wasn’t without its advantages; it was considered ideal for assassins because even the untalented carried faint traces of mana or aura that gave them away, while deficient physiques were utterly undetectable. That was why Keter hadn’t noticed Orion buried among the treasure.

“I don’t know what it means, but Allen said something like that.”

“Whatever. Now, the earrings in your pocket: where did you get them?”

It wasn’t by chance that Keter had grabbed Orion by the hair. He had simply reached in the direction of where he could feel the Oath of Death, and Orion just happened to be there, meaning that he was holding onto it.

“I stole them from Allen right before they threw me down here. His face when he realized that I had it was priceless.”

“A thief, too? What a talent.”

“...Huh?”

Whip!

Keter hurled Amaranth like a boomerang, slaying the last Soldier Rock Ant, then rested a hand on Orion’s shoulder.

“Welcome to Arcana, rookie.”

* * *

Orion had many qualities Keter liked: talkative without being obnoxious, proud without being stubborn.

“Mr. Keter, if you mean to spare my life, I am grateful. But I have no desire to bind myself to any group.”

Orion rejected Keter’s proposal outright. It wasn’t the kind of coy refusal meant to raise his own value, either. Even with his life on the line, he wouldn’t bend his convictions. That was exactly the kind of character Keter valued most: pride and confidence.

That’s the difference between a man who dismisses dreams as fantasies and one who strives to realize them in reality.

Keter was certain that Orion wouldn’t budge, no matter the torture or threat. Keter understood that well, because he was the same, and because of that, he also knew how to handle him.

“Sixty gold a month, and food and board. And since I’m from Sefira, you’d be staying as Sefira’s guest.”

“I had my suspicions after seeing your archery. That kind of skill could only belong to a Sefira archer. But as I said, I’m a bastard of the Browning family. If they learn I’m alive, can Sefira really protect me?”

“I doubt Browning would risk crossing Sefira just to drag you back.”

“That’s only because they don’t yet know my worth. Once I draw the sword within my heart, there will be no rival.”

“Do you even intend to draw it?”

“If I must, I will. But honestly, I don’t know if that day will come. My mother always said a sword was best left sheathed. I appreciate that you recognize my potential, Mr. Keter, but I can’t wield the sword in my heart for Sefira.”

Orion was firm on his decision.

Keter scoffed and replied, “You think I’m hiring you as a warrior? I’m hiring you as a clown. Sefira could use a loudmouth like you.”

Keter didn’t view Orion as a warrior, but it wasn’t because he didn’t believe in the sword in Orion’s heart; he knew that it was a state of martial mastery that actually existed: Mindsword. Like Unity, it wasn’t achieved by sheer aura but by spiritual discipline and enlightenment.

Mindsword was impossible to block or defend against. It had no windup, only outcome; no form, only intent that bent reality itself. It could not be defended against by physical means, yet it was not invincible. Mindpower could resist the Mindsword, though this power was harder to attain than aura or mana. Still, it was more accessible than the Mindsword.

“I am no clown,” Orion said.

His mood seemed to have soured, but it wasn’t from being denied recognition as a warrior.

“If you’re not a warrior or clown, then what can you do?” Keter asked.

“...I can farm, but I would rather not. I’m best at eating and lazing about. I’m useless, really. Why are you trying to hire me?”

“Sefira is too quiet. Someone like you would liven things up.”

“I could do that, but... isn’t your real intent to use me as a political pawn? After all, I’m still a Browning!” Orion said, puffing out his chest proudly despite his ragged state.

Keter was the only one who would entertain such claims. Anyone else would have dismissed Orion’s claims of him being the bastard child of Browning, the strongest family in the kingdom, and having a Mindsword that none could withstand. Put nicely, Orion sounded like a bluffer. Less kindly, he came off as a lunatic spouting nonsense that could get him stoned in the streets.

Of course, Keter didn’t believe it all. Not because it was obviously a lie, nor because he knew Orion from his past life.

“Whether you’re Browning’s bastard or not, whether you have the Mindsword or not, I don’t care. I just like your shamelessness.”

“There are plenty of shameless men in my village.”

“But none better than you.”

“...!”

Orion found himself nodding, though it was hardly something to be proud of.

“You can refuse if you want, but you’ve got five seconds. I’ll just take those earrings from your pocket and let you go.”

Orion wasn’t worth forcing into recruitment, so Keter gave him a final chance.

“I’ll go to Sefira,” Orion said with his hand over his chest, his eyes gleaming. “The sword in my heart is telling me to go to Sefira.”

“Do you even have anywhere else?”

“...Ugh, suddenly dizzy...”

Orion pretended to collapse, and Keter caught his hand.

“Just borrowing this.”

Keter pulled out a pair of earrings from Orion’s pocket. It was the Oath of Death—the last treasure he had been searching for was finally in his grasp.

* * *

Keter climbed back to the surface with Orion and Decameron, and they were met by a number of groups. They were dressed like mercenaries, but their refined energy was more like a knight. One man who seemed to be their representative stepped forward and introduced himself.

“I’m River, Grand Leader of the Gale Squadron of the Ultima Trading Company. I answered Mr. Keter’s signal and flew here.”

That wasn’t just a figure of speech. Behind them were wyverns with saddles on them. The entire Gale Squadron was wyvern riders.

“This mine was connected to that Rock Ant nest. I cleared them all out. Have Ultima haul off the materials.”

“You cleared the Rock Ant nest... by yourself?”

River couldn’t believe it. Even as a five-star Master, Rock Ants were a pain to deal with. They were tough as hell and numerous; they were not something one fought solo.

“Also, take this guy to Sefira,” Keter said, nudging Orion forward.

River shook his head.

“Mr. Keter, going into a Rock Ant nest is far too dangerous. Even if you cleared out most of them, the queen should still be alive...” River protested, uneasy.

Keter’s brow twitched.

“Are you deaf? I said I cleared them all out. The only living things inside the nest are the miners who were kidnapped. You just need to go in and pick them up.”

Orion sidled up beside River and added, “What Mr. Keter is saying is true. I was right there.”

River had heard the rumors about Keter and knew that Keter was the Bow of the South, but he still could hardly believe it. A single Soldier Rock Ant usually required a Master to handle. Even if Keter had managed to kill one of them, Rock Ants lived and fought as a swarm. The Queen Rock Ant also had incredible defenses, but dozens of Soldier Rock Ants would have been protecting her.

River couldn’t believe that one man had slain whole swarms and even the queen?

Unless he’s a seven-star Prime... how could that be possible?

River, who had only witnessed the power of a six-star Grandmaster, didn’t grasp the huge variance that could exist among Grandmasters.

“All right... then. We’ll send a team to inspect the mine first. If it’s safe, we’ll carry out the recovery operation.”

River then put Orion on a wyvern.

Pointing at his own mount, River added, “Mr. Keter, you should ride with us. Let us take you to Sefira.”

“No, I’m fine.” Keter declined.

Then he slipped the Oath of Death’s right earring—borrowed from Orion—into his own ear.

River swallowed.

He’s crazier than the rumors made him out to be.

River was quick-witted, so he knew enough not to ask any questions, but he couldn’t understand Keter’s behavior. Perhaps this was why his voice carried a heavy caution.

“Lord Ultima expects you to return with us, Mr. Keter. If I may ask, why not go back to Sefira with us...?”

Keter shrugged as he clipped the other earring into Decameron’s left ear.

“Tell them I went to commit suicide,” he said nonchalantly.

It wasn’t exactly a lie. Fighting Hyperion, the student of the Fist Emperor—one of the Four Emperors—was nothing short of suicide anyway.