Chapter 71: Stop—Are You Pulling A Fast One on Me? (3)

The first word Gyro remembered was “genius.” He vividly recalled his father and mother always saying that to him.

“Gyro, you’re a genius!”

He didn’t know what the word meant, but he loved seeing his parents smile. No matter what he did, they praised him and lifted him up, calling him a genius.

“You understand what taxes mean?! Gyro, you’ll surely become the kingdom’s greatest chancellor!”

“You want to learn swordsmanship? No one your age in this country has ever said that! How remarkable!”

Seeing his family so happy made him feel good. The expectations they placed on him didn’t feel like a burden. After all, he was a genius; he quickly learned swordsmanship, and he could easily build muscle.

“Father, I’m going to become a knight. I want to be the kingdom’s Greatest Swordsman and bring honor to the Shubil family.”

At nine years old, Gyro declared his aspirations to his father. His father, who had always supported him, hesitated for a moment.

But then, with a broad smile, he replied, “You absolutely will.”

In the southern region of the Lillian Kingdom, the Shubil family, customs officers in a small village of about five hundred people in the Argen territory, produced their first—and last—knight: Sir Gyro Shubil.

After leaving the village, Gyro returned fifteen years later, now a proud royal guard of the kingdom. The village held a festival to celebrate his return, and the Shubil family welcomed him with overwhelming joy.

“A royal guard! To think that our family produced someone to serve Her Majesty in such an honorable position. Gyro, thanks to you, I can share in that honor. Thank you, truly!”

“Haha, Father. It’s too early to celebrate. I’m preparing for the Sword of the South Tournament. You haven’t forgotten my dream, right?”

“Yes, your dream to become the kingdom’s greatest swordsman. How could I forget? But, you know...”

His father, the patriarch, called Gyro aside to speak with him privately in a quiet place.

“Gyro, I want you to stop here.”

“What? I’m just getting started. I understand your concern, but I’m already a three-star knight. Look.”

Gyro confidently summoned an Aura Sword in his hand.

“Do you know this? Once you reach the level of a three-star knight, no matter how many ordinary people come at you, they can’t win. I couldn’t believe it myself at first, but now that I’ve become a three-star, I understand. My senses are sharper, and my precision is unmatched. Father, pick up a handful of dirt. I can count how many grains of sand are in it.”

“That’s impressive. But tell me, can you do this?”

His father pointed toward the banquet hall.

“Could you kill every person in that room?”

At his father’s words, Gyro flared up in anger.

“Father, are you drunk? Those are the people of our village! Our family is there, too. Can’t you see Mother overjoyed, holding the youngest in her arms?”

“I see her. That’s why I’m telling you this now. Stop.”

“Why? What does it even matter?”

“Gyro... you’ve been through a lot already. You’ve faced life-threatening situations, and I’m sure you’ve been mentally drained and exhausted. But I tell you this: what you’ve gone through so far will be nothing compared to what lies ahead.”

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

“Son, no matter what choices you make, remember this.”

His father tightly clasped Gyro’s right hand in both of his own and said in a resolute voice, “Once you start something, see it through to the end.”

“That’s exactly what I intend to do. You seem drunk. Go inside and rest.”

“I’ll go first. Don’t tell your mother about this.”

“Alright.”

His father couldn’t bring himself to tell his son the truth that if someone like him, with no connections, began to stand out, their unremarkable family wouldn’t remain safe. The high noble houses of the Lillian Kingdom did not look kindly upon rising stars. They crushed them thoroughly or turned them into subservient pawns.

His father left the fate of the Shubil family in Gyro’s hands—to fight the upper nobles or bow to them.

Three years later, the result of that choice became clear.

“What are you doing in the middle of the night?!”

“Silence! We’ve received a report that you’ve embezzled national funds. If you’re innocent, submit to an investigation peacefully!”

Soldiers stormed the Shubil family estate, leaving the mansion in shambles. They even brazenly looted valuables in broad daylight.

“Hmph, you’ve hidden it thoroughly! Let’s see if you can keep it up next time,” the noble scoffed.

Gyro chose to stand against the high nobles. But the price wasn’t paid by Gyro—it was paid by the Shubil family.

“Don’t tell Gyro. I don’t want to become a burden to him.”

Not everyone agreed with his decision. Some vassals left, and the servants did not renew their contracts. The high nobles relentlessly harassed the Shubil family.

Gyro’s father was reassigned to a distant customs office, far from the one near their home, and the second eldest son was denied admission to the academy. Even the villagers, who had once been friendly toward the Shubil family, turned their backs.

“Because of you, our taxes have doubled! Leave this village immediately!”

“My child was conscripted! My only son! What am I supposed to do now?!”

“Get out! I won’t sell you anything—not even spoiled goods!”

The high nobles’ retaliation was petty and vicious. The Shubil family was left with no way to endure.

This led to the younger son pleading with his father.

“Father, please contact Gyro. If this keeps up, we’ll all die. We’ve done enough. Why should I and Mother die for his sake?”

“You ungrateful brat!”

His father slapped him and turned away, tears streaming down his face.

“Tomorrow is the Sword of the South Tournament. Do you know what that means? The strongest fighters in the south will gather there. Instead of supporting your brother, you’re trying to add to his burden!”

“What about my dreams? My life? Do they mean nothing to you, Father?”

“If you can’t endure it, leave—like your younger sibling.”

“...Fine. Let this family fall apart for all I care.”

And so, the second eldest son left the Shubil family as well. The patriarch and his wife were left alone to protect their home. With no money left, all the servants departed. Only three vassals remained, their loyalty unshaken, but they were all elderly.

Despite no prior experience, the family took up farming to sustain themselves. Their nails broke, insects bit them, and they even chewed on tree bark in hunger, breaking their teeth.

Amidst their desperate struggle, salvation came. Gyro became the Seventh Sword of the South, defeating the youngest son of a master family in the final match and claiming a glorious victory. The royal family immediately bestowed upon Gyro the title of high noble, along with a fief and a mansion—not in a village but a city.

Eager to share the good news, Gyro returned to his hometown, only to be shocked. The family’s mansion was in ruins. There wasn’t a single sign of life.

“Wait a minute.”

Keter waved his hand, interrupting the story.

“At this rate, you’re going to talk about your entire honeymoon next. I get it; your life’s been tragic. Now, are you going to Sefira or not?”

“I’ll tell you the rest later, but to summarize, it’s as you said. I stumbled upon this nation’s secrets, and I tried to escape. But I was caught, and my entire family was massacred. That’s when I made my decision to take revenge on the root of it all—Lillian,” Gyro said firmly and without hesitation.

“Even if my soul is devoured by the Demon Sword, even if I have to bow and call a child my boss, and even if I must live as a drunkard in someone else’s household, I will see this through.”

“I’ve never seen someone drag out their decision that long,” Keter said.

“It’s the romance of my times. Hahaha!”

Laughing heartily, Gyro slammed the table and stood.

Crash!

The massive greatsword on his shoulder knocked over a ceiling beam.

“Ah, I’m still a bit drunk...”

Gyro sheepishly glanced at Joyray as he slinked away.

Keter, despite being the one who would have to pay for the damage, laughed. Though Gyro seemed fine now, once the alcohol wore off, he would undoubtedly cause chaos, something on an entirely different level from the current mess.

“Kekeke, too bad I won’t be able to see Reganon and Panir, those old geezers, struggling to subdue Gyro.”

Of course, no matter how much trouble Gyro caused, he wasn’t entirely out of his mind. It wasn’t as if he was going to commit murder or anything. Plus, his rampages would actually benefit Sefira; they would shake up the complacent knights and rekindle the dormant emotions of violence.

“Keter, you look like a real villain now,” Luke said with a grimace after finishing his meal.

“You’ve finally developed some discernment, huh?” Keter said.

Keter gave Luke a pat on the shoulder before standing up.

As if waiting for this moment, Joyray blocked his path, gesturing toward the ceiling with a nod. The damaged beam Gyro had broken was swaying precariously.

“Luke, wait for me outside. I need to discuss some business with the captain,” Keter said.

“Got it,” Luke replied, leaving the tavern without suspicion.

Keter stepped into the kitchen, followed by Joyray. Without a word, Keter handed him some cash.

“A thousand gold should be a decent consolation... Wait, what?!”

Joyray held the cash up to the light. The bill wasn’t for a thousand gold but ten thousand.

Before Keter could say anything, Joyray tucked the bill into his pocket with a sly grin.

“So, you noticed the historical and monetary value of that beam Gyro broke, huh? Heh.”

“Cut the nonsense, Captain. That beam’s worth a single gold coin at best,” Keter retorted.

“Then why give me all this cash? What’s your deal? Did you steal this money? Is this some laundering job?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. A ten-thousand-gold note doesn’t just go missing.”

“Sure, I know that, man. But you’re the one handing it over, and you’re more than capable of pulling something like this off.”

“Forget it. I’m taking over the Liqueur branch of the Mercenary Association. I’ll need your help.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Like Joyray said, he was just the owner of a tavern.

Keter, however, nudged Joyray’s arm with his elbow with a mischievous grin and said, “Aw, come on, Master. Don’t be like that.”

“You little brat! How many times have I told you not to call me Master? You stole my techniques without permission!”

“You literally demonstrated them in front of me.”

“I didn’t know you were spying!”

“Anyway, Master, I’m counting on you. That ten-thousand-gold bill is your commission.”

“I don’t know why you’re so interested in the branch, but do you really think you can buy it off with just ten thousand gold? You’re the robber, bandit, and pirate of the century.”

“Master, don’t be so harsh. The branch manager position isn’t exactly prestigious, is it? Honestly, the Liqueur branch manager is basically a demotion.”

“Bwahaha! Oh, Keter. Why are you playing dumb when you know the deal? Like you said, in the past, every branch manager wanted to escape this place. But the current one has stuck around for over ten years. He always looks miserable, sure, but do you think anyone believes there’s no deeper reason?”

Joyray pressed Keter with a knowing grin.

Just then, an impatient voice came from outside the kitchen.

“When’s the food coming out? It’s been thirty minutes, you crazy bastard!”

Shwink!

Joyray casually grabbed a kitchen knife and flung it backward. The blade arced gracefully through the air and embedded itself deep into the shouting customer’s table.

“Whew!” Keter whistled. “As expected of you, Master. That was a flawless trajectory, befitting the originator of Flying Sword Art.”

“You brat, have you ever thought about learning Flying Blade Art properly? If you did, you would become the strongest mercenary alive. I heard you dreamed of being a mercenary back in the day.”

“Becoming the king of mercenaries was my dream, once upon a time. Not anymore.”

“Then if that’s not it, why do you want the mercenary guild branch manager position?”

“For revenge. And... for some personal use.”

“

Tsk

, I don’t know what kind of crap you’re trying to pull now... And why are you even dragging me into this? I’m not a mercenary.”

“It’s getting really hard to pretend like I don’t know anything.”

Suddenly, Keter grabbed a knife and hurled it at the ceiling.

To the naked eye, the ceiling seemed perfectly ordinary. But when Keter’s knife struck a specific spot, the air rippled, and the core of an illusion spell shattered. Joyray’s face hardened.

Keter, on the other hand, gazed up in amazement. The kitchen ceiling was revealed to be packed with an uncountable arsenal of weapons. Each one was of the highest quality and immaculately maintained.

Joyray silently removed the apron from around his neck, revealing six meticulously arranged knives strapped to his waist.

The truth behind Joyray, the seemingly humble tavern owner of Liqueur was...

“The Mercenary King, Ray. Who would believe that the highest power in the Mercenary Association is running a little tavern here?”