The Indomitable Martial King

Spitting blood, Russ’s eyes shot open.

He hadn’t been on his guard at all. It had never occurred to him that Eusus, who was so deeply engrossed in chivalry, would harm him out of jealousy.

“Why, why?”

Eusus’s lips stretched into a long, sinister smile as he looked at his horrified half-brother. It was a damp, hideously ugly smile.

“My sword shall resonate with the spirit within!”

Eusus declared as he plunged his sword in. A terrifying energy spread from Eldran, turning Russ’s insides upside down. Being an aura user, there was a chance he wouldn’t die from a blow to the abdomen, so Eusus made sure to confirm the kill.

It was certain! Eusus intended to kill him!

“Argh!”

Groaning, Russ swung his sword horizontally. The blade aura extended long, aiming for Eusus. However, Eusus had already retracted Eldran and stepped back. The sword light cut through the air in vain and exploded above the cliff.

Boom!

The explosion made the cliff tremble. Clutching his stomach, Russ’s eyes bulged as bloodshot tears streamed down his face.

“Why, why me… Brother… why…”

Eusus snapped coldly.

“Tenes is sufficient with me alone as a sword.”

Eusus aimed Eldran horizontally at Russ’s throat.

“I cannot acknowledge someone born from a filthy stray as a sword of Tenes!”

Then, a rustling noise came from behind. The explosion had attracted the knights of Tenes.

“What’s going on?”

“What happened now!”

Eusus’s attention momentarily drifted to the back. Seizing this moment, Russ summoned his last strength.

“Argh!”

With all his might, Russ threw himself into the river. Eusus turned around too late.

“Damn!”

It was too late. Russ’s body was already falling towards the dark river. With a splash, the dark waters swallowed Russ.

“Tch…”

Eusus clicked his tongue. He didn’t think that Russ could survive such injuries, but one never knows.

Didn’t it happen in many tales of heroes? The one who falls from a cliff into a river later comes back robustly alive to take revenge on the one who stabbed them. It’s a scene so common that it rarely appears as a material anymore.

‘You must always be prepared, just in case.’

Eusus von Tenes quickly drew his sword and slashed across his own body, spilling his blood in various places. Soon after, Lot and a few other knights arrived at the top of the cliff.

Upon seeing Eusus, Lot exclaimed, “What happened, Lord Eusus!”

“It’s Russ!”

Pretending to be in pain, Eusus cried out, “Russ attacked me, aiming for the position of the head of the family!”

“No, that can’t be…”

Everyone was shocked, but then they quickly began to denounce Russ. Despite their admiration for Russ, who had recently awakened his aura, they were ultimately loyal knights of Eusus.

Moreover, Eusus’s claim was plausible. Russ had always been vocal about being the sword of the Tenes family. Now that he was an aura user, he must have thought he could take over as head of the family if only Eusus were gone!

“Ugh! There’s no changing the dirty lineage!”

“Why would such talent be bestowed upon such a person…”

Everything went according to plan. No one doubted Eusus’s words. It seemed this was why one’s conduct was important.

“What about Russ?”

At Lot’s question, Eusus, pretending to struggle, replied, “Fortunately, I was able to counterattack in time. He fell into the river with a wound in his abdomen, so it’s unlikely he’ll survive.”

Even if Russ survived, there would be no big problem. By attempting to kill Eusus, he had become an enemy of the family. Of course, he might seek revenge like in the typical hero stories, but Eusus was confident he could handle that much.

‘No matter how much of an aura user you are, you can’t withstand the power of Eldrad.’

The most important thing was not to lose the position of successor. He didn’t feel that his actions were despicable. Someone who couldn’t win the hearts of the people would be of no help to the family as a successor. He had made the right choice.

Supported by Lot, Eusus walked down the cliff. A cold smile appeared on the lips of Eusus, who had his head bowed.

‘You should have tried to win the hearts of the people, brother.’

* * *

Repenhardt’s party continued to walk along the banks of the Yaham River, intending to follow the river downstream and leave the territory of Viscount Kelberen. Even as dusk fell, they did not stop their march. Normally, they would have started to prepare for an overnight stay, but at this time, it was crucial to leave the viscount’s land as soon as possible. Hence, they planned to travel through the night if necessary.

Repenhardt carefully scanned the surroundings, leading the way. He was worried that Viscount Kelberen might have sent a pursuit team after them. Although Repenhardt himself was confident in dealing with any pursuit team, he couldn’t help but be cautious, considering that Siris, Sillan, and Tilla could get injured in the process.

Noticing Repenhardt’s cautiousness, Siris quietly asked him a question, indicating she was becoming more open and frequently initiating conversations — a welcome development. Repenhardt responded with a smile, asking, “Yes? What is it?”

“How did you come to know Miss Tilla?”

This was a question Repenhardt had been pondering over how to explain.

He decided to not lie to Siris any longer and told her the truth.

“I was thrown into the river by the Golden Knight and floated downstream, where the dwarves rescued me.”

“Dwarves saved a human?”

Siris, unsurprisingly, questioned this. Repenhardt nodded, explaining there had been a prophecy from Al Fort stating that he was destined to save the dwarves.

Siris looked at him skeptically, as if thinking he was joking. However, Tilla confirmed his story, nodding and stating, “Yes, Repenhardt is the savior prophesied to rescue our clan. That’s why I am following him now.”

Sillan, who had been listening, looked incredulously at Tilla as she began to explain further.

About six years ago, a prophecy was given to the dwarves, foretelling that a savior would come floating down the river. Thus, when Repenhardt was found, they saved him and decided to follow his lead.

Sillan, astounded, turned to Repenhardt, questioning the religious beliefs of dwarves.

“Dwarves believe in gods?”

“There are even priests among them. Didn’t you know?”

Sillan shook his head, admitting his ignorance on the matter of dwarven priests.

Tilla retorted sharply, “Of course, humans wouldn’t think that a ‘slave race’ could engage in such advanced spiritual activities as faith.”

“No, that’s not what I meant…”

Sillan had changed his views significantly during his journey with Repenhardt, especially after observing Siris. He understood that individual beings from other races could have emotions and intellect similar to humans, but the idea that entire races held religious beliefs had not occurred to him. According to the teachings he had received, all non-human races were considered slaves created by the gods for humans.

“Yes, the dwarves have their god, Al Fort.”

“Al Fort? Isn’t that a malevolent god?”

“What exactly did Al Fort do?”

Sillan realized he had heard Al Fort was malevolent but never learned why.

In the midst of this confusion, Siris, looking towards the river, frowned.

“Lord Repenhardt, over there…”

“Yes?”

“I might be seeing things, but… that looks like a person…”

In the darkness, something was drifting closer. Floating towards them, it eventually stopped at the riverbank.

It was indeed a person — a rather robust warrior, it seemed. Repenhardt, sensing the man was still alive, rushed over.

As he turned the man over to see his face, Repenhardt’s eyes widened in recognition.

“Oh, this guy?”

‘How did he end up here? And he’s been stabbed?’

“Do you know him?”

Repenhardt scratched his head at Siris’s question.

“It’s someone who, if you know, you know, and if you don’t, you don’t…”

The man’s identity was Cyrus, the opponent they had fiercely fought just half a day ago. Sillan quickly prepared a healing spell and cast it on Russ. Tilla muttered to herself upon seeing this.

“…Was there a sequel to the prophecy?”

* * *

Clatter, clatter.

A faint sound of wheels could be heard. Beyond a distant sensation, the feeling of being shaken was perceptible. Russ moaned.

“Ugh…”

There was no strength throughout his body. How long had he been sleeping to feel so stiff? And where was this? Judging by the sensation of being rocked, it seemed to be inside a carriage.

‘Why am I lying down in a place like this?’

Wondering, Russ tried to get up. Suddenly, a fierce pain struck his abdomen. It was the moment he grimaced and clenched his teeth.

“Ah!”

A groan leaked out. The twisted face of his half-brother, Eusus, surfaced in his blurry memory. In an instant, all his memories flooded back.

The moment he awakened his aura, the awe-struck eyes of everyone, his own heightened excitement, the blade of Eusus deep in his stomach, and the dark blue river water approaching at a terrifying speed along with a profound sense of falling…

He remembered. He remembered everything.

His fingertips trembled.

‘Eusus, brother…’

Russ wrapped his head. Desolation was felt before anger.

He knew that Eusus did not acknowledge him. He had gritted his teeth more than once under that disdainful gaze always cast his way.

But to harbor hatred, Eusus was too great a knight.

A knight among knights, even someone as disregarded as himself couldn’t help but admire his character. How proud had he been to hear that such a knight was his brother? And how ashamed had he felt for not being able to be the proud brother of that brother?

To such a great knight, someone like himself, a mere one-trick knight, couldn’t possibly catch his eye as a brother. Thus, he thought it natural not to be acknowledged, to be looked upon with disdain.

Therefore, he tried desperately. If he could stand as a knight in his own right, if he could obtain a strength that wouldn’t shame the sword of Tenes, he thought that even Eusus would eventually acknowledge him. This impatience led him to frequently break ranks and disobey orders, which only made him more despised and fueled a vicious cycle of further impatience.

And finally, he awakened his aura. He had achieved what he wanted. Now, he stood on equal footing as a brother with Eusus.

He thought Eusus would be happy to see him like this. Finally, he had become a proud brother worthy of being a sword of Tenes. But…

‘He had no intention of acknowledging me…’

Russ sighed as he looked at the ceiling of the carriage. Waking from his dream, the cold truth was clearly visible to him.

His brother was not the knight among knights he thought he was. When his position as the heir became precarious, he was just an ordinary noble consumed by power, ready to stab his own blood brother without hesitation. It was ludicrously laughable that he had believed such a man to be a great knight and had chased after his recognition alone.

“Kekeke…”

A hollow laugh escaped him involuntarily.

Clunk!

The carriage stopped. Suddenly, bright sunlight shone in, and cold air entered. Someone had drawn the carriage curtain and was looking at him.

Russ was startled. It was a familiar face. A long-haired redhead boy with a face so pretty it was almost girlish. It was the boy who had been captured as the ‘aura-wielding thief’s’ accomplice.

“Ah, Mr. Repen! This knight has awakened!”