The Indomitable Martial King

Repenhardt recalled an old tale he had heard from Todd, inadvertently lifting his head. Far ahead, he saw a handsome young knight, adorned in splendid armor, walking along a mountain path.

Stefan von Lepanto Altion. He was walking with a grim expression, leading six knights. Since riding horses in such mountainous terrain was impractical, they had left their horses in Cattle Village and were walking towards the ‘Valley of Death’. A knight should be on horseback to truly be a knight; walking in shiny armor made him feel pitiful.

And right beside him, an elf woman clung to him with a flirtatious face.

“Master, even without riding a horse, your elegance does not fade at all. Truly, you are a knight among knights.”

“Ha-ha, hearing you say that does make me feel better, Relsia.”

Stefan chuckled, casually stroking the elf woman’s buttocks. He was harassing a woman in broad daylight without any hesitation. The one doing it, the one it’s being done to, and those watching, all seemed incredibly natural about it.

Repenhardt felt slightly annoyed, but did not show it.

‘The values of the entire continent are like this, what can you do.’

Getting angry over such scenes on a daily basis would make it impossible to travel the world. Besides, this Stefan fellow was amusing. The slave, Relsia, only spoke words that pleased her master, and yet he kept giggling as if it was something wonderful.

‘He’s just a greenhorn.’

Repenhardt quickly lost interest in Stefan and looked behind. Three orc slaves were following the knights, carrying their belongings on the mountain path. Beside them, two individuals appeared to be having a conversation. A wizard, Todd, and a pretty boy with long red hair.

‘Was his name Sillan?’

At first, Repenhardt thought he was a girl. Such was the beauty of this boy named Sillan. In his youth, Repenhardt was quite handsome himself (of course, this was in his past life), but never to the extent that one could not distinguish his gender. Honestly, only his trained warrior’s intuition indicated he was male; visually, he still looked like a beautiful girl.

Moreover, this boy was also a priest of Philanence, the Goddess of Beauty, Mercy and Love. To avoid ending up like Claude, the House of Altion dispatched its strongest knights along with experienced mages and priests for the exploration. The presence of a priest, blessed by the goddess to wield various healing and enhancement spells, was indispensable for tomb exploration.

‘But can someone his age properly cast divine spells?’

Seeing Silas laugh brightly and chatter away like a young girl in front of Todd, Repenhardt couldn’t help but feel distrustful. However, since he was accepted into the prestigious Altion family as a clergyman, albeit a clumsy one, it was likely that he possessed considerable skill.

After all, being young doesn’t necessarily mean being weak. Repenhardt, too, had already reached the level of an average formal magician during his boyhood in his previous life, and now, in his early twenties, wasn’t he an aura user?

Repenhardt soon turned his gaze towards Todd. The only reason he was part of this group was to gather information about his current self from Todd.

‘I should find an opportunity to start a conversation…’

But it was hard to find the right moment as he had been incessantly talking to the priest boy who acted like a young girl. Watching them, it felt like seeing his younger self chattering away, which gave him an odd feeling.

‘Wait! Todd, could he possibly have a preference for men?’

A chill ran down his spine. It was a horrifying thought that he himself could have been in such a situation during his childhood… Indeed, in the mage tower where males were predominant, all sorts of strange incidents often occurred. Fortunately, Repenhardt had never experienced such things, but the mere thought of it was unsettling.

‘Eh, no way, Todd seemed like a decent person. It couldn’t be.’

Trying to dismiss the thought, he shook his head, and then Sir Edward approached him.

“You’ve made an excellent choice, traveler.”

“It’s nothing special, just guiding the way.”

Repenhardt shrugged nonchalantly, and Sir Edward laughed in response.

He looked at the brave young man with a face full of admiration. Naturally. The foolish villagers had vehemently refused to guide them to their destination, the ancient ruins of ‘Falton.’

To be honest, Sir Edward had not expected to be turned down. After all, he wasn’t asking them to enter the ruins with him, just to guide him nearby. The fact that they were too scared to even do that was beyond belief.

He was so incredulous that he couldn’t even be angry. He had even slapped a whining middle-aged man lightly, mulling over the issue internally. Knowing the geography was essential for guiding them without getting lost, and reaching their destination would please the Lord Stefan whom he served.

But it would go against chivalry to force the unwilling villagers. Chivalry may have narrow standards, but it explicitly instructs the protection of the weak. Using force was not the way of a knight. The light slap he had given was meant as a mild correction for foolishness, not an act of oppression, Sir Edward firmly believed.

As this loyal middle-aged knight was grumbling, a brave traveler happened to come by and offered to guide them instead. It was truly a welcome occurrence.

“Tsk, what cowards.”

“It’s only natural to be afraid.”

As Repenhardt subtly took the side of the villagers, Edward frowned.

“Ha! What is there to fear when the valiant knights of the kingdom are with us? They are truly ignorant fools. Tsk tsk, anyway, I express my gratitude in the name of the House of Altion for your help.”

After praising this brave youth, Edward walked back to Stefan’s side. He firmly believed he had done his duty by praising the other’s bravery without spending a single penny, which was truly knight-like.

‘Anyway, these knights…’

Repenhardt slightly shook his head.

Not all knights in the world were like this, but the profession of knights was inevitably bound to have such arrogant and presumptuous aspects.

From the start, the path of knighthood is nothing less than a fine method for nurturing narcissists. The very point of harping on about honor is already flawed. In other words, there’s no knight who doesn’t act superior. There are knights who are truly superior, so their superiority isn’t just an act.

Of course, among them, there are excellent knights who have a sense of reality and are properly grounded, but these fellows certainly do not fit that case.

Knights are arrogant, magicians are narrow-minded, and clerics are old-fashioned.

This prejudiced adage floating around the continent didn’t come from nowhere. Honestly, Repenhardt himself was quite narrow-minded before meeting other races, so he felt somewhat hypocritical blaming others.

While walking and thinking such thoughts, something suddenly caught his senses. Something was fiercely flying from beyond the forest to the sky.

‘Ah, this must be it. The hunter that died…’

Soon after, a shout was heard from ahead.

“An attack! Form up!”

The noisy flapping of wings filled the surroundings. A sharp cry tore through the ears. It was a flying monster, a harpy, with the face of a woman, the body of a bird, and feathers of steel.

The carnivorous harpies, which usually inhabited cliffs and particularly fancied human flesh, attacked the humans on sight.

Dozens of harpies were swarming the mountain path’s sky.

“Kyaahhhh!”

With a sharp screech reminiscent of a woman’s scream, one of the harpies aimed its talons at Stefan. Stefan, with a tense face, drew his sword.

“How dare a filthy beast target a human under the protection of Seiya!”

With an archaic tone, Stefan executed a diagonal slash, the Delayed Strike. With a precise posture and swift sword strike, he instantly severed the wings of the diving harpy, spraying blood.

“Kraaak!”

At the screams of their comrade, the other harpies surged forward with renewed vigor. The sound of their wings grew more intense.

The harpies swooped down all at once above the heads of Stefan’s group. Stefan swung his sword, scattering the blood of the blade onto the ground. The elf woman, Relsia, who had been coyly flirting before, now stood behind him with a cold face, dagger in hand.

“Knights of Altion! Repel the enemy!”

With Stefan’s cry, the knights’ swords began to emit dazzling light. The harpies leading the charge were hit and fell to the ground, spraying blood. Seeing that the knights were not as easy to overcome as they thought, the harpies at the rear fiercely flapped their wings. Feathers as hard as steel shot out like arrows, overwhelming the knights.

Tatatat!

The sound of armor being crushed under the impact showed that it was no ordinary force. While the knights were blocking with their shields, Sir Edward shouted.

“Sir Todd!”

“Understood!”

Todd, who had pre-cast magic, stretched out his hand at the right moment.

“Fire Chain!”

Chains of fire wrapped around the harpies, igniting them in succession. The entire sky was filled with flames, turning red. Then, Sillan began chanting a prayer, bestowing the knights with the goddess’s blessing.

“O Philanence, grant these individuals indomitable courage!”

Light surrounded the knights, and their vigor surged. Regaining their strength, the knights began to push back the harpies with their shields.

“Taahh!”

Meanwhile, Repenhardt stood by the roadside, watching the scene with a blank expression.

‘Everyone seems quite skilled?’

Especially that youngster Stefan, his swordsmanship was better than expected. It seemed that the saying about martial arts correlating with character was a lie. After all, this was the ruin where Sir Claude, an aura user, had met his death. They wouldn’t have sent someone of mediocre ability.

‘But from what I see, they all seem quite clumsy.’

Repenhardt observed the knights anew, especially Stefan’s movements, with a fresh perspective.

Certainly, he was exceptional among them, a master of swordsmanship. Yet, to Repenhardt’s eyes, his entire world was full of vulnerabilities. If he set his mind to it, he felt he could take him down within 10 seconds.

It was Repenhardt, as a magician, who judged the skill to be quite good.

Everyone seemed incredibly clumsy to Repenhardt, as a martial artist.

‘It seems master wasn’t bragging for nothing.’

Of course, being the body that would become the future Fist King, Repenhardt himself did not think he was weak. From the moment he awakened his aura, comparing himself to them was unreasonable.

However, Repenhardt, who had never seen any warrior other than Gerard, and who had been a magician in his previous life, had no eye to accurately discern the level of his opponents. Now, for the first time, he was able to measure another warrior’s level with the eye of a ‘warrior.’ Was it the first time he truly felt his own strength, which he had only known in his mind?

‘Anyway…’

He glanced to the side. The orc slaves who had been carrying the luggage were crouching down, huddled under a tree, trembling. They looked like rabbits that had encountered an eagle. No matter how brave the race of warriors, growing up as a slave from a young age made them like this.

Clicking his tongue, Repenhardt scratched his cheek.

‘Well, no one is taking care of them.’

It was good to fight diligently, but those knights had completely lost interest in either the orc slaves or Repenhardt.

‘That’s why that hunter died.’

It wasn’t that these people were particularly bad, but it seemed they generally lacked the habit of taking care of others.

‘Well, thinking about it, that’s exactly what makes them bad, isn’t it?’

At that moment, Sillan, who was standing a short distance away, caught sight of Repenhardt standing idly and screamed in shock.

“It’s dangerous!”

‘He’s somewhat better.’

“Hide behind the tree!”

Following up with a series of holy spells, Sillan urgently called out. Repenhardt leisurely moved behind a tree and crouched down slightly.