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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: JayM
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“I’m asking you what this is.”
Cain’s voice grew colder.
Jeong Yoo-shin’s mind raced.
If he showed any sign of guilt, he was dead.
That was his gut feeling, honed from countless life-or-death situations.
Cain still didn’t know what had happened between him and Mion.
He calmed his racing heart.
“Isn’t that Mion’s hair?”
“That’s what I’m asking. Why is it on your shoulder?”
“It must have fallen on me while she was helping me with the lesson.”
“Mion got that close to you?”
Cain asked, his voice laced with suspicion.
“Can’t she help her students individually? She does it with the other children too.”
He sighed and continued,
“And Captain, with all due respect, this is a bit much. I know you care about your sister, but this is just a strand of hair. Do you really think I would do anything to Teacher Mion? Especially during class?”
Their eyes met.
He stared defiantly at Cain.
A brief silence hung in the air.
Cain sighed and scratched his head.
“…I overreacted. I apologize. I haven’t seen my sister in a while, so I’m a bit on edge.”
“It’s alright. Then…”
He left Cain and hurried out of the orphanage courtyard.
He walked calmly for a while, then glanced back.
Cain was already gone. He then ran to the Swordsman’s Guild as fast as he could.
If Cain found out about his Female Virgin Corruption imprint…
And that he had fondled Mion’s soft belly…
He wouldn’t just get a beating.
Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he ran.
The early summer sun and wind brushed against his face.
People shouted at him and moved out of his way.
He finally reached the Swordsman’s Guild.
Crash!!!
He threw open the door.
“Ashur-nim!”
Ashur, who had been lounging in a chair behind the counter, looked up.
“Skar, the guild door isn’t your bedroom door. Be careful.”
“That’s not important.”
“Then what is?”
“Do you know Cain, the Knight Captain of the Labyrinth City?”
“Of course. He learned swordsmanship from me. Why?”
“How strong is he?”
“Strong enough to send a newbie barbarian to the afterlife with a single blow.”
“Shit.”
“Swearing too? Is this your house?”
“I apologize.”
“Why do you do things you have to apologize for? Anyway…”
Ashur looked at his anxious expression and leaned back on his chair.
“Someone was looking for you.”
“Who?”
“A barbarian.”
“What?!”
He gasped.
This was getting out of hand.
Why was another barbarian looking for him?
“…Who was it? Why were they looking for me?”
“I don’t know. He just came in and asked if a mixed-blood barbarian was training here.”
“And?”
Ashur shrugged at his urgent question.
“I told him you were.”
“Why would you tell him that?! Can you just reveal your students’ personal information like that?”
“He seemed to know already.”
The Cain incident vanished from his mind.
He had bigger problems now.
“…Where are they?”
“The brothels in the eastern district.”
Slap!
He slapped himself on the forehead.
He had been so focused on the shadows that he hadn’t seen what was right in front of him.
Why hadn’t he realized it sooner?
Worms lived in dark, damp places.
And demons resided in the pits of hell.
And the sex-crazed barbarians… They gathered in brothels.
‘The Penis Masters of the Red-Light District.’
He gathered his scattered thoughts.
Wait a minute.
Something wasn’t right.
“The eastern district? I didn’t see them when I was there.”
He had been to the eastern district when he went after the slave hunters.
“Weren’t you there at night? Why would a barbarian be wandering around at that time?”
Ashur asked, looking at him as if he was an idiot.
“What do you mean?”
“Barbarians should be in bed at night, having sex. Why do you know less about barbarians than I do?”
“…”
“Are you starting to feel the pressure? The threat to your chastity? You need to become stronger, right? Let’s go.”
He followed Ashur to the training ground.
The training ground was crowded despite it being early summer.
People were training with swords, spears, and shields.
Ashur retrieved a steel long sword from a corner and tossed it to him.
He caught the sword.
It was heavier than the wooden swords he had been using.
It wasn’t sharpened since it was a training sword.
“Use this from now on.”
“I’m not using wooden swords anymore?”
“No. You leveled up, right?”
“How did you know?”
“Just a hunch. Wooden swords are too light for you now. Use this steel sword instead.”
The Sword Master’s perception was sharp.
He wanted to ask more about the barbarian and Cain, but he held back.
It was training time. He should only ask questions related to training at this time.
Now that he was at the training ground, he remembered something else while watching the others train.
A weakness he had discovered during his fight with the slave hunter leader.
The duration of Sacred Weapon.
The summoned weapon disappeared after three seconds.
If he locked swords with an opponent and the weapon vanished, he would be completely defenseless.
He had thought about this problem and found a solution.
He scratched his head and asked,
“I want to learn about how to deflect attacks. How do I do that?”
“You mean parrying?”
“Yes.”
Ashur shook his head.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not at that level yet.”
“Isn’t it… doable?”
Ashur pointed at him.
“I was going to let it slide, but now I can’t. We need to talk about your fight with the slave hunters in the eastern district.”
“What’s there to talk about? You already know everything. I killed a bunch of scumbags.”
Ashur crossed his arms, his face creased in annoyance.
“I’m not criticizing you for killing them. The problem is how you fight. You rely on your imprint and charge in recklessly, just swinging wildly. Your swordsmanship is sloppy. You take a hit, you give a hit. Is this a bar fight? And you bit someone’s neck? Are you an animal?!”
Ashur’s voice rose.
He was clearly agitated.
“Someone get me some water!”
He shouted.
A few people ran inside the guild building.
Jeong Yoo-shin scratched his head.
“Things just… happened.”
“What do you mean ‘things happened’?! This is infuriating! You bit someone’s neck?!”
Ashur clutched his head.
A man with a mohawk ran over while carrying a water bottle.
Ashur snatched the bottle and chugged it down.
“Phew. This won’t do. Bring me… that.”
“A-Are you sure?”
“Get it before I pull your hair out.”
“Yes, sir.”
The man with the mohawk ran back inside the guild building.
He returned with strange-looking leather pouches.
“What’s this?”
Jeong Yoo-shin asked.
“Sandbags. The sand is special, but you don’t need to know the details. Just think of them as magic items that put a strain on your body.”
Ashur looked at Jeong Yoo-shin, who was standing while blankly staring at him.
“Wear them on your wrists, ankles, and waist.”
He took the pouches from the man with the mohawk.
They were surprisingly heavy, as if they were filled with iron filings.
“They’re not that heavy.”
Ashur smirked at his words.
“Don’t come crying to me later, begging for mercy.”
“It can’t be that bad.”
“Run. With your sword.”
He put on the sandbags and started running around the training ground.
The other people in the training ground clicked their tongues as they watched him.
“There it is. The hell training.”
“Tsk tsk. That newbie’s going to suffer.”
He ignored them. It wasn’t that bad.
Three hours later…
“Gasp… Cough…”
He was crawling on the floor of the training ground.
Ashur yelled,
“Get up!! You animal!”
‘Crazy.’
He hadn’t thought that the sandbags would be this heavy.
His stamina had been completely drained, and his muscles screamed at him in protest.
He couldn’t even take a single step anymore. He could only crawl.
The hot summer sun beat down on him.
Ashur approached him and crouched down.
“I said, get up.”
He struggled to his feet.
His legs trembled like a newborn fawn’s.
“You still have three laps to go. Why are you crawling?”
Ashur stood up.
“Parrying? Don’t even think about it. Just finish your laps. We’re sparring next.”
He gritted his teeth and forced himself to walk.
He completed his laps.
Ashur tossed him a steel training sword.
Thud.
The sword hit his body and fell to the ground.
He picked it up with trembling hands.
“Here I come.”
Before he could even assume his stance, Ashur attacked.
Crack!!
A searing pain shot through his right arm.
[Revenger]
The imprint activated.
His eyes glowed with a blue light.
Ashur chuckled.
“Skar, you can’t survive in this world with only madness and rage. I’ll carve that lesson into your body.”
He charged without a word.
Clang!!!
Their eyes met. The elf’s cold, piercing gaze and his own burning eyes.
Close-quarters combat.
A mind game.
Screech.
The sound of grinding metal.
“Relentless training is the only way. Swinging your sword every day. Pushing yourself to the limit every day. Disciplining yourself, rain or shine, in the spring breeze and the summer sun. That’s how you gain the strength to survive in this world.”
“…”
Ashur continued his lecture as they fought, but he tuned him out.
It was making him dizzy.
He pushed Ashur’s sword away and thrust forward.
Ashur dodged easily and thrust his sword at Jeong Yoo-shin’s neck.
Thwack!!!
“Gah!”
He stumbled backward while clutching his neck.
He gasped for air.
Whoosh!
Ashur’s sword aimed for his left shoulder.
He instinctively raised his sword to block, but…
Clang!!!
The force of the blow made him drop his sword.
Clatter.
It clattered to the floor.
“Pick it up. You still have a long way to go.”
He stumbled towards his fallen sword, his movements hampered by the weight of the sandbags.
He picked up his sword and stood before Ashur.
“Here I come.”
Ashur said indifferently and resumed his attack.
He endured the blows, and memorized Ashur’s movements.
“Stop charging in recklessly. You’ll get your head chopped off if you fight like that.”
“Step back with your left foot. Your stance is terrible. We need to start from the beginning.”
“How many times do I have to tell you not to just stare at the sword?”
“If you’re going to block, do it properly. Don’t just raise your sword halfheartedly. Those who rely on their imprints and hold their swords loosely never amount to anything.”
Ashur yelled as he swung his sword.
Time passed.
The other people in the training ground gradually left, leaving only him and Ashur.
Night fell.
“You still have a long way to go. Master the fundamentals of attack and defense first. Parrying requires you to successfully block or deflect your opponent’s attack. The problem is the diversity of races in this city. What does that mean? Different attack methods. Different strengths and stances. It makes it difficult to read your opponent. And that’s not all. Parrying is the foundation of riposte. It requires quick reflexes, precise timing, and body control. Parrying is too advanced for someone who just charges in blindly like you.”
Ashur explained calmly and patiently, unlike his earlier outburst.
“Gasp… Cough…”
Jeong Yoo-shin knelt on the ground as he gasped for air.
He was drenched in sweat, just like his first training session.
It was too difficult.
The mind games.
The tests of strength.
The variety of techniques.
Nothing was easy.
He had thought he was improving, but he had been mistaken.
He felt inadequate.
A drop of sweat trickled down his forehead and landed on the floor.
Ashur looked at him, then scratched his cheek.
“I don’t usually say this. Listen closely.”
“…”
“You have talent.”
“…”
“Work hard. Ingrain the principles of attack and defense into your heart. A wavering sword means a wavering mind. You seem stable now, but you never know. Only relentless training can protect your mind. Also, stop biting people’s necks.”
“…Understood.”
Ashur didn’t show it, but he seemed quite disturbed by the news of him biting someone’s neck.
He managed to reply and stood up, his body aching.
“And don’t trust Aldein too much.”
Ashur said while frowning.
“Why not?”
“You can tell just by looking at him. He’s not a good person. Trust me.”
His face crumpled at Ashur’s words.
It seemed there was more to it, but Ashur didn’t elaborate.
He remembered something he wanted to ask.
“What about the Magic Tower? Can they cure my madness?”
“Tsk. They’re not sure. They want to examine you, but I don’t trust them.”
“Where’s the Magic Tower located?”
“It’s north of the Labyrinth City, about three days’ journey. There’s a branch in the city as well.”
“Did you go to their headquarters?”
“Yes.”
“…Then…”
“Stop asking so many questions. It’s late. Go home.”
‘Why is he so irritable?’
“Yes, sir.”
He took off the sandbags and looked at Ashur.
“Aren’t you leaving?”
“Go ahead.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you for your instruction.”
He bowed his head and left the training ground.
“Be here tomorrow.”
Ashur called out to him.
“Yes, sir.”
He disappeared from view.
Ashur looked up at the sky for a moment, then said,
“Come out.”
A figure emerged from the shadows.
Cain.
Mion’s older brother and the Knight Captain.
“What’s that barbarian’s deal?”
Cain asked, running a hand through his blond hair.
“Did you see your sister?”
“No. She said she wasn’t feeling well.”
Cain stared at him intently.
He wasn’t going to leave without a satisfactory answer.
Ashur hesitated for a moment, then spoke,
“He’s a good person. He wouldn’t hurt anyone without reason. You don’t have to worry about your sister.”
“…If you say so, I’ll trust you. And the Council has summoned you. Please visit the inner city sometime.”
“I will. You’re dismissed.”
Cain turned around and disappeared into the darkness.
Ashur watched him leave and clicked his tongue.
“I’m not his babysitter. Tsk.”
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“That was worth every penny.”
Jeong Yoo-shin trudged back to the inn, his body exhausted from the intense training.
It had never been this bad before.
He was worried that every day would be like this from now on.
Creak.
He opened the door and entered the quiet inn.
Anne and Tarman must have finished their work already and returned to their lodgings as the inn was empty.
The guests were all asleep.
Something covered with a cloth sat on the counter.
He approached the counter and removed the cloth.
It was a dark rye bread sandwich with ham, vegetables, and a fried egg. A note was placed on top of the sandwich.
‘Skar-nim, I made you dinner since you weren’t here.’
He read the note and tucked it into his pocket.
Damn it.
He could read.
He felt a headache coming on as he wondered how he would endure his future training sessions.
Cain and the other barbarians were also on his mind.
He was physically and mentally exhausted, but…
The fact that he could read now comforted him.
He couldn’t read fluently yet.
But like his training, he would improve with consistent effort.
‘Sigh.’
He sat down on a stool behind the counter and ate the sandwich.
The vegetables were still crisp, and the bread and ham were warm. It must have been made recently.
He washed it down with a drink from the cupboard behind the counter.
He sat there nursing his drink while staring blankly at the empty inn.
How was Dalmong doing?
And Karin?
He couldn’t find the answers, so he went upstairs.
He returned to his room, wiped himself down with a wet towel, changed his clothes, and laid down on the bed.
Darkness enveloped him.
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T/N – I laughed when Ashur criticized the MC’s way of fighting. Yes, Ashur-nim, it was technically a bar fight. I mean, he killed them in a bar, so… Also, he’s so obsessed with the neck-biting thing.
MC survived Cain as well. It was quick thinking on his part, but it seems that Cain is still suspicious. There’s also the barbarian looking for him. I wonder what they want from him?
If you find any mistakes, feel free to point them out in the comments.
Thanks jay! also i hope he doesnt stop biting necks its so badass