Chapter 172. Next Stage (1)

Some time after the battle with Maya, the Yellow Magic Tower was still reeling from the shock of the events in the Demonic Palace.

“To think that over 70% of the adventurers who entered the Demonic Palace lost their lives…”

Of course, the Demonic Palace was dangerous. The guardians of the tomb, already formidable, had been corrupted by Magi, and cursed beings that shouldn’t exist were spawned throughout the place.

If the adventurers had fallen to boss-level monsters like the Crack Keeper or the Ancient Magician, the Yellow Magic Tower might have shrugged it off. After all, they had paid a hefty sum in points to send an advance party precisely to take on such risks.

But… the reason the adventurers lost their lives wasn’t because of that.

“A monster.”

Yes.

A being so powerful that no other word could describe her… a being who wielded both sword and black magic simultaneously—Maya.

Her presence had turned everything into chaos.

“It was only through a recording device, but… even that was enough to feel how extraordinary she was. How on earth did she infiltrate? I thought we had thoroughly vetted everyone…”

The head of the Demonic Palace expedition pressed his thumbs against his temples, massaging them firmly.

Of course, doing so didn’t alleviate the throbbing headache, but the stress was so intense that he felt he had to do something to endure it. The adventurers who perished this time were valuable assets who regularly handled tasks for the Yellow Magic Tower, making the loss even more painful.

He had even planned to offer guest positions in the tower to some of them, which made the situation all the more heart-wrenching.

“Still… the silver lining is that Harang took care of the aftermath.”

Yes.

If it hadn’t been for his efforts, the head of the expedition might still be pulling all-nighters to manage the fallout. He might even have had to lead combat magicians into the Demonic Palace himself.

But that didn’t happen.

A monster from the south, Harang, single-handedly repelled the ambusher.

Not only did he defeat the Crack Keeper in a single blow, but during the second entry, he eradicated all dangerous entities, including the Ancient Magician.

Thanks to him, the Yellow Magic Tower was able to recover lost spatial pouches and magic tools, and safely bring the bodies of several adventurers back to the outside world.

“I thought there were no decent talents in the south… what a mistaken judgment. To think such a promising young man was hiding in the southern countryside.”

The head’s eyes gleamed.

He wanted him.

He wanted to recruit Harang to the Yellow Magic Tower, to gain an edge over the other magic towers.

Just as they had risen to the forefront of magic tool production through collaboration with dwarves, the Yellow Magic Tower prided itself on its flexible thinking, unlike the rigid mindset of other towers. They were more than willing to provide full support and accommodations for a monstrous talent like Harang.

Thus, after all matters related to the Demonic Palace were concluded, they offered him the treatment of an honorary elder, but…

“I’m sorry. I have no intention of joining the magic tower.”

The other party rejected the Yellow Magic Tower’s offer without even giving it much thought.

Perplexed, the magician asked why.

To him, life in the Yellow Magic Tower’s autonomous territory seemed far superior to the south, which was considered the least developed region of the continent.

“Why not? Are the conditions not to your liking? Or… is it because you’re affiliated with a southern mercenary brokerage? I told you, I’ll handle things with Austin, the head of the brokerage. They’re always strapped for cash, so as long as the penalty fee is paid, you won’t have to worry about a thing.”

“It’s not about that.”

“Then what’s the problem? I didn’t want to brag, but… there’s hardly a better place to live than the eastern continent, especially the magic tower’s territory. It’s safe, clean, comfortable… the infrastructure is beyond imagination. You won’t find such magical civilization anywhere else. You’re giving all this up?”

“…”

“You’ve lived here for a month, so you must know. As long as you have money, the magic tower’s territory is paradise. It’s so addictive you’d never want to return to your old life.”

“You’re right. It’s a nice place to live.”

Hearing the magician’s words, Harang nodded.

It was true.

The lifestyle here was nothing short of fantastic. It was as if all the wealth of the world was gathered here, overflowing with convenient items crafted by magicians and technicians.

If it had been the old Harang, he might have seriously considered the offer. The Yellow Magic Tower’s territory was that impressive.

“But it’s fine. I have a place I need to return to.”

“Huh… If you say so, I won’t press further. But I’m curious. What is it that holds someone as talented as you so strongly?”

The middle-aged magician looked at Harang with sparkling eyes, genuinely curious.

And for good reason.

To so easily reject an opportunity to seize wealth, fame, and everything one could desire at such a young age—what could possibly be so precious to him?

The answer came soon enough.

The black-haired young man smiled gently and said.

“People.”

***

Clop, clop, clop.

“We’re almost there.”

Inside a carriage heading to the Commercial City Marzen, Harang recalled his days in the eastern continent.

It was a nice place. He instantly understood why the magic tower’s magicians lived with such lofty pride. The Yellow Magic Tower, in particular, lacked the typical arrogance of magicians, which made it feel even better.

“Maybe I’ll consider visiting with the Eddy Mercenary Corps someday.”

It was a place full of interesting and fascinating things.

But that wasn’t the main purpose of his journey.

Shing-

Harang drew his sword from its sheath, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.

It was splendid.

While not as remarkable as the sword that had served as the key to the Delkaro dungeon, it was an extraordinary item that could hold its own against other ancient relics.

It lacked miscellaneous magical effects but excelled in its fundamental role as a weapon—sturdy and razor-sharp.

It was a masterpiece capable of withstanding Harang’s corrosive aura.

“And that’s not all.”

Naturally, Harang had acquired more than just this artifact-grade top-grade sword. Over the past month, handling tasks related to the Demonic Palace had earned him an astronomical amount of points, most of which he spent on treasures.

First, he completely upgraded his equipment.

A dwarven-made dagger, leather armor, boots, and cloak—items difficult to obtain anywhere on the continent. All were enchanted with magic, offering excellent protection against both physical and magical attacks.

The spatial backpack was another indispensable item. It could hold the equivalent of two carriages’ worth of cargo, and with weight-reduction magic, it felt light no matter how heavy the contents were. It had cost nearly as many points as the top-grade sword, but it was worth every bit. In fact, he couldn’t stop smiling as he thought about what to fill it with.

“And then there are the elixirs, potions, accessories, and swords to give as gifts to my acquaintances… I can’t even keep track of them all.”

It was, quite literally, a life-changing haul! A fortune of immense value.

But there was another achievement even more significant than all of that: he had learned how to infuse emotions into his swordsmanship.

Hummm-!

He layered emotions onto the completed silver-white aura sword.

The material… Allen Meir’s death.

And the anger that stemmed from it.

The aura sword crackled and transformed into a more powerful form.

“…”

After focusing on it for a while, Harang sheathed his sword.

He closed beyond eyes.

And recalled that moment, the scene he didn’t want to think about again.

“Is this the right way?”

As the beggar old man had said, infusing emotions into swordsmanship unleashed tremendous power. His ability to gain the upper hand against Maya, even when he was on the brink of death, was all thanks to anger.

Perhaps… this was a clue to reaching the level of a Sword Master.

The destructive power was so terrifying that it seemed plausible.

But despite achieving the breakthrough he had longed for, Harang’s expression wasn’t bright.

He had realized something.

The intense, vivid emotions strong enough to be infused into swordsmanship—

they were born from loss, from the death of others.

“Is there another way?”

With his eyes still closed, Harang pondered various thoughts.

Did he really have to rely on someone’s suffering, on anger born from that suffering, or on reliving painful memories to wield powerful swordsmanship?

If so, was that a good thing?

Why did he wield a sword in the first place?

Wasn’t it to protect the people he cared about?

But if moving to the next stage required losing those precious people, those bonds…

“We’ve arrived.”

“…Ah, thank you.”

Hearing the coachman’s voice, Harang stepped out of the carriage, paid the fare, and looked at the scenery before him.

Marzen’s walls welcomed him as warmly as ever.

The golden sunset, neither day nor night, bathed the walls in a warm glow.

“My favorite time of day.”

Harang muttered with a smiling face.

Yes, he truly loved this time when day merchants and night merchants crossed paths.

The most vibrant moment of the day, when he could see all sorts of people.

And the time when the Eddy Mercenary Corps began their rewarding duties.

“They’ll be starting their patrols, so they won’t be at the hideout… The off-duty members are probably at their usual bar.”

Since starting swordsmanship training, especially after learning the aura cultivation method from Harang, the mercenaries no longer got blackout drunk as they used to. Still, they frequently stopped by their favorite bar to wet their whistles, so Harang figured he’d find some familiar faces there.

With that thought, he walked faster than usual toward his destination. As expected, Daereon and a few other acquaintances were laughing and drinking beer.

What was surprising was…

“…Gael?”

Gael was among them.

“You’re finally here.”

Gael, who had been clinking glasses with Daereon with a smiling face, stood up.

His demeanor was much softer than before.

Harang’s expression turned intrigued.

Gael seemed harder to deal with now than his usual meticulous and rigid self.

“You’ve gotten stronger.”

“Yeah.”

“What happened?”

“I learned to take it easy.”

“From who?”

“Daereon. And the other mercenaries.”

Harang glanced behind Gael.

He saw Daereon nodding with a smile, gulping down his beer.

“Truly… an unimaginable combination.”

Not that it was a bad thing.

In fact, it felt good. Smiling along with them, Harang looked at Gael again.

Yes, this guy had never fit in with the village. He was too honest, too upright, too just.

“Let’s spar, Harang.”

Even now, it was the same.

Without hiding his overflowing confidence, the third-ranked Gael immediately challenged him to a duel.

Staring at him, Harang nodded and said.

“Alright.”

Step, step.

Clomp, clomp.

As soon as the words left his mouth, Gael left the bar.

Harang followed close behind.

The mercenaries, including Daereon, whispered among themselves.

“Who’ll win?”

“No idea. This time, I really don’t know.”

“Right? Harang’s amazing, but… Gael’s no slouch either.”

“Exactly.”

Surprisingly, the predictions were evenly split.

Intrigued, Daereon immediately set up a betting pool. Meanwhile, the two arrived at an open lot behind the hideout and began to draw their auras.

Humm-!

Hummm-!

“Ready?”

“Of course.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

The evening was so silent that even the sound of swallowing felt like thunder. The two monsters pointed their swords at each other. Everyone watched their duel with tense expressions.

After a brief moment, the result came.

It was a spectacle that once again defied everyone’s expectations.

“Hmm… Looks like he’s still no match for Harang.”

“Yeah, it was kind of anticlimactic.”

Gael’s complete defeat.

Thinking of Harang, who had left him lying on the ground, Gael muttered dejectedly.

“Damn it.”

At that moment, someone walked heavily toward the center of the lot.

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