Chapter 149

A full 24 hours. An entire day. Yuwon spent a full day beneath the riverbed and then returned to land.

“Terrien.”

“Ah, my liege…! You’re back! Wait a moment… but your hair… why…?”

“My hair? What about my hair?”

Terrien gladly welcomed the returning Yuwon. However, there was a major change in Yuwon’s outward appearance. Yuwon’s hair, which had originally been pure white, had completely turned jet black in the span of less than a day. Even Yuwon himself, who had not had the leisure to examine his own face, had been unaware of it.

“B-black… you know…?”

“What? My hair?”

“Yes. You didn’t know?”

Only then did Yuwon check his hair, which he had neatly tied into a single bundle and let hang down.

“It’s true? Why did it suddenly… ah…!”

“Do you have any idea what might have caused it?”

Just as Terrien asked, something came to Yuwon’s mind.

‘Rebirth through Bone Cleansing… that must be it.’

There was no other explanation.

While Yuwon had been unconscious after obtaining the Dragon Jade beneath the temple in the past, he had undergone Rebirth through Bone Cleansing. The several-fold expansion of his dantian overnight, the body that had become lighter than a feather, and the impurities scattered around his body were all proof of that.

“There is one thing that comes to mind… it’s probably because of that.”

“You’re not unwell or feeling off anywhere… right?”

At Terrien’s cautious question, his loyalty and concern for Yuwon dripped plainly through. Sensing that sincerity, Yuwon replied with a faint smile on his lips.

“Yes, there’s nothing to worry about. It was a kind of fortuitous encounter… like that.”

At Yuwon’s answer, Terrien’s eyes widened.

“Then you’ve gotten stronger again? You were only gone for a short while.”

“I suppose so.”

Just when Terrien thought he might finally step on Yuwon’s shadow, Yuwon moved far ahead on his own once more. Terrien failed to hide his surprise at the words that Yuwon had grown again.

“Haah… Just when I think I’ve gotten strong enough to at least keep up appearances as a knight, Your Highness goes far ahead again.”

“Not Your Highness anymore. His Majesty now.”

Yuwon lightly corrected Hastings’ manner of speech.

“Ah! Y-yes, His Majesty. I beg your pardon. The title ‘Your Highness’ just slipped out since it’s so familiar….”

At Terrien’s flustered reaction, as if he had committed some grave offense, Yuwon smiled warmly and patted his shoulder.

“That’s enough. What importance do titles really have? What matters is the heart with which you serve me.”

“I… no, Your Majesty…!”

Terrien bit his lip tightly, looking deeply moved by Yuwon’s words.

“I won’t take issue with it, so you may take your time getting used to it. But remember this one thing. I will not remain in this Great Jungle forever.”

“Your Majesty….”

“Terrien. In the future, you will become the sword of me, Yurion Aphahiel, and roam the battlefield. When that time comes, you may instead come to miss this Great Jungle. So steel your heart. That time is drawing near.”

As he spoke, Yuwon subtly shifted his gaze toward the northern sky where the continent lay. It was a declaration that he would someday return to that stolen land and reclaim the imperial throne of Aphahiel. Terrien replied with sparkling eyes, clearly moved.

“Yes, I will engrave it in my heart, again and again. Your Majesty.”

“Good. Then shall we see how diligently you worked while I was away?”

“Yes…? You were only gone for a single day…?”

“Was I?”

“Yes.”

“Even so, it can’t be helped. I want to check just how much stronger I’ve become. Will you indulge me?”

“It would be an honor!”

“Yes, that’s how it should be.”

Always fully prepared, Terrien immediately drew his sword and finished readying himself.

“Though it is only a spar, please forgive the rudeness of pointing my blade at Your Majesty.”

From Terrien, who had instantly taken a mounted stance, a sharp presence burst forth like a finely honed blade. At that sight, Yuwon smiled faintly.

‘Good. You’ve really grown a lot. Now you’d more than pull your own weight wherever you’re placed.’

That thought only existed because Yuwon’s standards were exceedingly high. Terrien, who had made the power of lightning his own, was far beyond a level of merely “pulling his own weight.” Unless it was as a leader, perhaps.

Still smiling, Yuwon drew two daggers from his chest.

“Come. I’ll yield the first strike.”

“Then… here I go!”

Soon after, Terrien’s sword aimed for Yuwon like a bolt of lightning, and in the blink of an eye, a metallic clash rang out as their weapons met.

Clang—!

Yuwon and Terrien finished preparing for the rough battlefield to come. All that remained were Hastings, the Great Jungle, and their enemies.

Somewhere in the abandoned desert of the southern region of the Aphahiel Empire, where no human footsteps reached.

“Huff… huff… huff….”

“Haa… how… how can a single person possess such strength….”

“No matter how much he claims to be Salaman’s successor, this is… judging by that youthful voice, he’s clearly a young man….”

After the sun had set, leaving only deep darkness, harsh breathing and awe-filled sighs lingered in the air.

Those breathing roughly numbered around a dozen. All of them were dressed head to toe in dark black garments. Their identities were none other than elders, high-ranking figures of the secret southern organization, the Assassination Order.

And at the center of the circle they formed stood a lone man, his appearance concealed in similar attire. Unlike the others, his breathing was completely steady. Standing tall.

At a glance, it looked as though the man had been surrounded. In reality, it was the opposite. The man standing firm alone slowly looked around and then opened his tightly closed mouth.

“…This should be enough proof, I suppose.”

“….”

At the man’s question, the elders of the Assassination Order, who had boldly launched a pincer attack against him, fell silent. Ten mouths, yet not a single word escaped. It was only natural. They were barely managing to process the unbelievable sight unfolding before their eyes.

The elders, who had exhausted even their last ounce of strength and collapsed onto the desert sand, looked up at the man standing at their center with eyes filled with fear and reverence.

‘Just what kind of life has this man lived….’

‘He claimed to be Salaman’s successor… was all of that true…? Where did such a monster suddenly come from…!’

A man who had suddenly appeared one day, calling himself Salaman’s successor and declaring that he would place the Assassination Order beneath his feet. There was no way the elders would accept that quietly, and thus the current situation had come to be.

The man, waiting for their answer, asked again.

“…There is no response. Do you submit?”

“Th-that is….”

Among the elders, one who still had enough strength to speak continued haltingly.

“Yes. Please speak.”

“Are you truly… Salaman-nim’s successor…?”

“I am not familiar with the name Salaman. However, it is true that I received teachings from him while he lived another life under a different name. Perhaps this will serve as proof.”

With that, the man slowly slipped his hand into his chest and drew out a single dagger. From the hilt to the sheath, it was entirely black. Within the raven engraved upon the blade, the raven’s red eyes gleamed strangely.

There was only one man in this world who possessed that dagger. The man who had simultaneously faced and swiftly defeated the elders of the Assassination Order, masters capable of silently taking lives without a trace. His identity was Hastings. Under the moonlight of the southern desert stood Hastings Bartlett, Yuwon’s loyal servant.

“Th-that is Salaman-nim’s Raven Dagger…!”

It was the desert night. In the deep darkness where no light existed except the moon, the elders nevertheless saw the dagger Hastings had drawn with perfect clarity. Voices erupted from all around.

“…So even you old fools remember. Even now, I can clearly recall Salaman-nim roaming the south with that blade more than twenty years ago. Heh… hehehe….”

“Who would dare use Salaman-nim’s name falsely, I wondered, and thought I’d at least see the face and teach him a lesson… turns out I was the one taught instead.”

Among them, even self-mocking laughter mixed in.

“Kehkehkeh… I thought that old man Naramshin had gone senile… looks like I got properly beaten. Kehkeh.”

“Kikikiki! When you put it that way, it makes sense. That fox-like old general manager really landed a blow like this in the end.”

What was so amusing? It was laughter that was self-deprecating, yet somehow refreshing.

Defeated and half-thrown onto the sand, the elders all laughed quietly. Hastings, his face hidden beneath his mask, silently waited for their laughter to subside, recalling the words he had heard from the general manager.

― Those who have long awaited Salaman-nim’s successor, like myself, would settle matters simply upon seeing the Raven Dagger… but it has been a long time since he left his seat, and many have already erased Salaman-nim from their memories. In the end, our Assassination Order is a group that worships strength, so the best course would be for the sect leader to demonstrate his power… ―

If the matter could be resolved simply by showing the blade, that would have been fine. However, Hastings’ competitive spirit had pushed that option aside. He, too, had wanted to know how much he had grown after the fortuitous encounter he gained in the stone cavern. And the result had led to this moment.

Hastings, and the elders of the Assassination Order embedded in the sand before him. Yet whether things were truly going well remained questionable.

‘The general manager said that knocking them down and showing the blade would solve everything… but is this really being resolved…?’

As such doubts continued to surface in Hastings’ mind, the elders finally seemed to have laughed their fill and began to compose themselves.

“No, no. This is no time for this. A new master has arrived, and yet here we are, sprawled on the sand laughing.”

“That’s true. Get up, everyone. Shouldn’t we offer our greetings?”

“Indeed. Of course! Up we go, now.”

Though they could not compare to Hastings, who had gained a fortuitous encounter in the southern desert, the elders were no ordinary men either. Quickly gathering themselves, they steadied their bodies, rose, and assembled at Hastings’ feet.

“…?”

Before Hastings’ gaze, wondering what they were about to do, the elders lined up neatly, removed the masks that had concealed their faces, and revealed their bare visages.

This was the highest form of etiquette one could show to a superior within the Assassination Order. For those who lived by assassination, revealing one’s face was no different from entrusting one’s life.

“We failed to recognize you. Salaman-nim’s successor.”

“Welcome.”

“…Whatever becomes of the other branches is irrelevant. I and my subordinates, the Sand Blade Branch, will accept Salaman-nim’s successor as the rightful sect leader and follow you.”

The elders who led each branch of the Assassination Order gathered before Hastings and welcomed their new master.

They were not like ordinary assassin groups. While most assassin organizations chased money, the Assassination Order purely worshipped strength. To them, assassination was merely a convenient means to sustain daily life. And the power Hastings had shown was more than enough to seize their hearts in an instant.

“Thank you. I will require your assistance.”

Marcellus, a man shrouded in secrets. The ties he had left behind in the south reached his successor, Hastings.

Hastings, the last Shadow Raven of Reqil. Hastings repaired the broken wings of the raven once more. He, too, seemed to have finished his preparations.

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