Overlord (Light Novel) Chapter 33

A Young Man's Heart

Part 1

Lower Fire Month (9th Month), 2nd Day, 23:30

The man lit the lantern that hung at his waist. It used a special oil for fuel, which produced a green flame, and it gave off a creepy-looking light which illuminated the surroundings.

He stepped outside, and felt as though he were walking into a wall of heat. A look of distaste crossed the man's face, but the season had always been hot to begin with, and nothing could be done about it. Around this period, every place in the Kingdom was still muggy and unpleasant, even after sunset. That said, the time of harsh heat was gone, and the temperature ought to go down as time went by.

Still, there was no sign that it was changing for the cooler.

“Yeah. I heard that it's cooler up north, near the ocean,” the man grumbled. His partner for tonight replied:

He looked to the sky as he said that. The sky was clear; there were no clouds in the sky, to say nothing of rainclouds. The constellations seemed abnormally large, but it was simply the usual night sky.

It would not be quite right to describe these men as ordinary villagers. For starters, they were armed. They wore leather armor and had longswords at their waist; far too militarized for ordinary village guards. In addition, their faces and bodies did not look like those of farmers, but hinted at a familiarity with violence.

Shrouded in night, the village was silent save for their footsteps. They pressed forward steadily amidst this sinister atmosphere, as though nothing else lived here. Their calm attitudes suggested that patrols like these were daily business for them.

This was not so much a village as a military base.

Under normal circumstances, most people would only encircle residences and storehouses when building a wall, and leave the crop fields outside. That was because a wall that was big enough to include the fields would be a ruinous investment of time and money. However, this village had done precisely that, gathering the green fields of crops which swayed in the night wind into its walls, within the village. It was as though said crops were gold bullion which had to be hoarded.

That said, when he thought about his colleague's skills, the man was not very excited about having them support him with arrow shots. However, he was greatly reassured by the fact that his friends could wake all their comrades by ringing the alarm bell.

He did not wish to lose his life over a small matter.

As he considered his future with distaste, the man continued his slow walk through the village down his fixed route.

Right after it lifted the man's chin, searing pain blossomed over his exposed throat. This sequence of actions took less than a second.

That was the last sound the man would ever hear in his life.

The hand holding his mouth let go, supporting him from behind so he would not slump to the ground. After verifying that the man had been thoroughly exsanguinated, his assailant pulled out the Vampire Blade, the weapon which had killed him.

Another similarly-dressed figure emerged from behind the other man's back. Much like her partner, she wore a metal breastplate. The first looked to the second, and nodded.

Somewhere in the corner of her heart, she breathed a sigh of relief.

She paid no attention to the dagger, whose bright red hue had become even more vibrant after draining blood, and propped up the man's body before it could collapse.

Something had to be done right away. However, that was not their job.

The man was still moving despite being clearly dead, but the woman was not alarmed. Everything was proceeding as planned.

The two of them blended into the men's shadows, and the men stepped forward, like they had been suddenly unshackled. The pause and then the way they walked their original patrol route looked like they had suddenly remembered what they had to do. However, they moved slowly and clumsily. Their wounds had not been healed, but they did not leak blood either. That was because said blood had been completely drained from their bodies.

The women were not the Zombies' creator.

Their eyes could not see anything, but one of the ninja skills they had learned allowed them to detect the presence of those who were concealed by magic or some other skills, and one such entity stood before them.

“Perfect.”

“Mm, got it, I saw it all. I'll be heading to the next location. I need to catch someone who's sufficiently important.”

“We're going to begin our assault too. How about the other two?”

“As if. They're hiding near the village and they've set themselves up. In an emergency, they'll launch a frontal assault coordinated with you for a pincer attack. Alright, I'll be heading towards Priority One. Stick to the plan, you two.”

The presence drew further away, until she vanished into the building she had designated as Priority One. This was one of the structures within the village, and a key point which had to be taken.

Many people regarded that form of magical communication as unreliable, and so it was rarely used. However, there were others who did not think of it in that way and made use of it. For instance, there was the Empire and its cadre of nationally-trained magic casters, a certain number of important traders who valued the quick reception of information, and then the enemies who controlled this village. Therefore, their top priority was to apprehend the communications personnel within the building.

The two ninjas exhaled suddenly, and ran.

One of them flashed a series of hand signals to her companion as they ran. Though it was merely a series of finger-bending movements, the meaning was immediately clear.

Came the reply: “Agreed”.

—Good point. Things are much easier without dogs being drawn by the scent of blood.

After her response, her companion rapidly signalled:

She replied, “Got it”, and then her companion peeled away and to the side.

Those fields did not grow wheat, grains or green vegetables. The plants there were the raw ingredient for a forbidden drug whose spread was on the rise throughout the Kingdom, called “Black Powder”. There were many such fields within the walls of this village, and they all grew the same crop. This proved that this village was a center of drug cultivation.

The drug known as Black Powder was also known as Lailah Powder. It was a black, powdery substance that was dissolved into water and drunk.

She snorted as she thought about the Black Powder's side effects.

Black Powder, made from a concoction of wild plants, was originally a powerful poison. Who would believe that such a toxic plant was not poisonous?

Even so, the Black Powder was still very poisonous, and it would only be eliminated from the body after a very long time had passed. As a result, many abusers who stopped using the drug often dosed themselves again before it had completely left the body. As a result, after reaching a certain stage of addiction, it was nearly impossible for users to quit the habit cold turkey, unless the priests used their magic to forcibly purge their system of the drug.

It was little wonder that the Empire had submitted formal complaints on the matter, on the suspicion that the Kingdom was running an underground industry in the production of Black Powder.

However, she had been hired for this job, and her personal opinion had no say in it. Still—

—She was not entirely comfortable with this request.

Hm, isn't it three of them now?

Her task was to recover all the intelligence within this building, and then to set the fields on fire.

The thick smoke emitted by the burning drugs was poisonous, but it had to be done to complete the mission.

Sacrifices must be made.

With those words to herself, she cast all thoughts of the villagers' safety out of her mind.

More importantly, after the attack here was completed, she would need to use teleportation magic to move to another village and burn it down as well. That plan occupied her mind and consumed all her efforts.

All we can do is pull up the weeds where we find them… it's tiring, but there's no other way…

Leader would be happy if we could find some traces of the organization's involvement in this…

This organization was divided into eight divisions, responsible for the slave trade, assassination, smuggling, burglary, drug-trafficking, security, finance and gambling. These eight divisions worked together as the collective kingpins of the Kingdom's crime. Due to the size of their organization, their full extent was veiled in secrecy.

They were openly growing contraband plants in villages. That alone was proof that the lord of the land was in cahoots with them. However, even an official inquiry would not bear fruit.

There were limits to the legal action that could be taken, and even if one wished to stop the flow of drugs, the process would be impeded by corrupt nobles aligned to the organization. The situation had deteriorated to the point where those who stood on the right side of the law could no longer resolve it.

Her frank opinion was that burning these drugs was only treating the symptoms, and not the disease. The illegal organization eating away at the heart of the Kingdom was too powerful, and their political backing was too strong.

Part 2

The cacophony of the falling droplets rang in the ears.

Splashes of water flew up as raindrops fell upon the water's surface. The wind blew ripples through said splashes, and the scent of water was heavy in the air, making the Royal Capital feel as though it were submerged underwater.

He lived in a run-down hovel. No, using the word hovel would be giving the location underserved praise. That building was supported by narrow beams as wide around as a man's forearm. A tatty piece of cloth substituted for a roof, and the edges which draped down served as walls.

When one thought about it, the wood supports and the tatty cloth that served as both roof and walls were most likely the fruit of this boy's hard work — like a child building a secret base.

勉强做得出来的——就像小孩子游玩建造的秘密基地。

The boy had been soaked by the frigid rain long before entering his home, and he was rapidly losing body heat.

However, this bone-chilling cold soothed the bruises which covered his body. That was the only solace for him amidst these horrific conditions.

The only things he could hear were the sound of the rain and his own breathing. There was nothing else in the absence of those sounds, which made him think he was the only person left in the world.

He was not afraid of it because he was young, and did not fully understand the concept of death. In addition, he did not feel that there was any particular reason to continue living. He had been clinging to life all this time because he was afraid of pain and fled it.

He slowly lost the feeling in his rain-soaked body, and his mind began to fade into a blur.

This was the sole morsel of joy he clung to. Did that mean that everything else was suffering?

But then, his hovel was sometimes taken by others, or destroyed by those who took pleasure in wrecking it, and he was also beaten up by drunken men so his entire body ached. Was that suffering, then?

The boy suffered, yet he was blind to his own suffering.

The misery of which he was blissfully ignorant would end here.

—Yes, Death was absolute.

He closed his eyes.

He could hear his own faint heartbeat in the darkness. The sound of the rain blended with it, but then he heard something strange intrude into this world of his.

“It” entered the narrow field of his vision.

It was beautiful.

The best description for it would be “gem-like”, or “glittering like gold”. Of course, someone like him who ate discarded, half-rotten food to survive the days could not think of such things.

There was only one thing in his mind.

That was the most distant, unattainable thing he could imagine. That word appeared in his mind.

那是他所知道最漂亮，最伸手不可及的东西。这个词汇浮现在脑中。

A thought like that ran through his mind.

The boy was originally not a human being.

But on this day, he became a human being.

♦ ♦ ♦

This was the Royal Capital of the Re-Estize Kingdoms. The Fortress Ro-Lante stood at its heart, its grounds encircled by 1'400 meters of curtain walls with 20 huge towers spaced along its length.

The lanterns were out in this none-too-spacious room, and there was a bed in there. A young man, somewhere between boyhood and adolescence, lay on the bed.

Climb.

He rose early, always before the sun rose.

His eyes opened wide, and an iron will burned within them.

He touched his fingertips to the corner of his eyes. They came away wet.

Climb wiped his tears away with his sleeves.

He was not crying out of heartbreak.

On that day, when Climb had the good fortune of encountering a certain lady, he had decided to give his life for her at any time.

Climb's youthful face was filled with a steady determination as he rose to his feet.

Regular soldiers would not be allocated individual rooms. They would share double bunks and live in groups. The only other furniture they were assigned besides their beds was a locked wooden chest for storing personal items.

Naturally, Climb had not earned such special treatment through his own merits. This was a gift from the liege to whom Climb owed his loyalty. Thus, it was unavoidable that others would resent him.

First, he put on an old set of clothes. They smelled of metal, no matter how many times he washed them. Then he slipped a chain shirt over it. Normally, he would have donned his armor on top of that, but there was no need to be so formal right now. In its place, he wore a many-pocketed vest and a pair of pants, and then he was dressed. He held a bucket with a cloth in it.

Any mistakes Climb made would be fodder for attacks launched against the “Golden” Princess whom he served.

Climb closed his eyes before the mirror, and imagined his Mistress' face.

As expected of her high-born bloodline, she was surrounded in a sacrosanct aura, like a goddess descending upon the earth. She seemed to glow with compassion, and her mind produced many wise plans and policies.

Her golden brilliance — like an immaculate gemstone — could not be marred in any way.

Climb's chest burned uncontrollably as he thought about his Mistress.

He examined himself for a while longer. After he was certain that he would not disgrace his Mistress, Climb nodded in satisfaction and left the room.

3rd Day of the Lower Fire (9th) Month, 4:35

Usually, this place would be abuzz with heat and activity from the soldiers here. However, it was early, so there was nobody here. The empty room was silent. The surroundings were made of stone, which made Climb's footsteps echo exceptionally loudly.

Within the hall, there were pieces of armor tied to wooden pillars and dummies made of straw, to serve as archery targets. All manner of blunted weapons hung on the wall.

The Valencia Palace lay within Ro-Lante Keep. Therefore, having soldiers train outside, where ambassadors and diplomatic parties could see them, would be boorish. Thus, several indoor training halls had been built within the towers.

That said, some training still needed to be conducted outdoors. At times like those, the soldiers had to do so secretly in corners, or in fields outside the Keep or outside the Capital entirely.

After about half an hour of stretching, Climb's face was an uncommon shade of red. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he exhaled puffs of smoke from his exertions.

After that, he loaded his pockets with metal slabs and fastened them in place, lest the slabs fall out.

However, Climb did not want to wear a suit of full plate armor just for regular practice. In addition, he knew that the white armor he had been awarded was not suitable for training. Therefore, he used the metal slabs as a substitute.

He repeated these movements around 300 times.

Climb had been through harsh training as a soldier, but the weight of a greatsword was still quite heavy to him. Controlling the sword's speed to keep it from striking the ground after swinging it down required considerable arm strength.

Climb realised that he was at his limit. Even so, he did not intend to stop here.

“Don't you think it's time to take a break?”

There was no better word to describe him than “mighty”. Indeed, he was a man who looked like a slab of forged steel. His stony face wrinkled, and the lines thus produced made him look older than his actual age. His bulging muscles proved that he was no ordinary person.

“—Stronoff-sama.”

“You'll be overtraining if you keep it up. There's no point forcing yourself.”

“You're right. I might have been overdoing it.”

“If you really understand, then don't make me keep nagging you about the same old thing. How many times is this, anyway?”

Gazef shrugged again as Climb bowed in apology.

“How about it, Climb. Shall we go a round or two?”

They had met here in the past, but they had never crossed blades. That was an unspoken rule between them.

The Kingdom was now divided into the Royal Faction and the Noble Faction, the latter of which was composed of a coalition of three of the nation's Six Great Nobles. The power struggle between them left the Kingdom's situation in a very precarious state. Some even felt that the only reason the country had not yet fallen apart was because of its yearly wars with the Empire.

As for Climb, suffering a grievous defeat might mean that the nobles would no longer allow him to defend Princess Renner's body. The fact that many nobles were disgusted that a nameless soldier like Climb was actually permitted to stay by her side, being that she was a world-class beauty who was also an unmarried princess.

More than that, they could not allow others to see their weaknesses and give their enemies an opening to exploit. Both of them were of common birth, and so they had to be very careful in everything they did, in order not to cause problems for their masters.

Climb looked around.

Climb had no idea if it was because of a good or a bad reason. He was confused and shocked, but he did not express it on his face.

“Recently, I've begun feeling that my skills are inadequate. Therefore, I wanted to train with someone who could last a while against me.”

What exactly had happened to make Gazef, the Kingdom's best warrior, doubt his own skills? Just then, Climb remembered that the unit Gazef led was short of several people.

“Indeed. If not for a certain compassionate magic caster who aided me against the foe, I might not be standing here today—”

“What sort of person was that compassionate magic caster?”

Climb had never heard that name before.

Of course, he might have been using an alias.

Climb tamped down his curiosity.

“I shall remember the name of that great person… then, is it really alright for me to train with you?”

This was high praise, but Climb could only take it as standard courtesy.

Among the adventurers' rankings of copper, iron, silver, gold, platinum, mithril, orichalcum and adamantite, Climb himself would be gold-ranked at best. He was not weak, but there were many others who were stronger than himself.

Climb chased away those weak-minded thoughts of his.

“Then, I pray you will exchange a few blows with me.”

The two of them went for the weapons cabinet and picked out weapons suited for themselves. Gazef selected a bastard sword, while Climb selected a small shield and a broadsword.

His foe was the mightiest warrior in the Kingdom. He had to focus all his energies and experience the power of mighty wall before him with all his strength.

“Are your arms alright? Are they still stiff?”

Climb waved his arms. Gazef saw his movements and nodded, knowing that he was not lying.

“No, no, I haven't. Would you like me to swing again—”

“Yes!”

“Please don't say that, Stronoff-sama. Thank you for the lecture!”

“Then, let's start once you're ready. Start by giving me your best shot in your current condition. After that, depending on the time… Well, I might not be able to put you through your paces, but I'll find a chance to explain the Nine Arts and the secrets of fighting with other weapons.”

“Very well. However, I'm not treating this as practice. Come at me like this was a real battle.”

The two of them locked eyes, but Climb could not bring himself to make the first move.

Stepping carelessly into his reach would only invite a counterattack. Gazef was a better warrior than he was, so perhaps it could not be helped. However, if this were a real battle, did that mean he should simply throw his life away because “it could not be helped”?

The answer was: he had to attack the weaknesses in Gazef's stance.

Gazef used a bastard sword. In comparison, Climb was using a broadsword and a small shield. Perhaps if his equipment was enchanted, he might be able to compensate, but these were practice arms, so their weapons were fundamentally the same.

—He would deflect a blow with his shield and then strike with his sword. Either that, or use his sword to make an opening and then bash with his shield.

After several seconds. Gazef chuckled.

Gazef raised his sword in a casual manner. He lowered his stance, gathering strength like a coiling spring. Climb too began suffusing his body with might, ready to deflect any attack which might come.

—So fast!

And in the next moment — a startling impact exploded on his shield.

To think I actually wanted to deflect it! What kind of timing would you need to exploit a weakness in that technique? At the very least, I need to endure that blow!

“Guwaargh!”

Gazef was retracting the leg which had sent Climb flying with a vicious kick.

他正好在收回猛力踹飞克莱姆的那只脚。

“..Yes.”

Gazef was the Kingdom's mightiest warrior, and his physical strength matched his reputation. If Gazef had been serious, he could have easily broken Climb's ribs through his chain shirt or otherwise left him unable to fight. The fact that Climb had not suffered such a fate was probably because Gazef had not been fighting in earnest. Instead, he had merely picked out a target with his foot and then applied a bit of force, so all he had done was send Climb flying.

As he savored the taste of being personally tutored by the greatest warrior in the Kingdom, Climb raised his sword again, his heart brimming with gratitude.

Climb covered himself up with his shield again. He inched towards Gazef, who studied Climb in silence. If this kept up, he would only be make the same old mistakes again. As Climb closed in, he was forced to reconsider his tactics.

However, agonizing over that fact would be a form of arrogance.

It would be terribly rude for someone like Climb to grumble about not being able to force a gifted individual to use his true abilities. Rather, he should blame his own lack of talent for not being able to make his opponent go all-out.

Climb gnashed his teeth quietly.

He felt guilty that the Princess' sole sword was so weak that it had to be gingerly wielded.

There was only one thought within his heart.

***

That was because the young man before him had a different look on his own face. Until just now, he looked like a starstruck lad, eager and nervous. But with a simple kick, that annoying mood was gone, and now he looked like a proper warrior.

Gazef thought better of Climb than the lad himself did. What he appreciated most was Climb's hunger for strength, as well as loyalty which bordered on zealotry. Next was his sword skills.

Gazef felt that this was a good thing.

However, Climb was different. Gazef was sure that he could slay his foes and safeguard the people who were important to him.

“You've changed your attitude, but I'm still far superior to you. What will you do now?”

Climb's desire to become stronger than anyone else was nothing more than a dream or fantasy.

The answer was simple enough; Gazef could not overlook Climb's unwavering diligence, however useless it was. If every man had their own personal limits, then one could say that Gazef pitied the fact that Climb hurled himself bodily against the wall of his own limits.

He felt that there was a limit to one's abilities, but not limit to one's experience.

So I'm using him as a substitute, huh… I'm doing Climb a disservice… but I doubt sparring with me will do him any harm.

He received a strident answer to his self-directed mumbling.

***

Unlike just now, Gazef's expression was stern as he raised his sword into a high stance.

If Climb blocked with his shield, he would be stopped in his tracks. If he blocked it with his sword, his weapon would be knocked away. That attack essentially made his defense meaningless. Blocking it was a poor move, but Climb was using a broadsword, compared to Gazef's bastard sword.

It was like running into a tiger's maw — but Climb only hesitated for a moment.

Gazef was waiting for him, and when he swung down, Climb blocked it with his shield. The awesome impact was greater than the one he had felt just now. Climb grimaced as pain worked its way down his arm.

There was some disappointment on Gazef's face as he aimed his foot at Climb's belly, and then—

—The look on Gazef's face changed to one of shock as he heard Climb shout.

However, Climb knew that Gazef would go for a kick, so he did not have to worry about that.

“Yes, sir!”

“[Slash]!”

You need to develop a technique that you can deploy with confidence.

Climb's body was not sheathed in muscles. He had been born with an average physique, and building muscle was difficult. Neither was he gifted with dexterity, allowing him to move as he willed even with a musclebound body.

The fruit of that was this downwards stroke. It was a high-speed slashing attack that had been refined to extraordinary levels, a flash of steel followed by a mighty wind.

It would be fatal if it connected, but Climb was not thinking about that. His trust in Gazef was absolute. He had only used this move because he was certain that the mighty Gazef would not be done in by an attack of that level.

All this was still within his expectations.

However, Gazef remained as motionless as a mountain.

Climb had struck his mightiest blow with all the strength he could muster. Yet even the combination of these two factors could not shake Gazef standing on one foot. This fact shocked Climb to the core, and his eyes went to his belly.

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As Climb leapt away, said kick struck Climb's body.

Gazef lowered his eyes and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

“Very well done. Therefore, I shall get a little serious now.”

A thrill of terror ran through Climb's body. That was because his instincts told him that the Kingdom's strongest fighter now stood before him.

“…Thank you very much.”

Gazef took a step forward, twice as fast as Climb stepping in.

There was a fierce clash. Just as Climb realized it, Gazef's sword bounced up. The bastard sword travelled along the body of the broadsword in an upwards slash.

Climb threw his face — and the rest of his body — backward, and the bastard sword zipped past his body. Several strands of severed hair fell in the wake of the swing.

His body was moving before his mind could think.

And then —

There was a surge of pain, and then Climb was sent flying across the room. He struck the ground rolling, and the impact jarred his sword loose from his grip.

“Flow from move to move. Do not think of attack and defense as separate things. Every movement must be made in order to launch the next attack. Think of your defense as a way of setting up an attack.”

“I didn't use too much force to spare you a fracture, so you should be able to fight, right? How do you feel?”

He was only wasting Gazef's time if he could not even take a few hits. That said, Climb still wanted to become as strong as possible.

“Alright. Then let's continue.”

With that hoarse cry, Climb broke into a run.

“Huuu… huu… huu…”

As pain flooded into his mind from all over his body, his whole body was gripped in a sudden surge of fatigue, and his eyes closed lightly.

“…”

Then he opened his eyes.

The waves of pain were quite light. They would not affect his duties of protecting the Princess.

“Mm. Besides, using it carelessly will remove the effects of muscle training.”

“Yes.”

The medicine bottle clinked as Gazef set it down by Climb's side.

He sat up, looking at Gazef. He looked upon the man whose swordplay he could not hope to match.

“What's wrong?”

Gazef's forehead was devoid of sweat. His breathing was calm and regular. Was this the difference between Climb, sprawled on the ground, and the strongest man in the Kingdom?

Gazef, on the other hand, seemed to be grinning.

“Why—”

“In that sense, you're quite suited for my style of fighting with fists and feet, Climb.”

“Oh yes. You haven't been trained as a swordsman or a soldier, but that has its good points too. Once one picks up a sword, it's only natural to focus on using it… but I don't think that's a good thing. I feel that the sword should only be an attack method, alongside punching and kicking and so on. That's a practical fighting style; or a dirty… an adventurer's fighting style.”

He was delighted that his swordsmanship — which the aristocrats scorned — had received such accolades.

“No, because the Princess has a guest today.”

To think that Princess would have a caller. Gazef was quite surprised, and then Climb answered:

“Aindra? Oh! …Which Aindra is it? From Blue… or is it Red?”

Gazef sighed in visible relief.

Gazef had guessed that Renner had barred Climb from her side because she had a friend over, but the truth was that Climb had gently refused the invitation.

3rd Day of the Lower Fire (9th) Month, 6:22

After bidding farewell to Gazef, Climb wiped off his sweat with a damp towel and headed to a place that was drastically different from the training hall of just now.

This room was around the same size as the training hall in question. It was filled with many long tables and benches, packed with people chatting happily away. A delicious fragrance filled the warm air of the room.

This was the dining hall.

Much like the people in front of him, Climb had several stacked containers in front of him. There was a tray, a wooden dish, a wooden spoon, and finally a wooden cup.

One slightly-larger-than-usual steamed potato with brown bread, a thick white stew laden with ingredients, pickled cabbage and a sausage. To Climb, this was a sumptuous meal.

The noisy soldiers were currently eating. They sat with their friends and as they ate, they talked about what they would do on their next leave, the food, their families, and other light topics. This was standard fare.

He stepped over the bench and took a seat. There were soldiers on either side of him, chatting heartily with their friends. As Climb sat down, they turned to look at him, but then they immediately lost interest and turned their eyes elsewhere.

An onlooker might think this was quite creepy.

It was as though Climb did not exist to them.

The guards in Ro-Lante Keep were not mere soldiers.

Of course, allowing commoners of uncertain provenance to approach the Royal Household and the Palace, with its many secrets, would cause a lot of problems.

However, this practice led to a certain phenomenon.

All the sponsoring nobles belonged to one faction or another. The troops they recommended would naturally join their masters' factions. Since anybody who opposed the nobles had no chance of being picked at all, it was hardly a leap to say that all the soldiers here were affiliated with one faction or another.

Of course, Climb was much more skilled than them, but the nobles had managed to find fault even with that. After all, he was stronger than the troops which the nobles themselves had put forward.

There was a similar individual among the serried ranks of hand-picked troops.

Climb was in a very awkward position.

However, there were exceptions, in the form of Gazef Stronoff — the Kingdom's strongest soldier — and the elite troops under his command. And then, almost nobody could publicly object to Princess Renner's fervent wish. Perhaps a member of the Royal Household could gainsay her, but since the King, the highest authority in the land, had given his approval, nobody else could object to it.

Renner's word had given him a room of his own. But at the same time, it separated him from the others. After all, Climb was not affiliated with any faction and was uncomfortable in either camp, so he was like a hot potato.

In the end, Climb had become a very prickly being to take into their fold. Instead, they chose to leave him alone and wait for him to volunteer to help of his own accord. On the other hand, the Noble faction felt that drawing Climb in would have benefits, but it would also be like letting a wolf into their own homes.

In any case, nobody had been careless enough to risk splintering their faction for Climb.

That was why nobody spoke to him, and he was left to eat by himself.

“Alright, let's go.”

Climb's face was impassive as an elbow struck the place where he had been hurt while sparring with Gazef, but he froze from the pain.

Climb sighed deeply, and headed out with his bowl and plate.

Nearly being tripped by an extended foot. People running into him under the pretense of an accident. He was used to these things. However —

Climb continued forward. They could not do anything more to him — not in a public place like the dining hall.

Climb kept his chin up throughout. His eyes were fixed forward and he would not waver.

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If he showed any sign of unseemly behavior, it would cause problems for his mistress Renner. After all, every move Climb made reflected directly on the reputation of Renner — the woman to whom he owed his loyalty.

Chapter end