The 9th Class Swordmaster: Blade of Truth

Chapter 132: The Minotaur’s Dungeon (3)

Vroom—

The low rumble of the engine echoed.

The situation room at the top of the airship was made entirely of a special glass, making one feel like they were soaring through the sky. The clouds brushing past and scattering against the airship gave a sense of its speed.

“Your Highness,” Gordon Fabian called out to Kromen from the captain’s seat as they were about to land in the territory of the Digon tribe. Normally, addressing a prince while seated was considered a serious offense within the empire, but Gordon Fabian, one of the continent's five Sword Masters, could get away with it.

“Yes, Sir Gordon.”

“The First Prince is marching with his forces to subdue the southerners, while the Second Prince is seeking reconciliation through Digon.”

Kromen nodded.

“Fortunately, unlike the two princes traveling by land, we’re moving with the continent’s only airship. Thanks to this, we’ve arrived in the south much faster than the two princes,” Gordon boasted. “With this, you have the privilege of making the first choice, Your Highness.”

“...”

“What will it be, hostility or reconciliation?”

Although smiling, Gordon exerted the overwhelming pressure of a giant beast eyeing its prey, causing Kromen to turn pale.

“That is....”

Kromen hesitated. Weak and merely a child, he could neither adopt Luon's bold strategies nor absorb his power gradually like Olivurn.

How could such a weak child be born to Titan Shutean? It’s unfortunate. He has no supporting faction and shows no significant ability...

Kromen was simply destined to be eliminated. The fate of a prince who fell out of the struggle for the throne was obvious.

Or perhaps, this is his way of surviving, by not taking any action.

Whether Luon or Olivurn ascended to the throne, the other was doomed. And if Kromen had no chance of ascending to the throne, perhaps it was better to simply find a way to preserve his life.

In that sense, the emperor is cruel. Or should I say, he’s simply an imperial?

Pitting his children, who were after his position, against each other—what did that truly entail?

Many nobles stand by the prince they’ve chosen, but they won’t stage a rebellion to seize the throne. Ultimately, as long as the emperor is alive, they have no choice but to follow his orders.

In the end, the emperor likely planned to weaken the princes through this expedition in the south and ultimately prevent them from chasing after his position for the time being.

The variable is....

Gordon Fabian glanced at Kromen, who stood before him.

It’s Kormen, isn’t it? The emperor and the other princes probably realize that Kromen is the only one who can make a change, but they don’t think he’ll be able to do anything.

Throughout this expedition, Gordon kept pondering—why would the emperor spend so much on the Guidance Mercenary Gang to support Kromen, the prince with virtually no power?

Does he expect him to do something?

The emperor obviously wanted to get something out of sending Kromen in the south. In that case, his intentions were clear. It wasn’t Kromen he wanted there, but Gordon himself.

Hmph....

Gordon snorted as he looked at the man standing beside the Third Prince. A priest in a white robe with a mace hanging at his waist—Yurin Huygar.

He was the only support the emperor had provided Kromen. Of course, one priest was insignificant against knights and an army of seventy thousand troops, but Gordon knew very well what kind of man Yurin was.

He’s not the brightest, but he’s ambitious. Moreover, despite being a priest of the Church, his skills are close to that of a Sword Master.

Although Yurin was just one man, his presence carried more weight than anyone would expect. Indeed, with him, Kromen’s expedition possessed a power that neither Luon or Olivurn could replicate—the power of the Church.

Having a 1st Class priest with him would certainly restrict Luon and Olivurn’s actions against Kromen.

Well... As long as I’m here, they won’t dare to make any hasty moves.

Therefore, Gordon couldn’t rule out the possibility that the emperor had given Yurin secret orders.

“How troublesome,” he muttered under his breath. But despite his low tone, everyone, being on high alert, instantly took notice of him.

Gordon glanced at Yurin.

It’s strange. He’s been restless ever since we set out, like a dog needing to relieve itself.

For some reason, Yurin seemed reluctant to head south.

“It seems that you are still undecided, Your Highness.”

“Uh... that’s...”

Despite being spoken to with respect, Kromen’s shrinking posture made it clear that he was too nervous to come up with a response.

“It’s neither appeasement nor hostility. As representatives of the empire, we will judge the actions of the Ryeo Knights after they crossed into the south on their own,” someone intervened.

Everyone turned from Gordon to the source of the voice.

“Are you saying we should go and apologize? You think that’s what the emperor wants, for the empire to bow to barbarians?”

Step- Step- Step-

A boy stepped forward confidently, unaffected by Gordon’s firm yet curious gaze.

“It’s not an apology. It’s simply about distinguishing right from wrong. I believe that if Prince Kromen is to walk a path different from the two princes, he ought to do what they would not.”

The boy was Tiren MacGovern.

Huh... As expected.

Gordon remembered seeing him in the palace corridors before.

“We must provide full compensation for the damage inflicted on the south. Conversely, we must also demand full compensation for the annihilation of the Ryeo Knights.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?” Gordon challenged.

“We do whatever it takes. If they want war, we’ll give them just that.”

Some people gasped at Tiren’s resolute demeanor, but Gordon merely laughed, shaking his shoulders.

“Hahaha...”

“...?”

Tiren frowned at Gordon’s unexpected reaction.

“You’re a shrewd one. You’ve thought of a grand plan, but it poses the risk of returning to the empire empty-handed, taking only the scraps the barbarians give us.”

Gordon Fabian snickered at Tiren’s proposal.

“You lack the backbone to be Kuwell’s son,” Gordon sneered. “I’d sooner believe that brat is his real son.”

“That... brat...?”

Tiren’s expression hardened.

“Yes, there’s a certain brat out there. I don’t know what he’s doing, but he’s probably up to something absurd,” Gordon explained as he pressed his temples with his fingers before waving dismissively with his other hand.

“Well, fine. I’ll go with your plan for now. I’ll give you command of the Guidance Mercenary Gang.”

“Wha...?!”

“...!!”

Everyone was shocked by Gordon’s words.

“What... me?”

Tiren himself was stunned.

“Yeah, since you seem like the sharpest one here.”

“Why...”

Tiren’s eyes flickered with uncertainty. He wasn’t sure what to say about this unexpected promotion. He knew well what the Guidance Mercenary Gang were capable of. Their current power was equivalent to two or three knight orders combined.

The airship gives us an advantage as well. Even with seventy thousand troops, we could defeat Prince Luon strategically.

Tiren’s mind was racing.

“What do you think? Doesn’t it sound fun?”

“Th-That’s...” Tiren hesitated.

If I actually had Gordon’s three thousand mercenaries at my disposal...

There were many things Tiren could do, or rather, there were many things he wanted to try. Ironically, for a prodigy like him, Gordon’s offer had unfolded a vast chessboard in his mind, with countless strategies swirling chaotically.

However...

It was common knowledge at the palace that Kuwell MacGovern supported Prince Olivurn. Remembering that, Tiren shook his head. If his ambitions strengthened Kromen, he could inadvertently harm his father.

That’s what the emperor wants. To make the third prince, the youngest and weakest one, a stumbling block for Luon and Olivurn so that they can’t ignore him.

As Tiren pondered, Gordon Fabian smirked.

“It’s too big of an undertaking for me,” Tiren eventually said with a sigh. He and Elliott had been chosen solely for Kromen's protection, expecting no significant role. And yet here he was, offered full authority over the Guidance Mercenary Gang.

I thought Gordon Fabian was a brute, but he’s cunning as a fox.

Tiren glanced at Gordon while chastising himself for getting overly excited.

“Don’t worry. I’ve thought about this carefully. You’re a disciple of the neutral Kadin Luer and one of Kuwell’s adopted sons. That’s why I made the decision.”

“Shouldn’t you avoid giving such responsibility to a MacGovern?” Tiren challenged.

Gordon chuckled as if he had expected that question.

“It’s quite the opposite. Because you’re his son, I trust you wouldn’t be petty enough to harm an innocent child.”

“...”

“Your father is a man who understands honor, perhaps to a frustrating degree. It may sound strange, but you’re the best person to protect the prince’s life.”

“But since you are here, why would you need me...”

Gordon pointed below the airship.

“I’m a mercenary. I do my job for pay. In the south, I can protect him even from a dragon.”

Coming from anyone else, that would sound like groundless boasting, but coming from Gordon, it seemed possible.

“But I can’t be a nanny once we return to the palace. That’s why you have to lead this southern expedition instead of me.”

“...”

Hearing that, Tiren lowered his head slightly, resignation visible on his expression.

“Do you trust me, Sir Gordon?”

“No. You’re just as sly as the nobles in the palace,” Gordon replied with a smirk.

“Then why...”

As Tiren’s face hardened, Gordon looked past him and replied, “I trust your father.”

***

“GHRAAAA!!”

Inside the large hall with thick iron bars, two beasts were entangled in a fight.

“Sir Greys, am I dreaming?”

Viola stared blankly, unable to believe what she saw.

“I wish that were the case”

Greys was equally stunned.

“Is that even possible?” Viola muttered in a low voice. “Is he even human?”

Her question became more fundamental. Though absurd, everyone had to agree as they looked at Karyl.

Of course...

Unlike Viola and Greys, who were overwhelmed, Beikan and Kinu watched with satisfied expressions.

To think I was worried about Master on the Rolling Hills... Beikan chuckled to himself.

From that grand hunt to the Abyssal Rock, both of them were used to Karyl’s incredible prowess.

Zzzt...Zzzt—!

Purple mana flickered through the chains as Karyl pulled them with all his mind.

Crack—!!

The thick chains tightened around Aeacus and Rhadamanthos’ necks, forcibly pulling their heads back.

"Crrkk...!!"

"Grrk...!!"

Then, the two monsters convulsed as if struck by lightning.

"Ghraaa!!"

They thrashed about, desperately trying to free themselves from the chains wrapped around their necks, but Karyl kept pulling harder and harder.

“No matter how many times I do it, this is the best way.”

Thud—

Eventually, the two beasts could no longer resist and fell to their knees, and Karyl stood between them, legs apart. It was clear this wasn’t his first time doing this.

What kind of hell has he been through...? And that unbelievable skill... Could he have reached the level of a Sword Master?

There he was, arrogantly looking down at the beasts with no fear whatsoever, as if he was above them. Greys, not yet a Sword Master, couldn’t even comprehend Karyl’s ridiculous swordsmanship.

“...”

The more Greys watched, the more curious he became about Karyl.

It’s not just once or twice.

Sensing Greys’ gaze, Karyl chuckled to himself, pretending to smile nonchalantly.

Pharel was essentially a continuous dungeon. Back then, as he ascended to higher floors, he would occasionally stumble upon monsters he had faced before, only stronger.

The dungeons manifesting on the continent were at the same rank as their first version in the Phrael Tower. The monsters in this S-rank dungeon were equivalent to those Karyl had faced on the 34th floor.

He recalled that after the 34th floor, the Minotaur’s dungeon had appeared again on the 238th, the 675th, and finally on the 978th floor, which was a maze.

Karyl MacGovern had placed a collar on every monster and beheaded the King of Monsters in the same manner every time.

Bang—!!

Stepping on Aeacus’ head, Karyl drove him to the ground.

“...”

Staring at the fallen monster, the others were speechless.

"Squee... Eee...!"

As Karyl tilted his head toward them, Rhadamanthos flinched and folded its wings.

Holding the beast’s chain like a horse’s reins, he addressed the group, “Everyone, mount up.”