Ch.168Arba (3)

“So you’re the one who killed Lord Ethan.”

Though Llewellyn wasn’t entirely confident in his deception skills… he at least thought tricking a single knight would be simple.

She might claim she wasn’t underestimating him, but that attitude itself was nothing short of underestimation.

Llewellyn, inwardly recognizing his mistake, quietly retreated within himself.

His gaze sharpened, and his fists loosened. Though unclenched fists should have seemed less threatening…

From Arba’s perspective, standing before him, the sudden surge of killing intent made her spine tingle.

The feeling of hair standing on end. The sensation of facing something overwhelming.

This was why homunculi couldn’t live among humans, why they always stood out no matter what.

They were crafted differently as living beings, truly “material” that transcended humanity.

Divine material. Overlaid with the presence of a dragon. With his chosen martial arts in hand, Arba was reminded of the Dragon King despite having no concrete evidence.

And she understood. Lord Ethan couldn’t possibly have been defeated by some nobody. Arba exhaled what sounded like a sigh and walked forward.

Her loosely held axe, or more precisely its handle, dragged along the ground.

The image evoked a defeated soldier trudging home. That was indeed what they were.

They were defeated soldiers. Losers who had fled the continent after failing in their rebellion, following a “generous offer.”

Knowing this all too well, Arba spoke with a troubled expression.

“I don’t blame you. Since our defeat, we’ve all been… people who could die at any moment without it being strange.”

She meant it. Arba walked with a bitter smile, and when no response came, she unconsciously turned her head.

‘Is he suffering?’

She was startled by the expression on Llewellyn’s face.

Llewellyn was indeed suffering. Guilt and regret were enveloping him.

Though he was a man who had once declared he would never regret anything, now he was fiercely regretting.

Even if he could go back, he would certainly do the same thing.

There had been no other way to win.

Ethan had been hostile toward Llewellyn as well, and even if he had taken down Lorian first, there would have been no room for negotiation.

The fact that Llewellyn had casually thought to use people, and that such a decision had worked effectively.

And the fact that Lorian was a strong opponent he could fight without hesitation.

These had simply created an unintended synergy.

So Ethan had only two choices there.

Either kill everyone and weep over the graves of his subordinates.

Or die there himself.

Remembering this, Llewellyn unconsciously mourned. His mood sank gloomily, but he didn’t try to escape it.

Everyone around could see this expression and demeanor, and Arba slowly withdrew her gaze from Llewellyn.

Silence was sometimes affirmation. Arba saw Jekmyeol, walking beside Llewellyn, caress his cheek with a concerned expression.

A gentle gesture she hadn’t expected from Jekmyeol. For some unknown reason, she flinched immediately afterward and hastily withdrew her hand, but Arba had more than enough information to make a judgment.

She smiled dejectedly.

“At least… I’m glad Lord Ethan wasn’t defeated by just anyone. Lord Ethan’s death is certainly, certainly sad and regrettable, but we’ve mourned enough.”

This time, Llewellyn raised his head to look at Arba.

The Lioness, imposing in her plate armor, was about Llewellyn’s height.

She walked with dignity as she spoke.

“I didn’t know Jekmyeol Lucilla had family. If you’re Lucilla’s blood relative, I suppose it couldn’t be helped.”

She paused mid-sentence, her gaze flicking around. That gaze passed over a small girl whose presence was puzzling before settling on Lucilla.

“You don’t seem to have come to finish us off either.”

As soon as Lucilla realized she was being addressed, her expression changed dramatically. While she had been looking at her blood relative with sweetness dripping like honey…

Now she was utterly cold. There was even a faint killing intent that sent a tingling sensation across the skin.

If Llewellyn heard this, he would have joked that there was no such thing as killing intent, but here, it was very real.

Whether in martial arts or magic, once one reached a certain level, manipulating magical power became no different from controlling one’s own body, so one’s will itself affected magical power.

In a way, it was also the influence of unique skills. Implementation was interference with the world, and being able to interfere with the world meant that even ordinary strong emotions could affect the world.

Killing intent was killing will transmitted through magical power. Feeling the coolness touching her skin, Arba continued.

“What brings you here?”

Arba knew almost instinctively that Llewellyn had no “malice.”

But what about Jekmyeol?

Jekmyeol Lucilla was a being that couldn’t be described in such terms.

The biggest problem was that there seemed to be no logic to her actions.

From Lucilla’s perspective, she was probably striving for the “best outcome” as in a game, but from an outsider’s viewpoint, nothing could be more confusing.

She wasn’t good. She occasionally committed evil acts, and though the results were supposedly good, it happened so frequently that some suspected she might be evil.

Yet it wasn’t clear if she was evil either. All her actions inevitably led to the best outcomes, and her usual conduct was close to good.

But that was the thinking of someone who hadn’t witnessed the “Death of Stars” firsthand.

Arba knew. Lucilla was certainly not a good person.

One’s ideals contain what one considers the “ideal environment.”

What kind of being would envision such a hellscape as their ideal environment?

Arba feared Lucilla and still classified her behavior as close to evil.

She had implicitly considered Lucilla the leader.

But seeing Lucilla’s expression change, she sensed something was different.

Lucilla’s eyes rolled. The magical eyes that had burned countless enemies turned toward her blood relative, and Llewellyn scratched the back of his neck.

“I came to hire mercenaries, but…”

It was clear that this purpose had already been thwarted.

As they passed by with Arba, countless mercenaries were whispering about Lucilla and leaving.

Only then did Llewellyn realize.

He had brought the wrong person.

*

Llewellyn doesn’t know about Lucilla’s infamy.

When he opened his eyes, he was in the fortress of the Three Clans, and after jumping to his death, he was in the New Continent.

There was no time to figure out how things worked in the Old Continent.

He even found out that Lucilla was his sister later. After that…

‘Was I super busy?’

No, was it leisurely?

Llewellyn couldn’t remember which it was. His memory wasn’t particularly excellent.

He sometimes forgot what he had for breakfast, so how could he remember?

So Llewellyn stopped trying to recall useless memories and looked around from where he sat.

It was an office.

It wasn’t even as good as the lodgings he had used in Servan, let alone a nest. Even considering it was an office.

Ortemilia had said that the city of Arba wasn’t particularly wealthy, and this was the moment that confirmed her words.

“I have much to say, but first, let’s discuss what needs to be done.”

The owner of this office sat facing Llewellyn, Lucilla, and Ortemilia.

The Lioness Arba. From what he’d heard, she was Ethan’s right hand and a knight from a family that had persistently courted him before joining the rebellion.

After the rebellion failed, she had fled to the New Continent, established the city of Arba, and was holding out.

This Arba rested her chin on her hand and stared at Llewellyn.

He was a “youngster” trying his best to maintain a dignified expression despite his blood relative Lucilla unconsciously holding and fidgeting with his hand beside him.

“You said you wanted mercenaries. For what purpose, how many, and for how long do you wish to hire them?”

After a moment’s consideration, Llewellyn replied.

“There’s a settlement not far from here. It’s a special place that was recently attacked by the Empire.”

She brought up a matter she had already been investigating. Arba watched Llewellyn while hiding her thoughts, and also saw “Jekmyeol” startle and withdraw her hand in a way she hadn’t expected.

It was an awkward sight for Arba, who had seen Jekmyeol on the battlefield.

She was unconsciously treating her brother like a child and seemed at a loss, but Arba couldn’t understand what kind of farce this was.

So she ignored it and looked at Llewellyn.

“Until now, we’ve relied on good concealment abilities and haven’t been caught, but after this attack, we realized we can’t depend on that alone. That’s why we need guards.”

“…Guards. It will be a long-term assignment.”

She thought she could find mercenaries if she added a bonus for defeating enemies. Arba was about to speak when—

“Then I’ll find some bold fellows who aren’t concerned about Jekmyeol’s infamy.”

“Not enough.”

“What?”

She frowned at Llewellyn’s response.

Llewellyn was frowning as well.

He believed he shouldn’t just accept what others offered him.

He felt he needed to do something himself.

“I don’t know yet how many I’ll bring…”

“No matter how many you bring, no matter how many you’re thinking of. It’s not enough.”

It might have sounded like he was picking a fight, but he wasn’t. Arba kept her frown as she took in Llewellyn, and Llewellyn glared back with firm resolve.

“I want this entire city.”

There was no answer. There wasn’t even a reaction. Arba froze with her eyes wide open, and looking at her, Llewellyn was reminded of Ethan.

More precisely, of the Star Blade that Ethan had left behind.

He had used it well. The Star Blade had endured the reckless battles Llewellyn had fought and served him faithfully.

Considering that the Star Blade bound Ethan’s soul, it was truly something to be grateful for.

The power residing in Ethan’s soul had been supporting Llewellyn.

So now it was Llewellyn’s turn to repay.

“I heard from my companions on the way here. The city is difficult to operate and manage. You’re facing various problems.”

Just as Arba’s silence had been affirmation to Llewellyn, he made his proposal to her.

“Come under me.”

“…What do you mean?”

Llewellyn doesn’t have many talents. But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t envision the future.

Something was faintly emerging in his mind.

A city rising toward the Temple of Ten Thousand Gods, nestled among mountains.

Something that had only faintly existed in this New Continent.

“I intend to establish a civilization in this New Continent that won’t yield to the Empire.”

Still, no answer came.

But seeing Arba’s confused and bewildered face, specifically the way she glanced at Lucilla, Llewellyn was certain.

“…I’ll need to think about it.”

Indeed, he was glad he had brought his sister.