Ch.782Make a Bet With Me

Looking down at Demian who sat down with a sigh, I stepped on the cigarette butt that was almost finished and spoke to him again.

“What are you thinking right now? I won’t get angry, so be honest.”

“Umm…”

“Speak up, kid.”

As I clicked my tongue and urged him, Demian, who had been contemplating for a moment, reluctantly opened his mouth.

“…I thought I could relax now that I don’t have to worry about getting hit by your fist anymore.”

“Hmm… Is that all? How’s your body feeling?”

“My body…? Well, it feels kind of limp like I’m exhausted… and the warmth of the campfire suddenly feels more vivid…”

“Really? Seems like you can feel some relief.”

Relief from escaping immediate danger. Whether it should be called an emotion or a sensation, I wasn’t sure, but anyway, Demian seemed relieved thinking I had put aside my anger.

—-

After brewing a cup of tea for Demian, who kept massaging his shoulder as if it was stiff from being hit, I sipped tea with him and explained the more detailed exploration plan.

Until now, I had just dragged him along somewhat forcefully, but since we were about to start searching for the holy sword in earnest, I thought I should explain the situation to him in detail.

“Where should I start explaining… First, what we’re looking for is a sword.”

“A sword? You need more swords?”

Demian asked, tilting his head in confusion.

With Durandal, three Red Scale Swords, and the Red Scale Blade I lent to Jahan. His face seemed to ask why I would need another sword when I already had five peerless blades.

“No, wasn’t Durandal the family heirloom of your Haschal family in the first place?”

“When did I ever say I was looking for the ‘Median’ family heirloom?”

I replied with a smirk.

True, I did say something similar. To prevent unnecessary attention in advance.

There are no eternal secrets, and the fact that Demian obtained a holy sword will eventually be revealed. However, I wanted to keep the fact that the holy sword had appeared in the world a secret, at least for the time being.

Considering Carlos the Great’s reputation that has been passed down for eight hundred years, the moment the identity of the holy sword is revealed, the whole world will show fierce interest in the news. Including those unwelcome fellows.

…Of course, I should tell Demian in advance what he’s going to possess, since he’ll be the owner of the sword.

“The sword I’m looking for isn’t the Median family heirloom. That’s hanging at my waist, so there’s no need to look for it. The name of the sword we need to find is…”

“…The name is?”

“Joyeuse.”

“Joyeuse…?”

“Yes, you must have heard of it too, Demian? At least the name of the holy sword that Elpinel himself forged and bestowed upon Carlos the Great. We’re going to search this mountain range thoroughly to find Joyeuse.”

There’s a real name for it, but that’s something he doesn’t need to know just yet.

“Carlos the Great’s holy sword… I heard Elpinel took it back…”

“That’s obviously a lie. It’s not something that should be known.”

If the whereabouts of Joyeuse had been revealed to the world, all sorts of riffraff would have been scouring the Heaven’s Wall looking for the sword in hopes of turning their lives around.

Not just humans, but other races would have coveted that sword too.

That’s why Carlos and the Great’s Twelve Knights concealed the truth about the sword’s whereabouts and left behind the false legend that Elpinel had taken it back.

“Joyeuse is somewhere here in Heaven’s Wall. I don’t know the exact location either, but if they say it’s here, then it must be.”

I shrugged and shared in detail the story that Rotholandus’s ghost had told me.

The truth that Carlos and the Great’s Twelve Knights tried to forcibly weaken this world by creating Heaven’s Wall, but failed due to interference from the easterners, and then dropped the sword somewhere here while fighting them…

…And the conjecture that the apostles of the ancient gods, including Feyrus, were secretly working to destroy Heaven’s Wall.

“—That’s what happened.”

The story ended just as the tea in our cups was showing the bottom.

“I see. So that’s what happened… Then, Haschal, you…”

Demian nodded with a face that seemed to understand everything, and looking straight at me, he asked.

“Are you planning to kill Emperor Leopold and take over the Empire?”

I spat the tea I was drinking right in Demian’s face. I swear it wasn’t intentional.

Really.

—-

After coughing for a while from choking, I finally calmed down and glared at Demian, demanding to know why such crazy nonsense came out of his mouth.

“It’s the Emperor’s sword, right? For someone who’s about to become queen to secretly take possession of such a sword behind the current Emperor’s back, isn’t that like preparing grounds for rebellion?”

Demian asked back as if it was obvious.

“No, what do you take me for to say such…”

I could only laugh bitterly at the absurdity. I was trying to find the sword as secretly as possible to prevent such rumors, but he thought it was groundwork for backstabbing Leopold. I felt wronged.

Logically, I’m not some thief with three surnames to suddenly break the back of Leopold with whom I’m cooperating well.

And for what? For the imperial throne itself, which is nothing but taking all the blame.

Only ignorant fools covet and envy the imperial throne; those who have observed the person sitting on it would refuse it even if offered, saying they wouldn’t take it.

The imperial throne is not a symbol of wealth and power, but a prison from which there is no escape.

Leopold, who once boasted luscious blonde hair, became as bald as a fish in just one year, and you’re asking if I want to sit in that seat?

Am I crazy? If I did that, even I would become a hairless Haschal within a year.

The imperial throne had to continue to be occupied by Leopold. At least for the next seventy years or so.

After that, well, Leopold’s child would take care of it. A child inheriting Leopold and Adelheid’s character and abilities would surely grow into a talent worthy of being the Emperor of the Empire.

“The reason I’m looking for the holy sword is purely because of its performance. Not for some useless symbolism that would only cause discord.”

“Hmm… if you say so, Haschal, then I guess that’s how it is.”

Demian tore a piece of his clothes to wipe the tea that had splashed on his face and nodded in understanding.

“Besides, I’m not the one who’s going to have it. Durandal is enough for me. The person who will become the owner of Joyeuse is not me, but you, Demian.”

“Me…?”

“Yes. That Jin greatsword isn’t a bad weapon, but it doesn’t look right for the strongest of the Thousand Sword Corps to wield an ordinary Jin sword. Don’t you agree?”

“You want me to use Carlos the Great’s sword…?”

Demian looked at me as if that didn’t make sense.

“Yes. I told you earlier. The world is becoming increasingly dangerous.”

Thanks to my activities, things might be peaceful for a while… but that won’t last long either.

Once they replenish their lost forces, they’ll come after me with burning eyes, determined to kill me.

“The cultists are desperate to break Heaven’s Wall, monsters are getting stronger, now even half-baked dragons have appeared, and even the fairies have started openly targeting us.”

“Uh… that’s right?”

“Yes. In a world like this, if you want to live long, shouldn’t you become stronger than you are now? At least to my level. Or even surpass me.”

“……”

[Ha, what nonsense. As if this youngster could surpass us. How could that be possible?]

Even though Demian hadn’t answered yet, Hersella, who had been quietly listening, suddenly laughed mockingly.

‘Well, we’ll have to wait and see about that.’

At least in the original story, he does become stronger than I am now. Though it takes quite a while.

[Do you need to check if it’s a dog or a wolf? The answer is obvious at a glance.]

Of course, Hersella just scoffed at my answer, finding it ridiculous.

Well, from her perspective, it must sound absurd. There’s such a huge gap between me and Demian.

It’s not that Demian is incompetent. No, rather, Demian is becoming stronger at a rate incomparably faster than in the original story.

The Demian of the original story would have needed at least 4 years to reach the same level as the current Demian.

It’s just that my and Hersella’s growth rates were at an insane level that surpassed even that.

—-

In my memory, Hersella appears as the main boss of an episode about 4-5 years from now, at a point when the maximum level is capped at 80.

And the current me has probably reached exactly that level. Considering that no more karma is accumulating.

So, if the current me were to fight against Hersella from the original story, I would be the victor.

Our levels would be the same, but my total power would be close to twice hers, and I also have Durandal, the Winter Armor, the rune engravings, and even Rotholandus’s blessing.

In other words, I had surpassed the achievement that Hersella accomplished over 6 years in the original story in just a year and a half.

…Which also means that Heaven’s Wall is crumbling at a rate four times faster than in the original story.

Anyway, while my growth has stopped, if Demian could make his best effort to catch up with me, he might someday become stronger than me.

In fact, I was hoping he would. The stronger he gets, the easier things become for me.

The problem is…

“Umm… becoming stronger than you, Haschal… that seems… impossible, don’t you think?”

The fact that Demian himself doesn’t even dream of surpassing me. Judging by his deflated response that it’s impossible, rather than saying he’ll try.

…That’s problematic.

“What kind of weak talk is that from a man? Shouldn’t you be boldly declaring that you’ll definitely surpass me here?”

“No, but… it’s unrealistic, isn’t it? I wouldn’t even be able to keep up with your pace.”

…This is serious.

Did I beat him too much…?

I scratched my ear in embarrassment and sighed.

To become stronger, one needs desperate motivation and strong belief.

Even with the fierce determination to definitely beat me, it’s uncertain whether that would be achieved, but if he gives up thinking he can’t win at all, then becoming stronger than me is out of the question.

I couldn’t leave it like that.

Then…

Should I give him some motivation not to give up?

Yes, that’s it.

“…Then how about this.”

After thinking for a moment about what to say to Demian, I came up with the most standard proposal for motivation.

“If you win against me in a full-power duel, I’ll grant you one wish as a reward. Of course, limited to wishes that I can fulfill.”

Traditionally, offering a one-time wish is the best method for motivation. It was a truth taught by a former subordinate who said he used to tutor students in his country before enlisting.

Apparently, he was able to get numerous students into prestigious universities with that method.

“What…?”

Sure enough, even Demian couldn’t ignore the temptation of the absolute power of a wish, and his face showed great interest.

“It’s only once, but whatever wish you have, as long as it’s possible for me, it doesn’t matter. How about it, doesn’t that tempt you?”

I grinned and provoked Demian.

The wish this guy would make to me is obvious. Wouldn’t it be something like wanting to beat me up to his heart’s content?

If just promising that could make him stronger than me, and thus make things easier for me… taking a beating once wouldn’t be difficult at all.

It was a proposal where I had nothing to lose.

[Crazy… woman…]

For some reason, Hersella was utterly shocked.