I’m Here to End This Fight

Chapter 189. The Demon King’s Castle (2)

The Sword Master posed a question, spoken in a low tone.

If it had been anyone else, they would have immediately bowed their head and answered, but Gordon was different.

He slowly moved the teacup away from his lips with both hands before responding.

“I wondered why you contacted me first, and it was because of that?”

A voice tinged with a faint smile.

Gordon’s attitude toward the Sword Master was surprisingly composed.

Although he was kneeling, there was not a trace of stiffness in his demeanor.

He showed respect and courtesy, yet his presence conveyed an atmosphere that stepped outside the typical hierarchical relationship between a master and his subordinate.

Whether in public or private settings, Gordon was likely the only person in the Cradle who could converse with the Sword Master in such a manner.

This was possible because he had served the Sword Master for over forty years.

Of course, it wasn’t just the long years spent together that enabled this.

There were others besides Gordon who had also spent significant time by the Sword Master’s side.

But sitting face-to-face with the Sword Master and having tea?

For them, it was an unthinkable notion.

The reason for this difference was simple.

Gordon was a ‘strongman recognized by the Sword Master.’

He was someone who had earned his qualification from the Sword Master, allowing him to share such moments.

Sipping the tea briefly, Gordon savored its aroma before speaking.

“As you’ve been informed, your youngest son was defeated in the latest quest.”

“You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

Gordon responded to the Sword Master’s remark with a faint smile.

“Isn’t it interesting? For the next few years, I also had no objections to the Cradle being the world of your youngest son. But for the situation to suddenly change like this…”

“There’s no need to beat around the bush. It’s amusing that my son lost to Johan’s disciple, isn’t it?”

“You flatter me; I don’t know what to say.”

“You sly man. I am aware you secretly supported that boy.”

At the Sword Master’s mention of how Gordon had used his authority to elevate the grade of the elixir Yuri would consume, Gordon’s expression tightened slightly.

“…You knew?”

Even as he asked, Gordon understood well that his question was pointless.

There was nothing the Sword Master, the master of the Cradle, wouldn’t know.

So, Gordon relaxed his expression and answered.

“He is a boy I have been silently cheering for.”

“Yes, I remember how close you and Johan were.”

“…That’s all in the past now.”

Gordon’s smile turned slightly bitter.

“By the way, how is the investigation on that boy progressing?”

Though the question was sudden, Gordon instantly grasped what the Sword Master sought and answered promptly.

“If it’s related to the Wolga (월家)… there haven’t been any specific reports yet.”

“I see.”

The Sword Master, with a blank expression, took another brief sip of his tea.

His profound eyes didn’t easily reveal his thoughts.

‘Though I have served him for over forty years, I still don’t understand this man.’

Sword Master Luke Ryder.

The world viewed him as an absolute being or a manifestation of destruction, but Gordon, who had watched him closely for many years, knew all too well that there was more to him.

At times, the Sword Master could be as calm as still waters, while at other times, he could become a fire that obliterates everything.

He could exhibit boundless mercy that embraced all, yet also appear as a ferocious demon.

An unpredictable, elusive person.

But one who harbored a pure yearning for ‘strength’ above all else.

And thus, an even more fearsome presence.

This was Gordon’s reflection on the Sword Master, distilled over decades of dedicated service.

As Gordon retraced the past decades, the Sword Master tossed a thin booklet to him.

Gordon looked at the booklet that had landed on the table with curiosity.

“What is this?”

“It’s an annotated version of my insights on Black Blood, simplified to a level Gunther can grasp. Deliver it to him.”

Gordon’s eyes widened slightly at the words.

The Ryder bloodline.

All of the Sword Master’s children had passed through the Cradle.

Yet, the Sword Master had never shown any special treatment to any of them.

Rewards were distributed in line with the principles of the Cradle.

Never had he personally handed down his insights like this.

But the unusual event didn’t stop there.

“To the winner of the upcoming Dragonless Tournament, I will grant access to the Black Dragon Storehouse.”

“……?!”

Gordon’s eyes widened in shock.

Such was his surprise that he even repeated himself, something uncharacteristic of him.

“Truly… the Black Dragon Storehouse?”

The Sword Master did not reply to Gordon’s question.

He simply brought the teacup to his lips with a calm expression.

Seeing this, Gordon inwardly clicked his tongue.

‘Allowing access to the Black Dragon Storehouse…’

The Black Dragon Storehouse.

It was the highest security vault among the various storerooms within the Cradle.

It held the Sword Master’s personal collection, making it the most treasured vault of the Cradle.

And in the Cradle’s fifty-year history, there had been instances when the Black Dragon Storehouse was opened for other reasons, but never once had it been opened as a reward for a quest.

‘Just what are you thinking?’

The Black Dragon Storehouse opened to the tournament winner.

Was this a sign of the Sword Master’s affection, assuming his youngest son would inevitably be the victor?

Or was it a challenge thrown at Yuri to defeat Gunther once more if he wished to claim the reward?

‘Whatever the case may be… this Dragonless Tournament will be quite a spectacle.’

A smile of deep anticipation spread across Gordon’s lips.

At the end of October, when the sweltering heat had faded and the cool breeze began to blow.

“…It’s magnificent.”

“It’s grand.”

“I’m hungry!”

“It’s amazing.”

Standing in a row, Theresia, Arin, Poppy, and Gunther each muttered their thoughts one by one.

What their gazes rested upon was the fruit of their blood and sweat over the past six months.

A rectangular outer wall and a triangular roof.

Four turrets, one at each corner.

To top it all off, sharp wooden spikes densely lined the roof and outer walls to ward off any invaders.

At a glance, it looked like an ugly, boxy chestnut shell, but to the four of them, it was a cherished and splendid sanctuary.

How could it not be?

Time when they were exploited for labor without even using their precious leave permits due to forging the wrong connections.

During that time, they were forced to pour their effort into it.

The nostalgia of those moments was so vivid that tears nearly welled up in their eyes.

“Now… it’s really over, right? For real?”

“They said we only had to build the exterior. The interior is on them. If they make us do more… I’m really going to strike!”

“I’m hungry!”

Gunther expressed distrust, while Arin clenched her fists tightly.

Poppy, puffing out a strong snort as if to signal his intent to join the strike, was visibly excited at the thought that maybe, just maybe, they could finally use the leave permits everyone else had already spent.

At that moment.

“Idiots.”

A calm voice echoed.

As the three turned their heads naturally, they saw Theresia wearing a self-mocking smile.

“It’s already too late. Don’t you still get it? We can never escape from him?”

“…Theresia, senior?”

Gunther looked at her with a puzzled expression, and Theresia responded with a resigned face.

“Can you even imagine?”

“Pardon?”

“Us living without Yuri’s cooking.”

“…….”

“I… I can’t imagine it at all. Maybe I’ve already become someone who can’t live without that guy. Ah… Yes, I’m definitely like a pig that’s been tamed!”

“……?!”

Upon Theresia’s realization of reality and self-reflection, the three members of the 50th class imagined it.

Could they give up Yuri’s cooking and go back to surviving on simple rations?

But it was something they simply couldn’t picture.

And so, the three of them shuddered simultaneously.

‘Oh, dear god! It’s true!’

‘I… I’ve been completely domesticated?!’

‘I’m hungry!’

They had realized only after several months that they were like tamed pigs or slaves, but by then, it was already too late to turn back.

Theresia, who had realized this sooner than anyone else, wore a slightly cynical expression.

“I’d rather be a full slave than a hungry free person. I’m just going to do whatever Yuri asks and enjoy the food he gives us.”

Quick assessment of the situation and a swift surrender.

Arin, shocked by this, grabbed Theresia by the shoulders and shook her.

“Te-Tesha, senior! Don’t give up! Return to the confident and proud person you once were!”

“…It’s too late. I don’t even remember what I was like back then…”

“No, this can’t be happening!”

Arin wailed as she shook Theresia.

Wobble, wobble—.

Theresia’s head, resigned and enlightened, swung limply back and forth.

And just then.

Bang!

A sudden explosion echoed, causing all four of them to freeze simultaneously.

They turned their heads towards the source of the noise and muttered in unison.

“Again?”

Inside, smoke drifted gently into the air.

Cough, cough—.

Cough, cough—.

Two distinct coughing sounds filled the room.

A thick hand suddenly smacked the back of a black-haired head.

Thwack-!

“Hey, you little punk! I told you to use that sparingly!”

The head that had been bowed forward jerked up as a voice filled with irritation burst forth.

“Ah, damn it! Then how much is ‘sparingly,’ exactly?!”

In response to Yuri’s protest, Segyung snorted, crossing his arms.

“Can’t you tell just by looking? As soon as you see it, you should immediately know—this much will do.”

“No, I don’t get it.”

“Idiot.”

“Agh, so just tell me how much it is!”

“It’s roughly this much!”

Seeing Segyung pinch a small amount of white powder between his fingers, Yuri pouted his lips.

“Ugh… so annoying. This is why geniuses are the worst.”

Surely alchemy should be about precise measurements and exact values, shouldn’t it?

But this old geezer did everything by eye, just roughly judging things by sight and feel.

‘What’s even more annoying is that his eyeballed and roughly measured work is more accurate than my meticulously weighed measurements.’

Grumbling, Yuri measured the ‘this much!’ Segyung had shown using a scale and recorded it.

Then he continued to mix various powders in a bowl.

Finally, he completed a result.

“Done! Please check!”

Segyung scrutinized the colorful powder Yuri presented and cast him a disdainful look.

“What is this garbage?”

“Garbage? I made it exactly as you showed me!”

“I never taught you how to make trash like this.”

“What are you talking about? I followed your instructions exactly! Did you teach me wrong?”

Yuri yelled in frustration, holding up the measurement notes he had taken.

“Tsk. Let me see.”

Clicking his tongue, Segyung snatched the notes and demonstrated himself.

Swipe, swipe—.

Using a small measuring spoon, Segyung precisely scooped various powders onto the scale, showing Yuri exactly how it’s done.

The astonishing thing was that even with just one scoop onto the scale, there was no need to add or subtract anything; the measurements were spot-on.

Thanks to this, the manufacturing process was incredibly fast, and soon enough, a perfectly red-tinted powder appeared in the bowl.

Yuri’s pupils trembled violently upon seeing this.

“Huh… this, this shouldn’t be happening, right?”

It was utterly baffling and unbelievable.

The measurements and proportions Segyung used were identical to what was recorded on the notes.

In other words, the same as Yuri’s.

But why was the outcome so different?

Completely perplexed, Yuri immediately became suspicious.

“Admit it, old man… You secretly added something else, didn’t you?”

“What are you talking about? It’s just that you’ve got lousy hands.”

“Lousy hands?”

Yuri, who had always prided himself on his dexterity, was hearing such a term for the first time.

Segyung clicked his tongue at the stunned Yuri.

“Tsk, tsk. Just like cooking has a unique touch, alchemy also depends on the feel of the hands.”

Segyung said this with a mocking smile aimed at Yuri.

“What, are you going to knock alchemy out of the park like you did with metallurgy?”

“…….”

“Pfft! Is there any nonsense quite like this?”

“…….”

“Well, it makes sense that if one is granted a talent, another is taken away. Yes, that’s true justice! Justice is alive! Pfft.”

Even after hearing the ridicule, Yuri didn’t particularly retort.

Because what he said was true.

Having fully stripped Segyung’s secrets within about a month of seriously learning metallurgy, Yuri was brimming with confidence.

He intended to do the same with Segyung’s alchemy.

But what a surprise.

Whether it was cooking, sculpture, or any form of art, or various crafts including metallurgy—whatever involved using his hands, Yuri had always shown remarkable talent.

But when it came to alchemy, his abilities were shockingly average.

Given the circumstances, Segyung, who had been bested in metallurgy, was the one excitedly chattering away.

“Back in my day, I could do such combinations with my eyes closed at your age!”

“…Of course, you could.”

“Why don’t you just give it up? You’re not cut out for this at all.”

“Old geezer, I think I kind of understand you a little now.”

“Understand what?”

“Why you clung so stubbornly to metallurgy even when it wasn’t working.”

“…….”

“Damn it, this really gets to me. I’m going to stick with alchemy until I get it right!”

Hearing Yuri’s firm determination, Segyung nodded slightly as if saying, ‘Yeah, I know that feeling well,’ then suddenly snapped back to his senses and shouted.

“W-What nonsense! I am a genius capable of mastering both alchemy and metallurgy, which is why I never let go of metallurgy! Didn’t Johan tell you? I was once touted as the next Master!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard. So, how did such a promising genius end up an outcast?”

Yuri casually tossed out the question, and Segyung’s expression turned sullen.