Return of The Martial King

[ Chapter 20 ]

Stefan’s decision to follow Repenhardt was not born out of noble reasons, such as wanting to assist in scouting because it could be dangerous to do so alone, or because, as someone in charge of others, he felt the need to lead by example into perilous situations.

“I can’t admit to having been helped by a barbarian!”

No matter how coincidental it might have been, the fact that he had received help from someone of ignoble blood was undeniable.

If things were to pass without incident, that barbarian would believe he had genuinely offered aid to a knight. This very idea, starting from the presumption to scout alone, proved how little he thought of knights.

Stefan was already irked by how presumptuous humans had become. However, as a knight of principle, dealing with the barbarian’s insolence directly was unbecoming of his station. That’s why he had followed. He intended to save the barbarian from a demon, teaching him his place.

Holding a sword (he had brought a spare sword prepared by Sir Edward), Stefan repeatedly muttered to himself.

“Come on, any demon will do. I’ll dispatch it swiftly.”

Of course, Repenhardt had no idea of Stefan’s thoughts, nor did he care to know. He was simply following his old memories, diligently searching for profitable hidden pathways.

Moving cautiously with a torch through the dark passageway, Repenhardt’s expression suddenly brightened.

“Ah! There it is!”

He spotted a partially collapsed chamber on the left side of the passageway, and from within, monsters were slowly emerging. Stefan lit up, readying his stance for combat.

“Here they come!”

“I’ll show them the splendid swordsmanship of the Altion family!” Stefan was about to leap into action when suddenly…

Thud!

A strong blow to the back of his neck clouded his consciousness.

“What, what’s this?”

“Just sleep for a bit.”

With a simple strike to the neck, Repenhardt had knocked out this troublesome burden. He then swiftly dealt with the attacking monsters. The fight was so trivial it barely warranted description. He simply dispatched them and leapt into the room.

The chamber was half-destroyed, with what appeared to be metal wardrobes, likely used as a storage area in ancient times, placed around. It was significantly larger, perhaps ten times the size of their base camp’s chamber.

He first began to open boxes piled up next to the door. Although many items had deteriorated over the ages, some still shone brightly.

“Good, good. 50 Silver age coins…….”

The Silver Age coins, being of high purity and archaeological value, were traded at five to six times the price of current age coins. After swiftly collecting them, Repenhardt proceeded to open the drawers of a metal table, one by one.

“It should be here somewhere…”

After a moment, his face lit up with excitement.

“Found it! The Infinite Bag.”

Holding a backpack the size of a child’s head, Repenhardt couldn’t help but beam with joy.

Among the artifacts of the Silver Age, the Infinite Bag was particularly valuable. It wasn’t truly infinite, but it contained a spatial distortion that allowed it to hold up to ten times the volume of its physical size. The weight of the contents would also decrease to one-tenth, making this magical item something current era’s magic couldn’t replicate.

In the present age, magic couldn’t touch the domains solely reserved for gods: direct manipulation of time, space, and matter.

Back in the Silver Age, it was common to reverse time, transcend space, and transform matter itself into new forms with incredible magic. But with the current continent’s magic capped at the 9th circle, such feats were impossible. Only Repenhardt, who had reached the pinnacle of the 10th circle in his prime, managed to recreate a semblance of the Infinite Bag after years of research, doubling its volume through partial spatial distortion.

“Heh, wasn’t there another one here?”

Continuing his search, Repenhardt found another backpack. The Infinite Bag, while a remarkable magical device, wasn’t unique enough to be considered an artifact; it was common to find one or two in a decent dungeon. In the Silver Age, they were standard issue for all soldiers.

Repenhardt strapped the Infinite Bag to his waistband and wrapped a cloth he found rolling nearby around his waist to conceal the backpack. It was crucial not to reveal that he was secretly collecting artifacts. The backpack, as small as a child’s head, was well-concealed by his hand, which was larger. Wrapped in cloth, it was indistinguishable, especially since his trousers were already torn from combat, making the cloth-wrapped waist not seem out of place.

After preparing, he resumed his thorough search of the chamber. Knowing exactly where to look, his search was incredibly fast.

“The Heavenly Brazier, the Dagger of Retrieval, the Marsa Fire… hehe, all these valuable items.”

He continued to stash away Silver Age artifacts into the backpack at his waist. Though it seemed only suitable for small trinkets, in reality, it could hold much more than even a sizable backpack, swallowing item after item.

Thus, Repenhardt diligently collected the artifacts. The items in this room alone, if sold, could fetch enough gold to buy several Elf slaves, but…

“I should get something nice for Siris. Something good to eat and pretty to wear. Let’s gather a bit more.”

As he was about to leave the chamber for the next location, Stefan groaned back to consciousness.

“What happened?”

Repenhardt nonchalantly pointed to the ground, to where the remains of demons, now separated from their flesh and bones, were soaked in their own remains.

“These things hit you on the back of your head. You were knocked out in one blow.”

“Ugh…”

Stefan groaned. The demons had sneakily attacked him from behind! He could hardly contain his frustration. Once again, he had been helped by a barbarian. His chest boiled with shame.

“Damn, why does everything have to go wrong today?”

Seeing how easily the young traveler had dealt with them, Stefan assumed they were low-level demons, completely disregarding the fact that such a demon had knocked him out with a single blow. He simply blamed his own carelessness. The suspicion that the barbarian might have been the one to knock him out did not even cross his mind.

Repenhardt started to lead the way through the passage, with Stefan grinding his teeth and sporadically saying,

“Th-thanks for the help.”

One must always uphold one’s duties, no matter the situation; that was the chivalry Stefan had learned. After quickly expressing his thanks, Stefan took the lead in the passage. Again, monsters appeared. His eyes ignited with fire. This time, he would defeat them and show the true power of a knight!

“Oh, it’s nothing really…”

Looking back and forth between Stefan charging ahead and the newly appeared demons, Repenhardt scratched his head. It felt awkward to receive thanks for beating him up, especially since…

“I might have to knock him out again.”

Thump!

“Kueek!”

Once again, Stefan was knocked unconscious. Behind the appearing demon was a new chamber, Repenhardt’s next destination. Naturally, he had to block the view and gather the items without interference!

Well, constantly giving him concussions might leave some lasting damage on the spinal nerves…

“He’s a tough one; he’ll probably be fine.”

Thus, Repenhardt thoroughly scoured the second underground floor for valuable items, during which Stefan had to endure being knocked out three more times.

Despite having been knocked out repeatedly, the young knight, living in his own world, thought nothing more than, “Strange, I wasn’t off guard. Why couldn’t I sense anything? Maybe my body has weakened lately. I should take some tonic when I get back.”

Halfway through the second floor, the backpack was full. Even though he had selected only the most valuable items, the Infinite Bag had its limits due to its inherently small size.

In the past, he could carry a large Infinite Bag, capable of holding up to twenty times its size, and collect everything without issue. But now, it was impossible to carry any more without it being noticeable.

“I can always come back later.”

Repenhardt let go of his greed. After all, he had already far exceeded his target amount. Besides, the third floor of this place held memories with Siris. Exploring it again together and reliving those memories could be quite romantic, in its own way.

Thinking such an oddly romantic thought in the middle of a deadly dungeon, Repenhardt turned back.

“It’s about time to head out.”

“It seems we’ve secured the passage. Let’s return.”

“Ye-yeah.”

Stefan, who had done nothing but be knocked out, responded awkwardly.

The sound of cautious footsteps echoed through the dark passage. The knights led the way, followed by Todd, Sillan, Repenhardt, and the orc slaves.

Though Repenhardt had helped, the exploration was ultimately under the banner of the Altion Marquisate. They couldn’t possibly leave the lead to some unknown newcomer.

Repenhardt walked at the rear, alongside Sillan. The girlish boy had been pestering him with friendly queries, annoyingly curious about everything.

“Mr. Repen, are you by any chance royalty from some country?”

“No, just a commoner.”

“Really? But for such…”

“What? Is it strange for a commoner to be skilled?”

Was Sillan another one deeply ingrained with class consciousness? Repenhardt was about to frown when Sillan shook his head.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just… your demeanor is so natural.”

“Hmm?”

“Being a warrior, it’s natural to have confidence, and I can understand your attitude towards Sir Stefan but…”

To Sillan, Repenhardt’s martial prowess seemed even greater than that of the knight Stefan. It wasn’t uncommon for a highly skilled commoner to show disrespect towards a less capable noble, though it wasn’t exactly common either. It was understandable.

However, it felt awkward even to Sillan when Repenhardt was dismissive even towards Sir Edward. Disrespecting himself as a cleric could be attributed to Repenhardt’s youth, but it didn’t seem right for him to be so informal with the much older Sir Edward, not appearing as the type to disrespect others casually.

“Is that so?”

This became a moment of reflection for Repenhardt, who reconsidered his behavior. At his time of death, he was already in his fifties, which made the middle-aged Sir Edward seem young to him. Reflecting on it, he realized how absurd his behavior must have seemed.

“Right, I’m 22 now.”

He agreed with Sillan’s observation without objection and came up with a quick excuse.

“I’ve lived quite isolated, so I’m not well-versed in formalities. I’ll be more careful from now on.”

Luckily, Sillan didn’t seem to harbor any suspicions.

“Really? Well, that could happen.”

Thus, Stefan and his group cautiously explored the second floor of the Falton ruins, even managing to pick up some artifacts that Repenhardt had “overlooked,” delighting in their newfound wealth. Though Repenhardt felt a twinge of regret, he let it go.

“After all, I’ve taken the core items; these should at least cover the costs of the expedition.”

As they passed the areas Repenhardt had cleared, monsters began to appear again. The knights, now on their guard, calmly dealt with the demons, making their way through. Repenhardt saw no need to intervene; thanks to him, the strongest creatures like Beiters or Tagrels on the second floor had been taken care of, leaving only weaker demons.

Finally, at the end of the passage, they came across a large metal door engraved with symbols, behind which lay the staircase to the surface.

Stefan opened the door with a tense expression, and the other knights peered inside cautiously. Repenhardt, however, was not worried at all, knowing the area was supposed to be empty. But then…

‘What?’

Repenhardt’s eyes widened in surprise as he looked inside.

“Kraaaa!”

At the staircase leading upwards, right in front of them, a giant demon with a goat’s head was roaring, bound in chains of light.