Chapter 11: Chapter 11

Chapter 11: The Possibility of a Warrior

It went without saying that the Empire was warmer than Elphrel.

To think that the people of the Empire enjoyed this warmth every single day.

Remembering that the only warmth he’d ever felt in the North had been his mother’s touch, I realized once again just how harsh the North truly was.

Thanks to that, Leon’s arrival in Kellyburn happened in an instant. The warmth of the sun seemed to breathe strength into his body.

As he arrived before Kellyburn’s fortress wall, the gatekeeper extended his palm and spoke.

Indeed, it was worthy of being called a ducal territory—the gatekeeper’s discipline was impeccable.

“Where have you come from?”

The gatekeeper frowned.

The citizens of the Empire did not welcome northern warriors.

Their customs clashed too greatly with those of the Empire.

Fortunately, this gatekeeper was faithful to his duty. Even if Leon’s origin displeased him, he didn’t neglect his job.

“I heard the Duchy of Kellyburn was in need of assistance.”

“Here as a mercenary, are you?”

The gatekeeper handed over a small wooden token.

“This will serve as your proof of identity while you’re in Kellyburn. Cause trouble, and you’ll never set foot here again.”

Leon accepted the token with a nod. Getting into the territory had been easier than expected—something that puzzled him slightly.

Count Reinhardt’s domain occasionally saw warriors from Elphrel come and go, which explained why there wasn’t much restriction on their entry there.

But Kellyburn was different. It was not like the remote northern territories, far from the capital—it was close enough that the security should have been far stricter.

Considering that Kellyburn was a ducal land, it was rather questionable.

‘Well, I’m inside now. That’s what matters.’

If necessary, he had even been prepared to use Count Reinhardt’s seal. He disliked attracting attention, but he couldn’t afford to be barred from Kellyburn either. It was a relief to enter without any fuss.

Leon walked through the streets, observing his surroundings. The townsfolk looked at him with somewhat curious eyes.

They weren’t openly staring, but he could feel their gazes nonetheless.

They were people far removed from the North—it was only natural that a warrior of Elphrel would seem strange to them.

“Mister! If you’re lookin’ for an inn, how about this way?”

A man squatting in a courtyard called out to him. He was washing dishes at a well, scrubbing so vigorously that it almost sounded as if the wood itself were being shaved away.

“Judging by the look of ya, you haven’t been in Kellyburn long. If you’re lookin’ for a place to stay, our inn’s got room. A night’s lodging and a meal—all for five copper.”

Five copper. Not a small sum. Leon checked his pouch—he had exactly five copper left.

“Can I eat right away?”

“Of course! Though all I can make now’s a light sandwich. That okay?”

He had eaten wild boar meat before coming to Kellyburn. Right now, he only wanted something light to snack on.

A sandwich would do perfectly well.

“Then head on in and wait a bit!”

As Leon waited inside, the innkeeper soon came in.

The man’s hands were quick. In an instant, he prepared a sandwich and handed it to Leon.

It was packed full with mashed potatoes and scrambled eggs—enough to give a decent feeling of fullness.

“You didn’t look too hungry, so I made it light. If you want more, just say so.”

The innkeeper smiled. His cheerful face was pleasant to see.

With that brief reply, Leon took a bite of the sandwich.

From the outside, it looked plain, but it was filled with more ingredients than expected.

Here and there, he bit into kernels of corn and bits of carrot, likely added for texture.

He hadn’t expected such a satisfying meal from such a humble inn. He had imagined a thin, watery soup at best, but instead found himself finishing the meal contentedly.

Just as a smile spread across his face from the satisfaction—

A man wearing leather armor burst into the inn, calling out.

Startled, the innkeeper asked. The armored man, who had called him Jack, shouted,

“Bloody hell, another territorial war in three days! Should’ve never signed that damned contract!”

“Again?!” Thɪs chapter is updated by NoveIＦire.net

The innkeeper—Jack—ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. The turmoil in his eyes said it all.

Leon quietly listened to their exchange. A territorial war. Small-scale conflicts where nobles staked their lands and fought for them.

Of course, they weren’t true wars. They were limited disputes over territory. There was no way the Imperial Court would allow such petty clashes to turn into actual warfare.

Every territorial war had to be carried out under strict rules decreed by the Empire.

As Leon listened, Jack’s voice grew more heated.

“I told you, I don’t wanna fight again! What kind of grudge does that bastard Wilhelm have against Kellyburn anyway?!”

“Hey! Watch your mouth—you can’t go cursing a noble like that!”

The armored man glanced toward Leon as he scolded him. Jack followed his gaze, saw Leon, and drew in a sharp breath.

Leon had no intention of tattling on them to any noble. More importantly, he was a warrior of Elphrel.

He had no reason to meddle in another country’s affairs.

Realizing that belatedly, Jack’s tense expression softened.

“Sorry about that, mister. Things have been a mess in Kellyburn lately. Guess I’ve not been in my right mind.”

“What exactly happened?”

“Judgin’ by your accent, you’re from Elphrel, right? Didn’t you come here after hearing the news?”

Leon shook his head. He had only come here on Count Reinhardt’s word. The Count had told him he would understand once he arrived, so he hadn’t asked further.

“Well then, here’s what happened—”

Jack’s explanation was simple.

Over a hundred years ago, the Duke of Kellyburn and the Marquis of Wilhelm had made a land trade.

At that time, the Wilhelm family had been suffering from financial difficulties and sold off a portion of their land to make ends meet.

It had happened generations ago—around the great-great-grandfathers’ era.

The problem was that now, after all that time, the Marquis of Wilhelm was demanding the land back, launching a territorial war.

Leon thought to himself,

‘So the Wilhelm family’s full of petty men, huh.’

To bring up something that had been settled a century ago.

It wasn’t even a case of land being taken by force. There was no injustice, and yet they wanted it back now?

Leon had heard that nobles were shameless, but this was on another level.

“It's driving me mad. There’s nothin’ on that land anyway—why keep picking fights just to take it?”

“Then why not just hand it over?”

“You really are a warrior from the North, huh? That’s a mighty naïve thing to say.”

Jack let out a bitter laugh.

“For commoners like us, maybe land’s just dirt, but for nobles, every patch of it matters. And if someone tries to forcefully take it, that’s not about land anymore—it’s about pride.”

The concept of a territorial war was still unfamiliar to him, so it didn’t hit him deeply—but he understood that nobles had their own kind of reasoning.

Leon then thought, could Count Reinhardt have sent him here to participate in this territorial war?

If so, there had to be a purpose behind it.

Leon was a warrior. He barely had enough time as it was to train and grow stronger each day. And now he was expected to join a territorial war? Naturally, he found it odd.

“Ugh, I still get chills just thinkin’ about that battlefield! You don’t know what it was like, survivin’ that hell!”

Leon’s eyes widened. Battlefield.

He realized that he had never once truly experienced a battlefield.

He had been so focused on pushing himself that he’d forgotten something so fundamental.

The world was merciless—and even more so for a warrior of Elphrel.

A warrior lived to fight. Risking one’s life in combat was nothing unusual.

Leon rose to his feet. Jack, who had been about to sit across from him, froze halfway.

“To where the territorial war is being fought. It seems you’ll be joining as well, won’t you?”

“Bloody hell, yeah. The damn contract from before hasn’t expired yet. But you—are you sayin’ you wanna come with me to the war?”

When Leon said he wanted to join the territorial war, Jack had tried to stop him. But after hearing Leon’s warrior rank, Jack’s expression changed—he looked encouraged and said he would take care of things.

During that time, Leon continued his training in the inn’s backyard.

He hadn’t been able to train properly while traveling to Kellyburn. Any spare moment he had, he used for practice.

‘My swordsmanship’s becoming more natural.’

Though he could still only use the second form of the Twelve Celestial Sword Styles, there was no need to rush.

If he continued his steady efforts, he was certain he would one day master all twelve styles.

For now, filling in his other deficiencies came first.

‘The Martial God’s secret manual contained more than swordsmanship and inner cultivation techniques.’

It also included various martial disciplines—body-strengthening arts, tendon and nerve cultivation, and fist techniques.

Up until now, Leon had focused solely on swordsmanship, as he constantly ran into the limits of his body.

A warrior’s ultimate goal was to forge their body into a weapon, pushing physical limits to the extreme.

But Leon’s body, lacking natural talent, couldn’t reach that pinnacle.

That was why he had chosen the path of a knight instead.

‘But I don’t have to do that anymore.’

After encountering the demon beast in the Withers territory, Leon’s body had undergone tremendous change.

At first, it had been agony. His body, long bound by the Blessing, could not adapt to the sudden transformation.

His bones twisted, his muscle density shifted.

It was a good thing he had trained through martial arts; had he not, the change would have torn his muscles and snapped his tendons.

Yet, the result was that his body grew much stronger—even Leon himself was surprised by its resilience.

Most remarkable of all, the Blessing was still upon him.

‘Even while under the Blessing, I’ve grown this much. If it were completely lifted...’

A chill ran down Leon’s spine. He couldn’t even imagine how powerful he might become once the Blessing fully vanished.

For he did not only possess the body of a warrior—he also held the Martial God’s martial techniques.

He couldn’t help but feel excited at the thought of the day when both body and skill reached perfection.

Leon sat cross-legged and began to take slow, deep breaths.

Clearing his mind of all distractions, he recalled the Martial God’s sacred verses. Though it had been over ten years since he last read them, they remained vivid in his memory—engraved upon his very soul.

He could not forget them even if he wanted to.

The technique he was currently practicing was Infinite Void Heart Fist—a supreme fist technique said to have been used by the Martial God before he ever wielded a sword.

However, like with swordsmanship, Leon had yet to fully comprehend the Infinite Void Heart Fist. Naturally so. How could a mere third-rate ronin ever hope to completely master the techniques of a being like the Martial God from the start?

Even so, he persevered. His starting point might have been ahead of others, but if one trained in the Martial God’s techniques and still failed to grow stronger—then one was no better than a beast.

Yet, in truth, his starting point was far behind others.

His very potential as a warrior had been restrained by the Blessing bestowed by the gods.

It was only natural that his progress toward strength had been slower than others’.

To overcome everything and reach even higher, Leon did the only thing he could—he worked relentlessly.

His dream was to become Elphrel’s greatest warrior.

And to reach that dream, he could never stop walking.