Sword Pilgrim

A few minutes ago.

Gabor.

A small rural town whose like could be found everywhere on the outskirts of the civilization.

The residents made a living by logging, farming, and hunting.

Just like any other ordinary town.

But its location at the border between the empire and the principality, and the fact that there were huge forests and swamps nearby –

– Meant this was a gathering place for many mercenaries and vagrants.

After entering Gabor, Callius quickly went to a tavern and ordered food to satisfy his hunger.

Although the menu only comprised on salads and stews.

He wanted a lamb steak, but that kind of food couldn’t be found anywhere in this small town.

Although the townspeople did raise a few sheep here and there, all you could buy was venison.

Callius was in no position to be picky, so he just made his order and sat waiting quietly.

“Hey there, Bro.”

As always, annoyances who didn’t even know their place came to bother him.

To be honest, he was a little nervous in case somebody recognized him as that Devil of Lust or something, but it was a bother either way.

“Ordering venison steak? You must be loaded.”

“Are you a pilgrim, Bro? Looks at this fancy white robe. Are you showing off your money?”

“How about making a donation? Kahaha!”

Three baldies. Two shaggy-looking. Five in total.

And those who were just watching from the sidelines…

‘About fourteen or so.’

Callius pondered.

Apparently he had no choice but to finish his meal while enduring the smell of blood.

“Hey, are you ignoring me?”

A vagrant was approaching with a spear in hand.

“Haah.”

Callius wrestled away the spear and threw it away.

Crunch!

It pierced through the vagrant’s heart without even giving him a chance to scream, then broke through the tavern wall and disappeared in the distance. One baldie down.

Thud.

There was silence in the tavern as the corpse dropped to the floor.

But that only lasted a moment.

“This bastard!”

They came all at once.

He couldn’t use a sword in this place and risk discovery.

So Callius took out the mace he’d taken off a soldier from subspace.

Or rather, a morning star.

A blunt-headed weapon with pointed thorns.

He swung it in an elegant arc.

Crunch! Crack! Puff! Thud!

Blood and brains scattered everywhere.

The heads of the rest of the five who’d jumped in – two baldies and two shaggy-looking men – burst like ripe melons in an instant.

It was an attack that went beyond cruelty.

The vagrants who were about to stand up and rush in stiffened like stone.

But Callius had no intention of letting them go. The ones who’d shown even a speck of killing intent were struck like a thunderbolt and blown away.

The essence of fighting a crowd is momentum.

You have to take the lead and make a few examples to cow everybody else.

So, after a while –

“Here’s your food.”

“…”

The tavern owner put the food down without even blinking an eye at the grisly sight of the corpses.

The man didn’t seem even remotely bothered, so he probably had some skills of his own.

Callius put down the morning star and took out a knife and a fork.

He started with the soup and salads.

Then he finished the stew. Finally, he began to elegantly slice up the venison steak and eat it in neat bites.

It smelled a little fishy, but it could still be eaten.

‘I’d say about three out of ten.’

It reminded him of the roasted earth dragon he’d eaten in the North. The dish had been good enough to achieve a score which should’ve been unthinkable for someone of Callius’ picky palate.

It’d scored a jaw-dropping eight out of ten.

In comparison, the venison steak at this Jaw Dropping Tavern –

Usually Callius wouldn’t have eaten it even if he were paid to, but he was helpless right now.

The food he’d kept in subspace had to be conserved for unexpected situations.

“The stew is a little better, I suppose.”

About four points, if he had to grade it.

Rattle.

As he was tasting the food, the gatekeeper he’d met earlier appeared, putting down some money on the table, and tried to leave.

Callius tilted his head, but soon understood.

‘Guy’s got a conscience.’

He’d probably ripped Callius off at the city gates.

Now the man was terrified after seeing what’d happened to the gangsters who’d tried to hassle him. Callius didn’t much care, but he didn’t like the thought of simply letting him go back.

“Hey.”

“Yes?”

“Here, clean this place up.”

“Ah… me?”

“…”

“I, I’ll clean it up! Happy to clean it up. Haha!”

The gatekeeper began to clean up the room in a hurry, but Callius’ attention was caught by two newcomers, both clad in robes, approaching him from the front.

‘I smell iron.’

And the smell of flowers and grass.

Perhaps because his sense of smell had become very sensitive to flesh and blood, he could smell the former more clearly.

Genos from the Gradas family would’ve been able to make a more accurate judgment here, but Callius was a Jervain and didn’t have the Gradas’ nose.

So he couldn’t be completely certain.

They were the ones approaching him, so he decided to sit back and watch the situation unfold.

“May we sit?”

“As you like.”

Thud.

The short man sat down roughly enough to make the chair creak, and the one standing next to him took a seat much more carefully.

Callius’ doubts were solidifying into certainty.

“Boss! A beer, here! What about you two?”

“Some wine might be nice.”

“Flower wine[1] for me.”

“Some wine and flower wine too, Boss! And some food!”

Their food and drinks quickly arrived at the table.

The short-statured man with a hoarse voice quickly dug in with his big, broad hands.

The other ate the salad and stew, and drank the flower wine straight from the bottle with her slender hands.

Callius took the Holy Grail of the Defeated God from his bosom and used it as a cup for his own drink.

After they were satiated, they put down their food and drinks and started talking.

“Thank you for the delicious meal! You have our gratitude. I’m called Aldo. This is Serena.”

“I am Serena. Hello.”

“… Call me Callis.”

‘So the food and drinks were on me?’ Callius thought, feeling quite upset.

He couldn’t help but wonder if these two were beggars too, but he still had to hear their story first.

After a small silence, Aldo looked at Callius with an interested gaze and spoke.

“You aren’t from the principality, right?”

It was a sudden, sharp question.

Callius was surprised for a moment, but didn’t outwardly react.

“How ridiculous. You’re telling a pilgrim from the principality that he isn’t from there? Is this rudeness how you repay my favour to you?”

But although Callius tried to play it off by pretending to be angry, Aldo’s mouth hidden under his bushy beard curved up in a grin.

“There’s no need to act like that. I have a lot of experience dealing with people from the principality. Your mace doesn’t contain the viciousness that’s typical of them. Callis, if you were really a pilgrim from the principality, the people who attacked you wouldn’t have gotten away with just some broken ribs. Their whole bodies would’ve been crushed to paste.”

Serena also nodded in agreement while she was gulping down wine from the bottle.

“Because that’s just how the principality is.”

“…”

Callius didn’t have any retorts.

He’d truly overlooked this fact.

Or rather, his experience with the people of the mace had been lacking.

While Callius was silent, Aldo stroked his beard that was hanging down outside his hood in a confident manner.

“Well then, now the question is, why are you carrying a mace and pretending to be from the principality? Because you’re from the empire? No way. Why would an imperial go to all that trouble? Simply put, you’re neither from empire nor the principality.”

“Hmm. Then what’s your answer?”

“Your skills have surpassed a certain level. Be it power or speed. Both are top class and have a sense of elegance.”

The answer was already quite satisfactory.

‘I do like those words: class and elegance.’

Aldo didn’t mention anything about dignity, but Callius took him to mean that his attacks looked dignified.

“How you held the knife in your hand and the way you sliced the meat were also unusual. You must be a pilgrim of the sword.”

That was a pretty incisive deduction.

Callius was inwardly startled.

Because he hadn’t expected this guy to have such insight.

Aldo had merely observed some small clues and from there reached the correct answer.

Wasn’t this fun?

But Callius wasn’t going to just honestly admit it.

Because there were gaps in the reasoning.

“Well, who knows. Maybe I serve the axe or the scythe? Or even somebody else?”

“Haha, on the contrary, that might be even better for us. Apart from the spear and the mace, we’ll welcome anybody else.”

‘Tch.’

It was his loss.

Aldo chuckled, while Serena called for another bottle of wine in a low voice.

His origin had been revealed, but Callius didn’t feel broken up about it.

“Would you like to work with us?”

“Meaning?”

“As you can see, we’re pilgrims too. Just like you. Since you’re passing through here, you must be heading to the Holy Land, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Having the company of an expert like you must be a blessing from God. Why not travel together? We’re all in the same boat anyway, and I think you’ve also figured out our identities by now.”

That was true.

Aldo used a hammer, and Serena a bow.

Although it was a rare combination, having these two work together.

One was a dwarf, and the other an elf.

Except for the spear and mace served by the empire and the principality, an alliance of two nations which currently had the greatest influence on the continent, there was no great hostility between the pilgrims of the other powers.

Even now, it was a common sight on the continent for pilgrims of different armaments to accompany each other for a while on the path of pilgrimage.

But –

‘Do I need to do that?’

Why had he left behind all his knights and followers back in Carpe in the first place?

Because Callius was now on a pilgrimage alone to carry out his own faith and his own justice.

If that sounded a bit pretentious, let’s say he felt more comfortable travelling alone because he was thinking of touring the whole continent.

His maniac trait had also disappeared, so there was no issue travelling alone.

“If you’re asking me just because you want company along the way to the Holy Land, I must refuse.”

“Hmm… The reason being?”

“Because a bigger party brings more harm than good.”

Of course, that was a superficial reason.

Callius actually knew them.

So he wanted to draw out the core truth behind why they were trying to rope him into joining them.

‘If I remember correctly, they’ll one day be called the Heroes of the Continent.’

Of course, that was six more years from now.

To be honest, there was nothing wrong with making friends with them.

They might be mere pilgrims now, but their potential was that high.

So he was curious.

Why would these two, both top-class among pilgrims in power, ask him to accompany them?

Why did they need more power?

Since many routes had already changed compared to the game, he’d better watch his step[2].

“Hmm…”

Aldo gulped and looked at Serena, but she only kept silently drinking her flower wine.

He looked perplexed, as if he hadn’t thought that Callius would refuse so firmly.

While Callius was pondering over a way to pry open their mouths, Aldo once again started talking.

“Actually, we have another colleague.”

“Oh? And?”

“He’s why we want your help. He’s in trouble.”

At Aldo’s words, Callius’ face darkened.

A deep and dark forest.

Those gathered there pitifully looked at the sky, relying only on the moonlight.

Their bodies were covered with scales, and horns sprouted from their heads.

Their eyes were like those of a reptile, and each held a spear in their hand.

“We are descendants of the dragons.

“But we are lost.

“Our believers, our holy books. Even the lands of our forefathers!”

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The audience thumped the ground with the shafts their spears as if in sympathy.

“How long must we hide under the moonlight?

“How long must our spears only aim at the distant heavens and the earth beneath our feet!

“We…!”

Why!

“Why can’t we stand proud!!”

Boom! Boom! Boom!

“We have the right to take back what was stolen from us!”

“Why should the descendants of dragons have to live in such a shabby place!”

“Let’s just take up our spears and attack!”

“The decision will be made in a week!”

“Brothers, let’s take back what was stolen from us!”

Boom! Boom! Boom!

“Let’s get our lives back!!”

Boom! Boom! Boom!

“Let’s show the power of the dragonkin to the unscrupulous empire!!”

Boom! Boom! Boom!

In the midst of a tribe of dragonkin who were desperate to throw away their lives, one looked at the goings-on with pitiful eyes.

He was a companion of Aldo and Serena, and a pilgrim of Lactus who’d been appointed as the new chieftain of the dragonkin tribe.

A tribe of fugitives, despite the fact that they were born with the power of the strongest of creatures, the dragons.

‘The old codgers are making a fuss because they all want to die. I want to live… But how do I escape?’

His name was Philomatour.

Also called, Philo ‘Cut Tail[3]’.

Editor’s Notes:

[1] 화주 (hwaju), flower wine. Rice wine infused with hydrangea and chrysanthemum flowers.

[2] 돌다리도 두들기고 건너는 (lit. knock on the stone bridge before crossing). To watch your step.

[3] 꼬리 자르기 (lit. cutting the tail). Very similar to the English phrase ‘cut your tail and run’ i.e. remove yourself from a messy situation and escape.