The Indomitable Martial King

[ Chapter 36 ]

Ascending to the second floor of the inn, Siris promptly led Sillan out into the hallway. Carried around like luggage, Sillan staggered, looking around dizzily. Though Siris put some distance between them with her elf-like agility, she knew their pursuers, no fools themselves, would soon follow them up the stairs.

Sillan started running, suggesting, “Let’s return to our room and arm ourselves.”

Siris shook her head in disagreement as she ran alongside him, “There will be people there too.”

Elvenheim trained its Slayers not only in combat skills but also in various situational tactics, to ensure they could adequately support their masters. She coldly assessed the situation and advised against it, “Moreover, our pursuers will likely head straight for our room. It’s too dangerous.”

Thinking him naive, she was surprised when Sillan shook his head, “I’m aware of that. But right now, it’s more important to get armed. With your skills, Siris, you can handle one or two guards at our room, right? They wouldn’t have stationed an orc gladiator there.”

As they ran through the hallway, Sillan quickly added, “They’re going to chase us anyway. Better to delay slightly and arm ourselves properly than to run with just a dagger.”

“Is that so?”

Upon hearing his reasoning, Siris looked at Sillan anew, impressed by his judgment in a crisis. Though young, Sillan had far more experience with the world than his age suggested (in fact, he wasn’t that young). He understood reality better than Siris, who had lived her life within Elvenheim, learning theories.

They immediately headed for their room, where, as expected, a man was guarding the entrance. As the guard started to react, Siris leapt up, kicked off the wall, and delivered a flying kick.

“What? What’s this? Argh!”

After swiftly taking down the opponent, Siris and Sillan quickly entered their room and locked the door. Sillan hastily grabbed his robe and sacred artifacts.

Meanwhile, Siris opened the wardrobe, took out the clothes Repenhardt had bought for her, gathered some weapons, and started to change. She momentarily pondered whether it was appropriate to change in front of Sillan, considering he was also a boy, but brushed off the thought.

Despite being pursued, they were remarkably calm. Sillan, astonished, exclaimed.

“Siris! When did you have the leisure to change clothes?”

“Eh? What should I do then….”

In Elvenheim, they taught how to prepare for an ambush, but not how to arm oneself while fleeing.

Thus, without thinking, Siris was about to arm herself as usual.

“Obviously, you have to grab it and run…….”

This elf named Siris had a cold and mature look, but was surprisingly clumsy. Sighing, Sillan motioned for her to grab her things with his hand. Only then did Siris realize and hurriedly grabbed her weapons and jacket. During this time, Sillan offered a prayer.

“O Philanence, erase our traces to protect us from danger.”

He cast a holy spell to erase their tracks and prayed again.

“O Philanence, let your breath dwell within us.”

Pink particles gently rose and wrapped around their feet. With that, Sillan flung open the guest room window and leaped out. Siris exclaimed in surprise.

“Sillan!?”

Why did he suddenly jump, as if committing s*****e? Panicked, she looked out the window to see Sillan gently landing on the ground like a feather. The prayer Sillan had recited was for safely descending from high places, similar to the magic spell Feather Fall in effect. After landing, Sillan gestured for her to jump quickly.

“Uff…….”

Understanding, Siris also threw herself outside. It was late evening in the middle of winter, and the streets were nearly empty. Thus, jumping from the second floor didn’t attract much attention.

“What do we do now?”

With a look that said, “What kind of obvious question is that?”, Sillan replied.

“We have to run.”

* * *

Lantas, a man in his fifties, was leisurely walking down the hallway. He seemed too relaxed to be a pursuer, but he had a reason for his demeanor.

Lantas was a swordsman who had awakened the Aura, the great realm of the sword. The sensory range of an Aura user was astonishing. He could vividly sense the movement of all living beings within a radius of about 30 meters as if he were seeing them with his eyes. Knowing exactly where his targets were, he felt no need to hurry.

“Hmm, what’s this? Are they planning to hide by entering a room?”

Feeling the elf and boy’s presence heading towards a second-floor guest room, Lantas smirked. They were practically crawling into their room when they should be escaping the inn, truly a novice move. He followed the noise leisurely until his expression suddenly hardened.

“What’s this?”

The presence had vanished! The very presence that was so vividly felt in the second-floor room had disappeared in an instant.

Lantas was flustered. He had never experienced something like this before. High-ranking mages or clerics could conceal their presence with unique spells.

“What? Was that youngster capable of using magic to erase his presence like a high-ranking cleric?”

He had never heard of such a thing. A look of confusion spread across the middle-aged man’s face. Leisurely, Lantas vanished with a swoosh, leaving only the sound of air in his wake. In an instant, he had crossed the corridor, opened the door to the room, and surveyed the interior. The room was empty, and the window was wide open, letting in the chilly winter wind.

“This, this is…”

His confident expression twisted. He hadn’t expected the youngsters to have such tricks up their sleeves.

On a whim, he cut off his mana perception and focused his aura on his hearing, in case the person had erased their presence and was hiding in the room. There were those who believed in the proverb, “The darkest place is under the candlestick,” and used such methods to evade their pursuers.

No matter how well one hides and holds their breath, the sound of a beating heart cannot be concealed. No magic or divine spell could allow someone to live without the beat of their heart. That’s why he listened carefully…

“Damn, they must have escaped outside.”

The room was definitely empty. At that moment, Romad and his subordinates belatedly entered the room. They had just caught up with Lantas after hastily climbing the stairs and rushing through the corridors.

“Where are they, Sir Lantas?”

Romad looked around and asked. His tone was casual, but to Lantas, it sounded almost like a rebuke, causing him to furrow his brows even more.

“Don’t tell me… you’ve lost them?”

“Quiet! They must be around here somewhere. Spread out!”

Lantas shouted and walked towards the window. He had only followed to stretch his legs and show off, but now he was genuinely heated. He leapt out of the window like a bird.

The city of Zeppelin was enveloped in darkness, with the sun already set and the moon hidden, making the city corners especially dark.

As befitting a commercial city, the main streets were bright with streetlights and the glow from shops, but just a few steps into the alleys plunged one into pitch darkness.

In that darkness, two people were carefully making their way. Sillan and Siris had escaped from the “Golden Rest” and were using the shadows to navigate through the alleys, moving away from the inn.

“Ugh, I can’t see.”

“This way.”

“Mm-hmm…”

Siris, with her night vision, could somewhat make out the surroundings, but Sillan was practically blind in the darkness. Stumbling over obstacles, he relied solely on Siris’s hand to guide him.

“It seems like there’s no one around.”

Even if Romad’s party wasn’t there, the dark alleyway was a den of crime in its own right. The woman, gripping a scimitar, kept a vigilant watch around her.

“If there were many eyes watching, they wouldn’t dare to attack rashly. Maybe it’s better to go out to the streets?”

Siris made a sensible suggestion, as she had learned in Elvenheim. It seemed even those who acted recklessly were wary of the public eye. Hadn’t the inn also refrained from moving guests around without cause?

However, Sillan, who knew the reality, rejected that suggestion.

“It’s useless. We need to avoid drawing any attention as much as possible.”

“Why?”

“Those guys, they’ll surely claim they’re here to capture escaped slaves.”

From the perspective of a passerby, there would be no way to tell if Siris was an escaped slave or if someone was trying to unlawfully take someone else’s slave. It was obvious everyone would just mind their own business.

“Instead, we would only end up revealing our location. Right now, avoiding attention is crucial.”

Clicking his tongue, Sillan groped through the darkness again. Suddenly, a sigh escaped him.

“Phew…”

Although he had wandered the world, he had mainly traveled around the Vasily Kingdom. The Vasily Kingdom, strong in the teachings of the Philanence Order, had Philanence temples everywhere. Back then, Sillan was also part of the power class, and thus could deal with injustices as much as he needed.

However, once he became a pilgrim and left the Vasily Kingdom, he painfully realized how harsh the world could be. He understood why so many pilgrims ended up dying. He even thought of returning to his comfortable and peaceful order.

‘But if I give up here…’

Sillan clenched his teeth, thinking of ‘her’ who was waiting in the order. ‘She’ was the main reason he had chosen the path of a pilgrim. If he returned now, he would be caught by ‘her’ again.

He didn’t want that.

‘I’d rather wander the world in danger! I won’t return until I’ve become a manly man!’

With that resolution, Sillan clenched his fists tightly. Siris tilted her head, puzzled.

‘……?’

After wandering the alleyways for quite some time, they finally came upon a somewhat brighter place. Though still dark, the area had relatively affluent houses, and light leaked from second-story windows even at night.

As the outlines of objects became visible, Sillan leaned against a wall, relieved. Walking with his eyes closed was more mentally draining than he had imagined. Catching his breath, Sillan grumbled.

“Ah! If only Repenhardt were here, we wouldn’t have any problems! Where on earth is that guy wandering off to?”

Having an Aura wielder by one’s side meant there was nothing to fear. No matter how many of those riffraff swarmed in, or even if an orc gladiator invaded with an army, it posed no problem at all.

“Anyway, we must meet up with Mr. Repenhardt, ah…”

Siris tilted her head, puzzled. The Repenhardt she had seen was nothing more than a bizarre young man lost in his role-play, large in stature. Yet, the high priest Sillan showed such deep trust in him.

“Is Repenhardt that strong?”

‘Ah, Siris doesn’t know, of course.’

Sillan was just about to reveal that Repenhardt was an Aura user when Siris changed the subject first.

“We still need to meet up, right?”

“Indeed. No matter how you look at it, those guys are underlings of the ruling powers; clashing with them would just be a headache.”

With Repenhardt’s strength, the current problem seemed like it could easily be solved with his fists. However, even so, if those in power push with their might, an individual can hardly cope. Being part of the ruling class himself, Sillan knew this all too well.

The best option seemed to be meeting Repenhardt and getting out of Zeppelin in any way possible. It might feel dirty to flee without committing a crime, but realistically, what other choice was there?

“Then, let’s send someone with a letter and decide on a place to meet.”

It was a sensible suggestion, but Sillan shook his head again this time.

“Given the nature of this place, they’re likely to run straight to those guys with that letter.”

Sillan already harbored deep mistrust for this nonsensical country called the Chatan Principality. It wasn’t exactly prejudice. The city of Zeppelin was indeed full of such scoundrels.

“Is there another way then?”

Having every suggestion rejected, Siris’s tone turned cold, slightly annoyed. Of course, the oblivious Sillan still didn’t catch on.

After a moment of contemplation, Sillan seemed to have thought of something, albeit reluctantly.

“Ah! There is a way…”

The look on his face showed he wasn’t too pleased with the idea he had in mind.

Sighing, Sillan stood up and began to pray quietly.

“Oh Philanence, in your merciful protection, allow the threads of fate so that a sorrowful parting may turn into a joyful meeting…”

The prayer was unusually long and remarkably normal. Fascinated, Siris watched Sillan. After praying to the goddess, Sillan closed his eyes and stood silently for a moment. Suddenly, he shuddered.

“Ah, it’s done…”

His expression was less than thrilled for a successful prayer.

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