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The Four Penguins of the Apocalypse

The situation was quickly resolved. Additional reinforcements were no longer needed, but additional alchemist personnel were required to investigate the incident.

 

Popper entered through the mansion’s front door with his hands behind his back. Inside, knights were carrying wooden beams. The earth from the tunnels dug by the ghouls was unstable, and the installation of supports to prevent collapse was in full swing.

 

His adjutant Berelman, who was waiting at the door, saluted and followed him.

 

“We sought advice from Lady Silveryn.”

 

“Tell me.”

 

“The large magic circle on the ceiling of the underground laboratory is a kind of barrier designed with high-level magic. It was preventing ghouls from escaping outside, but recently, part of it seems to have been lost, losing its effectiveness.”

 

“High-level magic…”

 

Popper’s eyes deepened.

 

Alchemists skilled in high-level magic were not common.

 

It was bound to be a headache, with talk of high-level magic coming up before even figuring out what this alchemist was trying to do.

 

“The magic circle wasn’t designed to prevent escape from the basement, but to prevent them from coming above the horizontal line where the magic circle was drawn. That’s why they diligently dug tunnels only sideways.”

 

“It seems they didn’t expect the ghouls to break through the walls. Have you checked how far the tunnels extend?”

 

“A report just came in. They extend to the cemetery. It appears they dug up and ate buried corpses, and some became ghouls and joined the group.”

 

This plausibly explained how the laboratory ghouls, who should have starved to death, formed such a large group.

 

Popper nodded as if finally understanding.

 

“We didn’t think of the cemetery.”

 

If they had focused on searching the cemetery, they might have found traces of the ghouls.

 

However, Berelman considered it extremely fortunate that they had accidentally missed the cemetery and the engagement occurred in the basement.

 

The cemetery was like a party venue for ghouls. It was optimized for ghouls, being an open area without fences and with tunnels spread like a spider web.

 

“If the engagement had occurred in the cemetery, it would have been a one-sided battle with ghouls dragging knights into tunnels, and it would have eventually turned into a disaster.”

 

“I suppose so… We owe a great debt to that young fellow.”

 

During their conversation, the mansion’s front door burst open and a wounded knight was dragged out, supported by others.

 

The injured knight, with his lower body soaked in blood, was isolated outside the gate.

 

Berelman added, as Popper watched this intently, “It’s the work of remaining ghouls.”

 

“Hmm…”

 

This was the third casualty.

 

Not all the ghouls had been cleared out. Even now, knights were struggling to subjugate the remaining ghouls.

 

The subjugation could only be concluded when every last ghoul was thoroughly eliminated.

 

The remaining ghouls, despite their territory being invaded by knights, refused to come out from their deep hiding places.

 

This was a habit that emerged when they were terrified.

 

This phenomenon occurred because the remaining ones were all ghouls that had “fled”. They were so frightened that they rushed out of the mansion alone to attack Joyce, or hid in tunnels and resisted fiercely.

 

And the terrifying presence that had scared these ghouls…

 

Popper turned his gaze to a boy sitting in a corner of the garden.

 

The boy was calmly wiping off the blood with a peaceful face, pouring water from buckets brought by villagers over his head.

 

“I’m increasingly curious about that fellow’s identity.”

 

“So am I.”

 

“Joyce is also a rare talent. He’ll be able to manifest sword aura in a few years, but he seems far from reaching that fellow’s level.”

 

It was a truly remarkable talent to reach the level of manifesting faint sword aura at around 20 years old.

 

“…”

 

Berelman felt ashamed of himself for tacitly agreeing with his colleagues who had looked down on Damian.

 

“Bring some clothes for that fellow.”

 

“I’ve already ordered it.”

 

“How about providing him with our Knight Order’s uniform?”

 

“…That’s an issue that requires Lady Silveryn’s consent. Given that his departure for Eternia is already confirmed, it would be presumptuous…”

 

Carelessly attaching a Knight Order’s insignia to someone under Silveryn’s tutelage could be problematic.

 

Popper interrupted Berelman and laughed heartily.

 

“Hahaha, that’s right. I was just throwing it out there.”

 

To Berelman, it didn’t feel like a casual suggestion. Popper’s eyes sparkled like a miner who had found a gold vein as he looked at the boy.

 

Just hours ago, the knights had mocked him. And now they glance at him with eyes mixed with awe. The boy paid no attention to this either way.

 

Popper stared at Damian for a while as if observing a mysterious animal, then sighed.

 

“Hmm…”

 

Soon after, Popper slowly approached Damian as if he had something to say to him.

 

***

 

Joyce remained in the underground laboratory, investigating the battle scene.

 

Questions were still knotted in his mind.

 

Sword marks were engraved on the walls and floor.

 

At least, there was no involvement of magic in the process of sweeping away the ghouls.

 

How on earth…

 

The solid stone walls and iron bars were smoothly carved out as if cutting a cake. The depth was even enough to fit a wrist.

 

It was a level impossible through brute force alone.

 

Is it possible to achieve this with that seemingly ordinary sword?

 

Volk, and Joyce’s peer Felix, were also investigating the battle scene beside him.

 

Felix was assisting them from the rear due to his significantly lower experience and skill.

 

Felix asked Volk, “What do you think, senior?”

 

“Looking at the trajectory of the sword swings, it’s very crude. Strictly speaking, it’s not the skill of someone who has studied swordsmanship for a long time.”

 

Volk wasn’t belittling or underestimating Damian’s skills.

 

A lot of information could be recorded at a battle scene. For those who could read what these records meant, trying to underestimate Damian’s talent was essentially a foolish act.

 

Felix interpreted this information, which Volk had derived simply for scene verification by removing emotions, as an intention to disparage.

 

In the current situation, Felix was the only one who envied and looked down on Damian.

 

He lacked experience and, like a teenage boy, his ego was overly inflated from belonging to the Knight Order. Moreover, he was still caught up in the atmosphere where some senior knights, including Volk, had looked down on him earlier.

 

“He was extremely lucky.”

 

Ignoring Felix’s words, Volk fell into thought for a moment and then said, “It must be a sword with sword aura or high-level magic engraved on it.”

 

Joyce pondered deeply.

 

“An enchanted sword…”

 

Felix added, “Then it’s the sword’s power, not his own skill. He’s benefiting from good backing.”

 

To exert this level of power, one must be able to handle sword aura skillfully. At sixteen years old and without proper sword training, sword aura was completely illogical, lying in a realm beyond mere talent.

 

The enchanted sword hypothesis was somewhat convincing, given that he had an Archmage like Silveryn as his master.

 

However, Joyce found it difficult to agree. Although he hadn’t seen him draw his sword, the sword he possessed was unlikely to be an enchanted sword.

 

Enchanted swords had short lifespans and must be kept in specially enchanted scabbards even when not in use to prevent mana from leaking. Damian was wearing an ordinary scabbard.

 

Moreover, Silveryn wouldn’t write a recommendation letter to Eternia for someone who merely possessed an enchanted sword that could be obtained with money.

 

There must be something more than that.

 

Volk added, “If not that, then it’s a magic sword…”

 

Joyce nodded quietly upon hearing his words.

 

Although the term “magic sword” itself lacked realism, it was the most convincing hypothesis considering all the circumstances.

 

“Aren’t they the same thing? Either way, it’s clear it’s not his own power, right?”

 

Felix thought magic swords and enchanted swords were the same thing.

 

Volk denied Felix’s words, “No, not at all. It’s the opposite.”

 

“What?”

 

Volk didn’t bother to add further explanation to Felix’s reaction.

 

Joyce swallowed hard.

 

It really could be a magic sword.

 

If it was a magic sword, it was a completely different dimension of ability and talent.

 

The main difference between magic swords and enchanted swords was the presence or absence of self-awareness.

 

Although this self-awareness didn’t think as complexly as humans, magic swords had their own “will” imbued in them.

 

Therefore, there were conditions for handling a magic sword.

 

The first was to be chosen by the magic sword.

 

However, “being chosen by the magic sword” wasn’t an absolute condition. Some Sword Masters could perfectly handle magic swords while completely ignoring their choice and will. But they had to endure enormous side effects.

 

The most important second condition was to withstand the magic pressure.

 

Due to the supernaturally high amount of magic power condensed in magic swords, magic pressure occurred around them when their power was manifested. Because of this, untrained individuals nearby could faint.

 

Moreover, those wielding the magic sword had to endure magic pressure of a different dimension than those just nearby.

 

Ignoring this and recklessly grasping a magic sword could lead to fainting and losing consciousness for months or becoming an idiot.

 

Resistance to magic pressure didn’t stretch like rubber with training. To handle a magic sword, one needed innate resistance.

 

It felt like a level even higher than using sword aura.

 

Volk also seemed to guess that Damian was the owner of a magic sword.

 

If rumors about the magic sword spread, Damian’s safety could be threatened. Of course, as long as Silveryn was by his side, he wouldn’t face harm, but it could become troublesome in many ways.

 

Felix muttered to himself as if it were nothing, “It’s not that great, is it? If I had a magic sword, I could easily handle ghouls, the academy, and everything…”

 

Volk, seemingly sharing Joyce’s thoughts, warned Felix, “Felix, you didn’t hear anything. Keep absolutely silent about the magic sword talk.”

 

“What? Oh, yes…! Aaagh!”

 

As Felix answered, he stepped on a ghoul’s flesh and fell face-first. Due to his large build, a loud noise echoed.

 

“Ugh, why haven’t they cleaned up the flesh yet.”

 

Joyce shook his head, looking down at Felix.

 

Felix clearly wouldn’t understand even after experiencing this directly.

 

Would he even know what it meant to stand without a scratch in a place where flesh, blood, spikes, and bones were densely packed with no room to step?

 

What good would it do to hold a magic sword? If he fell like that, his limbs would be torn off by ghouls in less than a second.

 

Felix also treated everything the same as Joyce because he was preparing for academy admission.

 

Strictly speaking, Felix had no chance of entering the academy. Even his entry as an apprentice knight here was largely due to massive sponsorship.

 

It was obvious that he would soon run to his daddy, whining to buy him an enchanted sword.

 

Joyce sighed deeply.

 

***

 

Popper approached Damian with his hands behind his back. His broad chest and firm muscles made him look much younger than his would suggest age.

 

Damian sat calmly, waiting for Popper to reveal his business.

 

This was the first time Damian faced Popper alone, without Silveryn accompanying him.

 

The knights guarding the mansion also had a mountain of questions they wanted to ask Damian, and they all focused their attention, expecting Popper to resolve these questions.

 

Popper, who had been quietly observing Damian, finally spoke, “Could you show me your sword?”

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