The atmosphere in the carriage had been relaxed, likely a continuation of the relaxed vibe following the training camp. We weren’t expecting any hardships or crises, so that was expected.
But things were different now.
A quiet, tense atmosphere hung in the air, like the calm before a storm.
The reason for this change was obviously the addition of the Goodspring carriage.
We were five days into our journey, and it had been three days since the Goodsprings started to accompany us.
Outside of meals, we barely crossed paths with them because we had separate carriages. Still, it was obvious they had their eyes on us. But if that were all, things would not be so tense.
Likely because Butterfly Goodspring had been so totally defeated, there was definitely some hostility in the looks they were giving us.
Charon, having just finished his stew, said to me, “Aside from Butterfly Goodspring, none of the others seem worth worrying about.”
Zero set down the water he’d been drinking and nodded in agreement. “I’m sure. From what I’ve heard, House Goodspring’s Proof Ceremony is just an extension of The Exchange. I don’t know about the quality of their teaching or their instructors, but it’s definitely not as brutal as the training we went through.”
Evan, looking unusually irritated, chimed in. “They tried to pick a fight over something dumb today.”
“What did they do?”
“I was making the stew, and one of their young heroes gave it a look, then flat out mocked us, saying, ‘Why are Bednickers eating pig flop?’”
Evan’s words seemed to set things off. Others also began to speak up about the treatment they’d had to endure from the Goodsprings.
“I was practicing swordsmanship before dinner and they came up to me to ask why I was doing late-night yoga. Bunch of rude bastards.”
“I finally mustered up the courage to go say hi, but all I got in return was sneers...”
“T-to my face, they straight up told me I was tiny as a pea! To my face!”
Sharyl listened to the complaints and sighed. “So they’re trying to pick a fight the sly, dirty way. Reminds me of the old days of high society.”
“If we react seriously, we’ll just end up looking like fools. It seems like while we were rolling about in the wild, the only thing those idiots learned to do was flap their mouths.”
That wasn’t true for all of them, though.
Butterfly Goodspring’s social skills were a total mess.
I’d seen the young heroes of Goodspring, and they were just as Charon had said.
There was no need to look deeper; a half-assed glance told me everything I needed to know about who they were.
Most of those idiots were pampered kids from rich families.
No. Maybe not exactly pampered...
More like the kind of brats who hadn’t yet received proper training. Like these guys had been before experiencing the Six Weeks of Despair.
I wasn’t trying to say that Bednicker’s training camp was superior, but when focused on raising the next generation of heroes, one could not deny the impact of whatever training they received.
Even Bednickers don’t enjoy seeing their young heroes die, that’s for sure.
The reason they filled the training camp with unexpected dangers, ones that could even cost the young heroes their lives, was simple: If one aspired to be a hero, they were bound to face danger eventually, and people who had experienced similar dangers were far more likely to make it out alive.
I didn’t know what kind of curriculum the Proof Ceremony followed, but one thing was clear: Those idiots in no way looked like they’d been to hell and back.
“What should we do, Big Bro?” Charon asked me quietly.
Thankfully, he’d finally learned to whisper quietly enough that others wouldn’t hear him, though it’d taken a few good whacks... He’d just been drawing way too much attention to me every time he called me “Big Bro.”
A little ways away, I saw Hector stand and say, “We will arrive at the Imperial City in a day or two... So let’s just quietly keep an eye on them for now.”
“Understood.”
Except, if my hunch is right, something big will happen before we reach the city.
I kept that thought to myself, though.
***
Traveling in a carriage was boring.
The excitement at the start of the trip had faded within half a day, and watching the scenery pass by had lost its charm about an hour or so after that.
Though I’d never gotten the chance to get bored on this journey.
“Focus, Master,” came Arzan’s silvery voice, bringing me back to the situation at hand. “Slowly, concentrate your mind where the beast mark lies. It may help if you just think of it as moving your mana.”
At the moment, I was in the workers’ carriage with Arzan, learning how to harness the power of my divine beast.
This was the reason I’d never grown bored: Arzan’s talent for teaching.
“...It’s hard to focus on the beast mark when it’s on the back of my neck.”
Arzan chucked softly. “You are correct. People usually begin concentrating on something by looking at it. If they cannot see what they are focusing on, it becomes much more difficult.”
Unless I grow eyes in the back of my head, there’s no way I’ll see the mark on my back.
“Its location is downright cruel. It’s like she wanted to see me suffer. Oh, by the way, where’s yours, Arzan?”
“It’s near my temples, so I can somewhat sympathize with your struggle, Master.”
Her temples? I’d had no clue. Her hair covered it well.
“It’s a bit of a struggle now, but once you get past this stage, the advantages will far outweigh the hardships.”
“For example?”
“The placement of your beast mark is convenient since you can hide it easily. Since it’s not an area easily exposed, there is less risk of the mark being damaged.”
“So the beast mark can actually be damaged? Will the contract break?”
“It depends on the extent of the damage, but yes, that can happen. You can re-establish the contract, but it is difficult. Divine beasts treat their marks as part of themselves. If they see their contractor being careless with their mark, they will be very disappointed.”
That made sense. In that case, it was definitely better to have the mark on the back of my neck than somewhere like my hand or arm.
Unless I was attacked from behind, the chances of it being damaged were quite low.
“Let’s end it here for today.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Master Luan’s ability to acclimate is astonishingly quick. At this rate, you might succeed in partial divine-beast transformation before the month is over.”
Divine-beast transformation, simply put, was an advanced application of Augmentation.
It was a technique used to maximize physical abilities. For example, Sellen when she fought Hariba, or Arzan in the Gem Mountains.
In addition, there was something of a side effect to the transformation, which was that the user’s appearance changed a bit...
I looked behind me and spotted Butterfly Goodspring wandering through the dark forest.
What was he up to?
As I observed him a bit longer, I realized he wasn’t lost at all.
He was slowly making his way toward me.
Swish...
I gathered and stowed away the power of the divine beast, then looked back at the water’s surface to confirm that my slit pupils had returned to normal. Afterward, I went back to where I’d been sitting and sat facing the direction Butterfly was coming from.
Moments later, he emerged from the bushes.
“...Oh, there you are,” he said with a smile.
“Were you looking for me?”
“Yeah.”
“What business do you have?”
“I know you. You’re the useless one from the Bednicker family, right?”
I tilted my head at his words. In the end, I decided to reply, “I’m Luan.”
“Right, Luan Bednicker—the idiot youngest who sold the family’s precious sword.”
I had a pretty good idea of why he was here. I picked my ear and, just to confirm, asked, “You're here to pick a fight with me, right?”
“Pick a fight? Please, you’re not even worth my time. You’re barely worthwhile as a punching bag.”
Surprisingly, I actually liked his bluntness. He was straight and to the point.
“You alone?” I asked. I had seen him approach alone, but I wanted to confirm.
“Yeah, there’s no one around. The carriage is far away, so even if someone screams, no one will hear. Why? Were you planning to tattle to your brother?”
“...”
“But I heard that the Bednickers are practically enemies, right? Is that the Lord of Blood and Iron’s policy? I heard your relationships are pretty terrible. I noticed that you and your brother never make eye contact. Like, at all. Every time you look at him, he blatantly looks away.”
“Hector does have a slight tendency to avoid me.”
“Yeah, I can tell.” Butterfly laughed loudly. His laugh sounded just a little evil. “I can tell it won’t be a big deal if you get hurt.”
I remained silent.
“Of course, it would be a friendly spar... in name only. The youngest of Goodspring and Bednicker, unable to control their tempers, went at each other.”
“Aha,” I said as I rose from my seat.
Coincidentally, I didn’t have the Sword of Seven Sins with me. I had left it behind in the carriage.
Noticing how I was feeling around my waist, Butterfly chuckled slyly.
“Want me to lend you a sword? Even I don’t particularly enjoy just beating someone up. I need them to fight back at least a litt—”
I suddenly raised my two fists toward his face. “What do you think these are?”
“Your hands, obviously. Do you think I’m an idiot?”
“Wrong,” I said, clicking my tongue and shaking my head. “I’ll introduce you to two of my very good friends here. This one’s called ‘Etiquette’, and this one’s called ‘Decorum’.”
“...What?”
“And if you put them together?”
Butterfly was frowning in clear confusion. As if in a trance, he replied, “...Etiquette and Decorum?”
“Exactly.” I nodded as I brought my fists together.
BANG!
As the sound of the collision echoed around us, Butterfly burst into laughter.
“Haha! You’ve got time to spout nonsense? I wonder how long you can keep that up. After receiving my hits for ten or so minutes, I imagine you’ll be crawling on the ground.”
“You really are ignorant. I’ll teach you something today,” I said as if talking to a little kid, “so listen carefully: It doesn’t take ten minutes to make someone crawl on the ground.”
It took one fight with Hector and about two days with Charon.
Suddenly, I became curious.
What about this guy?
I honestly had no clue how long he’d last.
It seemed “Etiquette” and “Decorum” would have to find out.
“How dare you...” Butterfly’s face flushed with anger as he charged at me. “Who do you think you are to speak such nonsense to me?”
...
...
...
“Keuk, Kuk, Gaah...”
“...”
“Th, tho... th-thorr.”
I paused my punches and looked down at the bloodied Butterfly.
“What was that?”
“Thhor... rry... I... mathe... meethake.”
“Mmm.”
“Puh-lz... thtop...hithing...”
I nodded once, released him, and checked the time.
Six minutes and 17 seconds.
A new record.