Chapter 253:
Gebel awkwardly sheathed the sword he had drawn and then hugged Isaac tightly.
“Heh, I didn’t expect to be treated poorly, but I didn’t anticipate such a warm welcome. I always saw you as calculative and cunning, like a cold-blooded person devoid of emotions.”
“Is that what you say after meeting me again after so long?”
However, Isaac found it hard to refute Gebel’s assessment, so he didn’t bother denying it. Whether in the monastery or anywhere else, Isaac had always judged things based strictly on profit and results, living his life as if strategizing for a conquest.
It was a means of survival, but for him, this world was also a game. Yet, having lived this long, there were a few people who sometimes made him forget about the game. Gebel was one of those people.
“You seem taller since I last saw you. You’ve gained some muscles... though not much, it seems you’ve tried. You’ve always had a body that didn’t gain muscle easily since you were young.”
Gebel muttered regretfully. However, knowing Isaac’s strength, it wasn’t something that concerned him much. Isaac turned around and picked up Kaldwin, which he had thrown aside. Calurien, who resided in Kaldwin, grumbled something.
Gebel looked at the sword with a baffled expression.
“That doesn’t look like an ordinary sword. Is it by any chance the Kaldwin I’ve heard rumors about?”
“You recognized it?”
“I used to be a paladin; it wouldn’t make sense if I couldn’t recognize such a holy artifact... So, the rumor that you were chosen as Elil’s Grand Warrior wasn’t a lie after all.”
Gebel shook his head in disbelief.
Isaac chuckled at his reaction.
“I don’t know what kind of rumors you’ve heard, Gebel, but if you hear everything that’s true, you won’t be able to be surprised at each one.”
***
Isaac intentionally walked with Gebel to the Issacrea Monastery.
Although it had grown dark and the night had fallen, neither of them had any reason to fear the darkness. Moreover, the roads frequently used by many people were easy to walk on even without much lighting.
Gebel continuously expressed his amazement as he looked around Issacrea.
“I’ve been here before. It was just an ordinary rural village. People’s expressions were gloomy, and the lord was spending his meager income building a wall. I heard you hadn’t been managing this estate for long, but it seems there aren’t many places better to live within the Empire.”
“Stop with the flattery.”
Isaac thought Gebel was making lame jokes just because they hadn’t seen each other for a while.
Of course, it had significantly developed compared to before, but it was still lacking compared to major cities like Serna or Lenheim. It would prosper more over time, but for now, it was just a rural area starting to develop.
However, Gebel shook his head.
“No, I’m not just talking about the visible roads or the fancy buildings. I’m talking about the expressions of the people, the state of public facilities, and the security.”
Gebel continued with a grim expression.
“On the way from Ariet Monastery to Serna, the road was so damaged that I had to take mountain paths several times, and I encountered bandits about five times. I guess they thought I looked easy since I was alone. In Serna, it’s difficult to even walk around at night.”
Isaac listened to Gebel and looked around. Despite it being late at night, lanterns lit by priests were placed at every intersection, and people were casually going in and out of taverns or continuing their unfinished business from the day. It was a rare scene for a rural area. Yet, no one looked anxious or wary.
“I’ve been to Serna before. I saw the Barbary Bandits roaming around, but is it that bad now?”
“Are you talking about a year ago? The security has worsened dramatically since then. It’s not because of you but because of the Dawn Army. Haven’t you noticed how dire the Empire’s situation is?”
Isaac then realized why there was such a difference in their perceptions.
Isaac hadn’t traveled much within the Gerthonia Empire. After receiving Bishop Juan’s summons to the Norden Port, he traveled by ship, briefly stopped at the stable Rougeberg, and then was dispatched to the Kingdom of Elil. He returned to Ultenheim by ship again and then traveled through the skies on Nel.
This paradoxical situation meant that despite Isaac’s extensive travels, he was unaware of how deteriorated the Empire had become.
“The biggest difference is the pyres. There are no pyres in this city.”
Gebel muttered while standing in the plaza of the Issacrea estate.
“In the current Empire, pyres burn incessantly in every major city. If there’s nothing to burn, they even light sacred fires to keep the flames going, claiming it heightens the Dawn Army’s morale.”
“...Come to think of it, I did see pyres in Syracusa.”
“Swordmaster? Does that mean he became a follower of Elil? No, that can’t be. He didn’t have the talent to become a Swordmaster. He was worse than me!”
“What? He was wielding aura blades. And he was the chief knight of the Imperial Guard.”
Gebel fell silent, his eyes betraying his confusion.
“Is it really Bashul? You didn’t mistake him for someone else?”
“He called himself Bashul, and I confirmed he used the swordsmanship of the Avalanche Knight Order. He also knew about you and claimed he had his reasons back then.”
Isaac recounted Bashul’s explanation to Gebel. Bashul had merely followed the Order’s command to lead the Avalanche Knight Order to its doom, regretted it, and was sharpening his sword to kill the hypocrite who gave him that order.
Gebel remained silent for a long time after hearing the story. After a considerable amount of time, he finally spoke with a heavy tone.
“It doesn’t seem like you mistook someone else. Only Bashul would know that information.”
“Do you believe what he said?”
“If what you said is true, the one who deserves death isn’t Bashul. Bashul wasn’t the type to betray. But there are still some unclear points. Moreover, becoming a Swordmaster... that’s not something you can achieve just because you want to, even as a follower of Elil.”
Isaac agreed.
To become a Swordmaster, one needed to demonstrate extraordinary talent from a young age, but it also required a firm belief and confidence in one’s own strength without the need for miracles. Isaac understood that Gebel wasn’t jealous of an old friend’s growth but was suspicious of the dubious aspects.
“Now that you mention it, Bashul did say during our duel that he had his own trump card. Could it be related to that?”
“Perhaps. Such sudden, inexplicable growth often has a god or angel behind it. If what Bashul said is true... he might have gained something in exchange for becoming a follower of Elil. We’ll have to see when we meet him.”
Though it would be quite offensive to Bashul, Gebel spoke with certainty. He clearly didn’t believe that Bashul’s achievements were due to his own efforts.
“More than that, I put you in a dangerous situation. I apologize. I didn’t expect him to become a Swordmaster...”
“No. It’s fine. Thanks to that, I got to experience a Swordmaster’s skills firsthand.”
The duel with Bashul had been immensely beneficial in the Kingdom of Elil. Learning the swordsmanship and techniques of an aura wielder had helped Isaac survive several times.
“By the way, wasn’t it dangerous for you to come all this way, Gebel?”
Gebel was a deserter and an excommunicated paladin. While few would recognize him, getting caught and interrogated could be troublesome, especially with the Empire increasingly consumed by the Dawn Army’s madness.
Gebel’s expression turned complex at Isaac’s words.
“Actually, I came because I wanted to ask you a favor. I could ask someone else, but I feel safest asking you.”
“A favor? Hmm, that works out well. I also had a favor to ask you.”
“Really? Then let me go first.”
Gebel looked at Isaac seriously and asked.
“Is there a place in the Issacrea Dawn Army for me?”
Isaac’s expression became intricate.
He laughed with an unreadable expression before finally opening his mouth.
“Could you become the swordsmanship instructor for the Issacrea Dawn Army?”
Isaac’s question served as an answer, immediately determining Gebel’s position and role.
Gebel Krantz, the swordsmanship instructor of the Issacrea Army.
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