The Indomitable Martial King

Chapter 133

[ Chapter 133 ]

With a pitiful expression on his face, Repenhardt suddenly tilted his head toward Silan.

“By the way, what is Siris doing over there?”

Under a large tree in the clearing a short distance away, an elf girl with platinum blonde hair and brown skin was squatting. She was facing a translucent figure of another girl.

Repenhardt pursed his lips.

“Um… socializing?”

Siris was fervently pleading.

“I’m sorry, Sarana, okay? Please forgive me.”

In front of her, the translucent girl, the wind spirit Sarana, had a pouty face and kept snorting in annoyance.

“…Hmph hmph!”

Siris had originally been training in spirit summoning in this clearing, just like Silan. Unlike the Danhaim tribe, who only mastered the fire spirits, she had already reached the level of summoning three of the seven major spirits: the wind spirit Sarana, the fire spirit Ignatius, and the water spirit Nymphia. This was largely due to her contract with the magic bow Nihillen. Of course, her proficiency was still not as great as the older elves who had spent many years in practice, so Ignatius was only the size of a human.

After practicing by summoning Ignatius and Nymphia, she had called upon the wind spirit Sarana. However, it seemed that Sarana remembered Siris’s ‘atrocities’ from being overused recently. Apparently, spirits had a better memory than goldfish.

“It was a life-or-death battle, so I had no choice. We’re friends, right? You’re going to forgive me, aren’t you?”

“…Hmph hmph hmph!”

Sweating profusely, she tried to soothe Sarana, but the spirit did not ease her expression. Eventually, Sarana faded away, disappearing ‘with the wind’ as the saying goes.

“Darn…”

Biting her thumb and frowning, Siris heard a soft voice behind her.

“See, I told you she’d be mad?”

After glaring at the triumphant-looking Repenhardt, Siris stood up and shrugged her shoulders.

“Well, if I call her again in about two days, she’ll forget everything. Even though their memory is better than goldfish, spirits still have their limits.”

“…Are you really friends with the spirits?”

“Ho ho ho, true friendship is about accepting each other’s strengths and weaknesses.”

Seeing Siris smile sweetly, Repenhardt felt a strange chill. He shivered slightly.

‘Was she always like this?’

It seemed like her true nature was being revealed more and more as time passed. Ah, so her personality in her previous life was all just a facade!

As Siris approached Repenhardt with a bright smile, her expression suddenly calmed down.

“The prince of Carsus is no ordinary person. As a knight, a commander, and a leader.”

“That’s to be expected.”

He was originally destined to be a wise king remembered in the history of the Crovence Kingdom.

“Actually, wouldn’t it make the people of Crovence happier if Prince Carsus became king?”

“That’s something we can’t know for sure.”

Repenhardt shook his head with a serious expression.

“Just because someone excels at everything doesn’t mean they’d make a good king.”

A king isn’t someone who can do everything.

A king is someone who governs.

It’s not about possessing extraordinary abilities, but rather about effectively managing those who do. That is the true mark of a great king.

In essence, the ability to place the right people in the right positions is the core of rulership. Of course, being able to do everything oneself might imply an excellent eye for choosing experts, which could also make one a great king, but that’s just one of many factors and not the most crucial one.

Simply put, as long as one avoids selecting fools or those with ulterior motives, they can generally be a good king. Of course, since this is the hardest part, good kings are rare, and that’s why sycophants run rampant…

“Prince Yubel can also be a good king.”

With Finia, the high-performance lie detector, by his side, Yubel can at least distinguish between loyalists and traitors just as well as Carsus. Moreover, he possesses the fairness to firmly reject any flattering words if they are lies.

“There are plenty of rulers who, despite knowing better, make foolish decisions swayed by the praise before them. If the prince can avoid that, he can be an excellent king.”

Siris nodded, seemingly understanding. But what she wanted to discuss wasn’t about Prince Yubel’s qualifications.

Siris suddenly fixed a sharp gaze on him and asked,

“Is it really something you don’t know?”

“Hmm?”

“You mentioned before that Prince Carsus was originally supposed to ascend to the throne.”

With a calm yet hawk-like piercing gaze, Siris continued her interrogation.

“The future is generally unknown. But do you really not know? You?”

Repenhardt closed his eyes and sighed.

“Yes, in fact, after Carsus became king, the Crovence Kingdom enjoyed considerable peace and prosperity.”

And he added silently to himself,

‘I was the one who shattered that era of peace, though.’

Indeed, until the flames of war ignited by the Antares Empire engulfed the entire continent, the Crovence Kingdom was one of the most prosperous nations on the continent.

“Then, he is the true king destined by fate.”

Siris murmured in a melancholic voice.

“If only someone from another time hadn’t toyed with his fate…”

Her words pierced the corner of his heart, a feeling that had lingered since he joined the war. Repenhardt had chosen Prince Yubel for the sake of other races, but in doing so, he had mocked the rightful human king and the destiny of an entire nation.

‘If only Carsus had been a tyrant, I could have proceeded without any qualms…’

“Are you going to kill him?”

“I originally planned to…”

Repenhardt trailed off. Siris was right.

Was it not enough to mock a man’s destiny, but did he also have to take his life?

For his dream, did he really have to go this far?

Of course, he was prepared to make any sacrifice. That resolve hadn’t changed. But, was the sacrifice of Carsus truly necessary right now?

“I don’t know. He is indeed too valuable a man to be killed by someone like me.”

Repenhardt fell into deep thought. Siris, with a calm expression, closed her lips and silently watched him. It was then.

“Mage-nim!”

A soldier came running from the other side of the clearing. Repenhardt had ordered no one to approach unless it was urgent, so something must have happened. The entire group looked on with guarded expressions. However, the soldier’s face did not seem to indicate a grave matter. He appeared confused and surprised, but not frightened.

“What is it?”

The soldier, upon approaching, gave a quick bow and spoke.

“There is a woman here to see you.”

“Huh? Me?”

“No, specifically, she came to see the young saint, but…”

The soldier made an awkward face, scratching his cheek as he looked up at Repenhardt’s imposing figure.

“Still, it seems like she came to see you…”

“What are you talking about?”

Perplexed, Repenhardt headed to the reception room where the guest awaited. As he opened the door and entered, the woman sitting on the sofa stood up to greet him. She was a beauty with soft black hair and dark eyes. It seemed she had been informed beforehand, as she recognized Repenhardt and greeted him politely.

“Nice to meet you, Lord Repenhardt. I am Christine, a paladin serving Lord Seiya.”

In that moment, Repenhardt immediately understood why the soldier had been so ambiguous.

‘Huh? Does Teslon have a sister?’

Of course, her greeting indicated that this was their first meeting, so that couldn’t be the case. Nonetheless, the thought crossed his mind unavoidably.

The beautiful woman before him was none other than the one who had ‘made eye contact’ with Repenhardt. Already troubled by his height, which was approaching 2 meters, Repenhardt had been anxious lately. Despite not practicing the so-called ‘Height Acceleration Breathing Technique’ learned from Gym Unbreakable, the ruthless body of Teslon continued to grow relentlessly.

‘No way, how can someone keep growing into their mid-20s like this!’

These days, he couldn’t sleep well, fearing he might turn into a 230-centimeter brute like Teslon from his past life. Yet, the alluring beauty before him was nearly as massive as Repenhardt himself.

Despite his surprise, Repenhardt tried to compose his expression and scrutinized the woman. Though she was dressed like a traveler, unlike a holy knight, the sword at Christine’s side was unmistakably the one used only by the holy knights of the main god Seiya. The hilt bore an engraving of clouds and thunder, confirming her identity.

“Oh, I see. But what brings a holy knight serving the main god Seiya to me?”

Christine responded with a wry smile.

“The person I’m looking for is the priest of Philanence, Sillan Phil Marcis. I understand why you might be mistaken, though.”

“May I ask why you are looking for Sillan?”

Christine was about to answer when Sillan, accompanied by Siris, entered the room.

“Someone was looking for me….”

Christine and Sillan’s eyes met. Instantly, Sillan turned pale and screamed.

“Ah! Christine!”

“Oh, Sillan!”

Christine’s face blossomed into a radiant smile at the sight of Sillan. The stunning beauty’s smile seemed to brighten the entire room, perhaps excessively so due to her imposing size.

Christine opened her arms wide and approached Sillan with a voice full of love.

“My love, how long will you run from destiny?”

With a look of a rabbit trapped in a lion’s den, Sillan retreated frantically.

“Why am I your love?”

“Because our meeting is destiny.”

“No, I mean, why is it destiny?”

Repenhardt and Siris exchanged bewildered glances as they watched the two. Sillan, who remained calm even in the face of a ghoul’s claws and the devil’s blade, was now sweating profusely in extreme fear—a sight worth paying to see.

“Eeeek!”

Finally, Sillan, continuing to back away, hurriedly fled the room. Repenhardt blocked Christine, who was about to chase after him with glowing eyes. He couldn’t help but ask this one question.

“What exactly is your relationship with Sillan?”

Sending a reproachful look at Repenhardt for blocking her, Christine answered clearly.

“In the name of the great god, we are betrothed.”

“What!?”

* * *

In his quarters, Sillan was frantically packing his belongings.

“I have to escape, I need to leave this place quickly.”

His usual neat appearance was nowhere to be seen as he haphazardly shoved clothes and travel items into his bag. At that moment, a large shadow fell over him, and a voice called out from behind.

“Hey, Sillan.”

“Ahhh!”

Sillan screamed and tried to run, but thick fingers clamped down on his shoulder.

“It’s me, Repenhardt.”

“Oh, Mr. Repen.”

Finally, Sillan stopped struggling and turned around, his face pale. Repenhardt and Siris shook their heads at the sight. How out of it must he have been to not even recognize Repenhardt’s voice?

“W-where is Christine? Where is she?”

“She’s waiting in the reception room for now. So calm down.”

Repenhardt patted the bed, trying to soothe Sillan, who kept glancing around nervously. Taking deep breaths, Sillan slumped down on the edge of the bed.

“What’s going on? Were you really engaged?”

“Haah…”

With a deep sigh, Sillan began to stammer out an explanation.