Chapter 426 - King of the East, Anu

Chapter 426 - King of the East, Anu

The ostensible reason King Anu of the East arrived in Border Guard was Martai, but naturally, there was another agenda at play.

"Has Naurilia gone mad, or is it their newly enthroned king who's lost it? I'll need to figure that out. But first, let's meet this so-called demon slayer."

At eighteen, Anu made a name for himself by hunting lions across the eastern plains. By the time he was fifty, he had gathered his people and founded a nation on the eastern lands—a true hero in every sense.

Yet, this legendary man had one peculiar habit.

Whenever he encountered someone impressive, he tried to bring them to the East. He was obsessed with acquiring talent.

Not that it was always a misfortune for those he brought over.

"Do you regret becoming my brother? Then you're free to leave!"

He was, after all, a man whose bold and jovial personality was unmatched across the continent.

Those who followed him often became Easterners over time, swept up in his charisma and captivated by his ambition and dreams.

His dreams were vast, lofty, and often seemed absurd—but he was making them a reality.

So much so that every inch of the eastern frontier now bore Anu's mark.

Since the age of eighteen, he had devoted every moment of his life to pioneering the East.

Anyone who truly understood his life and witnessed him in action couldn't help but acknowledge his allure.

"A bit stubborn and headstrong, but…"

Anu's brown-skinned lieutenant, Asaluhi, adjusted his turban and mused silently. Regardless of what others said, he deeply respected his king, whose boldness and lack of grudges defined him.

Asaluhi believed his role was to fill the gaps in the king's judgment.

"Let's go. Time to meet this so-called demon-slaying maniac."

Although Enkrid's story had been slightly twisted in its retelling, King Anu wasn't one to harbor biases.

"A maniac obsessed with killing demons, is he? Well, why not?"

Martai was merely an excuse. The real reason was clear—Anu was hungry for talent.

The king had been preoccupied with a few recent developments in the East, but this visit conveniently coincided with a rare period of respite. Perfect timing.

Arriving at Border Guard, it wasn't difficult for him to find his way into the city under a plausible pretense. Finding this Enkrid fellow and entering the military training grounds was even simpler.

"Will he accept any duel request? From anyone at all?"

Asaluhi's question made the soldier size them up, but he didn't seem inclined to stop them.

After all, anyone who had made it this far wasn't someone a soldier could stop. The general himself had issued orders: let them through.

Whether it was an assassin or a duelist, the soldiers had no business interfering if they couldn't handle it themselves.

Of course, the general had added a caveat—if they were eager to fight, no one would stop them. But such enthusiastic soldiers were exceedingly rare.

The soldier finally opened his mouth, prepared to let them pass.

"That's correct."

Anu chuckled heartily and strode in first. The soldier didn't stop him. As a veteran of some experience, he wasn't about to pick a fight with someone who had likely already passed through the Frog Maellun, the city's guard.

The general had also warned them: unless they were confident in defeating Maellun, it was better not to provoke visitors of this caliber.

"Well, he's certainly bold."

As he brushed past the soldier, the king muttered to himself, moving forward without restriction.

The soldier observed the departing figure and couldn't help but think the man seemed oddly excited.

Anu entered the training grounds.

"Interesting."

He was already feeling a surge of exhilaration.

When he met the so-called demon slayer, their presence stirred a sense of competitive spirit in him.

It had been a long time since he'd felt such pure, clean fighting energy.

Normally, Anu wouldn't strike first, but the opponent's aura moved him.

"Why not? I'll indulge myself."

To be precise, he was drawn by the rawness of their determination, which compelled him to act.

Thus began the Eastern Mercenary King's stay with the unit.

"Let's see here."

Surveying the group, Anu couldn't help but let his greed for talent show.

First, there was Rem.

"Natural instincts, this one."

The way he wielded his twin axes was far from ordinary.

Anu referred to those he acknowledged as his "brothers," a tradition dating back to his early days in the East, when his group was known as the "Ochre Turban Brotherhood." The name had stuck ever since.

Even among his brothers, such skill was rare. Though not entirely unprecedented, it was uncommon.

The East was a harsh land, rivaling any magic-infested zone. The uncharted territories were inherently dangerous, teeming with colossal monsters and perilous beasts.

And then there were the flying predators and cunning demon spawn.

Despite these challenges, Rem stood out—a talent even rare in the East. Yet, he wasn't the only one.

And what about Audin?

"Let's test your strength!"

During a spar, they locked hands to measure their might.

"Stronger than a Bloodhide Bear, huh?"

Anu was genuinely impressed. More than that, Audin wasn't just a brute relying on raw power.

"I've seen strong men before…"

When Anu tried to twist his wrist, Audin responded with subtle, skillful techniques.

It wasn't just his strength; his mastery made him exceptional—a rare gem even among Anu's brothers.

Then there was Ragna.

To call someone a genius is to acknowledge their extraordinary talent.

Ragna was undoubtedly a genius.

A being crafted by the heavens, he mimicked and mastered the essence of every skill Anu displayed.

His fundamentals were solid. His swordsmanship with a black greatsword was swift and heavy, making him a formidable opponent for any but the most seasoned knights.

All of this fueled Anu's desire, though it didn't shock him.

Extraordinary instincts. A well-honed body. Fearsome talent.

Rare? Certainly. But not unheard of.

Yet, rarity didn't make them any less desirable.

There was even a talented beastkin and Teresa, a half-giant, among them.

Even Ropord and Fel, the shepherd, caught his eye.

Each one was a talent he coveted.

"Fascinating."

Anu felt a renewed sense of joy.

And then, there was an anomaly.

"A mage, too."

Esther, in human form, had spared him a single glance before losing all interest. She barely acknowledged his presence.

All of this might have been remarkable, but what truly fascinated Anu was the man leading them.

"Defeat."

What does it mean to lose?

Most skilled warriors carried an unyielding pride, and these men were no exception.

Rem, Ragna, Audin—they all fit this mold.

But then there was this one.

"Who is this guy?"

A single man seemed to overturn all negativity in the group.

"Would you care for a duel?"

To lose is to deny one's own ability.

The first thing that struck harder than a competitive spirit was the bitter taste of defeat. It lingered longer, gnawed at one's resolve, whispering like the devil in the corner of the mind.

Such is the nature of negative emotions.

Especially for those utterly shattered before Anu, the sensation was amplified.

Anu acknowledged their stubbornness but didn't reciprocate kindly. Every technique brought before him was crushed.

Yet despite that—

"Busy, are we?"

They charged at him again and again.

Defeat eats away at the soul, more so for the skilled.

But this one was different.

Though Anu wasn't fond of the term "semi knight," even by that standard, his opponent was remarkable—likely among the top ten, even when compared to his own siblings.

And yet, this skilled individual fought without regard for losing.

"Does he lack pride?"

Or perhaps he held something greater than mere pride.

Anu recalled his own past defeats. They hadn't been pleasant, but he hadn't had the time to wallow. There was always a path forward.

It seemed his opponent felt the same.

That familiar scent of resilience, Anu recognized it.

"Let's spar."

The King of the East nodded.

The opponent, unbothered by thoughts of defeat, raised his blade.

Enkrid lost, and Anu won.

A result as inevitable as the dawn.

"Thank you."

Such were the words of the defeated. The fiery resolve in those eyes told Anu it wasn't indifference to losing but a focus on something far greater.

A dream so grand that defeat became but a stepping stone.

"I will pioneer the East," Anu declared.

Enkrid gazed at him, clearly curious about the meaning of his words.

"We'll talk about it next time."

Anu laughed heartily.

The mere thought of bringing these people to the East thrilled him to no end.

Within days, the reason for the Eastern King's visit became clear to all without needing to ask.

"Your skills are impressive. Would you care to join me on an expedition?"

He was openly seeking talent, making no attempt to hide it.

Rem blinked at the offer. He was chopping down a hefty tree to craft a sturdy log chair, getting accustomed to his newly forged axe.

Each swing sent fresh wood chips and sawdust flying as the axe bit into the tree.

Even with such a mundane task, Anu could tell.

"This one wields an axe with remarkable finesse," he thought.

At first, it seemed vaguely familiar, but the more he watched, the more he saw a unique and refined technique.

"If I'm impressive, what does that make you?"

Rem asked casually, his tone as loose as ever. Rank and title mattered little to him, be it king or knight.

"Hardly a comparison."

Anu shook his head.

"And yet, your tone's worse than our captain's."

"…Asalluhi, is this treason? An offense against the crown?"

It was a jest, of course. Even if Anu had been genuinely offended, Rem wouldn't have cared.

"I have some things I need to deal with in the West," Rem resolved.

The thought of confronting Anu without sorcery left him uneasy, which irritated him to no end.

Sure, he wouldn't lose in a real fight, and he'd learned a thing or two from their sparring, but something still felt off.

"Yes, I'll go to the West," Rem reaffirmed.

The King wasn't foolish; he knew how to exploit weaknesses.

To Rem, he bantered like an equal, but with Ragna, he hit where it hurt most.

"So, would you care to help me navigate the East?"

"You need a guide?"

"Indeed, I do."

"Finding shortcuts and forging new paths is my specialty, but I'm occupied at the moment."

Once annoyed, Ragna was even worse than Rem. If his mind was made up, there was no persuading him. His resolve was as unyielding as Audin's iron fists.

But the King remained tireless, extending similar offers to everyone he met.

When he encountered Dunbakel, his boldness reached new heights.

"Want to be my daughter?"

"And why would I?"

Dunbakel replied in a manner reminiscent of Rem.

"Or would you prefer to be my wife? Apologies, but I have no need for a partner."

"What nonsense is this? I don't like old men."

The King of the East wasn't one to take offense. He simply laughed heartily.

Everyone had a similar thought: What kind of man is this King of the East?

No one wondered this more than Krais.

"Your Majesty, King of the East! Is it true? Does gold really pile up like mountains in the East?"

The King chuckled once again.

"You? I have no need for you."

His priorities were clear—he sought skilled fighters.

His lieutenant, Asalluhi, seemed unfazed, clearly accustomed to such antics.

Ragna watched the two combatants finish their sparring session.

"A simple thrust can appear extraordinary if you adjust the tempo."

What was technique, after all?

At its core, it was nothing more than the means to pierce or cut the target before you.

Ragna delved inward, reflecting deeply.

His talent wasn't just exceptional; it was unparalleled. It was hard to imagine anyone possessing greater natural ability.

Though he could progress without external motivation, the presence of a catalyst in his path amplified his drive.

He reconsidered everything he had learned, discarding the unnecessary and refining the rest.

Lying on his cot, he gazed outside.

The Madmen Unit's training field was directly connected to the barracks, a design feature that allowed for such moments.

Despite the dust, the proximity was convenient—a sentiment Enkrid had voiced, and Krais had accounted for when designing the layout.

Thanks to this, Ragna could observe the training field and lose himself in his thoughts about swordsmanship.

From the outside, however, it seemed like he was simply lazing around.

"That bastard's slacking again. Knew it wouldn't last," Rem remarked, carving a table after finishing his log chair.

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