Chapter 37 Leben

  The following day, Iryoku was feeling noticeably better. Though still weak, he could now walk on his own. In his hands, he twirled two small daggers, testing their weight and balance, trying to familiarize himself with them.

  "These will have to suffice for now," he muttered to himself.

  Mark stepped out of the house, spotting Iryoku nearby. With a grin, he approached.

  "How are you feeling, little bro?" he asked, his tone lighthearted.

  "I think I’ll be fine… soon," Iryoku replied, though there was still a trace of exhaustion in his voice. His body, while stronger than before, still looked frail.

  Mark sat down on a nearby rock, watching as Iryoku flexed his fingers. The white cord was wrapped tightly around his arm, its blade glinting in the light.

  "Iryoku, bro, how did you do that thing with the white rope?" Mark asked, curiosity clear in his voice. "It was so fast… and deadly."

  Iryoku glanced down at the cord, his fingers absentmindedly brushing over it.

  "I'm not entirely sure," he admitted. "I think it's because of the rope’s material. I can only do it with this cord—not with any other weapon."

  As if responding to his thoughts, the cord suddenly shot out in a blur, glowing brightly as it extended several feet before snapping back into his hand with precise control.

  Mark's eyes widened in excitement. "That’s incredible! Back in the army, only high-ranking soldiers can use Leben like that."

  Iryoku’s expression shifted, caught off guard by the term. "Leben?" he repeated.

  "Yeah," Mark nodded. "That’s what people call it—the ability to harness magic power over a weapon or even coat your body with it." He leaned forward, his voice lowering slightly. "Everyone is supposed to have some form of Leben within them, but being able to channel it into something visible and tangible? That’s a whole different level of power."

  Iryoku murmured under his breath, "The power of one's will..." as he recalled Reika's words and the many enemies he had faced who wielded similar abilities.

  "Something like that," Mark agreed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Though I’m not exactly sure how it differs from regular magic spells. I only picked up bits and pieces about it from my time in the army..."

  His expression grew more serious as he looked down, lost in thought.

  Just then, Maggie and Walter stepped out of the house and joined them. Seeing the shift in Mark’s demeanor, the atmosphere became noticeably heavier.

  Sensing where Mark’s thoughts were drifting—to something painful—Iryoku quickly changed the subject.

  "I’ll be leaving tomorrow," he announced.

  Mark looked up in surprise.

  "But you’re not fully recovered yet," Maggie protested.

  "You might get hurt," Mark added, concern in his voice.

  Iryoku exhaled, his hoarse voice barely above a whisper. "The worry is eating me alive. I need to go find my girls… I won’t be at peace until I know if they’re okay."

  Mark, understanding the weight of his decision, gave him a firm nod. "Don’t worry—if you ever need anything, we’ll help you."

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Maggie, however, was curious. "And how do your girls look?" she asked.

  Iryoku’s face brightened slightly, the second trace of warmth they had seen from him. "Well, they’re all beautiful," he said, his tone almost nostalgic.

  "Yumi is short, with black hair, giant boobs, and a nice, big butt. She’s an archer—very timid—and if you see her, don’t stare at her boobs. They’re mine," Iryoku added instinctively, shooting a glance at Mark.

  Mark raised his hands in defense, his face contorted in confusion. "Why are you looking at me? I’m married!"

  Ignoring him, Iryoku continued.

  "Reika is slim and well-proportioned, with medium-sized boobs and a nice butt—long legs, long black hair. She thinks she knows everything. She’s a mage."

  "And then there’s Alessandra—the muscle woman. She’s tall, red-haired, with big boobs, a big butt, and thick thighs. She wears heavy armor and acts all high and mighty, like a protector." He chuckled slightly at the thought.

  Maggie and Mark exchanged glances, feeling a little weirded out. Just days ago, this man had been gloomy and serious, barely speaking. Now, he was suddenly cracking perverted jokes with a nostalgic grin on his face.

  They turned to Walter, who simply smiled. "It’s good to be young," he said, having already seen the girls before.

  Iryoku, smirking, didn’t miss a beat. "If you see them, call them your sisters-in-law."

  Mark and Maggie exchanged amused glances before nodding with a smile.

  The Next Morning

  Right outside the village, Iryoku was preparing a horse for his journey. A bag filled with food and supplies was strapped to the saddle.

  He had chosen to wear simple villager clothes instead of armor. Mark had offered him his own, but Iryoku declined. He preferred lighter clothing—if he needed to run, he had to stay agile. In his current state, it was better to appear weak and unassuming, avoiding unnecessary attention.

  As he adjusted the straps on his bag, he took one last look at the family and the village that had sheltered him. It was time to go.

  "Thanks for everything," he said simply before turning away and beginning his journey back to the castle.

  After hours of riding, he decided to stop and rest. Guiding his horse off the main path, he found a secluded spot within the forest. He dismounted and tied the reins to a sturdy tree before settling down on the ground, leaning his back against the rough bark.

  He let out a weary sigh. Something feels off. He hadn’t even made it halfway, yet the journey already felt longer than expected. The first time he traveled this route with Roghan pulling the carriage, the trip had been quick and smooth.

  "He really was a big help," Iryoku murmured, his expression melancholic as he recalled his fallen companion.

  Suddenly, his white cord shot forward with lightning speed, impaling itself into a tree across from him. A sharp, wet piercing sound followed. The cord quickly retracted, and in its grasp was a large, hand-sized spider, twitching as it hung limply from the blade.

  Iryoku frowned, shaking the creature off and scraping his blade against the dirt to clean it.

  "At least my danger perception is still working," he muttered, pulling out a small fruit and taking a bite.

  As he lingered in thought, his eyes drifted, lost for a moment. With a deep breath, he stood up, dusted himself off, and continued his journey.

  After a few more hours of travel, the road grew busier. More and more people filled the path—peddlers in carriages, knights on patrol, and mercenaries scattered throughout the area. Iryoku scanned their faces, searching for anyone familiar, but found no one he recognized.

  It’s livelier than before… he thought, his expression serious as the towering outer walls of the capital finally came into view.

  At the city's entrance, a group of knights inspected those coming in. The last time he had been here, the situation was entirely different. Leaving the city back then had been easy, and everything had felt new and unfamiliar.

  After a thorough inspection, the knights allowed him inside. Iryoku’s face was now filled with conviction. His heartbeat quickened as he made his way toward the city's center, passing bustling streets filled with vendors, inns, and countless people. The capital seemed to be recovering—more vibrant than before.

  "Everything will be okay," he murmured to himself, steadying his resolve.

  But as he neared the castle’s outer wall, his expression wavered. Sadness flashed across his eyes before twisting into anger.

  A massive, perfectly diagonal gash had been carved into the ground near the castle—undeniable evidence of the destruction caused by the dragon. As Iryoku approached, his gaze swept over the offerings and flowers carefully placed around the ruined area. A small crowd had gathered, their heads bowed in solemn prayer.

  "Thank God… for saving the people…" someone murmured.

  Iryoku’s eye twitched. His fists clenched. His jaw tightened as he ground his teeth, his fury barely contained.

  In a low, venomous voice, he muttered, "Someday, I will kill you," his glare fixed on the massive scar in the earth.

  Taking a slow, steady breath, he forced himself to move forward. Pushing past his rage, he walked toward the castle gates.

  His sharp eyes scanned the towering structure, observing every detail—until something caught his attention.

  Near a high window, a beautiful blonde woman in a flowing white dress sat leisurely, eating without a care in the world.