The Son-In-Law of the Magician Is a Transcendent Sword Master - Chapter 155

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 155
Seila had always done only what others told her to do. Her father was hardly worthy of being called a good parent, even in jest, and her mother, whose name she never knew, had abandoned her in childhood.
Her father, an executioner by trade, reeked of blood to his very bones, and because of that, Seila had been despised and scorned even by the orphans of the Back Alley from an early age.
After her father’s death, she was sold to the Stork Mercenary Company as an orphan, and nothing changed. The members of the Stork Mercenary Company were equally vile. Though her circumstances had shifted, what Seila was expected to do remained the same.
To obey orders. To fulfill them without question.
But perhaps as she’d grown older and wiser.
Today, for the first time in her life, Seila had rebelled, and this was the consequence.
“You’re really planning to confront the Mercenary Company head-on?”
“That’s the plan.”
Seila asked in disbelief.
Reagan was now retracing the path they’d fled down.
Meanwhile, following Reagan with a light, confident stride was the golden-haired woman, Lyrnia von Benheim.
Seila couldn’t comprehend this situation at all. She’d heard plenty about how prestigious and powerful the Benheim Noble House was.
So why would someone from that great house go to such lengths for a lowly mercenary with no connections whatsoever?
“Seila?”
Lyrnia suddenly turned her head to look at Seila.
“You’ve got quite the bewildered expression on your face, don’t you?”
“I, well… I…”
“You can speak freely, you know.”
Even so, if she was from Benheim, she must have noble blood. Could someone as lowborn as herself really speak so casually to her?
Lyrnia spoke to the hesitant Seila.
“There’s nothing to worry about. See that man over there? He’s my husband.”
“Reagan…?”
“Yeah. He’s a commoner too.”
“…A commoner… who’s a mage?”
“Surprising, right? I think so too.”
She’d always thought magic was the exclusive domain of the nobility.
Seila’s curiosity deepened. Who were these two really, and why were they stirring up trouble with the Stork Mercenary Company? How had they even discovered that Captain Gord was cooperating with the Black Mage?
Questions piled upon questions. Seila hadn’t fled and was following these two partly because she’d been swept up in the moment, but also because of these very questions.
“Oh, Seila. I heard that… you were sold to the Mercenary Company as a child and had a hard life?”
“Y, yes.”
“Reagan went through something similar. I think that’s probably why he decided to help you. Though honestly, it seems like there’s another reason behind it… but when Reagan makes that kind of expression, asking won’t get me anywhere.”
Lyrnia joked and added, “So I gave up trying.”
Seila nodded quietly. Reagan was in the same situation as she was.
This might have been why Reagan had referred to himself as both a mercenary and a mage earlier.
“So, once this is all resolved, what do you want to do, Seila?”
“…What?”
“You’ll be free from the Mercenary Company. Now you can live doing what you actually want to do.”
“What I want to do…?”
Seila’s expression went blank.
I had never once considered such a thing since birth.
From childhood, I had done only as my father commanded, and even after becoming a foot soldier in the Mercenary Group, I moved only as they directed.
And so….
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“I don’t really know what I want to do…”
Seila brushed away the handle of the nodachi strapped to her back.
A keepsake left by her father. In truth, carrying this heavy, crude blade wasn’t because she had been particularly close to her father in life.
It simply felt like something she ought to do, and since everyone else did the same, she had unconsciously followed suit.
In the end, Seila had never chosen anything of her own volition.
The thought suddenly made her fear the freedom that might one day find her.
“…Seila?”
In that moment, Renia called out to Seila. Only then did she come to her senses and lift her head.
They had already entered the main street.
Across the intersection, every member of the Mercenary Group stood gathered, glaring at them with menacing expressions.
Though momentarily intimidated by their stares, Reagan walked forward toward them with composure. He then reached into his garment, and a massive cloak was drawn out.
Until moments before, he had appeared merely a fledgling mercenary, but now, draped in the cloak, Reagan was unmistakably a Mage.
Meanwhile, Renia looked directly at Seila and continued speaking.
“Seila, you said you don’t know what you want to do, right?”
“Yeah. I….”
“It’s fine. If you don’t have anything you want to do, just do whatever’s right in front of you. That’s what life is for, isn’t it?”
Renia gave a light wink and followed after Reagan.
Left alone, Seila slowly drew her nodachi.
Then she weighed whether to join this fight or not.
‘…I’d probably just get in the way.’
In the end, Seila sheathed her nodachi again.
* * *
“What did you talk about with Seila on the way here?”
“Just… about living in this world?”
“About living in this world?”
“Yeah. That girl kind of… reminded me of Rashek.”
“Apologize to Seila later.”
“It’s just a feeling, just a feeling.”
Renia chuckled and stepped up beside me.
I fixed my gaze ahead.
The wide intersection of the Mercenary District was filled with the entire force of the Stork Mercenary Company arrayed in formation. Their numbers exceeded fifty at a glance. Every last one of them was an Aura user.
With such a commotion unfolding, one might expect the city authorities to send people to manage it, yet not a single passerby was visible.
‘So this really is a mercenary city.’
The Stork Mercenary Company had apparently already seized complete control of the street, whether through bribes or coercion.
The fact that the Alliance Subjugation Force was stationed in this city should have been known, yet they dared such a bold move—which meant they were desperate in their own way.
“Fair point.”
Now that my collusion with the Black Mages had been exposed, risking my life was hardly unreasonable.
Conversely, this moment represented a golden opportunity to annihilate the Stork Mercenary Company in one fell swoop.
“What do you think, Reagan? There are quite a few of them.”
At Lyrnia’s question, I shrugged.
“I’m used to it.”
“Used to it?”
“Yeah. It’s always been this way.”
It was the same when fighting the Chimera Sorcerers, the same against the Dark Mages.
Truth be told, it had been this way even in my past life. Renia’s Resistance always fought at a numerical disadvantage. Every time, our strategy remained constant.
“Lyrnia, you handle the foot soldiers. It’s your specialty.”
“Well, I’m not sure if I’d call it a specialty, but… I’m not lacking in confidence.”
“Right. I’ll take the Captain and his elite guard.”
In my past life, Lyrnia’s Rune magic was optimized for wide-scale annihilation, while my lightning-swift swordplay specialized in one-on-one duels against elite opponents.
It was why we had been soulmates on the battlefield.
“I’m counting on you to cover our rear.”
“Got it.”
Seila, our sole weakness, had shrewdly retreated and was observing our battle from a distance.
I drew the Sword of Benheim and advanced toward Gord.
Gord, his face wrapped in bandages, grimaced the moment he saw me. The wrapping had turned crimson where blood seeped from his broken nose.
“I’ll chew you up and swallow you whole.”
He spoke with murderous intent, and I merely shrugged.
“Do you have the ability to back that up?”
“…A mere whelp, and now you’ve lost all sense of fear.”
At Gord’s gesture, four men who had been guarding his side stepped forward.
Shing.
They drew their blades in unison. Aura rippled across the steel—its density was impressive.
Sword Experts.
They were elite worthy of the Stork Mercenary Company’s reputation as Eltora’s finest.
“Fool.”
Gord spoke.
From their perspective, I must have looked foolish—fleeing before, now walking back into the jaws of death.
But then and now were different. I no longer had Seila to protect behind me, and I carried Andvari’s Cube in my possession, capable of producing any weapon I needed.
Moreover, I now possessed some confidence in fighting multiple opponents.
All thanks to this cloak.
Whoooosh——.
The Archmage King’s cloak billowed, and my vision “opened.” The world’s colors vanished, replaced by a bird’s-eye schematic composed of black and white points and lines. Every object and presence within several meters of my surroundings came into my complete awareness.
Thinking I was attempting some trick, Gord shouted.
“Kill him! By any means necessary! Don’t worry about the consequences!”
Five mercenaries, Gord included, rushed at me simultaneously. They dispersed methodically, targeting every blind spot in my field of vision.
However, at present, I had no blind spots.
—Whoosh.
I wove a mana blade through blade-shaping magic and gripped it in my left hand. Having faced the Chimera and corpse golem in succession, I had developed considerable proficiency in dual-wielding.
Clang!
Crash!
I intercepted two sword strikes coming from the right with my aura-clad blade. So this is what a Sword Expert truly was. The impact sent a tingling shock through my sword hand, but I leveraged that recoil to spin my body half a rotation.
Thanks to that, I could now lock eyes directly with the mercenary who had been probing my left blind spot.
“Ugh!”
He had been absolutely convinced I was right-handed and was swinging his blade carelessly, so when our eyes met, he hurriedly tried to withdraw his sword and stumble backward.
But it was already too late. I intended to teach him a lesson: against a true master, it matters little whether one wields a blade with their left or right hand.
Squelch!
“Aaaaagh!”
My left-hand mana blade severed his wrist in a single stroke.
Yet their assault was far from over. I had to parry Gord’s incoming blade strike from the front. However, both my hands were already occupied fending off other attackers, leaving no openings.
So I planted my left foot firmly into the ground and swung my right leg with tremendous force, sweeping it against Gord’s blade.
It was the Maelern-style leg strike technique.
“Tch! This bastard…!”
Gord’s eyes widened in shock—he had never imagined that a single kick could repel his aura-infused blade.
Keeping one’s eyes open during combat and tracking an opponent’s movements is the hallmark of an excellent swordsman.
But in this moment, it was a fatal mistake.
I dispersed the mana blade in my left hand and drew the Eclat I had hidden in my sleeve.
Then….
—Flash.
An intense brilliance born from spectrum magic swept across the surroundings.
It was an attack they never anticipated, and since the location was a dark night street devoid of any light source, the mercenaries who faced the flash directly squeezed their eyes shut in unison, their retinas burning with pain.
I did not miss that fleeting instant and swung my blade.
“Aah!”
I deeply severed the leg tendons of a nearby mercenary.
That left three.
“Damn it! Attack all at once!”
Only then did Gord, his vision restored, curse and order a coordinated assault. Since the tactic of exploiting blind spots had failed, he apparently intended to try a contest of pure strength.
But that too was a fatal blunder. My swift blade’s greatest advantage lay in direct confrontation.
Thrust!
I lowered my body and drove my blade forward without any preparatory motion. The mercenary could not even react before his abdomen was pierced.
“Ugh!”
It did not end there. My blade, bursting through his abdomen, swept across the lower belly of the mercenary following behind him.
The two mercenaries struck at their vital points spewed forth some yellowish liquid from their mouths and collapsed. As they writhed and convulsed on the ground, I approached Gord slowly.
“Now only two remain.”
“…W-what.”
Gord’s face drained of color as he stumbled backward.
Five Sword Experts had fallen to a single swordsman of equivalent rank—the fact seemed incomprehensible to those who witnessed it.
But what could be done? Magic was one thing, but when it came to the blade, I had already transcended such limitations.
These upstart brats who boasted merely because they’d reached the rank of Sword Expert—at my current level, I could dispatch ten of them without breaking a sweat.
“This is insane…. Who… exactly are you….”
“Surrender.”
Gord’s expression darkened considerably.
“Surrender? You’re telling me to surrender right now?”
“Yes. You can’t defeat me anyway. But if you yield, perhaps—just perhaps—you might preserve your life.”
“Don’t spout nonsense! You think I don’t know you killed Gerkin!”
Gord’s voice erupted in fury, his shoulders trembling as he continued.
“Damn it…. These lowborn wretches…. They crawl upward without knowing their place….”
“Stop your grumbling and lower that blade. Your wrist will be severed.”
“Shut your mouth!”
Gord bellowed and adjusted his grip on the sword. Then he opened his mouth wide.
In that instant, my expanded field of vision—granted by the cloak—caught sight of a small pill wedged behind his molars.
‘That is….’
A phantom pill emanating dark, murky energy.
The very elixir the Beast Face Society of the Southern Forest had given to the aquatic operatives of the Apsache.
I had to stop him.
I raised my blade in desperation, but there was no way—no matter how swift I was—to extract a pill already lodged in the enemy’s mouth.
Crunch.
Gord bit down hard on the pill with his molars.
Immediately after, a murky haze seeped into both of his eyes.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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