The Greatest Warrior of All Time Returns

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Chapter 5

“Hey.”

I ask a question into the air.

[Please, call me Librarian.]

“There were some techniques based on aura among those halls, weren’t there?”

If my knowledge isn’t wrong, even spear masters and bow masters who appear occasionally in society use aura.

Some fields even combine aura and mana.

[That is correct.]

“So, if the foundational energy increases each time I regain a memory, does that mean my aura will also grow here?”

[That is correct.]

I realized anew how insane this space I was in truly was.

At the same time, I grew uneasy—if I didn’t start managing my aura now, it might become entirely uncontrollable later.

Thanks to the aura circulating on its own, even without my intervention, my body was beginning to strengthen rapidly.

I picked up a wooden training sword nearby, lost in thought.

It felt absurdly light.

The core of the blade was reinforced with heavy iron, so it should have been quite weighty.

But now, it felt as light as a thin stick of wood in my hand.

I closed my eyes and focused, trying to swing the sword.

But—

“Ah… I’m too tired for this.”

I couldn’t help but put the sword down, irritated by the overwhelming fatigue that had been washing over me.

Even though my body had just started to strengthen, living beings need sleep to survive.

The problem was that I couldn’t fall asleep.

“I should focus on figuring out how to sleep first.”

As I was thinking this—

“Young Master Leon.”

“Hm?”

Turning my head, I saw one of the maids hurrying toward me.

“The young lady is calling for you.”

“Sigh… Alright.”

Currently, it wasn’t me leading the family after our parents’ deaths, but Melissa.

The reason was simple.

To be the successor of the Northern Border Count family, one had to be at least a Sword Expert, recognized by the royal court.

Before I fell into the Labyrinth, I hadn’t even properly held a sword, let alone used aura.

I had no talent for it and didn’t bother with physically demanding tasks I wasn’t suited for.

On the other hand, Melissa had shown exceptional talent with aura since she was young.

At the age of sixteen, she achieved the rank of Sword Expert, making her capabilities clear.

Unlike other noble families, the Border Count family, responsible for defending the nation’s territory, prioritized skill over tradition.

That was why Melissa, the eldest daughter, became the successor instead of me, the eldest son.

“You’re here?”

Melissa, her face buried in documents and looking exhausted from lack of sleep, raised her head.

“You look like you haven’t been sleeping.”

“Don’t be annoying. I’m getting enough rest, so don’t worry about it.”

“Can I really not worry?”

I casually sat down on a nearby sofa and turned my gaze to the desk.

There lay the search request for our parents and youngest sibling.

The search request targeted the whereabouts of Count Cascadia, his wife, and our youngest sibling, Arsha Cascadia.

It had been six months since the accident that led to their presumed deaths.

Despite the certainty of their passing, Melissa hadn’t given up on the search.

“Still at it?”

“…I have to be. It’s not like we can be absolutely sure they’re dead.”

I couldn’t ignore the fact that these search efforts were gradually draining the Border Count family’s already limited resources.

“I won’t call it foolish, not when I’d want to keep searching too.”

The search cost a lot of money, but if it was keeping her going, how could I object?

“Thanks for understanding. But look at this first.”

She handed me a document with a weary tone.

“You remember the weapon business our family manages, right? Recently, Verus, the dwarf managing it, submitted his resignation, saying he can’t extend the contract anymore.”

I flipped through the document as she spoke.

The Cascadia territory had several infrastructures.

Among them, Verus’s weapon shop had long supplied the family with weapons and generated significant profit by selling them to other regions.

Our family had invested in it initially and continued to provide regular funding.

“If it were simply a matter of poor circumstances, I wouldn’t think much of it. But Verus’s weapon shop has been doing well. The sudden change feels off.”

“Hm…”

“I suspect external pressure. I’ll assign an escort, so could you look into it? Normally, I’d go myself, but…”

“Other issues?”

“There are too many similar cases… I can’t afford to step away. Honestly, we’re stretched too thin. Please, you’re the only one I can trust with this.”

Given how busy she was, it wasn’t easy for her to handle everything personally.

Since I had been helping out occasionally anyway, I didn’t particularly object.

Her mention of external pressure wasn’t baseless.

Before I fell into the Labyrinth, I’d noticed similar patterns in the business reports.

“This feels like trouble brewing.”

“I have a bad feeling about it. If you notice anything strange, withdraw immediately. Don’t get reckless and end up hurt.”

How did I handle things in the past?

I’d stepped up but hadn’t been thrilled about it.

After experiencing the Labyrinth, though, even tasks like this felt strangely precious.

“And Leon.”

“What?”

“You are getting enough sleep, right? Your skin looks terrible.”

Was she one to talk, given she clearly wasn’t sleeping either?

External pressure, though…

It wasn’t surprising.

After Father’s death, the current state of the count’s territory was nothing short of a tempting feast for opportunists.

* * *

The Cascadia territory was a fairly substantial domain.

Surrounded by natural fortress-like walls, it was a hub for many adventurers.

But now, the territory was different.

“It’s lifeless. No vitality at all.”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing important. Wasn’t the Verus weapon shop just ahead?”

“Yes, it is.”

The faces of the street vendors were grim, and there were no children running around.

If the market, where commoners primarily bought and sold goods, was in this state, it was obvious what the condition of other areas would be.

With fewer people coming into the territory, the economy naturally collapses, making life tougher.

This was a borderland territory near a demonic realm to begin with.

Compared to other cities, it was already at a disadvantage in terms of vibrancy, but it hadn’t always been this bleak before.

What stood out the most was the strikingly reduced number of mercenaries and other external personnel entering the city.

Sure, fewer people would come if there was no money to be made, but mercenaries were pragmatic.

They had no reason to linger if they determined staying here was unprofitable.

As we ventured further into the quiet streets, a decently sized but rather shabby weapon shop came into view.

“A weapon shop managed by the Count’s family, and it’s in this sorry state.”

I reached for the door of the shop without hesitation.

Clunk, clunk.

Closed?

It’s closed at this hour?

The Verus weapon shop I knew didn’t close at this time.

When communication becomes impossible, it’s a hassle to figure things out.

This shop was operated by a dwarven craftsman and traditionally received investments from the Count’s family, producing weapons for local use and export to other territories.

They said maintaining contracts was getting harder, but this is just pathetic.

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“What’s going on? Why is there no one here?”

“Perhaps they’ve stepped out temporarily.”

One of the knights escorting me cautiously offered his opinion.

“Has it been like this before?”

“No, sir. The last time my comrades and I came here, it was fully operational.”

I recall this shop employing quite a few people.

But now, the forge was cold, and there was no sound of hammers striking metal.

Its sudden deterioration felt unsettling.

At that moment, a passing merchant approached us.

“Oh, my! Isn’t it the young master?”

“Uh… oh, yes, that’s right.”

He looked familiar, but I couldn’t recall his name.

“What brings you to this place, young master?”

“I’m here to see the craftsman Verus. Do they close at this hour?”

“Oh, you mean old Verus...?”

The merchant hesitated momentarily, looking uneasy as he avoided my gaze.

“They say he hasn’t stepped outside his house for days.”

“Hasn’t left his house?”

“Yes. From what I hear, he locked himself in for some reason. Because of that, neither his apprentices nor his employees are showing up for work at the shop.”

This entire business was entrusted to Verus, the dwarven craftsman.

Naturally, if its cornerstone were missing, the operation would grind to a halt.

To me, it seemed like a dangerously inefficient setup, but my father, who focused on people rather than systems, probably didn’t mind.

“Do you know where Verus lives?”

“Oh, yes, of course. Turn right on that street over there, and you’ll see an old dwarven-style building with red bricks. That’s the one.”

“Thanks.”

“Young master, um...”

Just as I was about to leave, the merchant cautiously called out to me.

“What is it?”

“Well, a few others besides yourself have inquired about Verus... but most of them suddenly went silent afterward.”

This piqued my curiosity.

Noticing his wary tone, I nodded and spoke quietly, so my escorts wouldn’t hear.

“I’m aware. In fact, I’ve already picked up on someone tailing us.”

A group daring enough to shadow the Count’s eldest son on the Count’s own land?

No underground organization, no matter how audacious, would touch the ruler of the territory.

Let alone the Count’s family, a house of immense power.

“P-pardon? Then...?”

“Let’s see how far they’re willing to follow.”

They must have some kind of plan, after all.

* * *

Following the directions given by the merchant, I found a dwarven-style building made of red bricks.

Bang, bang!

“Verus! Craftsman Verus, are you there?”

One of my escort knights knocked on the door, calling for the dwarven craftsman, but there was no reply.

“Young master, it seems Verus isn’t home.”

“Not home? He’s in there.”

I walked calmly to the door and spoke softly.

“I know you’re in there. I’ll count to three, so open the door.”

Even after my warning, there was no response.

“Three.”

Of course, I’m someone who keeps my word.

“One.”

Crash!!!

[Skill: [Strike] has been re-learned.]

I ignored the unnecessary notification from the system.

As I shattered the old door with a kick, my escort knights behind me stared in shock.

“Young master!?”

“What are you doing?!”

“You two stay here. I’ll handle this. The craftsman can fix the door himself—he’s a dwarf, after all. Might as well repair the hinges while he’s at it.”

Leaving them behind, I entered the building.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

I had intended to proceed peacefully, but the foul stench assaulting my senses after circulating my aura made me change my approach.

“This is a disgrace.”

During my father’s lifetime, Verus often interacted with him as the resident dwarven craftsman.

Melissa, as my father’s successor, had met him frequently, but this was my first time meeting him, given my different circumstances.

In the dark room, sprawled on the floor, was the dwarf, guzzling down strong liquor.

I approached slowly, crouching to meet his gaze.

“Drinking in the middle of the day instead of working, huh? Sorry about the door, but it should be easy for a craftsman like you to fix. While you’re at it, maybe reinforce the hinges too.”

“The young master of the Count’s family, lacking basic manners, I see. And what’s this about counting to three? You conveniently skipped two.”

“You had no intention of coming out anyway.”

The dwarf glared at me with bleary eyes, his breath reeking of alcohol spreading through the room.

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