Hundreds of years ago, there was a man who started working as a mercenary at a young age. The man clumsily wielded a sword and survived his first mission.
Afterward, he was lucky enough to save his life in a few more missions, and with the reward for the missions, he forged a cheap mana heart.
He had no proper sword master, and his training method for the mana heart was all picked up while working as a mercenary. At the age of twenty, the man achieved the level of 1-star.
He gained experience by participating in monster subjugation battles, and by the end of his twenties, he was able to master 1-star.
The man’s skills were extremely ordinary. He was not outstanding among mercenaries who made a living by the sword, nor was he particularly lacking.
If there was anything different between him and ordinary mercenaries, it was that he did not indulge in alcohol or gambling.
He simply carried out missions silently like a monk and repeated taking breaks.
And at the end of his thirties, he succeeded in mastering 2-star.
He had no woman he met during that time, nor did he start a family.
Even a mercenary crazy about money would find it hard to be as diligent as him.
As time passed like that, although his pay was not much, he was classified as a veteran in the industry.
One day, a mercenary asked.
“Where do you spend the money you earn like a dog?”
It was because he thought that since he started working as a mercenary at a young age and lived consistently for decades, the money he had saved would not be small.
Since that man, the number of people curious about where the money was used increased one by one.
The man would just smile.
“Do you perhaps have a hidden lover?”
The one who asked that died by a monster in the next mission.
“It’s more plausible that he has a hidden child rather than a lover.”
The one who said that soon lost his life on the battlefield.
Those who questioned the man increased and decreased repeatedly.
Before he knew it, the man had become a middle-aged man in his forties.
The mana heart he had cultivated was mid-level 3-star.
It couldn’t be compared to properly trained knights, but not dying in missions until that age was worth acknowledging.
Most of those who started working as mercenaries with him had either died or retired and started families.
“For someone who lives by the sword, surviving for decades is a talent if you can call it a talent.”
Decades of mercenary experience and a 3-star mana heart. The man was satisfied with what he had achieved.
Living by the sword means you can die at any time.
The middle-aged mercenary, who knew that fact well, also faced death at an unexpected moment.
That day’s mission was to escort a noblewoman crossing a mountain range to meet her new lover.
A trivial mission if you call it trivial.
The noblewoman was impatient to meet her lover even a day sooner, and the problem started when the escorts, unable to overcome her urging, deviated from the verified path.
Twenty escort mercenaries composed of 1 to 5-star levels.
It was a force that could easily hunt a decent group of monsters.
If a new ruler had been born in the mountain range they entered, and (if they had known that a 6-star monster appeared on the newly found path), such a situation could have been avoided.
In the attack of the mutant monster, the mercenaries’ blood scattered.
Arms holding swords were torn off, and resisting legs rolled on the ground.
The noblewoman and her attendants died without even being able to run away properly.
The middle-aged man also failed to block the blow of the 6-star monster, suffered a large wound on his chest, rolled down the mountain slope several times, and lost consciousness.
He came to his senses at the moisture hitting his face.
Heavy rain was pouring down.
He felt dizzy from how much blood he had spilled.
A small cave was visible in front of him.
He rotated his mana heart and forced his body up.
Usually, monsters tend to live in groups in caves located in mountain ranges.
But it wasn't a situation to consider such things.
With his current body condition, he wouldn't be able to withstand the pouring rain.
He pushed his laboriously raised body into the cave.
How long did he walk, tense about monsters that might appear at any moment?
He harbored a hope that perhaps beyond this cave, there might be a path leading to another part of the mountain range.
It was because he recalled stories that such mysterious caves sometimes existed in mountain ranges.
Before long, it was proven that his thought was wrong.
The end of the cave was firmly blocked so that not a single ray of light could seep in.
And there was a sword.
A mysterious sword emitting a solitary, noble light alone, as if it were the owner of the cave.
If his body had been normal, he would have rejoiced at the discovery of a weapon that might be a famous sword.
Not now.
He felt dizzy from losing a significant amount of blood.
In this situation, a sword was of no help.
He realized that this place had become his grave.
‘A long life ends like this.’
The middle-aged mercenary sat leaning against the sword and reviewed his past life.
It was a life he had run through without rest.
He couldn't say he had no regrets, but he was grateful that at least it wasn't a death where his limbs were torn apart by a monster.
However, if there was one lingering regret, it was the worry about the children at the orphanage who would go hungry once his support was cut off.
If there is goodness left in the world, may someone protect them even if he dies.
Thinking so, the man closed his eyes.
He felt sorry for being the only one to find peace, but he thought there was nothing more he could do now.
[This time, is it a guy who forged a mana heart?]
A voice was heard from somewhere.
[Where did you get such a crude mana heart? It’s absurd.]
The voice seemed flustered, and also angry.
‘What on earth is this…….’
He was bewildered, unable to properly realize what was happening to him.
[Although he is a bit old.]
As if his feelings didn't matter.
[Choosing a partner is not my choice.]
The voice continued to ring.
[You’ve bled a lot and been hit by a lot of rain. Grab me.]
The man grabbed the hilt of the sword as if possessed.
Huge mana flowed in through the hilt.
Blue mana wrapped around his body, and the wound on his chest began to regenerate.
His fading consciousness became clear, and warmth returned to his cold body.
[Nice to meet you. Partner.]
The man finally realized that the sword he was holding was speaking in his head.
“…….”
[My name is Adamas.]
The meeting between the man later called the Mercenary King and the Magic Sword Adamas.
It was the day their journey began.
***
Marc.
A commoner raised in an orphanage with no surname.
To make a living, he jumped into mercenary work which paid decently, and forged a crude mana heart circulating in the market, reaching 3-star.
[You can’t undo a mana heart once forged. With this, it won’t be easy to cross the wall. No, it’s not just not easy, it’s almost impossible.]
I pointed out the fundamental problem my new partner had.
It would be better if he had a body that hadn't forged a mana heart, but because he forged a clumsy mana heart, there was a limit to the mana he could accumulate.
[Sword skills can be corrected somehow, but the level you can reach is fixed without expanding the mana heart.]
Even at my pointing this out, Marc remained the same.
“It doesn’t matter.”
[…….]
“I have no intention of becoming a knight now anyway.”
He said that continuing mercenary work as he does now is enough.
“I didn’t intend to take a break from work anyway.”
Since he got a skilled magic sword, he said it was enough just to guide him as far as he could reach.
[I knew it from the moment you sent every penny you earned with your life to the orphanage.]
It was a fact I learned by reading Marc’s memories after becoming partners.
It seemed he hadn't told anyone until now, but somehow I became the first person to share his secret.
Marc just shrugged his shoulders as if he had no intention of hiding it.
[A guy with no greed like you is rare.]
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
[It’s not a compliment.]
“…….”
[Marc. I don’t want my partner to die early.]
“I’m not the type to waste my life in vain either.”
[Looking back on your life, you can’t say that.]
Forty-five years old.
The forged mana heart is crude and at best stabilized at 3-star.
His swordsmanship is a reckless style learned by swinging instinctively.
Despite that, he constantly accepts and carries out missions to provide money to the orphanage that raised him.
It was amazing that he had survived without major injuries until now.
“Although my life isn't something to boast about, I can be sure of one thing.”
[……?]
“People who change easily die easily.”
He added that dying is not simply physical, and that he values mental worth as well.
[A guy with no skills, only good at talking.]
“So please take care of me. Since I’m the only one who came back alive, work isn’t coming in well anyway.”
[…….]
A guy so naive it’s foolish.
Why are all my partners like this?
Not showing my displeasure, I answered that I would do so.
Marc’s growth was slow, but its direction was different from before.
I made him train his crude mana heart every day to fill in the clumsy parts.
I applied the knights' training methods to correct his reckless sword style.
Still, his learning ability wasn't bad, so by the time he turned 50, he was able to master 5-star.
5-star at an age when others cross the wall of superhuman or retire to enjoy their old age.
While I was pleased with the old mercenary's fighting spirit, I was also worried about the missions becoming dangerous as his level rose.
He was just happy that the pay increased and he could send more money to the orphanage.
[You can’t live like this forever. You have to feed yourself first.]
“Because the war never ends, the number of people has increased compared to before. If I become a 6-star, the pay will increase significantly.”
[With your skills, you’ll have to train for another 3 years to reach 6-star.]
“3 years……. Not much time left.”
[Yeah. The problem is that you don’t have much time left to live either.]
“Your jokes about your partner are excessive.”
[Does it sound like a joke?]
“…….”
Time passed quickly.
Marc reached 6-star the year he turned 53, and stabilized 6-star the year he turned 55.
And around the time he turned 60, he mastered 6-star.
The last stage a mortal can reach.
Since Marc reached it with a crude mana heart, it was truly an achievement like crossing a wall.
The old mercenary who mastered 6-star was enough to be made into a song in the mercenary world, and some famous mercenary corps even offered large sums to recruit Marc.
[If you had accepted the offer, you wouldn’t have had to worry about money to send to the orphanage for a few years.]
“It’s useless. Belonging to a mercenary corps will only restrict my freedom. They say mercenaries do anything for money, but I don’t want to be used for harming others’ lives.”
[I told you, only your mouth is alive.]
Unlike my words, I was pleased with his upright beliefs.
As long as he doesn't forsake being human, the growth of his mana heart will remain open.
And a few years passed.
Tribulation arose in the world.
Monsters swarmed, and kingdoms that had been waiting for an opportunity began to wage war one by one.
Around the time when the blood of monsters and humans formed a sea of blood and mountains of corpses, soaking the land to the point of flooding.
The Empire declared a massive monster subjugation war.
Chapter 227: Chapter 227
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