The Flying Thunder Sword Technique allowed one to control aura-infused swords. The explanation was simple, but its true value couldn't be appreciated unless one had experienced it firsthand. And Keter had experienced it plenty in his past life. Gathering aura into his fingers, Keter fired and struck down the three incoming daggers with perfect accuracy. Normally, when throwing weapons were intercepted mid-air, that was the end of it. But not the Flying Thunder Sword Technique. The daggers that were clearly shot down mid-air twisted around, spun, and were launched at Keter again. Their sudden burst of acceleration often left first-time victims dead before they even knew what hit them. Of course, Keter, who knew the mechanics of the Flying Thunder Sword Technique, twisted his body and dodged the second wave. Each dagger aimed only at lethal points: his forehead, neck, and abdomen. Even a graze would have been critical. “Your trajectory is too simple. Everything’s aimed at the center of the body. You think that’s enough to kill me?” Out of habit, Keter critiqued even while dodging. Even being deflected couldn’t stop the Flying Thunder Sword Technique, so there was no way dodging it could. The daggers that flew past Keter circled back toward him. And this time, the daggers took varied paths, as if they had taken his advice—one came from above, one waved like a snake, and one came in a straight line. “Enough playing around...” The daggers, which came from different angles and speeds, were now trembling in his palm. They squirmed like they had wills of their own, desperately trying to escape. These daggers were infused with aura and were usually impossible to catch . Ordinary people would lose their fingers trying. On top of that, these weren’t ordinary daggers. And yet, the daggers couldn’t escape, even if blood trickled from Keter’s hand, “It’s been a while, my dear daggers.” Keter recognized them. Two looked identical but had different weights. The other was one he had bought from a magic tool shop on his last visit to Liqueur. They were all daggers he had gifted to Dork. At that moment, a familiar voice called out from deeper inside the tavern. It was Dork. He came out of the kitchen and extended his hand. Instantly, the aura surrounding the daggers vanished. It wasn’t Joyray who had used the Flying Thunder Sword; it was Dork. Keter had already suspected as much after recognizing the daggers, but even he was impressed. He’s managed to put his will into the daggers in just three months? The Flying Thunder Sword Technique had three stages: control, will, and soul. Even Keter had taken a full year to reach the stage of will, yet Dork had managed it in only about three months. It wasn’t perfect, but entering that stage at all was proof of immense talent. “As soon as the daggers got caught, I figured it was you. Come on in.” Once inside the tavern, Keter checked Dork’s condition. He was completely unscathed. “You doing okay?” Keter asked. “You know me. I hate getting hurt. What about you… Wait, who’s the kid behind you?” “Kid? You’re not even much taller.” “What? I’m at least a fist taller than him! What are you saying!” Dork glared at Keter, sensitive as always about his height. As Keter handed back the daggers, he said, “This is Decameron, also known as Six. He’s a Homunculus, which is sort of like a chimera.” “You picked up another stray?” “It just kind of happened.” Dork circled around to examine Six, who moved like a living doll. Keter didn’t like Six’s disinterested attitude. “Six, say hello. This is Dork. He’s my most cherished...” Keter paused mid-sentence, then corrected himself. “...my little brother.” At Keter’s words, Six reacted. His third rule changed. “Nice to meet you, Dork. I am Decameron.” “Nice to meet you, Dork. I am Decameron.” “I said how old are you!” “Nice to meet you, Dork. I am Decameron.” “Big Brother, what’s wrong with this kid?” “Hahaha! That’s actually kind of funny.” Keter burst out laughing at the endlessly looping response. He’s literally repeating the command to say hello on a loop. Dork looked at Six like he was a freak, then turned back to Keter. “It seems like he’s more like a machine than a human. He keeps repeating your command to say hello.” “Exactly. You’re sharp as ever. He’s a chimera that’s practically a machine. He only responds to my commands and repeats them.” “Then please tell him to shut up. He’s annoying.” “Six, shut your mouth.” “Ah, I haven’t laughed like that in a while. Whew.” Tears welled in Keter’s eyes from laughing so hard. Dork chuckled too. “You haven’t changed a bit. Everything with you is sudden.” “You’ll end up like me soon. Remember? I said I would take you with me next time.” Content orıginally comes from 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝⚫𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖⚫𝕟𝕖𝕥 “I remember, but… You saw it on your way here. Are you really okay with Liqueur being in this state?” “It’s my hometown. I can’t just ignore it. What about the Captain?” Dork’s expression darkened, like he was talking about someone who had died. Keter’s face grew serious. “Yeah...” Dork said as he pointed to the ground with his finger. “He’s eating lunch and napping in the underground fortress. Ever since I got here, he’s been making me do all the cooking and cleaning! All because he taught me one lousy technique!” The underground fortress beneath Joyray’s tavern looked nothing like Keter expected. Basements were usually hard to maintain due to the high humidity. And the Joyray Keter knew was not someone who could manage an underground space this well. “You were the one maintaining it, weren’t you?” Keter asked. Dork, who was walking ahead, nodded before he even finished speaking, “I just couldn’t stand it. Just thinking about it still makes my skin crawl. Cobwebs sticking to my face, half-eaten food scraps rolling around on the ground... I swear, the first week I spent here wasn’t learning the Flying Thunder Sword Technique—it was cleaning this place!” Dork poured out his complaints as if still traumatized by Joyray’s filthiness. As Keter listened and chuckled, they arrived at a wide-open hall. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t dark. The sun stones embedded throughout made it as bright as the surface, just like Sefira’s underground facilities. “Please have a seat here. I’ll go fetch Master.” The basement had as many halls and rooms as an ant colony. “No wonder it’s hard to manage. I wouldn’t be able to handle it either.” Just as Keter was finishing looking around, he heard the footsteps of someone waking from sleep. “Yaaawn... Damn brat. You really picked the perfect time to show up,” Joyray said, barely awake. “I think what’s rotten is your skills, Captain. How are you even sleeping through all that chaos outside?” “So what, should I go wipe them all out? As a member of the Mercenary Association?” “Don’t joke with me.” Joyray sat down across from Keter and cracked his neck. “Ahh, that hits the spot. So? What brings you here?” Joyray asked. “What else? I’m here to take Dork.” “Ah... that’s a bit of a problem.” Scratching his head, Joyray shot a serious look at Dork, who had returned with tea and snacks. “I fear I cannot live without him now.” “Bullshit? Did you just say that to me?” “You were serious, so I responded seriously.” “Hmph, even so, that’s harsh. That kid’s my prized disciple now, you know? He’s the rightful successor of the Flying Thunder Sword Technique.” “You were all annoyed with him before.” “When did I ever say that? Got proof?” Dork, setting down the tea and snacks, glanced at the two. “Keep it down. It echoes in the basement.” “Ahem. You brat. Are you taking the guest’s side in front of your master?” “Dork. Are you siding with this one-eyed captain?” Both Keter and Joyray stared at Dork, asking him who he liked better. Instead of answering, Dork sat down beside Keter. “Ugh... How could you do this to me...” Defeated by Keter, Joyray whimpered, unbefitting of his size. “Captain, it’s time to give up and lead the mercenaries.” “What kind of nonsense is that now?” Joyray immediately stopped pretending to sob. He raised his head and glared at Keter. Keter took a bite of the snack Dork had brought and said, “Come on now. You know better. The situation in Liqueur is a complete mess.” “It has nothing to do with me.” “Don’t say things you don’t mean. Honestly, Captain, you could leave Liqueur if you wanted, right?” “...If I could, why do you think I’m hiding down here?” “I wouldn’t know. I don’t care either. But surely you don’t want to see Liqueur completely collapse.” “Doesn’t really matter to me,” Joyray replied in a serious tone. To that, Keter smoothly shifted the target. “What about the thousands of mercenaries in Liqueur?” “Are you threatening me? Technically, you’re the one responsible for them as the branch manager.” “That’s exactly why I’m here, seeking you out to take responsibility.” Keter took out the badge symbolizing the branch manager and pinned it to his chest. “As the head of the Liqueur Mercenary Branch, I ask for your help, Councilman Joyray of the Mercenary Association." “...With what intentions are you asking me?” “Liqueur is my hometown, and I don’t want to see it fall apart. Now that the Godfather is gone, someone has to take his place.” “And you want me to be that someone?” “You weren’t strangers, were you? And in this turf war, do you think mercenaries can survive? Sure, they’re large in number, but they lack a unifying force. But…” Keter snapped his fingers and continued, “... if you become that force, Captain, then the mercenaries could rise to be one of the top three powers in Liqueur.” “I have no interest in ruling Liqueur.” “It’s not about ruling; it’s about restoring order.” On the way here, Keter had noticed all the merchants were gone. That meant no one was selling goods for money anymore. It had always been strange that currency still circulated in Liqueur. In a world cut off from the outside, money was essentially useless. And yet, Liqueur had its own Infinite Bank and used the same currency as the outer world. That was all because of the Godfather. He created a market where goods could be bought and sold fairly, not through violence or coercion but with proper payment. But now, Liqueur had reverted to its early days. No one bought anything anymore. Money had lost its value. All people did was steal and take by force. “Of course, the mercenaries alone won’t be enough. It will be tough, even with you involved.” Joyray scowled, as if Keter had just insulted him. “Relax. I only say that because it’s a matter of management, not skill. Honestly, even if you step up, can you really revive Liqueur’s shattered economy?” “...Yeah, that’s a tough one. But I figure that’s your and Dork’s job.” “Come on now. We’re busy. Dork and I are leaving Liqueur.” “What a joke. You dump all the hard stuff on me and skip off to the outside world?” “I’ll leave you with reliable allies. So quit complaining.” “When did I complain?! And allies? Where in Liqueur are there allies? Everyone’s an enemy!” Joyray wasn’t just ranting in anger. In Liqueur, trust was worth less than garbage. “There is one trustworthy ally. And one that will actively support the mercenaries.” “You’re trying to pull some nonsense again.” “When have I ever lied to you? I’m serious. They exist.” “It’s not a ‘who.’ It’s a strong, dependable force.” Keter didn’t elaborate further, which made Joyray’s face flush red in frustration. Then Dork clapped his hands and said, “Ah! Big Brother, you’re a genius. If it’s that place, they will definitely help the mercenaries. Like you said, it’s reliable and solid.” Now that even Dork had caught on, Joyray turned to Dork and pressed him. “So where is that place, you brat?!” Joyray had lived in Liqueur for decades, but he still had no idea what trustworthy and solid force the two were talking about.