Savage Ascension: Starting with God-Tier Plunder Ability-Chapter 76: Knights Must Not Look Back

Looking at Gulliver Alastor, Rowan sneered. His mood wasn’t good. Because until now, black doors always promised rewards, and he’d received them. Something like this time shouldn’t have happened.

Because the implicit rule between the black dream and Rowan had collapsed.

"Should I do the family’s revenge? Find descendants and ask me to look after them or something?"

Gulliver shook his head. He made a displeased expression.

"I’m not that kind of idiot. The family’s fate is for future generations to decide. And why should I take care of my descendants’ meals?"

He had snap thinking. Rowan found that unexpected.

"Usually if it’s a family that collapsed because of yourself, wouldn’t you feel more responsibility?"

"If a dead person appeared saying they came to help, it’d greatly wound their confidence. It means I didn’t believe in them."

Like a proud knight, even his thinking was bizarre. If it were Rowan, if an ancestor appeared saying being poor looked hard and told him lottery numbers? Oh boy, he’d happily buy a lottery ticket.

’Even seeing a knight for the first time, what kind of guys they are hits home instantly.’

Pride. Honor. To put it harshly, they looked like ones wasting life maintaining face. But importantly, they were never stupid.

"But why are you speaking casually?"

At Rowan’s words, Gulliver answered coolly.

"Though falsely accused and dying, I didn’t have my count title stripped. What is your rank?"

"...Does that matter?"

He nodded.

"If you’re at least knighted, I’ll treat you properly."

Thorough class society. Establishment. Rowan couldn’t refute. He just scratched the back of his head. Democracy? He’d be laughed at.

"Can I speak casually too?"

"No. You’re a commoner, aren’t you."

"I don’t like it. You’re already dead anyway. What does rank matter?"

Rowan mixed in a few words. The fuming Gulliver was quite watchable. Ultimately, the one who tired himself out was Rowan. Modern people liked getting straight to the point. That tendency grew stronger with age.

That habit revealed itself this time too. He raised his hand to stop the bickering.

"Fine. So what do you want?"

"There’s a secret technique called Oger Jagd (Ogre Hunt). A one-person transmission secret technique passed only to family heads. I want you to convey it to House Alastor’s survivors."

"Why couldn’t you convey it?"

"Because everyone coveted it. My family members and I couldn’t have private meetings. Everyone wanted Oger Jagd. The lord was the same. If the family was dying anyway, obtaining that secret technique was profitable."

"So what did you do?"

"I told no one."

Rowan felt goosebumps rise on his forearms at that resoluteness. A count family’s one-person transmission secret technique. Not telling anyone and dying... must have been a tremendous worry. Yet there wasn’t a single emotional waver.

"Don’t you regret that decision even now?"

"Knights must not look back. Because they always go around covered in blood. Resoluteness sometimes devours yourself, but at least promises an unhindered life."

"What kind of secret technique is it?"

"Literally, a swordsmanship secret technique for humans to kill ogres. Several families have it, but those aren’t complete."

"Is House Alastor’s Ogre Hunt complete?"

"Even perfect."

Laughter flowed from Gulliver. Rather, Rowan’s mood also improved.

"Naturally you know you must teach me?"

He nodded. But raised a finger with a condition.

"Don’t transmit to others."

"Yes."

That seemed keepable. But Gulliver shook his head and said.

"Don’t say it simply. Oger Jagd is a secret technique everyone covets. If you use it, you could fall into danger. Bearing that will be quite difficult."

Rowan nodded insincerely even at those words. Directly facing macho man Gulliver’s resoluteness, he’d instantly become a cool-natured macho guy. He was mentally influenced by Gulliver’s words and actions. That’s how attractive his words and actions were.

"I said got it."

"So where are the survivors?"

"I don’t know. I suddenly opened my eyes to begin with. And it’s this situation."

Rowan naturally got angry.

"No, you should naturally know, shouldn’t you? Then when will we find survivors? Isn’t the probability of not finding them higher?"

"Probably they’re in the Central Empire beyond the Southern Territory. One of the knight families. I don’t know if they use the name Alastor, but find knights with red hair and green emerald."

’Son of a bitch.’

To Rowan who’d lived in the information age, it sounded insane. Who knew how many distant years it might take, and living for that? Far from Rowan’s abundant life. Above all, they might not be a knight family, and might not be knights. The worst case existed.

"Say something that makes sense..."

Gulliver nodded.

"It’ll take quite some time. So I was worried too. Thinking about it, I saw the answer. If we make a soul contract, it’ll be good for you and good for me."

"What’s that?"

Rowan even felt ominousness. Like a decade-long friend pulling out an ocher-colored paper document binder that looks like it contains a guarantee at a drinking session.

"Because this space exists, it’s possible. It’s a promise to each other."

"If broken?"

"You won’t see anything good."

Gulliver retorted. He didn’t know well either. He just knew superficially. Like modern people using smartphones without knowing their structure.

Rowan was suspicious.

"Why should I do that? I don’t even want to go to the Central Empire to begin with."

"I’ll give you compensation in advance. You can receive everything I currently have."

"What exactly is that?"

Gulliver thought a bit.

"Your frame could grow a bit bigger. Because you and I differ quite a bit. About two heads’ worth difference."

"Let’s say about one head. I’m not that short either."

"No. It was about two heads’ difference."

Gulliver said very resolutely.

"And you’ll become a bit stronger than ordinary humans too."

"How much?"

"You could shoulder one more sack of wheat."

Besides that, by receiving Gulliver’s quest, he could obtain many things. Literally no different from Gulliver Alastor being absorbed into Rowan.

"How is this possible?"

"I can’t tell you, and I don’t know well either. Go to wizards or priests and argue about such things. I’m a knight."

Rowan sighed. But he coldly organized what he’d gain and lose.

’What I’ll lose.’

That was time. He’d waste lots of time. Traveling wasn’t a very good choice. Because most people were born in villages and died in villages. Not only wariness toward outsiders, but hungry villages would turn into bandits.

Even going after founding a mercenary group was the same. Ultimately, numerous troublemakers would appear. Also, he’d likewise waste time.

’I won’t even live long.’

In having to invest time, the negative element was big—that was this House Alastor quest.

’What I gain.’

Naturally physical growth. Because he himself said adopting Gulliver’s frame, the scales couldn’t help but tilt greatly. Large frame meant having more body weight, and meant greater strength.

’His technique.’

Sword accuracy with precision high enough to call it vivid trajectory. Essence of technique gained by repeating the same act hundreds of thousands of times. Enough to precisely stab helmet eye holes. Of course, he wouldn’t gain that much.

What could be obtained from Gulliver who became undead wasn’t perfect technique acquisition. He told him there were things that scattered while transferring to him.

"How do you know that?"

"I just know. I came to know from the moment I entered this space."

Rowan pondered then said.

"Is teaching Ogre Hunt all for secret techniques?"

He raised a finger.

"If you give up the frame, I can tell you one more secret technique."

"That’s fine."

Knight’s frame or precise swordsmanship Oger Jagd (Ogre Hunt).

These three things were what Gulliver could give.

"I receive it immediately upon accepting the quest?"

"Right."

Rowan took a deep breath. He didn’t accept immediately. Though attractive, he first made a plan.

’If I accept, how will I find House Alastor’s survivors?’

He had to draw that out first and judge. Time flowed relentlessly.

’Mercenaries?’

There was a limit to crazy talk. If he’d formed a mercenary group heading to the Central Empire, Rowan would already have firmly grasped a fortune. The mercenaries’ loyalty would definitely be very high.

’Should I just go to the empire and start?’

He might die traveling.

’If I build up my own strength and go...’

Who knew how many years it might take.

’Give up?’

That wasn’t it. Because Gulliver presented three things in a format of immediately giving rewards.

’Can’t I just send someone to find them?’

The most rational thing was sending a capable errand runner to the Central Empire. Of course, even if not that, by putting in five or ten years, he could make safe methods by steadily raising procedures.

Unlike people here who couldn’t think even one year ahead, Rowan could plan looking ahead ten years.

"I’ll do it."

"Good."

The black door behind where Gulliver stood opened wide and spewed black smoke to cover everything. Rowan felt his body’s joints moving arbitrarily and struggled like having a seizure while getting up.

"Uggurgh."

It felt like bones were screaming. But that didn’t continue long. The moment he thought it hurt, the phenomenon disappeared.

Throb.

Next, the appearance, motions, and process of Oger Jagd all entered his head.

’A tremendous secret technique. A swordsmanship manual for catching ogres.’

Impressive. Admiration naturally came at how much threat was endured to know this. Rowan’s body heated up, so as soon as the sun rose, he swung his sword in the yard.

’Precision.’

His heart pounded seeing the longsword reaching anywhere he wanted with any body type. He instantly ascended one level higher. Because it was Rowan who did at least minimum training daily, it was a moment clearly felt.

’Shame.’

But Rowan soon turned his head to the longsword. The 1.3m length longsword was operable one-handed, but practically no different from a two-handed weapon. Compatibility with the round shield wasn’t good.

’I’ll carry it, but if opponents have ranged weapons, I can’t use it often.’

After eating breakfast, Merein and Yuval scattered. They were thinking of Rowan as a recruiting target, so they were treating him well. The reason for not paying for food too. Because Rowan knew that, he was trying to hurry and form a mercenary group.

Today, even if putting a greenhorn in his arms, he intended to do something.

Originally he should return to Black Mountain Village, but his mind had changed long ago. Because of greed.