The Terminally Ill Young Master is the Mad Dog of the Underworld-Chapter 181

[Translator - Pot]

[Proofreader - Kawaii]

Chapter 181: Demonstrate Your Training Results

Rob had been observing Nasrak's inn for several days under Zizek's orders.

"On the surface, it's just a quiet inn with a wide selection of alcohol and many regulars. The peculiar thing is that more people come to drink than to stay overnight."

"Nothing suspicious?"

"Not that I could see."

Zizek rubbed his chin.

"But according to Boss Karzan, that man Kimret must be there."

Zizek's instincts were warning him of something.

"Something stinks. I can smell some shady dealings."

"I agree."

Gareth, the retired knight who had been promoted to elder by Karzan, nodded.

"Many visitors, but few stay the night. They sell a lot of alcohol. Many regulars... It's the perfect cover for an establishment whose real business is underground trade."

"With so many people and noise, it's less likely to draw suspicion. Easy to exchange coded messages among the crowd."

To the eyes of these two seasoned underworld veterans, Nasrak's inn was undeniably suspicious.

"Kimret is probably an alias too," Gareth remarked.

"He's likely a middleman. Spreads different names around, changes them if pursued. Makes it easier to shake off tails."

"Probably affiliated with some organization, or maybe a lone merchant dealing in dark business," Zizek muttered.

"Rob, come with me. Let's go together."

"Yes."

"Boss, you sure about this?"

"Of course. Thanks to the Boss, I've reached the 4th tier. I won't be in danger unless something extreme happens."

Zizek chuckled.

"Elder—no, our venerable elder—please watch over the establishment."

"Enough with the 'elder' nonsense. It's embarrassing," Gareth sighed.

"You like it, though."

"Well, if you insist on respecting your elders, who am I to stop you?"

Gareth grinned.

"Go on, then. I'll go bother that brat from the Cardovan for a bit."

The nagging of an old-timer like Gareth, who'd seen it all, was bound to be insufferable.

Ulbhild's training continued.

"Starting today, you two will spar with warriors from the Security Guards, Knights, Royal Guards, and Special Operations Division over the next four days."

"Wow, really?"

This was training that Allenvert, more than anyone else, couldn't help but welcome.

"Each unit has different duties, so their martial styles differ. Experiencing these varied styles will be invaluable for refining and advancing your own."

"I think so too."

Allenvert grinned, already scheming to steal techniques from each unit.

Barclava, on the other hand, looked like he was on the verge of tears.

"Don't worry too much. Getting beaten in different ways will teach you something."

Allenvert's kind advice earned a simple response from Barclava.

"Damn it."

On the first day, the two sparred with squad leaders from the Security Guards.

"Hah... hah... I lose. You're unbelievably strong."

"Thanks. Good match."

Allenvert defeated five squad leaders in a row—

And those who lost to him wore expressions of near despair at the overwhelming gap in talent.

"How was it, Allen?"

"Can I be honest?"

"Sure."

"Their martial quality and training intensity were lower than I expected."

Allenvert's harsh critique confirmed the truth: the least talented often ended up in the Security Guards.

"Tomorrow will be the real deal."

Seeing her brother's disappointment, Ulbhild could only say.

"...Part of it is that you've grown too strong too quickly."

She decided to assign much tougher opponents for tomorrow's knight sparring.

As for Barclava—

"Your Highness, that was sharp just now."

"Again, please."

"Come at me anytime!"

He desperately challenged and clashed with the squad leaders in fierce battles.

"The youngest has changed a lot. I didn't expect such tenacity from him."

Ulbhild highly valued Barclava's recent growth.

"I think he's changed a lot lately too."

"You've played a big part in that, Allen."

"Me?"

Allenvert scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

"I just bullied and teased him."

Ulbhild smiled.

"Maybe that's exactly what he needed."

***

Over four days, the two sparred with warriors from all four of Grunewald's major units.

"Young master Allenvert is truly exceptional."

Harold, who observed closely, couldn't hide his admiration.

"He grasps, counters, and assimilates unfamiliar martial arts absurdly fast. After just a few exchanges, it's like he's already finished analyzing them."

"That's not all," Ulbhild added.

"Different martial styles, warriors interpreting them in their own ways—yet he freely adapts his own against all of them."

Sometimes mimicking their swordplay.

Other times relying on extreme evasion and counterattacks with Scarlet Cloud Ghost Path.

Occasionally bulldozing through with Azure Sea Moon Shadow Swordsmanship.

Or fighting almost bare-handed with Flowing Cloud Thunder Fist and Whispering Snow in the Night.

And sometimes blending all of it into a single battle...

"Allen grows by the day. Like a desert cactus starved for rain, finally blooming after a downpour."

Frankly, even if Siena or her brother were prodigies, they wouldn't be allowed the slightest lapse against the current Allenvert.

"Damn it, I lose!"

Chase, failing to even graze Allenvert, dropped his training sword.

"Good match, Chase."

Allenvert, having secured an easy victory, swept back his sweat-drenched bangs.

"Young master, some water!"

Peter scurried over with water and a towel.

"Nice timing."

Allenvert gulped it down.

"Good work, Allen. That's the end of the sparring."

"Yes, it was fun."

Seeing Allenvert's sparkling eyes, drunk on the joy of honing his skills, Ulbhild smiled inwardly.

'You really are my kindred spirit.'

It was almost unbelievable he'd suppressed this martial obsession for seven years.

"You look happy, Allen."

"Of course."

Sharpening his skills, refining his martial path, proving his strength against countless warriors—

To Allenvert, nothing was more exhilarating.

"Then, share your thoughts. How were Grunewald's warriors?"

"Well..."

Allenvert tilted his head, organizing his impressions before speaking.

"The Security Guards focused on defense and suppression, so they maintained distance and retreated easily. The knights, though, trusted their armor and offense, favoring heavy and strong swords in their charges."

"Spot on."

Ulbhild nodded.

"The Royal Guard was uniformly skilled. Trained to defend the palace yet capable of all combat types as the Duke's personal guard. They could wield everything from greatswords to rapiers and twin blades."

Two days of sparring made Allenvert realize Karl leading the knights and Verdzig the Royal Guard wasn't arbitrary.

"And the Special Operations Division?"

Harold perked up at the mention of his unit.

"As the only elite unit with select members, their individual capabilities were the most outstanding," Allenvert remarked, mixing in a bit of flattery.

"Though perhaps the 2nd Battalion, personally trained by Sister, is exceptionally remarkable."

"Hahaha!"

"Heh, the young master knows his stuff."

The two Special Operations Division officers laughed as Allenvert continued.

"Above all, I appreciated experiencing everything from orthodox martial arts to diverse combat styles honed through real battles. It felt like a unit assembled to handle any mission with versatile skills."

Ulbhild tossed him a half-serious joke.

"If you like it so much, why not join the Special Operations Division later? You could command your own battalion before long."

Allenvert grinned.

"That would be nice. But shouldn’t I raise my value before accepting any offers?"

"An expensive man, I see."

Harold watched the siblings' warm banter with a mix of fondness and barely concealed envy.

"Hey, wipe that look off your face. People will think you bit into something rotten."

"Ahem."

Ulbhild tapped Allenvert’s shoulder.

"Allen, walk with me around the castle again today."

"Understood."

Since Allenvert progressed so quickly, Ulbhild used the remaining training time to show him around the castle, imparting lessons on various subjects.

"But sister."

"Hmm?"

"Is this really part of a swordsmanship instructor’s duties?"

"Technically, yes."

The swordsmanship instructor for Grunewald’s direct heirs wasn’t just a combat teacher.

They also served as strict examiners assessing heir qualifications and oversaw various successor lessons.

So Venion’s neglect of his duties would’ve been unthinkable without the Duke’s tacit approval.

‘That man…’

Allenvert shrugged, wondering where he’d disappeared to.

Most of our strolls were filled with lighthearted chatter.

"By the way, your adjutant is named Harold, and brother Karl’s is Harald. Are they brothers?"

"...Just a coincidence."

"Ah, I see. Their names are so similar."

It was usually like this.

But amidst the casual talk, Ulbhild occasionally slipped in lessons akin to rulership.

"Allen, look there."

From the castle spire overlooking the city, she said:

"The city’s master is its lord. They raise Grunewald’s walls, regulate who enters, and spend fortunes training armies to protect its people’s lives and wealth. A good ruler flawlessly fulfills these duties."

Then she posed a question.

"Why must the lord bear these obligations?"

"Because it’s their duty… would be too obvious."

"Right. Duties require fitting rewards. Otherwise, no one would uphold them."

I gauged her meaning.

"So you’re asking what reward compels lords to invest so much in managing cities?"

Ulbhild nodded.

"Well…"

These were questions Karzan had rarely pondered.

But…

I realized the dynamic between lords and citizens wasn’t so different from crime bosses and their turf.

"Because attracting more citizens means greater tax revenue."

"Go on."

I pointed at the merchant ships in Grunewald Harbor.

"Look at those traders flocking to this natural trade hub with perfect infrastructure and security. The tariffs alone must bring the lord staggering wealth."

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"And?"

Her prodding confirmed I was on the right track.

"Tolls from foreign merchants, taxes from citizens enjoying prosperity—all these are the lord’s rewards."

As Ulbhild exhaled lightly in amusement, I added:

"In a way, we’re also running a business with merchants and citizens as our clients."

"For a quick answer, that’s quite impressive, Allen."

Her satisfied smile appeared whenever I gave a worthy response.

"That’s the perspective of a ruler."

Though not a ruler herself, Ulbhild wanted nothing more than a worthy heir on Grunewald’s throne.

That’s why she supports me over Verdzig.

"...Speaking of which."

Ulbhild’s voice grew solemn.

"Your two weeks are nearly up."

"Time flew."

"You don’t need to come tomorrow."

"!"

Sensing gravity in her tone, I asked:

"Is there a final test waiting?"

"Yes."

Her gaze held mine firmly.

"Rest tomorrow. Review your progress and handle pending matters."

"And the day after?"

"Defeat Harold in a duel. That’s your condition for descending the mountain."

"…!"

Harold, deputy commander of the 2nd Battalion.

Even now, no opponent to take lightly.

"Victory would prove you strong enough to lead a battalion."

"...A tough test."

But surpassing Harold and properly learning the Ink Soul Sacred Shadow Technique from Venion meant—

Even if Siena dominated the sixth seat of Ete Nistyrnur, I’d have nothing to fear.

[Translator - Pot]

[Proofreader - Kawaii]