Emotionless Swordsmanship Genius

Chapter 43: The Vigilante Corps (2)

The black sword on the table shot into Karon’s hand as if drawn by a magnetic force.

At the same time, his body darted toward the elderly man in the center of the room like a bolt of lightning.

“Here we go again,” Shong muttered, stepping back with a sigh.

In an instant, Karon landed in front of the elderly man. But the old man remained calm, eyes still closed, deep in thought.

“Hah!”

“You bastard!”

“Lord Heyro!”

Clang!

The vigilantes guarding the meeting hall reacted in panic, drawing their weapons. But it was too late—Karon already had his black sword at the old man’s throat.

‘How is this possible?!’

Everyone shared the same stunned thought.

Shock and awe.

They hadn’t been able to track Karon’s movements, and worse, they witnessed the black sword moving as if it had a life of its own.

“As I said before, I came here of my own free will.”

Karon’s cold words silenced the room. No one dared move. The black sword in his hand, emanating dark, crimson energy, seemed like it could pierce the old man’s neck at any moment.

Then, suddenly—

“Hahaha! Amazing. To think that the owner of such a sword would be such a young man. You wield that dark, wicked energy with impressive skill. No need to worry.”

The old man, called Heyro, laughed heartily and slowly opened his eyes. They were completely white—he was blind.

Karon’s eyebrows twitched slightly. This blind man had seen through the true nature of the black sword.

No one else had ever been able to notice how well Karon controlled the demonic energy.

“Put down your sword. I know you’re not a spy.”

“And how do you know that?”

“You’re beyond their control. They couldn’t possibly manage someone like you, let alone use you as a tool. So, you’re no spy.”

Heyro smiled warmly, and after a moment of thought, Karon withdrew his sword.

The vigilantes around them, still on high alert, quickly raised their weapons again, surrounding Karon and Shong.

“Everyone, stop! These men saved my life!”

A clear voice rang out in the meeting hall, and everyone turned toward the entrance.

There stood a beautiful woman, her dark brown hair neatly tied up and her dress immaculate. She looked entirely different from before.

“Come, Charlotte,” Heyro welcomed her with a raised hand, but she marched forward angrily.

“Grandfather! Tell your men to stand down! Instead of thanking them, you’re treating the people who saved my life like criminals!”

“Hahaha, it seems like I’m the villain here. Alright, everyone, stand down. They’re not spies.”

With a wave of his hand, Heyro signaled the vigilantes to lower their weapons. Reluctantly, they sheathed their blades and backed away.

One vigilante untied Shong’s hands, and he clicked his tongue as he retrieved his cloak, throwing it over his shoulders and standing beside Karon.

As he did, he leaned over and whispered complaints to Karon about how pointless the whole situation was.

Meanwhile, Charlotte stood beside Karon, much to the surprise of the others in the room. She was Heyro’s granddaughter, and her stance clearly aligned her with Karon.

Once the room calmed, Heyro turned to her with a concerned look. “How’s your injury?”

“I can manage. Thanks to these two.”

Satisfied with her answer, he sighed briefly and then turned his attention to Karon and Shong.

“My name is Heyro. And you are…?”

“Karon,” Karon replied curtly.

Shong quickly jumped in. “I’m Shong. As you can see, my companion here lacks social skills, so please forgive his bluntness.”

“That’s no issue,” Heyro replied, his gaze fixed on Karon as he continued. “So, if you’re here by your own will and not as a captive, would you mind explaining why you’ve come?”

“I’ve encountered Tripolas before.”

Karon’s response was immediate, almost as if he had been waiting for this question. Heyro then looked in Charlotte’s direction, as if he could see her.

Charlotte gave a sheepish look and answered, “I told him about Palen and the soldiers that were chasing me.”

“I see. So, you’ve met Tripolas before… but how can I trust that?”

“Palemon. I cut the face of their leader, Bathia. He should have a scar from his chin to his lower lip.”

Karon’s voice was calm, slow, but filled with certainty.

Heyro’s eyebrows twitched slightly. The detail was too specific to be a lie.

“I never mentioned anyone named Bathia,” Charlotte said, raising her hands as if to emphasize her point.

Heyro nodded thoughtfully. “Indeed, Bathia always wears an iron mask covering his mouth. So, do you have a grudge against them?”

“A grudge? No. They’re the ones who have a grudge against me. But…”

Karon paused before continuing.

“I have something I need to repay. And to do that, I’ll need the help of the vigilante corps. I’d rather not have to kill any imperial soldiers unnecessarily.”

The room buzzed with murmurs. Even Heyro looked surprised by Karon’s words.

What Karon was implying was that he had the ability to kill not just the Tripolas Knights but the entire force of over 230 imperial soldiers if necessary.

At this, Shong stepped forward.

“Haha! Hold on a second, Elder. Karon, what are you talking about? Do you even know what you’re getting us into right now?”

This was the first time Shong had heard about Karon’s history with the Tripolas.

He threw an arm around Karon’s shoulders and growled under his breath before turning back to Heyro.

“Elder, we’re just travelers passing through. We happened to save your young lady by sheer luck and have no intention of causing trouble. If you’d kindly let us go on our way, we’d be more than happy to oblige. Though, since you mentioned life debts, we wouldn’t mind a small token of gratitude before we leave…”

“What will you do?” Karon ignored Shong and directed his question at Heyro.

The elder fell silent, deep in thought.

Heyro, despite his blindness, could sense the emotions in people’s voices. But in Karon’s speech, there was no emotion at all—his presence was faint, almost like speaking with a ghost.

One thing was clear, however: Karon’s words didn’t sound like a lie.

“Of course, I could just let you go, but it’s not that simple. If they find out their comrades were killed, who knows what they’ll do next,” Heyro said gravely.

Karon remained silent.

“They might already be organizing a large-scale search. I’ll need some time to think this over; this is not a decision I can make alone. In the meantime, Spencer will show you to a place where you can rest,” Heyro concluded.

Without a word, Karon turned around, followed closely by Charlotte. Shong, dragging his feet, reluctantly trailed behind, letting out a deep sigh.

“This way,” Spencer said as he led the way, with Karon and Shong following.

“Wait,” Charlotte called out to Karon.

“Thank you for saving me. And… I’m sorry for all this trouble. It’s my fault you’re in this mess.”

“You’ve said enough. Just rest. You look pale,” Karon replied indifferently, then continued following Spencer.

Watching from the side, Shong sidled up to Karon and muttered, “Worrying about someone else? Did you fall for her or something?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I was just saying something to fill the silence.”

“Ha. If someone thanks or apologizes, you’re supposed to respond with ‘don’t mention it’ or something. Is it really that hard?”

“Mind your own business.”

Karon shot Shong a side glance, and then, gazing off into the distance, muttered, “I wonder if the pouch of gold tied to the horse is still there…”

At that moment, Shong froze like a statue, his pupils shaking wildly.

“Wait… what?!”

He scrambled toward Spencer, frantically asking about the horses and their belongings. Spencer reassured him as he guided them to a nearby room.

Inside, they found their pouch of gold and camping supplies neatly arranged. Their horses were tied outside the building with food and water provided.

“Phew, that was close. Nearly lost ten years of my life,” Shong sighed in relief, clutching his chest as if to calm his racing heart.

After explaining the room’s amenities, Spencer left them to rest. “I’ll be waiting outside if you need anything. Please relax,” he said.

“Thank you, Spencer,” Shong replied, then shot a glare at Karon as soon as Spencer left.

“Karon? What’s this about Palemon and Tripolas? Don’t you think you owe me an explanation? I’m feeling quite betrayed right now by my one and only partner. Why are you getting us involved in such danger?” Shong growled, clearly upset.

With a short sigh, Karon began to explain the events of his past—his parents’ sudden death, the appearance of the Blue Ravens, his enslavement in the Colosseum, and his encounters with Montecorato and the Tripolas. He also recounted the story of the gladiators in Palemon and his eventual escape.

As Shong listened, his expression gradually softened from irritation to sympathy.

* * *

Meanwhile, back in the meeting hall, the debate raged on.

“Why are we being so lenient with them? Because of them, the Tripolas knights were killed! There’s no way the Empire will leave this unpunished!” a bald man with raised eyebrows shouted angrily.

“So, what? Would you have preferred my granddaughter die at their hands?” Heyro’s icy response left the man speechless.

The bald man took a step back, bowing his head. It was well known that the vigilante corps had grown and thrived thanks to Heyro’s foresight, and his authority was undisputed.

“I already lost my child in the mines. I won’t lose my granddaughter too. Do you understand?” Heyro said firmly.

“Yes, of course,” the man mumbled, retreating even further.

Everyone in the room knew that after losing his son, Heyro had created the vigilante corps.

Then, a woman with sharp, intelligent eyes spoke from across the room. “Lord Heyro, could you explain why you’re placing your trust in ‘him’?”

Heyro hesitated for a moment, then spoke.

“The main reason is the sword he carries. You’ve all heard of the demon weapon, haven’t you?”

“No way… that sword?”

“It contains a dangerous energy, one so corrupt that even carrying it risks being consumed by its madness.”

“Then isn’t that all the more reason to be cautious?” the bald man asked, his face filled with concern.

Heyro nodded. “Indeed, if he couldn’t control the sword, we would have to be worried. But that young man wields it as if it were an extension of himself. You all saw how it flew into his hand, didn’t you? And the dark crimson haze around it?”

The vigilantes exchanged uneasy glances, pondering Heyro’s words.

“There’s one more reason,” Heyro continued, “and that’s the unique aura he possesses. Or rather, the complete lack of it. It’s as if he has no emotions at all—no good, no evil. People like that usually pursue only their goals. And if his goal is the Tripolas, then this might be an opportunity for us.”

“But what if he turns on us?” one of the men asked.

“If he had any ill intentions,” Heyro replied, swallowing hard, “we’d already be corpses.”

His words sent a chill through the room, leaving the vigilantes speechless.

As silence settled, it seemed Heyro’s reasoning was gaining support.

Just then, one of the vigilantes rushed in, shouting, “We’ve got trouble! The imperial soldiers are searching every village in the mountains. Anyone connected to Charlotte is being rounded up and taken to Palen!”

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