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Chapter 148: The Great Duel (2)

The walls of other cities were usually gray, but Alaste’s walls glistened like white marble.

Crockta nodded. “It’s beautiful.”

“The walls have been passed down for generations and are the pride of Alaste. Legend says that a white dragon named Ariadne built them with magic,” explained Vigo.

The guards at the entrance recognized Vigo and gave a big salute.

Vigo shook his head and pointed at Crockta’s party.

“Not me! These gentlemen will save Alaste, so salute them!”

“Save Alaste?” wondered the guards.

“This orc warrior is unbelievably strong. I am planning to recommend him for the duel against the kingdom!”

“Ohh! Welcome! Alaste!”

“Alaste!”

The guards saluted Crockta with gusto. Rather than being scared of the orc, they were in awe of Crockta’s stature and menacing face.

“Crockta will give Adantadore a good scolding!” exclaimed Vigo.

“Crockta! We believe in you!”

“Adantadore will wet his pants just from seeing your face!” said the guards.

Crockta wasn’t sure whether they were praising or mocking him, but he nodded.

After Vigo exchanged pleasantries with the guards, they finally entered Alaste.

Anor was the first to respond to the scenery. “Woooow!”

Tiyo, who was usually not impressed by the culture of other species, quietly muttered, “Not bad.”

Crockta grinned widely. “It’s impressive.”

The city mirrored the white palette of its city walls inside as well. In contrast to Arnin, the elven city, Alaste’s charm was elevated by an infusion of azure tones that delighted the eyes of onlookers.

Its white and blue hues and architecture resembled cities in the Mediterranean.

Vigo swelled with pride. “Us Alasteans have superb aesthetic sensibilities. The citizens cooperate with the Department of Urban Landscape to maintain the city space. I have never met anyone who wasn’t impressed by Alaste’s beauty.”

The beauty of the city spoke true to his pride.

The citizens cast curious glances at the visitors who hailed from a different species. But unlike other cities, the people here didn’t seem to fear orcs.

Crockta realized it was thanks to Vigo.

“Hello, sir! Who is the orc next to you?” asked a child.

“He’s here to help Alaste!”

“Wow! Thank you!”

Children passing by greeted Vigo with bright smiles on their faces.

Everywhere Vigo went, citizens greeted him and cheerfully complimented him. Some of them, seeing other species for the first time, requested handshakes from Crockta and his friends.

It was obvious that the citizens of Alaste held knights in high regard. Even though there was an unfamiliar orc nearby, they didn’t fear any harm because Vigo, the knight, was right there.

Anor smiled. “It’s a nice place.”

“It is,” agreed Crockta.

The streets of Alaste buzzed with energy. Everything was out in the open, and they didn’t see any hidden alleys which were common in most cities.

“The lord of Alaste collects minimal taxes because the city has ample funds from natural resources. We can extract quality marble and have a huge silver mine. These are our gifts from God,” said Vigo proudly.

Before they knew it, they had arrived at the lord’s residence located in the center of the city. The knights guarding the residence heartily greeted Vigo.

“Vigo!”

They seemed well acquainted with Vigo. Their gazes quickly shifted between Vigo and Crockta’s party.

“Who’s this? What happened to Morenson?”

Vigo explained that Morenson, his scouting partner, had passed away during their mission to survey Nogunda’s bandits. The knights’ faces grew solemn when they heard the news.

Then Vigo went on to praise Crockta’s display of prowess against the bandits and his plans to recommend Crockta as a participant in the proxy war against the kingdom.

Upon hearing the news, the knights looked at Crockta with a peculiar glint in their eyes.

Crockta recognized that look. They burned with competitiveness.

They wanted to find out whether Crockta really had the skills Vigo spoke so highly of.

Crockta grinned. He approved of such attitudes in knights.

“In any case, enter. You need to meet with the lord first,” said the knights as they opened the entrance.

***

When they entered the lord’s residence, a female staff member guided them upstairs.

The residence was more modest-looking than they had expected. Although it mirrored Alaste’s distinct architectural style, it was plainly decorated.

Once they reached the lord’s chamber upstairs, the staff member knocked on the door.

“My lord, Vigo has returned.”

“Let him in.”

Crockta’s party and Vigo thanked her and entered the chamber.

The lord turned out to be a brawny middle-aged man with a long beard. He had a head full of red hair that was slicked backward.

His eyes widened in surprise at the sudden appearance of an orc. “Hmm?”

“My lord.”

“Hey, Vigo, who is that orc over there?”

While Vigo conversed with the lord, Crockta couldn’t help but stare at a man seated across from them.

He was an elderly man whose hair had gone mostly white.

The passage of time had carved his face with wrinkles, but he displayed flawless posture with his back straight as a rod. He wore casual attire with a sword at his waist.

Crockta instinctively recognized him as the old knight who had reached the level of a Grandmaster that Vigo had talked about.

At their level, they could tell a lot just from a glance.

Crockta could visualize it in his head.

Within their slowed-down worlds, he would swing his greatsword toward the Grandmaster, who would charge instead of dodging his attack.

He would evade Crockta’s blade by a narrow margin and go for Crockta’s stomach.

His greatsword would clash against his blade and they would exchange a series of strikes.

Crockta sparred against the Grandmaster in his head for a while. He only came to his senses when Vigo suddenly asked him a question.

“Isn’t that right?”

Crockta had no idea what Vigo was asking about.

“What did you say?” asked Crockta.

“Aren’t you Crockta, the Conqueror of the North?” asked Vigo. “I wasn’t sure at first, but I became more and more certain.”

Crockta’s reputation was so widely spread that even Vigo had discovered his true identity.

Crockta nodded. “Some call me that.”

“I was right!”

The lord’s eyes widened in surprise. He exchanged looks with the knight sitting across from him.

Then the lord got up and walked toward Crockta. Close up, Crockta could admire his toned physique. It was obviously a result of a consistent training regimen.

“Thank you for making a difficult decision. Alaste will not forget the help of the Conqueror of the North

While Crockta had been preoccupied with his mental sparring against the Grandmaster, Vigo had spoken to the lord as if Crockta had already agreed to represent Alaste in the proxy war.

Vigo winked at Crockta.

Crockta grinned. “It’s nothing. I was touched by Vigo volunteering to donate three months of his salary to the cause.”

“Ohh, Vigo, is that true?” asked the lord.

“Huh, what?”

“I’m touched by your dedication,” praised the lord.

“Ah, that’s...”

The lord was obviously joking, but Vigo was hesitant to tease back a man in such high standing.

Suddenly, a hoarse voice interjected. “Quit teasing the young knight.”

It was a low and gruff voice, but it had a resonant quality to it. Its unique tone had a charm that naturally made people listen.

The elderly knight stood up. He was thin but was tall enough to meet Crockta at eye level. “Quite an impressive warrior, I see,” he remarked.

The Grandmaster had already completely seen through Crockta, but he still scanned him up and down.

The Grandmaster’s instinct was warning him against Crockta.

Most orcs relied on brute strength, pushing back their enemies with their hardy bodies, but this orc warrior practiced swordsmanship more sophisticated than that of humans or elves. He had already envisioned Crockta’s swift and precise swordsmanship in his head.

“You are stronger than me,” the Grandmaster acknowledged.

The lord of Alaste and Vigo were flabbergasted by the legendary knight readily acknowledging his opponent’s superiority.

“Really?” the lord exclaimed.

“Hmm, from a glance, he seems to be on par with Adantadore,” said the Grandmaster.

“Ohh...”

“I could see how he single-handedly managed to conquer the north.”

“Ohh...”

“The gods must be looking after Alaste.”

He grinned and extended a hand toward Crockta. Crockta grabbed his hand.

“Crockta, I’m the old knight of Alaste, Galadin.”

“I’m Crockta, the orc warrior from Orcrox.”

It was the meeting between Grandmaster Galadin, referred to as the guardian of Alaste, and Crockta, the conqueror of the north acknowledged by the gods, but they humbly referred to themselves as an old knight and an orc warrior.

Vigo and the lord of Alaste smiled contentedly as they observed their interaction.

“My lord, the future of Alaste is bright.”

“Galadin is old, and Crockta is an outsider. The future of Alaste depends on young knights like you,” the lord disagreed.

“Umm...”

“Does Alaste’s future still seem bright?”

“It’s a bit foggy.”

“That’s why I’ve aged so much.”

“I’m sorry...” apologized Vigo.

***

The knights gathered to recover the remains of the knight killed by Nogunda, king of the mountain.

Galadin surveyed the knights standing straight in a line. He was sparse with his words.

“Find our friend. We will hold the funeral afterward.”

“Yes!”

The leader of the knights raised his arm to his chest and bowed. “We will head out immediately, sir.”

“Permission granted.”

“March!”

The knights steered their horses in the opposite direction and headed outside the castle.

Citizens cheered on the procession of knights.

Tiyo, observing the knights’ departure, commented, “Is it okay to send out the knights when they will be fighting against the kingdom soon?”

“We don’t have a chance anyways if the kingdom decides to really take us on. They won’t do anything out of line since they are the ones who suggested a proxy duel in the first place. Especially if they are concerned about the scrutiny of the citizens and the gods.”

Crockta rubbed his chin, deep in thought. “Vigo.”

“Yes.”

“Is there...”

Crockta suddenly remembered why the name Alaste had been strangely familiar to him.

When he was a beginner in Elder Lord, he looked up strategies and tips for the game and saw a player eagerly promoting Alaste as a great place to live.

The player was a well-known Alaste fan on the forum. They even vowed to become a high-ranking official in Alaste and further advance the city.

“...someone who has received the curse of the stars in Alaste?” asked Crockta.

“There’s quite a few. There’s a lot these days.”

“Someone in a well-renowned occupation.”

“Ohh, are you asking about Yellow?”

“Yellow?”

“Yes, you met her earlier.”

Vigo pointed toward the lord’s residence. “The woman who guided us.”

“Ah, her...”

Crockta nodded. He didn’t notice because she had covered her forehead with her bangs. Turns out, she was also a player.

As the level of players rose, unique players who devised their own strategies and excelled in different facets of Elder Lord emerged. The role-player militiaman Kim Dal-Kwang used to be one of a kind, but some players were establishing their own domains in Elder Lord now.

“She earned the trust of the lord through her sharp and expert handling of matters. What interests you about those cursed by the stars?” asked Vigo.

“I was curious because I heard the kingdom also has people cursed by the stars.”

“Haha, yes, Rommel is famous. You will probably see him during the great duel since the king greatly favors him.”

The great duel was a week away.

Both sides kept secret about who would participate in the duel, but the whole southern region knew that it would be a fight between Adantadore and Galadin. They were the strongest and most famous knights from both sides.

Everyone expected the kingdom to win at this rate since Adantadore was an up-and-coming rising star, and Galadin was quite old.

But they didn’t know that Crockta, not Galadin, was Alaste’s representative for the duel.

It was an unforeseen variable.

“Crockta.”

Suddenly, Galadin’s voice called out to him.

Crockta turned his head.

He saw a completely different man from the person he had seen in the lord’s chamber. Back then, he had looked like a dignified old man, but clad in armor with a razor-sharp blade, he was the epitome of a fierce warrior.

Crockta grinned and drew his Ogre Slayer.

“Galadin.”

The two walked to the training grounds located in the knights’ quarters.

They were both swordsmen who had reached the Pinnacle. Their duel would be a silent yet deadly encounter.

“I like your spirit, but I must see it in practice on the battlefield. I become more paranoid the older I get,” said Galadin.

Crockta realized that he had been unable to see Galadin’s true expression because it was clouded by years of wrinkles. Galadin was not a courteous elderly knight.

“Please go easy on me,” replied Crockta with a shrug. “I don’t want to be chided for breaking an old man’s bones.”

“Hahaha.”

In truth, Galadin was far from a gentleman. He was a belligerent fighter.

“The young are so spirited!”

Before Crockta could even get into position, Galdin’s sword cut through him.