I'm the Crazy One in the Family-Chapter 68: It’s Right in Front of You (5)

A handsome young man with silver hair and long eyelashes created a gust of wind with his fan. Then, the aura emitted from the fan transformed into numerous blasts of shadow energy and scorched the ground. Opposing him was a middle-aged man, who was a typical drunkard—a flushed red face and sleepy, unfocused eyes. The bottle hanging from his waist made it clear he was undeniably a drunk.

However, the greatsword in his hand was no ordinary weapon. It was a massive black greatsword, as tall as a grown man, and he swung it in its sheath. The tremendous wind pressure from his strike shattered the shadow energy.

Each time they clashed, the air seemed to tear apart, and the earth overturned. The match was so close that it didn’t seem like it was going to end.

At that moment, the drunkard took a step back and said, “I’ll give you one last chance.”

Holding his massive black greatword with one hand, he pointed it at the man, dead serious, and raised his voice.

“You need to admit that the apple pie at Joyray’s Tavern is the best!”

The young man narrowed his eyes, covering his mouth with his fan.

“With the money for apple pie, you’d be better off getting a warm, hearty lamb stew instead.”

“Gah! I can’t stand it anymore! I’ll split your head open!”

Enraged again, the drunkard gripped his massive greatsword with both hands and swung it like a wooden stick. In response, the young man deflected the black greatsword with his fan—a daring yet masterful maneuver.

The reason for their fight was utterly trivial, yet they were undeniably serious. Their determination to uphold their beliefs, even at the cost of their lives, was palpable.

That was when Keter arrived. Engrossed in their fight, neither the drunkard nor the young man noticed Keter. Soon after, Luke arrived, glancing back and forth between the two people in battle.

“Keter, should I shoot first?”

Luke had already nocked an arrow and was aiming at the drunkard.

The eyeball collector, Maran! The infamous boss who rules over one district of the Lawless City of Liqueur. His appearance and ferocity certainly matched his notoriety.

Keter, however, grabbed Luke’s bow and redirected it.

“Why are you aiming at my subordinate?”

“Huh?”

“That drunk guy over there—he’s my subordinate.”

“...”

Luke looked again at the drunkard and the young man. The drunkard staggered about, swinging his massive greatsword recklessly. His movements didn’t look impressive—they just seemed drunk.

“The world’s spinning! Woohoo!”

He even spouted nonsense as he slashed at random spots.

But the young man...

He’s elegant.

His sophistication seemed entirely out of place in a lawless city. His attire was a pristine white suit, and the silver fan he wielded as a weapon exuded an air of mystery. Had he been seen in high society, one might have mistaken him for a refined lord of a noble family.

“Come to think of it, in some ways, that drunkard really does suit you,” Luke said.

“Are you turning evil, too?”

“Ah, forget it. I’ll just shoot.”

Luke desperately wanted to escape this chaos. Without hesitation, he nocked an arrow infused with aura and shot it at Maran, the young man.

The arrow, fired along the optimal path his misfortune detector indicated, had previously proven difficult even for Jordic to handle.

However...

Whoosh!

“Huh?”

The arrow disintegrated before it even got close to Maran. Maran hadn’t moved a muscle—or at least that’s how it seemed to Luke.

“Was it a defective arrow?”

Luke quickly nocked two arrows this time and shot them together, but the result was the same. Now, he knew something was off. He focused his aura on his eyes, which allowed him to see faint traces of aura and mana flows.

And then he saw it: aura blades swirling and dancing around Maran.

But that wasn’t all. The greatsword wielded by Gyro, whom Luke had dismissed as a dumb drunkard, was much bigger than it appeared to the naked eye. This was the first time Luke had ever witnessed a battle at such an unimaginable level that he couldn’t perceive normally.

“So fights like this... actually exist?”

To Luke, still a mere one-star knight, this was a realm beyond comprehension.

Keter placed a hand on Luke’s shoulder and said, “Don’t get discouraged. You probably don’t even realize how OP your ability is. If you put your mind to it, you could take both of them on at the same time.”

“Me? Seriously?!”

“In about ten years.”

“...”

“Watch closely and learn, kid.”

Keter strode confidently toward the space between the two. Luke swallowed nervously.

Even while standing still, Maran’s aura blades orbited him, tearing apart the surrounding space. Gyro’s greatsword sent shockwaves rippling dozens of meters away with every swing. And yet Keter walked right into the middle of their monstrous battle.

Keter’s strong, but I don’t think he stands a chance compared to those two...

To Luke, Keter’s strength didn’t lie in raw power. Instead, words like “technique,” “unpredictability,” and “trickery” came to mind when he thought of Keter.

Should I ready a magic arrow? Or use Aura Arrows? Maybe even cast a spell?

Luke reassured himself that Keter must have some kind of plan.

“All right, everyone—let’s stop fighting now.”

Keter walked into battle, completely unguarded. He turned his back on Maran and addressed Gyro, without even an aura shield to protect him. Moreover, both of them were in the midst of unleashing devastating attacks, as if preparing their ultimate strikes.

“Keter!”

Was it even possible to cancel an attack once it was already in motion? In archery, it wasn’t; once an arrow was unleashed, there was no way it could be retrieved. The same principle applied to other weapons. A greatsword already descending carried not just strength but also the forces of gravity and acceleration, so stopping it mid-swing was practically impossible.

Likewise, the aura blades emanating from Maran’s fan could be launched, but they couldn’t be retracted once released.

Luke realized the imminent danger and threw himself forward. He had an ability that could reflect attacks. Though he still didn’t fully understand how it worked, that didn’t matter right now. His sole focus was on saving Keter.

But Luke was too slow, and Maran and Gyro’s attacks were far too fast.

* * *

Luke thought it was impossible to retrieve an attack that was already cast, but it was possible. The power to turn the impossible possible came from aura, mana, and special abilities. Aura enhanced physical abilities, and when at the extreme, it could stop a greatsword swung down with sheer wrist strength alone. Though was widely believed that aura was uncontrollable, it was a different story when one reached the ultimate level. At that point, aura could be controlled like mana.

Fwoosh!

Gyro’s massive greatsword halted above Keter’s head, while Maran’s Aura Blade rose skyward from the back of Keter’s head. The forced cancellation of their attacks created a spatial rupture, unleashing a violent gust of wind.

With his hands in his pockets, Keter commented, “Refreshing.”

The gale ferociously pushed against nearby buildings and tore a giant hole in the clouds above.

Keter casually fixed his disheveled hair.

“Gyro, you should respond when I call. I’m your employer. Should I really have to come looking for you?”

Canceling an attack midway usually placed immense strain on the body, often leading to severe injuries.

Yet Gyro seemed completely unaffected as he replied, “Haha, if the boss calls, I’ll come running. But this guy is mocking apple pie. He says he would rather spend that money on lamb stew!”

Gyro glared at Maran, who folded his fan and retorted, “Hmph. With the money for one apple pie, you can buy three bowls of lamb stew. You can’t deny that lamb stew is superior to apple pie in price, nutrition, and taste.”

“What did you just say, you punk?!”

The two bickered with Keter caught between them.

Clicking his tongue, Keter said, “Seriously? Fighting over food like children? Let me settle this: a whole roasted pig is the ultimate winner.”

Keter introduced a new contender. Unsurprisingly, neither Gyro nor Maran agreed, both glaring at him. Their standoff soon included Luke.

“Um, can’t you all just respect each other’s personal tastes?” Luke suggested hesitantly.

At that, the three turned their gazes to Luke. Luke felt his breath catch. They weren’t emitting killing intent, but it felt like their stares alone were suffocating his very soul.

"Who's this little one, boss?" Gyro asked.

"My friend, assistant, subordinate, and business partner."

"Hmm. My sword is itching to cut this one down. Where did you get him?"

"Found him lying on the roadside. So, I decided to take him."

"Hey, Keter. Could you not treat me like an object? I'm an official knight of Sefira, you know."

"A knight of Sefira?"

Maran showed interest in Luke.

"Hoooh, those eyes... I sense immense power. They're unlike any I've seen before."

As Maran, the Eye Collector, showed interest in his eyes, Luke instinctively stepped back.

"You can't have my eyes."

"I don't usually ask for permission. Then how about a trade? If you give me your left eye, I'll replace it with something better. Go ahead, take your pick."

Maran rolled up his right sleeve, and Luke was struck speechless. His arm was lined with eyes of various colors and shapes, each staring at Luke as if pleading for help.

"Ugh! What the hell is that?!"

"Please, don’t call it grotesque. This silver eye here belonged to a four-circle frost mage, and the green one beside it is from an elf. Want me to transplant one for you? Imagine using magic or communicating with spirits—it’s a one-of-a-kind experience."

"Even if you offered it for free, I would refuse!"

"That’s a shame. If it weren’t for Keter, I’d have plucked out your beautiful eyes right here and now."

Keter waved Maran off dismissively.

"Enough. We’re busy, so leave—or we settle this here and now."

"Hohoho... I am not afraid of Gyro, wielder of the Demon Sword. But you, Keter, you’re a monster. Wherever you’ve been these past four days, you’ve changed. Your very presence is different. I’ll retreat for now since I don’t yet have the confidence to take your two eyes intact."

"I told you; if you want them, bring me one hundred million gold."

"That might actually be faster...."

With that, Maran suddenly turned into smoke and vanished.

"What... what was that? How did he do that? Was that magic too?"

As Luke made a big fuss, Gyro downed a drink and laughed.

"Keh keh keh. Boss, seems like you’re planning to raise this one. You’re in for some trouble."

"I’m already wondering if I’ll even break even."

"Hey, kid. What’s your name? As you’ve heard, I’m Gyro."

"Ahem, I’m Sir Luke, a holy knight of the Sacred Order of Sefira."

"A knight of Sefira in a place like Liqueur? That’s rare. Anyway, nice to meet you. Have a drink."

Gyro held out a drink, mirroring Keter’s earlier gesture.

Luke refused and asked, "Gyro, you look incredibly strong. Why are you serving under Keter?"

Gyro took another swig, gulping it down. He held up his bottle and replied, "See this? This is the price I paid to become his subordinate."

Luke was baffled.

"You became Keter’s subordinate... for a bottle of liquor?"

"Haha, it may look like just a bottle to you, but to me, it’s the water of life. Without it, I couldn’t handle this."

Gyro subtly revealed his massive greatsword. Luke had already sensed its ominous presence.

"Earlier, Maran called you the wielder of the Demon Sword. Is that true?"

"It’s called Obelisk."

A Demon Sword was an artifact imbued with the power of a dark god. It granted immense strength at a steep cost, but most of its wielders met a tragic end.

Familiar with the rumors, Luke eyed Gyro skeptically.

"Haha, everyone gives me that look. No need to worry. I’ll be fine as long as I don’t unsheath it."

"So that’s why you didn’t unsheath it when fighting Maran earlier."

"Hm? Oh, that’s just because I was confident I could beat him without it."

"Ah, I see... So, Keter,” Luke said, turning to Keter. "Now that we’ve found Mr. Gyro, what’s next? Do we head to the Luban family together, then meet Commander Zerphi?"

Luke assumed the reason they sought Gyro was his connection to Zerphi. Hearing this, Keter and Gyro exchanged glances.

"So that was the reason you came to see me? I didn’t expect that at all."

Luke had a glimmer of hope when he saw Gyro’s reaction, which seemed like he knew something.

"Just as I thought. You must know Commander Zerphi, right? If we meet him, you can get us a recommendation letter, correct? You’re not planning to cause chaos like Keter, threaten him with your Demon Sword, or do something reckless, are you?"

If something like that happened, Luke thought his mental strength might give out before his physical endurance."

“Kekekeke.”

"Hahaha!"

At that moment, Gyro and Keter burst into laughter.

"W-what’s so funny? Keter?"

Luke was bewildered. The two of them were laughing like madmen.

Oh, right. Keter’s always been crazy.

With a slightly clearer mind, Luke snapped, "Stop laughing and say something! What’s next on the plan?"

"Ahahaha, there’s nothing left to do. It’s over."

"What are you talking about?! We haven’t even met the Sword of the South yet!"

"He’s right here, in front of you—the Sword of the South."

Keter pointed at Gyro, the drunkard who was still drinking and spilling alcohol all over himself. How could he possibly be Zephri, the Sword of the South?

"Keter, stop messing with me. I’m serious here!"

"Gyro, reintroduce yourself. The kid’s too skeptical to believe it."

"Ahem, fine. Time to bring out the voice I haven’t used in a while."

"You're joking again, aren’t you... Huh...?"

Gyro’s demeanor shifted instantly, from a sloppy, defenseless middle-aged drunkard to a conqueror commanding the battlefield. The overwhelming pressure made Luke’s hands and feet tremble uncontrollably. He felt like he might lose control if he let his guard down even slightly.

Even Gyro’s previously dull eyes now burned brightly like a blazing sun.

In a thunderous voice, Gyro introduced himself.

"My name is Gyro. A royal knight, the eldest son and sole survivor of the fallen Shuvil family. I am the wielder of the Demon Sword Obelisk, and..."

Shink.

"The Seventh Sword of the South.”