Chapter 138
Chapter 138
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 138
Chapter Title: Chapter 4. Uruun, the Land of Revelry and Culture
-----------------------------------------------------------------
00138
=============================================================================
──────────────────────
#Setting 8. 「A Blessed Yet Corrupted Nation.」
Uruun is a land blessed by the gods. A bountiful expanse where people gather and harvests nearly double, flanked by majestic peaks piercing the heavens and fed by abundant rivers cascading down from them—this paradise on earth has just one flaw: a scarcity of mineral resources.
With plentiful food, a warm climate, and no shortages...
The people naturally came to see leisurely enjoyment of their stunning natural surroundings as life's greatest pleasure. And that made them indolent.
But the people of the Kingdom of Uruun were no fools. Observing their neighbor, Philoria, they had long realized that protecting what they had required power.
The problem was minerals. They lacked them to recruit and maintain soldiers, and to forge elite knights, they had to import high-quality iron from neighboring nations. So they turned to magic. It offered the clear advantage of letting a few hold off many.
The catch? Becoming a magic warrior required talent. And becoming one meant rising to a position of power in the nation, so naturally, the nobles were replaced by magic warriors.
And with the power to protect themselves secured, they gradually sank into hedonism.
They built lavish edifices, filled them with enchanting songs, delectable liquors and cuisine, female slaves with stunning figures and faces, high-stakes gambling, and tours of breathtaking natural vistas... Uruun became famed across the continent for its revelry and culture, drawing wealthy nobles and merchants from afar.
If you were born into this world, Uruun is one of those must-see destinations.
Whether in your old age or youth, just having visited would give you stories to spin over drinks all night long.
So save up your coin.
And come to this earthly paradise, Uruun.
New cultures and pleasures await unlike any you've known.
Ah, but of course. Money doesn't buy everything. Commit crimes like murder, arson, or robbery, and you won't live to enjoy it—so mind that one thing.
──────────────────────
"Where am I?"
I opened my eyes in the darkness and looked around. Nothing was visible. No top or bottom, no sense of direction—the pitch black was horrifying. It felt like flailing in midair under a levitation spell. I tried to stir my mana, but the mana that always obeyed like a limb wouldn't budge.
"A dream?"
But my mind was sharp, my voice worked, and my arms and legs moved. Frowning in frustration, I looked down at my hand. The fifth Valentine fragment rested there, precious as ever. Even with the fragment, no mana stirred. Dream or not, it was incomprehensible. Sighing, I crossed my arms in uncharacteristic listlessness and drifted through the void.
"What the hell is going on?"
As if responding to my question, the darkness began to show me something. It tugged me forward like a hooked fish, and in an instant, I was inside a lavish mansion. Familiar wallpaper, familiar furniture arrangement, familiar maids.
Everything was recognizable. Of course. This was the Count Raba estate.
A hollow laugh escaped my lips.
"This dream is way too vivid..."
No one could cast an illusion on me, and what were they expecting me to do with this vision anyway? Then, footsteps approached from the hallway behind me. The maid cleaning right in front of me looked up at the sound and turned her gaze.
'Aira.'
Yes, this girl. The maid who cleaned the hallway every morning.
-Did you cough, my lor... d...
She bowed politely to greet me, turning to confirm "my" presence, when out of nowhere, a sharp ice spear sliced through the air and pierced her body. With a dull thud, she flew back and slammed into the wall. Pierced through the heart, she slumped lifeless. Her frilly maid uniform soaked red with blood, dripping onto the floor.
My god.
What just happened? My heart pounded unpleasantly. Not from fear of death, but from the shock that the one who hurled that ice spear was no other than "me." Stunned, staring at Aira pinned to the wall, I turned to see a man pass right through me.
Count Jenuar de Raba.
There I was, staggering in pajamas. Mana activated, I walked about, conjuring ice spears in midair the instant anyone came into view and hurling them. Forming the mana array and gathering ice crystals into a spear took just 1-2 seconds. And the spears struck vital points without fail.
"What are you doing!"
I rushed forward late, grabbing at his shoulder—but my hand passed through, clutching empty air.
—I can't interfere.
As expected of an illusion. Powerless to act, I could only watch the slaughter from a third-person view.
Who could show such a vision to me, possessor of a fragment and top-tier mage among high mages?
It made my blood boil. The mansion turned into a blood-soaked hell of screams in moments. Servants who heard the cries and witnessed the carnage tried to flee outside, but with a wave of the count's hand, every door in the mansion locked itself.
Bang, bang!
Open windows slammed shut, half-open doors closed. Bolts locked by force, reinforced by mana—unbreakable by any means the powerless had.
-Please spare me! My lord! My lor...
-I've done wrong! I'm sorry! I don't know what, but truly sorry! My lord, my lord! Aaaah!
The count butchered them mercilessly as they wailed his name. At least their deaths were swift and painless—their one mercy. Hearing their dying voices filled me with helpless heaviness, able to do nothing.
"......"
Even knowing it was an illusion, seeing the dying maids and butlers stirred guilt. Not my doing, yet I wanted to apologize. Some had served this house for years, others nearly twenty.
Even as illusions, their deaths tormented me. Why was I slaughtering the staff in madness? Watching passively, I grew anxious—illusion, or was I truly being puppeteered to kill them?
But unable to move mana or interfere, all I could do was watch.
'Wait, my wife?'
Always sleeping beside me, rising together for breakfast, sharing every day—she flashed to mind. I spun and raced up the stairs to the bedroom.
Please, no—I burst through the open door.
Creak!
Entering, I gritted my teeth, frowning. My fists clenched, trembling.
"Ha, haha! Whoever you are, you bastard."
Showing me this kind of illusion...?
My wife lay on the bed, ten ice spears impaled in her. Blood from the wounds soaked the sheets and pooled on the floor. My composure shattered. Something boiled in my chest.
KABOOM!
Then an explosion rocked the mansion. Cracks spiderwebbed across floor, walls, and ceiling as it collapsed. Flames erupted from floor fissures, debris rained from above. I could do nothing.
Nothing at all.
I could only harbor seething hatred for whoever showed me this vision.
Once I learned their identity, I'd tear them apart. Not a quick death—I'd heal their wounds to revive them, torment them until they begged for mercy. Until their mind broke completely.
I watched my wife's body vanish amid flames and rubble to the end.
………
……
…
"!"
I gasped awake. An ornate ceiling met my eyes first. Rigid, I rolled them to survey the room.
Early morning sunlight filtered through the window.
Beyond it, the dew-kissed garden. Inside, a small round table held a pitcher and glass.
'A dream...?'
What kind, though? I knew it was nightmarish. But as always, the details evaded me—like veiled memories, teasing but ungraspable.
Then something seized my hand. Startled, I flinched to summon mana but stopped. It was my wife. She'd grabbed it in her sleep.
Gazing at her angelic sleeping face, emotion surged—I gripped her hand tightly. Her presence alone brought relief.
Nightmares plagued me nightly. Their content forgotten even upon waking, leaving deeper unease.
When did it start?
These dreams?
...It was after meeting that boy, Juda Arsher, on the road to Philoria. The count glanced at the ring on his finger.
An antique design.
The "Glorious Valentine," said to be carved from Demon Lord Pernern's own heart, adorned it.
'When I shook that boy's hand...'
The Valentine had resonated, vibrating. And that very night, the inexplicable nightmares began. Too coincidental—the night we shared lodging, no dream came.
Right, that's how it was.
No nightmare then. I even enjoyed the pole festival carefree.
After parting ways post-festival, heading to Rijen, the dreams resumed. Why did it only dawn on me now, after so long?
The count sighed, rising to pour water from the bedside table and gulp it down. Mid-swallow, he sensed an activating mana pulse.
"This is."
Setting the glass down, he analyzed it—someone teleporting into the estate. To teleport here required his mana stone. Daughter and wife were home, so... only one person fit. He'd given a stone to just one upon leaving Philoria after the memorable pole festival.
"Juda Arsher, that boy?"
Perhaps recalling the nightmare's trigger today was no coincidence.
========== Afterword ==========
Next chapter coming soon.