Chapter 144
Chapter 144
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 144
Chapter Title: The Execution
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After Uman fainted, Arsen first seized control of all the combat puppets—that is, the knights under domination—with the help of the strike team members.
Then, he reactivated the transfer gate and sent the knights north to rescue the friendly mages.
Fortunately, there was no more fighting.
Berg, another ringleader of the coup, was an opportunist. The moment he faced four knights, he realized there was no chance of victory and surrendered immediately.
If he had tried to take hostages, it could have turned into a tricky situation, so it was a relief for Arsen.
And now, he had called the Starburmi elders to a spot a little away from the others and was exchanging proper greetings with them for the first time.
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Tia, the successor.”
“I’m Arman.”
The two elders, representative moderates within their organization, bowed politely. Tia and Arman Elders.
Both looked well over sixty.
“Pleased to meet you as well. I’m Arsen of Belluan. This is the first time we’re greeting each other in person.”
“No, no. You call yourself a knight, but you’re truly formidable. I might have fallen for you in my younger days.”
Elder Tia smiled and returned the greeting with flattery. In contrast, Arman Elder beside her wore a somewhat sullen expression.
Before Arsen could say anything about the face that seemed almost melancholic at first glance, Latis quietly pointed it out.
“Elder Arman.”
“Ah, forgive this old man’s rudeness... It’s just that things happened so suddenly.”
Thanks to Latis’s earlier whisper explaining the reason, Arsen calmly accepted the apology.
From what he’d heard, Arman Elder was blood brothers with Berg Elder, who had been threatening them under Uman Elder’s orders.
One could only imagine how their parents must have felt. They’d had two sons, and both were mages. Even calling it a twist of probability felt cruel.
In any case, having been imprisoned by his own brother and now forced to decide his brother’s punishment—it couldn’t be pleasant.
“So, has the verdict been decided?”
“Yes. We’ve discussed it among ourselves.”
Latis spoke on behalf of the elders.
“As we mentioned, death for Elder Uman, and for Berg Elder and the other mages... as accomplices, memory erasure and banishment.”
As she said this, Latis subtly glanced at Arsen.
It wasn’t hard to guess she was worried he might find the punishment too lenient and take offense.
Arsen nodded politely and asked in return,
“Memory erasure and banishment—what exactly does that entail?”
“We strip them of all relics and valuables, allow them only the clothes on their backs, and drive them out. Wiping all memories related to the organization.”
“Is that possible? I’ve heard memory erasure spells can’t cover that long a period.”
From what Arsen recalled, memory erasure spells could erase about a month for knights and half a year for commoners.
Starburmi mages had likely spent nearly their entire lives in the community—half a year was absurdly short.
When he raised the point, Latis nodded emphatically.
“You know your stuff. The solution is simple: multiple mages take turns erasing memories. It’s painful, with potential side effects... but it’s punishment.”
She added that since they typically joined Starburmi around twenty at latest, or as young as ten, erasing everything after that age would cause mental regression or intelligence decline.
This was essentially no different from a death sentence. The world wasn’t kind enough for mentally stunted mages to survive without relics.
“In effect... it’s as good as execution.”
“Yes. The harshest punishment we can mete out short of death.”
To Arsen, it seemed even harsher than execution.
Just as he wondered if he’d misread their reaction earlier, Latis added,
“If Sir Arsen finds it insufficient, we can reconsider...”
“No, not at all. That seems sufficient. I’m impressed by your decisiveness.”
There was no need to forcibly kill people who’d end up worse than dead, risking backlash.
Intimidation had served its purpose—Arsen had already proven his overwhelming might. Now was the time for carrots, not whips.
Sure enough, at his words, the tension on the elders’ faces eased, as if they felt respected.
Gaining confidence from his friendly demeanor, Elder Latis added calmly,
“Banishment nearby could spark rumors or loose ends, so we’ll send them all through the transfer gate and sever the connection. Nothing more certain.”
Transfer gates required mutual activation from both sides, so as Latis said, it was the surest exile.
Considering the distance to the northern gate—even at full gallop on a magic beast, it would take months—and inter-estate travel difficulties, they’d never return.
Having packed all useful items from their homes, the exiles would truly start bare.
Arsen nodded in agreement, finalizing the punishment accord.
Then, glancing at the Starburmi mages huddled together in the distance, he said cautiously,
“However... the mages’ conditions are worse than expected.”
As he said, most Starburmi mages were far from whole.
Elders Tia and Arman looked intact outwardly, but Latis was missing three fingers on one hand.
And the twenty or so mages clustered nearby? Few had all limbs intact.
Even the hardliners who’d joined Uman to attack Arsen’s group were the same.
The strike team, all physically healthy, stood out like anomalies.
“Yes. Growth phases aren’t kind, so by the time they join, something’s usually damaged. Recent injuries get healed, but most...”
Then, a voice called Latis from somewhere.
She excused herself politely, turned to the subordinate, and demanded coldly what the matter was. Her demeanor was icy and imperious.
Polite only with Arsen, she was a cold leader within the organization.
“What is it? I said not to interrupt important talks.”
“S-sorry, Elder. It’s Elam...”
At mention of Elam causing a scene where the prisoners were bound, Latis frowned and asked Arsen’s permission to step away.
“Let’s go together. I need to know what’s happening.”
Latis made a subtle face but nodded.
Moments later, they reached the prisoners.
Coup participants lined up bound awaited punishment, with a sobbing boy beside them.
A boy of about ten, missing one eye and several fingers.
A strike team mage stood nearby looking troubled; the boy clung to his leg, whining.
Spotting Latis, the boy rushed to her, pleading.
“Elder! Please save my uncles and aunts quick! Weird people tied up my uncles and aunts...”
Unable to continue, the boy wailed as if hyperventilating.
The mage who’d called Latis protested aggrievedly.
“I told him it’s not allowed, but he won’t listen. Can’t force him off either...”
One key Starburmi taboo: touching child mages.
Lowly commoners—servants—must defer, and even adult mages lacked authority to use force on children.
This child-revering culture stemmed from mages’ non-hereditary bloodlines.
Only Elder Latis could remove Elam by force, but she lifted the boy tenderly, contrasting her earlier demeanor.
Stroking his back, she soothed gently.
“There, calm down, Elam. Your uncles and aunts... did very bad things. They’ll be punished. We’ll be apart for a while.”
“What bad things?”
Latis paused, choosing words.
“They tried to endanger our community just because of differing opinions. Remember before we met?”
The boy shuddered. Pre-Starburmi life—abuse in the fortress—was nightmarish.
“Yes...”
“We could all have ended up like that. It was so bad, they must be punished. We won’t see them for a while, but if you grow into a fine mage, Elam, we’ll meet again someday.”
The boy seemed not to grasp fully, but Latis persuaded him with excruciating patience, frustrating onlookers.
After some time—convinced or exhausted—the boy was handed to a subordinate. Latis returned, apologizing profusely.
“Sorry for wasting your time, sir...”
“No, it was heartwarming.”
Nodding, Latis said firmly.
“Then, let’s begin the punishment immediately. Ideally, out of sight of Elam and the other children...”
“Understood.”
Soon, punishment commenced.
Prisoners, arms bound behind, were dragged to the transfer gate.
Remembering knight Lasur from the ancient ruins, Arsen had advised preemptive measures: all relics and trinkets stripped.
A single warm leather garment each—to avoid freezing.
“P-please forgive me, Elder! I was wrong. It won’t happen again, please...!”
“Begin.”
Despite desperate pleas, Latis’s command held no hesitation.
The other two elders stood somberly beside her.
Starburmi was small.
Total mages, including strike team: fifty to sixty.
Fifteen under punishment—a hefty portion. Some were core members; others retired from the “guard squad,” as they called the strike team.
Without the fiasco, they’d be revered.
Punishment began.
Mages alternated, searing memories amid endless screams.
Someone cast a spell and sighed—fatigue from mana drain, or anguish at punishing kin? Only they knew.
Dozens of minutes later, the noise ceased.
Unconscious mages were exiled one by one through the gate. To some barren, frigid northern waste.
After the last, they warped the gate’s link.
They could never return.
Finally, Uman’s execution remained.
The blinded old mage—for anticipated resistance—looked a decade older, face slack.
Hearing footsteps as Latis approached, Uman asked.
“Who’s the one killing me?”
“It’s me, Elder Uman.”
Recognizing the voice, Uman laughed weakly.
“Not that young knight pup, but you?”
“Yes. Better we handle it internally... for future cooperation.”
No casualties on Arsen’s side during the betrayal fight.
Rino’s deep stomach stab healed quickly with spells.
Traitors captured alive, processed internally—no grudge potential.
“Fine, kill me.”
Stretching his neck, Uman awaited.
Eyeless, one-armed, immense mana useless—he couldn’t resist.
Feeling a hand on his neck, Uman uttered final words.
Like a curse.
“You’ll regret this someday...”
“We’ll strive not to.”
Light flashed from Latis’s hand, blood sprayed.
Uman’s head hit the ground.