Pendant? (2)
Ifrin stared at Longdalp with her eyes wide as saucers. Longdalp chuckled, stroking his chin beard.
Pendant.
She had no idea what it was, but apparently, Deculein carried around a photo of her from when she was a child.
And it was so worn that he'd even asked for it to be restored.
"Keh heh heh."
No, why on earth would Professor Deculein...?
No matter how much she puzzled over it, Ifrin couldn't make sense of it.
Was Longdalp lying to her, maybe?
"It's funny. Real funny."
That didn't make sense either.
He'd seemed a bit pervy just now, but Grandpa Longdalp was an Ether rank super-ultra-amazing mage.
Why would a famous guy like that lie to someone like her? What would he gain?
"......"
At the same time, Ifrin recalled the kindness Deculein had shown her so far.
From quashing her disciplinary action to approving her club, fair evaluations, and more.
She'd thought it was just guilt toward her father... but her mind soon plunged into chaos.
"Um, that pendant—"
"Keh heh. Interview's over. And if you must, don't tell Deculein I said anything. I don't wanna get hated on in my old age. Oh, and that's not a request—it's a warning?"
Longdalp grinned.
Ifrin swallowed hard and looked at him.
"......Just one more thing."
"Ten thousand elne."
"Pardon?"
"That's the value of my word. Deculein gladly paid fifty thousand elne."
"Fifty thousand elne... Um, could I maybe do it for a hundred elne? I'm still a student—"
*
Bam—!
The interview room door slammed shut.
Booted out mid-haggle, Ifrin staggered along until she ran into Kariksel. He looked like he'd just finished his interview too.
Deculein's interview.
Ifrin's eyes sparkled as she rushed over.
"Kariksel! Kariksel!"
"Ah, yes. What's up?"
"How'd the interview go? What was it about?"
"Haha... Well... I wouldn't know."
"?"
Ifrin tilted her head. Kariksel scratched his temple and answered.
"I forfeited."
"......Pardon?"
"They give you Soda rank just for passing the first exam... Honestly, I don't need more than that."
"Ah... Yeah, I guess. You must miss your kids, huh?"
Kariksel's goal had been Soda from the start. Ifrin figured that was it, and Kariksel nodded.
"......Haha. Yeah. They keep popping into my head."
"Still, when you get back to the continent, who knows when we'll meet again. I know an amazing restaurant. You know Roahawk?"
Ifrin regretted he wouldn't push further, but at least the Soda exam had netted her a good connection.
"Roahawk... Yes. Sounds good."
"It's gonna be delicious!"
Ifrin walked the corridor with Kariksel, seeing him off.
The hall held passers like Rayleigh and Dozmu, alongside failed mages, all with varied expressions.
In the corner of the corridor, that pointy tent was probably Sylvia's.
Ifrin, exhausted from the exam, envied that Tri-Color magic anew.
"Ifrin."
"Yes?"
Ifrin turned back to Kariksel. Gripping the exit door handle, he smiled warmly at her.
"Take care of yourself. It was nice meeting a future pillar, even if briefly."
"Huh? Future pillar...?"
Rumble—!
Suddenly, an earthquake hit.
Ifrin flinched and looked up at the ceiling.
Boom—! Boom—!
The vibrations continued. Adventurers took it in stride, accustomed to surprises, but the mages were rattled.
Supervisor Mimic said,
"Everyone, calm down. It's nothing serious."
Just then, Deculein emerged from the interview room. With only two selectors, he had time to spare and walked under the examinees' gazes.
Sylvia, having dismantled her tent, watched him too.
Step— step—
Ifrin scrutinized Deculein approaching the exit, searching specifically for the pendant.
No sign of it on him... but with that personality, he'd never make it obvious.
Suddenly, Deculein stopped right in front of her. Ifrin looked up at him and swallowed.
No way, she thought, but he said,
"Step aside."
"......Ah. Yes."
Ifrin and Kariksel moved immediately. Supervisor Mimic told Deculein,
"Please assess the situation first. I'll follow."
Deculein exited without reply. Ifrin watched his departing back intently.
"Um... I didn't even take the exam."
A sad voice spoke. It was Mayho, lips pursed as if waiting for Deculein's interview.
"Ah, please wait a moment. It'll be over soon. Everyone, stay inside!"
Supervisor Mimic returned to the hall. Ifrin shifted her gaze to the now-empty exit.
"Hoo..."
Taking a deep breath, Ifrin slipped out. Thud-thud-thud—she chased Deculein up the underground stairs.
......As security chief for the Soda exam, I am flying.
Not figuratively—literally soaring atop a platform woven from six steel poles. Whoosh—.
A new technique far faster than Iron Man running.
"Is it those guys from yesterday?"
—Not sure. Can't see through this magic glass either.
Ruina said via crystal orb.
—Damn... It's all darkness.
The intruders I'd chased last night vanished at some point. Even steel resonance couldn't track them.
—Wait a bit? I'll head out too. On horseback, it'll be quick.
As Ruina chattered, I arrived first at the site.
"......"
And lost my words.
It was that bizarre a massacre.
—I sent Whisper first, so—
"Disconnect."
I cut the link.
Standing still, I gazed at the grotesque scene etched on my retinas.
Drip-drip-drip—
Liquid like stream water from beyond touched my shoe sole.
......Thick, red blood.
Fishy stench vibrating madly through the area.
Sliced flesh and churned guts.
Brains surging from severed skulls.
"......"
I was uncharacteristically flustered.
Human remains piled into a mountain. Shredded like debris—roughly a hundred bodies.
I checked with Telekinesis. Many corpses neatly bisected from face to toe, but some named ones too.
'Druman,' Altar's action captain. Fittingly resisted fiercely, torn apart.
"Fascinating."
No clue who did this.
Vibrations started less than a minute ago. How slaughter an entire unit in 60 seconds?
Some bisected cleanly like measured, others shredded messily.
Magic? Trait? Unknown.
As if sliced clean with space itself...?
"......I've seen this before."
With space.
Skin cleaved.
A vivid memory replayed.
This wound matched the inexplicable phenomenon that once took 'Veron''s wrist.
......Then.
Rustle—
Faint presence in the bushes.
I turned there.
"......You."
The hider.
Ifrin puffed her cheeks like a hamster.
*
"Ah. Um..."
Ifrin glanced between Deculein and the corpse mountain beyond. His piercing gaze chilled her.
She hesitated, stepping forward tentatively.
"Do not approach."
Deculein halted her.
Moonlight traced his sharp jaw and nose bridge. Stark shadows split his face. Like a masked ghost.
"You will get blood on you."
"......Pardon?"
He was scary enough before the bodies, but that cold voice hit differently today.
Ifrin stared blankly at him.
"Debutante Ifrin! What are you doing here? Go back now!"
Ruina arrived late on horseback. Ifrin backed away slowly but didn't avert her eyes from Deculein.
Whiiiish—!
Suddenly, flying objects rose over the training island sky. Knights in magic-engine light aircraft, emergency dispatch.
They entered to protect from intruders... but...
"What in the world!"
Hundreds of fragments and flesh strewn on the ground.
Only cleanup left.
Deculein shrugged, disclaiming.
"I must clarify: this is not my doing."
"Pardon? Ah, yes......"
The knights nodded awkwardly. But no one seemed to believe him.
Deculein scanned them. No Julie.
One knight spoke instead.
"Knight Julie will be delayed. She got lost en route."
"......Understood."
I nodded. Of course—with her Pathfinder penalty trait.
Blazing sun poured perpendicular on the wasteland.
Yukline's proxy lord and Deculein's half-sister, Yeriel, arrived at Rohalak Detention Camp with imperial folk.
"Well..."
First impression: awe at its vastness.
"They built it huge."
She muttered snidely; the eunuch beside her smiled.
"Yes. Could hold over a million."
"A million? Anyway, when does internment start?"
A million. Rohalak's area could fit more, but environment was the issue.
Supply-poor region—10k internees would starve en masse. No farming in this wasteland.
The eunuch said,
"Altiegue form many secret societies in the shadows."
"You're locking their leaders here?"
"No. Leaders executed; small fry only. Starting with unregistered Altiegue."
Yeriel placed hands on hips, exasperated.
"So how distinguish unregistered Altiegue? What if records wrong, innocents locked up?"
"Ah~ This is where late emperor's wisdom shines. Records exist. Local ledgers list Altiegue too. Their births are demonic, right? Born in blood clots."
"......"
Yeriel shook her head.
This eunuch missed the point entirely.
Asked about record errors, he cites older records—what then?
"Also pinpointed their Altar temples."
"Touching religion?"
"Not religion. Heresy. Paladins will handle."
Yeriel nodded reluctantly.
Emperor's will, Deculein involved—Yukline had no choice.
She'd exploit their labor. 10k or million Altiegue, letting them starve was mutual waste.
"Oh. Sir Betan praises Ritali soup from Light and Salt highly."
"Not my taste."
"Ah... Really?"
"If you want, I could snag a seat."
"Ah! Then for us four—Gah?!"
The crowned eunuch's eyes bulged. A finger-sized scorpion scuttled near.
Halak scorpion. Small but deadly venom kills knights.
"Proxy lord, careful, careful, aaagh!"
Eunuch panicked; Yeriel glared.
"Why freak over a scorpion? How'd you come here?"
"Ah, s-sorry. But that scorpion..."
"Shh. It'll scare and sting. Shut up."
Yeriel extended a finger to the scorpion. Eunuch gaped, but it climbed meekly like a lamb.
"......Isn't that a halak scorpion?"
"Yep. Rohalak, so halak scorpion."
"C-careful. Deadly venom."
"Shh."
Yeriel chatted with it—how, why here?
Nearby village, it replied.
"Seems a village nearby."
"Oh......"
Eunuch marveled. Yeriel smirked, extending the finger.
"Shoo~"
"Aaaaaaah—!"
"......"
"Aaaah—! Stop—!"
Over-the-top reaction. Yeriel chuckled dryly, telling the scorpion,
"Go back to friends and family."
"Amazing talent, even second time, Yeriel."
Another eunuch approached. Yeriel frowned at his face.
"Nice to see you. Seven years? You've grown."
Eunuch Jolang.
With a guard knight.
"Hmph. Eunuch brings guard knight? Knights serve emperor, not eunuchs?"
"No such divide. Eunuchs, knights—all serve His Majesty."
Yeriel sneered openly at Jolang's reply.
"Touchy Jolang comes to Yukline personally? Riding high lately? Because of rumors emperor favors our head?"
Empire's power hinged on emperor's character, legitimacy.
Late Emperor Krevaim balanced divine-imperial, but shadows hid third force: eunuchs. Bat-like, gnawing both powers.
"Impossible. We are mere shadows of His Majesty."
Krevaim's iron legitimacy curbed eunuchs, but Sophien's pre-ascension rep was slothful ennui.
Eunuchs likely bet on more power than before.
They miscalculated spectacularly.
Lazy Sophien pushed policies fiercely; biggest trust went not to ministers or eunuchs—but Deculein.
"Just here to pass info to you, Yeriel."
"Info?"
"Yes. Count Yukline entrusted territory governance to you?"
Jolang probed based on Deculein-Yeriel moves, Yukline progress.
Yeriel replied calmly.
"Governance? I'm just proxy lord."
"Haha. Yes. Even so, Yeriel."
Jolang whispered low.
"Best not trust the count."
"Pfft."
Acting knowing, but Yeriel just scoffed. Not foolish enough for eunuch tricks.
"Curious how Count Yukline 'truly' views you?"
"......"
Yet Jolang persisted; Yeriel's face hardened.
'Truly' views.
Pretended otherwise, but that anxiety always lurked in her heart.
"Soon, I'll bring proof."
Jolang bowed smiling. Yeriel glared at his crown.
"Done? Eat your Ritali soup and scram."
Turning curtly, she boarded her carriage.
Jolang watched her back, still smiling.
"......Rugen. Jukaken's promised item?"
He asked his knight.
"Ready."
"Content?"
"Old recording of Count Yukline mentioning Yeriel. Got it from poor dark-side cleanup post-Deculein purge. Nothing fatal, but one hit."
Jolang nodded.
"Fetch ASAP. Don't mind cost."
Yukline had long irked Eunuch Jolang.
Harmonious famed house: Yeriel's practical skill, Deculein's fame.
Emperor's favor worst; only crack their bond. Jolang found the way.
"Wonder how long that girl stays so rude......"
Fox-like chuckle, eyes on Yeriel's vanishing carriage.
......The four-day Soda promotion exam ended smoothly.
Altar intrusion midway, but Professor Deculein's brutally ignorant exploits—denied by him—ended it anticlimactically.
Forty including Sylvia, Rayleigh, Dozmu, Mayho, Ifrin passed final third exam. Back at Yukline grand hall for badge ceremony.
"......Soda Ifrin. Well done!"
Chairwoman Adrienne handed her plaque and badge.
"Yep!"
Soda three-stage badge.
Ifrin took it proudly. Easy climb to next two ranks, Kendle and Regello.
"Soda Sylvia! Great job!"
"Yes."
Ifrin and Sylvia clutched badges, certificates, robes, sat.
"Ifrin~ Thanks~ That Roahawk meat you shared got me through~"
Mayho beside her, smiling. Ifrin beamed back.
"No biggie. Tasty, right?"
"Yes~ Super tasty~"
"Heehee. Come to empire later, we'll eat again~ But you buy then."
Chatting, Ifrin glanced at Deculein in VIP seats atop hall. Longdalp and Roserio beside him.
Suddenly.
"......?"
Longdalp glanced her way, whispered to Deculein. He frowned, pulled small pendant from briefcase.
"Ah......!"
The pendant.
That pendant Longdalp mentioned.
Ifrin's breath caught.
"......You say the restoration went wrong."
I showed Longdalp the pendant from my briefcase. He'd suddenly said, 'Think I botched that pendant restore back then. Can I see it?'
"Hm......"
Longdalp peered closely, shook head.
"My mistake, I guess. Looks good. Of course I didn't err."
"......"
Then keh heh heh laughs.
What a hassle. I pocketed the pendant.
Longdalp probed slyly.
"But, Professor Deculein. Mind saying whose kid's in that pendant?"
"What're ya on about, gramps? Can't tell me?"
Roserio butted in, curiosity peaked. Longdalp scowled, shoved her.
"Hey now. Kids scram."
"Ugh, so petty."
I ignored, focused on ceremony.
But Longdalp kept glancing at me, mages, me—grinning keh heh heh.
"Keh heh heh. Fun. Oh, Deculein. Tower reopens soon. Need favors? Ask anytime. One freebie."
That laugh grated. Unclear why, but like chairwoman's vibe.
"Soda Rayleigh! Congratulations!"
Ceremony nearing end.
Attendees: Maho, Ifrin, Sylvia, and... absent now, but I was certain.
Old Veron incident.
Recent massacre.
All...... Allen.
His doing.
"Great! Everyone! Well done~!"
Chairwoman's call; applause rose. I clapped too.
......But.
Someone's gaze burned into me. Eyes boring holes.
Irritated, I turned.
Ifrin.
She flinched away, but clenched fist looked off.
Soda now, plotting some cheeky scheme.
I shook my head.