Chapter 201
Chapter 201
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 201
Chapter Title: Jaeger (1)
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The missing Secret had transformed into a fluffy-furred werefox. Ronan and Adeshan stood frozen in disbelief. The innkeeper hurried over upon seeing Secret descend.
"Ah, you're awake. Shall I prepare breakfast for today?"
"No, that's fine. There's still some left from last night. Were those ruffians who just caused the commotion some of Jaeger's lackeys by any chance?"
"No. Just some local street thugs. You know the type—guys whose only claim to fame is that they were lowly rebels in the past uprising."
"Good. Anyway, breakfast is fine. Thanks for looking after me."
"No trouble at all. Let me know if you need anything."
The innkeeper returned to the kitchen. From the conversation, it seemed Secret had been staying at this inn for quite some time.
Normally, Ronan would have asked who this Jaeger fellow was, but right now, he had no curiosity left. Because, damn it all, a white, fluffy tail was swishing behind Secret's back. He approached with hands clasped behind him and spoke nonchalantly.
"You've heard the news that the capital has reclaimed spring. You did a great job."
Ronan didn't respond. He couldn't accept that this bipedal arctic fox was his professor. Turning into a girl had been shocking enough, but now a beastkin? Secret chuckled at the stunned Ronan.
"You look like you have a lot of questions. Fair enough."
"...Hold on a sec."
Suddenly, Ronan took a big swig from his glass of distilled liquor. As expected from northern brew, it had a high proof. A faint vanilla aroma bloomed in his throat as the liquor burned its way down.
Hmm, definitely good stuff. Ronan wiped his mouth and set down the glass. The bipedal arctic fox stood exactly where it had been. Above the diminutive shoulders, familiar mana still wafted faintly. Ronan covered his face with both hands and spat out a curse.
"Fuck."
It wasn't a mental distortion from shadow mana. The one before his eyes was truly Secret. He pulled up a chair and joined them at the table.
"It's been a while, Student Council President Adeshan. How have you been?"
"I-Is this really Professor Secret...? W-Well, I've been fine, at least."
"I see. Dating your boyfriend and traveling all the way up north together. Well, I figured it out from the letter you wrote when this guy was trapped in ice."
"B-Boyfriend? Ronan's just...!"
Adeshan's face turned apple-red. She opened and closed her mouth, trying to explain, but only incoherent babble spilled out. Things like "Ahh," "I mean," "Ughhh." She could have just said junior or friend, but why was she like that?
"Just... nyaang..."
Suddenly, the flustered Adeshan gulped down the liquor from the glass in front of her. She tilted her head back without pause and then slumped forward. The glass she set down was empty.
"Puha...!"
"You okay? It's pretty strong."
"Yeah... I think so. Not bad...?"
Vanilla scent wafted from Adeshan's mouth each time she spoke. Seeing her mild reaction, Ronan let out a hollow laugh. It was worlds apart from Erzsebet, who got drunk off a sip of grape juice that was basically a beverage. Is she better at holding her liquor than me? Guess drinking talent is innate too.
They went ahead and ordered a whole bottle of liquor. For snacks, melted cheese and crackers arrived. Adeshan seemed to like the distilled liquor quite a bit and started sipping it steadily without even toasting. Ronan swept back his bangs and turned to Secret again.
"So... why is the professor here? Why didn't you return to Phileon?"
"There were circumstances. I'll explain that later—let's talk about something else first. Why did you come north?"
"We stopped by Heiran on the way, and now we have to go to the Sea of Ghosts. Senior came along to visit the forge and help me out... Ah, seriously, can you leave that tail alone?"
"It's just excitement. It moves on its own with emotions—I can't control it. It's something I only learned after becoming a beastkin myself."
The tail dangling under the chair wagged nonstop. Secret added trivia about his ears working the same way—information no one had asked for. As Ronan took another swig, Secret's eyebrows twitched.
"You're still a student—aren't you drinking too much? Well, not Phileon, so it doesn't matter."
"I feel like I need it to cope. How the hell did you end up like this?"
"While searching ancient northern ruins for magic to melt the Winter Witch's ice, this happened. A regrettable accident."
"Is there a way to change back?"
"Of course, right now if I wanted. But I don't know how to avoid it happening again, so I'll stick like this for a while. Isn't it fun?"
Ronan's head throbbed. Good thing there was no pipe; otherwise, he'd have burned through a whole pouch right there. From what he heard, Secret's condition was an even worse clusterfuck than two years ago.
Excluding the beastkin transformation curse, the other curses still coiled inside him. The Sphinx's gender-swap and age-fluctuation curse persisted, so he ended up as a female werefox who grew younger by day and older by night. Questionable if this could even be called human anymore. Secret continued.
"But it's not as bad as you think. Surprisingly, there are quite a few upsides over being human."
"Sure. Like scratching itchy ears with your hind leg?"
"That's one of the perks. If you're okay with it, tell me about the recent happenings in the outside world. I've been completely cut off for the last few months."
"...Sure."
Ronan nodded. Shocking as the change was, Secret—who had lifted his curses—was undeniably his benefactor. Looking closer, it seemed better than when he'd been a little girl.
Ronan detailed his two-year odyssey through the Mental World and everything after awakening. The Winter Witch, Rorhon, the impromptu imperial audience, and the showdown with Darman atop Parjan's summit. Hearing about Nebula Klage, Secret's eyes sparkled with interest.
"Heh, I didn't know it was such a vicious organization. Showing their hand at the Festival of Swords? They really shot themselves in the foot."
"Thanks to that, all the bigwigs know now. Their branches across the continent are being dismantled."
"Good riddance."
Secret smiled. Ronan was pleased to share the info but thought it was a bit much.
Not knowing about that massive incident at the Festival of Swords? As the professor said, he'd been seriously detached from the world. Secret lapped at the liquor in a wide saucer and muttered softly.
"Hmm... So is what's happening here related to those fanatics? This might be more serious than I thought."
"Hm? Something happen in Rundalian?"
"Yes. More precisely, the North. You came north at a dangerous time."
Secret's face grew grave. Ronan tilted his head at the ominous words.
"A dangerous time?"
"Yes. If you're okay with it, let's continue in my room. It's not the kind of talk for an open place."
Suddenly, Secret stood. Ronan rose curiously at the abrupt shift but followed. He tapped the shoulder of Adeshan, who was drinking alone.
"Senior, you good?"
"Yeah... Feels fine. Tasty."
Adeshan smiled softly. There was a coquettish nasal tone, but she seemed calm enough—no issues. Confirming the bottle was empty, Ronan raised an eyebrow.
She drank the whole thing by herself?
It was nearly twenty glasses' worth. A natural boozehound. He'd never drunk with her in his past life, so he hadn't known. Ronan subtly stopped her from bringing another glass to her lips.
"That's enough now. You've had plenty."
"Aang, meanie."
Adeshan puffed her cheeks after losing the glass. Her flushed face looked playful yet somehow seductive. Anyway, had she just said "aang"? Must've misheard.
"Ah, wait."
Then Adeshan suddenly leaned in close. Her large ash-gray eyes sparkled right in front of him. At the nose-touching distance, Ronan inhaled sharply.
"...What?"
"You got something here."
Suddenly, Adeshan reached out and rubbed Ronan's mouth corner with her index finger. A cracker crumb the size of a fingernail came off. Probably from chatting with Secret. She naturally put her finger in her mouth, pulled it out, and smiled coyly.
"Haha, you have your clumsy side too."
Such provocative behavior left Ronan speechless. It was fearsome in a different way from Erzsebet's fire-magic bravado when drunk. Secret tapped his back with his tail and whispered.
"I thought so earlier, but you two suit each other."
"It's not like that."
Ronan shook his head after splashing water on his face. He hadn't drunk much, but he felt buzzed. His long-lost professor was a beastkin, and the former boss he admired was acting all cutesy out of nowhere... Well, the latter wasn't bad.
"Anyway, let's head up."
In any case, Ronan and Adeshan followed Secret to the second floor. His room was in the farthest corner.
The door shimmered with a dense mana barrier at a glance—a security spell Ronan had seen before. Secret gripped the handle, muttered a specific incantation, and only then did the barrier vanish, opening the door.
"It's messy and humble, but come in."
"This is..."
Ronan's eyes widened upon entering. Secret's room felt worlds apart from the tidy Sepharaccio two years ago. Books, clothes, scribbled papers littered everywhere. White fur clumps—presumably body hair—rolled like tumbleweeds.
A blanket embroidered with "Human Exclusive" was shoved in the corner, looking like it housed something small and sinister—no way he'd touch it. In short, it was a disaster. After surveying the room, Ronan spoke.
"...Yeah, it's really humble and messy."
"Ahem, I did warn you."
"What the hell have you been doing to end up like this?"
Seemed like turning werefox had made his habits dog-like too. At least he used the bathroom for necessities—small mercies. The tipsy Adeshan kept bumping her forehead against Ronan's back, giggling idly. Secret scratched his head awkwardly.
"I've been here about a month. Busy with Haedu research and tracking Jaeger's gang—no time for cleaning."
"Haedu? Jaeger?"
Jaeger was the name from the innkeeper chat earlier. Secret nodded.
"Yes. The leader of the New Beastkin Alliance that's been rampant lately. Since you don't know, looks like you skipped other cities for Rundalian."
Secret walked to the back and picked up a paper rolling on the floor. A large poster, judging by the ripped edges, featured a massive drawing of a white tiger with an eyepatch.
Not as fierce as Zipa, but still looked like a nasty piece of work. Below the portrait: [Wash the North clean with the blood of inferior races!] As Ronan scrutinized the face while taking the paper...
"No cute bone in this guy's body even if you gouged out his eyes... Hm?"
The face felt oddly familiar. Even accounting for all beastkin looking similar. Finally, dredging up past-life memories, Ronan raised an eyebrow.
"This bastard..."