Chapter 227
Chapter 227
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 227
Chapter Title: Late Summer Turns to Autumn (3)
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The atmosphere had grown awkward for no reason. Ronan pointed at the box and said,
"Anyway, let's open this first and talk."
"Wh-What is this?"
"Equipment from the north. I don't know what's inside yet."
The box from Aurora Scal was smaller than expected. Barely big enough for half a watermelon, giving no clue as to its contents.
'Maybe a hand axe or something?'
Ronan opened the box. A single black glove lay inside, all by itself.
Like the ones knights wore, it extended up to the wrist and was made from some nameless metal. Asel tilted his head.
"...A glove?"
"That's unexpected."
Ronan shrugged his eyebrows. He had assumed it would contain a dagger or throwing stars. He never imagined it wouldn't even be a weapon.
Still, it wasn't bad. As he had said when placing the commission, it was more convenient in every way to use just the one Ramancha rather than fussing with a bunch of weapons.
"It's well-made."
Ronan nodded as he examined the glove. He could tell at a glance that a tremendous amount of care had gone into it. Thousands of tiny metal pieces were fitted together so precisely that not a single gap was visible. A sudden question flashed through his mind.
"But why only one? Were they short on materials?"
"Ronan, there's some paper here."
"Huh?"
Asel called out to him. A single sheet of thick parchment lay in the box. It had been hidden beneath the glove, so they hadn't noticed it at first. Ronan slowly read the writing on the parchment.
"It's meant to be worn on one hand only, so don't complain about being cheated... Try infusing mana into your hand. What does this mean?"
"The glove must have magic engraved on it. I can feel an unusual aura."
"Magic?"
Ronan brought his face closer. Sure enough, squinting his eyes revealed geometric patterns engraved on the back of the hand.
The magic circle was so intricate it seemed etched with a strand of hair, extending all the way to the tips of each finger. When he slipped it on, the glove fit his hand perfectly. It was snug in just the right way, and the fit felt quite comfortable.
'Infuse mana into it.'
Ronan channeled mana as the note instructed. In that instant, the magic circle glowed faintly, and hook-like claws sprouted from the fingertips of the glove.
Clack! The black bladed claws pierced right through the parchment with the sheer force of their growth. Asel flinched and yelped in shock.
"Eek!"
"Oh, shit."
Ronan's eyes widened. He recognized at once that the claws were made from fragments of his broken Ramancha.
They had told him to make use of it at his discretion, but he hadn't expected something like this. It even seemed possible to extend the claws from each finger independently. When he cut off the flow of mana, the claws vanished completely.
"This is good."
He liked it more and more. It was equipment that perfectly satisfied the versatility he valued most in combat. It looked sturdy enough to serve as defense too. He turned to Asel and said,
"If I'd known they'd make it this well, I would've asked them to make one for you too. Sorry about that."
"I-I'm fine. What I have now is enough, yeah."
"Thanks for saying so. Now, let's finish what we were talking about..."
"I'll go with you."
The answer came before he could even finish. Ronan raised an eyebrow. Asel's face, now regaining its calm, was just as serious as his own. Ronan stared at him for a moment before asking again.
"You sure? This time it's no joke."
"Yeah. I'm glad I get to help. You're my first friend, after all."
Asel replied without a single stutter. Suddenly, the image of Asel before enrolling at Phileon flashed before Ronan's eyes. The boy who had struggled to lift even a single person, who had fled from a Luna Goblin in tears and snot, had now become a proud mage.
'Time sure flies.'
Ronan twisted his lips. He didn't know what to call this swelling feeling in his chest. Unable to find the right words, he finally spoke.
"Alright. Thanks."
"B-But can we even go there? Doesn't it not allow humans at all? If we take a dragon's fire head-on...!"
And just like that, Asel began stuttering like a ghost possessed him. The touching moment from moments ago scattered like sand. Ronan shook his head with an involuntary chuckle.
"I've already prepared for that, so no worries. And it's not just the two of us—there's one more."
"One more? Wh-Who?"
"That's..."
Ronan was just about to answer when—
Knock knock. The door opened with quick knocks. Asel's eyes widened round at the sight of the familiar young man.
"Sch-Schlieffen?"
"I wondered who the other one would be, but of course it was you, Asel. I expected as much."
Schlieffen nodded as if to say he knew it all along. A vivid red dragon-shaped emblem was engraved on the back of his left hand—the mark symbolizing him as a servant of Itargand.
"Yeah. Was the mark worth it?"
"Didn't hurt, but it felt damn unpleasant. You can definitely remove this for sure, right?"
"You wanna live a lie? I could remove it right now if you want."
"No need. Hurry up and get it over with. I don't like being away from Lady Iril for long."
Schlieffen said. What a consistent guy. Ronan had planned to recruit him the moment he decided to head to Adren.
In a way, Asel and Schlieffen had oddly similar traits. When asked if he could help, Schlieffen accepted without the slightest hesitation.
Not a word about Iril or other rewards. His response when asked if he was really okay was something to behold.
—What a strange question. Didn't you ask for my help?
Annoying bastard. Ronan muttered inwardly as a faint smile tugged at his lips. His life was full of misfortune, but he seemed blessed with good people. After briefing Asel on the details of the mark, he continued,
"We leave in three days. We'll use teleportation scrolls to reach Tandrei Port at the continent's southern tip, then take the ship Itargand loaned us from there to Adren. Any more questions?"
"H-How long will it take?"
"No idea. But it won't take forever. Worst case, we'd have to fight an angry dragon or Nebula Klazie, and whichever side dies, it'll wrap up quick."
Ronan said matter-of-factly. Asel's face drained white. With no further questions, Ronan declared the meeting over.
"Got it then. Asel, make sure to stop by Iril's and get your mark."
"Y-Yeah. Got it."
The two left. Now, aside from farewells, only one task remained.
Ronan grabbed the documents he had prepared in advance and headed out. Baren wasn't in his office, so he had to search for a while. He found him near the hill of the four seasons, ablaze with maples.
"Well, well."
Baren, whom he hadn't seen in a while, was with Major Nemeia, Jai's adjutant. Walking hand in hand, they looked quite close.
They suit each other. A were-lion couple. Ronan approached stealthily and poked his back.
"Long time no see. Baren."
"Hiii! Ro-Ronan?!"
Baren leaped into the air upon eye contact. True to his feline nature, his jumping power was impressive. Ronan held out the prepared paper.
"Why so startled? Sorry to interrupt your date, but could you check this?"
"D-Date? It's not like that. Miss Nemeia and I are just...!"
Baren sputtered nonsense. It was impressive how someone his size could fail so spectacularly. Nemeia, staring at him, furrowed her brow.
"I thought it was a date."
"Hii! W-Well, of course it is. But...!"
Nemeia sighed as she looked at the pitiful Baren. It was hard to believe this was the same man who had clashed with Jai in a battle of wills at the palace. Growing impatient, Ronan stuffed the documents into Baren's coat pocket.
"I'm off. Read it later."
"W-Wait! I can do it right...!"
"Have fun on your date. Bye!"
Ronan hurried away, leaving Baren to babble like he was drunk. It was probably for the best. The club activity plan outlining a raid on the dragon city to find Nebula Klazie was no burden for that pea-sized heart of his could handle.
The plan proceeded as scheduled. Ronan, Asel, and Schlieffen, having finished their preparations, gathered in the open space in front of the dorms three days later at dawn.
The campus, with the sun yet to rise, was shrouded in darkness. Adeshan, who had snuck out to see them off, asked worriedly,
"You're leaving right after coming from the north. Please be careful."
"No worries."
"What about Itargand?"
"He went south early to prepare the ship."
They had exchanged farewells yesterday too, but knowing the details of Ronan's plan left her too worried to sleep. Adeshan asked,
"You really don't need me to come along?"
"Focus on student council work. Dragons are immune to mental domination anyway."
"I know, but... I just have a bad feeling."
"We have to go now. It's really fine, so head back and get some more sleep."
Ronan lightly kissed Adeshan's cheek. Her stiffened face flushed red as an apple.
"Re-Really. People are watching...!"
"So what."
Ronan chuckled. It was a habit since they started dating, something he had done with Iril like a greeting since childhood. Asel clenched his fist, watching from behind.
"......Jealous."
"Disgusting."
Ptoo. Unable to stand it, Schlieffen spat. He never could have imagined suffering such humiliation from that thunderhead-like bastard. Lowering his gaze, he said sternly,
"You're in charge while I'm gone. Protect Lady Iril."
Flap! Citah spread her wings as if to say not to worry. The two, practically living at Iril's house, had grown quite close. Their shared extreme neat-freak tendencies and fondness for Iril had bonded them.
"Here."
Having finished rubbing it in, Ronan approached. In his hands was a thick stack of scrolls that looked expensive at a glance—teleportation scrolls to Tandrei Port. He had wanted to ask Kratir, but the principal was away on a trip somewhere.
To cross from the capital to the south required seven scrolls per person. An astronomical sum incomparable to renting ghost horses had been spent, but Ronan and Asel had the bills from the Grancia family. Ronan turned to Schlieffen with a somewhat apologetic tone.
"This might be a bit much. I know Grancia is filthy rich, but still."
"Doesn't matter. Saving time is what's important."
"Thanks. I heard last night—Sis was really worried about you."
"Lady Iril...?"
"Yeah. Told you to come back without a scratch."
Suddenly, Schlieffen turned his face away. The corner of his mouth sticking out twitched. Might've been a bad idea to tell him. Asel hung his head, gripped by betrayal and defeat.
"Uuu..."
"Right, Asel."
At that moment, Adeshan snapped her fingers as if remembering something. She approached Asel and held out a palm-sized wooden box.
To meet her eyes, he had to tilt his head back. Asel stammered,
"Wh-What is it?"
"Marya asked me to give you this last night. Almost forgot."
"F-For me?"
"Yeah. Just for you. Said to come back safe."
Asel opened the box with trembling hands. A dozen tiny glass vials were lined up inside. Realizing they were special miniature potions for mages, his eyes went wide.
"Th-This...!"
His face lit up bright. It was a gift separate from the potions prepared for the group. His rotten mood cleared completely. Ronan snickered and spoke.
"Then, time to really head out."
"Be safe."
Adeshan waved with a sweet smile. The three unfurled their scrolls simultaneously.
Whoom! Along with the mana waves, distorted space swallowed their forms. When Adeshan closed her eyes for a moment and opened them again, the three were gone without a trace.