Chapter 273
Chapter 273
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 273
Chapter Title: Plunder (2)
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"What the fuck is this?"
Ronan's eyes widened as if they were about to pop out. An unspeakable horror unfolded before him. The once spotless house had been turned into a chaotic mess, as if a typhoon had swept through.
Headless corpses were scattered throughout the rooms. They were all the guards dispatched by the emperor.
Bloodstains splattered haphazardly across the house were congealing stickily. The furniture that Iril and Schlieffen had carefully chosen one by one was hacked to pieces.
The most striking sight was the scars covering the floor, walls, and ceiling without sparing any spot. The rough yet sharp traces evoked the image of two massive beasts rampaging.
"This is... what the hell..."
His vision spun. His chest felt crushed by a boulder, making it hard to breathe. He clenched his fist hard enough to draw blood, wondering if it was a nightmare, but the scene before him remained unchanged.
As Ronan tried to regain his composure with a dry wash of his face, his gaze suddenly landed on one corner of the house. A familiar piece of torn fabric lay strewn about.
"No."
Ronan murmured without thinking. The pure white cloth was undoubtedly a fragment from the dress his sister loved to wear. He had bought it for her himself at a shop in the capital the day before she enrolled at Phileon.
"No. No."
Iril's beaming face, saying she'd wear it forever, flashed in his mind. Ronan's head went blank. Splash. The water shield flower slipped from his hand and fell into a puddle of blood.
"Sis!!"
Ronan shouted, gasping for breath as he rushed forward. In less than a minute, he had searched every room in the house. But even after checking the basement shelter, there was no sign of Iril.
"This...!"
Instead, he found something else. It was so faint that it took time to notice. Glimmering mana, the symbol of Nebula Klazie, was faintly smeared throughout the house.
The moment he saw the mana flickering like dust motes, something snapped in Ronan's mind. Rrrrr... Intense killing intent began to boil over his shoulders.
"Nebula... Klazie."
In his two lifetimes, he had never felt such overwhelming murderous rage. Ronan gripped his sword hilt. His sister had been taken by them, just as he suspected.
Was she kidnapped? He hated to imagine it, but had she already been killed? Rage rising from the swamp of despair clouded his thoughts.
He would sever every limb from the captives. Pluck out their eyeballs and nails to send to their families. One of them would surely spit out his sister's whereabouts.
If they wanted to see hell, he'd grant it. With that resolve, Ronan strode toward the front door. Something tugged at his clothes from behind.
"Ppe."
"...Sita."
Ronan stopped in his tracks. Sita had poked her head through the window and was biting his hem. Her large red eyes stared piercingly at him.
"Ppeeaah..."
Though words didn't work, Ronan knew what Sita meant. The companion he'd shared three years with was asking with her eyes what he needed to do now.
This damn bird.
Ronan twisted his lips. On second thought, Sita must be suffering just as much.
Since arriving at Phileon, Sita had spent even more time with Iril than he had. She had been showered with love, following Iril like a mother.
"Damn it..."
His nose stung. An unbearable shame suddenly washed over him. Even a speechless animal could restrain its emotions.
Ronan's blurred vision from rage cleared. He wiped away the tears he hadn't noticed and nodded.
"Yeah. You're right."
"Ppeaa!"
Sita smiled. Ronan admitted he'd been too agitated. He'd nearly botched things stupidly.
"...Stay calm."
Ronan took a deep breath. As Sita advised, it was too early for despair. Traces of a fight with Nebula Klazie remained, and aside from his sister vanishing, nothing was confirmed.
No body means she probably isn't dead. A hostage play?
He needed to piece together clues to find Iril's whereabouts. And the culprits if possible. As he closed his eyes and groaned, a certain tool flashed in his mind.
"Blood Compass."
Ronan murmured. A precious magic tool that points to the owner of blood on a needle. He had used it in the north chasing Barka Tergun.
If he used Adeshan's Blood Compass, he could track his sister. Assuming her blood was here and she was still alive.
With a plan set, no time for hesitation. Ronan first pulled out his communication magic tool. Shortly after infusing mana into the shell, Adeshan's voice came through.
"Ah, Ronan? What's up?"
"Adeshan. Sis is missing. Looks like Nebula Klazie kidnapped her."
"What?! S-suddenly that..."
"Sorry to bother you when you're busy, but send some support troops. And don't tell that bastard Schlieffen. He'd come running even mid-fight with a dragon."
Ronan ended the call. Sorry to Adeshan, but no time for details. He placed a hand on Sita's head.
"Sita. Do me a favor."
"Ppe?"
"Sort the blood of everyone here. Don't miss a single one."
Ronan pointed to the corpses strewn indoors. Sita nodded readily.
Shaaa... Her red eyes glowed brightly. Bloodstains scattered everywhere began rising into droplet forms. Ronan said in a worried tone.
"Good. Be careful not to mix them."
"Ppebat."
Sita snorted as if to say not to worry. Her red eyes flashed again. The tangled blood split into dozens of streams and separated.
"...You're good."
Ronan let out a small exclamation. He wondered when her skill had improved so much. At least dozens of people's worth, yet Sita separated them precisely. Soon, the stains vanished, and twenty-four spheres floated in the living room.
The blood spheres varied in size. Ronan took a deep breath and examined them one by one. He prayed for his sister's blood to be there. But not too much. About five minutes passed.
"Damn."
Ronan furrowed his brow. No sign of Iril's blood. If present, he'd sense the mana quality, but even after checking repeatedly, nothing. He asked Sita.
"...None, right?"
"Ppewoooong..."
Sita drooped her head and groaned. As her sister's attendant, she'd know. First plan failed. Muttering to himself, Ronan spat a curse.
"Fuck no. Still too early to give up."
"Ppeaaat!"
Sita flapped her wings in agreement. Pedestrians' screams mixed with the fierce wind, but no time to care. Ronan glared at the blood spheres again.
One of these is the intruder's blood.
After such a brutal fight, not bleeding would be weirder. The scars left after overwhelming the guards wouldn't remain otherwise. A few more minutes passed.
"Huh?"
Ronan raised an eyebrow. He missed a tiny sphere. At his glance, Sita raised it to eye level.
"This... definitely..."
Ronan instinctively knew it was the blood from the kitchen knife. The thumbnail-sized droplet glistened with a slightly different hue from the others.
Where have I seen this?
Ronan's eyes narrowed. Too excited earlier to notice, but it felt familiar. As he leaned in close.
"No way...!"
Goosebumps erupted across his body. A memory surfaced. The blood's quality matched one from the Savior's memories.
Not pure red, but faintly purple-tinged blood containing sparkling mana. Barely steadying his breath, Ronan spoke.
"Abel."
It was the blood of Abel, the cult leader he'd hunted so long. Ronan unconsciously touched his throat. Though in the mental world, the sensation of his sword slicing Abel's neck remained vivid.
This crazy bastard came himself? To kidnap Sis?
Now the sword marks covering the room felt familiar too. Each stroke reeked of malice—undoubtedly Abel's handiwork. A sudden question arose.
"Then who made those?"
Ronan's gaze focused on the sword marks that clashed with Abel's. Even by his standards, it was impressive swordsmanship.
Abel. Not as perfectly structured as the Savior's style. But erratic and sharp, no less than Abel's blade.
Sorry to the emperor, but no guard could wield such skill. A third party had intervened, giving him another headache. Who? How did they not bleed a drop against Abel?
"Ppeaaaah!"
"Huh?"
As Ronan pondered, Sita cried out, urging him to look. She stretched her neck toward Iril's open door.
"What's wrong? I already checked there."
"Ppehaak!"
Ronan shrugged. But Sita tugged his sleeve, insisting on Iril's room. Baffled, he went anyway.
"...Shit."
Entering, Ronan gritted his teeth. The tidy room smelled of Iril's hair. His nose stung again, but he shook off the grief. As he scanned the room.
"Hm?"
Something unnatural caught his eye. Bread crumbs only on the floor before the bed. Slick as if someone had lain there.
Maybe.
Hoping, Ronan pushed the bed. A small box appeared. Carved from stone, covered in unrecognizable script.
"This..."
The eerie aura didn't suit Iril at all. Click. Picking it up and applying pressure, it opened easily. His eyes widened at the contents.
"...Blood Compass?"
Inside lay a compass-like device for tracking blood. Far more refined than the one for Barka, but same principle.
But what truly shocked him wasn't the compass. The inner lid bore words in common tongue. Ronan read slowly.
[To my son. Celebrating Ronan's coming-of-age.]
-Cain.
A bit smudged, but clear. It felt like a hammer to the head. His father left this?
The red needle pointed north, toward the Ghost Sea. Coming-of-age. His sister's promise of a special gift. Puzzle pieces clicked in his mind.
As he turned to tell Sita. Boom! The front door nearly shattered as a man burst in. In dark blue uniform, his face pale as if about to faint. Meeting his eyes, Ronan spoke.
"You came. Schlieffen."