Chapter 274
Chapter 274
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 274
Chapter Title: Plunder (3)
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"You're here, Schlieffen."
Ronan said. He'd clearly told him not to come, but somehow he'd heard and shown up anyway. It wasn't all that surprising since he'd half-expected it. Schlieffen's face, as he scanned the room, hardened like stone.
"What the..."
The bloodstains were all gone, but it was still a gruesome sight. The headless corpses and the sword marks scattered everywhere made it hard to believe this was the same house where he'd spent time with Iril. Schlieffen's mouth slowly fell open.
"...Lady Iril."
Muttering to the empty air, he looked like a man who'd lost everything in the world. His reddened eyes stood out against his pale skin. The usual cool composure had long vanished.
"Ronan."
Schlieffen belatedly turned his head. Just as he staggered up to stand in front of Ronan—Bang! The door, which had closed from the rebound, flew open again, and Adeshan appeared.
"Sch-Schlieffen! Leaving the battlefield like that out of nowhere... Huh?!"
Her face froze as well. From the looks of it, the two had been in the same place during the communication.
Adeshan covered her mouth with her hand and turned to Ronan. A trembling voice leaked through her spread fingers.
"R-Ronan... This is..."
"Just as I said. Thanks for coming so quickly."
Ronan gave an awkward smile. Footsteps of several people could be heard outside the entrance. It seemed she'd brought the pursuit team at Ronan's request. Krava Kratir's voice was mixed in, so they'd probably used spatial magic.
A horrific silence descended. Adeshan silenced the murmuring pursuit team members via telepathy. Schlieffen was the first to speak.
"...Explain the situation."
"I get how you feel, but calm down, man. Your hair's standing on end."
Ronan twisted his lips. Schlieffen's breathing was ragged, making normal respiration difficult. A killing intent rivaling Zayfana or Orse's roiled above his shoulders. A slow but heavy wind swirled around him, forming a vortex.
'It's almost like back then.'
The wind seemed ready to turn into a storm and sweep away the entire capital at any moment. Adeshan's face went deathly pale.
In terms of sheer presence, it matched the Continent's Greatest Swordsman Schlieffen from his previous life. Was this what cold rage felt like? Ronan spoke again.
"You know it's not your fault."
Schlieffen ground his teeth at the words. Grind. The sound of them nearly breaking carried over. Soon, the killing intent softened, and the restless wind subsided.
It was still chilling, but Ronan knew this was Schlieffen's best effort. As someone properly trained from a good family, he handled his emotions better than Ronan did. Ronan said,
"There's no situation to explain. It's exactly as I said earlier. The only thing I didn't mention is that the one who took my sister is the leader of Nebula Klazie."
"The l-leader?!"
Adeshan's eyes widened in shock. Schlieffen's face stiffened again. He fidgeted with his lips like someone with anxiety and asked Ronan,
"...Is she alive?"
"Not certain. But she's probably still alive."
Ronan shared the information he'd gathered first. Hearing there were no traces of Iril's blood at the scene slightly eased their expressions.
Of course, that didn't guarantee her safety, so the urgency remained unchanged. After finishing his explanation, Ronan turned to Adeshan.
"By the way, do you have the blood compass now? The one we used to catch Varka in the north."
"Huh? Yeah, I have it... Why?"
"Hand it over. I need it."
Ronan held out his hand. His settled expression was more serious than usual. Adeshan rummaged through her bosom and quickly pulled out the blood compass, handing it to him.
"H-Here..."
"Thanks."
Ronan expressed his gratitude. After Varka's death, the blood compass, with its target gone, had just been spinning idly in place.
Click. He opened the lid and wiped away the lingering traces of Varka's blood. The needle stopped spinning.
Ronan then pressed the needle against the blood orb he'd formed from Abel's blood. Shoooo... The now-reddened needle moved, pointing west.
"This is...?"
"I coated it with the leader's blood. Luckily, he's still in range."
"What did you say?"
Adeshan's eyes grew even wider. The content was shocking compared to his dry tone. Who would've thought he'd prepared the leader's blood in advance? Ronan handed the blood compass back to Adeshan sternly.
"If we hurry, we might be able to pursue visually. With luck, we could find their main base. But no matter what, don't fight the leader head-on. He's on a different level from anyone we've faced."
Recalling past memories, Ronan twisted his lips. He remembered Abel single-handedly subduing Elisia and Alivrihe. The divine swordsmanship—wielding the stars' blessings like his own limbs and cleaving the high wind spirit Hairan in one stroke—was unforgettable.
Moreover, a thousand years had passed since then, so he was undoubtedly much stronger now. With accumulated knowledge, he was even trickier than a giant in some ways.
"Got it... But Ronan, you're not going?"
Adeshan suddenly sensed something off and asked. Ronan's tone sounded like a parent giving warnings to a child on their first errand. Ronan nodded.
"Yeah. I have a quick detour to make. It's essential for rescuing my sister. It shouldn't take long."
Ronan said. It was the most rational decision. If Abel had abducted Iril to keep with him, normal methods wouldn't work.
Times like this called for cool-headedness. As Cita had taught him, rushing would ruin everything.
Ronan reached into his pocket and fiddled with the other blood compass left by the Savior. Having organized his thoughts, he suddenly grabbed Schlieffen's shoulders.
"Schlieffen."
Schlieffen didn't reply. He merely shifted his gaze to meet Ronan's eyes. Ronan continued,
"You promised me before. That you'd protect my sister no matter what."
"...Yeah."
"That still holds. Even if you hate it, I'll make sure you do. So wait for me."
At those words, Schlieffen's brow furrowed. Something churned deep in his chest. Before he could speak, Ronan turned away and looked at Adeshan.
"Do your best. Remember what I said—no fighting the leader."
"O-Okay."
"Alright, I'm off."
Adeshan nodded. Ronan rummaged in his inner pocket and pulled out a small box. Opening it revealed a dozen tightly rolled scrolls.
Ronan took one out and unrolled it. The scroll Elisia had given him long ago could transport the user all the way to the Distant Sea of Ghosts.
Even reconsidering, this was better than rushing and messing up. Ronan filled a small vial with Abel's blood. He then climbed out the window onto Cita's back. Recalling the Savior's face, he muttered softly,
"He was bedridden so long, hope no mold grew in his brain."
"Prrrng."
Cita cried out in response. At the same time, Ronan unfurled the scroll.
The magic circle inscribed on the paper glowed, warping space. Fwaaah...! In the spot where the light appeared and vanished, neither Ronan nor Cita remained.
Nebula Klazie's main headquarters.
"It's dire. They've even taken Pelgrand."
"We're at our limit. Where on earth is the Leader..."
The conference room buzzed. The seven archbishops were engaged in heated debate over the cult's worsening defensive position. The empty seats of the other six felt especially poignant today.
"I really don't get it. I hate to say this, but has he truly abandoned the cult?"
"Mind your irreverence, Archbishop Anaquiel. You know he's not the type."
"I hope I'm just speaking out of turn. I thought for sure he'd show when Pantasion died..."
Anaquiel muttered. It had been a month since they'd last seen the Leader's face. It felt like endless nightmares every day.
At some point, the ignorant fools had learned to counter the stars' blessings. Those skilled in wielding divine power could gain the upper hand, but such experts were limited.
The alliance led by Navardoje and the Empire had quickly pushed the cult to the edge of a cliff. Consecutive defeats and members' deaths were wearing down even the overwhelmingly strong archbishops' spirits.
As they sighed deeply and prepared to resume the meeting—Bang! The conference room door suddenly opened, and a familiar man strode in.
"Good to see you all. I hope you've been well."
"L-Leader!"
The archbishops' eyes bulged. Bang! Archbishop Rtansie was the first to leap from his seat.
"We greet the Leader!"
The others followed. It had been far too long. Abel, returning after a month, had a human woman slung over his shoulder. He said casually,
"Sorry I haven't shown my face lately. I've been busy preparing."
"As long as you're back now, Leader. But that on your face... An injury?"
Rtansie, scrutinizing the Leader's face, widened his eyes. A diagonal slash mark marred his left cheek. Abel chuckled and shook his head.
"No big deal. Just the price of a lesson."
"A lesson?"
"Yeah. Even a beast's cub is still a beast, no matter how tame it seems. She's fierce."
Recalling the capital incident, Abel chuckled. The fight with Iril wielding a kitchen knife had ended in under a minute.
He'd taken no damage beyond the wound, but crucially, he'd sparred with her over a hundred times—and ended up injured. Abel asked,
"Where's Alivrihe? Still no word?"
"Y-Yes. Contact cut off from Adren... We fear he might have lost his life then."
"Unlikely... He's probably decided to betray the cult. Foolish old man."
Abel gave a wry smile. He'd anticipated it, but it was a bit regrettable now that it happened. Had his spirit not fully broken? Glancing at the archbishops, he tilted his head.
"Alicia's missing too. On a mission?"
"...Alicia died four days ago. With Kailasis. To a man named Ronan and Navardoje's kin."
She explained the tragedies at Pelgrand Mountains and Pansia Fortress. In Abel's absence, four archbishops had perished.
Hearing even Pantasion had fallen, Abel shrugged. That deer too? The Empire's Rising Star kid had some skill.
His hands itched, but that wasn't important now. Glancing at Iril, Abel clicked his tongue.
"Too bad. This is trouble. Alicia was the most delicate among the archbishops; I'd planned to entrust it to her..."
"Pardon? What do you mean..."
Rtansie tilted his head, unable to grasp the intent. Suddenly shifting his gaze to her, Abel sighed softly.
"No choice. Take care of her until preparations are done."
"Pardon?"
"Here. Be careful. Don't let her get hurt."
Instead of answering, Abel handed Iril over to her with delicate movements, like handling jewelry. The unconscious Iril breathed softly in sleep.
"This person is...?"
Rtansie's eyes widened at Iril. She was the most beautiful being he'd ever seen. Her white hair strikingly resembled the Leader's, whom he revered. Abel said,
"Take good care of her. She's the one who'll become our Saintess."