Chapter 339
Chapter 339
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Side Story 23. Blue Spring to You (5)
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"B-Bomb?"
"Shh. Keep your voice down."
Naviroje cautioned her.
Lanse hurriedly clamped his mouth shut.
Fortunately, it seemed they hadn't been caught.
The presence was still lingering around the corner ahead.
"Hah... Sorry. It was just so sudden."
"Looks like we've gotten tangled up in something troublesome."
Naviroje clicked her tongue.
Her animal-like hearing perfectly separated the sound of water from the thugs' conversation.
Estimated number: five.
Their goal was to disguise themselves as imperial envoys and plant a bomb in the Flame Palace.
'No wonder it felt off. So she was molting.'
She now understood why Navardoje had abruptly canceled the audience.
Dragons, like reptiles, molted periodically, and it happened to be that time.
It was an opportunity the thugs couldn't pass up.
During the molting process, which lasted anywhere from a day to half a month, the dragon was essentially defenseless, akin to deep sleep.
Even accounting for that, it was a reckless plan.
Dragons weren't idiots; they had contingencies for molting, and this was Adren, the dragons' stronghold.
Moreover, their target was Navardoje, the Mother of Flames.
So why attempt something so obviously doomed to fail?
Lanse ground his teeth.
"...Those bastards. How dare they, when the dragon race has opened their hearts to us."
"Oh ho. You've figured it out?"
Naviroje smiled faintly.
It seemed her sharp disciple had caught on to the thugs' intentions.
"The bomb's power doesn't matter. What's key is that an imperial— no, a human— commits terrorism at the Flame Palace. Even without casualties, it'll spark a massive diplomatic incident."
"Exactly."
Naviroje nodded emphatically.
It was impressive insight for his age.
In that way, he definitely took after his mother, Adeshan.
"I learned it in history class. The Flame Palace where Lady Navardoje resides was built on the site where the Sky Tower fell. It's one of the symbols of peace, proclaiming overcoming the damages from the war with Nebula Klazie. If a bomb goes off there..."
"Right. It won't lead to outright hostility with the dragons right away, but relations will definitely cool."
"I absolutely... won't forgive them."
Lanse was genuinely furious.
Born after the war ended, he knew full well the trials that led to this peace.
He'd grown up listening to Ronan and Adeshan's tales instead of fairy tales, even as a toddling child.
Lanse pulled out a perception interference scroll and continued.
"Naro. Use this and head back the way we came."
"Huh?"
"We're already invisible, so no one will spot you. Hurry back and alert everyone. I'll hold these guys off somehow."
His voice was resolute.
Though unseen, his expression probably matched.
Did this kid just tell me what to do?
Go back the way we came?
Stunned for a moment, Naviroje let out a hollow laugh.
"Unbelievable. I appreciate the sentiment."
"What?"
The instant Lanse turned his head.
Kwachik!!
An invisible fist slammed deep into his gut.
The impact felt like his organs had been smashed onto the floor; Lanse's body crumpled forward.
"Keurk!"
"Not knocked out? Impressive indeed."
Naviroje admired.
As expected of the Martial Arts Department's top student— his durability was exceptional.
Lanse, silently vomiting bile, rasped in a trembling voice.
"N-Naro... why..."
"Returning your words exactly. Go back the way we came and report this incident."
The perception interference scroll lay rolling before Lanse's eyes.
He heard Naviroje's footsteps as she strode past him.
He wanted to rise and stop her, but his body wouldn't move.
"Na... ro...!"
"Don't worry. What you think will happen won't. And..."
His kind heart was admirable, but premature.
Children had their roles, adults theirs.
She was glad to be young again.
Had she been an adult, she wouldn't have followed Lanse or stumbled into this plot.
The thugs were still in place, perhaps planning their next move.
"Taking the weight is an adult's privilege."
With those words, Naviroje's figure shot forward.
****
"Hm?"
"What is it?"
"No... I thought I heard something just now. Maybe I imagined it?"
The bearded man tilted his head.
He'd faintly caught footsteps, but nothing was there when he looked.
The woman in imperial envoy attire shrugged.
"Probably just a rat scurrying by. Who'd be wandering around here outside cleaning time?"
"True. Guess I'm just too on edge."
"Why so jumpy? If you're tense, think back to all the effort we put in for today. Just like practice. Exactly like practice."
The woman giggled.
Her confidence was eerily absolute, but none of her comrades, including the man, objected.
She was a top-tier adventurer who'd devoted a decade to this day's deed.
Her like-minded comrades were top-tier adventurers too.
"Yeah, you're right. How the hell did you even find this path anyway?"
"Effort and luck combined. I only discovered it after falling into the lake surrounding the Flame Palace, you know? Who'd guess a direct line to the palace's first floor was hidden here."
"Brilliant. Perfect spot to kick their asses and bolt."
"Exactly. And we've already come this far— half the battle's won. When Navardoje molts, all the palace guards are deployed outside."
As she said, the Flame Palace was currently deserted.
She didn't know the exact reason, but not only the guards— even key figures like Naransoniya— had moved outside.
"Plus, we've got our trump card. You did prepare it properly, right?"
"Of course. Damn, thinking about the money we spent on this..."
The bearded man nodded, patting his inner pocket where the item was stashed, grumbling.
It cost enough for a mansion, but no choice.
No substitutes, and it was essential.
The woman checked her watch and spoke gravely.
"That said, no slacking. Let's approach this with an adventurer's sense of duty. Even if we die, succeeding means our era returns."
"The age of heroes and adventure."
"Yes. Peace just makes the world boring. Shattering human-dragon relations will be the opening shot to break the stagnation. People will turn to us again."
"Heh... sounds good."
"Though I'm more excited for the client's reward."
The one-eyed old man chuckled.
All agreed.
The client promising this job offered rewards beyond imagination.
And the client could actually pay.
The adventurers exchanged glances and smirked.
As the envoy-clad woman extended her hand.
"Alright, let's do a team chant and— ...Gurk."
"Huh?"
Her dilated pupils bulged wide.
A razor-sharp blade had torn through her chest.
Dark red blood dripped from the sword piercing her heart precisely.
"Wh-what...?"
Her body rapidly cooled.
Gazing down, a greenish glow swirled around the blade.
Before she could spit the blood rising in her throat.
Chwaak!
The blade slashed diagonally through her torso, severing the old man's neck beside her.
"Huuuuk!"
"Fuck! What the hell...!"
The thugs cried out in shock.
The sword floated midair, ownerless.
The old man's head plummeted into the drain.
The unmanned blade flew again, biting into another thug's nape.
"......!"
No scream this time either.
Another head vanished into the sewage.
The headless body slowly collapsed.
Only then did they see the sword's wielder.
"Y-you...?!"
"Ah. Busted."
Naviroje shrugged.
The splattered blood had revealed her form.
Not that it mattered.
She regripped her sword, crouched, and charged.
"Where'd this brat come from?!"
Two remained.
Realizing the killer was a girl not yet of age, they roared bravely and rushed her.
"Die!!"
The bald one with daggers in both hands swung at Naviroje's back.
She, in iaido stance, casually twisted her shoulder to evade and swung.
Seogeok!
A green semicircle arced through the air, bisecting the bald man.
His bloodshot eyes rolled back white.
Blood and guts exploded like fireworks.
"Hiiik...!"
Less than a minute had passed.
The lone bearded man gasped.
He tried to act, but it was too late.
Naviroje burst from the guts and swung again; green lines traced over his limbs.
"Ah."
Sensation vanished from his limbs.
The four lines split, revealing clean cuts.
Arms, legs gone— just torso left, he spilled onto the floor with a grotesque sound.
Belated agony overwhelmed him.
"Kuh, kuaaaaaagh!!!"
A bone-chilling scream echoed.
Like a grub larva, he writhed, flailing where limbs once were.
Not a voice worth heeding.
Naviroje shook blood from her blade and crushed his throat.
"Shut up."
"Kuaaaaa!! Ku... gurk!"
His thrashing stopped.
Extreme terror eclipsed even the pain of lost limbs.
Naviroje's gaze upon him was like meat on a slab.
"M-monster..."
"Who are you? Who ordered this?"
Naviroje aimed her sword at his right eye, asking calmly— chillingly so.
The man, barely catching his breath, stammered.
"Th-that's... it..."
"Still not fully with it, huh."
"Kuhahahk!"
Naviroje tolerated no hesitation.
The tip plunged into his eye.
A scream like shredded vocal cords erupted.
"Huwk, huwaaaagh!! My eye, my eeeeye...!"
"You have three seconds. Name your mastermind."
She withdrew from the socket, viscous fluid trailing.
Aimed at the other eye.
The bearded man, at his limit, whimpered.
"Uuugh, I'll talk... I'll fucking talk! We took a commission from the Red Death."
"Red Death?"
Naviroje tilted her head.
A title she'd heard before.
From Ronan's mouth, maybe? Details fuzzy.
Not a human moniker, she thought.
As she pressed further.
"......Suh...hae."
"Hm?"
A familiar voice from behind.
Turning, Naviroje's brow furrowed.
The first woman, torso slashed, mumbled incoherently.
Some death-delaying potion, perhaps.
A pale, bloodless hand clutched a scroll.
"Mission... complete..."
Naviroje swung instantly.
Five sword-auras shot along the floor, slicing the body in multiple directions.
Kwaaaang!
They exploded on impact, shredding the corpses.
Turning back, Naviroje clicked her tongue.
"Tch."
The bearded man was gone.
Only spatial magic residue shimmered like heat haze.
His presence faintly emanated from far above— the ceiling.
Toward the Flame Palace.
"Why make things so annoying."
A spatial scroll had teleported him away.
Too much loyalty for trash.
Should've killed them all.
Sparing one for testimony backfired. Naviroje sighed.
'What can a limbless worm do anyway.'
She bolted toward the Flame Palace.
Taking the burden was privilege; bearing responsibility, duty.
'Red Death... who was that again? Can't recall at all.'