Chapter 39
Chapter 39
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 39
Chapter Title: Rodolan (1)
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Ronan succeeded in capturing Syrilla and Eduon alive. They were dragged away by the soldiers who had followed behind. The soldiers took basic precautions to ensure Syrilla wouldn't die during transport.
"The elf's bleeding badly. Bring potions and bandages."
Syrilla's left leg below the knee had been cleanly severed. Her bleeding only stopped after they poured potions over it.
"Wh-what the hell is this? Is the limb growing back?"
In contrast, no such measures were taken for Eduon. Sprout-like tentacles were wriggling and growing from where his limbs had been.
The soldiers carrying Eduon on a stretcher turned pale. Ronan snatched the torch from one of them.
"Let me have that."
"Ack!"
Sizzle! Ronan cauterized all four stumps with the torch. Kughhh... A moan filled with agony leaked from the unconscious Eduon's mouth. The writhing tentacles shriveled up, halting the regeneration.
It was a scene that killed any appetite. Ronan spat on the ground and muttered.
"Damn, is this some kind of magic too?"
"I wouldn't know. I'm no expert on that side of things."
"No matter how cool magic is, I don't wanna learn crap like this. So where are these bastards headed? There's something I gotta ask them no matter what."
"Hm. Since it's a crime against the Empire rather than an individual, they'll probably be shipped straight to Rodolan."
"Rodolan? That prison floating in the Dawn Sea?"
"Yes. The interrogators there will make them spill everything they know."
Ronan had heard of it before. Rodolan, the Fortress of Screams. A place where wails and tears never ceased, imprisoning and interrogating criminals who threatened the Empire.
The interrogators of Rodolan, who made sadism and persistence their core virtues, were said to extract confessions from suspects "by any means necessary."
"If you're really worried, I can arrange a separate meeting. Don't stress too much."
"Damn... You look kinda cool today, Instructor. For real."
You look kinda cool. Naviroje's eyes widened for a split second at the words. She snorted and pointed her chin at Ramancha.
"Hmph. Speaking of which, that's an unusual sword. Made by Master Doron?"
"Yeah. Pretty deadly, right?"
Naviroje affirmed it with silence. The aura emanating from the blade was no joke. If not for her dignity as an instructor, she might have wanted to borrow it and swing it around later.
"Anyway, good work, Ronan. I'll report what you and your friends accomplished to the principal as soon as we get back."
"I just did what I could."
"It happened in such a secretive spot, so no public commendation is possible, but there will surely be some separate recognition. As someone indebted to Gran Cappadocia, allow me to express my thanks."
Naviroje smiled brightly. Her curving eyes looked gentle. Come to think of it, this was the first time he'd seen her smile properly.
Maybe Adeshan was right—she really is a good person. Ronan thought as he cauterized Eduon's limbs once more with the torch. Sizzle!
Kheughhh...
Ronan headed to Gran Cappadocia with Naviroje. Rescue operations were in full swing at the ruined smithy. Phileon's faculty and imperial soldiers in light gear were busily moving people and supplies.
"You there! Clear the debris first. Be careful not to damage the intact equipment."
"Yes sir! Major Avar! Glad to see you like this!"
"It's been years since I left the service—what's with the 'Major'? Come on, just a bit more effort!"
Avar, the imperial swordsmanship instructor, was directing the soldiers. Dozens of animal-shaped spirits were hauling debris. An elf with piercings in his ears, presumed to be a spirit user, watched the scene with a long pipe clenched in his teeth.
"Wahahaha! Still can't pull your weight, little bro. What a sight after all this time."
Hunting instructor Gidokan was there too. He was laughing heartily while handing water to Didikan, who was leaning against a wall. It was striking to see the much larger Didikan acting so politely.
"Sorry about this, big bro."
"You should be! If I had my way, I'd teach you Gidokan-style self-defense right now... but I gotta head down below first. Might be people still trapped!"
"You're always full of energy, bro. Take care..."
Gidokan sniffed the air and dashed toward the mine. As Ronan had predicted, he was making a huge contribution to finding the injured.
Didikan, catching Ronan's eye, raised a hand in greeting.
"Oh, Ronan. Did you meet the cave giant king alright?"
"Something even bigger happened. Found a spot to rebuild Gran Cappadocia too."
"A spot...?"
Ronan grinned at Didikan's disheveled appearance. He still looked worn out, but most of the injuries on his body were gone.
Probably Sita healed him. Didikan thumbed toward a corner of the ruins.
"By the way, your friends are gathered over there. I owe you guys big time. Really grateful."
"Forget it, man—Doron saved you."
"It's not just about old man Doron. Lots injured, but almost no deaths."
Suddenly, Didikan's legs shook as he stood up. He bowed deeply at the waist to Ronan.
"You didn't just save Gran Cappadocia—you saved the future of metallurgy. Thank you. I won't forget."
It was quite the grandiose thanks. Ronan gave an awkward smile before heading to the spot Didikan mentioned.
It was where the injured who hadn't yet been moved to the surface were laid out. The wounded groaned atop long straw mats lined up in rows.
"Put it over there?"
"Y-yeah. Didn't expect such strength from a young lady..."
Soon, Marya came into view, carrying five supply crates at a time. Spotting Ronan, she called out happily.
"Ronan, you're alive!"
"Of course I'm alive—what, you think I died?"
Marya set down the crates. Arms wide, she hugged Ronan.
"Why are you hurt so bad?"
"Blocked a giant king's punch with my sword."
"Saying weird stuff again..."
"Mind letting go now, miss? I'm seriously gonna die."
Her ample chest was suffocating him. Marya flushed and pulled away hastily. Ronan patted her shoulder after looking around.
"Good work. You hauled a ton."
"Yeah. Everyone took it more seriously than I thought... and they were right. What exactly happened down there?"
"I'll explain properly when we get back. It's a long story."
"Ah, take care!"
Passing Marya, Ronan walked along the mats. Asel and Sita lay side by side in the best spot. Ronan crouched by their heads.
"Good work."
"Hah... huff... huh... Ronan?"
"Piyaaaa..."
Both looked utterly exhausted. They'd overexerted themselves on the rescue. Ronan scratched Sita's belly and continued.
"Your skills improved a lot, Asel. Basically a grand mage now."
"N-no... I didn't do anything..."
"Act proud at times like this, man. If not for you guys, those dwarves would've been buried without even needing graves."
"Th-that's..."
"I could do it thanks to you, Marya, and the rest. Thanks for sticking with me since Numbarton, Asel."
Ronan spoke plainly. Moisture welled in Asel's big eyes. Sita, rolling around with wings outstretched, let out a jealous cry.
"Pyaat!"
"You too, Sita."
He'd killed the giants and taken down the culprits, but a sword was just a sword. Without the help around him, it would've been impossible. Realizing anew the importance of talented people, Ronan smiled.
"Alright, I'll head out. Rest up."
"Wh-where to?"
"Got two bastards hanging to beat."
Ronan followed Naviroje and the escort soldiers back to the surface.
After about an hour climbing the winding paths, the open night sky unfolded before them. The wind sweeping his lungs was refreshingly different from the underground air.
"This place..."
A turquoise forest shimmered far below the sheer cliff. The familiar sight made Ronan's eyes widen. It was the Shemo Forest near the capital, where he'd stopped on the way to Penardo Spring.
"Right on time..."
The escort officer checked his pocket watch. Soon, something massive flew swiftly from the distant night sky. It was the transport vehicle from Rodolan, pulled by two griffons.
-Fweeeooo!
"No joke."
Ronan stuck out his tongue at the griffons. The Rodolan wardens were clad in pitch-black outfits with beak-shaped masks.
They fitted additional restraints on the crippled Syrilla and Eduon. Syrilla, regaining consciousness late, widened her eyes and yelled something.
"Wait... mmpf... mmph! Mmph!!"
Poke. One warden jabbed a syringe into her neck. As the green liquid flowed in, Syrilla's head drooped.
The handover finished in under five minutes. The silent wardens boarded the transport with the two. Ronan shook his head in dismay.
"Real quiet folks. Probably not welcome at parties."
"They know how to distinguish unnecessary actions."
The soldiers stepped back from the wind pressure as the griffons took off. Ronan relaxed only after the vehicle shrank to a dot and vanished.
Ronan returned to Gran Cappadocia to help. The rescue wrapped up around noon the next day.
"I'm back, Lucy..."
"Oh dear! What happened to you? What went down?"
"Lemme sleep first... yeah... help with my socks..."
Thud. Back at the dorm, Ronan collapsed face-first onto the bed. He slept sprawled out for a full day before shaking off the accumulated fatigue.
"...What the hell?"
Waking after two days, Ronan found Sita curled up by his bedside with a letter. Yawning widely, he broke the seal.
His eyes widened as he read it slowly.
"...Already?"
The letter from Rodolan notified him that the interrogation of the two was complete.
****
The waves crashed fiercely. Salt-laced sea wind tousled his hair. An elderly man waiting bowed deeply.
"You've had a long journey. I hope it wasn't too uncomfortable."
"It's fine."
"Not bad. Though my butt nearly split sideways."
Naviroje had kept her promise to arrange a meeting.
The afternoon he received the letter, Ronan and Naviroje rode a griffon-pulled vehicle to Rodolan. The ride was awful, but the stunning view of the Dawn Sea from above made it bearable.
"Glad to hear. Follow me, then."
The old man smiled softly and turned. A black-clad man had a beak mask hanging from his belt—different from the wardens' earlier.
Naviroje said,
"Not a warden—an interrogator. One of the particularly vicious nightmares Rodolan's prisoners dread most."
"Damn, that friendly-looking geezer?"
"You know not to judge by appearances. Still, I wonder if I'm doing the right thing."
"Why?"
"No matter how I think about it, this isn't a place to bring a student. If you hadn't caught them, I wouldn't have brought you here no matter what."
Naviroje frowned unpleasantly. Ronan looked up at the Fortress of Screams, Rodolan. The massive, jagged structure rising from the sea's midst looked like a reef that could wreck any ship.
As Rodolan's gates opened, an unexpectedly refined, clean space came into view. Ronan thought it seemed like a decent workplace. For the deaf only.
Ripping screams and sobs echoed from all directions.
"Kya aaaah! Stop, stop!!"
"Kill me, please just kill me..."
"Hee hee... hee hee hee..."
Ronan followed the man deep into the fortress. Thick iron doors lined both sides of the long corridor. Different screams leaked from behind each.
After about thirty minutes navigating the maze-like paths, the old man finally stopped.
"We're here."
Before them loomed a door far thicker and sturdier than any seen so far. Pulling out a long, intricate key, the old man turned to them.
"Official documents will follow later, but for now, I'll briefly share what we've learned here in Rodolan. Nebula Klazie. That's their organization's name."
"Nebula Klazie?"
Ronan tilted his head. He'd never heard the name in his previous life.
"Yes. They've been behind numerous unexplained major incidents across the continent over the past year. Confirmed cases include the great fire that swept the Naranda granary region and the explosion at the mage-tech lab Etemen."
The old man listed the crimes committed by Syrilla and Eduon—that is, Nebula Klazie. All were serious offenses with massive impact on specific fields. After hearing him out, Ronan raised a hand.
"Did they happen to mention what 'Starfall' is?"
"That's... a new one to me. Was there such a thing?"
"Really? Tough bastards. Guess I'll ask myself."
"Well, well. Thought they'd spilled everything, but they were holding out after all..."
A crack-like smile spread across the old man's face. Ronan nearly grabbed his sword hilt from the sudden chilling aura.
He donned the beak mask from his belt. It evoked a vulture pecking at corpses.
"Just to be sure. Naviroje aside, you're still a young student, Ronan. Worried it might shock your innocent heart. You sure you're okay?"
"I cut off those bastards' limbs."
"Heh heh heh... It'll be different from that."
The old man inserted the key without further questions. As dozens of locks clicked, the door opened. An inhuman, horrific groan leaked out lowly.
"Aaa... uu..."
"Grk! Grraaah..."
"Fuck."
Ronan narrowed his eyes at the sight of Eduon and Syrilla. It was gruesome enough to make ninety-nine out of a hundred vomit or faint—blind ones excluded.
A cheeky voice flowed from beneath the interrogator's beak mask.
"Sweet dreams?"