Chapter 41
Chapter 41
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: Rodolan (3)
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Karaka grabbed Ronan's right arm. Before Ronan could say a word, he pressed the corpse of the Curse Eye into Ronan's hand.
The severed Curse Eye's pupil instantly turned blue. Ronan jerked his arm away at the unpleasant sensation of something being sucked out from inside his body.
"Damn it, what the hell are you doing?"
Thud! The Curse Eye's corpse bounced off and hit the floor. The blue that had overtaken the pupil spread further, eventually staining the sclera and the body as well.
"Orolok..."
Soon, the bubbling corpse began to melt like foam. Ronan wrinkled his nose.
"Ugh."
Before long, only a puddle of bright blue liquid remained where the corpse had been. Karaka, who had been alternating glances between Ronan and the liquid that used to be the Curse Eye, finally spoke.
"Lord Ronan."
"I told you I can't be bitten."
"That's not it. Are you alright? Do you feel any changes in your body?"
"Huh? Not really..."
His eyes itched a bit, but there was nothing unusual otherwise. Karaka tilted his head in disbelief.
"How in the world... have you managed to stay alive until now?"
"Pardon?"
His face, which had remained calm even when Eduon's head exploded, now twisted in bewilderment. After scanning Ronan up and down, he continued with an even more serious expression.
"Lord Ronan, you are under a curse right now. A very powerful one."
"What?"
Naviroje, who had been listening, furrowed her brow. Ronan pointed at himself with his index finger and let out a hollow laugh.
"A curse...? Me?"
"Yes. I don't know what kind it is, but it's so powerful that I wouldn't dare offer any advice on it. I've seen Curse Eyes lunge at people before, but I've never seen one melt away because it couldn't handle the curse."
The Curse Eye's meltdown due to curse overload. It was a rare phenomenon that could only be found in ancient scholarly tomes from centuries past.
Karaka said that even if he'd pressed a living Curse Eye against Ronan, the result would have been the same. Ronan pointed at the murky blue liquid.
"Damn it, so what happens to me now? Do I have to live every day in fear that I'll wake up one day turned into blue diarrhea like that?"
Karaka shook his head.
"Surely nothing like that will happen, but since I don't know the type of curse, it's hard to give a definitive answer. Have you ever felt any restrictions on specific actions or words in your life?"
"Restrictions?"
"Yes. Taboo-type curses are the most common. Like not being able to run, or touch iron... anything that others can do naturally, but you alone cannot..."
Ronan and Naviroje looked at each other almost simultaneously. They could tell without asking that they were thinking the same thing.
The mysterious phenomenon that had followed Ronan like a tag even after his regression. The mana incapacity state where he couldn't see, sense, or handle unrefined mana.
Reading Naviroje's gaze, Ronan shook his head.
"No. Nothing like that."
"Hmmm... Is that so? It's a miracle that nothing has happened to you all this time with such a powerful curse. I strongly recommend you consult a specialist."
Karaka went on to briefly explain the possible curses that might cling to Ronan. Shortened lifespan, incurable diseases that manifest later, bodies that explode under certain conditions, and so on. It wasn't a pleasant topic.
Karaka ended by once again urging him to see a specialist. He stroked the trembling ears of Syrilla and smiled.
"Anyway, it's fortunate we caught two of them. We can get the remaining story from Miss Syrilla here."
"Ah... aaaah... no... please..."
"Hehe, it'll take quite some time to extract the secrets without blowing her head up."
Syrilla already looked like her mind had collapsed. She wouldn't be free from Rodolan until all taboos were lifted and every secret spilled. Alive or dead, as Karaka said.
Of course, that was none of Ronan's concern.
"Well, take your time, just make sure you get solid information."
"Of course. But I do have one question."
Ronan was straightening his clothes at that moment. Suddenly, the smile vanished from Karaka's face. He slowly opened his mouth while staring into Ronan's eyes.
"What is Ahayute?"
"Pardon?"
"I overheard it when you spoke to Eduon. His head exploded just as he was about to answer. It seems like deep information about an organization called Nebula Klazie. I'm curious how you knew about it."
Ronan's words caught in his throat for a moment. The question was so abrupt it felt unintended.
"Ah... that?"
He couldn't reveal the truth yet. It was too outlandish even for a fairy tale.
In truth, I came from ten years in the future, and three bald giants with wings will tear the sky apart and descend. Ahayute is one of them. Wahaha. What a ridiculous name, right?
...How could he say something like that in his right mind? It wouldn't clear suspicions; it might land him next to Syrilla. Karaka raised an eyebrow as he waited for a reply.
"Lord Ronan?"
'I'm screwed.'
He needed some kind of countermeasure. Fragments of memory flashed through his mind as quickly as his swift sword. Finally deducing the best response, Ronan hung his head low.
"It was when I was five... nine years ago already."
"Hmm?"
A shadow of sorrow suddenly crossed Ronan's face. Karaka tilted his head. Naviroje's expression hardened at Ronan's next words.
"I lived in Naranda with my parents. Until the great fire."
Of course, it was a blatant lie. Ronan had never left Numberton at that age, nor did he even remember his parents' faces. After a pause, Ronan gave a sad smile.
"The fire that started in the west swept through the wheat fields on the southeast wind. My parents, for whom a handful of fields was their entire fortune, grabbed water-filled buckets and charged into the flames. And... they never came back."
After saying that much, Ronan gauged Karaka's reaction. The stoic face showed no change. Damn it, as expected of a Rodolan interrogator? Ronan continued in an even more subdued voice.
"I only stepped into the charred wheat fields after the fire died out. That's when I saw them first. People wearing the same robes as this elf Syrilla."
"Hoo..."
"I heard the name Ahayute there. I couldn't make out the rest of the conversation, but that strange word stuck clearly."
Karaka's stiffened face began to soften. The secret to convincing lies was mixing in enough truth.
Ronan considered his wanderer days visiting the Naranda region a stroke of luck. Even after all this time, the people there hadn't forgotten the arson by Nebula Klazie.
"...That's how I knew. It's an unforgettable memory."
Ronan's passionate tale wrapped up with just the right plausibility. Being an orphan was true anyway, so no risk of exposure. Karaka, deep in thought, nodded.
"I see... That explains your obsession. You suffered a tragedy because of those heinous criminals."
"Sorry for the late answer. It's not a good memory."
"I should be the one apologizing. Occupational habit—I ended up interrogating you without realizing."
Karaka's face softened again. Ronan finally let out a sigh of relief. Karaka noted the new information on a document from the side table.
"Well, has your curiosity been satisfied to some extent?"
"Yes."
Ronan nodded vigorously. Not all truths had surfaced, but learning that the "Descent of the Stars" meant the Descent Catastrophe, and that Nebula Klazie was behind it, was a remarkable achievement. Moreover, now that the Empire knew the cult's identity, a massive purge would begin soon.
'Need to catch more Nebula Klazie bastards and beat more info out of them.'
The best scenario was preventing the Descent altogether. He didn't know if it was possible, but smashing their bases or capturing members to throw into Rodolan would yield more information.
Business concluded there. Karaka escorted Ronan and Naviroje out of the fortress. As soon as they stepped outside, fierce sea winds poured over their faces.
"Take care both of you. As I said, the information from Rodolan will be compiled into documents and sent to the relevant parties soon."
"Thanks. I'll remember this."
"No trouble at all. It was an honor to meet the master of all things. Lord Ronan, please do seek out those skilled in curses."
"Got it. Thanks, Karaka."
With that farewell, Naviroje and Ronan left Rodolan. A rickety griffon carriage with awful ride comfort carried them back to the capital.
Even on the unobstructed sky route, it took considerable time to reach the capital. From the sky, Rodolan Fortress looked like a tiny reef.
The red sunset shattered over Ye myeong-hae's scales. Ronan, staring out the window, spoke up.
"Is my inability to handle mana because of the curse?"
"I think so."
"Hm. I don't remember doing anything to deserve such karma."
"......"
Naviroje swallowed what she was about to say. She'd recently heard that Cardan's hair from their spar might never grow back. Ronan rubbed his eyes and continued.
"Honestly, it's a bit scary. Did you see Karaka's face? Damn, he wouldn't have been that shocked even if I'd shat on the wall."
"No idea at all who it could be?"
"...No."
Ronan groaned. It must have happened before he was fourteen at latest, but even reviewing his past life, no one came to mind who would cast such a fearsome curse.
Watching the griffon's wingbeats, Ronan turned back to Naviroje.
"By the way, thanks for telling me."
"For what?"
"Not to let Karaka know I can't use mana."
"Not revealing weaknesses is basic for a warrior. But why the lie?"
"Lie? Ah, you noticed?"
Naviroje nodded. She was referring to the backstory Ronan had spun for Karaka. Her insight was chilling as always.
"How'd you know? I thought it was perfect."
"There are ways. It wasn't the work of someone who's lied once or twice. Fooling a Rodolan interrogator says it all."
"Hm. Just figured they wouldn't believe the truth. Should I tell you, Instructor?"
"No need. You have your reasons."
Naviroje turned to look out the window. The more she saw, the more she liked him, but one question reared its head.
'Why wasn't someone like this visible during the Descent?'
It was a thought she'd harbored steadily. In retrospect, few current greats had appeared during the Descent.
Neither Naviroje, Phileon's principal Krava Kratir, nor the current Sword Saint Zaifa had shown themselves. Back in her ignorant penal legion days, she hadn't noticed the oddity.
'What tricks did Nebula Klazie pull?'
Ten years was long enough for anything. Ronan irritably rubbed his eyes at the chain of doubts. Naviroje narrowed her brow watching him.
"Why do you keep rubbing your eyes?"
"Dunno. It's been itchy ever since it touched that tumor..."
"...Go check on the curse as soon as we get back. Phileon must have a specialist or two. I'll tell my assistant too."
"Yeah... thanks."
"Stop rubbing."
Ronan and Naviroje arrived at Phileon late at night. The next morning, as soon as dawn broke, Ronan headed to the First Arena where Naviroje's class was held. He spotted Adeshan diligently organizing weapons.
"Long time no see, Adeshan."
"Oh, you're early, Ronan. Give me a sec to finish up."
Adeshan waved hello. Beneath her hair tied back for work, her pale nape was exposed. Suddenly recalling their reunion day, Ronan spoke.
"How've things been?"
"Hm? How what?"
"That Cardan bastard bothering you?"
"Ah, Cardan's been skipping class for a while. The others who were watching finally started approaching one by one. Thanks."
"Good to hear."
Seeing her after so long, she still exuded that fresh, endearing aura that was hard to get used to. Ronan silently helped with her task.
"Ah, you really don't have to help...!"
"It's fine."
"Sorry. I heard it was urgent... something about a curse?"
"Yeah. More like realizing I was already under one."
"That's worrying... You sure it's okay for me to help? Just sit over there..."
"I've been fine for over ten years; helping with this won't kill me."
With both of them working, it finished quickly. Adeshan led Ronan to the area with Magic Department buildings.
"Where are we headed?"
"Mm... Pillar Park. We're meeting there. One of the Magic Department professors is an expert in curses, so I asked a junior to guide us."
Pillar Park was a park within the grounds lined with massive pillars. Ronan raised an eyebrow.
"Guide? For one professor?"
"Well, I don't know the Magic Department well... and she's supposed to be quite unique."
"Mages do have a lot of perverts. Damn, now I'm scared."
"Hehe, she's an amazing junior. She'll guide us well."
Adeshan nodded proudly, beaming. She clearly adored her junior. At Pillar Park, Adeshan looked around.
"Hm? We were supposed to meet here... Hasn't she come out yet?"
The quiet park had only Ronan and Adeshan. Then, the pillar right behind Adeshan shimmered like heat haze, and suddenly a girl popped out.
"Sister Adeshan!"
"Kyaa!"
The girl wore the Magic Department's black robe uniform. Her deep purple hair swayed like water. The girl who appeared from thin air hugged Adeshan from behind.
"...Hm?"
Ronan’s eyes widened at the familiar face. Adeshan gently stroked the girl's head with a soft smile.
"Eri, you scared me."
"Hehe, it's a new spell I learned. Pretty perfect, right?"
"Yes. Impressive, as expected of Eri."
The girl named Eri grinned brightly. Ronan, rubbing his eyes, looked at her again. The girl with cat-like upturned eyes was indeed who he remembered.
"Please guide us well today. I heard the situation is more serious than thought."
"If it's Sister Adeshan's request, I'll do anything. Now, follow me."
Eri finally turned to Ronan. And froze. Not ruling out twins, Ronan cautiously called her name.
"Erzsebet?"
"...Ah?"
Erzsebet's face flushed red. She hurriedly let go of Adeshan's arm, her mouth slowly opening.
"Lord... Ronan?"
Ronan remembered her. Top freshman in Magic Department. Erzsebet de Acalusia.
The lady of House Acalusia who urged treating the talentless as sheep and lionizing over them as lions.