Chapter 47
Chapter 47
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 47
Chapter Title: Mountain Stronghold, Golden Field (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“Really? For real?!”
Allen jumped in surprise and asked again.
Iriel, standing beside him, glared just as fiercely without backing down.
“What about me? Don’t I get anything?”
Her eyes sparkled with such anticipation that beans might pour out of them any second.
I shot her a sidelong glance.
“Why should you?”
“Tell me too! Some technique or something!”
Her eyes burned with eagerness to learn. I doused that fire without mercy.
“I saw you shoot that bow. It wasn’t bad. Keep practicing archery.”
“What? Why just me? Come on, teach me something too.”
I shook my head and spoke.
“There’s nothing worth teaching you, so don’t get greedy. Just follow what the others do. If you want to get stronger, do as I said and practice your bow. It suits you better than the sword.”
“Then why teach only Allen?”
“Everyone has different aptitudes. What’s useless trivia to one can be a life-changing technique to another.”
“I don’t quite get it, but wouldn’t it help me to learn something like that too?”
She really doesn’t listen.
I grinned and flicked Iriel’s forehead as she fidgeted.
“Get lost while I’m asking nicely.”
She staggered back, clutching her forehead, and glared at me.
“Tch, you’re such a stingy jerk. Fine, I won’t learn it. I don’t want it anyway. Hmph!”
Iriel spun on her heel and stormed off.
Every step radiated dissatisfaction.
I can’t believe this.
As if I’d entrust a technique to her.
I shook my head at her tiny retreating back.
“What a temper. Tsk tsk.”
“Mr. Genes, so what am I going to learn from now on?”
I turned to see Allen bowing and scraping like a sycophant.
He was already buzzing with excitement.
I instantly read the ambition in his eyes.
“Don’t get your hopes up. Like I said, it’s just useless trivia that might help you a bit. I think you could put it to good use somehow.”
“Yes! I’m not expecting anything at all! Teach me whatever!”
Allen nodded vigorously in response.
He was clearly full of expectations.
He hadn’t heard a word I said. I gave up explaining and tossed him the answer he wanted.
“What you’ll learn is called the Bluff Divine Art.”
“……Bluff Divine Art? What’s that?”
He tilted his head with a blank look.
Since I named it in Central Plains terms, he couldn’t parse the exact meaning.
I deliberately hadn’t used the Valencia Continent’s language.
It sounded cooler that way.
“The name sounds pretty badass.”
As expected, Allen was extremely pleased.
When you’re learning something, a cool name motivates you, right?
I slowly began to explain.
“The Bluff Divine Art is a qi technique that artificially fabricates the natural aura that emerges at higher realms. It’s like how weaklings puff themselves up before a fight. The effect isn’t dramatic, but you seem gutsy, so pairing it with something like this situation could work well.”
The Bluff Divine Art alone can’t intimidate someone stronger.
But combined with his guts and actions, it could be useful in a pinch like this.
It was a martial art I’d received in place of gambling debts in the past. Hearing Allen’s story jogged my memory.
I didn’t remember the incantation perfectly, but perfecting a crude technique like this is child’s play for me. Once I grasp the principle, I can adapt it my way.
“Then I’ll demonstrate.”
I circulated my freely rearranged Bluff Divine Art, and the surrounding air sharpened all at once, exuding a ferocious energy wave.
It lacked outright killing intent but seemed even more effective at dominating the space.
As expected of the Bluff Divine Art—used right, it could make you look like you had something going on.
Once I’d gauged its strengths and weaknesses, Allen was pale-faced and had collapsed to the ground.
I scolded him.
“Tsk tsk. So fragile.”
“I-I really thought I was gonna die.”
After catching his breath, he looked up at me with flushed cheeks.
“So, does that mean I get to learn this technique now?”
“Yeah. It’ll take you ages to reach the level I showed, though. Wanna try?”
“Yes!”
Allen answered energetically.
“I’ll work hard!”
Having tasted the effect firsthand, his passion burned even hotter.
Grinning like that, he looked like a kid who’d gotten the toy he’d been craving.
Honestly, I hadn’t expected him to be this thrilled.
It kinda pissed me off, but a man’s word is his bond.
I don’t go back on what I say.
I’d promised to teach, so I would.
But I decided to train him harsher than planned.
* * *
Two days passed.
We were still holding the stronghold, and as expected, the imperial army hadn’t come. Thanks to that, Allen made some small progress.
He could only muster a puppy’s bark-level aura for now, but the basics were there. With repeated practice, he’d get there.
“No trouble yesterday either, huh?”
Iriel sauntered over and asked.
She’d been bringing us meals at every mealtime.
“Made a lot of progress?”
She asked Allen, who had dark circles under his eyes. I’d barely let him sleep these past two days while torment—no, teaching—him, leaving him a wreck.
“Of course.”
Allen nodded solemnly at her.
“Ooh, show me!”
Iriel clasped her hands with expectant eyes. Allen focused hard and stared at her. A faint breeze rippled between them.
“S-something happened…… maybe?”
The flustered Iriel scratched her cheek and continued.
“So, you can artificially generate an aura, right?”
“Exactly! How was it? Feel anything?”
“……Yeah, a little.”
Iriel’s expression was awkward.
She clearly couldn’t lie. Still, she looked relieved. Seeing Allen’s results must’ve shattered her illusions about techniques.
“Shall we go then?”
Iriel took the lead.
With the bandits’ traces erased, there was no need to guard this place anymore.
We followed her.
The new stronghold wasn’t far. We crossed two ridges and arrived.
“Similar to before.”
Allen looked around.
The terrain was alike. The stronghold was tucked deep between cliff crevices.
People were living in makeshift tents.
Building proper structures would take time, like before.
I said.
“Where’s Cracker?”
“Over there. And Barten woke up.”
Iriel pointed to a tent on the side. I nodded.
“I’ll go see Cracker.”
“There’s someone you need to meet after.”
Someone to meet?
I gave her a questioning look.
“Someone who wants to see you, Mr. Genes.”
“Who?”
“He was in the prison. He’s been insisting on seeing you. Talk to him first, then come out. I’ll wait up front.”
I nodded.
Whatever it was, I’d find out when I went.
I had a hunch anyway.
“You’re here!”
Entering the tent, Cracker shot up and greeted me. Barten, lying on the cot, forced himself to sit up.
He looked gaunt but much better. He bowed politely to me.
“I heard everything. Thank you so much.”
His pale face strained into a smile.
I didn’t care to receive thanks from a sick man and waved it off dismissively.
“Whatever. You look decent.”
“Right? Not bad? Time to start over. We’ve done it once, so it’ll be quick this time.”
Cracker boomed heartily.
His voice had brightened a lot in two days.
Not just him—everyone adapted fast.
Rising above pain in no time.
Losing a home wasn’t new to them, so they bounced back quick.
Living in a stronghold already meant they’d left their homeland behind.
Their twisted tales had driven them to this isolated spot.
Ironically, those past pains made them stand tall now.
Their resilience in pushing forward was admirable, yet bittersweet.
Getting used to misfortune.
That’s a shitty thing.
I said.
“Then we’re not needed anymore.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Soon. Gotta head out today.”
He jumped up and raised his voice.
“Soon? No way we’re letting you go like that! You have to stay for the feast tonight!”
A feast in this mess? What a fool.
My schedule just got extended. I’d have to pick up the pace.
I refused flatly.
“Nah, enjoy it yourselves.”
“We’ve got aged liquor way better than last time! I was saving it to crack open after assassinating Itzriel. Who else would I share it with but you?”
I stared down the guy tempting me with booze.
Is he messing with me?
He should’ve led with that.
“Fine, I’ll leave tomorrow.”
I nodded readily.
No strict deadline, and this much leeway was fine.
I could hustle more later.
We agreed to talk over drinks and left the tent. Iriel was sitting blankly in the yard.
Spotting me, she jumped up, dusted her butt, and approached.
“Done talking? That was quick.”
“Leaving tomorrow.”
“Oh, okay. This way then.”
Iriel led the way, chattering about the patient’s condition and surroundings. I half-listened as we walked. The tents for critical patients were separated like a ward.
Pushing aside the entrance flap, I saw a man lying on a cot.
Even clothed, his skeletal frame showed through—emaciated to the bone.
A quick glance revealed his body ravaged by brutal torture, like tattered rags.
Fingernails and toenails were gone, and exposed skin was covered in burns, tears, and cuts—no unmarred flesh in sight.
It was a miracle he was alive, but even that was at its limit.
His life was flickering out.
“You’re the one who wanted me.”
With Iriel’s help, he forced himself upright.
I waited silently. He coughed violently, as if hacking up his lungs, then spoke with effort.
“……It’s you. I’ve heard a lot.”
“Get to the point.”
Iriel shot me a glare at my curtness. But I had no intention of chatting with a dying man.
Letting him rest sooner was better for him.
“……Forgive my impudence, but I begged to see you because I have an earnest request.”
As expected.
I said nothing. I had no plans to grant any request, whatever it was.
Francia right now was a festering, rotting wound.
Individual grudges and tales crushed into the nation.
Grant one person’s plea, and it never ends.
I planned to slice out that burst abscess all at once by beheading Halent.
Helping Veron or Cracker was just coincidence on my path.
No time to waste on personal vendettas.
“Here’s what I wrote earlier.”
At his words, Iriel handed me the parchment on the table.
It was filled with strange, unreadable symbols. A code, probably.
“I’m with the Western Independence Army, the ‘Winding Strait’ branch.”
He continued his tale haltingly between coughs.
I listened for now.
He’d be gone soon anyway.
To at least send him off with peace of mind.
But his story started veering from my expectations.
“Itzriel thankfully didn’t know how vital my information was.”
He smiled like a victor.
This parchment’s cipher apparently held something crucial.
“Could you deliver this to our branch?”
“If it’s on the way.”
I nodded.
Simpler than thought. If he’d whined for revenge, no way. But delivering a letter? Easy.
I could send Allen and Iriel.
“Please, I beg you.”
“What’s it say?”
I asked, eyeing the parchment.
“……Sorry, it’s so confidential I can’t say details.”
If he won’t tell even the courier, it’s that important.
Info vital enough for the Independence Army had to tie closely to Francia.
I tossed the parchment back at him.
“If it’s that important, deliver it yourself.”
Iriel’s eyes widened at me. He looked shaken too, focus wavering.
I was curious about the info inside.
So I’d find out.
The more secretive, the more human curiosity stirs.
“If I offended you, my apologies. It’s so critical I didn’t consider your feelings. I’ll tell you everything I know.”
I nodded.
What info was worth hiding this much?
Curiosity piqued, but the moment he spoke, I lost all interest.
I already knew it all.
“Don’t be shocked……”
He opened his mouth with resolute eyes.
“The Crown Prince lives.”