Chapter 58
Chapter 58
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 58
Chapter Title: Winding Strait (3)
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Nederman stared blankly at Allen, who leaned in toward me and whispered quietly.
“Jenes, this feels like a trap.”
Iriel joined in, agreeing with him.
“That’s what I think too. The guy seemed way too lightweight for someone with the title of Dragon Hunter.”
“What, are you two doubting me now?”
Faced with their serious expressions, Nederman couldn’t hide his bewilderment.
“This is too much. How much time have we spent together? Have you sold off all those memories we built washing dishes and cooking like antiques? Damn it. I thought they were the kind I’d take to my grave.”
“No, it doesn’t make sense. The Winding Strait’s headquarters in Tainan?”
Iriel glanced around cautiously as she spoke softly. Allen shouted without making a sound.
“A traitor leading the independence army? Does that even make sense!”
“Hah.”
Letting out a short sigh, Nederman turned to me and continued.
“You don’t doubt me too, do you? Sure, I love jokes and spout nonsense like it’s breakfast, but I don’t lie.”
Allen and Iriel looked to me, demanding an answer.
I spoke up.
“He may be unreliable, but he is a Dragon Hunter. So his claim that this is their headquarters must be true.”
Unlike the two of them, I had overheard him talking with the steppe wolves. They called him a Dragon Hunter, so it checked out. It wasn’t the kind of situation where he’d fake it just to draw me in. Plus, his strength proved it clearly.
“Oh, really?”
At my words, Allen immediately dropped his guard. But Iriel still watched me with uneasy eyes.
“You’re sure about that?”
I nodded in response.
Only then did Iriel relax her stiff shoulders. Nederman clutched the back of his neck as he watched them.
“What? You won’t believe me but believe Jenes right away? Treating people like this! How am I supposed to live out the rest of my days with this injustice!”
“That’s why you act so goofy all the time.”
When Iriel said it casually, Nederman shot Allen a glare.
“I’ll let Iriel slide, but you too, Allen? I never thought you’d doubt me. Have you forgotten the bond we forged trash-talking that guy?”
It was obvious without thinking hard that “that guy” they trashed together was me.
“W-When did I ever!”
Allen paled, sweat pouring down as he glanced at me.
“I never trashed Jenes. Nederman did most of it, and I just went along with it.”
“Something to brag about.”
“Ah, no, that’s not what I...”
Ignoring Allen’s excuses, I turned to Nederman.
“Enough chit-chat. Lead the way.”
“Sigh, so hurtful. Guess I need to find new comrades who actually trust me.”
“Real men don’t sulk over stuff like that.”
As Nederman pouted and walked on, Iriel smacked his back. Allen stuck close, fawning over him.
“Come on, it was just a joke. I trusted you the whole time. Just checking, you know? Did I hurt your feelings?”
The two coaxed and soothed Nederman as they moved along.
It was definitely unexpected that the Teynan Marquis headed the Winding Strait.
Nederman must have anticipated this reaction, which was why he held off on mentioning it until now.
If he’d said it from the start, before we’d built any trust, we would’ve found it even more suspicious.
But I trusted him now.
Not in a personal, heartfelt way—at least, not as someone who lied.
I’d long since honed the eye to spot trustworthy people.
“Then exempt me from two dishwashings and two cooking shifts each.”
“Dishwashing once, cooking twice. That’s a fair price. I don’t do losing deals.”
Iriel shot down Nederman’s proposal sharply. Allen nodded from the side.
“Sounds right to me.”
“Fine, if that’s how it is. Then this magnanimous soul, vast as the sea, shall graciously accept. Ahem.”
Clearing his throat to put on airs, Nederman turned back to me and gave a thumbs-up.
He’d clearly planned for Allen and Iriel’s suspicion from the start.
Cunning bastard.
His street smarts were sharp, at least.
He just acted like a kid.
Thanks to him, we easily entered the inner castle and were shown to the annex where we’d be staying.
They’d prepared in advance thanks to prior contact.
“Unpack your things. I need to meet with Cardron first. He’s a prickly one—gotta report every little detail from our trip. Otherwise, he whines like a kid. Probably won’t get to greet you two until dinner.”
I nodded. He wanted to brief him on the overall situation before we met.
“But can’t you drop the suspicious stares now? Keep it up, and I’ll want an extra dishwashing voucher.”
“I wasn’t suspicious. I just looked because you said you were going separately.”
At Iriel’s words, Nederman flinched and covered his mouth.
“Gasp. Does parting from me make you sad? Oh dear. My charming wit has swayed another young heart. Sorry, but this freedom-loving man can’t accept your feelings yet—”
“What are you babbling about? Shut up and go!”
Iriel glared as she snapped, and Nederman chuckled, waving as he went.
“Such a feisty girl. See you later.”
* * *
Nederman opened the door to the reception room and raised a hand to the one waiting.
“Hey, friend. Long time no see.”
He sauntered in leisurely.
Seeing him, Cardron’s temples throbbed for no reason.
“Long time my ass. You give me a headache. What happened?”
“No rush. Is this how you greet an old pal? I barely survived this time.”
“That’s what you always say.”
“This time it’s true.”
Nederman plopped down across from him and sipped the tea on the table. Cardron snorted at the sight.
“Cut the crap and spill what happened. The guy with you—is he that famous White Lion from the north?”
“Yeah.”
“Then tell me about him.”
Urged by Cardron, Nederman recounted everything from start to finish. Cardron’s face hardened seriously as he listened.
“...You really almost died this time. I told you not to meddle.”
“Easy for you to say. You know my mouth runs loose, but my heart’s pure. I can’t pull batshit like you.”
“You forgetting it’s because of me we’re even talking here?”
“I think about it now and then. Not moral, but damn pragmatic.”
Nederman flashed a thumbs-up.
“So how old is the White Lion exactly?”
“Dunno. Mid-to-late twenties, looks like.”
“And he’s a Sword Master?”
“That’s what he says.”
“That make any sense?”
It didn’t.
The youngest Sword Master in Valencia Continent history was Baran Alsendore, hailed as the strongest knight ever, the “Infinite Swift Sword.”
Even he’d reached it at 48...
Half that age as a Sword Master?
Nederman readily admitted it was unbelievable.
“Yeah, it doesn’t add up. But then, does me doing dishes?”
Cardron chuckled.
“That’s unbelievable too, but compare apples to apples. Still, must eat at you not seeing it yourself.”
The smooth-talking Nederman forced to wash dishes by a twenty-something? What a satisfying show.
Nederman pursed his lips and asked.
“Anyway, what about Lordr Heiser?”
“What can we do? No options.”
Cardron’s expression darkened as he continued.
“That’s got all of Francia in an uproar.”
Right now, Lordr Heiser was Francia’s last remaining leaf.
Everyone else who evoked past glories was dead.
So his death felt like proclaiming Francia’s total fall.
An old fallen nation, but now truly sinking into history’s depths.
Time had diluted its real influence, but the independence army—and the people—took his death heavily.
“Still, we can’t stop it.”
Cardron nodded at Nederman’s words.
The situation now was worlds apart from ten years ago, when they’d delayed his execution. In current Francia, Halent wielded more power than the king—absolute and unchecked.
Defying him was impossible.
Even if small riots broke out everywhere, they’d be crushed without mercy.
“What’s the White Lion say?”
It was easy to see from the circumstances that Lordr’s execution was retaliation against the White Lion.
He’d know that too.
Cardron already viewed the situation pessimistically. Without preparing for all-out war, rescuing Lordr was impossible.
But Nederman’s answer was unexpected.
“He’s going.”
“Even knowing the situation? He’s no fool who doesn’t see it’s suicide. Youthful bravado?”
“More like confidence.”
Cardron shook his head at Nederman’s words.
Halent was no pushover.
Just keeping Lordr alive this long showed his cunning.
Drawing the blade only now, after ten years, meant executing him at the perfect moment.
He’d saved it as a card to crush rising independence fervor easily.
Such a meticulously planned trap would be an inescapable quagmire.
Even if the White Lion was a Sword Master, no way out.
“Did you try talking him out of it?”
“Talk that guy down? Nobody can. Arrogant prick who eats manners for breakfast.”
“Compared to you?”
“Come on. Compare like to like.”
Yeah, at least not as bad as you.
“At least ten times worse. He’d probably talk down to you too, so brace yourself.”
“That pup daring to this body?”
Cardron scowled, displeased.
“‘This body’? Unless you plan to spar a Sword Master in your living room, better stay meek.”
“...”
“That guy’s not entry-level Sword Master. He’s at mastery peak.”
“...Insane.”
Cardron, speechless for a moment, let out a hollow laugh. Not fresh entry, but peak mastery.
A mid-twenties guy standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the continent’s top powerhouses.
The White Lion’s potential far exceeded his imagination.
“We need to pull him to our side, whatever it takes.”
Cardron was certain. With the White Lion, his goal was no longer a dream.
Reading his mind, Nederman smirked.
“Don’t bother. From what he says, he’s tight with the Northern White Lion’s leader. Don’t poke the bear—he’s got a temper.”
It could spark infighting among independence factions if mishandled.
Perfect for mutual ruin.
Halent alone would cheer it on.
“Raised by the Northern White Lion?”
“Dunno details. Anyway, he sounds loyal—give up. Try any tricks, and it’s your head.”
Nederman’s face was dead serious. No joke. When this clown got serious, he was dead certain.
Cardron grinned at him.
“You still don’t get me? Do I seem sloppy? Strong bonds don’t mean no options.”
“What scheme now?”
“Whether it’s thick friendship or unbreakable loyalty, there’s one bond that trumps it all instantly. You know it too.”
“...You don’t mean?”
Nederman’s pupils shook.
Cardron curled his lips, playing his ace.
“That’s right. A political marriage.”