Chapter 403
Chapter 403
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 403
Chapter Title: Chapter. 18. World 4 (7)
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My dearest Dana. And my beloved idiots.
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“Young master, your mother isn’t around.”
“I get it already—”
“It’s not just about knowing! You have to etch it deep into your heart! No escaping reality, no letting it slide! Mom’s gone! When you’re sad and hurting, others can cry ‘Mommy!’ but you’re stuck with just ‘Mmm, waaah!’ Follow me! Mom’s gone! I have no mom!”
“Fuck—”
“That’s it! That’s how you start accepting it!”
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Is the wasteland outside still peaceful? Is the sandstorm as biting as ever today?
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“You can’t turn away from it! If you brush past this massive pain, it’ll grab you by the ankle in the near future! Pain is like breaking out of the egg and taking that first step into the world!! It’s about squeezing every drop out of life’s poison called sorrow!”
“Swearing’s a great sign! Strong words have the thrust to pierce through pain and push forward! If I, Catreia, may humbly teach you a bit, in those situations, don’t mumble—claim the aggressive high ground with shit like ‘I’ll [*&^^#@] this [#*(@#&$) and yank out *#*&^@&^#!’—”
“Uwaaaah—”
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I’m tasting the spicy side of this new world.
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Sniff!
The sight of sweet, gentle Catreia spewing profanities from her maid’s mouth was enough to bring tears to an adult’s eyes.
Free Trade Union. Coming from this union state east of the old Lordric Kingdom, they’d been famous for their straightforward, unfiltered ways even 200 years ago. In a nation where merchants call the shots, they shunned the shady types and welcomed the honest ones, fostering that culture.
And that culture, surviving 200 years of war, hardship, and countless deaths—
“Young master has no mom! You’re the family’s shame! Everyone in the world just wants to use you!”
...had evolved into the terrifying Tarigden Archipelago custom of “facing pain head-on.” Instead of comfort, they hurl mockery and insults at those who’ve suffered great tragedy, forcing them to confront the pains ahead. A unique island tradition.
Thanks to that, after asking Catreia, “Where are Mom and Dad, what’re they up to?” I was now facing a tearful maid unleashing a torrent of abuse. Not because Catreia’s some fake-nice sadistic maid, but purely to compress and cram all the young master’s long-bottled grief—so he doesn’t wallow in it forever after losing his memories.
Have I ever seen crazier people?
“Young master! Remember this. Our Brasol family wields great power managing Pardau Fortress here, but you’re the family shame everyone hates except me, Catreia—the bastard son! Your room’s a remodeled rundown shed in this grand building, your father sees you as a thorn in his side, and your siblings treat you like a legacy-munching worm!”
“Uh...”
“Worm at home? Moneybag outside! Third son of the Brasol family, even if it’s just in name! Merchants jack up prices three times when they see you, those fake-friendly types pick your pockets, and some even plan to kidnap you whole!”
“Uh-uh...”
“And still, you must fulfill your noble duties as a proud Brasol! Nobles bear the noble obligation to protect the city, trains, and tracks! To survive when the whole world hates you, you’ve got no choice but to prove your worth! Got it?”
“Catreia... Do you hate me?”
“No! You’re the most precious in the world!”
A teary-eyed nineteen-year-old maid shouting “You’re the world’s most precious worthless worm without a mom!”
And not in my dingy room, but strolling the street’s middle, hurling “You’re trash! Moneybag! Bastard!” at a nine-year-old—while passersby watch with fond smiles!
‘These fuckers aiming for infant suicide rates topping mortality...?’
At this point, even the wasteland squeezing oil from people looked decent.
“To repeat, your position in the family is rock bottom. You’re Brasol blood, sure, but commit a faux pas with the knights, engineers, or especially the ‘engineers’ you’ll meet? Big trouble!”
“Got it. I’ve heard it till my ears bleed, so let’s stop, yeah?”
“...No way you’ve internalized it that much. No tears, no anger... Hmm...”
The goal of this outing—which turned that pure nineteen-year-old maid into a cursing bot—was to see and judge this era’s stars with my own eyes.
‘Professor Brasol of the Brasol House. Third of three sons and a daughter. First impressions aside, Brasol’s a renowned house even in the Tarigden Archipelago.’
‘Bastard with zero standing? Sure, but that Brasol name carries real value.’
‘Among those off the train. Definitely some Aura Knights.’
Pure talent for now, no aura or mana strands yet—but experience soaring as the continent’s strongest doesn’t vanish.
Five armored men caught my eye in passing. Their gait, arm swings, gazes—all stood out.
‘At least two of the five are Aura Knights.’
Catreia said our Brasol family manages Pardau Fortress here.
So, visitors from other cities stay where we provide, right?
The estate’s quiet, so they’ve rented a decent inn in the city under the family name.
Heavenly fool at home? Down there, I’d get “employer’s son” treatment. Perfect to check the train arrivals’ faces.
Perfect timing, too—stuck choosing which overflowing talent to pick.
Knight or mage?
Aura or mana?
Born with both aptitudes, but without past regen buffers, chasing both could make me explode. Gotta choose carefully.
That’s why I came down to this strange, dangerous city myself.
“Here we are.”
“This the inn?”
“Inn? Not sure what that is, but this is the Brasol family-managed ‘Pardau Fortress Station.’”
“Station... Ah, no need for inns anymore, huh.”
Only rare magic trains link cities, so outsiders just need spots for train disembarkees.
Useless inns vanish. The word “inn” fades.
The ‘station’ for fortress guests is key infrastructure, managed by the ruling house per fortress. Noble duty protecting tracks and trains.
Sturdy over flashy, the station was ringed by threatening fences—with a mob clinging to the gate, howling.
“Daily Knight reporter Marseck here! Is it true Knight Bolteus rode this train? Is the Polgrad Central Expedition rumor real?!”
“From Pardau Metro! Heard the great master ‘Pattuan Gridge Hand’ sold his seventh work to Strauge for a fortune—is the new Strauge train’s engine upgraded?!”
“E-engineer hopeful! Just once! Let me meet real engineers!”
“What do you think of the vanished Knightly Orders?!!!”
Waaah!
Clang clang!
People dangling from the iron gate, yelling. Flushed youths boosting each other to peer over, reporters biting pens and paper as they hung.
“Stop! Can’t disturb those who crossed harsh softlands!”
“Back off! No visits except scheduled reporters! You! Climb higher, I’ll spear you!”
Station staff blocking them turned it into pure chaos.
“Catreia. What’s all that?”
“What else? In fortress life with zero fun, the only thrill’s stuff from other cities via train. Foods we don’t have, new teas, majestic magic trains, engineers shuttling cities, knights guarding trains and fortresses—maybe tackling Lord’s Dungeon! Stuck inside like us, we can’t help envying their freedom.”
So, those clinging despite beatings from staff poles? Diehard knight and engineer fans.
The reporters? Fortress folk thirst for train news, so they hang to scoop it faster.
“They can do that?”
“Of course not? Under strict Brasol management, station’s only for family-approved personnel—”
“So those folks get executed?”
“Young master! Such gruesome words!”
Catreia, who’d been chanting “bastard! trash! moneybag!” minutes ago, recoiled in horror, shaking her head.
“No way they execute over this racket! Precious manpower!”
“Oh ho.”
Population drop boosting human rights.
Try “Lemme see the noble lady’s face!” on a fence in World 3. Hundred or thousand? They’d lop heads till executioners dislocated shoulders.
Even accounting for loose castes in Free Trade roots, the class gap’s shrunk plenty.
Come to think: Catreia kept saying “Brasol family this~ Brasol that~” but never specified count, marquis, or baron.
‘House-centered nobility. Noble duty: guard cities, trains, maintain tracks. Practical, no pomp...’
Leyline blasts nuked kingdom nobility too.
Nobles have clout, but less blood, more force and upkeep.
Some jobs’ prestige even tops bloodlines. Fascinating societal shift.
“Young master lost his memories so you don’t know, but train folk—even nobles can’t mess with them lightly. One slip there? Real disaster! Got it?”
“Yeah, got it.”
Click. Click, clank.
“Won’t push through that crowd anyway.”
“Uh, yeah. Let’s see... This the chamber, push the striker?”
Clunk, ratchet!
Catreia smiled at her cute young master, head drooped in disappointment.
Custom: after “facing wounds,” throw a feast to cheer up.
She indulged him, but his skills meant distant station views max.
‘Poor young master.’
Catreia thought she’d read him saint tales back home, gazing at the boy she’d tended near a decade.
Click.
Unlike her expectation, he grinned fangs bared.
“Uh... Huh?”
In his hand, a long object shimmered blue.
『Paaang—!』
.
.
.
.
.
.
Between breakfast and lunch, a drowsy city stirred by compressed mana blast.
“Wh-what?!”
“Arcane shooter! Someone shot!”
“Kyaaaah!”
“Scoop!!”
People fled the epicenter like receding tide,
“Whoa! This thing’s got kick! Catreia! Wanna try? Feels different from what I knew, but that’s its own thrill—”
“Y-young master...? Where’d you get such a dangerous—”
“Oh, this? Borrowed from that yelling guy up front. Figured it’d clear the path!”
“No...”
Eyes sparkling at the blue-smoke arcane shooter.
“Third son of Brasol, Professor Brasol here! Here to see the folks inside!”
In a blink, he strode to the now-empty station fence, thumping the bars with his arm-thick arcane shooter.
Or tried to.
Thud.
If not for the silent-appearing man grabbing the muzzle.
“You. Stations count as train parts. That was train assault equivalent.”
Scar slashing his face, killer glare.
Casual clothes over ripped muscles.
Unarmed, but thumbing the chamber showed mad magic-gun know-how.
“Shard Knight!”
“Sir Bolteus!”
‘Found him!’
Reporters’ buzz confirmed: the man before me was my target.
Of the five knightly-looking, two Aura Knights.
The other three, tougher-looking? What?
‘Shard Knight! Gotta learn what these guys do!’
Power rivaling millennium-old Aura Knights, just years old.
System-hyped World 4 clear core.
Force linking to data soul blocking server return.
All mysteries in one man.
“Mister, knights okay ditching swords?”
“Noble, nine-year-old knight fanboy... Horrid.”
Shard Knight. Fragment Knight Sir Bolteus.
Totally unlike World 3 knights I knew.
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