Chapter 284 Independence -13
Chapter 284 Independence -13
Lowchen was a wanted man.
He was the prime suspect accused of murdering Waris citizens, summoning Shades, and wreaking havoc on public order.
Actually, suspect was the wrong word. He was guilty of all of it.
Yet Lowchen stood there bold as brass, face uncovered.
The people around him stole glances but couldn't bring themselves to be certain.
Surely a notorious monster like that wouldn't just stroll into a high-society party, would he?
Especially not right in front of Jiha, who had declared martial law.
It was the equivalent of a nationally wanted serial killer walking into the police commissioner's office.
"She's very wet too."
"......"
Jiha offered a casual annotation to Lowchen's remark.
Pairan's face flared scarlet. She glared, but Jiha kept his eyes forward.
Lowchen was also in formal attire, adhering to the dress code. The only difference was the two longswords at his hip.
'Hundreds, he says...'
The moment Lowchen drew his swords in this ballroom, everyone except Jiha and Pairan would die.
And hundreds of Shades would be born from the corpses.
Taking Lowchen on alone was one thing, but this battlefield was far too disadvantageous.
"Are we doing this here?"
Jiha smiled lightly.
Lowchen was strong, but not invincible. Raising Shades from corpses clearly had limits.
'If he could summon Shades infinitely, he'd have no reason to join Ouroboros. He could just endlessly slaughter civilians by himself. His Shade summoning must have a limit, and he can probably only call up those he kills personally...'
It was said that the stronger the corpse had been in life, the stronger the Shade that emerged.
If any random corpse would do, Lowchen would have become a grave robber, not a swordsman.
"After I finish my drink."
Lowchen gave his glass a light swirl, then looked at Pairan.
"An unmarried maiden has no place at an event like this. Go home."
Both Jiha and Pairan looked equally dumbfounded.
"That has got to be the least Warsland thing anyone's ever said."
"......I'm going to stop you, brother."
"And she's not a maiden anymore."
Pairan bristled at Jiha's added comment but held her tongue.
She hated letting it slide, but she didn't dare bare her teeth at Jiha.
Lowchen shook his head at the acrid atmosphere between his sister and Jiha.
"She's my sister, but she has no eye for men."
"Well, her model for men growing up was you, so what do you expect? Give her credit for self-improvement."
"......Both of you. Seriously."
Pairan's patience snapped into open irritation.
Jiha and Lowchen, naturally, were only looking at each other.
Having infiltrated the party in a mini dress, Pairan had no weapon. She'd stashed arms near the ballroom, but...
Lowchen assessed his sister's lack of armament, and Jiha spoke.
"How about a temporary alliance?"
"Against Alex?"
Jiha and Lowchen both fully intended to kill each other. Neither had any plans to change his mind.
Neither was the type to serve under another, and leaving the other alive seemed only to guarantee future interference.
But a common enemy made cooperation possible.
Lowchen shook his head.
"No need. I can handle Alex alone. You can't."
What he meant was: Jiha was far more dangerous than Alex, so he refused.
In truth, Jiha wasn't actually concerned about Alex intervening either.
"What if the two of us fight and Alex just reaps the benefits? Your sister would end up as that lunatic's plaything."
"I'm not that weak."
Pairan bristled again.
She'd reached Unique. Why was everyone treating her like the weakest link?
"If you were strong, Lowchen would've been dead long ago. He could have killed you every time you tried to stop him, but he let you live over and over."
"Because I need my sister to bring about the Night King's Advent more easily."
"What a charmless brother. He literally names me first when picking a fight."
Jiha laughed coldly.
Even a strong opponent became easy prey if they let their guard down. And the vast majority of Uniques got careless at the drop of a hat and suffered badly at Jiha's hands.
Lowchen was different.
If anything, he regarded Jiha as more dangerous than anyone he'd ever fought and was determined to eliminate him first.
'So the sowing-discord strategy was only half successful.'
He had managed to set Alex and Lowchen—fellow Ouroboros members—against each other.
But Lowchen considered Jiha a far greater threat than Alex and had resolved to dispose of him first.
During the standoff, Sirel approached Jiha's side carrying a glass of wine in each hand.
"This came recommended. They said it's really good..."
She pressed a glass of green liquor into Jiha's hand, then looked ahead and froze solid.
She might be a bit oblivious to gossip, but she recognized the face on the wanted posters plastered everywhere. Lowchen's face.
Not that she could have missed it. Yogwi were a rare species to begin with, and their distinctive physical traits made him unmistakable.
With Sirel's wine in hand, Jiha spoke while keeping his eyes on Lowchen ahead.
"Sorry, Sirel, but drinking together will have to wait."
"......Okay."
Sirel's face was taut with tension.
She understood the situation had turned dangerous.
"Pairan, get Sirel out of here. Join up with Barjet or do whatever, but once you're certain Sirel is safe, come back."
"You'll be fine alone?"
The question slipped out before Pairan could stop it, and she stiffened her expression.
She clearly didn't like how much she'd sounded as if she was worried.
Jiha answered shortly.
"If anything happens to Sirel, I'm holding you responsible. Take that responsibility seriously."
"......Will you be okay?"
This time it was Sirel who asked, worry in her voice.
A healer, she didn't know much about combat, but her instincts screamed that Lowchen was an extremely dangerous opponent.
"I'll come back without a scratch, so have the drinks ready."
"Alright. Be careful."
Knowing she'd only be in Jiha's way if she stayed, Sirel reluctantly agreed.
Keeping Lowchen in check, Pairan led Sirel out of the ballroom.
Lowchen simply watched them go. Pairan, the nuisance, was voluntarily removing herself. No need to stop her.
'Lowchen doesn't want to kill Pairan if he can avoid it. Even if someone else gets in the way, Pairan's skill level can protect Sirel without issue.'
Besides, Pairan could never bring herself to be ruthless against Lowchen.
Jiha had used her as bait to lure Lowchen, nothing more.
He'd also hoped she might serve as the spark to make Alex and Lowchen fight, but both men had their own agendas, making that impossible.
"I'll fight, but I'm not exactly thrilled about it."
Ultimately, fighting Lowchen risked doing Alex a huge favor.
Lowchen replied curtly.
"If you die fast, there'll be no advantage for anyone else."
"In that case, why don't you just kill yourself right now? World peace would throw a party."
"Your death would make it happier than mine would."
Lowchen pronounced Jiha an even greater source of conflict in Warsland than himself.
"Based on what? No matter how you look at it, I've killed fewer people than you."
Getting called the villain by someone who'd butchered uninvolved civilians—absurd.
"That'll reverse itself soon enough."
"......"
Lowchen knew Jiha was planning to declare independence.
Then again, by now Asira and Yura would be moving with their forces, so it was no great surprise.
Not just Waris—Enril and Leticia were each leading their loyal dark elves and elves to seize other cities.
By tomorrow morning, everyone in Warsland would know a third faction had emerged.
A new faction, neither Blue nor Purple.
Jiha smirked.
That was tomorrow morning's business. Tonight, he needed to clear away the obstacle right in front of him.
"Fine. Shall we begin, then?"
"......"
Jiha and Lowchen locked eyes and raised their glasses to their lips.
The moment either looked away was an opening, and both knew the other would seize it. Their mouths drank, but their minds sharpened to a razor's edge.
Both men emptied their glasses and then—as if by unspoken agreement—hurled them at each other's feet.
Crash!
At the sudden, piercing sound, hundreds of prominent guests turned around.
Jiha, the man who had declared martial law over Waris, and Lowchen, the root cause of the entire crisis. Even those who hadn't recognized Lowchen's face immediately recoiled in horror once they registered his odd eyes.
"W-wait..."
"N-no way?"
A male Yogwi facing off against Jiha. People grew uneasy, praying it wasn't true.
But Jiha and Lowchen drew their weapons without a flicker of hesitation.
"Kyaaaaaaah!"
A woman's shattering scream became the melody that opened the fight.
Barjet was descending the mansion's staircase.
"Why in the world am I doing this..."
Her figure in the party dress was breathtaking.
The plunging neckline that hinted at her bosom and the elegantly side-slit purple dress made every servant she passed stare helplessly, and the male guests openly stole glances and tried to strike up conversation.
One man actually abandoned the woman he'd been talking to and rushed toward her—she had to recoil and flee.
"I want to go back to my room..."
She wanted to lock herself in an empty room, stretch out her legs, and lie down comfortably. And do absolutely nothing.
Barjet had never been the indolent type before, but ever since meeting Jiha, she kept finding herself wanting exactly that.
"Criticizing what a person wears, assigning me errands like this..."
She was a person worth respecting as an individual. Even setting that aside—wasn't she one of only ten Uniques in all of Warsland?
Dismissing her was tantamount to insulting every witch, and perfectly grounds for political repercussions.
So... until now, Barjet had coasted through life without major trouble. People had always crawled on their own—she never even had to do anything.
Sure, men had often leered at her with indecent eyes, but she could reduce the frequency by wearing unrevealing clothes. When pushed, she could always reveal her grade: Unique.
Until she met Jiha.
"Haaa..."
Barjet shook her head and sighed.
Jiha was a truly inscrutable man. She'd gotten entangled with him, and on top of that, she'd given her body to him.
She let him do as he pleased, let herself be swept along however he wanted. This was going to end in real disaster.
She honestly wanted to run away in secret.
It would be humiliating for a Unique like her to flee because she was afraid of a man, but... she was genuinely afraid.
But when she'd obliquely sounded Yura Hairedeu out about it...
"If you run away, Lord Jiha will be truly furious... and when he catches you, you'll die. And he will catch you, absolutely... Are you sure you'd be okay with that? It won't just be me—others will be tracking you too, Lady Barjet."
That was the answer she'd gotten, delivered with a genuinely worried expression.
If another Unique was saying things like that, there was no room left to doubt that Jiha was terrifying.
"Why does it have to be me..."
Mid-sigh, Barjet slowly clenched her fist.
She wanted to escape from Jiha, but she had no confidence she could even safely make it out of Waris right now.
She'd traveled before, but she'd never fled for her life.
"Fine. Okay... I'll make a deal."
Barjet forced herself to cling to hope.
She'd personally felt that Jiha—who at first just seemed like a terrifying madman—was, unexpectedly, the type to keep his word.
Hadn't he declared her his woman and fucked her in the fitting room, and yet afterward acted subtly, gently tender toward her?
...It was messed up that she had to welcome that, but anyway.
"Once I pull this off, I'll make a deal. I'll ask him to let me go."
As it happened, her current assignment was to locate the celestial Unique, Gashiel.
She'd found another Unique for him. Asking to be released in return would not be an unreasonable thing to say.
According to Jiha, Gashiel was confined inside the mansion, somewhere no staff would be around.
The one who'd imprisoned her would see to her personally, he'd said. He would never entrust it to anyone else.
'And he said it would be either the top floor or the bottom...'
She'd had to memorize the mansion's floor plan—the one Jiha himself handed her—so thoroughly she could recite it in her sleep. He'd actually quizzed her afterward, so not memorizing it wasn't an option.
She'd snooped around the top floor and found nothing, so on the way down, she'd been picking only deserted areas to search.
When she sensed security, she pretended she'd gotten lost and turned back.
All according to Jiha's instructions.
"No one will be guarding her... he said."
That assurance was the only reason Barjet had taken this mission with any peace of mind.
This particular staircase showed no sign of anyone no matter how far she descended.
What awaited Barjet—who thought this time might be different—was an enormous iron door.
"...There's not even a lock?"
She knocked on it. The sound echoed, confirming a space beyond. It was a door, not a solid wall.
Barjet took a deep breath and summoned her Mana.
"Right. Not a person, so no problem. Master, I'm going to use a bit of strength."
Packing her Mana into the blow, Barjet kicked the iron door.
It buckled but didn't break, making her frown.
"Hyaap!!"
She hauled together a massive concentration of Mana, shaped it into a sphere, then simply rammed it into the door, blasting a large hole through it.
Shoving unrefined Mana at a target was terribly inefficient, but Uniques recovered Mana almost instantly anyway, so it hardly mattered.
KWAANG!!
The iron door couldn't withstand it and flew off its hinges, revealing the interior.
"Hoo, well then..."
Barjet stepped inside.
Just as expected, Gashiel was there.
And something else was there too.
Barjet suddenly wanted to run away.