Chapter 56: Reaping the Harvest - 9
Chapter 56: Reaping the Harvest - 9
Waris City Hall.
Though Waris was a major city with a heavy flow of traffic even by Warsland standards, its city hall was a mere three-story building.
The modest scale of the place reflected the true state of affairs.
"Today's agenda?"
Humans, Elves, and Beastmen seated around the table exchanged glances.
These were the officials who handled Waris's administrative affairs—belonging to neither Blue nor Purple.
All were Normal Grade, yet they were the ones who had kept the city running.
"Word is Blue and Purple are in talks over the Madrum Murder Case."
"And every Elf is seeing red. Some are even making noise about storming the Blue Seal barracks right now and killing the culprit."
"Plenty of young hotheads among them. Who's leading the charge?"
"The second son of the Galak Family. Seems he sees this as a chance to make a name for himself. He's been meeting with the younger ones every day, stirring them up."
"Blue Seal has gone on a war footing. They're dispatching another Unique under the pretext of an inspection. Should arrive before long."
"Is this going to turn into a war?"
An anxious murmur passed around the table.
Blue and Purple had signed an armistice centuries ago and instead waged the Summoning War.
Yet across that centuries-long history, the specter of open war had reared its head more than once.
"Isn't this a simple fix? Blue Seal pays reparations and hands over the culprit. Why all this silence?"
"I couldn't say. Pride, perhaps?"
"The Unique currently stationed here—the Dark Elf Woniak—she's probably quite pleased that an Elf died. Could it be she's simply looking the other way?"
"You go too far."
The Dark Elf man seated at the far end bristled.
"It is true that Lady Woniak is a Dark Elf, but I imagine she wants this settled as much as anyone else. No one desires war. The problem is that she belongs to Blue Seal and cannot act on her own discretion."
"Hmm..."
"We need a dramatic resolution. Terms that both Blue and Purple can accept."
"What about Pamin? Pamin Razen is in this city, is he not? Why isn't he doing anything? As the eldest son of the Razen Family and the fiancé of the Yormun successor, doesn't he carry considerable weight among the younger Elves?"
The Beastman shook his head at the question.
"He's in seclusion."
"Seclusion? Now, of all times?"
"The public story is that he is grieving and distraught over the death of his friends..."
"So he's washing his hands of it? Stepping back at a moment this urgent will cost him all trust among his own kin."
"I thought the same and tried to advise him... but apparently he refuses to see anyone."
Displeased looks circled the table.
"That one's useless. Completely useless."
"And that's exactly why the Galak whelp is running wild. If he can claim credit here, the Galak Family climbs the ladder and takes control of the Council."
"If he decides to prove his worth by actually attacking the Blue Seal barracks, that means real war. We have to prevent that."
Should war break out anew, Waris would be the first to burn.
Among those present, the longer-lived races had witnessed firsthand how much blood had been spilled in the struggle to claim Waris for their own.
"If Blue won't budge, what about Purple? What is Purple's Yormun doing?"
"Lady Yormun only said she was negotiating. But as you know, her temperament isn't exactly accommodating... and on top of that, she and Woniak are sworn enemies."
"Because the notion of an Elf and a Dark Elf sitting at the same table and talking productively is a fantasy."
At someone's sarcastic jab, an Elf gave a pained smile.
"Let's not go that far. I'm an Elf sitting right here, and isn't young Kamran over there a Dark Elf? Yes, things are a bit awkward between us, but we still manage to hear each other out."
"I'll second that, with conditions. We might not share a drink together, but we can debate."
The light joke eased the mood around the table.
"In any case, talking among ourselves won't change anything. We need to open every channel of communication with both camps and seal this up before those young Elves commit a blunder that spirals out of control."
"About that..."
A calm voice drew every gaze toward the head of the table.
The elderly Elf wore a peculiar smile.
He was the oldest person in the room: Dudinel, the mayor of Waris.
"I'll meet with the involved parties from both sides, one at a time. Summon them."
"You mean personally, Mr. Mayor?"
"I won't know what they resent or what must be done until I speak with them directly, will I? Tell Lady Leticia and Lady Woniak to come. And fetch that hot-blooded second son of Galak as well."
"Understood. I'll make the arrangements."
Dudinel was Normal Grade, without Mana, but he possessed the authority of long years.
Elves respected their elders. Even Woniak, a Dark Elf, would not be able to flatly refuse a request from Dudinel.
The atmosphere brightened with hope.
Afternoon.
Jiha was training.
The barracks did not provide training equipment or programs designed for humans.
It was exceedingly rare for a human to become a Common in the first place.
So Jiha had staked out a corner of the barracks and created his own regimen.
"Once more..."
Jiha faced the wall and drove his fist forward.
His Mana-reinforced punch struck, and the wall groaned, shuddering from the impact.
Drawing his fist back, Jiha focused Mana between his fingers and swept his hand.
Pakak!
An invisible gale surged, and crack—fissures split across the wall's surface.
When he punched, the cracking had been centered around the point of impact. Now an entire patch the size of a man had been clawed and shredded apart.
With a crumbling rumble, bricks tumbled free like paper cut by a blade.
The new ability Jiha had obtained: the Wind Blade.
"So this was Leticia's ability."
The core principle of Leticia's fist-and-foot technique—the attack that ignored defense—was this.
She could manifest and hurl tearing winds in close combat.
Thick armor, scales—the Wind Blade shredded them all.
It was an incredibly useful ability in close-quarters fighting.
"The power is excellent, but the range is far too short. And the Mana consumption is severe..."
Each use of the Wind Blade stripped away his defense as well.
At least for now, Jiha couldn't use it recklessly. He would have to save it as a finishing blow.
"Still, this confirms it. When I drink someone's blood directly, I absorb a slightly altered version of their Special Ability."
Doing it multiple times had erased any doubt.
Drinking Enril's blood had produced Shadow Hand. Yura's blood gave him Wings. Leticia's blood yielded the Wind Blade.
"Now, what to do next..."
Growing stronger was satisfying, but now wasn't the time to drain all three women again.
They needed time to replenish their blood properly.
For some reason Gashiel is currently absent, and the only Purple Unique in Waris right now is Leticia. For now, I should tame Leticia one more time, then look into supplementing with Rare Grade blood...
As Jiha weighed his next moves, he sensed someone approaching and concealed his Mana.
The figure walking toward him with audible footsteps was a familiar face.
The stunning beauty, the Dark Elf Enril.
The fact that she hadn't hidden her presence meant she had business here.
"Where's the towel?"
"What?"
"Weren't you going to wipe my sweat?"
"..."
Jiha's words.
The mention of the time she had wiped down his body made Enril freeze mid-step.
Under Jiha's unwavering stare, Enril shifted awkwardly, turned her head, and spoke.
"The mayor of Waris contacted Blue Seal. He's asked me to come... It's probably about the dead Elves. He's trying to mediate between Blue and Purple."
"Hm."
The odd edge in Enril's reaction was likely because reporting this to him felt profoundly strange.
A Unique reporting to Jiha, a mere Common, and waiting for his instructions—the situation had to taste bitter to her.
But if she didn't tell Jiha, she had no idea what he might do to her later.
So she reported, and she couldn't hide how alien it still felt.
And when Jiha brought up the time they had shared a bed, she recalled that moment, her cheeks coloring anew.
Confirming that she had been thoroughly tamed, Jiha nodded.
But Enril still looked like she had more to say.
"Something else?"
"...Purple's Unique, Leticia. I heard she went back this morning."
"And?"
"..."
Enril's face showed the words caught in her throat.
The hesitation was unlike her.
She wanted to ask what had happened between Jiha and Leticia the night before.
But she couldn't bring herself to voice it.
Whether Jiha had held Leticia or not.
Leticia was a Unique? So was Enril, and hadn't she been pinned under Jiha, gasping sweetly?
If this man set his mind to it, he would play someone like Leticia like a child—tease her, toy with her as he pleased.
"..."
But even with those thoughts running through her head, Enril couldn't give them voice.
Because she herself didn't understand why she cared.
And because she didn't know how Jiha would take it.
The psychology of a woman gauging a man's mood.
Enril was flustered because this was her first experience with such a thing.
To Jiha, who understood women, it was all transparent.
"I persuaded Leticia. There won't be a problem."
"...I see."
Jiha could read her tangled feelings plainly and chose to feign ignorance.
A meal tasted better when you let it simmer.
He would store Enril's complicated state of mind and collect on it later at the right time.
Jiha shifted the subject.
"About the mayor's summons—don't go."
"...This is an official request. Even if the mayor of Waris holds almost no real power, I can't just ignore it without providing a reason."
Jiha cut her off flatly.
"I'll go."
It was time to start laying the groundwork to take this city.