Chapter 309
Chapter 309
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 309
Chapter Title: Uninvited Guest (2)
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"...Of course, because you seem suspicious."
Sincere. Yareli stated her thoughts without hiding a single bit.
"Ah... Could I ask what about me doesn't sit right with you?"
"It's not that I dislike you. Quite the opposite, actually."
Oliver tilted his head. That statement was sincere too.
He didn't personally dislike her, but suspicious? It felt contradictory somehow.
Even the one who said it seemed to sense that, hesitating for a moment before shaking her head.
As if shaking off complicated thoughts.
"Of course... At first, I didn't like you. You waltzed into the Magic Tower—something everyone else would kill to even step foot in—and then abused vacation days."
"Ah... I'm sorry about that too."
"Personally, I can't stand people like that. The young masters who join just to build connections or pad their resumes. They might help financially, but overall, they muddy the waters."
Oliver could agree to an extent this time as well.
Early in the semester, he'd been dragged around and seen plenty of them.
The young masters who donated to join the Magic Tower just for the prestige and networking mostly pretended to work and barely showed up.
For them, the career boost and schmoozing mattered more than actually working.
Of course, plenty of Magic Tower students hung around with them too, but anyway, Oliver got the gist of what Yareli meant.
"Hmm... Well, you're no young master, at least."
Oliver recalled one of the many rumors swirling around him.
Yareli nodded.
"Yeah, I know. I've seen you work a few times. Definitely not your average young master. You know a fair bit about magic too, and especially—if you were a young master, you never would've convinced Derek."
"Ah... That was on the professor's orders."
"Even if ordered, pulling it off is another matter... Impressive."
Yareli said it with genuine sincerity this time too.
Unlike her curt demeanor, she was good at acknowledging people.
"Thanks for the praise... So, why do I seem suspicious to you?"
"Do you happen to know why Derek suddenly stopped coming to class?"
Yareli answered the question with another question. Oliver tilted his head.
"Well... I only heard rumors."
"Even rumors—could you share?"
"...I heard he picked a fight with some black magician at a party and lost."
"Yes, exactly. Right in front of the city's tycoons. Pretty damaging stuff."
"Yeah, I know."
"So I tried to talk him out of it. Told him it was dangerous... Do you know why he fought the black magician?"
Just as Oliver was about to answer that it was because he'd sabotaged the Redhill Family's new thermal power investment—Derek's family—
he caught Yareli eyeing him like a hunter sizing up prey and opened his mouth.
"Hmm... No idea. I know there was some dispute, but nothing specific."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"...The black magician logically criticized the Redhill Family's business, which sparked the fight. Weird. You'd think that'd be part of the rumors too."
Yareli cast the bait again, and Oliver dodged it once more.
"Sorry. Didn't hear that much detail. Just overheard it in passing."
"I see."
"Yes... So, how does that make me suspicious?"
"...No, it doesn't."
Yareli lied for the first time.
Oliver wondered just how deep her suspicions ran and wanted to probe, but realized that would be a bad move and decided to change the subject.
Conveniently, he had something he wanted to ask anyway.
"Mind if I ask a question too?"
"What?"
"I don't get why I'm suspicious, but anyway, I am... So why help me? Back there. Wouldn't it have been better not to?"
Oliver recalled taking Bathory's disciple's attack while trusting Yareli.
If she hadn't helped, he'd have been pinned by the hatpin and dragged off helplessly.
"Regardless of my personal suspicions, I can't just ignore a Magic Tower colleague in danger."
"...Magic Tower colleague?"
"Yes. No matter what, Mr. Xenon works hard at the Tower."
This was sincere too.
Separate from her personal doubts, publicly she cared about Oliver's well-being.
Limited to those who worked diligently at the Tower, but even so, she was generous compared to most at the Magic Tower.
Considering the Tower's ethos of not recognizing anyone who wasn't a student or mage as "Tower folk."
Coming to the Magic Tower per Merlin's suggestion had definitely been the right call.
He'd come to read books, sure, but also to check out the people—and there were plenty of interesting ones here.
Feeling curious, Oliver slowly approached Yareli.
So naturally that she only noticed when he was right in her face.
"What is it?"
"One more question? Something I've wanted to ask for a while."
"Why did you sign up for Professor Kevin's class?"
Yareli flinched.
Not as direct as Kevin's phrasing, but the question hit a nerve—likely due to whatever went down between her father and Kevin.
"...Why ask that?"
He nearly spilled the anecdote about Kevin and her father but caught himself—his instincts told him she'd clam up.
"No reason, just... A lot of students showed up because you enrolled in his class. Personally grateful, but I don't quite get it. Someone like you could take better classes, no?"
"...Professor Kevin's class wasn't bad."
"I agree. But it's his first semester teaching, and his reputation's poor—no way to know it'd be good beforehand."
Oliver poked without hitting the sore spot directly, persistently pressing, and Yareli reacted subtly without showing it outright.
Oliver was satisfied.
What could he say... He'd always seemed to rub people the wrong way and fail to get what he wanted just by opening his mouth, but not this time.
Thanks to his years in Landa, he could now speak with some finesse.
He was almost proud of himself.
Yareli thought for a moment before answering. With some sincerity.
"...I wanted to take a class from someone who made it to Master despite starting at a disadvantage."
"Oh... Really?"
"Yes... I had room in my schedule. Weird?"
"No, not at all. Sounds admirable... Thanks for answering. And for helping earlier. I made it out thanks to you."
With a satisfying answer, Oliver started to part ways.
"By etiquette, I should treat you to a meal later, but I doubt we'll have time. So if you ever need help, just say the word. If I can, I will. Thanks again for the assist. Well, I'll be—"
"—Wait."
"Yes?"
"That woman earlier... You really don't know her?"
"Hmm... No idea."
Oliver lied.
Huff. Huff. Huff.
Erzsébet Unner—Bathory's daughter and disciple—gasped for breath.
Half-dead but half-alive, she still needed to breathe, and the foul sewer stench assaulted her nostrils mercilessly.
Lucky she'd grown used to this life lately, or she'd have puked up all the blood she'd drunk today.
"You okay?"
"What happened?"
"Couldn't find him?"
"You hurt?"
Her sisters—fellow disciples—clustered around her like chicks, anxiously checking her over.
Four in total. Including herself, just five.
They'd once had ten times that many sisters. How it came to this was a mystery.
'...Ever since Mother went missing?'
Erzsébet thought of their master—the mother who'd given them a second life—Bathory.
She'd crossed the sea to Celland to get revenge on the Magic Tower scum who'd tricked her and reclaim her rightful place.
True to her name, she'd silently seized one of the Tower's facilities and hatched a grand plan to siphon all its resources and knowledge from there.
Erzsébet knew better than anyone, with regular updates.
She'd been left in charge of the base while Bathory was away.
But one day, contact with Mother Bathory suddenly cut off.
Without any warning.
Not only that—dozens of sisters sent to assist her all went silent too.
Clearly no ordinary matter.
So Erzsébet sent sisters to investigate, and soon got unbelievable news.
Some low-level Magic Tower employee on inspection duty showed up at Mother's Mountain Face base with a fixer in tow and beat her.
Absurd.
Mother was a powerhouse who'd clashed with the Human Flesh Chef, and her accompanying sisters were no slouches—better than most mages.
Yet defeated by two nobodies? Logically and emotionally, Erzsébet couldn't accept it.
She hadn't even considered others might hear the news.
'Or maybe that's when it started...'
The news spread to other black magician groups, sparking challenges from families coveting the blood elixir recipe.
The elixir that restored health and vigor to men, youth to women—everyone wanted it.
Bathory, who could stand against the Human Flesh Chef, had merely kept them in check.
With her gone, they all moved freely.
At first, things held up.
They were elites trained by Mother too. They even counterattacked some families, wiping them out and harvesting materials.
Great black magicians made prime ingredients.
But then she appeared, ruining everything.
The Human Flesh Chef's sister.
First time seeing her, though only by rumor before. She showed up with her brother's minions and ambushed them.
Black magic secret art or not, she looked early twenties, untouched by hardship, yet unleashed unfathomable spells from their stronghold, driving out the holed-up sisters.
Dozens of sisters and even more blood slaves suffered catastrophic losses. Erzsébet could only grab Mother's research notes and flee with a handful.
'Even then, most died to the Chef's sister's relentless pursuit and other families' raids.'
Erzsébet gazed at her remaining sisters—just a finger's worth now—and thought.
Maybe coming to Landa wasn't to find Mother, but to escape the chases and ambushes.
She still wanted to find her, of course. But that hope was fading.
Right?
If Mother was alive, she'd have shown up long ago.
She might be bedridden—or worst, dead.
'But I can't say it... Losing that hope too...'
Erzsébet drowned in fear of losing Mother, crushing responsibility for Bathory's Family, and anguish.
As it felt like it'd suffocate her, her sisters—fellow disciples—spoke up.
"You okay? Looks fine outside—hurt anywhere?"
Erzsébet snapped back to reality.
"No, I'm fine... Don't worry."
"Good... So what happened? Why the urgent retreat? Run into a powerful mage or black magician here?"
Erzsébet shook her head.
"Ran into a tougher bitch than expected, but nothing serious. Just pulled back before it escalated. In our state, trouble's the last thing we need."
No one could argue. Blood slaves and manpower gone from the Chef's sister's raid and others—hiding in foreign sewers with just five.
The mood sank. Erzsébet deftly pulled out good news.
"But it wasn't a total loss. Found the bastard."
"The bastard?"
"Xenon Bright. Waited in the entertainment district at semester end like they said, and sure enough, bumped into him. He even gave me his name."
"Nice one, Erzsébet! Amazing!"
"Now we skin a Magic Tower staffer, wear it, approach him. Then—"
"—What next?"
A voice echoed from the sewer depths. Oliver's.