Chapter 247: Do Not Stop (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 247: Do Not Stop (1)
He did not stop.
He scanned the darkness, confirming that not a single living soul remained. Then, without pause, he continued on his way.
"I got the order wrong," he murmured.
Down the blood-drenched hallway, his voice created a faint echo before fading into silence. It might have sounded like regret, or perhaps self-deprecation, but there was no emotion in it whatsoever.
He knew all too well what happened when emotion interfered with a blade meant for a one-sided slaughter: the one wielding it was bound to get hurt.
"If I knew I'd end up killing them all anyway, I shouldn't have bothered with the palace. I should have just come here first."
He had tried to preserve the Brissen forces. He had wanted to keep as many troops as possible to prepare for an unknown future. That was why he hadn't touched a single hair on their heads when he drove Silike out.
But now that things had come to this, it seemed he would have to eliminate not only everyone in the Brissen mansion in Kairisis but also all the troops in the Brissen Marquisate.
If he had known this would be the outcome, he should have struck Evan down first instead of dealing with Silike.
Step, step.
Not even a sliver of moonlight penetrated the absolute darkness, yet his feet ascended the stairs without a moment of hesitation.
"Ah… but if I had, Pea would have caught Renieri’s scent and gone mad."
The man had already been at his limit back then. The scent of Renieri would never have faded, and if left alone, he would have eventually lost his mind.
"So, it was a good thing I put this off."
What a relief. Even if it meant he was doing this sort of thing again.
"...Well, saving a life is never an easy task."
Chuckling softly, he left his voice to linger on the silent stairs. Talking to himself had become a habit—speaking to those about to die, uttering his thoughts beside those already dead. It was a habit formed from constantly walking through places filled with those who could no longer make a sound.
Patter!
Over a dozen men appeared as if they had been waiting, blocking his path. It was a scene that had repeated itself several times now. Evan must have sensed that the Seal of Oath he shared with Franz had been triggered and prepared his defenses accordingly, almost as if hoping to wear him down.
Whoosh!
Before he could even distinguish if they were knights or soldiers, or whether they even intended to fight, a dark red blade carved a smooth arc through the air. They looked like they wanted to say something, but they never got the chance. The boy standing before them had already decided he would no longer listen to their words.
Thud.
No human voices, no screams—only the heavy thuds of bodies collapsing to the floor filled the hallway.
He walked past them, his sunken red eyes checking to see that their breathing had ceased before turning away. His steps, neither rushed nor leisurely, continued onward without a single pause.
After passing through two more long hallways and climbing another flight of stairs, he arrived at a place where light still lingered.
"You are faster than I expected."
At last, a welcome voice.
Calian closed and opened his eyes but didn't answer. He simply walked forward, his sword pointed toward the ground. The steady sound of his footsteps was punctuated by the tip of his blade scraping against the marble floor.
Most of the knights guarding the mansion were dead. He had let those who fled go, but he had killed every single one who attacked without exception, without missing a single one. From the moment he scaled the outer wall, entered the main building, and ascended through its halls and stairways, he had not rested for even a moment.
"How did you keep the Second Prince alive?" Evan asked, watching him approach without so much as a single heavy breath. "I am quite curious why the Third Prince is so involved in matters concerning the Second Prince. I am also curious how to use this stone. I have many questions."
He held up the black pebble he must have received from Gray.
Calian ignored the stone in Evan’s hand and smiled brightly.
"I have something I'm curious about, too."
It took some time to clear out the others on my way up because I didn't want to be interrupted while dealing with you. So, I'll ask just one thing.
"If I were to ask you to teach me Brissen's swordsmanship, would you agree?"
"Why would I reveal Brissen's swordsmanship to an outsider?"
"...I see."
Step, step.
"So, Third Prince—"
Fwoosh!
Calian kicked off the floor and lunged.
A killing intent powerful enough to swallow the entire mansion erupted from him. The hem of his black robe caught the wind, fluttering like a butterfly's wings.
*
Arsen set down the magic book he was holding and turned his head.
—It's working.
Hina's voice came through the communication bracelet Kyrie had given her. They needed to respond immediately if Franz's condition changed, but Hina, who would be the first to notice, was too busy casting healing magic to move her hands.
"So it was cast properly."
He knew the "effect" Hina spoke of wasn't an improvement. He could tell that much without her saying it. Franz's deathly pale complexion hadn't changed at all.
He simply no longer felt the pain.
"This is a first for me. How unfamiliar."
He had cast plenty of spells to end lives, but this was his first time casting one to ease someone's pain. His philosophy was simple: if you fight and die, you were simply weak. If you lose a fight but don't die or get hurt, you were weak but lucky. And if a weakling with decent luck only got hurt, they deserved the pain.
A mad mage who lived by such a creed would have no reason to know pain-relief magic. If he had, he would have used it on himself when he was injured in the forest. That had hurt quite a bit. After all, Arsen himself was not weak, so he didn't fall into the category of those who deserved to suffer.
—Thanks to you, he seems much more comfortable. I'm so glad.
While training with Tensil's healers, Hina had heard that Alan had once cast a magic similar to healing on Calian. Recalling this, she had mentioned it to Arsen. He had flipped through a few books, found the magic formula, skimmed it, and immediately poured his mana into Franz.
Fortunately, it worked.
It wasn't that he had acted in a hurry because Franz looked to be in severe pain. He had just given it a rough try, thinking it would be nice if it worked, and if not, so be it. It was absolutely not because he was worried about the prince—who was said to be gentle deep down—suffering so terribly that he had frantically searched for and cast the spell.
"I am a mage, after all."
If Hina had known how reckless he had just been, she would have kicked him out immediately. If Needlen had known, he would have made a huge fuss about erecting a statue to the genius mage who had perfectly calculated and instantly cast a spell he had never seen before.
Of course, Arsen had no intention of telling Hina the truth. He knew very well that if Calian ever found out about this, he would either tear up the apology letter in the safe or tear Arsen himself apart.
"If I couldn't cast a spell from a book, I couldn't call myself a mage. Still, it's nothing to boast about, so please pretend you don't know."
Hina didn't reply, which felt awkward. After briefly informing him of the outcome, she had returned her full attention to monitoring Franz. In truth, she was so busy pouring her healing power into Franz's heart without pause that she had no mental capacity to listen to Arsen's nonsense.
As Hina's face was also turning pale, Arsen forced down the thought that her healing power would soon run out, and Franz would die. Instead, he began to organize his thoughts to grasp the situation.
There was the trace of mana that he himself had recently felt. And upon closer inspection, another energy, now greatly faded with time.
He let out a shallow breath as the words he had heard from Kyrie echoed in his mind.
—The two of them shared a Seal of Oath.
He had just learned from Alan that Franz now had two seals, and that they had become completely tangled with the power of the blessing, causing this whole mess.
I don't know what was said to trigger the Seal of Oath, but this is a bizarre situation.
The Seal of Oath was a "smart" magic created by Sispanian. It was a power that judged for itself whether a promise was kept and constricted the heart accordingly. Calian had played a trick on that very seal.
Since Franz had betrayed Brissen, the magic to stop his heart should have activated. However, because what Franz said to the knight meant he was keeping the second contract, the Seal of Oath couldn't decide what to do. It was caught between leaving his heart alone for fulfilling the second promise and stopping his heart for breaking the first.
Because of that, the magic trying to constrict Franz's heart was activating and deactivating repeatedly…
Is he dying and coming back to life over and over?
It was just as bizarre as he had thought. Had it not been for Sispanian's blessing, he wouldn't have lasted long with his heart repeatedly stopping and starting. But the blessing was doing its job diligently, and Hina was doing her best, so somehow, Franz was still breathing.
"I certainly have a good eye for people," Arsen muttered. Who on earth makes a Seal of Oath about a cat and wagers their heart on it? So, I definitely have a good eye for people.
Letting out a dry laugh, Arsen's gaze returned to Franz's face. He stared blankly at the man who had caused his own two seals to clash and ended up bedridden, and chuckled.
"Come to think of it, there's another one right here."
One wagered his heart to save him, and the other offered up his heart, trusting he would be saved.
…They are equally crazy brothers.
*
The Seal of Oath had not disappeared. That meant he was still fine.
I didn't make this contract just to check if the Pea is still green and fresh.
Chuckling at the unexpected benefit, Calian took a breath, mentally organizing the Brissen swordsmanship Evan had shown so far. Then, he thrust his sword forward again.
Clang! Clang!
A brief exchange of blows continued as they tested each other. It was different from Franz's swordsmanship and different from the style used by the palace knights. He had never crossed swords with Gray, but judging by his movements, it was different from his as well.
It was heavier than Teilan's style but lighter than Suleiman's. Slower than Teilan's but faster than Suleiman's. The true swordsmanship of Brissen, which he had never even heard of, was definitely unique.
Put harshly, it was a style that was neither here nor there. Put favorably, it was a style capable of dealing with both extremes.
"Good," Calian smiled.
A swordsmanship used solely by the head of the family. Teilan had never made any special mention of Brissen's sword. In fact, was anything known about it other than that it was as strong as Siegfried's?
Is it recorded somewhere, or is there another successor?
Successor. Lennon Brissen?
Lennon is known to be unable to use a sword. Besides, didn't Evan imprison Lennon when he shared the Seal of Oath with Master?
Of course, since the contract was merely about not revealing the imprisonment, he could have faked it. However, Calian had never felt any aura from Lennon. Above all, Lennon's body was far too sluggish for a swordsman.
It's premature to suspect Lennon. If he wasn't hiding a successor but simply didn't have one, how long did he intend to keep it to himself? Did he really plan to take it to his grave?
Or was he hiding something else?
Clang!
His thoughts were multiplying. Too many thoughts during a fight led to death.
Calian set the questions aside for now and moved his sword once more. No sooner had his attack from behind Evan been blocked than he reappeared in front, aiming for his throat.
Clang! Clang!
The red eyes beneath his hood gleamed. He missed nothing—not a single footstep, a shift of an arm, or the arc of Evan’s blade. He committed it all to memory.
Clash! Clang!
Evan's sword grazed Calian's chin. Immediately after, Evan deflected the blade shimmering with dark red light that was approaching his heart.
Hum!
Evan's sword, infused with a sharp blue aura, let out a deep hum. Calian's aura alone was dark red; those who weren't mages had no need to circulate the unique mana and aura contained within a caster's circles.
Whoosh! Clang!
The probing exchanges had vanished, replaced by a succession of lethal strikes. Two distinctly different colors of aura intertwined and parted, again and again.
The sword thrust toward Evan gouged the wall. Fragments of the marble floor where Calian had stood scattered in all directions. A painting on the wall lost its form, shredded by the power of their auras.
Calian raised his sword vertically to block Evan's horizontal strike. As his blade rebounded, he gripped it and slashed diagonally toward Evan's neck. Evan's swiftly recovered sword blocked the move once more.
Then, Calian leaped into the air, sending his sword from an entirely new angle.
Clash!
Sensing Calian's leap, Evan quickly raised his sword and struck back with force. Their blades and the power behind them continued to clash, blocking and repelling each other.
At that moment, as they continued a contest of strength for what felt like the hundredth time…
Clang! Clang!
Calian's eyes flashed.
Could it be?
His feet moved as if stepping on thin air. One moment he was in front of Evan, and the next, his attack was coming from behind.
His face pale with dismay at a speed that only seemed to accelerate, Evan bent low and twisted backward, swinging his sword as he moved.
Claaaaang!
The sound of tearing air echoed through the hall. The chandelier trembled, and the shadows of the two swordsmen wavered on the wall. Calian's shadow, which had just tried to pierce Evan's flank, vanished as if dispersing. At the same time, he reappeared directly in front of Evan.
Evan thrust his sword, but Calian lightly leaped backward to avoid it instead of blocking.
Tap.
He landed with a soft sound. The black robe he still wore billowed briefly before settling. The lips beneath his deeply drawn hood moved.
"Now..."
Standing face-to-face with Evan, Calian formed the next words.
"I think you can show me something else, Marquis."
"What do you mean?"
"What you've hidden."
Calian's gaze fell to Evan's sword. A wide smile spread across Evan's lips.
"Very well."
With that brief reply, the long, sharp shadow of Evan's sword twisted on the wall. Slowly, as if splitting a stick lengthwise, it divided into two thinner, sleeker shadows.
Watching this, Calian spoke, his quiet, satisfied voice echoing coldly down the long hallway.
"Yes. That."
His own sword dispersed before anyone realized. He swept his now-empty hand near his neck. The string fastening his robe came undone.
Rustle, drop!
Despite having cut down so many to reach this place, the robe was completely unstained by blood. It brushed past Calian's back and fell to the floor.
"I spent quite a long time trying to figure out what that was."
The hood was pulled back, revealing his red eyes.
From the sword he manifested once more, a dark red light dripped.