Chapter 27
Chapter 27
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 27
Chapter Title: Black Magic Tower (1)
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I headed straight to the Naphta Tribe and met Kara. She was boiling hay to feed Uni. She was incredibly devoted. If only she'd treat her future husband half as well. Though her build was petite, her sharp personality made her unpopular among the tribe.
This time, I made my request politely. I needed her magical beast to go to the edge of the world. The fringe of the dead lands. That's what the tribes called the demonic realm.
Maybe she thought I'd steal the Horn of Purity for sure. Kara pondered seriously for a moment before handing over the reins without hesitation.
"But on one condition. Three, actually."
"What are they?"
"Don't let Uni die, no matter what. And snacks only twice a day. Exactly."
It wasn't hard. No matter how demonic the realm, as long as I had a mount, I wouldn't face death head-on. Olgen scared me more. She seemed to grow stronger every time Harald gained another wife, like the number of tattoos on his body.
I took the carrot pouch and asked about the last condition. Her unexpected answer came back.
"Say you're sorry... to me!"
"Sorry for what?"
"Everything! Just say it!"
Kara looked a bit tense herself. No matter how much resentment had built up, demanding a public apology from a great warrior was bold.
In truth, Kara's grudges, Vigo's anger, even Helga's ruined weapon—they were objects of envy for other warriors. I never meddled excessively in tribal affairs or gave personal lessons to anyone. To most tribesfolk, I wasn't someone they could raise their voice to or casually challenge to a duel.
For those outside the Grassland Alliance trio, even hearing their warrior's name from my lips was a tribal honor. To make a great warrior—who had never bowed his head—kneel at her feet filled her with guilt, tension, and fear.
Still, she couldn't take back words already spoken.
"That's easy enough."
"R-Really...?"
I was calm, unfazed. It wasn't humiliating at all. Failing your goal over empty honor—that was the true shame for a warrior.
Besides, Uni was Kara's first mount, raised with utmost care. Borrowing it bare-handed meant meeting her terms was only right.
With the Naphta tribesfolk secretly watching, I opened my mouth and murmured softly.
"I'm sorry to you."
"What...?"
"Let's go, Uni. Hya!"
"Yaa—!!"
The fourth tattoo wouldn't be long now.
There were magical beasts, but the demonic realm's true masters were the wraiths. Near the Black Magic Tower, the corpses of soldiers, knights, and grassland warriors slain there rose again, exposed to the mana spewing from the tower. With the Empire's long history, their numbers were vast. Armies of old, long forgotten their purpose, circled the mountains like thousands of ants marching endlessly in a death spiral.
To reach the central magic tower, I had to break through them. Two main paths: charge straight ahead the shortest way, or join their ranks and circle clockwise with them to minimize fights.
Uni’s holy power irritated the wraiths, so blending in wasn't an option for me. I needed to climb the tower too. I wanted to conserve strength, but no avoiding it.
As I planned to smash every force in my path and push forward, something odd caught my eye.
At the tail of the wraiths swirling like a school of fish along gentle ridges, something moved against the flow. Looking closer, it was Imperial troops.
Those in white armor were Northern Defense Army soldiers, but the black-armored ones were unfamiliar. Were they sane? Circling counterclockwise meant facing hordes of wraiths.
Friction with the grassland tribes had eased since Serath left, so the 9th Legion remained at full strength. They seemed to have business at the Black Magic Tower too. Hard to believe northern experts made such a foolish choice.
Outside forces must be involved. Convenient for me. I could trail at a distance along the path they'd cleared and reach the tower easily.
"Let's go, Uni."
"Purrr—!"
As I thought that and tugged the reins, Uni suddenly veered. At the same instant, a black arrow shot for my throat. I blocked with the axe flat, sparks flying.
—Lady Rubia, what’s wrong?
—'Vigilance' flew off.
—Pardon?
—Over there.
Knight voices carried on the wind. My eyes met a black-haired woman where the arrow came from. Hearing her curt reply, the lead knight slowly turned his horse and approached. He had a refined face.
"Who are you? You look like a barbarian. Why are you lurking here?"
"I’m..."
"Never mind, I don’t care. Get lost. Or I’ll break your legs."
Skilled at turning words to whips. Fine by me. I wasn’t angry at all. Serath had treated me like a barbarian at first too. Now she saw me as a barbarian she needed to keep beside her forever.
"Fine. I’ll specially forgive you."
"What?"
"But will my axe forgive you?"
On the plains, failing to recognize strength meant death.
As I moved to summon Ancestral Power without hesitation, I spotted a familiar face. Wagner. He rushed over, pulling Alex's horse away from Uni.
"Don’t fight, Alex! Th-This man is my guest."
"Your guest?"
"Yes, a local guide to lead us to the tower. It’s fine, right... bro...?"
The word "brother" rose to his lips but didn’t escape. Unlike before, I wasn’t mad this time. Looked like he’d struggled plenty since Serath left.
I patted his shoulder to ease his guilt.
"I’m fine, Wagner. Yeah, I’m your guide. Call me Raggedfoot."
"Raggedfoot? Odd name. Anyone else know this guy?"
Hard to trust a barbarian who’d raised his axe after three seconds of meeting, huh. The knight Alex asked the Northern Defense soldiers about me. Their faces rang bells. They’d known me as deeply as Wagner. As enemies, of course.
"R-Red...!"
I locked eyes with one soldier. Flashed him a grin.
"Huh? What’d you say?"
"N-Not the Red Ghost. It’s Raggedfoot. Definitely not the Red Ghost. Raggedfoot. Not the Red Ghost..."
Good of them to cooperate. Just like that, I joined the Imperial group as their guide. Sweet deal. No effort, straight to the tower.
"Sorry about that, Iva... ahem, Raggedfoot. Orders from above to cooperate with them until the northern investigation ends."
As Alex returned to the lead, Wagner spoke softly, looking apologetic. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
"No need to apologize. I don’t touch a brother’s prey."
"Prey?"
"Yeah."
I recognized Wagner as a warrior for enduring my words. So he’d be the one to discipline this Alex punk.
This was the north. 9th Legion territory. Act arrogant in another’s home, and you’d pay dearly. He didn’t have the skill to strut anyway.
Apparently, they were a knight order sent by the Minister of Justice to investigate the black dragon’s rampage. Overall level lower than the Northern Defense Army, but one outlier mixed in.
I pointed to the woman at the rear. The arrow shooter.
"By the way, who’s that lady?"
"Rubia Steelore. Daughter of the Minister of Justice, and like Lady Serath, a unique magic path user."
"Hm..."
I see. That’s why she spotted and attacked me. Hiding wasn’t my forte, but still a good distance.
Daughter of the Minister, so like Serath said, here for the Royal Consort business? Didn’t react much to me, though. Even after trying to kill me. Like she had no emotions.
Her society nickname was... Iron Flower, right? Staring hard, Wagner pleaded uneasily.
"Raggedfoot."
"Yeah?"
"Please don’t wipe out the knight order and kidnap the Minister’s daughter. If that happens, we’d have to turn spears on you again."
That’s what he thought? How tragic.
Well, Wagner wouldn’t know how much I’d mingled with merchants to boost northern trade lately.
"Don’t worry. On my name, I won’t take a thing from them."
"Thanks."
As he left relieved to hush his men, two horses approached. Rubia and her attached maid.
Rubia, staring blankly, abruptly held out her hand.
"Give it back. The arrow."
"This?"
I pulled out the black arrow that had ricocheted off my axe. Even as a magic tool, its mana circuits were etched as densely as human flesh.
The arrow writhed on its own, though not nocked. Like it had a mind.
"Not just a disposable, huh?"
"I made it. Combined vigilance, caution, and preparation..."
"Miss, no need to explain family secrets to a barbarian like him."
"Got it, Nerissa."
I knew without explanation. In the original story, her unique magic extracted her emotions to forge weapons. The weapons thought and acted independently.
Similar to Kara. Kara commanded magical beasts; she commanded armaments. Difference: hers came from her own emotions, so while out, she couldn’t feel them. Severely, she became doll-like.
Swords, hammers, shields, chains... Over ten armaments at a glance. So she wouldn’t fall for flatterers’ sweet talk.
"Here."
I handed the arrow back without fuss. But as Rubia reached for her weapon—
Thwack—!
"...!!"
The floating arrow smacked her hand away. Then, boldly, it slipped into my pouch.
A new emotion bloomed in her ink-black pupils. Bewilderment.
...Looks like she prefers me more.