Chapter 69
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 69
Chapter Title: The Personal Request
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The meal ended in a warm atmosphere.
After the seats cleared, Abel didn't head straight back to his room. Instead, he waited in a nearby chamber off the dining hall.
It wasn't long before the door opened, and a familiar face stepped inside.
“You kept me waiting.”
It was Scarlett.
Abel rose from his seat to reply.
“Not at all.”
“Of course you did. The discussion dragged on longer than I expected. Take a seat first.”
“Yes.”
Scarlett dove right in the moment she sat across from him.
“They took a real liking to you.”
“You mean me?”
“That's right. The Blaine family has always revered martial prowess above all. Any exceptional warrior earns respect, no matter their background. That's their ethos.”
“I see.”
Scarlett grinned at Abel's even-toned response and pressed on.
“Totally different from me, of course. I backed you because I figured it'd pay off big.”
“I'm always grateful for the opportunities you've given me, Lady Scarlett.”
“That wasn't meant to fish for thanks. Now, what was it I wanted to say...”
Scarlett tilted her head for a moment, then snapped back to it.
“Ah! They want you to join in if there are more of these gatherings down the line. What do you say? It won't be frequent. Once a year, usually. Twice at most.”
“It would be an unmatched opportunity for me. I'll gladly accept.”
“Good. Growing through exchanges with others is just as vital as solo training. That's the whole reason Del Modor Academy was founded, after all.”
“I'm learning plenty at the academy, even beyond the lectures.”
“Fine cadet you are. Excellent mindset.”
Scarlett nodded approvingly, then finally broached the main topic.
“Now, let's discuss your reward for this. Anything specific you want?”
“Something I want?”
Abel hesitated at her question.
Until now, Scarlett's rewards had always been one-sided gifts. This was the first time she'd asked what he desired.
“Exactly. You've got the basics covered by now. If there's something particular on your mind, I'll make it happen.”
“Then...”
Abel racked his brain in an instant.
He was caught off guard for a second, but settling on an answer wasn't difficult.
He'd already ranked his needs by priority long ago.
That let him voice the most fitting reward.
“Please procure one person for me.”
“A person?”
Scarlett's eyes went wide at the unforeseen demand.
“Yes. A former mercenary. He's likely still in the capital.”
“Hmm. And what's he to you?”
Scarlett narrowed her eyes as she asked.
“Nothing major. Just something I heard secondhand from someone who taught me a few moves back in the day.”
“So no direct connection, then?”
“Correct.”
“That only makes me more curious.”
“I want to learn swordsmanship from him.”
Her expression turned even more peculiar at his reply.
“I'm not overly biased against mercenaries, but is there a compelling reason it has to be him?”
It was a fair question.
Abel was affiliated with the renowned Del Modor Academy.
It naturally offered swordsmanship courses, and even outside classes, skilled swordsmen abounded.
The academy wasn't the only place, either.
Klein Countess's knights included more than a few masters of the blade.
Requesting to study under some ex-mercenary out of the blue was bound to raise eyebrows.
Abel had his prepared response ready for the doubt.
“It's not that I absolutely have to learn from him.”
“Then?”
“The sword instructor of the man who taught me those moves? That's the mercenary in question.”
“Oh-ho. So, your master's master.”
“Precisely. I've wanted a chance to meet him someday.”
Scarlett nodded at that.
“Fair enough. You don't always need some grand justification to meet someone. Still, it feels a bit light as a reward.”
“I'm content with...”
“No. I'm not satisfied. There's something far more fitting for the occasion.”
Cutting him off mid-sentence, Scarlett pulled a pouch from her bosom and set it on the table.
Clink.
It looked hefty even at a glance, and the unmistakable chime of metal on metal rang out as it landed.
“I'll throw this in too.”
“That feels overly generous.”
“Nonsense. Haven't I said it before?”
Scarlett's lips curved upward as she continued.
“It's all an investment. Might as well feel the weight of it. Then deliver results that exceed expectations.”
“......Understood. I won't give you any cause for disappointment going forward.”
“Perfect. That settles it.”
The conversation wrapped up there.
Scarlett probed for more details on the man he sought, then promised to track him down as swiftly as possible.
“Head back well in the morning, then. See you at the academy.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Abel offered a parting bow and took his leave.
Once back in his room, he checked the pouch's contents—and his jaw dropped.
‘Dodged a bullet turning that down.’
The sum was beyond imagination.
‘More than enough to cover commissions now.’
It lifted one weight off his mind.
A favor he couldn't ask Scarlett: investigating the United Kingdom's internal affairs.
* * *
The next day.
Abel rose early and boarded the prepared carriage bound for the academy.
On the way, he made a request of Dale, who was riding along.
“Could we make a quick stop somewhere en route?”
“Where to, sir?”
“Near Caldean Plaza.”
Caldean Plaza wasn't on the direct path, but it wasn't far off, either.
“That should be manageable.”
“Thank you.”
Dale accepted readily, to Abel's relief.
The carriage departed the mansion and veered toward Caldean Plaza, arriving soon enough.
“Come with me.”
“Understood.”
Abel stepped down with Dale and headed to a street of stalls not far from the plaza.
True to its name, the vendor row was lined with modest booths hawking simple foods and sundries.
Abel made for one tucked slightly away from the rest.
It sold trinkets suited for women, and he pretended to browse while slipping a hidden paper from his sleeve.
“How much for this?”
“Hm?”
The stall's proprietor was a white-haired old man. He leaned forward as if hard of hearing.
Swish.
In that instant, the paper in Abel's hand vanished into the old man's sleeve.
Abel carried on as if nothing happened.
“This accessory. It looks decent.”
“Ah, that one? Let me see...”
The old man pondered briefly, then held up five fingers.
“This much?”
“Got it.”
Five fingers.
Meaning contact in five days.
Abel nodded, fished five coins from his pouch, and handed them over.
The old man pocketed them, passed over the trinket, and that concluded the exchange.
“Now, let's head back.”
Abel straightened up and addressed Dillon.
Dillon nodded impassively.
“Very well.”
He seemed none the wiser.
‘Not that it matters if he catches on.’
Unless he tried to stop him, it was inconsequential either way.
Abel was confident he could talk his way out of any suspicion.
And ‘that side’ wouldn't leave amateurish trails, anyway.
With that lighthearted thought, Abel returned to the carriage, which soon sped off toward the academy.
Clearing the bustling streets took no time at all.
The carriage passed through the academy's main gate and halted at the designated spot.
“We've arrived.”
At the coachman's call, Abel alighted with Dillon.
“Safe travels, then.”
“Yes. Until next time.”
Abel bowed politely, then set off toward the dorms, musing to himself.
‘Back after just a day, and it feels strange.’
Back on Earth, trudging to school daily had been pure torment. But this academy was different.
Comfortable, like coming home.
It made sense, really.
The academy was the first place to give him a true sense of belonging.
‘Before that, I'd always felt adrift.’
To be fair, he hadn't been entirely without groups pre-enrollment.
Vulcanus's workshop, the underground fights. Even wandering the streets, he'd run with beggar packs.
But none had instilled belonging.
He'd always felt detached.
Probably because he was always ready to bolt at a moment's notice.
This place was different.
It held the key to the ‘return’ he'd been pondering: Del Modor Academy.
“Abel!”
Lost in thought with his head down, Abel looked up at the familiar voice.
Hena was approaching, waving.
Only then did he realize he'd reached the dorms.
“How'd it go? Everything alright?”
“Yeah. Wrapped up fine.”
He'd outlined things when postponing training, so she smiled and nodded.
“Training tonight, right? Rest another day if you're beat.”
“No way. Training's non-negotiable.”
“R-Right? Got it.”
Resuming toward the dorms, Abel asked,
“Nothing much happen?”
“Not really... Oh, my father wants to meet you sometime.”
“Hm?”
Abel halted dead at her words.
Her father meant none other than Duke Del Kior.
Abel had met him once before, one-on-one.
“Nothing serious. He mentioned popping by to see me and figured he'd say hi while at it?”
“When's he coming?”
“Next weekend.”
Abel nodded.
If it were today, he'd be on edge. But next week gave him breathing room.
A week to mull what the duke wanted.
‘Plenty to chew on.’
Nothing new there.
Peaceful days had been rare since arriving here.
Pressing issues alone: Hena's instability, commissions, finding the person he'd asked the countess for, United Kingdom matters, and more.
Too many to count on one hand.
‘Though fretting won't yield clear fixes.’
Abel tamped down his sinking mood and said,
“See you this evening, then.”
“Got it! Catch you later!”
Hena waved cheerily and headed off.
Abel watched her go, then entered the dorm building.
He still had much to do today.