Chapter 82
Chapter 82
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 82
Chapter Title: A Calculated Risk
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I narrowed my eyes and began to draw upon my internal energy.
As if sensing my presence, Asad spoke with an ambiguous expression.
“Let me tell you this upfront, I’m not a member of the cult.”
“I know.”
“For the record, that had a double meaning. I’m also an atheist, you see.”
…Leave it to an old man to make such a corny joke.
One of my strengths was my ability to play along with such unfunny humor, but this was not the time for it.
“You’ve received several blessings yourself, haven’t you, Lord Asad?”
“That I have.”
“And yet you don’t believe in gods?”
Asad smirked and replied.
“The beings I consider ‘gods’ are of a much higher order. The seventy-two gods are powerful, but they have too many limitations. By my standards, they don’t make the cut.”
Listening to Asad’s blasphemous words, I was somehow reminded of what the Martial God had said.
The story about the ‘forgotten god.’
What else did the Martial God say then?
“The Absolute God.”
“Hmm?”
For the first time, a flicker of surprise crossed Asad’s eyes.
“Where did you hear that word?”
“Pardon?”
“The term ‘Absolute God’.”
I couldn’t reveal what the Martial God had told me—something I’d even hidden from the Iron-Blooded Duke—so I feigned ignorance.
“I think I saw it in a book somewhere…”
“A lie. No literature recording that term exists in the empire.”
He spoke as if he’d read every book in the empire.
Of course, having lived for 300 years, he would have read far more books than an ordinary person…
“It seems you have no intention of telling me. Hmm. For now, that might be interesting in itself…”
Surprisingly, Asad didn’t press further.
Instead, his face lit up like he’d found a fun new toy, and he chuckled to himself.
‘I feel like I’m getting strangely drawn into his pace.’
My personality wasn’t one to be pushed around, but this man’s attitude and way of speaking were exceptionally peculiar.
If I didn’t keep my wits about me, I could get dragged along until this conversation ended on his terms.
“We were talking about the Demon King’s advent, weren’t we? The reason I know the plan is simple. The Bednickers saw through the rats’ scheme long ago.”
I blinked and asked.
“…So you’re saying you already knew there was a traitor in the family, and that they were planning some kind of scheme during the training retreat?”
“Precisely.”
My head was spinning.
I asked in a bewildered voice.
“If you knew, why did you just stand by and watch? Did you not realize things would escalate this far?”
“I do not, under any circumstances, intervene in the family’s internal disputes. This is a pact made in ancient times, one I can never break.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Hmm.”
Asad looked at me and said in a languid tone.
“You look sharp, but your head is slow.”
“…”
It had been a while since someone called me stupid.
“It’s simple. Two opposing opinions clashed within the family over this matter.”
“…”
“‘Is there room for disagreement when it comes to rooting out a traitor in the family?’ That’s the look on your face.”
“Yes.”
“For an ordinary family, that would be the case. But this is the Bednicker family. Our way of thinking is different from that of ordinary people.”
Asad held up a single finger on each hand, setting them against each other as if in a finger war.
“First, one side presented a very common-sense opinion, much like yours. They realized there was a traitor, learned of the plan, and proposed immediate extermination. At first, most agreed with that opinion. Until someone offered a counterargument.”
Asad wiggled his right finger like a worm.
“‘Isn’t this, in fact, an opportunity?’”
“An opportunity?”
“We realized there was a traitor. We even found out what kind of scheme they were planning for the retreat. However, we couldn’t identify exactly who it was. We only learned of their plan in the process of dealing with some small fry.”
“…”
“Certainly, stopping the retreat would have ended things peacefully. But that would also mean letting a huge opportunity slip away.”
Asad looked at me and said.
“Do you know the three elements required for the advent of the Demon King?”
“No.”
“I thought not.”
“…”
This is why I hate mages.
The funny thing was, for a mage, he was one of the more tolerable ones.
In any case, Asad explained, raising his fingers one by one.
“First, a sacrifice. Second, a land brimming with mana. In truth, these two conditions aren’t that difficult to meet. The truly important part is the final element.”
Asad’s expression changed.
The languid air he’d shown until now vanished, replaced by a cold cynicism.
“A being who has mastered the ancient demonic language, can communicate directly with the Demon King, and can preside over the ritual.”
I had a feeling I knew who Asad was talking about.
“…The High Priest.”
“Oh.”
Asad looked at me with surprised eyes, then grinned.
“I take back what I said earlier. You’re not that stupid after all.”
“…”
“Yes. The High Priest. The core of the Dark Cult and the arch-enemy of the Great Families.”
Now I understood the opposition’s line of thinking.
I asked, dumbfounded.
“So… the higher-ups in the family let this happen just to catch a High Priest?”
“That’s about the gist of it.”
“And they hid this fact from the Young Lords who would be caught up in it and killed?”
“The last time a High Priest was killed was six years ago. Of course, that’s just going by official records.”
What was this man trying to say now?
“Do you know how many heroes died then?”
“I do not.”
“Ninety-six. If you include the seriously injured, it’s more than double that.”
“…”
“Of course, it wasn’t one High Priest who killed them all. As I said, for the Dark Cult, a High Priest is an irreplaceable, high-value asset. They’ll stop at nothing to protect them. As a result, they usually hide in the cult’s most secret places and don’t even think of crawling out.”
Asad rested his chin on his hand.
“If we can kill that High Priest, then the lives of a few dozen Young Lords are a worthy sacrifice…”
“…”
“…is what the opposition must have thought.”
“Ha ha.”
Learning the truth of the matter made me laugh out loud.
“There was a kid named Palm at the retreat.”
“An interesting name.”
“I thought so too.”
I continued with a smile.
“He was a bit of a loudmouth, but he had such a cheerful nature that probably no one truly disliked him.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“That kid is dead.”
“…”
“I found his body in a cabin, and I don’t know what he went through just before he died, but his face was a mask of pure terror.”
Asad stared at me for a moment, then spoke.
“I too find the deaths of the Young Lords regrettable. But they must have been prepared to die at the retreat.”
Asad’s words made my blood boil.
“Prepared? Of course they were. But they were prepared to overcome the trials. Not to die a dog’s death as sacrificial lambs.”
“…”
“You say it takes a hundred heroes to kill one High Priest. So what are you trying to say? That sacrificing dozens of Young Lords to kill a High Priest is a good trade? Is that how you mages think?”
“Hmm.”
Asad scratched his cheek and said.
“It’s been decades since I met someone this rude. Quite refreshing. Did you perhaps receive a blessing of immortality or something of the sort?”
“Whether I have one life or dozens, the words coming out of my mouth wouldn’t be much different.”
“Meaning you’ve lost all sense of fear. But…”
Asad stroked his chin and said.
“I like it.”
Looking at the man who held the opposite view, I asked what might be the most important question.
“By any chance, was the Family Head the one who proposed this insane plan?”
I couldn’t know without asking.
The two things that symbolized the Iron-Blooded Duke.
Demon-slaying and familism.
That’s why I didn’t know.
This insane idea of turning a training retreat, in which two of his own sons were participating, into a stage for a Demon King summoning…
Whether that man would have approved or opposed it.
“No.”
Asad shook his head.
“Delac opposed this matter.”
“…And it was carried out anyway?”
“‘The Iron-Blooded Duke exists above the laws of the Bednicker family’—outsiders who don’t know the inner workings often say such things.”
Somehow, that sounded like a ‘no’.
“To give an extreme example, if I were to openly oppose Delac’s opinion right now, even he would have to reconsider.”
It was hard to deny that.
Asad, in his position as the family’s guardian, was in some ways a figure to be respected even more than the Family Head.
“You’re a special case, Lord Asad.”
At that, Asad burst out laughing.
“Kid, you know nothing about the Bednicker family. About the true power and secrets this family holds.”
“…”
“There’s nothing I can tell you right now. However, we have prepared a way to minimize the damage.”
“What way?”
“Luke Bednicker is among the instructors.”
Luke Bednicker.
He was the Iron-Blooded Duke’s younger brother and the captain of the Iron-Blooded Knights.
“…I don’t think I’ve seen him.”
“I personally cast an illusion spell. There’s no way a Young Lord could see through it.”
“Hmm…”
“There is one other safety measure, but… there’s no point in telling you about it now.”
I hated this kind of conversation, so I pressed him.
“Just tell me.”
Asad narrowed his eyes and said.
“Come to think of it, it’s not entirely unrelated to you.”
“Pardon?”
“The Sword Master Teacher is on standby outside the barrier.”
“Kaljak is…”
That was unexpectedly welcome news.
“Is Kaljak safe? When did he arrive at the estate?”
“He’s perfectly fine, excessively so. It’s been about a week since he arrived. But there’s a bit of a problem.”
“A problem?”
“Yes. I ordered him to be deployed to the camp immediately upon his return, but strangely, there’s been no word from him yet.”
“…”
“I don’t think he’s dead, but it’s clear something has happened, so it will be difficult to expect his help right away.”
He was right.
Of course, if he could join us, he’d be a huge help, but given the circumstances, I didn’t have the luxury of searching for him.
“Do you have any more questions?”
“…”
As my head cooled a little, I realized something surprising.
Asad was, unexpectedly, answering my questions with great sincerity.
Given his position and power, he could have just ignored everything.
Was this his way of showing guilt?
“…So when are you planning to deal with this High Priest?”
“Well, that depends on the High Priest’s actions. Do you happen to know the stages of the Demon King summoning ritual?”
I nodded, having heard about it from Hector.
“I don’t know the timing, but it will be just before or just after it enters the fourth stage. Around then, the High Priest will have no choice but to reveal himself…”
“It seems you still don’t know who the High Priest is.”
“There’s a high probability it’s one of the instructors, but we can’t rule out the possibility of it being a Young Lord. So, Luke won’t make a move until the bastard fully reveals himself.”
Asad wore a bothered expression.
“Do you know why these High Priests are so hard to catch? They have spare lives, and just when you think you’ve caught one, it turns out to be a puppet. But the decisive reason is the evasion technique they possess.”
“An evasion technique?”
“A technique called the Phantom Path.”
“The Return Path?”
“No. The Phantom Path.”
Asad corrected me and continued.
“It’s a technique unique to High Priests that allows them to escape in an instant with almost no delay. It’s a power far superior to a typical teleport. Once activated, even I can’t track them.”
Asad said.
“To be precise… I *can* track them, but doing so would mean my death. The place they flee to isn’t this continent, but the world of demons.”
“…Hmm.”
“Anyway, let’s wrap up the question time. It’s about time I got to the main point.”
The main point?
“Ruan Bednicker, normally I had no intention of interfering with whatever happens at the retreat… but you seem like an interesting kid, so this is a special service.”
Asad stood up from his seat.
He waved his hand, and a door materialized in the previously featureless room.
*Creeak—.*
The door opened.
Beyond it, the Bednicker main estate was visible.
A magnificent structure, showing off its elegant form under the warm morning sun.
“I will get you out of there.”
“Really?”
“A mage never lies.”
That itself sounded like a lie.
Regardless, I let out a sigh of relief.
“Thank you for your kindness. Then I’ll go back, gather as many of the other Young Lords as I can, and then use the ring again—.”
“Ah. You can’t do that.”
“Pardon?”
“If that many Young Lords disappear, the High Priest might notice.”
“Does that mean…”
“The only one I can get out of there is you.”
Asad propped his chin on his hand and asked me.
“What will you do?”