Chapter 111
Chapter 111
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Rose-Tinted Glasses (4)
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"...Ahem."
Palrag, the former Magic Tower Lord who had been spinning his tale with great relish, let out an awkward cough.
It was the part where the audience was supposed to gasp in admiration, but their reactions were lukewarm.
Palrag chalked it up to his own shortcomings.
He'd beaten around the bush too much, he thought.
Come to think of it, their muted responses made sense.
-Then, in a certain village, I met a girl. She was already a third-tier swordsman who had mastered Blue Breathing.
Who could hear that and immediately conclude, 'A third-tier swordsman who had already mastered Blue Breathing overturned her innate constitution with her heavenly talent and achieved magical prowess!'?
'Why suddenly bring up a swordsman? Is he senile? At that age where he loves to chatter?' That would be the normal reaction.
Just like theirs right now.
In that sense, he truly lived up to the reputation of the Mastien Family's talent scout.
Drei.
Only he recognized 'her' true value and showed his astonishment.
Thus, Palrag's nearly shattered spirits were barely revived.
No. Even if the flow was broken, his excitement had only grown stronger.
After all, boasting is most satisfying when done to someone who truly appreciates its worth.
"..."
Glance after glance.
Drei's eyes, gleaming with interest, repeatedly turned toward Moria, Palrag's disciple.
-Damn. Where the hell did he find her?
That kind of reaction perfectly fueled Palrag's desire to brag.
Palrag broke the brief awkward silence and continued his story.
"Yes, yes, I get it. It must seem like this old mage set things up to talk about a new young mage he'd taken under his wing, only to suddenly bring up some random swordsman. But let me be clear: I have never strayed from the main topic."
Palrag looked at the woman standing beside him.
Her appearance was youthful, as if she had only just shed her girlish innocence.
Her abundant brown hair flowed with the luster of a thoroughbred foal's mane, and her brown eyes held a fierce glow, as if they could illuminate a dark cave.
"Moria."
Palrag called her name.
"Yes, Lord Palrag."
"I know it's an unreasonable request, but could you demonstrate it once? I'm being indulgent here, but I want to show you all off a bit in front of everyone."
"Unreasonable? Please don't say that. It's a request from you, Lord Palrag. I'll gladly do it."
Moria's response, brimming with youthful vigor yet composed, brought a smile to Palrag's face. She closed her eyes and focused her mind.
"Hoo..."
Every breath and movement of her chest bore traces of intense concentration.
Soon, veins bulged on her forehead, and beads of cold sweat formed, trickling down her smooth brow.
They didn't know.
How deeply she was concentrating right now.
Or rather, in what manner she was doing so.
She couldn't be too exceptional.
It might arouse suspicion.
But she couldn't be too clumsy either.
It wouldn't leave a strong impression.
Her focus was for control.
And that control was for deception.
Moria.
Right now, she was acting the part of a young genius blessed with innate talent.
Moria's breathing resonated with her mana.
The mana, neatly contained within the vessel of a mage, harmonized with her will and swirled around the target.
It was unmistakably a mage's breathing technique.
Then, the form of that breathing began to slowly change.
The mana swirling around the target now moved with a singular purpose.
Soon, that mana permeated the target's body.
Mana that assimilated with the body, not the will.
It was the swordsmen's breathing technique: Blue Breathing.
Between these two breathing methods lay a fundamental chasm.
Like the flight of a bird versus the gallop of a quadruped.
To traverse between them required not only a special constitution but also an unshakeable, intuitive sense impervious to external influences.
That was the significance embedded in Moria's demonstration.
Imitating a magic swordsman, an existence that defied reason.
The ultimate sense expressed through an act of extreme inefficiency.
It was a depth no one her age could possess.
There was only one way to describe that state far beyond the norm.
"Genius..."
The word from the talent scout carried extra weight.
His eyes gleamed with maximum intensity.
"..."
Moria flashed a bright smile toward Drei.
Even as the great noble expressed awe, her demeanor remained utterly composed.
The false youth and talent gained by forsaking 8th-circle realm.
Moria fully understood—and relished—that injustice.
"...!"
Innate talent and the confidence to fully comprehend it.
The great noble talent scout was, for a moment, overwhelmed by this young genius.
With a subtly daunted look, he said to Palrag,
"Did you teach her that, Duke Palrag?"
"As you know, such senses can't be taught or learned. It's a blessing only the innately gifted can enjoy."
"When you discovered her, she was already at that level?"
"Show her swordsmanship, and she'd replicate magic right away; teach her one thing, and she'd grasp ten."
"Had she received instruction from someone before?"
"She says she picked it up peeking at adventurers and mercenaries passing through the village."
At that moment, a bold voice interjected between them.
"That's right. I'm entirely self-taught."
"..."
"..."
I'm entirely.
Palrag and Drei's gazes turned to Moria at that loaded remark.
She was already looking somewhere else. Toward where Hainya Ye Mastien sat.
"Just like the lady."
The situation was clear.
One genius was showing rivalry toward another.
"I've heard the rumors about the lady. A genius mage born with unparalleled talent, right?"
Moria paused there, gauging Palrag's reaction.
He felt bewilderment at her sudden move, but that was all.
A pleasant smile spread across the former Magic Tower Lord's lips as he regarded the bold young genius mage.
It held anticipation: What will she show next?
The more she showed the former Blue Tower Lord,
the more he felt,
the higher the value of the 'genius' crafted by the high priestess.
Moria sensed it: one more time.
One more strong impression on the former Blue Tower Lord, and he'd retract his decision to step beyond the front lines.
To take her back to the Blue Tower.
Hainya Ye Mastien.
The mage already renowned across the continent for her genius was the ideal sacrificial lamb.
The high priestess planned to plunder Hainya's genius and fame to solidify 'Moria's' existence.
She flashed a provocative smile at Hainya.
"I hear that a lot too. A genius mage born with heavenly talent. So, what do you say? Here and now, shall we see who the true genius is?"
The old Hainya would have accepted without hesitation.
The arrogant genius mage could never tolerate someone surpassing her.
"See who the true genius is...?"
But the current Hainya merely mulled over the challenger's words with a dazed expression.
Moria took it as awe at her recent 'feat'.
Palrag and Drei thought similarly.
Having grasped how unjust and inexplicable the talent enabling it was.
"Wait—"
Her sister's uncharacteristically passive demeanor, unlike what he knew.
Drei felt unease and tried to defuse the situation.
"...Pfft."
That was when Hainya suddenly burst into laughter.
"See who the true genius is?"
She looked at Moria.
With eyes full of pity, as if regarding her past foolish self.
"..."
Moria, interpreting it as bravado, laughed as well.
This upstart bitch dares...
The high priestess feigning youth found the novice's arrogance infinitely grating.
As Moria opened her mouth to press Hainya—
Hainya's attention had already shifted from her.
"What do you think?"
Hainya asked the man sitting across from her—
Rishir.
Suddenly dragging in an irrelevant figure left question marks on the three faces.
"Hainya, suddenly involving Rishir here might put him in an awkward spot, no?"
Drei said with a wry smile.
A spontaneous move so very like Hainya brought a smile to his lips, but separately, he couldn't help pitying Rishir.
The former Tower Lord and the genius mage he acknowledged had their eyes alight.
Dragging an ordinary mage into that left him only able to despair at his own mediocrity.
Am I missing something?
Drei pondered again.
His perceptive sister couldn't possibly overlook that.
"What? You feel awkward?"
"Honestly, a bit. I don't think it's my place to chime in."
"God, stop with the needless humility. Listen to her. She's saying let's see who's the true genius, and you don't even find it funny?"
Besides, the Hainya he knew wouldn't seek others' opinions in such a situation.
Maybe Rishir had some special quality he hadn't noticed?
Drei recalled his first meeting with Rishir.
Back then, he'd gauged Rishir's realm by sensing his mana.
What he'd learned:
His current physical state was poor.
Both mana and body unstable from severe overload aftereffects, making precise realm assessment impossible.
Unable to clearly grasp his limits and suffering unsustainable overload.
Regardless of realm, that alone marked him inadequate.
Had he not been his sister's friend, Drei wouldn't have spared him a thought.
Thus, Drei's initial assessment of Rishir was poor.
"Lady, forgive me, but I don't understand. Why does his opinion matter here?"
"Miss Hainya, Moria is serious. So please, could you treat this a bit more earnestly?"
Moria and Palrag felt the same.
Having gauged Rishir's realm and reached Drei's conclusion, they couldn't fathom Hainya's actions.
"Really? Fine for her, but you too, brother, and Duke Palrag?"
Hainya was momentarily flustered by their reactions.
Then a mischievous smile played on her lips.
So that's how it is?
Those two as well with this guy—...
Soon, smiling, she said to Moria,
"Then let's do this. Spar with him first, before me."
"...You're serious?"
"Didn't you say let's see who's the true genius?"
The conversation's focus had skewed.
Frustrated, Moria snapped irritably,
"Am I overestimating you, lady? Can't you see his condition? He's suffering severe overload aftereffects. He's in no state for a spar."
"I know."
"Pardon?"
"?"
"?"
Her response, brazen beyond audacity, drew question marks on the three faces.
She knows and still?
Even Rishir was the same.
"Hainya, you know that and you're dumping the spar on me...?"
"Well, you'll figure something out, right?"
"Hainya, is the world that easy for you?"
"Don't want to hear that from you."
Rishir didn't know where to put himself amid Hainya's boundless trust(?).
"Hainya, listen—"
The moment he tried soothing her tantrum.
"...Huh?"
Rishir looked down at his body.
"Finally...!"
Lan and Morin.
And their master.
The three sighed in unison.
It was the fruit of labor after days of grueling work.
This very moment.
A city council motion regarding a certain man had passed by majority vote.
The series of events starting from the heretic purge was officially concluded.
"Ah... why does this keep happening..."
Rishir sighed, scratching the back of his head vigorously.
"What's wrong?"
Hainya looked at him with a playful grin.
Rishir let out a deep sigh and said,
"Let me make this clear. This wasn't my intention. Pure coincidence at the right time. Nothing more, nothing less. Don't take it for granted. Got it?"
"Yeah, yeah, sure."
"Ha... what a situation. No choice then. Fine, let's do it."
Hainya burst into laughter.
A laugh that seemed joyful yet somewhat hollow.
The three heavyweights and the saint wore similar expressions to Hainya.
"...?"
"...?"
"...?"
The three unable to follow looked as if possessed by evil spirits.
"Ah, one sec. Excuse me."
Still, what needed doing had to be done.
Feeling his head heat up, Rishir closed his eyes and focused his mind.
He began regulating his breathing.