Chapter 120
Chapter 120
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Hero Slayer
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Palag had a habit of reviewing his memories whenever his thought process hit a wall.
To pick up on any overlooked factors and arrive at a more rational conclusion.
For the same reason, Palag now began reviewing his memories.
Where to start?
Right. Since he couldn't even gauge it, he'd start from the very beginning.
Step by step.
'Arrived at the meeting place, and there was already a hostile atmosphere toward Rishir...'
'When Dray acted friendly toward Rishir, the mood flipped right around...'
'That Corsia guy got cold feet preemptively and confessed that the Third Arm crime syndicate had ordered him to harm Rishir, so Dray and I said we'd handle it...'
'The rest of the meeting went off without a hitch...'
'Once we confirmed Rishir had made the right connections with the other attendees, we took him and changed venues...'
'When it was just the three of us left, I brought it up first to Rishir—'
'Asking what he wanted as a reward for his victory in our previous spar...'
'What Rishir asked for was insight into Materialization...'
Palag demonstrated a stream of mana that contained nothing more and nothing less than the essence of Materialization.
To make Rishir thirst for more.
To make him crave greater knowledge and eye the position once held by Moria.
But then, out of nowhere, his mana surged.
His mana, which had lingered in the mid-6th Circle, suddenly shattered its barriers and reached the 7th Circle.
Palag was at a loss for where to even begin questioning this.
Insight into a mere 'lump of Materialization' that hadn't even taken proper magical form, and suddenly he could wield its essence with mastery?
A meteoric rise in mana that seemed to deny the very existence of the 7th Circle wall—one that countless people couldn't surpass in a lifetime?
Or—
"No need to be surprised! I was just recreating the mana surge that happened to Moria during our spar!"
That sentence that refused comprehension altogether?
"Urgh...!!!"
This was bad.
Reviewing his memories hadn't cleared up the questions—instead, they'd only deepened.
The confusion was so intense that he might even suffer mana backlash if he wasn't careful.
So what should he do?
As one who pursued the principles of magic, how was he supposed to accept this being that mercilessly trampled those principles?
"...Right! You could be like that!"
The grand magus reached his own conclusion.
To perceive the man before him not as a fellow mage, but as a separate entity altogether.
He was Rishir.
So of course he could house a mighty being in his inner world, wield sword and magic in tandem, and leap across Circles at will.
No. Even so, that's hardly plausible—
The grand magus smacked down the insolent voice of reason trying to butt in.
All the various Rishirs that had lately cluttered his mind suddenly cleared away.
The satisfaction was comparable to gaining magical enlightenment.
Palag felt a twinge of self-loathing at himself for deriving such profound fulfillment from an insight like 'Heh heh, oh, so that's it—it's because he's Rishir.'
"Lord Palag, what do you mean by that! 'You could be like that'? Please, explain it so I can understand too—"
"What explanation? How do you explain something like that? Just accept it. Makes life easier."
"Ah."
And with that, the grand noble nodded in understanding as well.
It was the sort of scene that any braided-haired elder from some magic tower would look upon with delight from his juniors.
"Huff... huff...!"
At that moment, another change swept over Rishir's body.
His mana, which had just stepped into the 7th Circle realm, regressed back to the 6th Circle.
The ability to temporarily elevate his rank, no less.
In normal circumstances, the talent scout and grand magus's eyes would have bulged.
"Heh heh."
"Whoa."
But the two men, having gained their precious insight, could now appreciate the rare sight with calm minds.
What good would bulging eyes do?
Analyze it? Try to imitate it?
How?
"Hoo... hoo..."
Even amid this, they noticed Rishir employing Blue Breathing.
Judging purely by the purity of his breathing, one could easily mistake him for a pure 6th Circle swordsman.
And he was wielding that advanced Blue Breathing alongside Materialization mastery.
No amount of analysis or imitation would make something like that possible.
Finally, Rishir finished regulating his breathing.
"Cough!"
Blood sprayed from every orifice on his face.
"Whoa there."
"Rishir, you okay?"
"Ah, yeah. Happens sometimes. I thought I'd gotten better, but I guess that last push was too much."
"You're fine, you're fine. If not now in your youth, when will you push yourself? That's how you grow at that age."
"Oh, so Lord Palag went through overloads like this often too?"
"Hahaha, nonsense. Do you think overload is like a hangover? You're the only one who treats it that way. Still, somehow your body's held up fine despite all those overloads."
"Part of it's from tempering my body with swordsmanship, and sometimes my mana spikes erratically—that helps a lot too."
"Haha, 'erratic mana spikes now and then.' Lucky you. Good thing that happened to you."
"Hahaha, I agree."
"Hahaha, mana spikes mean elixirs, right? Like when you take one?"
"Pardon?"
"Hahaha! Look at Lord Palag's face! Like you're asking the most obvious question!"
"Hahaha! Yeah, that was a dumb question on your part!"
"So Rishir wouldn't even glance at the elixirs every mage covets?"
"Hahaha, of course he would. Elixirs are great if you've got 'em."
"'Great if you've got 'em,' haha, funny way to put it. Right, Lord Palag?"
"Heh heh heh, sure is. Quite amusing."
"..."
The bespectacled young woman standing in the corner of the room.
Dray's secretary and bodyguard, Maisie, watched their otherworldly conversation with a look of utter resignation.
"Alright then—"
Having enjoyed(?) a good laugh and chat, Palag and Dray refreshed the mood.
Before meeting Rishir today, they had vowed to pull out all the stops to make him one of their own.
They'd changed their minds.
They decided to give up on Rishir.
Their interest and fascination with him remained—nay, had only grown—but...
Can we even handle that?
That thought refused to leave their heads.
Dray and Palag were men who stood above others.
The type who only felt satisfied handling people firmly under their control.
They considered it.
Rishir.
Could they keep him firmly under their control?
The conclusion came before the deliberation even began.
The sensation of his own intelligence dropping in real time during their conversation was still fresh.
And so, they shifted their policy.
Now, their goal was simply to leave a good impression on that inscrutable being and build a positive relationship.
The grand magus and grand noble, who always left those around them on edge.
Rarely did they find themselves in the opposite position.
They had no clue how to get close to that inscrutable entity.
But lo and behold.
As they cautiously conversed, his personality turned out to be utterly ordinary—unlike his inscrutable abilities.
In the best way possible.
Not overly tense in the presence of a grand noble and grand magus, yet impeccable in etiquette.
A maturity rare among young nobles his age.
The two quickly took a liking to Rishir himself.
Natural smiles appeared on their faces as they spoke with him.
Dray's secretary, Maisie, who had been watching their exchange, felt no small surprise.
Dray and Palag.
From anyone else's perspective, they were walking disasters.
They always appraised people like objects.
And their standards were impossibly stringent.
They embodied the viewpoints and mindset befitting their stations.
For such men to show genuine fondness.
Even if backed by his abilities, it was exceedingly rare.
'Rishir...'
His presence etched itself sharply into their minds, in various senses.
Amid this, Dangallion cleared his throat with a 'hem' and bellowed.
-Like insects drawn to light, they're ensnared by Chuinni's radiant halo and can't escape!!! I, Dangallion, who yearns to become a great blaze like Rishir!!! I can only feel awe!!!
Rishir was experiencing a similar flustered non-fluster.
He never imagined he'd win this level of favor from a grand noble and grand magus.
'Maybe the real reward wasn't that meeting—it was what I got in this room.'
The warm atmosphere persisted until the gathering ended.
"Rishir, I'll be staying here at the Gus estate for a while longer, so let's meet often. If you need anything, just say the word."
"Same here—though this wasn't in my plans, I've suddenly taken an interest in this city of Bondalles. Come find me if you crave more instruction. But next time, be prepared to at least join our school."
Rishir returned to his room after parting with them, a satisfied smile on his face.
Not content with perfecting his 'Enhancement' ability, he'd even forged ties with these 'grand'-titled heavyweights.
An enormous haul.
As expected of the merchant lord's estate, where all sorts of guests lodged and swapped every kind of tale.
Word of me and those two powerhouses spread like wildfire—now it seemed everyone knew.
"Sir Rishir, Lady Philana has arranged a dinner tonight. Would you grace us with your presence? If you would—"
'Sir?'
Whenever he was alone in his room, people kept knocking, inviting him somewhere—
"Ah, Sir Rishir!"
"Care to join us? We were just talking about you."
'What's with all the "sir"?'
Strolling the estate, every person he passed recognized him and struck up conversation.
Unexpected.
"Klana?"
I can feel you getting excited. I thought you weren't into this stuff.
As Klana said, Rishir was indeed a bit thrilled.
"Bastard born though I may be, I've harbored some fantasies about noble treatment like this."
...You're a bastard?
"You didn't know?"
Your looks, your actions—everything screams high noble lineage.
"Ah, my family does barely scrape into high noble status. Bottom rung, though."
No, that's not what I—... Anyway, unexpected.
You hunk of metal bitch!!! To so vulgarly twist our noble Chuinni's words of grace and elegance—that's your limit!
"Whoa, whoa. No fighting. Not on a day like this."
When Fienne had told him Bondalles planned to grant him an official title, one worry suddenly surfaced.
Can a rootless bastard like me maintain the dignity befitting a proper position in a massive city like Bondalles?
His prowess in magic and swordsmanship was advancing steadily, and his connections were growing smoothly—but
he was still a bastard without real power or wealth.
In that sense,
the current situation—where the merchant lord's esteemed guests addressed him as "sir" and treated him accordingly—held great meaning.
It felt like his influence and power had finally taken solid form.
Nice going, Rishir. You made it this far.
Back when he was a despised bastard biding his time to escape the estate.
When he fretted over immediate lodging in Bondalles.
All those moments were as vivid as yesterday—
and the emotions welled up fresh.
Savoring that buoyant mood during his garden stroll, someone approached waving.
"Hey, Sir Rishir."
"You're—"
A woman with a swaggering gait that flaunted the sword at her hip left a strong impression.
Brienne.
Fienne had said she was a famed 7th Circle swordsman from the continent's heartlands.
'A 7th Circle swordsman...'
His interest piqued.
Come to think of it, he'd never crossed paths with a 7th Circle swordsman before.
Perhaps because he'd just witnessed an 8th Circle mage's 7th Circle spell and gained major insight.
He couldn't shake the urge to appraise her sword.
"Out for a stroll?"
"Feel free to call me Rishir casually. I'll do the same—Brienne."
"Ah-ha~ How could I? Friend of the Frozen Breath and the talent scout."
Brienne said as much, but she let out her signature laugh and playfully nudged his arm.
Her gaze drifted to his waist.
"You always carry a sword, huh?"
"Pardon? Ah, yeah. Gotta keep up appearances as a mage, right?"
"Ah-ha~ 'Appearances as a mage,' he says. First time I've seen such a vicious 'single strike' in my life."
"Haha, high praise from a master swordswoman like you. I'm honored."
"Honored? You really mean that?"
"Of course."
"Oho~ Then how about this? Hang on a sec."
Brienne.
She stepped away briefly and returned with two swords in hand.
She handed one to him and said,
"Honored opportunity—whaddya say?"
"Pardon?"
"Spar with me."
"Oh..."
A windfall from clear skies.
He'd been itching for a chance to appraise a 7th Circle sword, and here the woman herself proposed a duel.
He took the sword without hesitation.
"Ah-ha~ Straightforward—I like it. No wonder those two are smitten."
Brienne drew her sword amid her roguish laughter.
Thus, a miraculous duel born of coinciding whims was about to begin.
"Lord Rishir, there you are."
A familiar businesslike voice halted him.
Dray's bespectacled secretary and guard knight—
was gazing at him from nearby.
"Miss Maisie? What brings you here?"
"Maisie is fine."
"This has a nice rhythm to it—gets me pumped, you know?"
"..."
"Ah, sorry if that offended you."
"Not at all. Don't mind it—call me whatever's comfortable."
Maisie adjusted her glasses and continued.
"Lord Rishir, Lord Dray requests a meeting."
"Right now?"
"Yes."
"Aw..."
To forfeit a chance to appraise a 7th Circle sword.
What a bolt from the blue.
But he couldn't very well refuse a grand noble's summons.
Especially since the man wouldn't call without reason.
There was sure to be some hefty reward waiting.
Regretfully, he turned to Brienne.
"Brienne, sorry. Looks like the duel will have to wait."
Brienne shrugged, raising both hands.
Her reaction was playful, but she looked as disappointed as he felt.
"Too bad. I really wanted another look at that vicious strike."
She even seemed slightly miffed as she promptly turned and left.
Arriving at a guest room in the estate with Maisie.
Dray, seated across from someone, welcomed him.
"Ah! There you are. Let me introduce you—this is Rishir, a new friend I made."
The woman facing Dray stood rather than sat.
As if that were more comfortable.
'The armor?'
Her gaze followed Dray's gesture to Rishir.
'Compared to her, even Maisie seems lively.'
She exuded such a cold, detached air.
Dray's introduction continued.
"Rishir, this is Tua Ye Duvillan. Second daughter of the Duvillan family and captain of the Duvillan Knights' Special Forces."
"..."
The "Ye" in her name signified the highest noble bloodline.
Second daughter of a grand noble house.
And captain of their knight order's elite unit, no less.
Her aura set her apart—another heavyweight.
"Tua of the Duvillan family."
"Ah, Rishir here. Pleased to meet you."
That was the extent of their exchange.
Tua turned her gaze back to Dray.
"So, what is it? Why introduce this kid to me all of a sudden?"
"I told you—I know a friend with extraordinary abilities. Who knows? He might be able to help you right now."
"Help?"
Dray answered Rishir's reflexive question immediately.
"Tua's hunting some guy who slipped into Bondalles—and he's not the type you catch with ordinary methods."
"What kind of guy?"
"Hero slayer."
"...Pardon?"
"Murderer of a hero candidate who owned five of the First Hero's six holy swords."
Swept into this massive-scale talk out of nowhere, Rishir pressed on despite his daze.
"Someone who pulled off something that huge would've had their face and name plastered everywhere. He's hiding well."
"That's the problem."
"Pardon?"
"His face and name. He can change them at will. Ever heard of the Face Stealer?"
"First time."
Tua took over the explanation.
"Former master of an assassin guild. He can steal not just faces and voices, but skills too. Reports say he once mimicked a 7th Circle swordsman's appearance, voice, and signature swordsmanship on the spot."
"O-on the spot? Copied a 7th Circle swordsman's signature techniques perfectly? Is that even possible?"
"Impossible, and shouldn't be possible. Yet he has the ability to make it so."
"Whoa..."
Rishir couldn't hide his shock at Tua's words.
Tua nodded at his reaction, then addressed Dray.
"Dray. As I said, this involves the Face Stealer. We can't drag a young mage into it."
"..."
"What's with that look? Did I say something wrong?"
"No, it's not that—"
Dray stared at Rishir, his expression strained.
"Rishir, why are you so shocked?"
"?"
"?"
At Dray's behavior, Rishir and Tua both voiced their puzzlement in unison.