Chapter 20
Chapter 20
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Master and Disciple
-----------------------------------------------------------------
A man in splendid attire stumbled down from the halted carriage.
He didn't even accept the services of the coachman and servants he'd hired at great expense. It was as if an irreplaceable opportunity lay right before him.
"Lady?"
With that, the man helped the girl down from inside the carriage.
Her plain attire bore no trace of wealth whatsoever, proclaiming its wearer's humble status.
The utter opposite of the man.
"We've arrived."
Yet the man's demeanor toward the girl was nothing short of reverent.
No. Utterly deferential.
"Thank you once again for your kindness."
"Not at all. I was just passing through here anyway. If there's anything else you need—"
"You've already helped more than enough."
"Come on, don't say that—"
He offered goodwill while stealing glances at the girl.
The man himself was baffled by his own behavior.
Why am I acting like this?
He wasn't the sort to show special kindness to children or those of lowly status.
As a merchant, he more often looked down on them.
But not with this girl.
She possessed an indescribable allure.
An irresistible allure.
It wasn't adult benevolence toward a child.
It was a frantic scramble for her favor.
"I wish you a wonderful day."
As the girl thanked him with a radiant smile, the man departed with palpable regret.
He lamented failing to win her favor, but dreaded her disdain even more.
Thus, the girl reached her destination, lavishly treated by a roadside stranger—
Fienne took in the house before her.
"...Hoo."
She drew in a deep breath and exhaled.
"Ah, ahh. Hm, hm."
She cleared her throat, then drew a mirror from her bosom to meticulously check her appearance.
Her awkward yet endearing demeanor made it hard to believe she was the same girl who had bewitched the merchant moments ago.
Knock knock.
With preparations complete, Fienne rapped on the door.
"Oh, Fienne."
Rishir emerged, greeting her warmly.
Fienne replied with a casual nod.
Indifferently.
Yet the air around her screamed tension.
"What happened to that pristine white dress that suits you so well?"
"...Your eyes must work fine. I love that dress too. But it's too conspicuous for travel."
As expected.
One quip from Rishir shattered her facade.
"So, what brings you here?"
"...Pardon?"
She had promised Rishir and Pamon.
No more harming innocents with True Ancestor power.
Thus, she could no longer pose as Diltan's lady.
Effectively homeless.
Pamon had thus implored the pair—
"You're not pretending ignorance after our talk, are you? You said it yourself: you wanted me along for your journey."
"Haa..."
"Haa!? What's that sigh!? Rude! Insulting! Do you see me as someone deserving that!?"
"No, not that. Just caught my breath... You sure about this? It's no easy road."
"I'll decide. And don't get ideas. I'm tagging along only till I establish my own base."
"Ideas? And no more sly mind tricks, understand? Next time won't end with a spanking. Wait—did I even spank you?"
"..."
Show interest, and she beamed like a pup reunited with its owner.
Offer an inch, and she strained for affection.
To Fienne, humans were thus: simple, foolish, pathetic.
Yet this human evoked the reverse.
Even now.
She'd opened the door, yet this tepid response—what was it?
Childish dismissal.
First since her ascension. Humiliating.
Since their first encounter, Fienne obsessed over Rishir.
I won't forgive... this humiliation... I'll make him pay...
She'd enslave this fool.
True Ancestor power forbidden, but her arsenal ran deeper.
Fienne knew her worth best: allure, beauty, singularity.
"...Who knows. Care to guess my 'ideas'?"
Fienne closed in, demeanor shifting.
Her lithe form entwined. Upturned eyes gazed from below.
Seductive allure to ignite desire.
—So she believed.
Mirror-checked, practiced.
Yet her mirror self and Rishir's view diverged sharply.
Fidgety motions. Clumsy gaze.
Cheeks aflame with shame—was she seducer or seduced?
Perplexed, Rishir patted her upturned head.
"Eeek—"
The instinctive patronizing deepened the True Ancestor's blush.
"What're you doing?"
A sharp voice cut in.
Roera yanked Rishir's arm, prying them apart.
"Why're you here? She's no Bendel now."
That glare flipped Fienne's aura.
From perennial loser to mana-wielding threat.
"True. No longer Bendel. So not your brother anymore. None of your business?"
"And no longer your fiancé. Even less yours."
"Oh? Didn't hear? At Rishir's request, I'm joining his journey."
"Rishir's request?"
"Rishir's request?"
Roera glared at Rishir for answers.
He relayed it to Fienne, amplified.
"Wrong? It all started with your request, no?"
Forbidding True Ancestor harm on innocents—request, technically.
Only after scary Dark Elf glare, grudgingly.
Rishir skipped that detail.
"..."
Aware of her bravado? Her furtive glances were pitiful.
"Not entirely wrong..."
"See!?"
One pity coin, and she glowed worldly joy.
Roera eyed them dubiously.
"What's that wishy-washy attitude? The Diltans? They agree? Doubt it."
How deny?
True Ancestor commands master's name.
Diltan eagerly freed Fienne.
Soon, total amnesia.
"Of course. They know our bond."
"He doesn't act like it."
"...He's shy. Pretending from embarrassment."
"What do you know? Not even a fortnight together."
"And you? Rumor: bastard treated nonexistent in Bendel."
"..."
"..."
Gazes clashed; tension thickened.
"Huh? Oh, Fienne? Roera? Introducing: Fienne. True Ancestor, actually. Wild, huh? First for me too. Dangerous? Pfft~ But safe? Tried mind control on Rishir like Diltans, but his special power normalized her—now his maid."
Until Dark Elf with plant-zombie luggage appeared.
Roadside Pamon rapid-fired, then vanished.
"True Ancestor...?"
"Maid...?"
"Normalization..."
Flustering all three: tall order. Dark Elf nailed it.
Defying Rishir's fears, Roera accepted Fienne readily.
A True Ancestor?
Controlled Diltan with power?
Impressive.
Someone master-disciple caliber.
True Ancestors ranked 'reasonable' in her recent rogues' gallery.
Still, Roera disliked her.
"Puppet-master wench. Taking her along?"
"No sweat. True Ancestor my foot—mosquito-level harmless."
"Mosquito..."
Fienne murmured, eyes dull.
"Plus, promised: no more power abuse. Master magic-notarized. Solid."
"...If she intervened—"
Roera eased wariness.
Rishir grinned at her.
"That worried about big bro?"
Roera's face scrunched.
"Shut it."
Side-by-side on sofa, Roera fidgeted.
Leaving? No.
Shoes off, she swung legs onto Rishir's lap.
"Roera? Bro worries now. Such bold etiquette publicly?"
"Only for you, obviously."
"Newsflash: one's more here."
"Maid. Ignore. Legs ache. Staying."
Voice spoiled—bro relented.
"N-not a maid!?"
Fienne bolted up opposite, voice high.
"Then what?"
"I-I'm—his fiancée! You know!"
"Oh~ Sure."
"We even kissed! Super close!"
"Oh~ ...Huh?"
Roera whipped to Rishir.
"What?"
Thighs tensed.
"Rishir! Y-you enjoyed it...! Denying!?"
Fienne sidled, clung arm.
Sensual seduction? Toddler fit.
"Heavy..."
Rishir crushed gradually.
Departure prepped.
I might lag; Master seemed set.
Plant zombie vanished post-mansion frenzy.
Master summoned soon after.
"My disciple? Preps good?"
Usual vibrant smile.
She outlined plans.
"I'd adore traveling, teaching Rishir everything."
"But as said, Master's duties abound."
"Journey perilous; can't drag Rishir."
No shock.
Her plan from outset.
I attended calmly.
"Desperate to impart secret magic—"
"But steep costs, sacrifices."
"Cursed Dark Elf lore distances normalcy."
"Good disciple might consent? I refuse."
"Decide post-experience."
"Thus, disciple."
"Brief tutelage ends."
Vibrant smile punctuated farewell.
Dryish for goodbye, but quintessentially Master—uplifting.
"Artfully brief. Tavern basement yields more."
"Disciple~ Sorry~ Inept master~ Limbs long, scenic though~?"
Master's drivel.
Artfully inept.
Duran's barb atop.
Last hearing? Regretful.
Yet—
"We'll meet again?"
"Naturally. Perhaps next, you're master? Growth pace viable."
"Master's most incendiary words yet."
"Really?"
"Aye. Such disciple I'll forge: abandonment despair for you."
"Talk big."
"Duran~ Disaster~ Disciple furious~?"
Your monster. Embrace doom.
First-meet day flashed.
Book aside.
Master oft noted: my normalcy toward Dark Elves—profoundly special.
Reciprocal.
Bastard-normal treatment: peerless.
No Master? Paths diverge?
Magic discovery?
Bendel independence?
Roera reconciliation?
"Master."
"Yes, disciple."
"Short span reshaped life. Gratitude."
"..."
First: smile vanished.
Silver-eyed Dark Elf gazed serene. Briefly.
"Uwaaaang~ Disciple~"
Original face, sobbing embrace.
"Nooo~ Tried dignified~"
She wailed in arms awhile.
...Wails only.
"Lastly, disciple? Take this?"
Master set small vial on desk.
"What?"
"Duran~ Raided? My disciple'll judge harsh~"
"Kindest, strongest, fairest, flakiest master ever."
"Disciple~ Emotions to the end~"
Master pressed vial into hand.
Bendel's 'treasure'? Bland vial.
Clear liquid, unremarkable.
"Elixir."
"...!"
Word hit; heart raced.
Elixir.
Rare stuff + master's craft: ultimate treasure.
Fantasy prime: power paramount.
All sacrifice self for it.
Elixir bypasses/abridges/transcends.
One swig: months-years-lifetime gains.
Cheat incarnate.
Rich/powerful salivate.
Not ubiquitous.
Bendel hoards undrunk.
Value: incalculable.
Old me? Lifetime pipe dream.
If any, sell for ease—not drink.
"T-too plain for elixir...?"
"Valuable proof—not cheap."
"Eh... Really?"
"Creation-storage: meticulous refining preserves. Appearance sacrificed for essence. Incomprehensible magic therein—even for me."
"G-give this to me...?"
Trembling inevitable.
Even Master: rare score—
"Yes. For you."
"...Master!!!"
"Disciple~"
Lifted vial, scrutinized.
"Wh-what now...? Drink here?"
She shook head.
"No. Wrong spot."
"Elixir spot? Criteria?"
"Alters constitution. New one sways environs. Haeren decent. But optimal needed for perfection."
Her eyes gleamed rare.
"F-for novice: material analogy...?"
"Priceless—but: metropolis mansion?"
"M-metropolis mansion...!?"
NYC penthouse vibe?
Botch: poof, central condo.
"Yes. 10% loss? Mansion gone."
10%?
"Kuaaaah—!!!"
"Disciple~ Thrilled~?"
Regained poise.
"S-so Master: ideal spot? Capital?"
"Capital fine. Distant. Thus: Bondales next?"
Bondales.
Haeren +2-3 villages: city.
Karog Tower.
Guilds, merchants galore.
"No prime magic hub, but knowledge boost apt."
"Intake there?"
"Not instant guzzle; spots listed."
Here.
Here.
Here.
Handwritten list.
"There~"
Clap.
Ended.
"Disciple~?"
Arms wide.
Hugged.
"Safe travels, Master."
"Obvi~"
"Till succession visit..."
"No jest~"
"Safe, Duran."
They departed Haeren post-farewell.
I sought Bondales transport.
Difficulty f**king insane
What the hell's Mumumu
What the hell's Dilong
Keep dying to s**t-tier names, self-hate off charts
"Then, off we go."
The scenery shifted in their eyes.
Hooves clopped, wheels rumbled—silence shattered swiftly.
"Well then—folks. Long haul ahead; introductions?"
Voice silky, gender-ambiguous.
Trim blond gleamed wheat-golden.
Habitual smile flashed white teeth against tanned skin; thick lashes framed sky-blue eyes, drawing gazes unisex.
Youth's affable charm targeted opposites.
"I'm Eron."
Opposing man replied.
"Rishir."
Eron fixated.
Seemingly warm.
Innocents wouldn't suspect.
Loser.
His inner sneer of superiority.
Scan done; Eron eyed others leisurely.
"…!"
Gaze locked Rishir's neighbor: girl.
Gray robe, hood—yet pitiable aura seeped.
Eyes flicked duo; Eron beamed anticipatory.
"Pleased, Rishir. Short trip, but kindly."
"Likewise, Eron."
He mocked their naive grins, ignorant doom.
['Charm Power'-related stats sharply reduced]
▷ Skill: Charm Power [Mental Interference (Lowest)]