Chapter 90
Chapter 90
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Peculiar
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Rishir, who had been dragged away by the Swordmaster known as the Outer Sword.
He returned wielding the Blue Lotus, the Swordmaster's famed beloved blade.
The origin of that Blue Lotus was obvious without needing to ask.
Even so, Shakan asked on behalf of the group.
"That Blue Lotus... is it perhaps the Outer Sword's Blue Lotus?"
Why not? There was no law saying there could only be one Blue Lotus in the world.
Blindly insisting 'There are actually multiple Blue Lotuses!' without any basis would be blatantly forced—
But it was still more realistic than claiming 'Rishir is holding the Outer Sword's Blue Lotus!'
What story wasn't like that?
—Ah, this? I picked it up off the ground, and it happened to have a Blue Lotus engraving, so I named it Blue Lotus.
Even if Rishir spouted such nonsense, they were ready to eagerly accept it.
"Oh, so there are multiple Blue Lotuses in the world?"
"…"
However, Rishir's innocent reply thoroughly curbed their wild imaginations.
It seemed they had no choice but to acknowledge it.
The Blue Lotus he held was indeed the Outer Sword's cherished blade.
"How…"
The flame mage's fiery temperament was nowhere to be seen on his face.
The disciple of the Red Tower Lord spoke with an unprecedentedly unstable and meek expression.
"Why do you... no, why are you holding the Outer Sword's beloved blade…"
"?"
Sudden formal speech?
Rishir thought he misheard and focused on Balrod's question.
"…Ha."
Gazing at the Blue Lotus like that brought an involuntary chuckle.
'Truth is, the Blue Lotus is an ego sword. The friend the Outer Sword mentioned needing help from was the ego inside it, and the Outer Sword revered that ego as his master. The moment I gripped the sword, that master spoke to me, urging 'Become my comrade.' Turns out she was a murder ghost, got bound to me somehow, I could wield her power, so I impersonated the Outer Sword's master… Ah, no, this won't work.'
He simply lacked the confidence to coherently explain that otherworldly tale in a believable way.
Thus, Rishir took the best possible action in the situation.
"I solved his problem and received it as thanks."
Rishir glossed over it with a meaningful smile.
In such cases, insufficient communication could breed misunderstandings—
'It'll be fine.'
Rishir didn't mind much.
After all, he was the village hero who had dealt with the natural disaster called the Outer Sword, wasn't he?
Even if misunderstandings arose, he believed they'd ultimately reach a positive conclusion.
"…I see!"
"…If you say so."
"…Ah, got it."
In truth, they accepted Rishir's actions with positive attitudes.
However.
Rishir had overlooked a few things.
First was the weight the name "Outer Sword" carried for them, unaware of Rodan's changed state.
'That wastrel gave away his beloved sword as thanks? Ridiculous…'
And second—
'No way... did he take out the Outer Sword!? Like he did with those demons!?'
The weight the name "Rishir" carried for them.
Rishir didn't know.
How exaggerated(?) their perception of him had become.
Thus, having left the judgment to them.
They naturally arrived at the conclusion: 'Rishir subdued the Outer Sword and snatched his beloved blade!'
Of course, it wasn't full certainty yet.
It was true that Rishir had repeatedly defied common sense up to now.
But 'Making the Outer Sword submit and stealing his cherished sword' was on another level.
It required not luck or tricks, but absolute power.
For a young mage like Rishir to possess that kind of power was nearly impossible.
No.
Not nearly—it was outright impossible.
Just in case, they gauged Rishir's mana.
His mana, perfectly fused with his presence, didn't easily allow others to measure it.
Proof that he had comprehended the vision and reached the 6th circle, mastering the power of 'Unique Manifestation.'
Reaching the 6th circle at his age.
That alone was astonishing—
'Well, 6th circle's not bad.'
Through the series of events, they had somewhat grasped the meaning of the word 'Rishir.'
Reaching even the 5th circle at his age would earn genius labels, but 6th?
For Rishir, it seemed entirely plausible.
But beyond that?
'Even for him…'
It was hard for even them to accept.
Precise measurement was impossible, but rough estimation was feasible.
Based on his mana not matching theirs, they pegged him at mid-6th circle.
'No way he's faking 6th to deceive us…'
Ignoring such fanciful thoughts as best they could.
'Maybe the Outer Sword really lost his mind for a moment and gifted it to him.'
That was the conclusion they reached.
"For the Outer Sword to gift his beloved blade… What on earth did you do?"
It was the moment the distance between them and Rishir seemed to recover.
A surge of nausea.
A small cough.
Blood trickled from Rishir's mouth.
Then from his nostrils, eye sockets, ear holes—
All the major orifices on his face began bleeding profusely at once.
"Ri, Rishir!?"
"Are you alright!?"
"You—"
In this unforeseen situation, everyone present recoiled in shock, rushing to check his condition.
Calmly soothing them was one person.
"Ah, everyone. Calm down. It happens sometimes, so don't worry."
It was Rishir.
He spoke as if it were no big deal.
...While bleeding from every orifice on his face.
'Was what just happened with Rodan treated as Normalization? It hurts like hell, but my mana and lifespan must've increased a ton again. Great. Minus the mind-numbing pain. Just keep a straight face so they don't freak out.'
He didn't know.
'...Acting nonchalant in that state?'
That his attempt to stay composed and minimize their shock was actually maximizing it.
He barely endured the dizziness-inducing pain, steadying his breathing.
"…!"
At that sight, the three powerhouses' eyes widened to their limits.
"H-Hey… I'm not imagining this, right…?"
At Shakan's words, they stared at each other in dismay.
Rishir.
His mana was suddenly expanding.
Drastically, as if he'd ingested an elixir.
'We were just talking…?'
Shakan recovered from the shock first.
...To accept another one.
"Wait, isn't that the Blue Breath…?"
With a warrior's eyes, Shakan was the first to discern what Rishir was doing.
And spread the confusion.
"Blue Breath…? Shakan, did you say Blue Breath just now?"
"Rishir's using… Blue Breath to control mana overload…?"
"…But isn't he a mage?"
"…Exactly. Wasn't he a mage?"
"…?"
"…"
Silence fell around them.
"Ah, it's fine now. Sorry, everyone, but I think I'm about to pass out, so please handle the rest."
With those words, Rishir truly collapsed on the spot.
A familiar occurrence, happening occasionally.
It lent credibility to his recent statement.
They hurried to check on him—
'…Yeah, maybe he really took it from the Outer Sword.'
But their minds distanced themselves from Rishir, contrary to their bodies.
It was the moment the novice mage became an object of awe to the powerhouses and authorities.
"Lord Rishir, you're awake!"
Rishir came to in the most luxurious guest room in Ran's mansion.
Councilor Ran, the physician waiting by the bed, greeted him immediately.
"How is your body…"
Rishir's expression grew complicated at the somehow overly deferential councilor.
"Ah, is something wrong?"
"Is it a problem…"
Why the extreme honorifics?
Rishir considered the status gap between himself and the councilor.
Ran, head of the prestigious Pellos family in Bondales and a powerful councilor.
Himself, the bastard son of a prestigious High Haeren family and an honorary mage of the tower.
'Shouldn't she be the one calling me lord?'
Pushing aside such trivial doubts, Rishir met Ran's eyes.
Though he'd gained unexpected side benefits, the biggest significance of this incident was showing a good side to Ran, the city's power broker.
The councilor's influence across the city would expand his own, limited to the mage tower, throughout Bondales.
Perhaps this could even gain him entry into the city's noble society.
Better status, income, environment, and Normalization.
With expectations gleaming in his eyes, Rishir said,
"I was just curious. Or rather, apologetic. I worried if I'd unnecessarily tied up the busy feet of Councilor Ran with trivial matters…"
As Rishir acted the polite young noble, Ran's unnatural demeanor quickly corrected itself.
She reverted to her dignified councilor poise, wearing a relaxed smile.
"Trivial matters? I can confidently say nothing is more important to me right now than you."
No empty words.
The intense performance(?) Rishir had unleashed via the Blue Lotus.
It left an indelible impression on everyone present.
Ran had been there too.
'This young mage truly took that Swordmaster's sword…'
Rishir didn't know.
Councilor Ran, who wielded her seasoned political instincts to manipulate the city's nobles and merchants at will.
That she was inwardly in a state of extreme tension.
Thanks to that, he'd secured the maximum compensation from the notoriously tough negotiator.
...And that, if he demanded more, he could squeeze even that out(?).
In truth, Ran was worrying if that might happen.
"Your words leave me at a loss."
But contrary to her worries, Rishir's attitude was exceedingly sensible and courteous.
'Still, can't let my guard down…'
Ran forced a natural smile.
She glanced around the room.
As if guiding Rishir's gaze.
As he followed suit, she said,
"How is the room? It's the largest guest room in the Pellos estate. Reserved for visiting grand nobles from afar."
"Aside from the guilt of using such a room— yes, I can't imagine better. A splendid place."
"I'm the one giving it, yet I feel honored instead. Thanks for saying so, Rishir. May I call you that?"
"Of course, Councilor."
"Thank you. In return— though it sounds odd— feel free to call me Ran."
"I tend to feel uncomfortable if I'm too comfortable. Then, accepting your kindness, I'll call you Miss Ran."
"That works. Rishir, you've just woken, so you might be disoriented. Shall we get to the point?"
"Of course."
At that signal, Ran's demeanor shifted.
High yet courteous— befitting a councilor.
"Your exploits this time were impressive. Without you, Bondales and its citizens would have suffered greatly. On behalf of Bondales, allow me to express thanks. In the name of myself and Pellos, I promise due treatment and rewards."
"Whoa. Just hearing it makes my heart race. I usually don't expect much, but as expected, you're different, Councilor."
"…"
At the young mage's jest, Ran subtly covered her mouth, hiding her twitching lips.
That extraordinary ability.
That refined speech.
To Ran, he was surely the scion of a renowned noble house.
Yet strangely, he lacked the brashness or arrogance typical of young nobles.
Despite abilities incomparable to theirs.
The councilor's eyes on the young mage grew ever more intrigued.
"I'll strive to meet those expectations. We'll wrap up the incident swiftly and deliver on our promises. So, Rishir, if possible, could you stay at the Pellos estate until it's resolved? It won't take long."
"Understood."
Hearing the desired response, Ran left with light steps.
Alone now, Rishir rose from the bed and looked around.
Then a voice sounded.
—Master! Are you truly alright!? Imprisoned in this pigsty of human filth!
The source was a gray crystal orb on the table.
"Even if I left now, I couldn't find better lodgings."
—Wait! Looking again, it's quite splendid! To think humans had such taste! Worth a second glance!
"Heh."
Rishir approached the table, gazing at the unamusing demon.
In their recent talk, Ran had mentioned the seal stone for Dangaleon, intending to transfer ownership post-incident.
Plus the other from slaying Dranof.
Rishir was now effectively Dangaleon's owner(?).
This gave him a slight dilemma.
Should he be happy?
'Well, it's a demon of some rank. Bound to be useful someday.'
Anyway.
Now came the main event.
Rishir approached the Blue Lotus, carefully stored in one corner of the room, and drew it.
"Hey."
No response despite calls.
Resigned, Rishir closed his eyes and entered his inner world.
"Hm?"
The moment Rishir entered his inner world.
The bob-haired murder ghost charged at him explosively, as if she'd been waiting.
Clana, tackling Rishir, unhesitatingly thrust her sword into his solar plexus.
Gotcha!
Joy flashed across her face.
"…!"
Until she saw the sword touching him turn to dust and scatter.
"Your welcome's a bit intense."
Rishir seized the opening in her shock to counter and subdue her.
Clana sneered back.
In the murder ghost's eyes, Rishir's movements were tediously simple and slow.
"…!?"
Yet with those, she was caught.
After a brief scuffle.
Clana ended up pinned to the ground, arm gripped by Rishir.
"You fucking... fuck!!!!"
She thrashed and roared like a beast in a net.
Power enough to hurl Rishir's body in reality, but here she merely flailed under him.
"What the hell is this!!!"
"'Master.' Your greeting's a tad rough. Or is this your style? This unworthy disciple already worries for the future."
"Shut up! Who the hell's your master!"
"Come on, why deny it? Didn't you tell me to become your disciple, Master?"
"You mad bastard…!!!"
If she'd sensed disciple-like respect toward her, she'd have played along to exploit it.
But that meaningful tone.
And that leisurely smile.
He wouldn't mistake their relationship.
He'd never show emotional cracks.
The murder ghost, who had toyed with countless prey, knew.
In their dynamic, she was utterly on the receiving end.
"With that in mind, 'Master.' Tell me about this sword."
"…"
The murder ghost's body stirred subtly.
"Oh?"
Rishir exclaimed at the subtle motion.
Her fist, moments ago pinned by him, was already swinging at his face.
A complete surprise strike.
—Tok
If not for that sound effect, it might have been.
Rishir caught Clana's fist, placed it atop her body, and tapped lightly.
Tok tok—
As if saying 'behave.'
"Ugh— uuuugh—"
Humiliation flushed the murder ghost's face red.
"Master— ah, wait, I never got your name. You. What's your name?"
"I won't tell vermin like you! I'm Clana!"
"Clana. Nice name."
"Aaaargh!!!"
Enraged, the murder ghost bit her tongue.
—Ang
Only a cute sound emerged.
"Clana. I'm Rishir.
"Shut up!!! Don't care about your name!"
"What's my name?"
"Rishir!"
"Not sure if I should say this, but Clana, your words and actions don't match at all."
"Please... just shut your trap... before I kill you...!!!"
Clana leaned in, glaring with bloodshot eyes.
The murder ghost Blue Lotus's genuine killing intent.
The intangible violence that had chilled even that era's Swordmaster.
Faced with it, her opponent merely giggled.
Leaning in equally, forehead to forehead.
"Really? Then enough chit-chat. Let's begin."
"…!"
Clana involuntarily pulled back.
At once, the world flipped.
Suddenly, she faced Rishir, wooden sword in hand.
"…Ha, hahahahaha!!!"
Clana burst into mad laughter.
Soon, exhaustion clear on her face, she demonstrated light forms, as if saying 'take this and scram.'
That was when.
A sudden, unidentified sensation crashed in.
A bliss one could call happiness made Clana collapse.
"?????"
Pure bewilderment crossed her face.
Her cheeks were faintly flushed.