Chapter 5
Chapter 5
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Water Flow Manipulation (4)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Jerbon's funeral was conducted with remarkable simplicity, considering it was an Oceanis Family affair.
The tragic death of a young man barely twenty years old was undoubtedly regrettable, but apart from that, it wasn't the sort of widely known passing that brought any glory.
Honestly, getting assassinated wasn't something to boast about. It was a disgrace both for Jerbon himself and for the Oceanis Family.
On top of that, Jerbon's youth played a role. He hadn't engaged much in outside activities yet, so beyond the family's connections, he had scarcely any personal ties.
In short, there were hardly any people who would take offense at not being invited to the funeral. That was why they didn't bother making it lavish.
Of course, given the Oceanis Family's stature, even their "simple" funeral became known to everyone on the island.
So what had Galen been doing the entire time during the mourning period?
He played around.
Normally, the servant closest to a deceased master would be bustling with funeral preparations, but Galen—ordered into seclusion by the acting family head—was left adrift.
No one approached him, making him feel half like a ghost. It was probably akin to the plight of an office worker showing up to find their desk relocated to a warehouse.
Having already soured on the family, he felt no particular stir.
Thanks to that, he had endless time for magic practice. Before, he'd felt a twinge of conscience, but now all hesitation was gone.
He toyed with water until his mana ran dry, rested until it recovered, and repeated infinitely.
From the ship returning to Solta right through his seclusion, that's how he spent his time—and before he knew it, Water Flow Manipulation teetered on the brink of level 13. He'd gained at least one level per day without fail.
The text Galen had dubbed the "status window," borrowing from game lingo, served as an excellent milestone.
The range at which he sensed surrounding water, the controllable range, the volume he could manipulate, the speed and precision of control—all of it.
Galen could personally feel every aspect improving with each level up. Seeing tangible progress fueled his motivation immensely.
Of course, he still fell short of Jerbon's prowess, but that was only natural; their training time differed by hundreds-fold.
At this pace, he might catch up before long—his skills were growing at a terrifying rate, enough to spark such overconfident thoughts.
In any case, while Galen holed up in his room amusing himself alone, Jerbon's funeral came to an end.
"Sorry, Galen."
He received exactly the disposition he'd anticipated from the steward.
"Young Master Rius has decided to dismiss you. I tried pleading your case, but he wouldn't budge."
"No need for the steward to apologize. That's just the lot of a servant."
"I can grant you a few days' grace at my discretion. Take your time preparing."
"No, I'll leave today. What's there to prepare?"
Servants essentially functioned as personal secretaries, their workplace inseparable from their master. The master's death meant the job vanished—departing was the norm.
Occasionally, those with recognized talent were rehired into other roles, but the Oceanis Family had been dropping heavy hints for him to leave throughout the funeral. Galen had no desire to cling pathetically.
Far from it—he felt unburdened as he returned to his room.
Midway through packing, Elisa arrived.
The busiest and most grief-stricken at the funeral, she looked somewhat worn, but her eyes burned sharp.
"What brings the young lady here?"
"I just heard from the steward. You're leaving."
"I have to. I've become a criminal who failed his master."
"How could that possibly be your fault?"
Elisa spoke with a bitter edge.
"But if the acting family head sees it that way, that's the family's reality now. Seems like they're trying to erase every last trace of Jerbon. The way they sidelined you from the funeral onward."
"They can do that to me, fine. But treating Young Master Jerbon like that is honestly a bit..."
"Trash. Blood ties or not, they're siblings. How can they wear human skins and act like that?"
Still inside the mansion, Galen watched his words. Though Elisa voiced what he'd omitted, rendering it pointless.
Silence fell, the mood sinking, until Galen rummaged in his bosom.
"Right, I have something for the young lady."
"For me?"
"Should've given it sooner, but you've been swamped, and I've been in seclusion."
Galen produced a small box, marred by dried bloodstains from handprints.
"The last thing Young Master Jerbon asked of me. A gift he'd bought for you..."
"...Hand it over."
Elisa took the box with faintly trembling hands.
Earrings that appeared plain at first glance but exuded refined beauty.
Staring wordlessly, moisture gathered in her eyes.
But before tears could spill, she squeezed them shut.
"Thank you."
Long moments later, she opened them and whispered in a voice thick with emotion.
Tucking the box preciously into her bosom, she concealed her sorrow completely and continued as if nothing had happened.
"Where will you go after leaving the family?"
"Haven't settled on a destination yet. Thinking of heading to the mainland first."
"Leaving the Sun Archipelago altogether?"
"Yes. Doesn't seem like I'd enjoy much glory sticking around the islands."
All three siblings above Elisa viewed Galen unfavorably.
Even leaving the main house, the entire Sun Archipelago was the Oceanis Family's front yard. Galen had no intention of lingering under their gaze.
"Smart choice. Leaving home isn't easy, but it'll be safer that way."
She hesitated a moment on whether to voice it, then sighed and let it out.
"Truth be told, given how things are now, it wouldn't be strange if one of those three above me decided to kill you."
"...Kill me?"
"They're desperate to bury this incident entirely. You, with knowledge that could stir talk, might get buried too. Dead men tell no tales, after all."
"I've no intention of blabbing, but did I know enough to warrant silencing?"
"Doesn't matter. They eliminate anything that annoys them on a whim. Not guaranteed, of course, but..."
"No need to test that theory with my own hide."
"Got it?"
"Yes. Thank you for the warning, young lady."
If even she—who knew the family's dark underbelly better than anyone—said as much, it was an ill omen. His resolve to depart swiftly strengthened.
"Still, once you're off the island, they won't chase you down. You're not worth the serious effort of a targeted elimination."
"Being a nobody has its perks sometimes."
"Don't get too complacent, though. They're not consistently rational—might impulsively order a wipeout of small fry like you."
Sensing she'd only heap on worries if she continued, Elisa wrapped up her counsel there.
Instead, she produced a hefty pouch and handed it over. Gesturing for him to check, Galen peeked inside and his eyes widened.
"Wh-what's all this?"
"My way of saying thanks. It's modest, but please accept."
"Hardly modest..."
"You earned at least this for your contributions. The family didn't even properly reward you."
Dozens of gold coins at a glance.
Enough to cover several years' living expenses for an ordinary household. Ample seed money for starting anew anywhere.
Elisa insisted, and it was far too substantial to refuse out of mere politeness, so Galen accepted gratefully.
"I won't forget this kindness."
"It's not kindness—it's rightful compensation."
"The moment you provided it in the family's stead, it stopped being 'rightful.'"
For the first time since hearing of her brother's death, Elisa smiled—faint and bitter though it was.
As she rose to leave, Galen offered a final, courteous farewell.
"Take care of yourself, Lady Elisa."
"...You too, Galen. Here's hoping our paths cross again someday."
With an elegant curtsey, she bid him goodbye.
Thus, all the bonds Galen had forged in the Oceanis Family were severed.
Leaving the main house, Galen headed straight for the docks.
He hadn't fixed on a destination yet, true—but options to the mainland were limited regardless.
This world lacked dedicated passenger ships. They loaded cargo and took people in spare spots as a side gig. Absent a personal vessel, one had to decide based on availability.
Quinis, the nearest mainland city from Solta, was the exception—trade was brisk enough for near-constant sailings.
'But Quinis is Oceanis territory through and through. I want to keep my tracks as faint as possible.'
Inquiring around, Galen found a ship bound for Nijerte.
He'd never even heard of it at first. The Sun Archipelago lay at the southernmost fringe of the south, and Galen's worldly knowledge barely extended that far.
Nijerte was a city in the southeast, it turned out. From Solta's vantage, that meant far to the northeast.
Even direct, it'd take at least a fortnight. Factoring in ship speeds comparable to horses or carriages, an immense distance.
And this wasn't direct—it was a trade vessel stopping at intermediate ports.
'All the better.'
Like setting off from the Philippines, hitting a few Chinese ports, then alighting in Korea.
Good luck tracking that. No internet, photos, or passports. Even modern Earth struggled with overseas fugitives—let alone this world.
'A place that unfamiliar will give a real fresh-start vibe.'
It departed tomorrow morning, no less—couldn't ask for better.
Galen sealed the deal with the captain right there.
Passage secured, he had nothing left to do. He considered a final stroll through the city, but its familiarity killed any tourist thrill.
In the end, he grabbed a bite, took an inn room, and practiced magic. Far more entertaining.
Water Flow Manipulation had leveled up again. Calling it there for the day, Galen lay on the bed.
Sleep wouldn't come easily. Not from fretful thoughts, it seemed—more like excess stamina from days of idling.
He dozed off at some point, only to wake abruptly, puzzled.
"......?"
Why was he awake? The dimness suggested deep night, and no pressing need for the privy. A forgotten nightmare, maybe?
Click!
The key-turning sound snapped him alert.
He'd locked the door, key in his possession. So what was this?
Creeeak!
An innkeeper might have a spare.
But one sneaking into a guest room was a thief or brigand. Stolen or coerced key made no difference.
The intruder slipped in quietly, shut the door softly, and crept toward the bed.
Moonlight from the window briefly outlined the black silhouette.
In that instant.
Galen shot upright and hurled the canteen from the bedside table.
Thud!
It startled the intruder—a successful ambush in that sense—but inflicted zero damage.
Despite the point-blank toss, the intruder reacted nimbly, slashing the incoming canteen with his dagger. The leather burst, water gushing out.
A flick of the blade shed the ruptured canteen; it splashed to the floor. The intruder lunged forward, clamping Galen's throat with his free hand.
"Guh!"
A precise vise on the windpipe stifled any scream. Gazing down at Galen's gagging form, the intruder sneered.
"Would've been easier for both if you'd just kept sleeping. Waking up like this just complicates—"
Mid-sentence, the intruder's head jerked violently forward and back.
No suicide. Caught utterly off-guard, his nape had taken a solid hit—snapping his neck.
The intruder crumpled pathetically, his nape drenched in water.
"Cough, cough."
Rubbing his bruised throat, Galen hacked repeatedly.
"Filthy bastard."
It was his first kill.