Chapter 163
Chapter 163
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 163
Chapter Title: Epilogue: Oh Daesu and Nangong Cheonghwi -1
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Clop, clop, snort.
The rhythmic sound of hooves slowed to a stop, replaced by a joyful whinny proclaiming their arrival at last. The coachman patted the horse affectionately, praising its hard work, before turning to his passenger.
"Welcome to the imperial capital, Crown Hall."
"My thanks. Your driving was impressive—made for a comfortable ride."
"No trouble at all."
What an old-fashioned way of speaking.
The passenger had a rather peculiar manner of speech. Was he from some distant land, or was this etiquette from the upper echelons beyond a commoner's ken? There was no way to know.
One thing was certain, though: the man positioned between the boy and the young man was a martial arts master.
The coachman wasn't a swordmaster in disguise who could spot it. He'd simply witnessed the passenger demonstrate a sublime technique en route.
A wild boar had charged recklessly in front of the speeding carriage.
The passenger, seated inside, exploded forward in an instant with a bursting sound. Swinging both arms, he sent the boar flying off at a near-vertical angle.
It had been startling.
"Those who master martial arts to the extreme move like magic," the regular at the coachman's favorite tavern would say every single day.
Had he not heard that retired knight's tiresome routine through his drunken ramblings, the coachman might have mistaken him for a mage.
To possess such skill at that age. No matter what path he chose, word would spread through Crown Hall soon enough. The capital's residents were always starved for tales of heroes.
That must be why even that bizarre woman calling herself the "Pure Knight" had gained popularity.
Once the passenger's name and fame circulated the capital, the coachman would have a new drinking story. One time, I picked up this mysterious young man as a fare...
"...Hiss."
Envers sucked air through his teeth at the stinging pain in his left arm. He'd taken damage deflecting that boar on the way here.
He'd stepped up boldly but didn't want to look weak by showing his injury, so he'd played it cool in front of the coachman without even treating it.
Should've just blasted it away with Explosive Shatter Strike instead of trying some fancy Plum Blossom Graft.
His proficiency with precise movements was still lacking. No use regretting it now—the wound wouldn't vanish—so Envers chalked it up to practice.
The capital looked vastly different from Envers's memories.
Broad avenues wide enough to feel refreshing, magic lamps spaced at regular intervals. The world's finest sewer system remained unchanged.
The imperial capital Crown Hall still stood at the forefront of progress.
So what had changed?
Specifically, it was cleaner. In the past, peering into dim alleys revealed traces of blood or vomit from who-knows-where. Stark signs of violence.
No matter how dazzling the empire's heart, shadows lingered. Capital folk living in the light busied themselves pretending not to see.
Parents would pinch children's ears if they strayed toward shady alleys, extracting promises never to go again.
Even checking the occasional shallow alley now, Envers saw no such traces.
"Spotless..."
They said Second Prince Irid cared deeply for the common folk—perhaps this was his doing. Deeper in, who knew, but at least in everyday citizens' areas, the menace was gone.
It had become a better place to live.
Envers strolled through Crown Hall, reminiscing. Returning after so long, he planned to bring gifts.
Brother Roderus hated sweets. When sugary cookies came in rations, he'd grumble they were for girls and that he only ate them for calories.
So he'd buy hardtack instead—bland and filling. There was a shop making cheap batches for broke adventurers and mercenaries. It had to be around here...
"...Nowhere in sight."
Moved? Or had he taken a wrong turn? Envers scanned for locals to ask directions.
Among passersby, one sight caught his eye.
On the open second-floor balcony of a dessert cafe, two beautiful women enjoyed a pleasant time.
"Daesu, this is so good."
"You like anything loaded with sugar. Too cloying for me. Feels like my side fat's growing with every bite."
Yet her fork never paused at the cake.
"Huh, you care about belly fat too? Liar! You're so slim... Where, where."
"...Don't shove your hand under my clothes!"
One had faintly pinkish red hair and ruby-like scarlet eyes, petite and clinging fiercely to the woman opposite.
The other had crimson hair down to her waist, sharp fox-like eyes, and an intriguing aura that drew Envers's gaze.
Not romantic interest—his heart was full of the moon. So not rational curiosity, but... an inexplicable pull.
Thus, Envers decided to ask them for directions. Calling up from below the balcony.
"Hey! Mind if I ask for directions?"
"...Here we go again. Sorry, but neither Lulu nor I want to fall in love, get engaged, be friends, or share a meal with strangers—"
The crimson-haired woman scowled irritably, turning to shoo off yet another man pretending to ask directions to make a move...
"...!!"
She jolted as if floating three centimeters off the ground, then frantically covered her face and whipped her head away. Her heart pounded wildly, cold sweat breaking out in seconds.
Envers Redburn—her little brother, whom she'd personally exiled from the family long ago. Years had passed, but she'd recognize that face anywhere. They were siblings.
They said he was thriving at the academy—why here?!
Calm down. Calm.
No way he'd recognize her. Roderus was under Magical Change via divine mystery of transcendence right now. Impossible to spot. But if by some chance...
Poor Roderus's soul would face social death.
Kim Lulu tilted her head at Roderus suddenly shivering all over. A veteran at rebuffing flirts, why the fuss today?
"Hey, Daesu, you okay? Choked? Want water?"
"...Don't call me by name. Use my full name."
The phonetic similarity might trigger Oh Daesu → Roderus.
"What's wrong? If you don't like that guy, I can flatten him and chase him off."
"No, it's fine. Just... please stay quiet."
"I've a lover, so worry not! I truly just wanted directions. Know where the Great Whale Bakery went? It used to be right up ahead."
"......"
Deep breath. Deep breath.
Roderus barely calmed her shock, resolving to give her long-lost brother quick, precise info and send him packing.
"The Great Whale Bakery formally contracted with the Mercenary Guild... Moved next door to the guild."
"Got it. Up from the countryside after ages—thought I'd grab snacks for my brother I haven't seen in years. Thanks for the tip."
"...N-No, think nothing of it. Th-Think nothing."
Did she have to mimic a haughty lady's speech too? Roderus felt reality crash in by the second but figured it beat getting caught while quacking like a duck.
Watching this, jealousy flared in Kim Lulu's eyes.
Her high-performance brain had coldly deduced:
1. Oh Daesu
2. Covered her face and blushed at first sight of this boy.
3. Used overly feminine speech she'd die before uttering.
This was... green light.
To Kim Lulu, it screamed crimson red light. She wouldn't lose Daesu to this pale, untanned punk with crimson hair.
Oh Daesu and Kim Lulu had kept things pure. One knew but didn't push; the other was oblivious and shy.
Progress? Interlocking fingers on a rainy day—that was it. But with an intruder now, possessiveness boiled up from Kim Lulu's depths.
Time to be bold.
"You there!"
"...Me?"
"Yeah! Daesu's mine, so back off! I'll make it crystal clear...!!"
Like a beast marking territory, Kim Lulu seized both of Daesu's wrists and buried her face deep in her nape.
"Wha—wait, Kim Lulu! Hey...!!"
Smoooch.
Then, lips pressed firm, she sucked hard, leaving a thick hickey. Daesu thrashed in hammer-to-head shock. What was happening?
Her first flesh-and-blood assault bluescreened Daesu's mind.
"Mwah mwah mwah mwah."
"S-Stop...!!"
"......"
Witnessing front-row, Envers thought Crown Hall had grown awfully open-minded. He coughed awkwardly.
"Ahem, enjoy your lovely romance. Won't interrupt further."
"Stop it, Kim Lulu...!!"
"Say you like only me!"
"......"
He fled the blooming lilies.
Envers stopped at the Mercenary Guild, successfully buying hardtack. He also grabbed a dagger and a bottle of wine.
If chance allowed, he'd share drinks with Brother Roderus and talk openly.
He walked.
As the mansion neared, darkness shrouded his heart. Past wounds flashed by, blackening his inner sky.
But pitch-black nights birth moons. Envers's steps never faltered.
At last, he reached the estate. Redburn Mansion unchanged: flag on the roof, roses in the garden, guards at the gate.
"No invited guests today. Who are you?"
"I am Envers Redburn. Blood of Redburn flows in me—I have the right to enter."
Contempt gleamed in the guard's eyes.
"Envers... young master, eh? About time your face showed. Think you qualify with that mana-less body?"
"......"
"Fled like a sick dog? Should've stayed gone. I'd be too ashamed to return."
Clink.
The guard tossed a gold coin to the ground.
"Here for handouts? Take this and scram, young master. No room for the incompetent in House Redburn."
"...Sigh."
Yes. That was this place.
Envers bent to pick up the coin. The guard stomped his hand flat, boot crushing knuckles against greave.
Sneers rained on his bowed head. Mere bloodline earned no respect here. Hierarchy hinged on strength and devotion via that strength.
Like the Demonic Cult. Word was, they followed the law of the supremacy of the strong.
"Then you should be the one bowing."
"Hmph."
"Guards are the family's face. Insulting a guest without fulfilling your duty harms House Redburn itself. And..."
Crunch.
Envers's crushed hand twitched. Slowly, the boot lifted.
The guard panicked, throwing his full weight down—but still, Envers's hand rose steadily. Until suddenly.
Bam—!
The world flipped.
It happened in a flash. The guard's body spun half a circle. Legs up, head down.
He couldn't comprehend. A martial form he'd never seen, his own strength turned against him—that faint realization was all.
Before he could process, Envers's kick slammed his face.
Crack—!! Crash!!
The massive impact hurled the guard forward, his body smashing open Redburn Mansion's gates. Creeeak. The ruined doors groaned ominously.
"I'm stronger—so grovel properly, you peasant."
Through the gap strode Envers Redburn—Nangong Cheonghwi—with dignified grace.
He had returned.