Chapter 131
Chapter 131
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 131
Chapter Title: Foul-Moutued People (1)
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Celli's arrival as the White Mage Tower Lord was flashy, but hardly impressive. Even after she showed up, the banquet was just a banquet, and the warriors were just warriors.
"So, that Lania girl said..."
"Her punches packed such a punch, every hit made stars explode in front of my eyes, just..."
"Don't get me started. When she smashed her knee into my temple, I nearly freaked out. Thought my eyes were gonna pop out."
The warriors swapped tales of their exploits.
To them, wounds were badges of honor and prime storytelling fodder. Of course, not every warrior had the glory of clashing with the guest. Those who'd missed out smacked their lips enviously, stealing glances at the girl chatting with the Grand Duke.
In other words...
"...Excuse me?"
The woman who'd burst through the doors got not even a scrap of attention.
"Didn't you hear me?"
Celli felt tears pricking at her eyes for some inexplicable reason.
Who was she? The master of the White Mage Tower, a great mage who'd reached the pinnacle of elemental magic.
'I'm not someone who deserves this kind of treatment...!'
No matter how much the North was a warriors' society, this was over the line. Celli's shoulders trembled. Someone was watching her do it.
"Uh, ahem..."
Oyakal, standing behind Celli, rolled his eyes. Northern warriors ignored the trivial. Combat was all that mattered to them. But not Oyakal.
'This could get dicey...'
The Northern Grand Duke's chief retainer.
Perched in such a high seat, Oyakal had at least a modicum of tact. If the White Mage Tower Lord got truly offended... it would spell a massive headache.
"Ahem! Cough!"
Oyakal cleared his throat.
His fake cough drew eyes his way, if only briefly—including Rak's. Oyakal widened his eyes and mouthed urgently.
'Young master, hurry!'
Oyakal shaped the words with his lips.
Did his desperation get through? Rak, seated at a distance, blinked and spoke up.
"Ah, has Master arrived?"
"Oh my, Lady White Tower Lord!"
At Rak's words, Lady Pailia beside him covered her mouth in surprise. Only then did Oyakal exhale in relief.
'Lady Pailia will handle it.'
She possessed the gentle strength the warriors lacked. She'd manage this situation with ease. Oyakal wiped the sweat from his brow and stepped back.
"Lady Pailia...!"
Celli cried out in a voice thick with emotion. Pailia nodded with a soft smile.
"He must have overlooked you. You must be freezing. Why don't you come warm up by the fire with me?"
"You don't have to go that far..."
"You, shut your mouth."
"......"
A single glance from Pailia silenced Erahil.
"What an egregious oversight. Look at your ears—they're red. Here, have some of this first..."
"Thank you, Lady Pailia. But I'm here with..."
"Save the business talk for later. Join me and enjoy the banquet? You arrived late, so let's make the most of the time left."
Pailia smoothly cut off Celli's words. Then she took Celli's arm and pulled her to her feet.
"No, wait, I have something to say to him...!"
"Goodness, the head chef has prepared something special. Shall we go, dear?"
Unable to mount any real resistance, Celli was dragged away. Midway to another table, Pailia glanced back.
And mouthed the words.
'Enjoy your talk.'
Lania stuck out her tongue in admiration.
'That's... top-tier social finesse?'
She was a woman who fit the role of Northern Duchess perfectly in every way.
2.
I received one request from the Northern Grand Duke. Truth be told, it was hardly a "request"—I'd been doing it since time immemorial.
'Roll them hard, and they grow accordingly.'
It was practically a universal truth.
Sword superhuman Uncle Kuntel had said as much, my master had taught me the same... and even ancient elf Cardi, who'd lived who-knows-how-long, echoed it.
'Then it's truth.'
No reason not to live by it.
Of course, with permission granted, I'd roll him a bit harder... but in my view, that alone wouldn't warrant summoning me all the way north.
'A letter would've sufficed.'
A Grand Duke of the North.
A man of his stature wouldn't call me here for something so trivial. There had to be something more important.
"So, what's the 'request'?"
One request and one plea.
That's how the Grand Duke had put it. With the plea heard, only the request remained. He opened his mouth at my question.
"Professor. Do you know the legend of White Night Castle?"
"The legend of the North claiming White Night Castle? I know the gist."
Ancient ruins, White Night Castle.
I'd researched its legends before.
'One of the Ashen Mage Tower's main duties.'
The ancient nation reduced to ashes.
We'd studied everything connected to it—including White Night Castle, another relic of that nation.
「Endless blizzards ravaged the snow-capped mountains year-round. One day, a great warrior pierced the storm and ascended the peak.」
「As he climbed through the blizzard, a castle appeared before him. The moment he set foot in the castle—gleaming white even in darkness—the storm cleared.」
「In that instant, White Night Castle acknowledged him as its master. A new lord of the North was born.」
That's the gist of the legend I recalled.
Rumors of magical devices manipulating the weather, or the castle itself being some barrier... plenty of hypotheses, but nothing proven.
In the end, nothing was certain.
It couldn't be helped. The legend dated back centuries.
'Even researching it now, it'd be too degraded. Circuits are like that.'
As I pondered the legend, the Grand Duke nodded and continued.
"Yes, the Grace family's founding lord succeeded in breaching the blizzard and claiming White Night Castle. Centuries have passed since... but the tale endures as an unfading legend."
A symbol of sorts.
His eyes narrowed as he said it.
"For those inheriting the Grace name, the blizzard is a trial to overcome. A wall to surmount. And my son here faces that moment soon."
He chuckled, watching Rak chew his meat, then tapped Rak's head lightly.
"I could take him myself... but I'd like you, who'll teach him from here on, to handle it."
"Pardon?"
"Go with him to the site of the Grace coming-of-age rite."
As I blinked, the Grand Duke explained further.
"Deep in the snow mountains, at the heart of the raging blizzard, lies an unfrozen spring. Where the ancestor left his beloved weapon."
Unfrozen spring.
Something clicked. Too soon for certainty, so I listened quietly.
"Endure half a day in the blizzard. That's the Grace rite of passage. But I seek more."
"More...?"
"The spring's center. Where the founder planted his cherished blade."
The Grand Duke declared.
"I wish for Rak to set foot there, to draw the founder's weapon with his own hands."
Rak held his breath.
The Grand Duke smiled wryly, relaxing his shoulders.
"Of course, it's premature now. No Grace has done it. But someday, one will. And I believe it'll be Rak."
"...You seem certain."
"Haha."
The Grand Duke laughed aloud at my words.
"I have to be. You've seen it too, haven't you?"
"......"
"This boy has talent. Talent none in our line ever had. And..."
After a pause, the Grand Duke spoke.
"The potential to reach superhuman heights."
His gaze was sharp.
His voice brimmed with conviction.
"I let a bit slip earlier, but what I ask is for you to go near the spring with him... observe the blizzard together, and think it through. How to pierce the blizzard encircling the spring and reach its heart."
He shrugged.
"You'll teach him much at Aphria anyway. What's one more thing?"
"Not in the curriculum, I imagine."
"That's why it's a request."
I let out a chuckle.
"Asking for a special lecture?"
"Need lecture fees? Name your price."
I shook my head.
No intent to charge. It wasn't in the academy curriculum... but even without his words, I'd planned to teach it someday.
'Unfrozen spring, and a blizzard.'
I smiled inwardly.
Obvious what it was.
'In a way, I've already given him a head start.'
Coincidentally, Rak had experienced something similar—at the semester's start, during class placement exams.
'That's the Mana Spring.'
How to endure in the Mana Spring.
How to weather the Mana Storm's eye.
'In other words...'
It's like surviving a Mana Realm. One of the things I'd teach him eventually.
"Doesn't sound too hard."
"...Hoo."
The Grand Duke smiled with interest.
"Confident tone."
"Picked up a few things on my travels."
"Haha."
The Grand Duke grinned in satisfaction and extended his hand. A true warrior's hand—callused and scarred.
"Looking forward to it, Professor."
I clasped it.
'This guy's easy to talk to.'
We faced each other, smiling.
"Mm..."
Rak eyed me with deep worry, but that wasn't my concern.
3.
「By the way, Rak.」
「A distinguished guest is staying at White Night Castle.」
「Head to the training grounds early morning—you'll meet him. Request a spar. Seems like a man with much to teach.」
The banquet ended early morning.
Rak headed to the arena, Lania following behind.
"Won't you sleep more, Professor?"
"Eyes pop open at dawn."
"Pardon?"
"Just a habit. Nothing else to do, so I'll watch your training. Curious about this guest too."
Professor doesn't sleep much in the mornings.
Rak walked on silently, thinking that. The warriors' training grounds weren't far from White Night Castle.
Clang!
The clash of steel rang out.
A short distance from White Night Castle, in a corner of the snow mountains, the training grounds buzzed with warriors.
"Hup!"
Early morning in the snow mountains.
Warriors swung their weapons in the crisp air, sweat beading on their muscles.
"Next."
A voice rang out amid the warriors.
"Next."
The voice echoed with the metallic clang.
Each ring—clang—sent another warrior crumpling to the ground. Amid the fallen, one man emerged.
"Next."
Untamed wild hair.
A scarred face and piercing eyes proclaimed his survival through countless battlefields.
"Anyone else?"
A burly, rugged middle-aged man.
In his hand, a sheathed sword. The emblem etched on the scabbard told Rak who he was.
Ashes of a domain, now pointing to one swordsman alone.
"Sword Demon, Draka..."
Rak murmured unwittingly.
The Sword Demon turned at the sound. His sharp gaze fixed on Rak.
"Guh..."
Rak swallowed dryly.
Beast-like eyes. Just meeting them choked his breath.
"You."
Draka raised his arm.
Pointed a finger at Rak.
"Who the hell are you, staring like that?"
No, not him.
Rak looked again where the finger pointed—behind him.
'...Professor?'
Professor Lania stood there, arms crossed, face twisted like she'd bitten a bug as she glared at Draka. Contempt oozed from her eyes.
"Got a problem with me?"
Draka asked.
Lania scoffed.
"Nah."
Then she spat it out.
"Just thought you look fucking ugly."
Rak's face drained pale.
Author's Note Draka is a handsome middle-aged man. He doesn't look that ugly! *A bit late, sorry! ㅠㅠ