Chapter 133
Chapter 133
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 133
Chapter Title: Foul-Mouthed People (3)
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"What happened?"
"Nothing much."
Draka gave a curt reply to his subordinate's question.
He wasn't in the mood for long explanations. Reading the room, his subordinate didn't press further.
'Wasted emotions for nothing.'
It was truly pointless.
Something he could've just ignored, yet he'd reacted anyway. He didn't know why. For some reason, he'd felt the urge to fire back.
'Come to think of it, the Ashen Mage was the same.'
That insolent mage had been just like her.
Every casual remark he tossed out grated on the nerves. Even knowing Draka's past, he was the only one bold enough to mock his family and origins to his face. And now, one more had joined that list.
-A vagrant who lost his fief, his house, and his country dares talk about dignity...
-Isn't that just spitting in your own face?
The impudent girl's face flashed before his eyes as she spouted her nonsense. Draka frowned.
"The Trias family took in an adopted daughter, didn't they?"
"Yes, I heard it was this spring. They originally raised her as a disciple... but made her an adopted daughter around the time of the Ashen Mage's retirement."
"Her name?"
"Lania. Lania van Trias."
Lania van Trias.
Draka mulled over the name.
"Any other information?"
"She's currently an assistant professor at Aphria Academy. We'll need to dig deeper for details."
"Investigate her."
His subordinate tilted his head at Draka's order.
Draka was typically detached. He rarely showed interest in others.
"Someone you're interested in?"
"There's something off."
"...Pardon?"
"Even if she's from the same house as that insolent bastard... when I drew my sword, she didn't even blink. Doesn't that strike you as strange?"
He hadn't planned to go that far.
Just a light scare, so he'd drawn his blade. Those who knew who he was were extremely wary when he unsheathed it.
But that girl?
-Go ahead if you can.
Even knowing who he was, she hadn't shown fear—instead, she'd taunted him. She'd wagged her finger, gathered mana, and assumed a fighting stance, as if saying, "Bring it."
"She even challenged me. All I could do was laugh. You think that's normal?"
"...That's odd."
"Exactly. It's odd."
Her oddity made him want to test her strength.
In the end, an interloper had interrupted before he could, but... he'd gotten a good look at her eyes.
'Eyes without a hint of fear.'
It wasn't bravado. They held the calm confidence of someone assured in their power. Just looking into them told him plenty.
About her strength, her personality... maybe even her life.
Draka had glimpsed the girl's eyes and gauged her roughly. She was no ordinary girl. Not by a long shot.
'She could be a variable.'
To ensure the plan succeeded, he had to eliminate variables—no matter how small. Draka gave the order to his subordinate.
"Dig into her background. She might cause trouble."
"Understood."
The subordinate nodded and asked,
"What if she does interfere?"
"What else?"
Draka tapped the hilt of his sword with a thud.
"I'll kill her."
"...That could escalate things with the Ashen Mage."
"That's not your concern."
It's mine to handle.
With that, Draka quickened his pace. His steps led to a small chapel on the northern frontier. Someone awaited him there.
"What did the Delrohim Order say?"
"They're cooperating. The cardinal promised support from Delrohim's spear and shield, plus the guardian knights. They should have arrived by now."
"Good. That's how it should be."
Draka nodded.
"I've devoted most of my life to it. The Delrohim Order has given even more—centuries of searching for it since long ago."
His footprints stretched long across the snow.
How far had he walked when a shabby old church came into view? Before it stood holy knights in gleaming armor, lined up. Spotting Draka, they parted to clear a path.
"...What do you mean?"
His subordinate asked.
Draka answered.
"A holy relic capable of miracles beyond providence."
Without pausing, Draka hooked his finger on the church door's latch.
"The ancient holy grail, lost centuries ago. The vessel that holds the gods' power—and the sacrifice offered to them."
The door creaked open. Someone stood beyond—an elderly man in pristine white robes. He turned to Draka.
"They wouldn't want to miss out on the first holy relic that makes all miracles possible either."
He was speaking to his subordinate, but Draka didn't lower his voice. As if making sure the old man heard, he raised it.
"Isn't that right, Cardinal?"
Draka's voice echoed through the rundown church. The man he'd addressed, hands clasped behind his back, spoke.
"Haha, that's true enough, but..."
Delrohim's Cardinal, Berdikt.
The elderly man chuckled softly.
"I just hope the devout follower of Delrohim, Duke Draka, gets what he desires."
"Thanks for saying that."
"You've served Delrohim in so many ways. Service shouldn't come with expectations, but... surely Delrohim cherishes you too. That's why He's allowed such a miracle."
"...A miracle."
"Yes, isn't it truly a miracle?"
Berdikt narrowed his eyes.
"To find the resting place of the first saintess."
He let out a gentle smile.
"Could you tell me the details?"
His snakelike eyes fixed on Draka.
Not eyes befitting a cardinal, at any rate. Draka exhaled shortly.
"Let's sit first. This'll take a while."
This time, he'd see it through to the end.
To do that, he'd pull in every ally he could—even if it was an inscrutable old churchman.
2.
"Fuck, this feels so damn grimy."
I yanked the wooden box from my robe and slammed it on the table. It was sealed in multiple layers, but creepy was still creepy.
'Feels like I'm lugging around a rotting corpse.'
What was inside the box.
Thinking of the apostate's black arm, I clicked my tongue. Cardi had said it was necessary, so I carried it... but I really wanted to keep this thing away from me as much as possible.
"This is Delrohim's arm?"
Cardi had said something like that.
And from what I remembered, Delrohim... was the church's name for the stars. They worshipped the stars as gods.
'So literally, the arm of the star.'
I cracked open the box for a peek.
"No matter how I look at it, doesn't seem right."
This looks more like the Demon King's arm, honestly.
With that thought, I snapped the box shut. Didn't want to stare at it long.
"Hoo..."
I leaned back, tilting my head. The ceiling came into view.
The room I'd been assigned was pretty spacious. The warriors had prepared it specially, I heard. Apparently one of the best even in White Night Castle.
'This ceiling's annoyingly white.'
Maybe because it's White Night Castle—can't stand anything not white? Staring at the gleaming ceiling, I let out a short breath.
"...What the hell am I even doing?"
My foul mood made everything irritating. I hadn't been like this when I first arrived in the north.
'The cause of my bad mood.'
Finding it wasn't hard.
'Sword Ghost Draka.'
That beast playing at being human.
His mug came to mind, and anger flared up for no reason.
'Should've clocked him right there.'
I'd created an opening.
Made him draw first—gave me justification for self-defense.
'Perfect setup.'
But some oblivious idiot had butted in, wasting my perfect taunt. Taunts have to be fresh. A used one wouldn't land the same.
'How to rile him up next time.'
New taunt.
Words he couldn't ignore.
Ways to control his emotions with every syllable.
I tried picturing it, but nothing came easily. Rubbing my temples, I groaned.
'...Need someone with a real sharp tongue to teach me.'
I needed a mentor.
"...Ah."
That's when it hit me.
A figure flashed in my mind. I reached into my robe. After a bit of fumbling, I grabbed a letter.
Someone with a sharp tongue.
Every word like a dagger.
Only one person came to mind.
'Princess Luriel.'
I scribbled a line on the paper. Asking if she had time. The reply came right away.
「Busy day to day, not much leisure. But for you, Professor, I can spare a moment. What's this about?」
I pondered briefly, then wrote.
-How do I craft words the opponent can't brush off—phrases that rile them up with every word?
No immediate reply this time.
Well, even for Princess Luriel... was the question too out of left field? As I sighed,
「Not a difficult matter.」
The reply arrived.
I focused on the words appearing on the paper.
「Seems you need taunts to create justification. Listen well, Professor. Remember just two things when provoking.」
Two things?
「One. State the obvious as if it's not.」
「Plant doubt in them. Make them reflexively want to refute. Humans are inherently petty creatures. They have an innate urge to flaunt their knowledge.」
「Scratch that itch. Draw out a reaction.」
「Once you induce a reaction, you're halfway there. It means they've already been hooked by your words.」
"Oh..."
「Two. Mix truth and lies.」
「Better if linked to the first. Layer untrue assumptions on facts. Craft sentences that sound 'plausible.' False plausibility stirs the urge to rebut.」
「Nonsense can be ignored, but words laced with truth are hard to dismiss.」
Indeed.
I nodded.
「Beyond this, more info on the target makes it easier, of course. But you know the basics, so no need to belabor.」
「Using those two, a simple example would be... like this.」
The writing paused.
Soon, a long paragraph appeared.
「You think yourself normal, but that's a delusion. You're abnormal. A lunatic like me. Or rather, a madwoman who believes she's sane. My deepest condolences to your students receiving your 'guidance.'」
「Nonsense laced with truth. How's that?」
My brow furrowed involuntarily.
'What bullshit is this?'
I wrote back immediately.
-That's all lies?
「See? Works perfectly.」
-No, it's pure lies. Just nonsense?
「Sounds like it hit a nerve.」
What the hell is this princess on about?
「Anyway, hope the advice helps.」
「I'll end it here. Good luck.」
Before I could retort, Princess Luriel cut off the conversation. I stared holes into the paper with a bizarre expression.
"It's really not."
The example was off-base, at least.
But the advice rang true somehow. Pulling out what I needed, I closed the letter.
"Hmm..."
The example was iffy, but it helped. Felt a bit lighter inside.
"...Back to work."
I stood with a short exhale.
Before personal errands, I had official business—a special lecture requested by a parent, no less.
'Where's Rak's room again?'
I racked my brain and stepped into the hall.
3.
"...Gasp!"
He bolted upright.
Rak jumped out of bed.
The hairs on his neck stood on end. A gut feeling that great peril loomed. He'd felt it often lately.
'A trial approaches!'
He didn't know what.
Rak closed his eyes and listened. The trial drew near—with the sound of footsteps.
Thud.
The crisp click of shoe heels.
Regular intervals. Rak strained his ears as the sound grew closer.
'These footsteps...'
As Rak pictured the owner in his mind—knock knock—the approaching trial rapped on his door.
-Rak, you there?
The trial called to him.
-Can you come out for a sec?
Cold sweat beaded as Rak held his breath.
Instinct screamed not to respond. But the world wouldn't side with him.
-Hm? Young Master Rak is inside.
A familiar voice from beyond the door.
The butler who'd served him since childhood.
'Sebas!'
Rak screamed silently.
-What, he's in there?
Caught. When caught, quick action is key.
Rak scrambled out of the room.
"I-I just woke up!"
"Oh, really?"
"Wh-what's going on?"
Lania answered Rak's question.
"Nothing big."
She smiled.
"Let's go hiking."
Author's Note
The First Princess who can't be left out when talking about foul-mouthed people.
*This week, planning to serialize on (Mon Tue Thu Fri Sun)!
This week's an exception, but barring issues, holidays likely (Mon/Thu).
Base is 5 uploads/week, but aiming to avoid every-other-day breaks.