Chapter 158
Chapter 158
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 158
Chapter Title: Gravekeeper of the Spirit Tomb (3)
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"Huh? Haven't seen that sword before? Where'd you pick it up?"
The first to react when Theo returned was Wellington.
Theo glanced down at himself without a second thought, then jolted in surprise.
A drake blade hung on his back, the Moonblade and Dragon Slayer at his left hip, and the Spirit Tomb Sword at his right.
He had four swords in total.
'No doubt it looks suspicious.'
Theo brushed off the question about the Spirit Tomb Sword and looked around for the others.
"Lord Arin woke up just a bit ago, so Selphard and Ray both headed that way."
"Senior Arin?"
Theo hurried off in that direction.
* * *
"...Is this my first time seeing someone hurt? Why's everyone crowding around?"
Arin startled awake to find a throng of people by her bedside.
Selphard asked with a grave look in his eyes.
"Your body?"
"Fine."
「For real? No cap?」
「...Where'd you pick up that kinda talk?」
「The jamminis at the orphanage say it.」
「Don't throw around that kinda slang with your old mug. Keeps startling me, thinking of the young'uns.」
「Anyway, you really okay?」
Arin knew exactly why Selphard was double-checking her condition via telepathy, so she replied the same way.
「For real.」
「The madness didn't go berserk, so don't worry.」
Selphard nodded without pressing further.
Descendants of the Mad Dragon Society.
For those burdened with the stigma of rebels' seed, they had to confirm it over and over.
Fortunately, no telltale madness gleamed in Arin's eyes.
A true blessing.
As Selphard let out a sigh of relief, Doryong and the others, including Theo, stopped by and left.
The next day, Cassandra woke without issue as well.
She had almost no memory of the Magic Empress, though, and couldn't recall the events of the past few days.
Worried about undetected aftereffects, they stayed at the manor a few more days.
The group rested a full ten days longer before resuming their journey.
Now, alongside Theo's original crew, they included Cassandra, Doryong, and Wellington—a decent-sized party.
"First, we'll pass through Dravin City and head to the White Tower."
Pwooo!
The magitrain roared to life amid the hiss of steam engines.
Clack-clack, clack-clack—
Seated in first class, Doryong spread out a map and pointed to their destination.
The White Tower.
A familiar name.
It lay on the border between Ragnar and Troyvan, the site of fierce clashes in the current Northern War.
But it was originally more famous as an ancient ruin.
"Right now, both sides are just locked in pointless attrition at the White Tower. They're sacrificing over a hundred men just to claim a scrap of land less than five kilometers wide... It's hell itself."
Ray gently covered young Cassandra's ears with earplugs so she wouldn't get scared.
Selphard asked,
"I've heard the forces massing at the White Tower are massive."
"Not just the White Dragon Knights or Black Iron Legion—the Swordblade Order's been deployed to the front lines on the Family Head's orders, and the Azureblade Guard's due out soon too."
"...That many?"
If the White Dragon Knights and Black Iron Legion were the shock troops proclaiming Ragnar's might to the world,
Then the Swordblade Order and Azureblade Guard were the guardian deities upholding Ragnar's security and order.
The Swordblade Order consisted of elites handpicked from each unit to hold the Winterlands,
While the Azureblade Guard were shadows who shadowed the Family Head and obeyed only his commands.
Their involvement meant Ragnar was staking everything on this war.
"Honestly, I don't get it. Sure, Troyvan's made a name in the east, but do they really see them as such a threat that we'd...?"
"Not quite that serious."
"Then why?"
"The real issue is their allies."
Doryong's eyes darkened coldly.
Selphard clamped his lips shut.
He was reminded of the factions they'd encountered fleeing the manor.
"Fine, wandering knights or One-Sword Society riffraff—we can overlook that. Zealots are rootless anyway, so they latch on. But the Far East sorcerers? The beast cubs from the southern jungles?"
"Sorcerers" derided the Magic Tower, "beasts" the beastkin frontlines.
All elector families with emperor-nominating rights, like Ragnar or Troyvan.
"The prairie milkmaids out west, the cannibals who'd still be inbredding in the highlands without us, the dirt-eaters from the Great Plains—all of 'em! Just waiting for Ragnar to stumble."
The Silkroad Brotherhood of the western plains, the Native Protection Agency of the southwest highlands, the Gentlemen’s Guild dominating the far southern plains.
Selphard, Arin, and Ray all felt choked.
So many forces hostile to Ragnar.
Wasn't this turning the whole world against them?
'It's the inevitable progression.'
Theo alone listened calmly.
『What a mess.』
'You could say Ragnar's sown seeds everywhere.'
Theo gave a wry smile at Lordbrock's scolding.
'Not just a little karma from centuries past. This blew it all up.'
Ragnar never compromised.
Conflict?
Crush it with force.
Clash?
Break it with might.
Rebellion followed, of course—but Ragnar scorched them so they'd never rise again.
Other powers resented Ragnar but feared them, swallowing grudges.
A millennium of that. A thousand years.
Enough for prejudices to stack into truth.
To the world, the "North" was the devil's land to never touch.
『Troyvan's properly stirred the pot, eh.』
'Yes. For now, they're just aiding them...'
『Show more weakness, and they'll go for the throat?』
'So Winterlord resolved to crush Troyvan utterly, leaving no such delusions.'
『Classic Ragnar. Or just faithful to the food chain?』
Does a beast pack pity a weakening alpha?
No—they see an opening to kill.
The alpha must flash overwhelming power to deter challenges.
"We can't let that stand. Time to uproot every weed. That's how Ragnar's always proven itself."
Even Doryong, usually affable, was pure Ragnar.
No mercy for those baring fangs.
"......"
"......"
"......"
Selphard, Arin, and Ray fell silent in the stifling air.
Wellington, who knew it all, still trembled faintly.
The blaze was spiraling out of control.
And at the White Tower,
It'd rage even fiercer.
"All scattered forces are converging on the White Tower. That's where."
Doryong's eyes blazed.
"Troyvan's neck snaps—and Ragnar's hegemony completes."
Theo watched, unable to voice his thoughts.
'No, Doryong. Troyvan's just the beginning.'
* * *
『Human-perceived time is an absolute, infinitely forward-rushing straight line. That's why tenses like past, present, future—and temporal aspects—arose. But unlike what you've long held as truth...』
The North was vast; even the magitrain took days to reach the White Tower.
Plenty of idle time in the air.
Theo spent most studying time magic basics.
Progress was swift.
The Magic Empress's system was rock-solid, and Lordbrock an exceptional teacher.
Unlike swordplay, it hooked him differently—easy to focus.
『Lost in ecstasy again? No sense of timing.』
Lordbrock enjoyed teaching too.
Started as a lark, ready to quit if he didn't get it.
But Theo grasped it so well, she was stunned.
Was this musclehead really Ragnar?
Her biggest shock: how easily Theo entered ecstasy.
Conscious and unconscious merged, reason and instinct blended, self and other dissolved.
In that state, scattered unconscious knowledge networked; neural pathways strengthened, sparking creativity.
The sensation was unforgettable.
Infinite power in hand.
'It grants new perspectives, spiraling upward. But too frequent isn't good.'
Creativity blooms from linking new knowledge.
But excess ecstasy leaves no room to accumulate, capping creativity.
The euphoria lingers, though—leading to addiction.
Then comes madness.
Theo teetered right at that threshold.
'Fine now, blending magic and swordplay. But curb it awhile.'
Lordbrock wouldn't let a prized companion waste away like the last chooser.
-Next stop, Dravin City. Dravin City. Passengers disembarking...
Theo opened his eyes as they neared the station.
To reach the White Tower, they had to transfer here.
『Companion.』
'Yes. I know. Don't worry.'
『Heh. That covers my fee nicely.』
But before transferring, Theo had a detour.
He fingered the note in his pocket.
One of the imperial secret vaults lay in this city.
* * *
"Want to sightsee the city a bit?"
"Yes. The White Tower train's five hours off, so I'll check it out quick and be back."
Theo answered Doryong's question calmly.
Sounded like a country bumpkin lost in his first big city.
Pfft!
Doryong just chuckled knowingly.
As if to say, *I know you're up to something.*
Theo flinched but brazened it out.
"Won't be late."
"Fair enough. Seeing the world builds perspective. But it's risky solo—go with Ray and Wellington."
Theo wanted to go alone but barked agreement given the times.
"Yes, sir!"
"Good. I've got business here too, so meet back at this platform in four hours sharp."
Doryong's errand?
Theo puzzled briefly, then thanked him and left the platform.
Wellington and Ray trailed like ducklings.
"Ugh! Stuck in battles forever, finally hitting civilization—feels liberating!"
Wellington seemed thrilled.
"Doryong been drilling you through hellholes?"
"...Ahem! Don't stir discord in our priest-knight bond with nonsense."
"Right."
"No comment."
Wellington spread his arms wide, beaming.
"Sun's warm! Breeze cool! Sky clear! Perfect day out! So, where to? Dravin's famous for shopping, I hear."
Ray's ears perked at "shopping."
Perfect timing—she wanted cute new clothes for a mood boost.
"We'll shop, but first, a stop."
"Ah, right—my bad. Gotta hit that spot first."
"Yeah, yeah."
"...?"
Ray nodded along to Wellington's cryptic words.
Theo blinked.
He'd never mentioned the imperial vault...
Yet Ray seemed in the know, leaving him tongue-tied.
He just flapped his lips like a goldfish.
Wellington finally clocked it.
"Huh? Thought we were hitting the open [High Theodore] shop here?"
"...!?"
Mother's shop here?
Theo's eyes went wide.