Chapter 32
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: The Visit
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The table.
The chairs.
The walls, the ceiling.
Everything was made of steel, in a dining hall so solid it was almost eerie.
In the middle of it all sat a young man with black hair tinged with red, who sliced off a large piece of steak.
He chewed and swallowed the hunk of meat, which dripped with fresh blood.
Then, he spoke softly.
“Laira, I am generous.”
“...Pardon?”
A complexion as pale as a corpse.
Dark circles sharp beneath his eyes.
Shoulders slumped listlessly.
The maid, Laira, who was waiting on him with a visibly exhausted expression, blinked at the young man’s words.
As if she had no idea what nonsense he was spouting.
“The fact that I haven't torn the personal handmaiden who didn't even know my brother had fled the Vlad family limb from limb is proof of that.”
“...?!”
“So, Laira, answer me.”
“Answer you, you say...”
“Dion, have you still not found him?”
“Th-that is...”
Her face grew even paler, and for a moment, she trembled like a leaf.
In the end, Laira prostrated herself on the floor.
“I’m so sorry. I-I’ve been searching, but all traces have been erased, and there’s too much false information...”
“False information?”
“Y-yes.”
A member of the Paljongyungma.
Laira explained to the Mad Demon, Ren Unlight, while shivering uncontrollably.
After discovering Dion was no longer at the Vlad estate, she had followed Ren’s orders and tracked his movements.
Frankly, it should have been an easy task.
Had it been just Dion and Parsha, it might have been different, but since they had fled with the entire dark elf tribe, perfectly erasing their tracks should have been impossible.
...At least, that’s how it should have been.
But the results of her pursuit were baffling.
Traces of the dark elves were left at all sorts of gates.
From gateway cities to subterranean cities and war cities, rumors of the dark elves’ migration had spread throughout Odobaekryeong.
Even for her, a personal handmaiden of the Unlight family, determining the truth of all that information in just over ten days was impossible.
“P-perhaps the Seventh Young Master has an accomplice...”
“And you call that an excuse?”
“Eek! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
After looking down at the prostrated Laira as if she were an insect, repeatedly bowing her head to the floor.
Ren lifted a foot.
*Crunch!*
“Hiek!”
It was just a light stomp.
But that alone was enough to horribly crush her wrist, the shattered bone jutting out from between the torn flesh.
He looked coldly at Laira, who convulsed but couldn't even scream, merely trembling.
Ren turned his knife back to his steak.
“You useless thing. Just finish serving me.”
“Y-yes!”
Perhaps relieved to have been forgiven with just this.
The maid scrambled to her feet, even with a broken arm, and resumed serving him as he finished his meal.
Ren thought coldly.
‘So, he has Awakened.’
He’d suddenly caused a ruckus with the servants and then vanished.
Ren sneered as he recalled Dion’s actions—unexpectedly killing the son of the Soma Lord and then disappearing with the dark elves.
No matter how great a Class he’d obtained, Dion was just a weakling who had only now Awakened and lacked any decent background. He could be crushed at any time.
He should have spent decades quietly building his strength, yet here he was, stirring up trouble, utterly oblivious to his station.
His foolishness was so absurd it was almost pitiful.
‘Run all you want, you foolish little brother. It won’t change your end.’
As a brother who shared half his blood, he felt it was his duty to personally snuff out his pathetic younger sibling’s life.
Thinking this calmly, Ren let a chilling smile grace his lips.
***
A shortage of purified water.
Deteriorating facilities.
The discontent of the populace.
A lack of talent.
Lords who governed domains faced many problems, but among them, the most common one was a given.
A lack of funds.
The more a domain developed and its population grew, the more the beast known as money became scarce.
Therefore, lords would go to any lengths to secure funding.
Whether by exploiting their people.
Or mobilizing their family’s power.
Or even…
...by hosting events like a Hunting Festival.
The Hunting Festival was one way to grow one’s talents without spending a massive amount of soul stones.
High-level Awakened Ones who had hit their growth limits might not be interested, but for those still growing, it was an event they would pay a great deal to attend.
That was why.
At the station of the Deformed City, where countless bridges and stairs intertwined in a complex mess.
Tucked away to one side was a domain with thick, spiraling outer walls, like a snail's shell.
The reason Goemokjang had so many visitors today was this.
“There are an unusual number of people at the Hunting Festival this time.”
“Well, it’s the 100th anniversary of Goemokjang’s founding. They issued twice the usual number of participation tickets, didn't they?”
“The problem is there’s a lot of riffraff, not just guests.”
“Trying to bribe their way into the Hunting Festival with a few soul stones. There are so many shameless people out there.”
Impoverished nobles, of course.
Talentless low-level Awakened Ones.
Even commoners with big dreams.
People of all stripes were pulling strings or trying to sneak their way into the Hunting Festival.
But the guards, accustomed to such things, politely welcomed the guests and turned away the uninvited, thoroughly securing the main gate.
They were so used to it that they were starting to feel bored.
...That is, until a rather special guest appeared.
“Hmm, this is a pretty interesting-looking domain.”
“It is certainly a rare design for a domain.”
“Even for you, Arsha?”
“Outer-shell domains have a small capacity, so they aren’t typically favored by nobles.”
“True enough.”
‘That mask...?’
‘...Could it be?’
A small, slender frame.
The high-quality attire unique to nobility.
And above all, the white half-mask.
The guards grew flustered upon seeing the famous figure, someone impossible not to recognize in the vicinity of the Deformed City.
Even the passersby reacted the same way.
The White-Masked Young Master.
The new star of the Deformed City, who had passed the notoriously brutal groom selection, earning fame by hunting bandits and wanted criminals, yet was so reclusive that sightings were rare.
Dion approached the unsettled guards at a leisurely pace.
“Hello, is this Goemokjang?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Good. It’s my first time here, so I was worried I’d gotten lost. Glad I found it in one go.”
“Are you perhaps here to participate in the Hunting Festival?”
“Yep, that’s right.”
“That is indeed an honor, but...”
“...I apologize, but our Goemokjang’s Hunting Festival is by reservation only. We cannot accept same-day registrations.”
The guards replied politely.
They were the kind of men who could turn away most nobles without a second thought, but...
That depended on who they were dealing with.
Facing the White-Masked Young Master, who was rumored to be from one of the Hundred Great Families, they had no choice but to be cautious.
Fortunately, their worries were for naught.
“I know.”
*Flick.*
“Ah, you already have participation tickets?”
“For someone like you, Young Master, to grace our domain’s Hunting Festival is a true honor.”
The guards’ expressions relaxed as they confirmed the two participation tickets the White-Masked Young Master presented.
Then, their eyes shifted to the boy’s companion.
“Is the other ticket for the person with you?”
“Yep, she’s my concubine.”
“I see...”
“You are certainly a man of great ambition.”
“...”
Though her face was veiled.
The boy wrapped his arm around the waist of a peerless beauty, whose slender figure alone was captivating.
The guards watched in admiration as the beauty, whatever her race, flinched, her smooth black skin twitching.
It wasn't just because they were impressed by his audacity—rejecting a marriage proposal from the Calamity Princess by claiming he had a fiancée, only to take a concubine.
A ticket to the Hunting Festival was by no means cheap.
They were amazed at the wealth it took to bring not even a wife, but a mere concubine, to the Hunting Festival.
“Please, enter. An attendant will guide you to the banquet hall.”
“Hmm. Just to be sure, you’re not going to give me a hard time for bringing too many mouths to feed, are you?”
“Haha, of course not. Why would we do that over a single concubine?”
As long as you had a ticket, you were an honored guest of Goemokjang, regardless of your status.
The White-Masked Young Master tilted his head at the bantering guards.
“Who said I only brought one concubine?”
“Pardon?”
“...?”
“Lucky.”
*Pounce!*
As if she had been waiting for his call.
A Lycanthrope girl with hair as wild as a hyena’s came running from behind.
Seeing the collar around the neck of Orr Kai, who was wagging her tail excitedly, the guards nodded.
“Ah, you brought a slave as we...ll...?”
...Or rather, they started to nod.
It wasn't unheard of for nobles to bring one or two high-class slaves as bodyguards, even if it was a waste of money.
But...
“Ratty, Froggy, Hammer, Coughy...”
“...???”
A Ratman with a kitchen knife.
A Frogfolk holding a plow.
A Nightmare with a large hammer on his back.
An elderly Kobold holding a spear, and so on.
The guards stared in shock as thirty-one slaves hesitantly stepped forward one by one at Dion’s call.
“W-wait a moment! Are you saying you’re bringing all these slaves inside?”
“So?”
“That’s ridiculous...!”
“No, it’s not.”
With a snap.
Dion snapped his fingers.
At his signal, the slaves cautiously brought out thirty-one participation tickets, and he showed them with a grin.
“You said it yourselves, didn’t you? Anyone with a participation ticket is an honored guest of Goemokjang, regardless of their status.”
“...!?!”
***
And so…
After a slight commotion.
Dion and Arsha eventually entered Goemokjang with the slaves.
It was only natural.
Each of the exactly 200 tickets issued for the Goemokjang Hunting Festival was worth over ten million Crutal.
Anyone who brought one, even a slave, was a guest.
...It was just that no one had ever done something so foolish as to practically throw away hundreds of millions of Crutal.
That was why.
In the banquet hall, laden with all kinds of food.
The other participants gathered there began to whisper as they watched them.
‘I see, so those are the famous White-Masked Young Master’s slave soldiers.’
‘I heard they’re all high-class slaves who are also Awakened Ones.’
‘To procure over thirty such high-class slaves... was the rumor about him being from one of the Hundred Great Families true?’
‘Still, to bring a mere concubine and slaves to the Hunting Festival... he must be drowning in money.’
Curiosity, jealousy, greed, wariness.
The participants watched them with all sorts of emotions in their eyes.
Unlike the already famous White-Masked Young Master, most of the participants in this Hunting Festival were either still-growing prodigies or low-level Awakened Ones.
Under the barrage of these complicated stares, the slaves grew tense and watched their surroundings nervously, but...
Dion, the one receiving the most attention, spoke nonchalantly.
“Don’t worry about them. Everyone, eat as much as you want.”
“Chik? As much as we want, you say?”
“Yeah, this is all included in the participation fee anyway. It’d be a waste not to eat.”
“Ribbit, is that so...?”
Perhaps overwhelmed by the atmosphere of the banquet hall, the slaves hesitated, glancing at each other even after hearing Dion’s words.
But that lasted only a moment.
As the Lycanthrope girl rushed to the table laden with food, the other slaves scrambled to follow her.
While the slaves, now drawing attention for a different reason as they devoured the food, created a scene.
A rabbit-eared boy carrying a lute.
Naru, spoke with a blank expression.
“Why exactly am I here...?”
“It’s a simple token of my gratitude.”
“Gratitude?”
“For getting me participation tickets that matched our numbers.”
“That wasn’t too difficult, mobilizing the power of our Guild.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
Dion nodded and smiled brightly.
“—including the part about forging participation tickets.”
“...Pardon?”
“In that sense, I’m doubly grateful you got me the ‘real’ tickets.”
“...”
It would have been quite a predicament if some of the tickets had turned out to be fakes after coming all this way.
The masked boy said with a grin.
Looking at his client, who had clearly brought him along as a contingency, Naru swallowed dryly and thought.
He was glad he’d torn up all the counterfeit tickets his guild members had brought him.