Chapter 20
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: Border (3)
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Tae-jin, running hard to keep up with Pavilion, tossed out a question.
"Where are we headed right now?"
"Helio. We're going to Helio!"
"Even if you say that, I have no idea where it is!"
"Just keep running for now! We can't make it there before tonight anyway. We'll run as far as we can until it feels safe!"
Pavilion's voice brimmed with its usual energy, but beneath it lurked clear worry for old man Richer's condition.
Tae-jin cast Weight Reduction Magic on everyone, cutting their body weights by more than half.
Pavilion and Oboe stumbled at first, unaccustomed to their suddenly lighter bodies—they slipped on the ground or tangled their feet.
But after a few minutes of running, they adapted quickly, whistling in amazement as they went.
"So this is what it feels like to be as light as a feather? Incredible!"
"Run as much as you can while you can! I don't know how long I can keep the magic up while running!"
The rabbit beastkin's distinctive reverse-jointed ankles sprang off the ground like elastic-loaded springs. Dirt flew violently wherever Pavilion's feet landed, forcing Tae-jin and Oboe to run alongside rather than directly behind him.
Pavilion was a giant, nearly a full head taller than an average person, boasting stamina far tougher than any human of similar build.
Even with old man Richer slung on his back and his massive pack shifted to the front, he bounded forward lighter than Oboe or Tae-jin could manage.
His running prowess was so impressive that he had to slow down now and then to match the others.
Every time old man Richer's head lolled limply on Pavilion's back, Tae-jin felt a wave of anxiety.
Logically speaking, the odds of Richer's condition worsening were low. He'd anticipated everything after casting his spell, even designating who would carry his bag and who would carry him.
Tae-jin couldn't fathom exactly how he'd pulled off the magic, but it was clear Richer was no stranger to situations like this.
Still, that wasn't enough to ease his mind.
The bloodstains from Richer's nose and eyes had been washed away by the rain, but their vivid memory stabbed deep into Tae-jin's chest.
After running until his heart felt like it might burst, Oboe slipped and fell on the slick ground from the rain. At last, Pavilion slowed to a stop.
"They won't catch up this far. Even if the border guards do follow, we're too distant for them to single us out and interrogate us. Let's take a short break."
Tae-jin immediately spread out a blanket and laid old man Richer on it. His breathing was steady, and though soaked by the rain, Pavilion's body heat had kept him warm.
But Richer still showed no signs of waking.
A flood of thoughts raced through Tae-jin's mind.
Was this why he struggled so much with multi-casting and never flaunted any standout specialties despite his magical prowess?
The mana he'd unleashed earlier, lifting the entire ground, was a feat no mage Tae-jin had ever seen.
What secret power had old man Richer been hiding?
"Quit pretending you're out cold and get up already. Before I zap you with a shock."
Tae-jin spat the words without meaning them, but the old man didn't stir. For the first time in a while, Tae-jin studied Richer's face closely.
His hair, once a vivid brown when they first met, was now nearly half white. The already plentiful wrinkles around his eyes had deepened and multiplied.
'Hey, old man, instead of griping about crow's feet, maybe smile less. Why do you grin like that every day, weightless even in old age?'
With that thought, Tae-jin busily massaged Richer's limbs.
Oboe did the same. After all, Richer had saved his life by lifting the ground out from under him.
"Hey, Tae-jin. What exactly is Richer?"
Pavilion spoke while stringing a tarp between tree branches and starting a fire, not caring if the smoke stained it.
"Just a cranky old bachelor mage. Why?"
"I've seen plenty of mages. Before I devoted this body to free trade, I made my living with muscle. But no mage has ever shown power like that."
"Made your living with muscle? You were a mercenary?"
"Yeah. Ate my share of steel for a few years."
It suited him perfectly—that massive frame, the straight scar running from under his eye to his jaw.
"What about other mercenary mages?"
"When fights broke out, they'd hang back, hurling fireballs or ice shards, maybe whipping up some wind if needed."
"That's it?"
"Outside combat, it'd be supplying drinking water or lighting fires. Even that much earned respect anywhere. But a mage strong enough to lift the ground? Never seen it. Heard of it... Ah, damn."
Pavilion trailed off, as if something clicked, and turned his head away.
"What?"
"Ah, this... might be more than we bargained for. Not my place to say, since we owe you a debt."
"What is it? Tell me."
"Don't ask me. Ask your master yourself. It's not certain, and it's not my story to tell."
Pavilion clamped his mouth shut, finished building the fire, moved old man Richer closer to it, and began massaging his limbs.
About five minutes of rubbing later, Richer's eyelids fluttered open. He'd finally come to.
"Ahem... ahem..."
"Feeling a bit more with it?"
"Tae-jin... I have... ugh... one last thing to tell you..."
A chill ran through Tae-jin. Last thing? That wasn't something this old man should be saying.
Was the magical backlash worse than thought? What the hell had he done to dig out Oboe?
"What? What? You don't look good at all."
"Ugh... My time... isn't much..."
Tae-jin's heart plummeted. Tears welled up, his throat tightened, but he fought them back desperately, refusing to show it.
"What's wrong, old man? Come on, shake it off like always and get up!"
But Richer's voice remained low and sunken. Phlegm rattled in his throat—or maybe his lungs were damaged—his words accompanied by constant growling.
"Listen carefully when I speak... Can't repeat myself... urgh."
"What? What! If you're not well, shut up and stay still!"
"No. Must say it now. First, in my bag... blue pouch... white pills inside. Hand one over."
Rummaging through the bag, Tae-jin found a blue pouch half the size of his palm filled with white pills.
"Here! And?"
"You clueless fool... water skin too. Ugh."
Tae-jin handed over the water skin. With labored movements, Richer swallowed the pill with water.
"Next... move me closer to the fire... ugh. Just a bit."
Pavilion hoisted Richer and shifted him nearer the flames. Richer continued.
"Finally, Tae-jin. Listen well. I know you've got a chocolate bar in your bag's small pocket. Give it here, and dry my clothes with magic... not too hot..."
Tae-jin shot to his feet and kicked old man Richer in the side.
An hour or two later, old man Richer sat up with a perfectly fine expression.
Oboe bowed repeatedly to his lifesaver, while Pavilion eyed Richer with an awkward, conflicted look.
"You okay now?"
"Me? Always fine."
"Earlier you were totally out of it, had to be carried? Nosebleed like a faucet."
"Thing is, you guys were too slow. Figured Pavilion carrying me would be faster than me running myself. Kinda awkward to hop down."
Richer chuckled sheepishly, and the rabbit beastkin looked miffed.
Whatever nonsense the old man spouted, Oboe looked ready to kowtow and weep in gratitude.
"Mage sir, Mage sir. You saved my life. Thank you so much. When I was buried under that dirt, I thought I was done for."
"Aw, cut it out. The decision to save you was my disciple's and Pavilion's."
"Thanks, Pavilion. Thank you, Sir Tae-jin."
As Tae-jin waved it off awkwardly, Richer added,
"Of course, I did fend off the charging soldiers and lift the dirt to pull you out."
The old man had a habit of tacking on unnecessary lines.
The four ate a late lunch cum early dinner, chatting lightly. Most of the talk was Oboe's emotional reflections and praises for the group.
Once they'd finished eating and their clothes had dried a bit, loosening their bodies, Tae-jin posed a question to Richer.
A topic that had nagged at him relentlessly, one he had to ask.
"Old man. What was that thing you showed us earlier?"
"What thing?"
"You know, lifting up the whole chunk of earth."
"That? You could lift a bit of dirt yourself."
Richer played dumb, deflecting. No one was buying it.
"Sure, I can lift dirt. But I've never seen a mage output that kind of power."
"To call yourself a master, you gotta handle at least that much. Can't claim the title if your disciple catches up with no secrets left, right?"
"Old man, I'm serious here. Pavilion seemed to suspect something too. What was it?"
Richer looked up at Pavilion. Unable to meet his eyes squarely, Pavilion glanced away cautiously.
Only then did Richer let out a sigh.