Chapter 69
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 69
Chapter Title: Pursuit (2)
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Richer’s prediction was spot on. That evening, right after they entered the city and settled into an inn, a sharply dressed man followed them inside.
He gave a slight bow to Richer before addressing Tae-jin.
"Hello. Mr. Kim Tae-jin. As you’ve probably guessed, I’m with the Imperial Intelligence Bureau."
Best to respond with composure. No upside to looking weak.
"Hello. What’s this about?"
"I’ve come to request that you return to the Imperial capital."
Polite demeanor called for a by-the-book reply.
"I’m not an Imperial citizen. No nation on this continent can bind me. I entered with permission, and I see no reason to follow your request."
"No. There is a reason."
Wondering what flimsy excuse he’d trot out, Tae-jin shot back.
"A reason? What is it?"
"We received a tip that you possess information on mana cells."
The abrupt mention made Richer and Tae-jin freeze. They had to play it cool, no signs of rattled nerves. But their hearts hammered away.
"Mana cells? What are those?"
"That’s something your mentor, Mr. Richer, can explain precisely."
Richer put on a show of offense. They weren’t in each other’s chain of command, but any agent below deputy bureau chief outranked a War Mage—or so it went on paper. Retired or not, Richer opted for stiff formality.
"You’re being impertinent. Are you accusing me, a War Mage who’s served the Empire faithfully, of leaking classified arts to an otherworlder?"
"Not exactly, sir. There are other War Mages who could teach mana cells, aren’t there?"
"I’m half-tempted to fry you with a lightning bolt. Watch your tongue. Keep dancing around, and you won’t walk out of this table alive."
Richer growled. The agent kept his face straight. Sweat slicked his palms, though.
"The Intelligence Bureau is always grateful for War Mages’ service. No misunderstanding intended. This isn’t guesswork. We have a tip."
"What tip?"
"Straightforward. Otherworlder Kim Tae-jin can use mana cells. No word on who taught him."
No clue how they’d sniffed it out. Only the five in their group could possibly know. Even the coachman who’d ridden with them to Merka City was in the dark—he’d never witnessed it in action.
So one of them had slipped intel to the bureau on the sly?
"Who’s peddling that crap?"
"Can’t say. Protecting sources is bureau policy. Please understand."
Richer’s eyes bulged.
"Nonsense. Get lost."
"The bureau moves on imperial orders. You can’t compel me, sir."
"Not that. Come back tomorrow. As a War Mage, I won’t stand for mana cell leaks."
"This isn’t a matter to sleep on."
"Don’t fret. He’s my disciple, but if he knows mana cells, I’ll end him myself. Enemies of the Empire don’t get a pass from me."
Richer’s glare was murderous, his words incendiary. The agent looked thrown.
"You can’t just kill him outright."
"My call. I’ll interrogate tonight. Head out, no worries."
The agent wavered. Richer’s scowl sharpened.
"Why the stall? Disrespecting my life of service to the Empire?"
"Not at all, but we have our own constraints."
Richer unclasped the brooch from his collar and handed it over.
"Only portrait of my late wife. Hold onto it. Come tomorrow after breakfast for the interrogation. I’ll handle tonight myself."
Richer dug in hard, but it wasn’t an easy yes for the agent. Richer pressed again.
"Two options: Mock my devotion and die here, or return tomorrow for interrogation. Pick."
"...See you tomorrow."
The agent rose and exited the inn. The room fell deathly quiet.
Innkeeper had ears covered and bolted to his room from the bureau-War Mage talk. Smart move—nothing good came from eavesdropping.
Every patron in the hall fled outside. The inn had accidentally turned into a hushed conference room.
"Someone leaked mana cell info?"
Richer kicked off. The group shook their heads no.
Garam loved money but wouldn’t sell out the crew. Pavilion and Renata were no different. No chance they’d mingled with agents anyway.
Richer and Tae-jin lacked mind magic to verify.
Richer sighed.
"Two possibilities. One of us talked, or the Empire’s pinning it to chain you down. Let’s rule out the first and proceed."
"Situation’s veered off course."
"Yeah. Way graver. Tae-jin, escape no matter what."
"Why? Sounds more cut-and-dried now."
"Mana cell charge sticks, you’re War Mage trainee for sure. Frontlines as otherworlder? Maybe. But hear this."
Richer tapped the wooden table rhythmically, then murmured low.
"No War Mage has ever been happy. None ever will."
He stared Tae-jin down.
"Want happiness? Run."
Richer leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes.
Tae-jin had one reply.
"Guess I gotta haul ass."
Only one road left anyway.
But fleeing sans carriage? No dice. Shake pursuit meant holing up in the eastern woods.
Ditch ride comfort and flog the horses—even then, near half a day’s trek. On foot? Two or three days easy.
"Way to roll out by carriage?"
"Dunno. I can probably mute sound. Never tried on a moving one. You cover whole carriage in invis?"
"Area that size stationary? Sure. Moving? Dicey."
"What now. Pull it off."
Plan hinged on Richer muting noise, Tae-jin cloaking the carriage.
Tae-jin went solo invis to scout the gate. Their carriage plus three others parked there.
Luck held: horses still harnessed. Innkeeper should’ve stabled them, but panic stalled him.
No time to dawdle. City went dark, gates shut, no exit with the carriage.
Group retreated to second-floor rooms, drew curtains tight—no peeking in.
Tae-jin cast group invis—five at once meant slo-mo. They crept downstairs, breaths held.
Five piled in gingerly, curtains pulled. No view inside from out.
Pavilion muttered.
"Sneak past guards? Agents gotta be eyeing carriages."
"Hold up. Lemme scout."
Tae-jin nudged Richer.
"Solo I might miss some. Help out, old timer."
"On it."
Pair bowed heads, eyes shut. Senses soared skyward, combing streets from above.
Didn’t take long. Tae-jin whispered.
"Got ’em."
"One?"
"Nah, two. By the inn, propped on barrels. See the yellow long-hair woman? My tail. Tag-team."
Tae-jin swept the area thorough. Other pair watched their old inn.
"Two. Hang tight. I’ll handle."
"Knock out the pair on the opposite roof too."
"Piece of cake."
Richer fished a vial of clear liquid from his pocket, slathered a tiny needle.
"What’s that?"
"Gold for this spot."
Richer smirked, hopped off, cast stealth, vanished.
He returned in under five. Needle tip bore red flecks.
Wiped it clean with cloth, shut eyes again—rescanning outside.
"I’ll check guards. Go on my signal: cloak the carriage."
"Roger."
Eyes barely closed:
"Hit it now. Guards couldn’t care less about carriages."
"Gotcha. Gimme sec."
Whole moving carriage? Way tougher than five people.
Tae-jin pumped mana density inside via cell. Not overboard—passing out now would suck.
Richer got the boost too, handy for him.
"Leveled up nice. Density control too."
"Daily grind. Zip it, prep. I’m going."
Carriage blurred to haze. Richer silenced any leaks.
While mages strained, Pavilion eased to driver’s perch. Four horses stirred forward.
Knew sounds stayed trapped, hearts still thundered.