Chapter 158
Chapter 158
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 158
Chapter Title: Villain's Squad #1
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When I'm feeling down, I often go for a walk.
Rather than sitting still and delving into the cave of my mind, just walking around, seeing people pass by, and taking in the scenery tends to lift my spirits a bit.
Aimless steps.
I hadn't set a destination, but before I knew it, a familiar street came into view, and I found myself heading there without realizing.
"Comrade, long time no see! How have you been?"
Marmar, who had been prettily tending to the garden, spotted me and waved happily. Her soil-stained gloves were full of small tree saplings.
I asked her.
"Were you planting trees?"
"By this time next year, flowers will bloom here! Oh, Gargarr, dig a bit more over there too!"
At Marmar's command, the imp Gargarr with honey-colored hair started energetically digging into the flower bed with the sapling spade in her hand.
"Heehee, live burial...! Rock...!"
Gargarr was a mad imp like Sir Peltor the black mage of the Sage Council, incapable of normal thought or speech. But Marmar seemed to manage her well enough.
"Looks like you're doing fine."
As I said that, I quickly scanned around Marmar.
I recalled performing a makeshift baptism on her not long ago and wondered if anything had changed. But nothing seemed out of the ordinary; she was just living normally.
"The other imps aren't bullying you or anything, right?"
"Nope! Now they all listen to me!"
After acquiring the building, Marmar had gathered other stray imps, providing them shelter and food.
But the imps, far from being grateful, had plotted to drive her out and exploit her.
I'd scolded them harshly, but such issues could arise again, so I decided to check in periodically like an inspection tour, getting updates on Marmar's progress.
A quick glance showed the messy flower beds and building had been neatly restored. They even looked more splendid than before.
The weathered exterior walls had been painted, making it look quite presentable.
Scrape, scrape.
A blue-haired imp—probably Purpur? Purpur was painting the building walls, her face smeared with paint and pigment, so I asked.
"What are you drawing?"
"You'll know when you see it...! Right now, I'm drawing a picture...! It's a summer golden wheat field with dragonflies flying around, dogs and girls running through the meadow...!"
As Purpur said, the landscape painting was pretty impressive.
I'd never imagined she had such talent, so as I admired it, Purpur puffed out her chest proudly and added a few words.
"This body, Purpur, learned painting from the ink nymphs...!"
"Ink nymphs? What's that?"
"Ink nymphs are nymphs who paint really well...! They evolve from ditch water nymphs that have absorbed tons of paint...!"
I see.
I didn't quite get what ink nymphs were, but a fact from the book I'd read today came to mind. Fairies and nymphs had bizarre evolution systems.
All nymphs are born as basic 'ditch water nymphs,' but as they age and gain experience, they evolve into various other nymphs.
I wondered if I, as a half-fairy, could do something similar.
Anyway.
Purpur painted well. Thanks to her, the rundown old building had transformed into something like a charming tourist spot brimming with sentiment.
To praise her for helping Marmar and living well, I decided to pet her head.
Fairies love praise, especially having their heads or cheeks stroked, as the book said.
"You drew this really well. It looks just like the real thing."
Stroke, stroke.
I'd praised my little sisters plenty of times, so petting a girl-like imp's head felt natural.
Purpur's blue hair was silky smooth like satin, feeling nice to stroke.
But wondering if she liked it, I watched her reaction closely.
Brrr.
Purpur started trembling. Was she hating the casual stroking? I tensed up briefly.
"That half-hearted stroking won't even tickle...! Stroke more intensely, halfwit...!"
"I see."
In the end, I had to stroke her vigorously as she demanded. Only then did Purpur look satisfied. Her triangular tail tip wagging side to side meant she was happy, probably.
Stroke.
Marmar, who had been watching, approached me.
"Comrade, what are you doing?"
"Praising Purpur."
As I said that, I suspected Marmar might subtly want praise too.
After all, Marmar deserved it most for working so hard.
"Marmar, you've done such a great job fixing up this old building. And getting along well with the other imps—it's a sight for sore eyes."
"Are you praising me now?"
"Yeah. Want me to pet your head too?"
Stroke.
I moved my hand from Purpur's head to Marmar's warm-looking orange hair.
I lightly dug in my nails, scratching as I stroked, and Marmar wagged her tail side to side, clearly delighted.
"It's been forever since someone praised me...!"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah! It reminds me of the old days—."
Marmar gazed dreamily, lost in reminiscence. Probably thinking of her convent days. As a good kid, she must have gotten tons of praise from the nuns.
I got plenty of praise as a child too. I'd even muster extra effort for praise stickers or mileage.
But as an adult, could I recall anyone cheering my efforts? Nothing came to mind. The world is stingy with praise for grown-ups. Adults feel good receiving it too.
Stroke, stroke, stroke.
Marmar getting her head petted by me. She said.
"Come to think of it, I had something to tell you, comrade, but I forgot."
"You had something to tell me?"
"I forgot! But now that you're petting me, I remember!"
Petting jogs her memory, huh.
I stopped my hand and asked Marmar.
"What was it?"
"You asked me to investigate the Guide, right? I learned something about him. It's from Gargarr, so it should be reliable."
"From Gargarr?"
I looked at the mad imp happily digging away over there. Hard to imagine what she'd said, but I decided to hear more.
"What did you hear from Gargarr?"
"She said the Guide was collecting spells. The Demon King's secret arts. I don't know why, but they were spells similar to the magic you use, comrade."
"Spells like the ones I use? Like this magic circle?"
I drew a magic circle on the ground with circles and lines. It was the formula for the high-level spell Gamigin, already memorized in my head.
Marmar called over the mad imp Gargarr and asked.
"Does it look like this?"
"Curse...!"
"Looks like it does!"
"I see."
If these imp friends were right, the Guide—the irregular in the hunter party—was collecting Angmar's secret arts like me.
Something flashed through my mind.
"That's some pretty helpful info. Good job."
* * *
After hearing from Marmar, I went to Professor Vallan.
Confirming no one was around, Professor Vallan let me into her lab.
"For you to visit like this. It's an honor. Wh-what brings you here?"
"Professor Vallan, can you detect other Ars Nova presences?"
"To some extent. Of course, if they're really hiding, I have no way to find them. They've probably pieced together my identity from the recent incidents anyway. They'll be on guard."
The incident where Professor Vallan attacked the Draco family and caused chaos was famous throughout the Ark. No one was unaware.
Of course, that she was Angmar's grand spell Ars Nova and that's why it happened was top secret, known only to me and a few others.
But according to Professor Vallan, the other grand spells like her could infer her state from that much info alone.
Thus, they'd hide their identities even more tightly in front of her. Making it hard for Professor Vallan to find them.
Pushing aside my slight disappointment, I said.
"Then there's someone I'd like you to investigate. My guess might be wrong, but there's a high chance the being we're looking for is inside them."
"Hoo...."
Professor Vallan crossed her arms, impressed.
"Who should I inves, investigate?"
"Do you know about the recent assassination attempt on the Queen?"
"You're talking about that bizarre hunter. I was watching him too, but he's not connected to us. J-just a bizarre existence."
Vallan called the hunter a bizarre existence. He was indeed weird.
"You shouldn't approach him. I'm not talking about the hunter. It's the Guide who led him here."
"Guide...?"
"Wears a black robe like mine. Similar build too."
Beyond that, I didn't know the name or face.
But he was definitely an irregular who didn't exist in the original story.
Such a guy collecting Solomon's spells—. My senses weren't dulled enough to miss the suspicion.
Vallan said confidently.
"If I uncover this, I can prove my loyalty to you, Lord Theo. Al-right."
"Loyalty?"
"I'm no fool. Ah, I know there's much you haven't revealed to me yet, Lord Theo. Heh heh—."
Heh heh heh—Vallan laughed sinisterly. Indeed, I didn't fully trust Professor Vallan. To me, she was a bomb with many variables.
This one wasn't entirely dim-witted.
"......"
Suddenly, Professor Vallan's sly red eyes looked ominous. But she adjusted her soft-looking purple shoulder cape and reassured me.
"Suspecting everything. Truly the qualities of a wise king. So, is there more you'd like to ask of me?"
"More to ask—. How's the investigation on the Saintess going? Didn't you say one of your grand spells is sealed in her body?"
"—Agares."
Vallan's voice slithered like a snake in a cave. Ignoring the goosebumps rising, I said.
"Yes, Agares. How's the progress?"
The Sage Council's Hainax and Vallan said an Ars Nova was sealed in Saintess Priga's body. They didn't seem to be lying, so it must be true.
Vallan had prepared some trickery beforehand to acquire and gain power from the spell inside her. But when I asked for results, she groaned.
"It's, not that easy. The Saintess's mental defenses are qu-quite sturdy and solid, so unless something unusual happens, she, she won't show any openings."
"I see."
"There were occasionally humans like that. Bizarre humans who withstand Ars Nova's mental corruption. Saintesses or saints with little desire—."
Vallan continued in a lecherous tone.
"But it's not like there's no way at all."
Her face shadowed, she looked every bit the villain.