Chapter 125
Chapter 125
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 125
>Chapter Title: This Is Not a Real Bird
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Right after Aster left.
Shine, who had been lounging about in smug contentment, snapped his eyes open and straightened his posture.
"Heh heh. Heh heh heh heh."
Shine recalled Aster's request from moments ago and let out a sleazy chuckle.
"Lortel, Lortel, huh... So this is how I end up with a connection to them?"
Honestly, it had been a real dilemma.
How was he supposed to forge a link with the Lortel family?
The simplest option would have been to lean on Aster for help, but he had his doubts that the sly bastard would play ball so easily.
And yet, for him to come to me first like this!
'How lucky can a guy get!'
In a way, Aster's hunch that "he's got ulterior motives" had hit the nail on the head.
After all, Shine hadn't accepted the offer with purely innocent intentions.
Truth be told, his interest in connecting with the Lortel family was a fairly recent development.
It had all started from simple curiosity.
- Got it, you bigmouth?
- Uh, so... you're telling me to dig up the histories of those great houses...?
- Yeah, pretty much.
- Why me, though...?
- Tsk.
'Honestly, I was curious.'
Two hundred years had flown by.
They were probably rotting in their coffins by now, but what kind of lives had those punks—the ones I'd beaten black and blue back in the day—ended up living?
It wasn't like I missed them or anything.
I was just curious.
And man, it was entertaining.
- Uh, Sir Shine. I looked into it like you asked. First up, the Doranpega family...
'What? That thickheaded idiot from the Doranpega family became patriarch? Leaping over the young patriarch?!"
We weren't exactly close.
But the guy kept coming at me day after day, even after getting his ass handed to him, so it was kinda fun... no, I hung out with him because he had guts.
Seemed like just yesterday he was shedding bitter tears of rage after another thrashing...
'And that loser became the Iron-Blood Patriarch?!"
What could possibly be funnier!
Of course, it wasn't like he could track down rumors about every single connection that easily.
Two hundred years prior was more than enough time for word of one random schmuck to fade into oblivion, and Riley wasn't some pro informant anyway.
But in the midst of all that digging, one tidbit kept sticking in his craw.
- Uh, about the thing you had me look up last time. That, uh, 13th patriarch of the Lortel family.
- Oh, right. Yeah. So, who was it?
- Shamid von Lortel, sir.
Nothing surprising up to that point.
'As expected, Shamid. So it was you after all.'
Back then, Shamid had been one of the top contenders for patriarch.
He hadn't claimed the "young patriarch" title yet—competition with his brothers was still ongoing—but his talent was in a league of its own.
The one sticking point...
'The problem was the lack of backing.'
Was it because he was a bastard?
At the time, Shamid had zero support base within the family.
So why had Shine pegged him to take the throne...?
The answer lay in their final encounter.
To be precise, the gift he'd handed over.
'If he can't claw his way to patriarch with that, he might as well drop dead.'
It was right before he stormed the imperial palace for revenge against the L'manga family—their last get-together.
- Think it over one more time. You really gotta go through with this?
- I've thought it over a hundred times—a thousand—and I'm not changing my mind. Enough chit-chat; we're short on time. Here, take this.
Shine had left Shamid with a parting gift.
Truth be told, "gift" was generous; "dumping it" was more accurate.
'Couldn't just chuck it on the roadside like trash.'
But leaving it abandoned in some remote cave? No thanks.
Above all, the thought of some worthless hack getting their grubby hands on it made his blood boil.
So he'd passed it to Shamid...
And Shamid, upon receiving it, had said:
- ...I'll hold onto it for you.
- You don't have to.
- Come pick it up when you get back.
- I keep telling you, I ain't coming back alive. Why not just hang onto it and make use of it?
- Fine, then I'll wait. For you. Or a descendant of the L'manga family. Or your disciple.
What a joke.
A descendant of the L'manga family?
Sure, possible.
The L'manga house had a long history, plenty of side branches that had split off independently.
His disciple... yeah, that could happen too.
You didn't have to formally teach someone for them to count as a disciple; if they claimed to have learned from you, they could wear the title.
But.
'Still a laughable pipe dream.'
What ballsy fool would dare claim descent from L'mang!
To Shine, on the verge of assassinating the emperor, it was flat-out impossible.
But apparently, the guy saw it differently.
"Figured he'd used that 'item' to shore up his position... Looks like he kept his word to the bitter end."
Pffft heh heh.
Shine cracked a wistful smile as memories of his bullheadedly loyal old pal bubbled up.
Never imagined the fool would honor a one-sided promise all by his lonesome.
So, what was this item?
The genesis and demise of the L'manga family.
The demonic sword.
Proteus.
Frankly, Shine had been shocked to learn the Lortel family only had two demonic swords.
It meant Shamid hadn't wielded the L'manga blade. Had he, there'd be three in Lortel hands today.
'Truth is... it wasn't some grand gesture.'
Sure, he and Shamid went way back, but they hadn't shared any profound bond.
It was simply that...
After his death, he couldn't stomach the idea of L'mang's demonic sword ending up in imperial hands.
At any rate, those were the reasons Shine had jumped at Aster's proposal.
"Lortel... Yeah, been meaning to pay them a visit someday."
Of course, once he heard out the cunning rascal's scheme, it was literally just "a connection forms." Nothing more, nothing less.
But that connection was the important part.
He needed at least that thin thread to decide whether to honor his pact with his old comrade or not.
And if luck broke his way and he reclaimed that "demonic sword"...
'...That day, you'll kneel at my feet.'
"Heh, heh heh. Heh heh heh heh heh."
Shine grinned, envisioning the moment.
This was a saga of humiliations from ages past—a vengeful crusade to scour them clean.
- Leech!
- Hey, leech.
'Your reign of terror's got an expiration date.'
It was a nobly petty resolve if there ever was one.
* * *
Late into the night.
Studies wrapped up, I took a stroll through Hazen's night streets before introducing Shine to Parun.
'Shine—that guy's definitely scheming something...'
But damn if I could pin down what.
Truth be told, figuring Shine had ties to the Lortel family wasn't a stretch.
Remember back in the Death Knight fiasco, right after he snapped out of his stupor? I'd asked him straight up.
- What about Lortel?
- So... Shamid became patriarch? Meaning, who's the name on the 13th patriarch slot?
Heck, that's why I'd laid all my cards on the table from the jump.
But Shine's reaction? Definitely caught me off guard.
'Off guard... tch. Whatever, it'll do.'
I shoved thoughts of Shine to the back burner.
Let's be real: whatever that clown was plotting, it wasn't my problem.
Like I'd said, we had a pact in place—no betrayal possible. Worst case, it'd just be a pissing contest over who's top dog.
Plenty of time to sort Shine out later.
The thing was...
"Something's nagging at me."
The Infinite Chain business.
I'd told Parun there was "a chance it's a trap," but I was about seventy percent sold.
'This... is a trap.'
A nasty snare cooked up by the Decullan family, aimed at Parun the second he stepped out.
Sure, could be me overthinking.
The whole setup hinged on Parun gathering intel on the Infinite Chain.
Even if Decullan dangled the bait, if our info network outpaced theirs, the trap was worthless.
To put it bluntly...
'Yeah, shadowboxing.'
Flailing punches at thin air.
Prime setup to wear yourself out and collapse.
But.
'If Decullan's the ones pulling strings, that's a whole different ballgame.'
That's just how those snakes operate.
Hell, not just snakes—they're a nest of fangs-dripping vipers.
They'd be thinking something like:
"Who cares... works out either way. Step in the trap? Perfect. Dodge it? No sweat."
Trigger it, and they nab us sans Infinite Chain.
Miss? They snag the Infinite Chain, and it's only a matter of time till they collar us.
Had to be that kind of play...
'...Really just Holland?'
My mind kept churning.
Inter-family trade.
Even a heavy hitter like Holland showing up solo to face Lortel in a deal between great houses? Bad form.
'But if it's only Holland, Lortel would roll out the welcome mat.'
Sending a full entourage "out of respect" would just give Decullan thugs plausible deniability for whatever BS they pulled.
Sure, no upstanding house robs a trading partner outright—but since when were Decullan upstanding?
So if Holland flew solo, Lortel wouldn't bat an eye; hell, they'd breathe easier inside.
'One issue, though.'
Etiquette aside, there was a hole.
"Even for a 'win some, lose some' deal... it's a trap. This half-assed?"
A proper trap needs bodies, right? Minimal manpower at least.
'Troubleshooters lying in wait? ...Nah, Lortel wouldn't sit still for that.'
So really just Holland?
Holland's your classic battle-mage.
Fine for brute-force brawls, but this trap needed mobility and intel support—not his wheelhouse.
And it's not like Decullan had Troubleshooter squads or whatnot to spare. Who'd back up a lone Holland?
'...Hmm.'
Preeeeeeek—!
That's when Breakfast No. 1's screech pierced the air overhead.
'That little shit...'
Tailin' me even in the dead of night.
It wheeled overhead like it was saying, "Studies done? Quit wandering and crash already."
I waved it off irritably a couple times, and finally it peeled off into the night sky.
Those snow-white feathers gleamin' black against the dark.
But for some reason...
"...Huh?"
Watchin' Breakfast No. 1 fade away sparked something.
Like a foul mood mixed with this seething, hazy irritation—a memory fragment?
'What the hell... something...'
That's when it hit me like lightning.
"...Ah!"
It was a memory of one specific person.
"...Crow."
This is no real bird.
Just like the Troubleshooters tagged as No. this or No. that, it was simply "Crow."
'How the hell did I miss that?'
Once Crow clicked into place, Decullan's lineup strategy snapped into focus.
Sending just Holland—sloppy?
'Nope. Far from it.'
Crow.
With that bastard on support, one Holland was plenty.
No surveillance net needed? Crow made any net redundant.
Crow's detection range blanketed an entire city solo.
What that means is...
'...Rush in thinking it's just Holland, and I'd be toast.'
I shuddered involuntarily at the nightmare scenario.
But that passed quick.
"Tch. Guess I'll have to hustle the plan along."
Things were about to get real busy.