Chapter 135
Chapter 135
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 135
>Chapter Title: Wait, What Did You Say?
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The ruins of the battlefield. Under the hazy moonlight illuminating the surroundings, a chilling silence descended.
The battle had ground to a halt with the sudden appearance of the man.
I furrowed my brow, taking him in.
"So... who the hell are you?"
"Did you not hear? I am the Third Sword, Zickra."
"...Damn."
A sigh slipped out at the calm response.
To be honest, I'd figured the rat who'd been hiding and watching wasn't your average fighter.
But the Third Sword? Of all things?
'Is this for real?'
I couldn't find words in the face of this unbelievable reality.
No, what kind of Third Sword pops out of nowhere in a place like this, like it's some random dog's name!
In my past life, I roamed the Eastern Continent far and wide and never caught so much as a glimpse of his face!
Is this some kind of curse?
Just as I instinctively glanced up at the sky, the Third Sword's voice rang out.
"Yet I have received no answer."
"...What did you ask?"
"I asked why you are causing a disturbance in Lortel territory."
"That's..."
I was at a loss for words.
Truth be told, the reason we'd come to Flick Mountain wasn't exactly aboveboard.
But hold on.
A thought suddenly struck me.
'Honestly, what's there to feel guilty about?'
Think about it.
Sure, our reason for coming to Flick Mountain wasn't on the up-and-up, but did that mean we'd actually done anything?
No, we hadn't even set foot inside Lortel Castle, let alone acted on it.
Which means we're innocent passersby No. 1 right now!
'But hold on.'
I eyed the Third Sword with half-lidded eyes.
Yeah, we're innocent passersby No. 1.
Sure, the masks make us look pretty suspicious, but that just bumps us up to 'suspicious as hell but still innocent passersby No. 1.'
With that mindset, the situation didn't seem all that bad.
For starters...
'The Third Sword is right there in front of me?'
My mood wasn't half bad.
His tightly pressed lips and steely gaze suggested he was stubbornly bullheaded, but there was no killing intent in the aura radiating from him.
In other words, he wasn't treating us as enemies right now!
'This could make things... a lot easier?'
"Why no answer? There is no third question."
"Ah, it's just... so moving, you know? Heh heh."
"...?"
Was my sudden shift in attitude too abrupt? A faint furrow creased the Third Sword's brow.
But I ignored it and slapped on my most shameless grin.
Gently rubbing my palms together—that was the first form of the 'Riley School of Flattery'!
"Lortel—it's the ideal of every knight, the paragon of all warriors! The undisputed pinnacle of swordsmanship houses, right?"
"...And?"
"Sure, I'm just a lowly mage, but I've long admired Lortel's prestige! And now, to meet one of Lortel's Ten Swords—no less than the Third in person... this is just..."
[What the hell are you doing, you sly bastard?]
Don't look at me like that—it's pathetic for me too.
But damn, this was harder than it looked.
I'd always thought I could spout bullshit on command, but flattery was a whole other level.
'Riley, you were one hell of a guy.'
Even when you could see right through it, Riley's flattery had a soul-shaking resonance.
The crap coming out of my mouth? Just empty noise. No spirit behind it.
Still, I pressed on doggedly. Very doggedly. But...
"Do you know how much I've...?"
"...Enough."
The Third Sword cut me off with a firm voice.
"I still haven't heard your answer. Who are you, and why are you stirring up trouble in Lortel territory?"
"..."
Tough customer.
Is it because there's no soul in it? I smacked my lips, staring at the unflinching face of the Third Sword.
Tch.
At this point, I gave up on the pathetic Riley impression.
"You wouldn't know us even if I told you."
"Try me."
"You gonna believe it?"
I let out a smirk. His eyes narrowed at my grin as he replied.
"I'll judge after I hear it."
"Fine, then. Guess I have no choice."
It was about time to invent a suitable cover organization.
Truth be told, this was an indispensable white lie I'd learned the hard way after meeting the headmaster and Professor Fellina—though it was a bit late for that now.
So, what to name the group?
[Making a ghost organization. Need name ideas.]
Replies came from Shine and Parun.
[What bullshit is this? Quit yapping nonsense and...]
Shine was out.
[Do whatever the hell you want with that.]
Not exactly cooperative from the crew.
Honestly, I hadn't expected much from Shine.
How's a dumb brute like him supposed to grasp the importance of these delicate details? All he knows is hack, slash, punch, and get punched.
But Parun? Total letdown.
'The highest educated one here, and that's all he gives me?'
Figured with all that brainpower, he'd cough up something plausible.
Guess he traded intellect for zero sensitivity.
Anyway.
"Need more time to think?"
"No, just consulting with the group. It's a secret organization, after all."
I felt a pang of regret at the Third Sword's impatient nature, denying me time to deliberate.
With enough time, I could've come up with something cool.
But what could I do? The situation was what it was.
"We are..."
Even as I rolled my tongue to speak, I racked my brain for the coolest name possible.
Secret organizations, by definition, used words like 'Salvation'—something grandiose but meaningless.
But was this the limit of my imagination?
"...Tower."
"...Tower?"
"Yeah, we came from the Tower."
I glanced at the puzzled Third Sword, then flicked my eyes off into empty space.
"It's this group called the Magic Tower—think of it as an academic society formed by mages."
Don't ask why an academic group is secret. There's a good reason.
With that lame explanation out, the Third Sword narrowed his eyes suspiciously at someone.
Shine, specifically.
His look screamed, 'Isn't that guy a knight?'
I sighed at the hole in my setup. But the tongue turns faster than the brain.
"...He's a swordsman from the Sword Garden, the affiliate group of the Magic Tower. The Sword Garden is... a training society for warriors."
The Third Sword's eye twitched then.
"You expect me to buy that?"
"Told you you wouldn't believe it."
No choice now but to double down on the bullshit.
Water under the bridge—might as well commit. And honestly, it wasn't even a total lie.
'...I really am gonna build a tower.'
Sure, the Magic Tower was a spur-of-the-moment invention.
But since I'm a mage building it, calling it the Magic Tower isn't weird, right?
Yeah, from today onward, the tower's name is Magic Tower.
"..."
By now, the Third Sword was looking at me like a con artist or a lunatic, but I met his gaze head-on.
With the most sincere, badass eyes I could muster.
Did the all-in lie in my eyes work?
The Third Sword spoke.
"So, what brings this secret group to Flick Mountain?"
"No excuse for the disturbance. Just... a petty squabble among traveling companions. And as for Flick Mountain, it wasn't exactly 'just passing through.'"
Tch.
I scratched my head and opened my mouth.
Now that I was part of this secret group, I had to toss him the bare minimum reason to buy it.
He wouldn't believe members of some shadowy organization were just 'passing through' and happened to kick up a fuss at Flick Mountain.
So, for the first time here, I spoke the truth.
"The Magic Tower and Sword Garden are academic and training societies, but we also pursue the peace and justice of the world."
"...And?"
"Our main enemy right now is Decullan. And we got word that Lortel is trading Infinite Chains with them."
"..."
The Third Sword's eyes darkened deeply.
Yeah, figures.
The deal with Decullan wasn't top secret, but it had leaked outside the family.
I met his gaze and stated our purpose.
"Decullan is a den of evil. And Patriarch Pahren is an unprecedented monster. We can't stand by and watch Infinite Chains fall into their hands, so we've come out into the world."
"That means..."
I spoke with righteous eyes.
"We've come to propose a deal to Lortel."
The die was cast.
All that remained was whether the Third Sword bought it or not.
Honestly, even if he didn't, it wouldn't matter.
I just hoped.
The conviction of the Magic Tower rising tall in my heart.
The righteous mindset that embraces evil and shuns good.
This selfish sincerity standing against the vile Decullan and monstrous Pahren.
I hoped he'd see it.
But why?
"Quite... an entertaining tale."
The one breaking the silence was unexpected.
"...?"
I frowned and turned.
There stood the battered punk, striking all sorts of pompous poses despite being a total mess.
I gave him a glance and waved him off behind my back.
'Just die already.'
Can't he read the room?
We're in the middle of serious talk, and he butts in?
But had he drowned his common sense in soup? The punk kept talking.
"Magic Tower and Sword Garden... hard to believe, sure. But your stance on Decullan aligns with mine."
"Damn..."
What does it matter if a punk like you agrees?
I shot a look at Shine, our resident punk-beating thug. Shut him up.
But Shine just chuckled and shook his head.
[Handle it yourself.]
What, bonding after a few punches?
Shine played dumb and stepped back.
"Tch..."
Parun once said even dogs know when to bark.
So what do you do with a punk who yaps without reading the time, place, or mood?
I pondered his fate while flexing my fist.
That's when the punk walked right toward me.
'Alright, you're coming to get beat on your own.'
Punches aren't my strong suit. So, surprise from the low left—diagonal 45 degrees to the jaw.
Then two hard shots to the solar plexus, circle behind for a leg sweep. Finish with a knife-hand to the neck.
Three, two, one... I tensed my knees to execute the perfect beatdown.
But then.
The punk's voice rang in my ear.
"Sir Zick, how long will you pretend not to know?"
"...?"
I tilted my head.
Right after, the silent Third Sword spoke.
"My apologies, Young Patriarch. I couldn't ascertain who they were... I feared they might know your identity and do you harm."
"Tch, such towering worry. Do I seem that frail? And with you here as well."
"It was merely precaution..."
I blankly took in the two chatting casually.
"...?"
What?
It was so everyday. Like they'd known each other for years.
Amid the cognitive dissonance from this sudden turn...
It hit me—the title the Third Sword had used for the punk flashed in my mind.
'...Wait, what did he say?'
So.
The Third Sword had clearly said:
- My apologies, Young Patriarch.
Yeah, to that punk...
'Young Patriarch.'
Which means the Third Sword of Lortel had called that guy Young Patriarch.
So, does that mean the punk is...?
My eyes shook. The muscles under them twitched. Meanwhile, the punk—no, the one called Young Patriarch—spoke with the Third Sword at his back.
"But you said you came to propose a deal? Ah, first I should introduce myself."
The Young Patriarch swept his bored gaze over us and continued languidly.
"I am Sion von Lortel. The legitimate heir of Lortel, the man who will stand at the pinnacle of all knights. How's that?"
Young Patriarch Sion smiled faintly as he posed the question.
"Surely that's more than enough qualification to discuss a deal with you all. Or is it lacking?"