Chapter 232
Chapter 232
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 232
>Chapter Title: He Who Rose by the Mouth
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The captain of the Azure Ice Division, Saurica, paced back and forth in front of the Patriarch's residence of the Decullan Family.
His right arm was gone. With his sleeve flapping loosely, his face was deathly pale.
‘Damn it…… Damn it.’
From the Second Black-White Slums all the way to the Decullan estate.
He had rushed without a moment's rest, not even a chance to tend his wounds, but Saurica felt no fatigue whatsoever.
‘How the hell am I supposed to explain this.’
He had no face left to show the Patriarch.
With the war against Lortel looming.
The expectations the Decullans had placed on Goldrin's firstborn were far from small. That was why they had assigned an entire mage division to him.
Yet he had botched that critical mission beyond all recognition.
Just as Saurica stood there at a loss, riddled with anxiety, the door to the Patriarch's residence creaked open at that very moment.
Kiiieeeek……
“Hmm, what is it. Saurica?”
Saurica snapped out of his thoughts and fixed his gaze on the owner of the voice.
“……Holland.”
He had heard someone was in private audience with the Patriarch, and it seemed that someone was Holland.
Saurica's face hardened at the appearance of the one person he absolutely did not want to run into right now, his eyelids twitching faintly.
It was around then that Holland opened his mouth.
“What's with that getup. Where'd you pawn off an arm? Looks almost pitiable, I'll give you that.”
“Mind your own business and get lost.”
“Hah.”
Holland let out a short, scoffing laugh. It was a savage grin, like that of a wild beast.
“Went around acting like hot shit without knowing your place, and it looks like you finally met someone who could put you in yours. What, ran into one of the Ten Swords on the mission? Nah, couldn't be. You wouldn't have made it back alive if it was.”
“Shut your trap…… and fuck off.”
Saurica spat the words in barely contained rage, but Holland merely shook his head as if it was the funniest thing.
He genuinely found it amusing.
Azure Ice and Crimson Jade.
Ice and fire.
The two mage divisions wielded opposing attributes, and a fierce rivalry had long festered between them. To be frank, from Holland's perspective, Saurica was just……
A mildly useful pest.
Nothing more, nothing less.
“Fine, if the great captain of Azure Ice tells me to scram, then I suppose I should. Oh, but hey, you hear about this?”
“……?”
Holland, who had started to walk away, paused as if struck by a amusing thought and turned back to Saurica.
“Heard a funny rumor. Apparently some idiot mage from a famed magic house went up on the auction block at the Second Black-White Slums…… Got nabbed by cartel trash like a moron and made a total fool of himself in front of all the nobles.”
“…….”
Saurica's face burned hot.
From the death of Crimson Jade's vice-captain Karahen not long ago, to the failure of the Infinite Chain Gun this time.
It felt like just yesterday he had been trash-talking Holland behind his back, and now here he was taking mockery straight to his face. There was no greater humiliation.
It was right then that a feral glint entered Holland's face, which had been struggling to hide its amusement.
“But.”
“……!”
Saurica stiffened at the sudden oppressive pressure.
Holland's voice drilled savagely into his ear.
“All that's fine. Missions fail sometimes. You can make an ass of yourself too. Say what you will, you're still pretty damn useful. That's why I put up with your yapping like some pup. But…….”
Holland's gaze fell on the empty right sleeve.
“Is your realm intact? Those magic circuits must be twisted all to hell.”
“What…….”
“I'm asking if you're still useful. Do I have to put up with your arrogance now that you're not? That's the question I'm asking myself.”
Saurica swallowed hard, feeling as if a snake's…… no, an enraged beast's jaws were hovering right in front of his nose.
‘What the…….’
Saurica had of course heard the news that Holland had become one of the Seven Mages.
Even so, he had quietly believed he wasn't all that inferior, but this gap…… it was vast.
As Saurica froze, unable to speak amid the tension.
Holland's voice rang in his ear.
“Saurica, prove your worth.”
“…….”
Holland left those words behind and vanished from the spot.
But even after he was gone, Saurica couldn't move.
Prove your worth.
He knew all too well what had been omitted after that.
It was a warning.
To him, who had sullied the Decullan name, this was Holland…… no, one of the Seven Mages issuing his final ultimatum.
‘Damn it.’
Saurica was forced to feel a bitter despair at the yawning chasm between himself and Holland, whom he had once seen as a rival.
And with no time to shake off that sensation.
“Lord Saurica, the Patriarch summons you.”
The moment of confrontation was fast approaching.
“……I'll go in.”
Saurica straightened his clothes once and followed the attendant inside.
Before Pahren von Decullan, he recounted the full details of the incident, then relayed Aster's message as conveyed by Shain.
The message was simple.
- You will naturally learn the time and place.
In other words, if he wanted to settle the grudge, he should wait quietly. Having heard the message, Pahren posed a question.
“To whom does he belong?”
“I did not hear that far.”
“Hmm.”
Pahren's eyes darkened.
Saurica kept his head bowed to the floor, every nerve on edge as he gauged the Patriarch's mood.
But the response was unexpected.
“Interesting.”
Saurica didn't see it, but Pahren was undoubtedly smiling.
As if he found the current situation utterly delightful.
* * *
A few days after Aster left the Second Black-White Slums.
A single letter arrived in various places.
The first to receive it was Picker, chief of the First Base Camp in the Hamern Great Forest.
Picker had been spending his days in a frenzy to normalize the First Base Camp when an unexpected visitor made him tilt his head.
“Did he run away?”
“If only…… Sigh, shit.”
Railly let out a deep sigh and wiped the sweat from his brow.
“Anyway, why's the path such a fucking mess? Things that used to show up only at the Second and Third Base Camps are crawling all over now.”
“It's because of Destroyer. The monsters that got pushed out back then have settled outside for good. But he came alone?”
Picker flexed his ever-imposing muscles and peered behind Railly.
He was looking for Aster.
Catching on to that, perhaps.
A sly grin crept onto Railly's lips.
“Oh, looking for ‘hyungnim,’ are we? The ‘hyungnim’ who's a good two years older than you, Chief Picker.”
“Well, yeah, but…….”
Railly couldn't hold back his laughter.
Picker, who had been completely taken in by Aster's smooth talk at their first meeting, still believed he was the elder.
To Railly, who knew Aster's true identity, the sight was utterly ridiculous.
‘A academy kid as hyungnim? Brooo?’
Whenever Aster came up, genuine respect shone in Picker's eyes. What reaction would he have if he learned the truth?
The thought was so funny his mouth itched.
It was right then that Picker spoke.
“That look in your eyes is disrespectful. You've always needed a beating to straighten up.”
His massive fist clenched, the forearm muscles writhing grotesquely.
But Railly didn't back down and fired back with irritation.
“Hey, come on. Hit me. Hell, just kill me. But you better know whose right-hand man you're hitting. The right-hand man of the Chief's own ‘hyungnim.’ You gotta! Know that before you swing, sir.”
“Urgh.”
Picker slowly unclenched his fist. Annoying as the bastard was, thinking of ‘hyungnim’—no, the benefactor of the Hamern Great Forest—he couldn't bring himself to strike.
“……Whatever. Just spit out your business already. You're not here because you missed the forest, so you must have some reason.”
“The business…… Tch. Just pass this along.”
What Railly pulled from his bosom was a single letter.
A seal with no crest stamped on it.
“This is…….”
“I don't know the contents either. ‘Hyungnim’—the Chief's hyungnim—said to deliver it directly to him. Take a look.”
Picker stared at Railly for a moment before unfolding the letter.
Silence soon blanketed the tent.
How much time passed like that.
“Mm.”
A stifled groan leaked from between Picker's teeth.
The letter's contents were straightforward.
No pleasantries or greetings, just straight to the point—and the problem was what it said.
In short, it boiled down to this.
- I'd appreciate it if you could block the Decullan mages' supply of magic materials. As much as you're able.
Block the Decullan mages?
It seemed to refer to the Decullan mages who had recently entered the forest to procure materials……
The letter also mentioned that if it might harm Aviot, no need to push it, and that compensation was prepared.
Picker mulled over the contents for a bit before letting out a heavy sigh.
“You're making things difficult in all sorts of ways.”
In truth, interfering with the Decullan mages rampaging through the forest wasn't hard.
All it took was leaning on the pathfinders they hired.
‘Let me think, the pathfinders they hired were…… from the Third Base Camp?’
The Third Base Camp chief, Karlion, would no doubt accept gladly if it was a request from the ‘benefactor.’
He had heard the Decullans offered a hefty sum, but Aster's significance to the Hamern Great Forest mercenaries went beyond that.
Even so, what left Picker uneasy wasn't that.
‘What the hell…… has he gotten tangled up in?’
Setting aside ease or difficulty, he was purely worried about Aster.
But Picker soon set aside such concerns.
With Railly right there……
“But you're not even offering tea? I'm the right-hand man of the Chief's hyungnim, you know…….”
That punk didn't seem to know shit.
Picker eyed the pathetic Railly for a moment before making up his mind.
“I'll do as the letter says, for now.”
It was the benefactor's request— no reason to refuse.
It was right then that Railly stood to leave.
“No need for a reply, he said? Well, anyway, handle it yourself. Work your ass off. Guest comes and you don't even offer tea, sheesh.”
Railly moved to bolt as if he couldn't stand another second in the forest.
Thwack!
Picker's thick hand clamped down on Railly's shoulder at that moment.
“……What're you doing?”
“The letter mentioned compensation.”
“……So?”
Did he sense something off?
Railly's eyes quivered faintly.
‘……No way?’
A certain possibility flashed through his mind.
And it was right then that Picker spoke.
“Feels off taking compensation for helping the benefactor, but looking at you, I can't not take it.”
“You don't mean that compensation is…….”
Picker nodded.
“Says I can work you to the bone.”
“…….”
“And beat you if you don't listen.”
“…….”
“Perfect timing. The forest paths are such a clusterfuck now the pathfinders are struggling…… With you around, no worries. Oh, but first.”
Railly suddenly let out a groan from the pain of his shoulder being crushed.
“Ar, ack……!”
“Time to instill some discipline, you loudmouth Railly.”
Picker's fist slammed straight into Railly's face.
He who rose by the mouth.
Shall fall by the fist.
……That was the lesson Railly learned today.
* * *
Several other figures received Aster's letter as well.
Even Maysern, who was living luxuriously in a annex of the Blandoga Family while penning a tome on spirit arts, was no exception.
“‘Seems to have a grudge against the Decullans…… Here's your chance to screw them over’? Heh.”
Aster had subtly revealed his hostility toward the Decullans before, and it seemed Maysern hadn't forgotten.
As he read down the letter, Maysern pondered.
‘What to do.’
But seeing the words at the end made his choice clear.
Come to think of it, haven't I not received my Baharmut reward yet? Oh, no misunderstanding. Just thought of it and wrote it down.
“Tch, can't ignore that now, can I.”
Maysern steeled his resolve and headed to Gamo to announce he would be going out.
Several others received similar letters.
“Hmm, looks like you're up to something quite entertaining, Aster.”
Even Hazen.
“What do you think, Sir Zeke.”
“I follow the Young Patriarch's will alone. Do as your heart desires.”
Even Sion, the Young Patriarch of Lortel, was no exception.
“The war with the Decullans is already counting down anyway…… So this much of a request is fine, right?”
“Yes, it does not seem an excessive ask.”
And that wasn't all.
“Master, what are you doing?”
“Ah, Obern. Good timing. Got a letter from someone delightful.”
“Someone delightful…….”
“Your senior.”
Rihim gazed fondly at Obern, who brightened noticeably, then turned back to the letter.
“Oh. Any message for me…….”
“……None.”
“……Aw.”
Obern visibly deflated.
But Rihim smiled gently.
“No need to be so down. At any rate, it seems that rascal hasn't forgotten us.”
“R-Really……?”
“Of course.”
As Rihim comforted his disciple, he glanced out the window for a moment.
‘Looks like you've finally set your sights at last.’
Beyond the window stretched a clear blue sky.