Chapter 273
Chapter 273
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 273
>Chapter Title: The Times Have Changed
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After Shine left, Aster rubbed his hollow eyes. The dryness eased a bit, but the headache lingered.
Like the morning after a night of heavy drinking, a throbbing pain pulsed through his skull. Aster pressed his temples hard with his thumb and index finger.
“Whew.”
It wasn’t just the headache that grated on him.
‘My insides…… they’re a total mess.’
After a moment of checking within himself, Aster got out of bed and moved to the table.
His body screamed for sleep, but he couldn’t drift off no matter what.
“First…….”
Let’s sort out the situation.
‘……Aeviron got away.’
From the looks of it, even Shine couldn’t do anything about Aeviron.
He’d hear the details later, but Shine’s expression alone told him Aeviron was no pushover.
That left one big problem.
The Second Black-White Slums and the Magic Tower.
Decullan had caught on to the connection.
‘They won’t move right away. They’ve got the war with Lortel, and they’ve lost two of the Seven Mages already.’
On top of that, Aeviron had failed his mission, so Decullan would have to tread carefully.
And above all……
‘They’ve got no reason to rush.’
Strictly speaking, it was because of him.
- Heard you…… opened an orphanage?
- You son of a bitch……
Knowing he couldn’t abandon the orphanage, it had become a hostage in itself.
No matter where he ran, they could shake the orphanage and drag him back anytime.
……So what now?
That was why Aster couldn’t sleep.
Eyes closed as if deep in thought, he leaned back against the chair and stared up at the ceiling.
“Tch, Young Patriarch. You were wrong. What was it? If you’ve got something to protect, you find strength you didn’t know you had?”
Sure, it had surged for a moment. But……
The fatigue from that crushing weight outweighed any power born of responsibility.
If he didn’t collapse from sheer exhaustion on his own, he’d count himself lucky.
Of course, the mentality of an archmage who had reached transcendence wasn’t that fragile. It was just how he felt.
……Anyway, back to the point.
“A way, a way…… some kind of way.”
Aster racked his brain for a solution to break the current deadlock.
With Decullan watching the Second Black-White Slums like a hawk and ready to grab the orphanage as leverage, how could he slip out of their grasp?
‘The best option was burying Aeviron after all.’
Relocate the entire orphanage?
……No way. Not with Decullan’s eyes wide open. Sneaking out one or two kids might work, but dozens? Impossible.
What about handing the kids over to Blandoga through Senior Myseln?
……Yeah, right. Maybe Lortel, but not them.
And even Lortel wasn’t a great choice.
Sure, they were the least bad of the noble houses, but the odds of them taking a hit for a bunch of orphanage brats were slim.
“Tch.”
Frustrated on all fronts, Aster clicked his tongue.
So what then?
“Guess I’ll just give them what they want.”
What Decullan wanted was the Magic Tower Lord. And that lord was him.
So if the lord just walked right up to Decullan, they’d have no reason to touch the orphanage.
But before that……
‘There’s something I need to take care of.’
Aster’s gaze shifted to the bed. Curled up beside the pillow was a pitiful lizard, its scales torn in places from injuries.
Wyvern.
The spirit who had given up immortality to save him, now a mutant drake aspiring to be a dragon. Yet still called Wyvern, his familiar.
Its life was bound to his—when his breath ended, so would theirs.
……Which meant.
He couldn’t go to Decullan until he severed that bond.
Whether by releasing the familiar or transferring ownership to someone else.
In that sense.
‘That parasite. Sharp as a tack, huh.’
It had been on his mind ever since hearing Aeviron escaped.
He’d just kept pondering in case there was another way.
‘Alright, then…….’
Aster mentally listed the things he needed to wrap up before leaving. The Magic Tower, his connections, and all the minor loose ends.
A rough outline took shape.
Busy days ahead, no doubt.
The sooner he sorted everything, the better. And top priority was breaking and releasing Wyvern’s familiar spell.
With that settled, Aster turned his head and looked out the window. His eyes reflected the predawn scenery of the Second Black-White Slums.
That’s when, as Aster was organizing his thoughts.
Knock knock.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me, Riheim.”
Riheim had come.
* * *
Riheim entered the room and pulled out the chair opposite Aster, sitting down.
Aster hurriedly reached for his mask, but Riheim shook his head to stop him.
“Leave it. I’ve already seen everything while treating you.”
“Ah, right.”
Silence fell after that.
Riheim sat with arms crossed, staring at the table with a stern expression, lost in thought. Aster just blinked.
‘……What.’
The awkwardness was unreal.
Aster, always so confident, felt mortified without his mask.
He’d figured he’d take it off someday, but not this abruptly.
As Aster’s eyes darted around.
“Decullan, right?”
“……Yeah.”
Aster nodded at Riheim’s curt question.
“Shine…… right, Shine. I heard from him. Word is Aeviron himself showed up. That true?”
“Yes, but…… do you two know each other?”
He asked because “that guy” sounded oddly familiar.
You don’t usually call a total stranger that.
Riheim nodded without hesitation, as if no need to hide it.
“We’ve been on the same battlefield a few times.”
“Enemies?”
“If we had been, you wouldn’t have lived to meet him.”
Meaning Aeviron would be dead if they’d been foes.
Aster realized anew what kind of man sat before him.
Silence settled lightly between them once more.
It didn’t last long before Riheim spoke again.
“What’s your name?”
“Didn’t hear it?”
“I asked on purpose. Better to hear it straight from you.”
“……Aster.”
“Aster, Aster. Aster…….”
Riheim mulled the name over, nodded, then asked another question.
“How old are you?”
“No idea.”
“No idea?”
Aster often fudged his age depending on the listener, but this time he answered honestly.
“Yeah, I’m an orphan from the Black-White Slums.”
“An orphan…… I see. Are you an academy student by any chance?”
Ridiculous guess based on skill level, but given his apparent age and ties to Principal Schubertz, it had some basis.
Aster nodded calmly again.
“Yes.”
“You met Schubertz at the academy, then.”
“……Yes.”
“……That crazy bastard. The times have changed.”
“Pardon?”
“Not to you. To that lunatic sending academy kids into the Great Forest.”
“Ah, yeah.”
Riheim tore into Schubertz with a murderous edge, then got to the real point.
“So, what’s your plan from here?”
“From here…….”
“I got the gist from Shine. Bad blood with Decullan? Aeviron threatened you using the orphanage? So, what’ll you do?”
“Well…….”
Aster trailed off.
He’d already decided, but spilling it felt off.
Not knowing Astaroth was watching? No, Riheim’s gaze flicked upward soon after.
“Young friend up there, mind stepping out for a bit? I can put you to sleep if it’s trouble.”
Uncharacteristically blunt.
Catching the hint? Astaroth’s presence in the ceiling slowly faded away.
Riheim waited until it was gone before speaking.
“Now, speak.”
“Well…….”
No ears listening now. Still, Aster hesitated on whether to reveal the truth.
As he pondered, Riheim’s voice rang softly in his ear.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“…….”
“Run if you have to. Don’t shoulder too much.”
“What are you…….”
Aster scratched his head with an awkward smile. But Riheim wasn’t fooled. He met Aster’s eyes steadily and spoke plainly.
“Do you know what your face looks like?”
“What…….”
“Like a commander charging into enemy lines to save his men. I’ve seen that look more than once. And it never ends well.”
“…….”
Aster had no reply. He hadn’t realized his face gave him away that much.
Riheim remained calm regardless. Not grim, not light—just serene.
Silence hung between them for a moment.
Then, a gentle voice slipped into Aster’s ear.
“The times have changed.”
“…….”
“In my day, kids your age on the battlefield wasn’t so strange. Academy students traded books and pens for staves and swords. No one batted an eye. But times change.”
What was he getting at?
Live carefree like your age suggests? Act innocent and clueless?
Cliché guess…… but spot on.
“With the changed times, set down all that responsibility.”
“…….”
“Don’t run off, don’t do anything drastic. No need to feel guilt for abandoning the orphanage. No need for unthanked sacrifices.”
Riheim—no, Muspellun de Gigus Aderian—took in the young mage.
Born in a different era, yet standing on the battlefield all the same. And the weight of duty crushing that mage’s shoulders.
He said it all while looking at him.
“Put down the burden.”
……This old man would share it.
Of course, Aster had no choice.
“This isn’t Riheim speaking. It’s Muspellun de Gigus Aderian. An imperial command from the noble blood of the Aderian Empire, granted by birthright.”
……The Archmage of Conclusion.
Muspellun de Gigus Aderian.
The grand duke revealed himself to the continent once more.