Chapter 316
Chapter 316
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 316
>Chapter Title: The Old Wizard
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A suffocating silence stretched on amid the tension.
A chill winter wind swept through the space as the Sakwol wizards drew their respective armaments.
Though called wizards, their weapons varied wildly.
Some gripped traditional staves like classic mages, while others wielded swords, spears, or blades—not an uncommon sight.
So... this distance was their domain.
Yet Musphelun's presence loomed larger than all of them combined.
It was under that pressure that Pahren finally spoke.
"I'd half-expected this, Grand Duke."
"Indeed, Decullan's patriarch. You can even choose your own grave."
Pahren let out a short chuckle at Musphelun's words.
"'The Mage of Conclusion'... I'd heard the tales. But you're not quite what the rumors described. Not this mild-mannered."
"That was with your grandfather. I had to teach him a few lessons after he got cocky relying on his vaunted house."
"So..."
Pahren sneered as he took in his surroundings. His gaze swept over the Sakwol wizards before settling firmly on Musphelun.
"You think you can do it?"
Just those words.
No one needed to ask what 'it' was.
He was daring them to try.
Against the Mage of Conclusion and the Blood-Eaten Moon, what could they possibly do to him?
Pahren exuded no aura at all—yet that very absence crushed down on those around him with greater force.
And so, the silence dragged on for a time.
"Grand Duke."
Pahren took a step toward Musphelun. The Sakwol wizards twitched to move, but Musphelun raised a hand to hold them back and simply watched Pahren approach.
Pahren slipped through the wizards' formation and halted right in front of Musphelun.
"If I were to cut your throat right here... I imagine the Emperor would be delighted."
"If you could."
"Even if it went the other way, he'd still applaud."
"......"
Musphelun fell silent.
He knew exactly what Pahren meant.
...In a way, the two shared a common enemy in the Emperor.
Especially Musphelun and the Emperor—they were allies bound by their imperial blood, yet entangled in layers of political strife.
As 'imperials,' they enjoyed the Emperor's grace, but that same status invited inevitable scrutiny.
"I know what the Empire is hiding."
"......"
"That's why you turned your back on the world, isn't it, Grand Duke? You're not about to side with the imperial house now."
His attitude suggested he knew it all. Musphelun met it with a feral smile.
"You're spinning... quite the entertaining tale."
"Glad you're enjoying it, Grand Duke."
Musphelun and Pahren locked eyes in silence.
A biting winter wind ruffled their hair as it passed.
Pahren spoke first.
"You must have much to do to right your wrongs. Got time to waste like this?"
"Not your concern."
"True... but I could handle a few tasks in your stead."
"Hah!"
Musphelun barked a laugh of disbelief.
"Think it over, Grand Duke. Our goals... might align."
"You're grasping at straws to save your skin. That desperate to live? Fine, off you go."
"Refusal? Well enough. Minds can change."
Pahren shrugged as if it were no loss and walked past Musphelun.
His steps carried him right up to Aster.
Pahren paused there, looking down at him.
"Tower Lord. The offer stands. I'll await your answer."
With that,
Pahren departed into the snow-covered field.
Aster watched him go for a moment before turning away. There stood Musphelun, rooted in place.
'What the...'
There had been something odd about the exchange between Musphelun and Pahren.
As if Pahren knew why Musphelun had chosen seclusion.
'Was the orphanage not his only reason for returning?'
And what was the Empire hiding?
As Aster pondered that far—
"Cough."
Musphelun's shoulders shook, and he staggered. His torso began to tilt.
"Grand Duke...!"
The Sakwol wizards rushed to him as one.
The backlash from forcing his damaged core to draw power.
But.
"St...op. I'm fine."
Musphelun steadied himself, waving off the Sakwol wizards as he fixed his pallid gaze on Aster.
"Tower Lord. Walk with me a moment."
Aster studied Musphelun.
Those eyes held something to say.
"......All right."
Musphelun was aiming for some end.
* * *
Musphelun ordered the Sakwol wizards to follow at a distance before setting off.
He headed toward the Second Black-White Slums.
Aster trailed silently behind. Musphelun didn't speak until they were far from the battlefield.
"My body's not what it used to be."
"......"
"Anyway, you must have questions."
His tone was kindly now, unlike before, but Aster's face stiffened as he regarded Musphelun.
And for good reason...
- You must have much to do to right your wrongs. Got time to waste like this?
- I could handle a few tasks in your stead.
Pahren's parting words lingered in his mind.
Yet Aster held back from probing their meaning. Musphelun seemed to sense it and spoke plainly.
"I wasn't hiding it. Just no reason to speak of it."
"What..."
"It's an old story. Care to hear?"
Aster nodded, and Musphelun smiled wryly before continuing.
It went back... quite a ways.
To the days of the Old War.
"Do you know why the Old War broke out?"
"I heard it was invasions and rebellions from neighboring kingdoms, led by the Hoaksen Kingdom..."
"To be precise, it was a rebellion of the great houses."
History recorded the Old War's spark as follows.
The ever-mightier great houses could no longer contain their ambition and finally raised banners against the heavens.
Neighboring kingdoms seized the chaos to invade.
Truly chaotic times, inside and out...
But why bring up the war's history now?
"The imperial house committed an unforgivable sin back then."
"A sin..."
"Doesn't the great houses' rebellion strike you as odd? Four houses fell in total. Two mage houses and two sword houses."
The number was telling.
Coincidence, perhaps—but two of each type rebelling in harmony?
"Ever heard where their grimoires and magic swords ended up after those houses fell?"
"......"
"For reference, those four weren't the only great houses to crumble in the Old War. Others in neighboring kingdoms did too."
What did that mean?
A little thought revealed the answer. It was just too absurd.
Which was why Musphelun was telling him now.
"You're saying the Old War... was a staged play orchestrated by the Empire and the kingdoms?"
"Exactly. A play to claim grimoires and magic swords."
Aster couldn't grasp it amid Musphelun's calm reply.
Grimoires and magic swords.
Yes, transcendent artifacts.
But considering the Old War's scale and toll, it wasn't a profitable venture for the Empire or kingdoms.
Why would it be?
The imperial house's weakened state and the great houses' rise stemmed directly from that war's aftermath.
'No, wait... more than that.'
If Musphelun spoke true, this was a massacre on an unimaginable scale.
"Is that... really true?"
"I saw it with my own eyes."
"What..."
"The two grimoires and two magic swords held by the imperial house. All listed as lost."
"......"
Musphelun spoke plainly, but guilt laced his voice—an guilt that could never wash away.
That was why he'd turned from the world.
War hero.
Mage of Conclusion.
What did 'conclusion' even mean?
The Old War was a self-inflicted drama by the Empire and kingdoms.
A scheme to crush rising great houses while securing weapons against them.
In the end, the Empire claimed two grimoires and two magic swords. Each kingdom crushed its own great houses and seized the spoils.
Thus... 'conclusion' was the wrong word.
The blood in his veins had started that war from the beginning.
Aster's voice rang in his ears right then.
"So the 'tasks' you must do..."
"I have to right those wrongs."
"Was that your goal from the start?"
In other words, was the orphanage mere catalyst? But Musphelun shook his head calmly.
"That resolve is recent. Once I reentered the world... my heart wouldn't stay still."
At this point, Aster couldn't help but wonder.
'It is surprising, sure.'
A hidden truth behind the Old War. And Senior Musphelun harboring such intent.
But that only deepened the mystery.
"Why tell me this?"
"No real reason. Didn't want needless misunderstandings... and no cause to hide it from you."
Musphelun finished with a faint smile. Kindly as ever... yet somehow relieved. From that, Aster realized one truth.
How long this secret had tormented Senior Musphelun.
Perhaps this old wizard had waited a lifetime.
For a day to unburden it to someone.
Aster gazed at the guilt-ridden old wizard, lips parting and closing several times.
After a pause.
After much hesitation, Aster spoke.
"What do you plan to do?"
How would he right that wrong?
Musphelun replied evenly.
"I've a method in mind. But it's not for you to know. Don't worry about it. Rather..."
He looked at Aster then.
"Leave the Second Black-White Slums to the Second Black-White Slums. Didn't I say to set down your burden?"
"......"
Musphelun placed a hand on Aster's head as he spoke. Just as he might with his disciple, Obern.
"You live for the future. Let us old ones live in the past."
"......"
The future is seized.
The past is defended.
"My old body overflows for righting wrongs and living in the past. So..."
Musphelun said.
"Don't set foot in the Second Black-White Slums again."
In that moment, Aster understood.
He'd thought enlightenment had stripped away all lingering ties and lightened his load... but it hadn't been complete.
And now.
...At last, he was free.
The old wizard gladly took up the burden of the young wizard racing toward the future.
And.
Whiiiish—
As the chill wind swept through,
the young wizard posed a question to the old wizard.
"Senior."
"Speak."
"If... there were a way to restore your core, what then?"
This was the finest gift the young wizard could offer.