Chapter 349
Chapter 349
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 349
>Chapter Title: I'm Begging You Like This
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Everyone gathered in the room was overcome with a suffocating terror, as if they were all choking.
In the midst of it, a chilling voice wormed into their ears.
“Fine, whatever. You're jumping in for a big score, I get it.”
The overseers flicked their eyes toward the mage. Before they knew it, he was slouched crookedly in the head seat.
“You see this kid sitting there like he's the big boss, and you think you can push him around. He's handling a major project, so he must have some pull... but what’s he really got? Maybe you think you could just crush him. I know, I get that feeling. But here's the thing... right?”
Tap, tap.
A pale, slender finger drummed on the table. The hollow echo filled the space.
A brief silence.
Hoo, ha...
The overseers waited for the mad mage's words to continue, using their own ragged breaths and pounding heartbeats as background noise.
No, to be precise, they just desperately wished this ordeal would end.
Then, the mad mage's voice spread through the room once more.
“First off, let's talk. Senior.”
“...Speak.”
The old mage, proxy for the grand duke, barely managed to open his mouth.
The mad mage posed his question while staring at the empty table.
“You must have a line to our chief steward. Why didn't you notify him?”
“...”
“Don't say it's a distance issue. You know me, and I know you. Surely you had some way to get word out?”
“...”
This was what puzzled the mad mage.
Why hadn't he made contact?
There was a direct communication crystal orb linked to the chief steward, and expanding its range with a magic circle would have been child's play for someone who'd survived old wars.
Yet he hadn't reached out to Evelyn.
Why?
Of course, the Sakwol mage had done his duty. He had... but it still struck the mad mage as odd.
Still, this wasn't the place to dive deeper.
“We'll talk about this later.”
“...Understood.”
“More importantly... you.”
“...”
The man who was called out lifted his gaze to the mad mage.
He was a man with the sharp edge of a well-honed blade, the proxy sent by the young head of the Lortel family.
“Let me see that sword.”
“...!”
Shing—
The man's eyes widened in shock.
Without any warning, the sword at his waist flew into the mad mage's hand.
What followed from the mad mage was bizarre.
“Hmm.”
He brought the blade close to his face as if sniffing it, then stared straight through the steel. For a good while.
The man watched the mad mage's actions in stunned silence.
It wasn't long before the mad mage spoke.
“No blood smell... huh?”
“...”
“Sir Vark. Is this a standard-issue dev-site blade?”
“...No.”
“Right? It's too well-made for that. Nicely tempered, too. So, what's the story here?”
Clunk.
When the mad mage set the sword on the table, the knight felt his heart drop.
A mocking voice slithered into his ear.
“What, were you scared? That's why you bolted? Or were you too noble to dirty your blade with monster blood? Which is it?”
“...”
Just like the Sakwol mage before him, the knight had nothing to say.
As the words implied, he hadn't drawn his sword once during the week the wyverns had attacked.
He kept silent, waiting for his turn to pass, when change struck suddenly.
...Boom!
“...Guh, urk!”
A monstrous pressure clamped his heart.
The knight clutched his chest, writhing in agony. Through his barely raised eyes, the mad mage's emotionless face came into sharp focus.
“Seeing you just sit there like dead weight, I get why your master sent you. Might as well die. That's what she wants. Why else send trash like you? Right?”
“Guh, ur...”
His heart squeezed tighter. It felt ready to burst.
But a knight was a knight, it seemed.
Even as his mind clouded, he didn't beg for his life. He simply endured the pain.
On the other hand, a thought crossed his mind.
‘Really...?’
Had the young head truly sent him here to die?
It felt unjust, after all the years he'd lived as her shadow knight.
But he accepted his fate.
What choice was there? If his master wished him dead.
...That was when it happened.
The pressure vanished in an instant.
“...Hah!”
The knight gasped for air, pawing at his chest to check if his heart had burst.
The mad mage's voice wormed into his ear.
“You live because of your master.”
“...”
“You didn't beg for your life today because of your iron will. I spared you. Remember that. Answer.”
“Un...derstood.”
“And you, Viscount.”
“...Speak.”
“You said you need justification to request aid from your lord? Be careful. That justification might cost you your head.”
“...”
The viscount couldn't respond.
In this moment, the mad mage's presence overshadowed his noble status and the exalted bloodline behind him.
“And...”
The mad mage tapped the table—tap, tap—and scanned the room's occupants one by one.
The pressure he'd unleashed had long dissipated, but no one dared move.
No, they couldn't.
Even a twitch of a finger might draw the mad mage's gaze.
Amid it all.
“Listen up, all of you.”
The mad mage's voice echoed through the space.
“Like I said before, if you're here to work, just work. Don't scheme for extra cuts, don't plot for an easier ride. Stick to your damn duties. Got it? Sir Vark, that goes for you too. How do you let a trash viscount knight grab the employer's throat?”
“...”
“You only open your mouths at the dev site for one of two reasons. First, if we're doing something stupid. Second, if there's meaningful business for the development. If you yap at any other time...”
Crunch, cruuunch.
The space warped. No, to be exact, it wasn't the space itself.
The meeting room's walls, ceiling, and table twisted like melting lumps of metal.
Those seated trembled at the corners of their eyes at the bizarre sight they'd never witnessed.
Even to magic novices, it was no ordinary mana manipulation.
...No explanation needed—everyone understood.
What happened if they pulled tricks.
As all eyes took in the eerie scene, the mad mage spoke.
“Let's play nice, yeah? You all came to get rich. So why make me dance with swords.”
“...”
“Please, don't make me apologize. I'm begging you like this.”
The mad mage bowed his head in supplication.
But no one took it as a plea.
...And so, the first day in Arapurgin drew to a close.
* * *
Atop a mountain peak in the Arapurgin Range.
Under the bright moonlight, a massive something crouched.
Its body was pitch-black. The scales cloaking it gleamed like obsidian, and its eyes resembled yellow gems.
Its vertically slit pupils contracted and dilated repeatedly as it gazed down at the mountainside, fixing on the vast plain far below.
To be precise, on the human nest atop that plain.
Even at night, lights blazed brightly as humans scurried about. They clutched bladed weapons, their movements far from ordinary.
...Why?
It was a stark change from the days before.
The thing... the wyvern who called itself ‘King’ pondered what had caused the humans' sudden shift.
What was today's anomaly?
After some thought.
The king realized.
‘...Carriage.’
Yes, what the humans called a ‘carriage’ had entered their nest today.
Considering no carriages had arrived recently, it was noteworthy.
So, what had ridden in that carriage?
The king knew well that few humans could ride one, and from that, grasped the gravity of the situation.
The arrival of so few had revived the group's morale.
Meaning those few were no ordinary humans.
This needed checking.
Roooar—
The king raised its head and opened its maw, the air vibrating as its roar spread in all directions.
The low rumble echoed through every crevice of the mountain... and soon.
Kieee! Kieek!
Responses echoed from all sides.
Flap, flap!
Rough wingbeats followed as wyverns swarmed in from everywhere.
The king looked down at wyverns half its size or less; they cowered in fear.
Kieek, keek!
Hundreds of wyverns clung to the cliffs, awaiting the king's command.
The king inspected them one by one, selecting individuals.
The weakest in the flock... the old and sick.
Roooar—
At the king's roar, all but the chosen took to the air in unison.
Relieved at not being picked.
And.
Kieek, keek...
As the chosen trembled in terror, the king regarded them with indifferent eyes.
When would be best?
This time... it seemed he'd have to check personally.
Like the first day, when he'd led the wyverns on the hunt.
Of course, not with these weakened ones. Like that day, he'd watch from above the clouds.
To do that...
[......]
The king focused on the energy of the red gem it cradled. Beneath its coiled body, a massive gem protruded.
Red currents swirled at the red gem's core; only then could the king absorb its power.
This time, the absorption window was...
By human reckoning, one day.
Gauging the time, the king gently closed its eyes.
Thump— thump—
It absorbed the pulsing red gem's power and fell into brief slumber.
As the king slept.
Kieek, keek...
The old and sick trembled in hushed terror.
Overwhelmed by the king's presence, they couldn't even think to flee, merely awaiting death.
...Among them, one old specimen looked up at the sky.
The moon reflected in its eyes was freedom.
One it would never have again.