Chapter 82
Chapter 82
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 82
Chapter Title: Duke Wendinel
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"...You've done quite the flashy job."
A middle-aged gentleman wearing an expensive pair of glasses over one eye and sporting a neatly trimmed Kaiser mustache.
With one hand clasped behind his back, he used a handkerchief held in the other to cover his nose and mouth as he grimaced.
Every gesture exuded such refined elegance that it proved this middle-aged man's status was anything but ordinary.
The middle-aged man's name was Darius von Wendinel.
He was the lord ruling over the Wendinel Ducal House and Fran Kingdom's undisputed number two.
Though he didn't occupy one of the continent's eleven thrones, when considering his importance on the continent, he was in no way inferior.
After all, more than half of the alliance's magic weapons had been born from his hands.
He was a man who could alter the very flow of war in a way entirely different from those superhumans who sat upon thrones.
Only the Holy Empire's great magic armor had appeared and snuffed out his life so futilely.
If it made them realize magic wouldn't work on him, the tide of war might shift.
"When an elder speaks to you, isn't it basic manners to at least respond? I wouldn't think a scion of the prestigious Carviot Count family lacks even that much etiquette."
If his father, Bacchus von Carviot, was like unyielding rock, Duke Wendinel resembled a sculpture carved in perfect golden proportions without a single flaw.
There wasn't the slightest gap anywhere in his bearing.
'Well, as one of the continent's top mages, he's got to be at least this good.'
"My apologies for the rudeness, Your Grace. I was so taken aback at meeting someone I've long admired in person that I belatedly forgot my manners."
"That excuse doesn't fit this scene at all."
Duke Wendinel snorted dismissively, as if my explanation was utterly absurd.
And rightly so, because between the duke and me...
"Urghhh..."
"Oh man... Oh man... I'm dying..."
"Healer... Get a healer..."
...countless soldiers were writhing on the floor, groaning in agony.
And standing before them like an immovable mountain was Miron, gripping not his battle hammer but a mere club.
"A guest beating up the host's soldiers? Is there any kingdom on this vast continent with such barbaric traditions? Did Bacchus, that friend of mine, teach you to act like this?"
Bacchus, that friend of mine. At first glance, it might sound like a close acquaintance scolding his friend's child on his behalf.
'No knightly family likes the Wendinel Ducal House.'
The Fran Kingdom, a nation obsessed with magic. And a figure at the pinnacle of that kingdom.
From birth, they could never mesh with knightly families.
Sure, one could badmouth the king in private company, but this was right in front of the Wendinel Ducal House's spatial magic circle.
In a public setting with so many eyes watching, he even omitted his father's title when addressing him.
The implication was clear.
He truly viewed Bacchus von Carviot as beneath him, deep in his heart.
The alliance's continental superhuman, the lord of the most vital house even in the powerful Ikenia Kingdom, a stronghold of the alliance.
"If I may be so bold, Your Grace, that doesn't seem quite right."
Tap, tap!
I brushed the dust off my rear from where I'd been lounging at one end of the spatial magic circle and spoke up.
"It was precisely because it was the esteemed Wendinel Ducal House—the family of the duke I've long respected, who devised so many magic weapons to fend off the vile Holy Empire—that I couldn't stand by and watch their soldiers' lax discipline."
Twitch!
One of the duke's eyebrows twitched at my choice of words.
"We came all this way at the ducal house's 'request.' Yet that soldier over there had the gall to..."
I pointed at a soldier standing rigidly with his head bowed right next to the magic circle, hands behind his back.
"...escort us to the stables. After a few words of reprimand and hopping on the magic circle to travel, the soldiers here suddenly shoved all sorts of menacing things at us."
"Th-that's because the young master wrecked our soldiers first!"
One soldier who'd been rolling on the ground after getting thrashed by Miron cried out indignantly.
"Oh dear. Didn't they even check who we were or if they'd been rude first? The world, such poor internal communication!"
I placed a hand on my forehead in mock pity.
"This level of laxity is truly unprecedented, Your Grace. As the saying goes, soldiers are the face that shows a house's discipline."
My final line—'I couldn't just stand by and watch the ducal house's crumbling dignity and discipline.'
...made the already impassive Duke Wendinel's expression grow even colder.
He was the pinnacle of brilliant mages, after all.
There was no way he didn't grasp my intent.
"...You've got a sharp tongue."
As Duke Wendinel opened his mouth to say more...
"No, our soldiers fulfilled their duty perfectly."
A clear voice rang out from behind the duke. A voice as pure and bright as a nightingale's song.
All eyes naturally turned toward the source.
The voice's resonance was that captivating. But that wasn't the only reason.
Its owner was the second most noble blood in the Wendinel Ducal House present—nay, in some ways, the most exalted.
So it was only natural that gazes converged there.
Of course, I looked for a slightly different reason.
'Aria von Wendinel...'
The genius magic engineer with the continent's greatest talent, even comparing before and after the Holy Empire's unification.
The Crimson Flame Mage who'd rolled up my sleeves and driven me to end my own life.
It was her.
"A spatial magic circle is the pinnacle of magic, consuming vast amounts of mana. Using it on people who can't even properly grasp its value is simply wasteful."
Aria glanced around at the groaning soldiers, then flashed a bright smile at me.
"And most guests comply once we explain that to them."
In short, we weren't guests because we'd ignored the ducal house's explanation and used the magic circle willy-nilly.
"For people who supposedly did that, everyone else seems to be using the magic circle just fine without us."
"Oh my! That's a misunderstanding. Aside from you two, there were no knights. We figured since you're knights, riding horses would be better for your physical training—a simple courtesy. And..."
Aria extended a hand toward the soldier who'd been bowing his head and murmured, "Fly."
The soldier's body slowly rose into the air.
"Can we truly call guests who don't respect the host's traditions... guests? Seen that way, our soldiers' discipline is impeccable, don't you think?"
Stopping intruders who weren't guests was a soldier's duty.
She'd smoothly turned the blame on us for ignoring procedures and barging in.
Sharp as ever.
No wonder Duke Wendinel doted on her so.
"Ah, miss..."
In fact, the soldiers rolling on the ground now gazed at her with expressions of rapture.
But...
"Ah! Of course, if the guest had been Princess Seira instead of Young Master Jerome, we would've happily escorted her onto the spatial magic circle. Someone with such sparkling talent might gain some insight from it, unlike us ignorant knights."
Her short titter and that classic Fran Kingdom remark dismissing knights...
...proved the current Aria hadn't learned a thing.
About the terrifying power knights wielded when magic failed.
The regret that crushed her after losing her country in my past life was probably born from moments like this childhood arrogance piling up.
'Well, plenty of time till Philador.'
No need to rush.
That much time would suffice to teach this frog in a well about the world beyond magic.
"Haha, amusing words. Soldiers who can't even stop two people fulfilled their duty? So in Fran Kingdom, entertaining guests is their job?"
"...!!"
Perhaps unused to direct sarcasm after a life of everyone pandering to her...
...Aria von Wendinel's face rapidly chilled.
Her flushed cheeks parted as if to retort, but...
Clap!
Duke Wendinel's clap was a touch faster.
With a light clap to draw attention, he spoke.
"Enough. Our families think differently from the start, so why waste time on pointless debate? We seem to have much to discuss anyway."
I merely shrugged at the duke's words.
"No reason for me to refuse. My journey to Philador is pressing, with a mission attached. No need to waste energy here."
The retainers around the duke bristled at my insolence, but he raised a hand to halt them.
"Good. No point dragging this out. Let's wrap up quickly."
Duke Wendinel ordered a nearby retainer to treat the fallen soldiers, then...
"Rest for now. We'll talk at dinner. No matter how urgent, I have no desire to share air in a sealed room with dust-covered folk like you."
As if finished here, Duke Wendinel turned on his heel and left before I could reply.
'Hm, somehow even more...'
...irritating than expected.
Aria shot me a glare for the shot I'd landed on her, then soon followed her father.
Once Duke Wendinel and Aria led the way out, a single servant remained and approached us.
"...Please follow me. I'll show you to your quarters."
Perhaps due to our antics in the house, the servant's demeanor brimmed with wariness.
The room we reached following him was clean, but...
"...Cramped."
...it somehow felt low-grade.
Truly.
Not a single thing from start to finish pleased me in this damn place.
"Gack... Hack..."
Thud!
The merchant, skin shriveled like a mummy, collapsed after staggering step by step.
Even after all life had drained away, his will to survive kept him crawling onward.
But before the overwhelming predator's power, it was mere futile struggling.
"Hm... Not this."
Behind the fallen man.
The man who'd closed his eyes and savored the taste shook his head in dissatisfaction.
"...Have my tastes become so refined? This is troubling."
Ordinary food brought no joy from mere eating.
But that worry was fleeting.
"I wonder what it'll taste like...?"
Thinking of the delicacy awaiting at his nearing destination, ecstasy bloomed on the man's face.
Though much time had passed since joining "Muddily Flowing Water" under the "Black Wing"...
...he'd never tasted one who'd mastered the same power.
Same affiliation was off-limits, of course. The shadow wouldn't allow it.
Sure, "Clearly Flowing Water" members were fair game, but finding them on this vast continent? No easy task.
Without revealing power, they blended seamlessly—impossible to track.
Heh heh heh.
The man chuckled softly, leaving the mummy-crumbled corpse behind.
He couldn't suppress the thrill no matter how he tried.
According to the shadow, his prized delicacy had reached the Wendinel Ducal House in Fran Kingdom.
Fresh news: he'd rendezvous there with the duke's daughter.
What joyous tidings!
The Wendinel Ducal House—a family that made its name through magic on the continent.
And their lady? A famed genius, no less.
Surely steeped in tremendous magical talent.
Not content with clear water versed in heterogenous power—he could savor a talent-packed mage too.
"Hoo... Who else has received a mission as blissful as mine?"
For the Black Wing who'd assigned this ecstatic task, a toast.
The man briefly bowed his head toward the Black Wing's direction in respect.
Three moons in the sky illuminated him.
Clouds briefly veiled them, plunging it into darkness. When they parted once more...
...the man who'd bowed his head was nowhere to be seen.