Chapter 105
Chapter 105
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 105
Chapter Title: Siegfried (1)
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Winter in Hys was a blanket of pure white.
The swirling snowflakes blanketed the harvest-barren farmlands, turning them into a pristine canvas, while Dallante Plaza was decked out in romantic splendor.
Siegfried hovered above the city, wrapped in furs, taking in the panoramic view.
"It's enormous."
He'd expected as much from an eastern archduke's domain, but this exceeded even his imaginings.
And compared to other cities, it had a weighty presence. Tall buildings abounded, streets were impeccably clean, and the townsfolk wore bright expressions.
Winter was supposed to be the season of hunger, but that clearly didn't apply here.
It was, after all, the domain with the kingdom's largest farmlands.
His gaze settled on one spot then. A building at the far end of Belvat Street, Hys's central thoroughfare.
Nearing completion, it took the form of a temple—the Pyro Church, to be precise.
"The spot where the Zenith Church used to be, right?"
He knew of the Upton incident.
Afterward, the magical world had begun keeping the Zenith Church in check. Mages were individualistic by nature, so few paid the Upton affair much mind.
But with a royal decree issued, they had no choice but to comply.
When the client demands it, you deliver.
In any case, the nearly finished temple struck him as quite beautiful.
"Pretty impressive, huh?"
Like a work of art, perhaps?
As he admired the Pyro Church, a man caught his eye.
A fierce-looking fellow, with an aura radiating from him that was no joke.
Curious about the man, Siegfried stared more openly.
"Hm?"
The man flinched and looked skyward.
Ayrak, deputy bishop of the Pyro Church's Hys branch and member of the Holy Enforcers, furrowed his brow.
"What was that just now?"
He'd sensed a strange gaze from the sky.
Faint as it was, Ayrak tilted his head and muttered to himself.
"Must've been my imagination. I've been swamped with exhausting work lately. Getting jumpy, I guess?"
Dismissing it as a false alarm, Ayrak resumed walking.
And Siegfried emerged from sub-space with a heavy exhale.
"Hoo! What kind of senses does that guy have?"
He'd sensed it wasn't ordinary, but to detect a gaze from that distance...
Whoever he was, he was definitely a high-ranking Pyro priest.
Not that it mattered if he got caught, but awkwardly locking eyes after sneaking a peek? No thanks.
Siegfried hated awkward situations.
"Enough sightseeing. Time to handle business."
He eyed the massive castle to the north of Hys.
The lord's castle and the grand estate housing the Welton bloodline.
His target was there.
Jamie Welton. He'd come to Hys to meet the magic world's rising star, said to possess the continent's greatest talent.
The problem? The powerful guardian protecting that target.
He thought of Welton Count, a man he'd never laid eyes on.
"The elders pushed me into this..."
Still, he was curious to see one of the kingdom's premier Sword Masters in the flesh.
'He doesn't care much for the magical world, does he?'
He'd heard the man despised their factional squabbles.
Siegfried could relate. One of the Magic Tower's Seven Elders himself, he avoided the place because the infighting disgusted him.
The issue was dragging Jamie Welton into that viper's nest.
The other elders—those geezers—hadn't come themselves for a reason.
Fear of catching a sword from Welton Count.
'As if the Count would actually swing at us?'
Word was he wasn't the type to harm others lightly. Quite mild-mannered unless seriously provoked.
This wasn't a kidnapping to the Magic Tower—just a proposal. Killing him for that would make them psychopaths.
In any event, the elders had asked Siegfried, and he'd accepted.
Not solely out of deference to them, though.
'Entered 6th Class already, huh?'
Rumors swirled in the Magic Tower that Jamie Welton was already a 6th Class mage.
A boy just old enough to join, already at high mage level.
Hard to believe, and probably exaggerated.
Even so, he'd at least reached 5th Class.
"This is getting exciting already."
Until Jamie, "genius" had always been Siegfried's moniker.
He'd earned it, becoming the youngest elder with unmatched talent.
But before Jamie, he was just a dim firefly.
Whether the boy joined the Tower or not didn't matter to him either way.
"With excitement in my heart..."
Space twisted, swallowing Siegfried.
"Time to meet him."
He vanished.
Ziiing—
A strange hum echoed.
Jamie looked up, feeling the vibration at his sword tip. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, trickling down his nose.
He saw the space before him warp slightly. It quickly mended and vanished.
That was proof enough.
"Father."
"......"
Welton Count stared at the scene his son had created with his swing, at a loss for words.
The faint warp had faded fast, but he couldn't dismiss it lightly.
'He's already...'
Four months.
The time he'd spent teaching Jamie the basics of Void Slash.
Void Slash was the extraordinary, powerful sword art that built the current Welton house. It was notoriously difficult, with sky-high mastery requirements.
Fewer than ten past family heads had fully mastered it.
The basics were brutally hard too—some said harder than mastery itself.
'And yet... he's grasped them already.'
Void Slash cleaved the void.
In other words, you had to cut space, even just a little.
If you could, you'd mastered the basics.
It had taken Welton Count two years to do so himself.
But four months?
He'd known his son had sword talent. Jamie had elevated his own perfected White Sea technique. That went beyond mere skill.
Even so, he'd thought Void Slash an exception...
"I can't stop marveling every time I see you grow."
"It's all thanks to your great teaching, Father."
"Such humility."
The Count chuckled at his son's shameless flattery.
"Nothing left to teach."
"What? I've barely started."
"You've mastered the basics. From here, it's a battle of enlightenment."
"Enlightenment..."
"As you know, Void Slash differs greatly from ordinary swordsmanship."
Jamie nodded.
Void Slash. He hadn't realized before learning it, but it was no normal art.
No forms. No stances.
Instead, the "Welton Ten Forms" substituted.
Pour Void Slash into the Ten Forms—that was the Welton secret sword art's essence.
Master the basics, and you could slice space, however slightly. Higher realms would expand that slash, eventually cleaving even the incorporeal.
Jamie's current level might only nick objects, but with growing insight, Void Slash's ferocity would escalate.
'A truly wondrous art.'
No one in his past life wielded anything like it.
"Ask anytime something comes up in practice."
"Got it."
"Son."
The Count fondly ruffled his son's hair, proud of the crisp reply.
Then a servant approached.
"Master. A guest has arrived."
"A guest? No prior word."
"Well..."
The servant glanced tensely at Jamie.
The Count frowned.
"Who is it?"
"One of the Magic Tower's Seven Elders."
At "Magic Tower," the Count's expression darkened.
It had been mere days since New Year's.
Only one reason for a Magic Tower heavyweight to visit House Welton.
"Come for me, I suppose."
Jamie Welton, turning eight this year.
Old enough to join the Magic Tower.
And they'd long coveted his prodigious talent.
Jamie and the Count knew it well.
"Not to take you as a disciple."
Rumors pegged him at 6th Class already. Most doubted it, but agreed he'd cleared 5th at least.
At 5th Class, you took disciples—not the reverse.
"They want to recruit me, then."
"Seems so."
The Count smiled in reply. His mouth, anyway. His eyes remained icy.
He didn't know why the man disliked the Magic Tower, but if it was recruitment, the choice was Jamie's.
Welton Count always put his son first.
'The Seventh Elder, was it?'
He paid little heed to the Tower, but the Seven Elders were an exception.
'The genius before me was one too, they said.'
Space magic specialist.
Siegfried, if memory served.
'I'd like to meet him.'
Jamie wanted to ask to tag along but read his father's face.
'He's pretty pissed.'
Whatever provoked it, even a genius mage wouldn't handle the Count easily.
And he wouldn't want to show that side to his son.
"I'll be waiting."
"Thought you'd insist on coming."
"You'd say no anyway."
"Getting perceptive."
The Count ruffled his hair again.
"Rest in your room."
"I'll swing the sword some more."
"That's the spirit."
The Count departed with the servant, tossing a "good work" over his shoulder.
Jamie watched him go, shrugged, and resumed swinging.
Siegfried admired the opulent parlor.
Archducal estates were a class apart.
The vast domain impressed, but this mansion's upkeep was flawless. Artifacts disguised as decorations dotted everywhere.
From comfort enhancers to intruder-blasting security ones.
Incredible variety.
"Archdukes live differently."
Not matching the Magic Tower's facilities—that was the kingdom's magical pinnacle.
No comparison.
Still, this place, with teacups like sculptures, felt cozier than the austere Tower.
Though he couldn't relax with his upcoming host.
The door opened. A man entered, valet in tow.
Siegfried set down his teacup.
'Ho.'
The man fixed him with cold eyes.
A chill ran through Siegfried.
This was Welton Count, Sword Master rivaling the kingdom's best.
The Count spoke.
"Pleased to meet you. I am Welton Count."
The grave greeting drew an instinctive smile from Siegfried.
"Seventh Elder of the Magic Tower, Siegfried."
"I've heard the tales. So..."
Seated, the Count's voice dropped low.
"What brings you unannounced to my Welton hearth?"
Siegfried felt a lion looming before him.