Chapter 73
Chapter 73
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 73
Chapter Title: Divinum Grand Temple Revisited
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A residential neighborhood in the heart of Perero Castle.
A young man with brown hair swung a massive earth staff taller than himself, glaring at a black-haired iron puppet.
The earth staff, engraved with countless windmill patterns, whipped through the air as if one with the youth. It soon resonated with his heartbeat, vibrating sharply and intensely several times.
As the youth extended his hand, a colorless energy rippled upward like rising heat haze. It split into countless blades of wind, hurtling straight toward the iron puppet.
Bam! Bam! Thud!
Deep gouges appeared across the iron puppet from the relentless impacts. If it had been human, it would've been sliced into quartered chunks of meat. The brown-haired youth nodded in satisfaction.
At that moment, a servant's voice came from outside. It was Paul.
"Young Master Hubeo. Are you inside?"
"Paul! Don't you know I'm in secluded training right now?!"
Paul's voice trembled at Hubeo's sharp tone.
"Th-the Duke has invited you to lunch."
"Great-grandfather has?"
"Yes. He insists on seeing you today."
Hubeo pondered seriously. It had been over half a year of secluded training, cutting ties with the outside world. He felt a twinge of regret at ending it now.
But it was a summons from the Duke, his great-grandfather. He'd achieved some results anyway, so it seemed fine to answer the call today.
"Got it. Open the door."
"Yes, sir."
As Paul opened the door, Hubeo began casting a spell. He vanished completely, reappearing right in front of Paul.
Paul startled back in surprise, and Hubeo flashed a gentle smile.
"Don't be so shocked. It's a 5th-circle spell, Instant Teleport. Haha."
"P-pardon? Instant Teleport?"
Hubeo pressed a finger to his lips.
"Shh. Don't tell a soul. Even if I'm a genius mage, I have the deep humility to know my limits."
"Yes, sir. Understood."
"Alright, let's go."
"Yes."
Hubeo walked a few steps, then glanced slyly at Paul.
"I'm only saying this because I'm worried about you—keep it secret."
"No need to fret. I'll take this secret to my grave."
"You don't have to go that far."
"Pardon?"
"Nothing."
Hubeo let out a short sigh. He hadn't pegged Paul as the tight-lipped type. Seemed like a waste of mana after all.
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"Please, come on in."
Hubeo followed Paul into the luncheon room. The long table was empty—no one else around. A far cry from the usual bustle of family members.
"Where is everyone?"
"The Duke wished to see only you, young master."
"I see."
"Yes. He seems to have something important to discuss."
Hubeo smiled warmly. A private audience with great-grandfather—ever since acquiring the Storm God's Earth Staff Alroim, his standing in the family had completely changed.
And that was just the start. His cousins, once rivals for succession, now couldn't meet his eyes. Relatives and retainers scrambled to curry his favor.
The Storm God's Earth Staff Alroim was the divine relic cherished by Reynold Perero, the Duke who founded the Perero line—a symbol of the house. Securing it all but guaranteed his place as heir.
Hubeo sat with refined poise. As the successor to the Duke, every gesture mattered.
"The Duke is entering."
Hubeo rose politely to his feet.
A elderly man with a long, flowing beard soon entered. It was Perero Duke. Well past ninety, yet still hale and hearty, he settled at the table with the aid of butlers and servants.
"Hubeo. Sit."
"Yes, sir."
Silence hung as soup was served. The Duke spooned some and spoke.
"So, how did the secluded training go?"
Hubeo fidgeted briefly before replying formally.
"My talents are humble; I achieved no great results."
Perero Duke furrowed his brow slightly.
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
Then Paul boldly stepped forward.
The Duke's expression and Hubeo's oddly humble tone—Paul's long experience in the ducal house screamed that now was the time to speak up.
"Your Grace. Young Master Hubeo advanced to 5th-circle mage just recently."
"Paul! Have you already forgotten my words on humility?!"
As Hubeo's voice boomed, Perero Duke broke into a bright smile.
"Of course. Our Perero house prides itself on humility. Hubeo, you've got a cheeky servant there."
"My apologies. I've failed in his training."
"Then he must be punished. How so?"
Hubeo answered with feigned displeasure.
"I hear there's a strict butler training institute in the capital. I'll send him there for a thorough schooling."
"Good thinking. No need for you to handle it personally—that would be unbecoming. Well done."
"Thank you."
Paul glanced bewilderedly between the Duke and Hubeo. This family corner was utterly baffling. Praise sounded like scolding, scolding like praise.
Even this time was no different.
Butler training was notoriously grueling and strict, but graduates rose to semi-noble status as butlers—albeit low-ranking.
Perero Duke turned back to Hubeo.
"You've worked hard. Reaching 5th-circle at your age—that's nearly on par with that one's growth."
"Who do you mean?"
"Sam."
Perero Duke scowled at the name. Hubeo caught on and piled on flattery.
"Ah, that slave-born 9th-circle mage?"
"Ugh, yes. A slave who struts around as a 9th-circle mage. Tsk tsk. Humility is the mark of true character."
"Indeed, sir."
Sam was revered across the continent for his prowess and character, but Hubeo held his tongue. The Duke embodied jealousy—praising Sam here could spell trouble.
Perero Duke pulled out a document and slid it to Hubeo.
"Take it."
"What is this?"
"A recommendation for assistant professor in the Imperial Noble Academy's Magic Department. Chancellor Bilke asked for a skilled mage recommendation. I've been pondering, but you seem perfect."
Hubeo snatched up the letter eagerly. Professors at the Imperial Noble Academy were the empire's intellectual elite. Even assistant professor was a boon.
One had to pass through that to become full professor.
And Hubeo had squandered his school days with bad friends—a hellish time. This was prime payback.
"But how could I..."
"No need to decline. It's time you forged your own path. Teaching others lets you reflect on yourself—it'll greatly aid your magical journey."
"Understood. If you say so, great-grandfather, I'll accept."
Hubeo imagined himself surrounded by pretty coeds as he took the letter. Assistant professorship at the Academy was a must for elite mages. He'd worried his humility might make great-grandfather withdraw the offer.
Perero Duke lectured sternly.
"Study diligently there. Lately, new saints are emerging to lead the next generation. You must rise above them and honor our Perero name."
"Saints, sir?"
"You know them—Princess Sierra and Princess Ignatius, now Grand Saintesses."
"Ah, yes~."
Hubeo grumbled inwardly. Grand Saintesses were symbolic; outshining them seemed absurd. They played in a different league.
"Then there's Grand Duke Karl's heir Yosef, and the Yin-Yang Grand Saintess—who vanished before—has resurfaced."
Hubeo's eyes widened.
The Yin-Yang Grand Saintess was Shura, as far as he knew. Elven women often followed their husbands in death; her survival strained belief.
"Is Shura truly alive?"
"She is."
"That's odd."
"What is?"
"Her lover died last year."
Perero Duke tilted his head.
"Nonsense. He's alive—risen to the top among young saints with exceptional talent."
Hubeo gaped. He'd heard plain as day that Yahn was dead.
"N-no way?"
"Indeed. Alive."
"Who?"
"Kaoyan Anukin. Also called White Mask—a mid-tier Master swordsman. In the recent war with Robros Kingdom, he bested the undefeated genius Duke Bastain and defended Kara. His strategic genius is already consummate. He's your goal. Surpass his fame, and you'll be the best."
White Mask. Sounded legendary. Strategically crushing the great Duke Bastain? Human or monster?
Hubeo thought his great-grandfather demanded the impossible.
'Kaoyan Anukin... Wasn't Shura's lover Yahn?'
Chewing the name, Hubeo paled and shuddered.
Kaoyan Anukin meant "Yahn returned from hell" in ancient runes. Word order off, sure—but Yahn had barely passed that class, even after Hubeo fed him the exact exam questions the day before.
"I-it can't be..."
"What can't?"
"Nothing."
Hubeo reeled, dizzy. The demon lord Yahn lived—fully evolved, having beaten Duke Bastain.
'That damned bloodsucking leech won't die!'
He recalled his boastful hero tales, wiping his face. Especially the play 'Depraved Grand Duke's Heir Slain by Great Hero and Saintesses.' Fatal if Yahn saw it—he'd be as good as dead.
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In the carriage heading to Divinum Grand Temple, I scratched my itchy ear and eyed Armida sis, sitting alone up front. Her silent pout looked unsettling.
"Sis. Worried 'cause there's nothing to report?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"Dunno. Just feel grumpy."
Armida sis turned away curtly. Hogging that wide seat—what was her problem?
I wrapped my arms gently around Shura and Padila's waists on either side.
Padila spoke with concern.
"But is it okay for me to come here now?"
"You have to. Becoming a Guardian with a divine relic would be great."
"Still..."
Padila fretted over leaving her throne for Divinum Grand Temple. With the kingdom newly founded, duties piled up, and provincial lords' loyalty was shaky.
Her absence could stall construction—or spark rebellion.
"It's fine. Your subordinates from the war will handle it. If revolt brews, they'll crush it. Worst case, we'll sort it later. Focus on claiming a relic. As a Guardian saint with a god's backing, ruling gets way easier."
"But the odds are slim."
"Faith. Faith makes it happen."
Shura poked my side.
"Master. You haven't told her?"
"Told her what?"
"Three and a half turns, two and a half turns."
Shura meant the rigged selection, probably. But Padila didn't need to know. In her past life, she'd been chosen by the Grand Sage Gauss as Water Grand Saintess.
Still, no harm sharing—just in case.
"If you're that worried, teach her later."
"Got it."
The carriage soon reached Divinum Grand Temple's gates. Holy knights inspected briefly, but cleared us instantly upon ID check. Even a newborn kingdom's queen like Padila commanded respect—Divinum loved power.
"Your Majesty and party, your hotel is right here."
General Abdul, our escort, guided us to a hotel. Prague Hotel—its radiant emblem marked it as Light faction lodging.
"Hey! This is no good, no matter how you slice it. Book somewhere else!"
Armida sis finally snapped. As Dark Valkyrie, she was mortal enemies with the Light faction.
Abdul looked troubled, peering out the window.
"But this VIP room is the grandest, with the best views."
"Wanna die?"
Killing intent flared in Armida sis's eyes. I quietly told Abdul.
"Rebook a Dark faction hotel. She can't stay here."
"But canceling suddenly... And it's Prosia Day week—rooms are scarce."
"Could spark a huge incident. Even a small one works—just Dark faction."
"Yes, sir. Understood."
Abdul left awkwardly with some men. Seizing the moment, I stepped out to sightsee.
Divinum Grand Temple buzzed with pilgrims as ever.
'No incidents this time. Gonna enjoy it to the fullest.'
World's holiest site and top tourist spot. Home to the famed Degenerate Grand Temple with the best "water," and plenty of lovely elf maidens. This year—including last—I'd make the most of it.
< 다시 찾은 디비눔 대신전. > 끝