Chapter 56
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 56
Chapter Title: Counterattack
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'So, Dawn.'
Galahad muttered to himself.
His original plan had been to win them over through mental manipulation.
It was a technique that had even worked on the Demon Race; there was no way it would fail here.
However, the situation had changed.
For the better, in fact.
"The mana stones, you mean? We've met the quota."
Helkarton's eyes sharpened slightly.
'A quota, so they're paying a certain share.'
Galahad gave a slight nod.
"You may have met the previous quota. But haven't you bungled things several times recently? It's only natural the quota would increase."
Galahad clicked his tongue openly.
Helkarton's face crumpled into a deep frown.
"We used our own supplies."
Helkarton replied, his voice strained.
Galahad’s lips curled up at the appropriate pushback.
"I know. But are your things truly your own? What about the North, which has shrunk because of your failures? You're quite shameless."
"That is..."
"Are you going to say it doesn't matter? You'd best watch your tongue."
Helkarton's face turned red. He bit his lip so hard it formed a dimple beside his mouth. His eyes grew fierce.
The atmosphere had turned hostile, but—
"Hmm, you have a strange expression. Do you have a complaint?"
After all, he was from Dawn.
And this man was from the Black Magic Society.
The power dynamic between them was clear.
After a moment of twitching his lips, Helkarton forced an awkward smile.
"None at all."
"Right? Goodness, I was almost worried. I thought you might be one of those shameless bastards who ruins the North and still has no conscience."
"Shameless... Ha. Hahaha."
"Laughter usually brightens a person's face, but it makes you look even more hideous. Try not to smile if you can help it."
Galahad patted Helkarton's shoulder.
"Tsk, do you think I'd just tell you to increase the quota for no reason?"
At Galahad's words, a small glint appeared in the man's eyes.
"The Sanctuary is still open, isn't it?"
"...But the 7th Battalion is stationed there."
"You don't need to worry about that."
Helkarton's expression grew complicated. Galahad watched him intently.
Mages were strange folk to begin with, a side effect of magic's allure. Magic was more powerful than anything else.
These men had gone beyond being mere mages and had joined the Black Magic Society.
There was no way their ambition was small.
Galahad leaned in and whispered in the man's ear.
"I'm worried the Director is unfit to lead."
Helkarton's eyes widened as if they would tear.
"Unfit to lead, you say?"
"Isn't that right? After a string of recent failures, someone has to take responsibility. Don't you agree?"
A covetous gleam flickered in the man's murky eyes. Galahad's lips curled as he brushed off the man's shoulder.
"What do you think?"
The man remained silent at the follow-up question. Galahad waited patiently without rushing him.
The man's head dipped low before rising again.
"I see. To be honest, I was planning on cleaning up the Black Magic Society."
"...Cleaning up?"
The man looked Galahad up and down with questioning eyes, as if to ask, 'You came alone?'
Galahad smiled and snapped his fingers.
The pot-bellied man who had been writhing desperately on the ground suddenly had his head swell up like a balloon.
The men around him yelped and scrambled back.
Pop! The man's grossly swollen head exploded. Red blood splattered across the faces of those nearby.
It was thanks to a magic circle he had inscribed earlier, but these men were fools who couldn't comprehend such things.
To them, it would simply look like he had made a man's head explode with a snap of his fingers.
"You—!"
The mages pointed their staves at Galahad.
Galahad ignored them and continued to gaze steadily at Helkarton.
"I thought there might not be a suitable replacement for the Director, but—"
One of his subordinates' heads had just exploded.
Yet the emotion that surfaced in Helkarton's eyes was not fear or anger.
It was elation and ambition.
"It seems there is a suitable candidate after all."
A glint of faith shone in Helkarton's eyes.
The power to explode a man's head with a finger and the ability to interpret the beast tamer's magic circle were just minor pieces of evidence.
The core of his belief was his own ambition.
Mental manipulation was most effective in times like these. It was the same principle as fire magic growing stronger with oil.
"Isn't that right?"
Galahad patted the man's shoulder, channeling his mana into him.
Helkarton's eyes gleamed even brighter.
What little reason he had left seemed to evaporate, though he didn't appear to notice.
His desire to become the Director had blinded him.
A moment of silence followed. Helkarton's eyes darted about.
When the man's mouth opened again, Galahad let out a small laugh.
"The Director is a very cautious man. He's wary of even me, his trusted aide. Moreover, there are too many defensive installations. Heading to the main assembly hall is extremely dangerous. And at the slightest sign of trouble, he'll surely flee on his own. He did the same in the capital—"
Helkarton said, grinding his teeth.
"In the capital?"
"Yes, when the Black Magic Society was shaken by a certain group, he was the one who ran away alone. He's undoubtedly prepared a bolt-hole."
Galahad was well aware of the Black Magic Society's talent for escaping.
If what Helkarton said was true, chasing after him wasn't a very good option.
"The Society is being shaken now, too, yet he sent me instead of coming himself, didn't he?"
'He holds quite a grudge.'
Galahad clicked his tongue softly at Helkarton's spiteful tone.
"Then we'll have to draw him out."
"He'll never come out."
Helkarton said in a firm voice.
At that, Galahad's lips curled upwards.
"There's no such thing as never."
Not understanding, Helkarton narrowed his eyes.
"Ah, is there a way to communicate with the Director?"
"Yes—"
Helkarton took out a round object. It looked like a small stone set inside a jewelry box.
It appeared quite crude at first glance, but Galahad knew its value.
No, he couldn't help but know.
"A communication orb."
To see one here. Galahad let out a small sigh.
Communication orbs were magical artifacts of considerable value. No, with the materials required, they had to be.
The fact that he possessed one meant—
'He's rich.'
After all, even Korton had given Galahad mana stones and gold coins.
So it went without saying for the Black Magic Society.
Most importantly, they were running the mana stone mines.
The North lacked many things, but its biggest shortage was funding.
They were ignorant fools who disregarded magic and didn't know the value of mana stones, but the mines were the North's greatest asset.
If they could just operate and distribute from the mines in earnest, the North's finances would improve by several levels.
The Black Magic Society members were excellent laborers who would build the foundation of the North's wealth.
'And they're even doing it for free.'
Galahad licked his lips and touched the communication orb.
"The way to use it is—"
"Ah, I know."
Helkarton narrowed his eyes at Galahad's response.
Communication orbs were not only expensive but also notoriously difficult to use, so few people owned them. Furthermore, the operating method differed for each one.
How could he possibly know how to use it?
Just then, the communication orb in Galahad's hand vibrated softly. The vibrations even had a distinct rhythm.
Even Helkarton found the device difficult to operate.
Yet this man was using it with such ease.
'He really is from Dawn.'
His credibility rose a little higher.
****
In the dim cavern, the so-called Grand Assembly Hall, the Director sat in silence.
His mind was as tangled as the wrinkles around his nose.
It was due to the string of recent failures.
'Those foolish bastards—.'
How could they fail to handle such a simple task? Curses came to him naturally.
In any case, there wasn't a single one of them he liked.
Not a single useful man among them.
But there was an even bigger problem.
'Telling me to lie low for a while.'
It was an order that had come down from Dawn.
'......How dare they!'
The wrinkles on the old man's face deepened.
The Black Magic Society had once thrived in the capital.
For those nobodies, who he didn't even know existed back then, to be giving him orders now—
'It's all because of that damned group!!'
The old man coughed violently, so hard that blood appeared at the corner of his mouth.
Everything had crumbled because of those who had relentlessly tormented the Black Magic Society, forcing him to leave his glorious days behind and flee to the wasteland of the North.
Still, it seemed the heavens had not forsaken him, as he had discovered mana stone mines in the North and began to regain momentum.
That was when the man from the place called Dawn appeared.
The old man was the founder of the Black Magic Society.
He revered ascension and would stop at nothing to become stronger.
As such, the old man was confident in his own strength.
Until he met the man from Dawn.
[Is this all you've got?]
The man was a monster.
No.
He was a demon.
The difference in their power was overwhelming, something the old man had never experienced before.
Dawn's one-sided commands were so humiliating they made him cough up blood, but—
'I have no choice.'
The old man's already heavy head felt even heavier.
Just then, the closest of the communication orbs in front of him began to glow.
It was Helkarton, the most useful of his aides.
The one he had sent to the beast tamer's magic circle.
In the North, where beasts roamed like predators, the beast tamer's magic circle was of great value.
He didn't want to give it up, but...
'I'll have to call him back.'
In an already bad situation, he couldn't afford to disobey Dawn's orders.
Just then, the orb vibrated with a series of taps. The mage sitting next to it translated the vibrations.
"Hiccup!!"
The man who had been interpreting let out a violent hiccup. His face, which had been transcribing the message, was deathly pale. As if terrified.
It was a rare reaction, and the old man's brow furrowed.
"What is it?"
"Th-that is... I'm sure I wrote it down correctly, but..."
The old man narrowed his eyes and struck the ground with his staff.
Bloody tears streamed down the stammering man's face. He collapsed without a single scream.
Another man, who had been a short distance away, sat down in his place, trembling. After looking at the paper with the message, the man froze.
"Bring it here."
When the old man clicked his tongue, the man flinched and respectfully handed over the paper.
'What could it possibly say...'
Muttering, the old man read the paper and froze solid.
The contents were far beyond anything he could have imagined.
[This is Helkarton. The old, sick Director is no longer needed. As of today, I, the new blood, am the Director. To prove it, I will retake the Sanctuary.]
The old man read the paper several times.
'What is this...'
Just then, the communication orb vibrated again.
As if sending it once wasn't enough, he was sending it again.
The old man waved his hand.
The orb flew lightly toward him.
The old man carefully analyzed the orb's vibrations.
A moment later—
The communication orb shattered.
It was an expensive item, but the old man was in no state to feel sorry for it.
The new message was even worse than the last.
"That bastard must want to die."
It wasn't just a matter of anger.
If he caused trouble here, it would be a violation of Dawn's orders, making it a matter of survival.
For the first time in a long while, the old man stood up.
Everyone looked up at him with surprised eyes.
"We're going to the Sanctuary."
The old man readjusted his grip on his staff.
Embedded in his staff was not a mana stone, but a large, dark red egg.
***
'.....?'
The crow tilted its head.
The crow considered his own comprehension to be superior to others.
He was particularly adept at assessing situations.
It was why the crow had survived Galahad's hand when the branch members had died.
The crow was a quick reader of situations and a fast decision-maker.
He was sure of it, but—
'......Why?'
Right now, he couldn't make sense of the situation at all.
Galahad was observing the 7th Battalion alongside the Black Magic Society. They were even fully prepared, as if about to launch an immediate assault.
'?'
The crow tilted its head to the other side.
Galahad had definitely protected the 7th Battalion. Hadn't he actually built up his own faction within it?
He was sure of it, and yet—
Now, Galahad was siding with the Black Magic Society, preparing to attack the 7th Battalion.
And not just that—
"They're just newly appointed company commanders. The others are not worth looking at. The only problem is the commander of the 7th Battalion."
He was doing so with utmost sincerity.
Even pointing out their forces.
'......Why?'
The crow tilted its head again.
"Dammit! Hold still! You're driving me crazy!"
Just then, Korton shouted irritably.
The crow's brow furrowed at the petulant voice.
The crow despised fools.
He also despised the greedy.
Korton was a greedy fool.
It was only natural that the crow despised Korton.
He wanted to drive an ice pick into the man's face right this instant, but the crow desperately held back.
He wasn't foolish enough to ruin things over a mere emotion.
"But hey."
Korton casually tried to start a conversation. When the crow ignored him, Korton raised his voice.
"I! Said! Hey!"
For a moment, he was so angry that an incantation rose to his lips.
Forcing it down, he turned his head to see Korton's face, tense with anxiety.
The hand gripping his staff was trembling.
"What."
Korton glanced around furtively.
Then he asked cautiously.
"Is Galahad really from Dawn?"
"Aargh!"
The crow couldn't hold back and smacked Korton on the head.
Not using magic was the last of the crow's patience.
"Aaargh!"
****
Turning his head at Korton's scream, Galahad clicked his tongue.
Palho and Korton were tangled up, throwing punches at each other.
'They get along surprisingly well.'
Then again, the two of them had their similarities.
Both were blinded by greed.
'Then again, that's a trait of mages.'
Galahad chuckled and surveyed the scene.
The members of the Black Magic Society were each making their own preparations. Some were chanting spells, others were adjusting their grips on their staves. Their faces were filled with grim determination.
Beyond them, far in the distance, he could see the 7th Battalion.
They hadn't fully erased the traces of the previous attack, so the place looked shabby, with holes here and there.
It looked precarious at a glance, but he was in there.
To draw out the Director, they needed to act with sincerity.
Of course, that didn't mean he could afford to lose his precious miners.
They would need some well-acted conflict and vigilance.
That would require discussing a detailed plan, but...
Galahad hadn't bothered to send a letter to explain.
Because far away, atop the fortress wall, First was smiling brightly at him.
'He's having the time of his life.'
Galahad clicked his tongue softly.
Just then, a familiar white hawk flew over. Its feathers gleamed as if oiled, its eyes were deep, and it was handsome enough to draw praise, even for a hawk.
'Adrianna?'
The hawk landed gracefully on Galahad's shoulder.
Galahad stroked the bird as it rubbed its head against him and untied the letter from its leg.
[This is Adrianna, Commander of the 1st Battalion. There have been no issues with the 1st Battalion. I am curious about the progress of the Miasmic Realm Training Center, which was entrusted to Special Task Force Commander Galahad. Of course, the Miasmic Realm Training Center was entrusted to Special Task Force Commander Galahad by the Grand Duke. As the Commander of the 1st Battalion, I have no authority to interfere. This is not a matter of distrust, but a letter sent in case you might require assistance. Adrianna, Commander of the 1st Battalion.]
Even in writing, her words were concise. Yet they conveyed an elegance that truly suited Adrianna.
"Ah, could you give me some paper and a pen?"
"Yes!"
Galahad borrowed a pen from a passing black mage.
The black mage handed him the paper and pen, his eyes shining.
"Isn't this red?"
"That's because it's blood..."
"Don't you have any ink?"
At Galahad's questioning, the black mages bustled about.
Soon, he was able to receive some normal ink.
Galahad dipped the pen deep into the ink and scribbled on the paper.
[I am protecting the 7th Battalion splendidly, so don't you worry. You and my father-in-law both know how capable I am. It's a day that makes me miss your warm hands. - Your dependable fiancé. P.S. Your handwriting is quite cute.]
Without pausing his pen once, Galahad finished the letter and tied it to the hawk's leg.
The hawk flew over the black mages and disappeared.
"Alright, everyone, get ready! Tonight, the Sanctuary becomes ours!"
At Galahad's shout, the black mages responded with a mighty roar.
Galahad smiled in satisfaction.