The Dark History of the Claudy Family
It was the dark history of the Claudy family. A string of unbelievable tales. But if acknowledged as fact...
'It all makes sense.'
It could explain every event unfolding across the Arcana Continent. No need to look far. He'd witnessed it himself, hadn't he? The legendary dragons gliding boldly across the sky in flocks.
The Sunrise Warrior spoke.
"...It's undoubtedly the truth, isn't it?"
A cold reply came back.
"An insult. Do I look like the sort who would sully that name with lies, warrior of the east? There's a limit to tolerating ignorance, you know."
"That wasn't my intent. Merely..."
Silence hung over the salon.
'The calm before the storm, perhaps.'
The warrior glanced around. He'd never seen the salon so utterly empty. Even he had lingered here for quite some time, driven by curiosity about Claudy. And finally, he'd encountered the transcendent being before him.
'No wonder.'
If the past surrounding Claudy was all true, it explained why the transcendents were so frantically on the move.
But at the same time, a question arose.
"...May I ask one final thing?"
"Curiouser than you appear. Very well, speak."
"Why did such a great house vanish without a trace?"
The transcendent murmured softly.
"Truly, a question only profound ignorance could produce."
Then, in a grave tone, it continued.
"Even I cannot answer that. I lack both the qualification and the courage to speak of that day. But I can offer you one piece of advice."
Advice out of the blue.
"Forget the doubt you just voiced. Right here, right now."
"...Forget it? Why?"
"That curiosity could shorten your lifespan."
Just having doubts could shorten one's life? Wasn't that a curse disguised as advice?
The warrior bristled momentarily. But then, a chilling remark followed.
"You surely thought it a curse, didn't you?"
"...!"
Indeed, a transcendent. Piercing straight to his heart. He couldn't let his guard down for even an instant.
But the Sunrise Warrior was mistaken. The transcendent genuinely pitied his ignorance. Thus, it added,
"If the east knows the concept of curses, no further explanation is needed. To fear curses means you grasp their peril. That's precisely why you must let it go."
The warrior swallowed dryly. How could he not know of curses? Curses, or black magic. They were utterly alien powers.
'A horrific experience.'
The Sunrise Warrior himself had once fallen victim, losing his voice for days.
Thanks to that, he understood the transcendent's next words without issue.
"A debt to Claudy too vast to fathom, one they've utterly succumbed to."
"...?"
"Merely glimpsing it subjects one to a curse beyond endurance. The darkest history no one in Arcana dares unearth."
Yes. That was why every powerhouse on the continent had begun rampaging. Because Claudy had returned to Arcana.
And if Claudy themselves unearthed that dark history...
"No one would dare lift their head before them."
"...!!!"
*
Seven Deadly Sins, Gluttony. The name had long lost its meaning. Now, including himself, only five remained.
Greed, cast into hell, was one thing. But Envy's whereabouts were utterly mysterious. Not content with wandering one-armed, it had now vanished entirely from the continent.
Gluttony ground his teeth.
"Useless, brainless bastard."
"...?"
His murderous mutter drew every eye in the tavern.
In the ravaged Arcana Continent, a tavern still operating spoke for itself. The stench from the rickety tables, the foul cheap booze. Leather tough enough to pass for spiced hide if you squinted. The patrons were no different.
"Ruining the booze, you prick."
"What, did your buddy croak somewhere? Hah!"
"Shut it over there, asshole. Don't kill the vibe."
Blood-crusted swords and armor. Hollow eyes telling tales of their brutal lives. Surviving the forsaken continent meant that much.
Of course, none of it reached Gluttony's ears.
'...Impossible.'
Decades ago. If return were possible, it would have happened long ago. It must be some fool's misunderstanding.
Gluttony racked his brain endlessly. Then, unwittingly, he let out a hollow laugh.
"You expect me to swallow that crap?"
Born of evil, evil incarnate. Naturally, he trusted no one's words.
Yet he obsessed over it for a simple reason. He'd dismissed similar nonsense before—and gotten smacked in the back of the head.
Akshan's revival. A rumor he'd scoffed at. But when he heard Akshan's last survivor had hurled Gamigin into hell, Gluttony realized: absolutes didn't exist in this world.
Gluttony muttered,
"...If they returned, who exactly?"
Then—
BAM! The table flipped.
"Crazy fuck, you deaf?!"
"?"
"Get out, asshole! Booze went flat the second you walked in. Muttering bullshit nonstop. Demon-possessed or what?!"
Shattered dishes. Gluttony eyed the spilled food on the floor. Poor excuse for a meal, but his nonetheless.
He shifted his gaze to the man.
"And if it's not the booze?"
"What the fuck, you psycho."
"I'm asking what you'd do if I were a demon."
"...!!!"
Instinct.
"Demon bastard after all!"
Men who'd danced the line between life and death countless times. They knew his words weren't a joke.
The man snarled, dagger to Gluttony's throat.
"Explains the flat booze. You cursed prick."
Soon, a mob surrounded him. Over twenty, easy.
Gluttony didn't flinch. He just murmured,
"Hate filling up on trash like this."
And it was over.
Crunch—grind—crack— Breaking, shattering, chewing sounds.
"Ugh..."
The tavern keeper huddled, trembling.
No chance to intervene. In an instant, the men were sucked into Gluttony's palm.
Grind— Horrific noises filled the tavern.
A call from a patron. Gluttony.
"Keeper."
"...!"
"Sorry, but a glass of water, please."
No strength to resist anyway. The man suppressed his fear and handed over the water.
Gluttony said casually,
"Sorry for the mess."
"...No problem."
"Already on edge, and you pick a fight."
"My apologies. I'll stay quiet."
"Oh? Thanks."
Fights were commonplace here. Normally, he'd clean up the wreckage, collect repair fees. But now, he couldn't move.
A demon sat before him. One that had devoured twenty grown men.
"Rumor true or not, need a real solution."
Gluttony ignored the keeper's terror. Even after swallowing twenty humans, his mind brimmed with thoughts of Claudy.
The tavern fell silent. Only the keeper's pounding heart echoed.
Perhaps because of it, a decent idea surfaced.
"Just check myself."
Good. Time to bait the hook. Something Claudy couldn't ignore.
Perfect bait: arrogant demons.
Demon kings. Mongrels born in the Demon Realm, daring to claim kingship of evil. Excluding the original Ten Thrones like Gamigin, they were all vermin.
Ah, with Gamigin in hell, true demon kings numbered nine now.
"This could make a fine dinner show, if played right?"
No hesitation. Dragons, elves, transcendents—all had heard of Claudy.
He had to move before they did.
"Bill."
"...It's fine."
"Really okay?"
"I won't take it."
"Alright?"
As if rummaging a pocket, Gluttony probed his gaping palm.
Not even gold or jewels from there would be accepted.
Soon, Gluttony rose and turned.
'...Goddess.'
Thanks for watching over me from this nameless demon.
As the man sought a god he didn't believe in—
Gluttony approached.
"By the way."
"?!"
"Not great at booze, but quit the food biz."
He eyed the floor's mess and grinned.
"Thank the guy in my gut. If I'd tasted that slop first, you'd have been dessert. Penalty for worse-than-human chow."
Sinister smile. The man's legs buckled.
"Haha, kidding. Kidding. Take care, keeper."
Only after Gluttony left did he realize. No divine protection. He'd survived on a demon's whim.
*
No rest for the weary. I returned to my office right after the roundtable.
Nothing for me to do there anyway. Before it started, the Tower Master had stepped up, apologizing for past nuisances.
'...Separate issue, but annoyingly smug.'
As known, the roundtable had changed. Rank-blind or not, the Mage Tower's head couldn't be absent.
Yet showing up as a cat? Unbelievable.
'Brazen as Grandfell.'
Apprentices and adepts couldn't spot the disguise. But Tower Master—you're in on it? Human pretending cat? Purring on belly rubs?
'Lucky bastard.'
Some of us just hunted and brooded in the Zero Mountains.
So carefree, even recovering. Twisted my guts.
Small comfort: next week's regular conference?
I vowed. I'd put that Tower Master to work properly!
Perfect pretext. Fits Grandfell's pride. Noblesse oblige, after all.
Duty comes with position. Bear it, our Tower Master.
Click.
Of course, I suffered too. Piles of expedition requests on the desk, as always.
Right, set down the teacup. Stamp reject on Bensy's form.
Before work... my eyes drifted instinctively to the parchment.
Unfamiliar script. Nosy me had reviewed every Mage Tower expedition request.
Unfamiliar meant from the sender.
'Tower Master.'
Bold stamp confirmed it.
'What the.'
Cat paw seal. Yes, definitely from the Tower Master.
'Why a paw print?'
Could sign normally. Random paw stamp?
Dismissed at first. But reading it... yeah, needed the seal.
Still...
What the heeeeell? Me as Tower Master? No, where do you think you're slinking off to, you schemer!!