Chapter 121
Chapter 121
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 121
Chapter Title: The Archmage Awakens
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A young man, sitting cross-legged at the center enveloped by a four-sided magic barrier, collapsed while vomiting blood in agony.
At the same moment, with a soft whoosh, the door-sealing barrier that had isolated him from all the surrounding noises and attention dispersed.
This place, where the chill of early winter seeped through the windows despite midsummer in the world, was the northern territory of the Holy Human Empire.
‘Bell Quirius, huh...’
Did he decipher the possession spell created by this Archmage Jernix with those eyes? In that short time?
‘Impossible unless his level is equal to mine or higher.’
No, absolutely not higher.
No matter what anyone says, there’s no mage in this era who can rival Archmage Jernix.
Ever since the death of the 12th Archmage Obek—the last who could be called a successor Archmage—the Empire’s Archmage seat had remained vacant.
‘The kid named Lin had so much potential like me. I wanted to let him grow more before taking his body instead of killing him back then... Sigh, this one’ll die before he grows up too.’
He’d attacked the Commander-in-Chief in the white wolves’ lair, so status be damned—he’d be sentenced to beheading under barrier law.
Those eyes I’d coveted since Ryuken Ludwig developed them... I wanted the whole body, but oh well...
Wiping the blood from his mouth, Jernix stood, removed the ragged eyepatch he always wore—depicting seven eyes inside a triangle—and stretched refreshingly.
“Whew, mission complete. No more need to puppet those stinky old men’s bodies!”
He’d sown maximum discord among the beastkin and wolves until one of Spider Lord’s five commanders awakened, so his work here was done.
“Shall I watch how the young lord massacres the beastkin?”
Nah. After centuries in the north, he was sick of this place. Except for that brief trip south to unseal Lizard Lord...
Next mission was down south near the pole?
On the way, he’d grab some good food, fool around with some girls. Republic girls were the best—love that bronzed skin.
Wasn’t that why he’d revived for eternal youth, to enjoy this?
“Heh, maybe I’ll go dote on Tureina in person for once.”
* * *
“Execution! Behead him immediately and kick that head beyond the barrier for his beastkin pals to see!”
While the deputy commander, who’d served 38 years at the barrier, ranted furiously, Kiran Wolf Blado checked the basket firmly strapped to the fallen Rain’s back.
Wait... this is...?
He swallowed hard, snapped the lid shut. Glancing cautiously around, he seemed to be the only witness.
“If that’s really a Ludwig fakeout, how do you plan to handle the fallout later?”
As Kiran slyly picked up the basket with a warning, the deputy commander furrowed his brow.
“This is the barrier—wolf law trumps imperial law here, as you well know. And we saw what he did! Tried to assassinate the Commander-in-Chief!”
“...Didn’t you hear it?”
“Hear what?”
So he hadn’t...
Before the Commander-in-Chief collapsed, Kiran had clearly heard that eerie voice drifting through the air.
But would these fired-up folks believe him now? Everyone was on edge after the expedition’s total failure.
“Either way, plenty of troops saw Page’s lady here. Beheading’s too hasty.”
“Wolves don’t kowtow to imperial nobles.”
“Not about kowtowing. Just proceed calmly. Lock him in a cell for now. I’ll interrogate once he comes to.”
* * *
At the Ludwig family’s Bellewin estate, the time-honored farewell rite proceeded quietly.
House head Kevn Ludwig had refused visitors, so the other houses and ten knightly clans, along with the Eight Great and Sixteen Mid-Academies, sent formal condolences and donations by letter.
Did they not know, or come despite knowing?
From Sias Tulica’s Girten region, domain folk had climbed up, following the procession and weeping bitterly.
“......”
The waves of grief swirling around the estate pierced not just family hearts, but butlers, maids, and soldiers too.
The boy had never been cruel to anyone, showed no favoritism, was merciful to all, treating high and low alike as friends.
A hundred days ago, the young master’s empty bier led the long procession up the summer ridge blooming with tulips.
No body to bury, only a few mementos, so the bier was heartbreakingly light.
Former and current heads Skalji and Kevn walked left and right of it in full mourning garb, followed by the boy’s mother Brim, aunt Elin, sister Seri, and young brother Bran in mourning clothes.
Finally, the trumpeter at the front blew a long note, and amid the mournful wail, the procession halted.
Here, where weathered tombstones stretched to the horizon, family members took eternal rest.
A place overlooking the tulip fields in spring verdure and winter snows, and Bellewin estate in one glance—the final sanctuary.
As soldiers waiting by the open grave reverently took the bier to lower it, Brim Ludwig finally burst into sobs, clutching it.
“Ma’am...”
“Oh, ma’am...”
The sorrow of sending a son where she couldn’t follow was long and heavy. Seri hugged her mother, weeping together.
Only young Bran Ludwig, innocent to this world of grief, tilted his head innocently.
Only after a while could they pry Brim and Seri from the bier and lower it. The elderly officiant opened the holy book.
“The gods say parting in this world is not eternal... Thus, no cause for sorrow, only joy...”
It’s said Emitsa Page spoke thus to her descendants on closing her eyes:
“Though I die now, the gods will surely watch over you, guide your ends to the land of eternal life.”
“......”
“As Karenden promised me, we shall meet there again. Strive unashamed for that day, run life’s race. Spread light, do good... Durshiel.”
“““Durshiel (may it be so).”””
Skalji nodded, and family guards began filling the grave with shovels, but their tear-streaked motions were slow.
“He would’ve become a truly great lord.”
Unable to watch soil cover his son’s bier, Kevn had stepped back to hear the Girten folk’s wails. Guardian knight Swan offered hard-won comfort.
“Young as he was, every guard believed in and followed the young master wholeheartedly... Me too.”
Kevn’s faint smile was heartbreakingly fragile, on the verge of shattering.
“Yes, thank you.”
Passing Swan to return to the ridge, Kevn placed a hand on the young knight’s shoulder.
“See they get good food. So they don’t tire on the way back. They came to mourn my son—treat them generously.”
“As you command, my lord.”
Elin Ludwig didn’t cry.
Instead, midway as soil covered the grave, she forcibly hauled up endlessly weeping Seri and dragged her down the ridge.
As Seri resisted, Elin gripped her shoulder hard, as if to snap her out of it.
“Don’t cry, don’t cry! Ludwig heirs don’t shed tears before others! Your grandfather, Madelia Page, your father—none cried at funerals?!”
“......?”
“Rain Ludwig is dead now. Know what that means? You’re the legitimate heir. Seri Ludwig, you must lead our house!”
On the ridge where wind rustled petals, Seri tried swallowing tears, but they kept coming, her voice breaking thin.
“I don’t want to... I don’t wanna be heir... I just... I miss big brother... big brother...”
“Rain’s gone, I said!”
Her shout seemed sharp, but kneeling to meet her niece’s eyes, Elin’s voice faded ethereally into the air.
“You gonna show him this pathetic sight when you meet again? Become cooler, so even his pathetic side’s happy...”
Replaying those words, Seri nodded painfully, bursting into tears. Elin hugged her niece, stroking her back.
“No one left to bear the family weight for you now... Steel yourself. Be as strong as your pathetic brother...”
* * *
Hearing and touch pulled his submerged consciousness to the surface from deep darkness.
Someone sobbing, warm droplets falling on his face...
Laboriously lifting his eyelids, the first sight was pale violet eyes. Clear, endlessly welling and dripping with dew—bewitchingly so.
“...Miss?”
Why was Casena Page crying?
Trying to rise his heavy body, a dizzying storm of memories struck his hazy mind like lightning.
Beastkin and wolves, splitting headache, Griffion and Barlzen, Commander-in-Chief and possession spell, Alakish, and...
“Dragon egg.”
Most crucial: the treasure Alakish trusted him with.
Breathing raggedly, he tried bolting up—but clank, heavy iron yanked his wrists roughly.
His eyes widened in shock.
“...Handcuffs?”
Yes, handcuffs.
These lumps, cast in clenched-fist shape, were mage-specific cuffs preventing spellcasting.
Bargante type can’t cast without hand seals.
Yorhen type can’t activate without the magic circle on their palm.
Remidier type can’t even start without a book...
This dim cell’s only light was a faint lantern beyond the iron bars, filled with cold dust and mold stench.
“Prison, huh...”
The desperation of his situation was unbelievable; he staggered weakly, slumping blankly against the outer wall.
No time for this.
Alakish was still fighting— even if she shook him, if that guy went to Rabenfel...
“Sorry, so sorry...”
Casena hugged her knees pitifully, sobbing thinly over and over.
“It’s my fault...”
“You did nothing wrong, miss. All my impatience.”
He should’ve been more cautious.
Thinking removing the possession spirit from the Commander-in-Chief would solve everything... Too shortsighted.
Sighing painfully, Casena suddenly jerked up her red-rimmed eyes and shouted.
“No... I knew everything! From before! Way before!”
“Huh?”
“I... I held you back again... Holy See too, this time—because of me, you couldn’t help Alakish...!”
“......”
“So I studied so hard, so next time, I wouldn’t drag you down—I wanted to be strength, your strength, but, but...”
For a moment, words failed her.
He’d thought she forgot since she hadn’t spoken, but she remembered it all. No wonder she studied so fervently...
Was that noble resolve what enabled it?
“So that’s how you felt.”
If it were Rista, she’d approach, pat that shoulder with gentle comfort. Fride would quote famous scripture for encouragement.
Sadly, he couldn’t act like them. Not his personality, nor did he know how.
But he knew better than anyone the mindset needed here—from watching, feeling, experiencing firsthand.
“I see it differently, though.”
Convey sincerity, pure sincerity.
Without a shred of pretense, if they gave pure heart, respond in kind.
“Without you, we wouldn’t have made it this far.”
“What?”
“You convinced Clan Durankus completely. Without you in Rabenfel, we couldn’t even talk to Griffion.”
Not forced comfort, but genuine feeling from this journey.
Did it reach her? Casena, staring wide-eyed, haughtily turned away, biting her lip.
“...Liar.”
“True. I’m more honest than I seem—if you were a burden, I’d have said so.”
“Then what’s the point... Alakish, Alakish might die because of me...”
“No, Lady Alakish is still alive.”
Not him, but a youth entering with heavy bootsteps scraping the floor.
Stopping before the cell, he made Rain and Casena spring up for different reasons.
Rain eyed the dragon egg basket the crimson-haired youth held reverently in both hands; Casena’s gaze fixed on his face.
“Ten years, Casena.”