Chapter 170
Chapter 170
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 170
Chapter Title: Parting at Bellakior Temple
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Miria was waiting for me at the colonnade of Bellakior Temple, leaning against a half-broken pillar while stroking Aki's head.
I descended the temple steps around the time the smoke rising from the old altar began to fade and dusk settled over the world.
The moment I appeared, Aki came toddling straight over and clung to my right leg.
“Aba’s hewe—!”
It was touching.
She used to crawl everywhere before, but when had she grown this much...?
- Master.
- Master.
- Mages don’t cry. Right?
Suddenly recalling his former disciple’s dazzling growth, the young man suppressed his sorrow with a smile and scooped Aki up into his arms.
“You can walk now. All grown up.”
No, but why had she actually gotten bigger?
She used to be like a two- or three-year-old, but now she looked about five or six. The unfamiliar weight made me tilt my head for a moment as I held her.
Did true dragons grow in stages like this?
“Aki can—wawk now—!”
“Great that you can talk, but why do you sound like Pipi?”
“Aki diffewent fwom—Pipi, wight?”
The owner of that bizarre speech pattern, Pipi, was perched silently on my shoulder.
Even now, she was just staring off at the distant sky, watching the smoke carrying Tureina’s soul skyward.
Burying my face in Aki’s soft hair with a bitter sigh, the cozy, fiery scent unique to red dragons soothed my churning heart a little.
“Sorry. I was too late, wasn’t I?”
“Not—wate!”
“Really?”
Was it just a casual remark, or did she mean it from the heart?
I couldn’t read Aki’s thoughts, but her words melted away one of the knots that had been choking my soul.
It felt just like a disciple I could never see again saying those words to me.
“No, I was late. I won’t be late again.”
Aki rubbed her head against me, purring happily. After a long moment, I lifted my face and looked at Miria.
“We really have to part ways now, huh.”
“Yeah, well. I’m busier than I thought.”
“Goblin hunting?”
“What? Got a problem with that?”
“No, just... But why are you covered in bruises everywhere?”
Miria let out a sigh, her face saying she had no idea herself.
“No clue. That FakeWarrior guy, Milone or whatever, kept insisting on sparring with wooden swords...”
“Did you win?”
“Does it look like I won to you? I barely landed a hit—got pummeled the whole time.”
A perfectly predictable outcome.
A FakeWarrior was humanity’s strongest soldier. Was there anyone who could match that power in close combat?
I could guess why Milone had challenged her.
“Sword aura.”
But had what Miria used really been sword aura? Compared to what Rista wielded three hundred years ago, it was far too feeble to call it that...
“Wasn’t it because you blasted him with sword aura back then?”
“Sword aura? Me? Don’t make me laugh. I didn’t even get proper Mana Chain training. I still don’t know how I projected sword energy that time... but it definitely wasn’t sword aura.”
Her tone suggested even she couldn’t say for sure. I wondered if she’d explain how it happened, but Miria quickly changed the subject.
“Only after knocking me down three times did he mutter, ‘Was it a mistake?’ and let me go.”
Recalling it made her temples throb, so Miria pressed them hard.
Still, having sparred with a FakeWarrior seemed like a fresh experience—her expression wasn’t too dark.
My gaze shifted to Miria’s shoulder, darkening slightly.
A half-broken single-edged sword hung there, its blade wrapped in bandages.
“What? Oh, this?”
Noticing the emotion in my look, Miria shook her head dismissively.
“It’s fine. It was a sword you said I took from a goblin shaman... It had some serious magic on it and was pretty useful, but it protected me and Aki this time, so it’s served its purpose.”
“Took it from?”
“I didn’t take it—my dad gave it to me. My adoptive dad.”
She claimed it was fine, but the way she bitterly twirled the sword in her hands made a sigh inevitable.
“My name is Rain Ludwig.”
“And?”
“Heir to the Ludwig family. Take this and come to our estate.”
What I handed Miria was a ring.
A ring proving enrollment at the magic university <Delaiten>, with “1388 - Rain Ludwig” intricately engraved inside the gem.
“If you explain what happened, my parents will reward you generously. More than enough for a masterfully crafted fine sword.”
Miria glanced at the ring and widened her eyes in disbelief.
“This thing pisses people off from start to finish. Hey, when did I say I wanted money?”
“...?”
“I did it to save Aki. Seeing her smile like that is reward enough.”
With that, she strode over and gently stroked Aki’s head.
Aki nuzzled into her hand, and a defenseless smile crossed Miria’s lips. The moment she noticed my gaze, she wiped it away and stepped back.
Clearing her throat—perhaps to steady her voice—she winked and said,
“If you insist on repaying me that badly, I won’t say no. Treat me to a meal.”
“A meal?”
“There’s an amazing spot in <Aurelinopl>. And <Aristafo> has great stuff too—you have to go now. Aki would love it.”
A chuckle escaped me.
This girl wasn’t craving food for herself—she wanted to watch Aki eat.
As I was about to tease her about it, another voice cut into our conversation.
“I’ll take that meal too.”
In the twilight shadows of the ruins emerged a man with deep blue hair. His name was Balensidis.
He still hadn’t fully recovered, his movements a bit unsteady, but his punchable face was as punchable as ever.
“No matter how slippery you are, even you wouldn’t have the gall to refuse repayment to the one who helped you escape certain death and then risked his life on Tureina’s soul-fusion ritual.”
Now, just looking at this guy made me burst into absurd laughter, no matter his past.
And I felt like I needed to keep an eye on him.
I sensed I could glimpse another path for my abyss-fallen disciple through this disciple’s disciple.
Even as I thought that, I shook my head with a deliberate sigh and tongue-click.
“Nah, no way. Not you.”
“Nooo—!”
Balensidis twitched his eyebrows playfully after receiving double negation from me and Aki.
“Hmm, why? Give me a convincing reason, Rain Ludwig. If you want some cozy time with that goblin girl, I’ll gladly step aside.”
“Hey, who’re you calling a goblin girl?”
“That the reason? My life goal is to never spend a single coin on you.”
“Such a noble life goal. Did your family teach you to repay favors with grudges?”
“They drilled that into us in the student council I was half-forced into.”
“Student council... You mean the place with your most admired mage?”
“You little—come here. You’re not coming? Hey!”
“Ilwo—come!”
Miria watched the two men spin around her like kids, pressing her temples amid a headache and sighing.
“What are you two even doing...? We’re going to eat, and suddenly you’re playing tag and falling over.”
* * *
[Progress report on the mission.]
Only the sound of underground sewage echoed through the chillingly dark cavern.
An ancient fortress buried since the Age of Genesis, most structures eroded and slumped by sewage—but the mad terror it once commanded remained intact.
Even famed adventurers crossing the “Flowing Desert” shunned exploring this underground citadel, once a key frontier outpost of the Holsbez Kingdom in the Abyss Era.
“Uh, well, there’s some news you might not take too kindly.”
Now stripped of its glory, a ghost town... Yet atop the citadel’s battlements sat a young man in lotus position.
An eyepatch with seven pupils drawn in bizarre patterns inside a triangle—the eyes blinked intermittently like living things.
When he wore it, this youth, Zernix, didn’t become blind.
He became a transcendent being, perceiving every detail within five hundred meters as if viewing his own palm.
“Tureina seems to be dead.”
Today, Zernix spoke in his usual casual tone, like saying it might rain today or fog tomorrow.
Normally he’d yawn and scratch his back, but at this regular meeting, he didn’t dare.
Even Zernix, who flirted with any beautiful woman, tensed under the deathly aura.
The spirit of that existence sat casually on the ramparts—the one who had revived the Black Church’s second pillar, Zernix, and third pillar, Elamas, with abyssal power.
[Ruza Ihen had endless utility, yet you killed her too soon. What made Tureina rush so?]
The Black Church’s first pillar...
“That I don’t know. I heard Elamas met Tureina recently—maybe she egged her on?”
Zernix pointed, and the girl’s spirit, who had been flitting lightly around the battlements, stomped in outrage.
[What are you saying? I only visited once when I caught the hatchling! This is your fault, Brother Zernix.]
Elamas’s voice floated in disbelief, but her eyes and tone rang with truth.
Hmph, so she knew everything.
Leaking info on Tureina to lure the dragon’s guardian to <Aurelinopl>, then passing it straight to Tureina so they’d meet.
“I know nothing. You and Tureina schemed first—I just helped.”
[Oh come on~ You wanted her so bad. Kept getting rejected, so you got mad and set this up, right?]
Zernix bellowed.
“What the hell, man? I, Zernix, am the man of men every woman begs for one more kiss! Why would someone like me ruin the grand plan over one three-hundred-year-old woman?”
Deep down, he regretted it immensely.
No matter how vast the world, women as flawless in face, figure, and voice as Tureina were rare...
But forcing himself wasn’t Zernix’s style, and Tureina had been devoted solely to Lin, the archmage he’d killed three hundred years ago.
[I’m a woman too, but I have zero desire to kiss you, Brother Zernix.]
“Yeah~ You’re not my type, kiddo.”
[What did you say?]
The first pillar’s voice turned icily cold then.
[As I said before, play your games—I don’t care. But if it hinders the grand plan, even you two won’t be forgiven.]
Her will rang clear; the sword, a weapon yet distinctly formed as a spirit, resonated with its master.
The killing intent it exuded was so vicious that Zernix and Elamas instantly shut up mid-banter.
That sword was Yoniu Lan, one of the true holy swords from the Age of Gods—said to have beheaded countless ancient nobles and even kings’ necks.
True holy swords: the real ones wielded by the five Ascenquerors, prototypes for the twelve supreme holy swords FakeWarriors used today—legendary weapons.
[Anyway, we can consider our influence on the Akrad Continent effectively lost.]
Her tone dripped dissatisfaction.
Shar’kas and Nariaduk had been wild cards who underperformed and exited early.
“Yeah, yeah, the Water Dragon and Papal Court will think so too. No Light Dragon left.”
The Black Church took an unexpected hit too, but nothing compared to the dragonkin’s losses.
The dragons lost their Light Dragon in the black sun incident (even Tureina couldn’t pull that off alone—all three pillars intervened), then the eldest daughter of the northern red true dragons.
Human nations’ power waned slowly but surely.
This decline would lay bare when the dragonkin era fully ended.
“Our main stage is Adrion Continent anyway. Let them get complacent.”
Pleased with the implication, the first pillar nodded.
[I’ll cross the wall soon. If that dragon guardian comes to Adrion then, I’ll handle him.]
[Whoa, really? When? Will you come meet this Elamas too?]
Elamas, whose love and loyalty for the first pillar were unmatched, covered her mouth in genuine excitement...
“To Adrion Continent? That guy? How do you know?”
Zernix feigned skepticism.
Of course, he knew.
If he hadn’t planned to hide in the Papal Court, he’d have grabbed a family member hostage to force him over.
‘But a single FakeWarrior guarded the Bellwin estate, making it impossible...’
His sister at [Rainbow Garden] was protected by another Bell Quirius awakener—no chance there.
‘Possessed an Imperial officer who went to Trident Point and learned the destination, but only I knew...’
As if seeing through his schemes, the first pillar eyed him meaningfully.
‘Damn, this throws my plans completely off.’
Zernix furrowed his brow inwardly, clicking his tongue.
To achieve my goal—to escape this monster’s grasp in the end—I needed that guy’s body.
I’d been watering and fertilizing the fruit until it ripened fully...
But with his current power, unaware of Bell Quirius’s ‘true strength,’ meeting this monster meant certain death.
‘She’d shred him beyond recognition. That’s what Yoniu Lan is. Then I can’t take the body.’
I wanted to act before they met, but I couldn’t move my main body until this job ended.
Abandon it, and Yoniu Lan would kill me first.
Maybe rig the board to delay when the kid crosses continents?
‘Or no need to overthink?’
I’d stationed ‘those wastrels’ at the Tershy Archipelago, the continents’ link.
The adventurer party “Slayers,” infamous five hundred years ago across both continents, subjugated by FakeWarriors.
Zernix finally crossed his arms in satisfaction, smirking inwardly.
‘Heh, hehehehehe, my wisdom is perfectly, too perfectly flawless.’