Chapter 24
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 24
Chapter Title: The Original Has Returned
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That night, in the banquet hall of Winterguard Fortress.
Calling it a banquet was a stretch—there were no fancy dishes. Just smoked meat pieced together from emergency rations, watery beer, and rock-hard bread. But the atmosphere was festive enough.
The soldiers who'd thought they were goners were drunk on the relief of survival. The beastmen had backed off. And the supplies I'd squeezed out of the capital would arrive soon, giving this barren fortress a glimmer of hope for tomorrow.
"Hoo..."
In a dim corner table, Erendel spooned her soup with a face etched in exhaustion. Her hand still trembled faintly from the aftereffects of that Meteor spell she'd unleashed earlier in the day.
'Definitely... not what she used to be.'
I grimaced bitterly. Back in her prime, she could've fired off two or three Meteors in a row and still danced circles around the enemy. But five hundred years didn't spare even an elf.
I picked the tenderest cut from my portion of meat and placed it on her plate.
"Eat up. Gotta fuel up so you can roll with me again tomorrow."
"Shut it. No appetite."
"No appetite, huh? You're scarfing it down fine."
"...This is just survival fuel."
Erendel grumbled but chewed the meat I'd given her with gusto. Her cheeks puffed out like a hamster's—pretty damn cute.
"By the way... you sure this is okay?"
Killian approached our table cautiously, still sneaking glances at Erendel. The White Witch sharing a meal with them seemed equal parts fascinating and terrifying.
"What?"
"Those beastmen. They're cowed for now, tails tucked... but what if they get cocky once their bellies are full? They're beasts, after all. Wild instincts don't fade easy."
Killian's concern was valid. Fear burned hot, but it faded fast. I chuckled and tipped my beer mug.
"Don't worry. I've got them on a very tight leash."
"Leash?"
"The moment they think about betraying us, their hearts swell up like balloons and pop. Cute little black magic trick I planted."
"...Gasp."
Killian paled, clutching his face.
"That's monstrous...! Just the thought of betrayal kills them? You are..."
"Kidding."
"...What?"
"No such spell exists. Can't read minds. I just scared 'em good. Stuck a mana clump in their chief and called it a bomb—they swore loyalty on the spot."
"..."
"Scammer."
Erendel piped up quietly from her soup.
"Plus, they've got 'Winter' as a disaster behind them and the Empire feeding them up front. Better to wag their tails for the hand that feeds than starve or freeze. Rational choice."
"Haha. If you say so, then it is. You... you're truly impossible to pin down."
Killian shook his head, at a loss for words.
"This is the best way. No drop of our blood spilled, and now the northern bulwark's twice as thick. Beastmen shields? Solid as it gets."
"True, methods aside—you saved us. This debt? I'd give my right arm to repay it."
"Keep your arm. Just manage things right."
I nodded toward the window.
"That 'Winter' out there. Erendel's barrier will hold it off for now, but it'll come down eventually. Barriers aren't infinite."
"Understood."
"By then, whip those beastmen into shape and build a proper defense line. Make 'em useful as a shield at least."
As Killian bowed and retreated, Erendel set down her spoon and stared at me intently.
"What? Soup on my face?"
"Nah. Just... reminded me of the old days."
She smirked.
"Old days?"
"You always pulled bonkers stunts like that. First thing, 'Let's purify the World Tree,' and off you go hunting an axe."
"Saved it, didn't I? Chopped the rotten roots, and it perked right up."
"Normal people heal World Trees with axes? Come on."
"Praise or insult? Pick one."
"Half and half. Rotten temper, no scruples on methods. Nice to know you haven't changed, you scammer."
She shoved a hunk of bread into my mouth before I could reply, cheeks flushing a bit.
"Mmph...!"
The rough bread crumbled, warm comfort spreading in my mouth.
I chewed, chuckling.
Yeah. This is why I keep rolling.
Rumble rumble.
After days of grueling travel, the carriage finally halted.
"My lord, we've arrived."
I unwrapped the blindfold at the coachman's voice. Peering out the window, the capital sprawled before us—gaudy yet faded, like the Empire itself.
"Hmm."
Erendel, gazing out beside me, let out an odd hum.
"How's the capital look after all this time?"
"Smaller."
Her assessment was curt.
"Walls are shorter, mana density's trash. Whole city's like a dying old man, drained of life. Perfect snapshot of the Empire now. Worse than my era."
Classic sharp tongue. But her eyes held more bitterness than scorn. How must it feel to see the land you bled for rotting away?
"Let's head in. Gotta say hi to the homeowner first."
The palace's main gate stood open. Thanks to the messenger I'd sent ahead, Emperor Friedrich and Princess Elicia waited personally to greet us.
Though the Emperor looked more like a steer headed to slaughter than a joyful host.
"You've arrived?"
He glanced at the red demon sword at my waist, sweating bullets. Guess the trauma of me stabbing it into his dinner table lingered.
"Arrived? How's the north... guk?!"
Thwack—!
The Emperor flew backward in a splendid crash, tumbling ass-over-teakettle.
"Guhak...!"
I stepped down from the carriage, grabbed his collar, and hauled him up.
"C-cough! K-Kasian, Duke...?"
"What the fuck did you do to let the provinces rot like that?!"
I shouted right in the Emperor's face.
"Commoners starving, and the lords throw banquets in broad daylight? What the hell have you been doing holed up in here?"
"Th-that's... We... The nobles' reports said bumper crops...!"
"Reports? You trusted scraps of paper? Never thought to check with your own eyes?"
I slammed him to the ground.
"If you weren't my friend's descendant, it'd be the guillotine for you. From today, Elicia handles some duties too. You read that book I gave you?"
"Y-yes! Of course."
A cool voice drifted from the open carriage door.
"Causing a scene the second you arrive. Ease up on the veins."
Erendel descended in her white robe.
"This is...?"
The Emperor asked in a quavering voice.
"Introduce yourself. Grand Mage Erendel. From the history books? The elf who took down the Demon King with me."
"Grand Mage...? No way!"
The Emperor's eyes bulged. A legend from dusty tomes stood before him—small wonder.
"Alexander's descendant?"
Erendel eyed him sideways, staff planted firmly.
"You look wrecked. Your ancestor Alexander was handsome, full of grace. Genes must've flushed down some sewer. Looks as dumb as the last few Emperors."
"Kh-khem...!"
Personal attack right out the gate. True to form.
"And you."
Her gaze shifted to Princess Elicia.
"You're the fool who summoned Kasian?"
"Y-yes! I'm Elicia von Reinhardt! It's an honor to meet the Empire's heroic Grand Mage...!"
Elicia fumbled her dress skirts into a curtsy.
"Quiet. Honor? You lot wrecked the nation, and honor is what comes out? Have some shame if you've got a conscience."
Erendel clicked her tongue.
"Mana affinity's decent, but zero utilization. Wearing jewels does squat if you can't refine it. Brain too pure, or just poorly taught?"
Elicia's face turned beet red as she bowed her head.
"O-okay. Greetings end here."
I clapped to lighten the mood.
"Business first. North's sorted clean."
"Sorted? Heard a beastmen horde was coming... How'd you handle that many?"
"Had a real peaceful chat with the beastmen. Moved 'em to tears—they left all buddy-buddy."
"That's a threat, not negotiation."
Erendel jabbed from the side.
"Dropping meteors from the sky to hell-send the vanguard, raising their corpses to ask 'live or die?' Since when's that peaceful, you scammer?"
"Ahem!"
I cleared my throat awkwardly. Emperor and Elicia's eyes went wide.
"Meteors? Corpses?"
"Peaceful result means peaceful process. Don't sweat details."
I brushed it off and nailed the Emperor.
"Anyway, north's quiet for now. Got the northern duke and beastmen cooperating. Border stays calm."
'Mention Winter too...?'
I hesitated. That nameless calamity descending from the far north—even Erendel couldn't parse it.
But I held my tongue. Empire was already on death's door. Add a Demon King-tier disaster from above? Emperor foams at the mouth, nobles pack bags southbound—inner war round two.
'Too soon. Keep it secret till we find a fix.'
I locked eyes with Erendel discreetly. She nodded lightly, getting it.
"So, what's next on your agenda?"
Elicia asked carefully. Northern fire doused—now fix the civil war-torn internals.
"Gotta go."
Short answer.
"Where to?"
"Magic Tower."
Erendel's eyes sparkled.
"Magic Tower? My disciple?"
"Your disciple's in her final year at the Academy, right? Probably there."
"Yeah. Suffering under idiot professors."
"That's why Tower first. Wrong order."
I pointed at the Empire map.
"Look at this mess. Snag your disciple as-is? No lab space, gear, funds. Academy's rotten too—what changes with one kid?"
"..."
"Deep clean first. Overhaul the Tower, reclaim Empire magic HQ. Stock facilities, drain rot, crack skulls of the disobedient."
A smile crept across Erendel's lips. She dug my plan.
"Same ruthless style, past or present."
She looked ready to pulverize the Tower on the spot.
"Let's go. Time to see the faces who turned my sacred Tower into a fireworks rental."
Capital's heart.
A massive spire piercing the heavens. Empire magic's core—or these days, home to its flashiest posers.
"Whoa..."
Arriving at the Magic Tower, I was floored. Not impressed—appalled.
The outer walls were plastered with gaudy gems and glowing magic stones, blinding to behold. Mana efficiency? Tossed for "look how rich I am" tackiness.
"Ha..."
Erendel sighed deeply, rubbing her dry face.
"Don't wanna go in. Embarrassing as hell. Empire's broke, right? Royals penniless? Then why's this place dripping money?"
"Nations crumble, treasury empties—nobles' pockets burst. Same five hundred years ago. Demon King's army at the gates, nobles loading gold into escape carriages. Forgot?"
"Can't we Meteor this and start over? Please, Kasian. That's not fixable—demolish it."
"You built this, right? Your legacy."
"Canceled! No way that's mine!"
I calmed her rampage and headed to the main gate.
Guards in gold-plated ornate armor blocked the way. Tin cans for show.
"Halt! This is the sacred Magic Tower. Outsiders need a pass..."
The guard thrust his spear, scanning my shabby coat and Erendel's robe top to bottom.
"Country bumpkins, huh? Peddlers use the back door. This is for nobles and mages."
"Peddlers?"
Erendel's brow twitched. Sanity snapping audible.
"Hey, tin can. Know who I am? Your Tower Lord's kneel and grovel ain't enough—peddler?"
"How should I? Old frauds claiming 'grand mage' scam everywhere these days."
The guard sneered, waving us off.
"Selling potions? Try elsewhere. No grannies here. Scram—we're busy."
"Granny... old... fraud."
The air around her crackled.
Her berserk button: mashed.
Wordlessly, she thrust her staff at the gate. Flames condensed at the tip.
"Just die."
Kwaaaaaang—!!!!
A massive explosion vaporized the Tower's gaudy main gate without a trace.