Chapter 37
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 37
Chapter Title: Eyes of Truth Tarania (2)
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"Hah, but! As you know, Baron Blanc, our territory's main source of income has been the iron ore from the mines! They've already been shut down for months, so if we drag this out any longer..."
Bang!
Blanc slammed his fist down hard on the table beside the bed.
"Are you saying we should cover up this wicked band of darkness for the sake of petty gains?! Baron Tigor!"
Tigor felt things going south the moment he saw the fire blazing in Blanc's eyes.
It wasn't just the soldiers flexing their muscle on him that was the problem.
The real issue was the boy standing right in front of him. Blanc Cardmus.
Blanc had every justification on his side.
He was the knight leading the Tolome soldiers encamped in the territory, the first discoverer and conqueror of the dungeon, and a knight of Aselheit—the sworn foe of black mages.
Tigor had no choice but to go along with whatever Blanc wanted.
"If things turn out like this, I'll have no choice but to seriously question the relationship between you and the black mage, Baron!"
"No! That's not it, Baron Blanc! I'm truly innocent!"
Baron Tigor Baum would soon have to head to the capital, Baltimer, to explain himself in this mess.
It wasn't just a summons from the king. If it had been, he could've scraped together some excuses to buy time.
But in this case, not only King Frederic of Felix but even the cardinals of the Goddess Church were demanding his presence.
This wasn't some minor internal territory affair. A black mage was involved—one tied to the massive catastrophe from two hundred years ago.
What if, while he was in the capital pleading his innocence before the king and cardinals, Blanc showed up and pointed the finger at Baron Baum?
The words of Aselheit's sixth knight and the dungeon's conqueror would carry immense weight.
'I'm done for!'
If that happened, Baron Tigor Baum would face irreversible ruin. It might not stop at him—his entire Baum family could suffer a fatal blow from which they might never recover.
No, it would happen.
"Baron Blanc! Help me! I, Tigor Baum, swear on the name of the Goddess that I know nothing about this incident!"
Baron Tigor collapsed to the floor in a heap, begging Blanc for mercy.
Blanc watched him for a moment before rising from the bed and grasping the man's pale hand, pulling him up.
"Of course, I fully understand your concerns about the territory's finances, Lord Tigor. After all, I have a family to rebuild myself."
As soon as he finished speaking, Blanc turned his gaze mournfully out the window once more.
Tigor caught on.
Or rather, his survival instincts kicked in sharp as ever, letting him read exactly what Blanc wanted.
"I—I can help you! Baron Blanc, the rightful heir to Norinton! You need to spread your wings again!"
Blanc inwardly chuckled at Tigor's quick thinking.
"Your words alone are enough to earn my gratitude, Baron Tigor. But I'm preparing for a grueling battle against no fewer than three families..."
"We'll cooperate fully! You must need funds to raise an army, right?!"
'Jackpot.'
The Cardmus family's purse strings—no, their first reliable ally—had just been secured.
Blanc stayed another week in Baum territory, recovering from his injuries.
'At least 500 gold secured for now?'
Tigor Baum was a wealthy man. If he'd been some destitute noble scraping by day-to-day, fretting over his family's survival, he never would've cozied up to the Tolomes to break into central politics.
The Baum territory wasn't just rich in iron ore mines; it hugged a river, which was how it got its name: Highriver.
Iron ore from the mines, herb cultivation in the mountains, logistics via the river. It wasn't vast, but the fertile farmland could easily sustain a territory, plus the mint candies that would soon draw attention.
Yet in his previous life, the Baums had gone bankrupt over this very incident. The stigma of black magic and the Goddess Church's wrath had been that devastating.
Tigor might see it differently, but Blanc had essentially saved the Baum family.
Which meant Blanc felt zero guilt as he stripped them bare.
Poor Tigor had no choice but to hand it over, bitter pill and all.
The handshake between Blanc and Baron Tigor held the Baum family's weakness clutched tight.
The moment Tigor let go, that weakness would shatter on the ground.
And everyone knew where those shards would fly.
Even a rich baron like Tigor couldn't cough up 500 gold—equivalent to a full year's revenue—all at once.
Instead, Blanc now carried a certificate granting him the rights to sell a certain amount of iron ore.
Weard Tolome would easily pay at least 500 gold for that.
Plus, there were items from the black mage's dungeon.
Many were old or battle-damaged, but some would tempt the Goddess Church and mages alike.
Blanc couldn't take everything, but the Tolomes would surely cut him a generous share in the profits.
'The Steel Bank it is.'
He'd gathered the 500 gold needed to open an account.
All that remained was a guarantor.
Aselheit, who'd granted him his knighthood, should qualify.
No guarantees, but Blanc figured he'd lean on him anyway.
It wouldn't tarnish his honor or cost him a dime, so why not?
The only hitch: Aselheit's whereabouts were always a mystery.
Finding him to ask might take time.
"You're heading to Baltimer with us?"
"Yes. More precisely, to the Tolome family estate."
Tarania rode beside Blanc, leading her soldiers on their way back.
Blanc couldn't help thinking her platinum hair, tied up high, looked just like a horse's tail.
But he kept that to himself.
"Are you coming all the way to the Tolome estate... because of Stefan?"
Edwin, riding on Blanc's other side like Tarania, shot her a worried look and asked.
Stefan Tolome hadn't woken once since being rescued from the mines.
To use her Eyes of Truth and peer into his soul, Tarania needed eye contact—which she hadn't gotten yet.
In other words, she still hadn't ruled out suspicions of black magic.
"That was the plan until yesterday, but a messenger bird arrived from the Torch Knight Order."
Tarania pulled a letter from her bosom and waved it.
"For me?"
"Take a look."
The letter was from the seneschal of the Torch Knight Order.
The order had been founded by Aselheit himself, but true to his moniker "Wandering Duke," he roamed the world endlessly.
In practice, Knight Commander Ronbrando ran the show.
And the sender, Gaspar, was Ronbrando's right-hand man, handling all administrative duties.
Essentially, the order's number two had written it personally. Edwin's eyes went wide as he stared at Tarania.
Blanc, unperturbed, read on.
"So, you're saying you'll stick by my side for a while and teach me how to counter black magic?"
"That's right, my lord."
The Torch Knight Order had been horrified to learn Blanc—their newest knight, appointed after twenty years—had nearly died after just a few months.
Aselheit's knights were special to them. They weren't just symbols; they were the order's staunchest patrons.
Duke Wesler Valtazar of Anton Kingdom—Aselheit's fifth knight—provided massive financial support, for instance.
Blanc was just a fallen baron now, but the order saw great potential in him.
Who knew? He might grow as big as Duke Valtazar one day.
So even the worldly-detached Torch Knights couldn't just leave their fledgling alone.
They'd assigned Tarania—one of their own—to Blanc's side under the guise of black magic training.
To guard him, help him grow, and prepare him against dark arts until he stood tall.
In short, Knight Tarania was the Torch Knight Order's first official support for Blanc.
"Will you take my orders? Like a subordinate?"
"No. The Torch Knights don't meddle in worldly affairs. I'll simply protect you from black magic and other abominations, and teach you how to fight them."
"How long will you stay by my side?"
Blanc met Tarania's uncovered left eye—a vivid green—and spoke.
"I'll decide that."
Blanc nodded at her reply.
'No harm in accepting.'
The Torch Knights avoided worldly matters, but for a man with nothing like Blanc, more backers the better.
And after getting thrashed by black magic, learning to counter it was smart.
"Very well. Looking forward to working with you, Lady Tarania."
Blanc offered his hand, welcoming her aboard.
But he didn't notice the gem beneath Tarania's eyepatch glowing blue.
Eyes are mirrors to the soul.
Tarania was a knight with exceptional talent for spotting demons lurking within via those mirrors.
Through her Eyes of Truth, she'd examined Blanc's soul and confirmed no traces of the black mage.
But instead, she'd sensed something else.
Something vast and dark, dwarfing black magic.
Yet it was fainter than a shadow, misty and indefinable.
What Tarania had detected was emptiness.
Or more precisely, the illusion of emptiness.
Blanc's soul was resilient. Rather than succumb or shatter, it had twisted under the strain.
And lodged within that wounded soul like a trauma was the phantom of emptiness.
Tarania had sensed it.
Had she known of the new calamity called "the Void," she might've roughly guessed what it was.
But the Void remained a top secret, known only to Aselheit and a handful of top brass.
Uncertain what she'd found, Tarania decided to stick closer to Blanc a while longer.