Chapter 153
Chapter 153
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 153
Chapter Title: Road to the Frozen Hell (4)
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***
Why was a human of Palace Lord rank wandering around the sewers?
And with a fake face on, no less.
Yeomyeong narrowed his eyes at the approaching East Palace Lord.
“One gold coin per corpse. How about it?”
He was wearing a different face from the tavern owner disguise last time—shaggy robes and an old staff that screamed back-alley mage.
If not for that familiar voice, even Yeomyeong wouldn’t have recognized him. The disguise was that perfect.
“Hmm… Thirty gold coins not enough?”
The Palace Lord had closed the distance before he knew it.
Yeomyeong still didn’t know how to modulate his voice, so he kept silent. The East Palace Lord might pick up on his identity from it too.
He stepped back without a word, clearing a path for the man.
“…Quite the quiet fellow.”
Fortunately, the East Palace Lord couldn’t pierce the illusion covering Yeomyeong’s face.
It helped that the Bloodtear Illusion was so intricate—and that his gaze was fixed on the dead Shepherds.
The moment Yeomyeong stepped aside, the Palace Lord scurried over to the corpses like a cat spotting prey.
“Oh ho… Necromancy and black magic at once…”
He poked and prodded the Shepherds’ bodies in admiration for a moment.
Yeomyeong watched, arms crossed, tapping his toe on the ground: tap, tap.
A blatant signal. The Palace Lord flashed a friendly smile and tossed over a leather pouch.
“Sorry about that. Gets forgetful in my old age.”
Yeomyeong snatched the pouch and peered inside. It brimmed with genuine Imperial gold coins, stamped with the Emperor’s face.
“Thirty gold coins. Keep any change. These bodies are plenty for me.”
The East Palace Lord turned back to the corpses after saying that.
Once his gaze shifted, Yeomyeong signaled Neti, hidden under the cloak of invisibility.
Just as the two were about to head off down the sewer—
“The sword work left on these bodies is no joke.”
The East Palace Lord’s voice snagged Yeomyeong’s ankle. He kept rummaging through the corpses as he continued.
“Not many in this city wield a blade like this… You an outsider who came after hearing the rumors?”
“…”
Yeomyeong didn’t answer. Taking the silence as a yes, the Palace Lord kept talking.
“Well, origin doesn’t matter—skill does. How about trying mercenary work?”
Mercenary? Yeomyeong frowned, recalling the East Palace Lord’s plea to borrow his strength to quell the city’s chaos.
Was this another request for help containing the unrest?
But what came from the East Palace Lord’s mouth was far from his guess.
“Not hard at all. Just… kill one elf for me. What do you say? I’ll pay handsomely.”
The words had barely left his mouth when Yeomyeong felt Neti jolt in surprise and swiftly covered her mouth.
A brief silence.
Before the East Palace Lord could turn, Yeomyeong grabbed Neti and headed down the sewer.
Luckily, he didn’t try to stop them. Instead, he called after their retreating backs, sounding regretful.
“I run a potion shop called Ulyanov in the east district. Come find me if you change your mind.”
***
“That old man and the elves—weren’t they allies?”
Neti’s first words after emerging from the sewers. Yeomyeong shook the filth from his shoe insoles as he replied.
“…Allies stabbing each other in the back isn’t strange. Especially in a city like this.”
“Real commie of you.”
They headed to the inn, chatting like that.
Maybe because so many had flooded the sewers, the city felt far emptier than usual.
Confirming no one around, Neti suddenly asked,
“…Brother-in-law, so what’s sis doing? Why’d you come alone?”
Yeomyeong answered casually.
“Seti looked beat, so I put her to bed and came solo. Finding you was easy enough on my own.”
“Oh… Yeah, she’s been catching catnaps all week guarding you in your trance…”
Didn’t you do anything while putting sis to bed? The question rose to her lips, but Neti swallowed it.
Something told her they probably did.
‘…Gotta ask sis.’
Instead—though it wasn’t much of a substitute—she explained her sister’s plan from the past week.
From bribing drunks to spread rumors of a Soviet secret vault, to why she’d been in the sewers—everything.
The explanation dragged on, especially with Yeomyeong’s midway questions.
How long had they walked?
By the time the week’s rundown ended, they’d reached the fortified inn.
Armed men—Yosef’s subordinates—guarded the windows and rooftop watchpost, scanning the surroundings.
Neti shed the invisibility cloak and asked,
“Brother-in-law, what’s next? Sis said prep’s done.”
Yeomyeong didn’t answer right away.
He eyed Ballagu scarfing spam at the inn entrance, then pulled the Bloodtear Key from his pocket.
“Time to flip the board as planned.”
***
Dreytelial had more mages than expected.
Not proper ones, of course.
Dropouts like Dagall, whose bloodlines were too diluted for the mainstream.
Lunatics experimenting on humans or dabbling in forbidden magic.
Criminals who’d fled here to dodge bounties.
These abnormal mages were practically a pillar of the city.
They hid in every corner, so even the Palace Lords left them be rather than hunt them down.
…Anyway.
The ‘Bendhu’ they were now seeking, guided by Ballagu, was one such mage.
Dreytelial’s top appraiser, whose name had rung bells since Ballagu’s escape days.
His pawnshop’s size alone proved it.
A massive concrete warehouse that could fit a hundred easy.
Yeomyeong glanced up at the sign reading [Universal Pawnshop] and said to Ballagu,
“…A pawnshop run by an appraiser. We’re in the right place.”
“Probably the city’s hottest. Bendhu’s skills are recognized even by Palace Lords.”
Ballagu knocked hard on the door. It cracked open, revealing a thug-faced man.
“What’ll it be? Loan? Sale?”
“Appraisal.”
“Appraisal? That’ll cost ya… Got the coin?”
Yeomyeong answered, shaking a coin pouch heavy with gold.
Jingle, jingle. The door creaked wide with the sound.
“…Come in.”
The pawnshop interior was messier than expected. Shelves overflowed with junk; swords and clothes littered the floor.
The man stepped over it all and said,
“Bendhu’s downstairs.”
Yeomyeong and Ballagu crossed the warehouse, descended stairs, and entered a small basement.
A fat bald old man sat in a chair, mana wafting off him—clearly Bendhu.
“Bendhu, customers here for an appraisal.”
The door guy introduced them curtly. The bald man sized Yeomyeong and Ballagu up and down.
“Here for appraisal? Been a while. So, what’s the item?”
“Arcane relic.”
“…What?”
The salesman smile froze on Bendhu’s face.
“Look, kid. Picked something up in the sewers, huh? Tough luck—it’s junk. Arcane relics aren’t that easy to find.”
Not his first such customer? Bendhu waved him off.
Instead of arguing, Yeomyeong drew the Bloodtear Key from his pocket and held it out.
“Told ya, junk. Don’t waste coin on—”
Bendhu’s words cut off.
His expression twisted oddly as he stared at the key. Next instant, he snatched it from Yeomyeong’s hand.
“This key… mana’s pulsing. Magic tool?”
He donned a monocle and examined the Bloodtear Key.
A short silence filled the basement.
As the guide glanced nervously, Bendhu spoke.
“This… is a real arcane relic. First live one I’ve seen.”
“…”
“Let’s see… Materials: vampire bone and ash… Human blood dye… Soviet era make, yeah. Where’d you get it?”
“Sewers.”
“Oh… So the rumors weren’t total bullshit?”
Bendhu stared at the key, then abruptly proposed to Yeomyeong.
“Sell me this relic. Good price.”
“No.”
“One thousand gold… No, fifteen hundred.”
“Again—no sale. Already used it.”
“…”
Bendhu’s face soured at that. But he inspected it again, eyes widening.
“Reusable arcane relic…? Damn, two thousand gold!”
“…”
“Three thousand! Seventeen hundred cash now, rest after I liquid some stock. Deal?”
Yeomyeong rested a hand on his sword hilt instead.
Action worth a hundred words. Bendhu’s face twisted.
“…Got greedy. Sorry.”
He glanced between key and Yeomyeong, sighed as mana flared from him.
“Appraisal fee: five gold. Certificate: ten more.”
Ballagu bristled at the price.
“Fifteen gold? Five times market rate?”
“It’s an arcane relic, not trash. Cheap at that.”
“That’s ridic—”
Yeomyeong stopped Ballagu, pulling gold from the pouch.
“Fifteen gold. Check it. How long for the cert?”
“Three… No, ten minutes. Wait outside.”
That ended it. Bendhu summoned a lackey with orders; Yeomyeong pocketed the key and left.
Ten minutes later, the door guy handed over a rolled parchment.
“See ya.”
They ignored the mocking farewell and stepped out.
Street urchins trailed them from the shop, but neither paid mind.
Or pretended not to.
Soon, Ballagu—walking a bit behind—spoke.
“…We’ve got tails. More than one or two.”
Tension laced his voice, but Yeomyeong stayed calm.
“I know.”
Ballagu realized the superhuman had spotted them ages ago.
“…You expected this?”
“Asked for a useful appraiser. Not an honest one.”
Ballagu muttered awkwardly.
“Fair…”
“Don’t blame yourself. Planned for this from the start.”
“…”
Next instant, Yeomyeong whipped out his sword. Two arrows aimed at them sliced in half.
?!
Ballagu gaped in shock as more arrows rained.
Too many to block with sword alone. Yeomyeong grabbed Ballagu’s belt and leaped back.
Thud thud thud!
Dozens of arrows stabbed where they’d stood. Landing with Yeomyeong, Ballagu stared dumbly at the source.
The door thug, Bendhu, mystery gangsters.
Dozens down the alley, crossbows trained on them. Greed burned in their eyes like mana.
—That’s him!
They advanced, bows leveled. Some split to flank through side alleys—for encirclement.
Yeomyeong watched a beat, weaving a telekinesis spell, then asked Ballagu,
“How’s this rumor? Arcane relic from the sewers… and the gang of famous mages who went after the guy who used it—wiped out.”
“…”
That was the play? Ballagu laughed in disbelief, then again realizing Yeomyeong could pull it off.
“Hot enough to light the city up. Plenty witnesses… Everyone’ll talk it for weeks.”
Pleased, Yeomyeong smirked and finished the spell.
The gangsters aimed and fired.
Duds and snaps as dozens of arrows flew—
Then froze midair, caught in telekinesis.
“…A mage?”
Bendhu muttered from the front.
Yeomyeong spun the arrows around and sent them back.
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