Chapter 125
Chapter 125
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 125
Chapter Title: The Former Alliance Leader (1)
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The epitome of righteousness, the Tutton Archduchess.
The greatest troublemaker of the current era, Derek Minster.
Posters featuring their faces were displayed all throughout Norton, the largest city in the North.
"I wonder who'll win."
"No matter how impressive Derek Minster is, how could he possibly withstand the Tutton family's overwhelming axe?"
"Still, didn't Derek just crush that famous Steelman in one go? You never know."
"Steelman was just an up-and-coming talent, while the Tutton Archduchess has been renowned since childhood. Experience is everything."
The city buzzed with talk of the man and woman set to clash in the upcoming match.
Inns across the North were packed to capacity with spectators who'd flocked in to watch.
However, not everyone was thrilled by this boom.
As Derek Minster's star rose day by day, one man's expression grew increasingly icy.
"Prime Minister Aints, he's here."
Aints, Prince Ivan's closest confidant.
He gazed coldly down at the rowdy streets from his third-floor office.
"Show him in."
The elderly man, hands clasped behind his back, slowly stepped away from the window.
He then greeted the newcomers entering the office.
With a profoundly solemn look.
"Welcome, Sword Sage. It must have been a long journey."
Pale bare feet lightly touched the jet-black floorboards.
No shoes, yet not a speck of dust clung to her flawless skin.
White martial robes wrapped her jade-like legs and alluring thighs.
Her pale purple hair cascading over them was strikingly beautiful.
"……."
Pale purple locks and stark white eyes.
Her enigmatic gaze fixed steadily on the old man.
'What's this? Why is she staring at me like that?'
The Prime Minister swallowed hard upon first meeting the former head of the Eastern Continent Alliance in person.
'I figured the former Alliance Leader would be an old codger like me, but she's the complete opposite. Is this what they mean by shedding one's mortal form...?'
Aints had engaged in numerous exchanges with the Eastern Continent before.
The realization that transcending life, aging, sickness, and death was truly possible left him deeply tense.
"She says the title 'Sword Sage' is uncomfortable to hear. Just call her 'Zajeop,' she requests."
Her attendant, dressed in similar martial robes, spoke in the imperial tongue.
It seemed they had their own telepathic way of communicating among themselves.
"Understood. Please, have a seat here. Let's talk over some tea."
Aints courteously treated the woman who looked young enough to be his granddaughter.
The escort knights watching could hardly hide their complicated expressions.
Sword Sage Zajeop.
The former leader of the Eastern Continent Alliance, now a hidden master in retirement.
Their ultimate weapon, called upon only when the Alliance faced insurmountable threats.
Even Aints, who held his head high before all but the Emperor and Prince, broke into a cold sweat in her presence.
As if confronting a being who had transcended human limits.
"So, she's asking if you can't hand her over because of the man protecting Myoran."
The bun-haired girl in martial robes seated beside her translated.
Aints replied calmly, tea cup in hand.
"That's correct. My deepest apologies."
"She says it's fine. She had thought the Empire was coveting the Heavenly Jade's power and pretending not to catch her on purpose."
The pale purple-haired woman offered a faint smile.
As if agreeing with her disciple's translation.
"Since there were valid circumstances, her side feels relieved."
The Prime Minister nodded slowly and sipped his tea.
With the Sword Sage right before him, it tasted refreshingly crisp, like drinking in a lush forest.
Her very presence emanated an otherworldly aura.
But he soon froze, tea cup midway to his lips.
"She says she has no desire to become enemies with the Empire over this matter."
A subtle thorn laced her words.
As if any friction with the Empire wouldn't faze them in the slightest.
The Empire held no fear for her.
"……."
Aints's pride smarted, but he let it slide.
Interfering personally in international diplomacy would only give the Princess's faction ammunition.
He wasn't so senile as to let emotions poison the Prince's interests.
"Then where is this man protecting Myoran now?"
The bun-haired girl raised a hand to ask.
"If even you, the Prime Minister, can't touch him, he must be royalty or somesuch."
"No, actually... he's the Warden of Berryhill Prison on the frontier."
The translating girl faltered for a moment.
She tilted her head, then whispered calmly to the Sword Sage.
"So in Eastern Continent terms, all this fuss is over some backwater prison warden?"
The woman who had transcended mortality let out a light laugh.
Not mocking or scornful.
She simply seemed delighted to witness such a curious turn of events amid life's tedium.
"Yes... but he's no ordinary warden. He's the Princess's closest ally, backed by her directly."
"She says she's heard of the Princess. The Empire's finest spear wielder, they say."
The supreme powerhouse clapped her hands.
For the first time, she showed genuine interest.
"Indeed. So you could say the Princess herself is protecting Myoran."
Only then did Zajeop nod in full understanding.
She carefully smoothed the folds of her robe over her voluptuous curves and slowly rose.
"My master understands now. She wishes to handle this personally from here on."
Prime Minister Aints stood as well.
He straightened his collar out of habit, maintaining decorum.
"Prince Ivan has consented, but please refrain from open displays of force."
The bun-haired girl glanced up at the Sword Sage.
She gently patted her disciple's shoulder and finally spoke herself.
"It's fine. I came personally for a quiet resolution."
Her voice rang clear as jade beads tumbling.
She had gleaned enough imperial tongue from their conversation.
―――, ―――.
The former ruler of the East departed Aints's office.
Walking side by side with her disciple, she spoke.
"Third."
"Yes, Master."
Her footsteps made no sound whatsoever.
The Sword Sage paused, taking in Norton's glittering sights.
"Convey my will to First and Second."
"Of course."
The pale purple-haired woman handed over an address clutched in one hand.
It detailed the Warden and Vice Warden's information down to the last detail.
All provided by Prime Minister Aints.
"Before striking the head, I want to test his vessel first."
The former Alliance Leader narrowed her eyes to slits.
"Start with his closest subordinate, the Vice Warden. Imprison her limbs to blind and deafen him."
She exuded a chilling yet ethereal menace.
"Then I'll step in personally to deal with Myoran and this Warden at once."
"Your disciples could handle it all. No need for you to go to such trouble, Master."
The Sword Sage replied to her worried disciple with a kind smile.
"Myoran's vessel is terribly small. Like a tiny saucer for soy sauce."
She gazed intently at the passersby who stared at her in awe.
Just a glance seemed to reveal their levels and realms.
"Yet it imprisons a dragon far too vast. One that might shatter free at any moment."
"……."
"What happens if the dragon thrashes to escape and breaks the vessel?"
"Shards fly everywhere?"
Her violet butterfly eyes curved like a crescent moon.
"Exactly. This Empire would become a frozen hellscape. That's why I came myself—to prevent it."
She harbored no malice, no greed for the Heavenly Jade's power.
Utterly detached, as one who had long transcended such desires.
"I just hope that child doesn't resist too fiercely."
The Sword Sage quietly admired the vibrant city.
"I wouldn't want to destroy such a beautiful place."
Memories of the great war between good and evil over the Heavenly Jade surfaced in the former Alliance Leader's mind.
She recalled the demonic cult officer who had fled with the Heavenly Jade and the Heavenly Demon's daughter amid the chaos.
The one who founded a sect with the divine relic's power, posed as its leader, and raised the cult leader's child.
The dim outskirts of Berryhill as dusk fell.
The city streets echoed endlessly with the footsteps of workers heading home.
A bit further in lay the melancholy night district.
From there, silence reigned, loneliness lingering in the air.
"Quiet area's nice, senior brother."
"Yeah. Handle it quick and get back to Master."
Two men in black donned masks.
Disciples of the Sword Sage—unregistered with the Alliance, yet each ranked among the top ten masters of the martial world.
They halted abruptly before a shabby house.
"Intel says the Vice Warden's martial prowess is nothing special. Lives simply with her two younger twin sisters."
"No parents or other helpers?"
The eldest disciple meticulously checked before the ambush.
The second shared his thorough intel.
"The Warden drops by to watch the sisters sometimes, but he hasn't clocked out yet."
The Warden's shift ended in thirty minutes.
They'd kidnap and restrain the Vice Warden before then, severing her link to the Princess.
Then their master, the Sword Sage, would finish him.
"Alright, let's go in."
The two stealthily approached the front door.
One clutched binding ropes.
"...Door's unlocked."
"Enter slow. She might've sensed us—watch for traps."
The pitch-black clad disciples slipped inside.
But the hallway stood empty.
Only the savory aroma of braised ribs wafted from the kitchen.
"In the kitchen."
"Straight in. Subdue before she notices with magic."
They channeled inner energy into their legs.
Using peerless lightness skill that silenced even leaps, they burst into the kitchen.
―――, ―――!!
But.
The scene awaiting them was utterly unforeseen.
The kitchen table, which they'd expected to hold only the young twin sisters...
Was crowded with completely unexpected guests.
"…………?"
Grand Elder Dark, here for braised ribs.
The Empire's Tax Agency Chief, his closest subordinate.
"What? It's not Warden Derek?"
"Indeed. Thieves by the look of them?"
The Imperial Knight Commander, indebted to Dark.
And Greta, Capital Defense Knight Commander and gourmet, tagging along.
"If thieves, we'll handle it."
"Hold on, let me set down these ribs first."
Figures rivaling Prime Minister Aints in stature were devouring the braised ribs with gusto.
"Warden, I told you not to sneak out early no matter how hungry—"
Clea emerged from the kitchen in her apron, sensing the presence.
She tilted her head at the masked strangers.
"What're these soot lumps?"
"…………………."
The masked men stood dumbfounded for a moment, then exchanged glances.
They signaled with their eyes and promptly removed their masks.
"We, uh, no speaky Empire good."
"Smelled home cooking, came see."