16 – Found It 1

The gambling den itself was comparatively large,

But the interior was densely packed with furniture designed to obscure the passage of time, and teeming with people, making it an unsuitable environment for wielding a long mace.

Therefore, I had abandoned my two-handed mace, with its power and reach, and was about to begin the fight with a one-handed hammer,

When Loreine took a step back and said to me,

“Would you like to handle this one yourself, Young Master?”

A proposition that was disqualifying for a bodyguard, but perfectly reasonable from the perspective of a swordplay instructor.

I gave a slight nod, stepping forward.

“Ha… I’ll be damned. Now it’s some pretty boy with a face that…”

Perhaps it was because I wasn’t large, appearing more like a young master raised in a greenhouse.

The one sitting at the very front, far from being wary, didn’t even bother with the most basic defenses, only sneering.

Though I possess a sizable frame, looking at his pristine body, untouched by scars, I realized he had survived by exploiting psychological fear rather than combat, and immediately brought the hammer down.

*Crack.*

The violent sound of impact crashed over them.

Someone with combat experience might have avoided it, but it seemed he lacked that level of skill, his form collapsing quickly.

A moment of silence descended, every gaze snapping to me.

Watching them, I thought of my last day in the north, twisting my lips into a grimace as I walked forward again, flicking the blood from my weapon.

“Get, get that b*stard!”

“Weapons! Where are my weapons!”

“What the hell is going on all of a sudden!”

It seemed they weren’t men who made a living from fighting, overly flustered, tangling their movements in a self-made chaos.

The sight of it, as if they were pushing each other to their deaths, brought a hollow laugh to my lips.

I began dealing with those charging at me from the front, one by one.

“Die!”

Easily dodging the incoming attack, I crushed the opponent’s face with the hammer I held.

The motion flowed smoothly, perhaps appearing light at first glance.

But the results were anything but light.

With the sound of something breaking and blood spraying, those who had been following behind froze, petrified.

Their overly clumsy reaction made me lose interest, and I lashed out with a kick, sending the man in front of me sprawling, then scanned my surroundings.

The sight of them, terrified and unable to blindly rush forward even after one of their own had died, made me feel like I was looking at docile sheep.

As I reminded myself that losing composure for even a moment meant losing all initiative, a great tremor rumbled from within. A hulking man burst through the wooden door, shattering it with his bare hands, letting out a guttural roar.

“Which b*stard did this!”

A muscular man whose face looked like a drawing board covered in scars.

He threw the blood-soaked man he was holding onto the ground, grinding his teeth as he glared around.

Then, seeing me and those around me, he stammered, speaking to me.

“You son of a b*tch…”

Seeming to have a quicker grasp of the situation than appearances suggested, he quickly calmed down, massaging his wrist before kicking a nearby man and saying,

“You pathetic worms! Aren’t you going to get that b*stard now?”

It seemed they had deemed it efficient to drain my strength with trifles before truly targeting me.

Thinking they were being quite clever, I decided to play along, slowly dispatching those who hesitantly charged.

KWA-aaaNG!

Movements forged through countless sparring sessions with Lorraine.

Though I often appeared a fool, grinning stupidly, these were lessons learned from a prodigy: the youngest Superior Sword Expert, who would ascend to Sword Master in the later acts.

Of course, to call this perfect would be an overestimation of my skills, but…

At least, dealing with such clumsy fellows posed no issue.

After felling more than a dozen in one fell swoop, the muscular man’s pupils darted about, rapidly assessing the situation.

Probably because I was stronger than he anticipated.

Watching him, I slowly took a step forward, and a voice rang out.

“W-wait! What do you want? Money? Influence? If it’s an assassination contract, I’ll pay ten times as much!”

His words reminded me of something I had almost forgotten.

Come to think of it, I wasn’t here to beat people up, but to gather information.

Wiping the blood from the hammer onto a nearby tablecloth, I stated my desire.

“I need information.”

“I-information? What kind of information?”

“Everything about black mages and the cult.”

“…”

The moment he heard my words, he must have realized he was in trouble, because he began hurling every piece of furniture he could find at me and immediately fled.

Seeing this, I realized that the man was definitely involved with the black mages or the cult, and I was about to chase after him when…

A powerful gust of wind whistled past, and the fleeing man’s ankle was cleanly severed.

And I mean that literally.

As if the process itself had been skipped.

His ankle was separated with uncanny precision, at a speed far beyond human perception.

‘…She’s a true monster.’

How much time would it take to reach that level?

I couldn’t even begin to fathom it, so I praised Lorraine for her good work, then turned my gaze to the man crawling on the floor.

Unlike before, he now seemed genuinely willing to talk, his posture noticeably more subservient.

I pressed my foot onto his back and spoke.

“Tell me everything you know.”

At that, he let out a pained groan, nodding his head quickly.

*

“I… I only received the letters relaying the information, from somewhere in the middle. I know nothing.”

He claimed ignorance, so I raised the hammer, and new information emerged.

“…Ah, Ah! Now that I think of it, he said he’d bring a new letter tomorrow! It, it apparently contains the next set of instructions!”

It seemed he knew more than he let on, so I gestured, tightening my grip on the hammer, and again, something new spilled out.

“And… Ah, right! Ruston! That order you got from the black mage! Tell him about it!”

Ruston, the man called by that name, went pale at the mention, then shook his head frantically, telling me.

“L, Lord, I didn’t mean to! I was being blackmailed, so I had no choice…”

“Did I ask for your personal affairs?”

“…I received an order from the black mage! To become close to you, Lord, and then to make you befriend those the black mage provided!”

“Why?”

“I don’t know that… Maybe he was trying to get something through you, Lord?”

They were nothing more than pawns, easily discarded, so they wouldn’t hold crucial information.

Still, it allowed things I had only suspected – for instance, that the black mage might be targeting the Carsaril family – to solidify into conviction.

I considered it a worthwhile outcome.

‘If I can manage to steal that letter tomorrow as well…’

I felt I might be able to strike at the core of the problem, instead of just chasing after the tail. I nodded.

*

And then, the next evening, Lorraine and I hid in a nearby building.

As soon as we confirmed a man, suspicious-looking to anyone, leaving a letter, we apprehended him and dragged him into the gambling den.

“Let, let go of me!”

He struggled to escape us.

But after a few instances of physical persuasion, he became as still and silent as a corpse, limp.

“H, he looks really dead.”

I ignored Ruston, who was trembling in fear before me, and looked at the stolen letter.

A plain white letter, unremarkable.

According to the giant who had fallen, that letter contained the information with the next set of instructions…

‘Whether the instructions are written here, or a self-introduction, or just useless scribbles… Only the sender and the person who reads this letter would know.’

The question was: How did he know, with such certainty, that it contained instructions?

Of course, there was the possibility this fellow spoke the truth, but considering the treachery inherent in dark mages, it seemed highly likely this was a trap.

‘Therefore, what I must do…’

Was not to open the letter and examine its contents.

But rather, to entrust the lingering aura of dark magic upon the letter to a spirit, and ask it to guide me to the source of that aura.

And so, I immediately summoned a spirit, had it sniff the letter, and requested its guidance.

“Myaang!”

The spirit, as if to say “trust me,” barked “myaang, myaang!” while looking in one direction.

I began walking in that direction, and spoke to Lorraine.

“Just knock those fellows unconscious.”

“Yes.”

Those fellows could later be reported to the family and used as witnesses, so knocking them unconscious would be best.

What mattered now was following the lingering aura before it completely dissipated, so I quickened my pace.

“Myaang!”

We arrived at a nearby lakeside.

A place with no apparent connection to dark magic, and as I was voicing my confusion…

The spirit of the sun barked sharply toward the lake’s depths.

‘Beneath the water?’

Could it be the dark mages were hidden beneath the lake?

The thought that such a thing was possible flickered through my mind, but then the thought that since magic existed, what couldn’t be possible also did, so I spoke to Lorraine.

I told her it seemed the dark mages were down there.

* * * * *

Dale, the hero and destined vanquisher of the final boss.

Originally, he should have been lauded for successfully repelling the second invasion faced in the north, earning the recognition of the Northerners and growing at an abnormal pace.

“… I believe I require some rest for a time. The mace struck a rather… sensitive area.”

He lay in a hospital bed, his groin having been struck by Damian Karsaril’s mace simply for having flirted with Elysia.

Fortunately, due to the significant role he’d played in repelling the invasion, he was being treated as a VIP.

However, the location of the injury was quite… delicate, and he was physically and mentally diminished, sinking into despair.

“… Damian. Damian!”

To be struck in such a cherished place caused his rage to surge beyond its limits, constantly overflowing.

He wanted to rush out and exact revenge on Damian immediately.

Demian was not only gone from the North, but still nursing his wounds, so there was nothing I could do immediately.

And so, I suppressed my mounting rage towards Demian, biting down hard as I vowed revenge someday.