Chapter 22

Morning broke.

Stepping out of the tent, I found myself sinking into the damp mire.

The soldiers, exhibiting impeccable discipline, stood guard around the perimeter and tidied the encampment. Soon, we were setting off for the capital.

The journey lasted three days thereafter, but thankfully, no further attacks occurred. One might suspect that all the Tauros in the vicinity had been reduced to ashes by lightning.

“Enter safely, all of you.”

“I expect to see a somewhat more capable soldier when we next meet.”

Alter added the icy remark to my farewell. He still hadn’t forgiven the squad’s absurd blunders, it seemed.

I transferred to a carriage reserved for dignitaries at the capital’s entrance, then entered a brutally large castle.

Having lived on the ground for the better part of two weeks, I hadn’t slept properly once. So, the instant I arrived at the castle, I wanted to wash the dirt and clumps of mud from my body and collapse into bed, letting the fatigue melt away.

“They are awaiting your report.”

Before I even had a chance to shake off the dirt and mud, the servant waiting for me at the castle’s main gate spoke those words.

…It seemed becoming one with the bed would have to be postponed.

The representatives of each race were waiting for my report, apparently.

“Couldn’t it be done later?”

“…All four are waiting only for Vihn’s report.”

As a three- or four-star ranker, I had the obligation to face the heads of each race and deliver a direct report.

And what can be postponed is not called an obligation.

“His Imperial Majesty, in particular, has high expectations. The issue of food shortages remains unresolved due to the dragon that descended upon the granary region, you see.”

Together with Alter and Lir, I followed the servant’s guidance towards the conference hall.

For some reason, small chairs were placed at regular intervals along the long corridor, seemingly installed during the two weeks I was away on the expedition.

Thanks to them, whenever I was worn out, I could sit and rest as I traversed the kingdom’s corridor, which was as arduous as the long expedition.

I hated that I was moved by such meticulous consideration.

Repeating the process of sitting and rising numerous times, we finally arrived at the conference room.

Following the servant’s instructions, Alter and Lir were left outside the door, and I entered alone.

“Ah, you’ve arrived.”

Around the round table, the heads of each race stared at me with varied expressions.

The Emperor welcomed me with a joyful smile. The Grand Chieftain, seeing my thin, frail frame and soiled clothes, furrowed his brow with concern. The Dwarf King, half-drunk, leaned his torso against the table and looked up at me. And the Elf Queen looked down at me with her characteristic, imperious gaze.

“Report. What became of the Dragon?”

“I killed it.”

I answered the Elf Queen’s question curtly. The weariness of the campaign made the words come out sharper than intended, and she twitched her brow slightly as if displeased.

“And besides that? Was there anything of note?”

“I encountered a high-ranking demon in the Enker Highlands.”

“…What?”

Everyone present wore a bewildered expression at my disjointed report.

From ‘I killed the Dragon’ to suddenly ‘I encountered a high-ranking demon’ – the story took such a sharp turn that everyone seemed to suspect their ears had deceived them.

How could I do otherwise? In all my life, I had never reported my experiences to anyone before.

Could I, like other generals, deliver a concise report outlining the operation in meticulous detail? Of course not, that’s impossible.

Unfortunately, all this middle school graduate, aspiring songwriter knows how to do is tinker with Midina instruments.

Grit your teeth and bear it! You’re the one who chose this parachute hire!

“Heh… Perhaps, in celebration of dealing with the Dragon, you’re sharing a jest…”

The story was so out of the blue that the leaders of each race briefly glanced at each other, wondering if I was making a jest.

“…I suppose there’s no help for it, listen carefully. What happened was…”

I began to recount everything I’d experienced from beginning to end, haphazardly. If I couldn’t summarize and organize the events that occurred, shouldn’t I just spew out whatever came to mind?

Let those listening sort it out in their heads.

…I say again, you’re the one who chose this parachute hire!

“So you tell the story this way, now I finally understand the situation. To suddenly encounter a high-ranking demon,”

After nearly twenty minutes of drawn-out explanation, our tale arrived at the moment we faced the high-ranking demon.

“Leading only a single squad and then encountering a high-ranking demon. Most must have fallen. It’s fortunate you returned alive, at least. What of Alter? Did he perish?”

The Chieftain spoke, his head dipping slightly as if mourning the fallen soldiers.

“No, there were no casualties.”

“…What?”

The Chieftain raised his head, his face etched with confusion as he repeated my words. He seemed to misunderstand me once again.

Watching the leaders of the various races react to my words, their eyes widening in unison, it struck me that I might be a natural storyteller.

Unexpected twists are a weapon to captivate an audience, aren’t they? I seem to recall hearing that in some video titled something like ‘How to Charm People with Conversation’.

Though I fail to see why a military report requires ‘unexpected twists’…

“Due to a moment of carelessness during camp, we nearly faced disaster, but fortunately, we concluded the expedition with zero injuries, zero deaths.”

“You say you encountered a high-ranking demon? And yet, not a single casualty, not even an injury?”

Even the Dwarf King, slumped against the round table with half-lidded eyes, perked up, his gaze sharpening with disbelief.

“For some reason, no aberrations existed around the demon. Perhaps because of this, the adversary seemed hesitant to fight against me.”

“…Indeed, if it was alone, it makes sense. With you, and Alter Heindel included in the expedition, even a high-ranking demon would be wary.”

“You were lucky, or rather, should we say encountering a high-ranking demon in the first place was bad luck….”

Chieftain-nim, how can you even ask such a ridiculous question?

Of course, it was bad luck.

Like, monumentally bad.

“No aberrations? Then, combined, you and Heindel could have slain the high-ranking demon. Why let it go?”

The Elven Queen, who had been listening to the report in silence, posed the question as though puzzled.

The image ingrained in their minds was of me, “the genius magician who survived against a Grand Duke without learning any magic.” It wasn’t strange that such a question arose.

“The stage was unfavorable. Both Altar Heindel and I are lightning mages, and fighting there would have caused a fire to spread rapidly, destroying most of the grain.”

“There is merit to that argument.”

The Emperor, listening quietly, nodded in agreement.

“Certainly, the objective of your expedition was to capture the dragon of the Enker Plateau, the continent’s largest granary, and reclaim the food supply. Not engaging in battle there was, I believe, a sound judgment.”

The Tribal Chief also nodded, reinforcing that my decision had not been wrong.

“…Couldn’t you have simply moved the battle somewhere else? Even if he’s lesser than a Grand Duke, killing a High Demon would still be a great service to all of humanity.”

The Elven Queen, seemingly unable to let go of the fact that a High Demon had slipped through her fingers, wore a dissatisfied expression.

Some were saying it was fortunate that I returned alive, while others were demanding to know why I couldn’t kill the High Demon.

What in the world did they want me to do?

“Of course, I didn’t let him go empty-handed.”

From my robe’s inner pocket, I produced the bracelet made from the ‘Devil’s Contract.’ This bracelet had naturally fallen from my wrist precisely 72 hours after the transaction.

“That is…”

They all tilted their heads forward with curious expressions.

“In exchange for letting him live, I demanded the withdrawal of all demons and mutated creatures from the Akiliptus Forest region.”

“Ho ho…”

Only then did the Elven Queen cast a gaze at me, a small smile forming at the corners of her lips.

“A genius is certainly different.”

…She was clearly praising me, but for some reason, due to her tone and demeanor, I didn’t feel entirely pleased.

“The Achilliptus Forest, you say… that’s the military nexus connecting ‘Valor Land,’ where the Sword Saint and his party are currently locked in fierce combat, to the capital. A region we’ve been unable to reclaim due to the abundance of cover and its notoriously treacherous terrain…”

“An excellent choice! Ha, our Sword Saint truly has a remarkable eye for talent!”

“Lower your voice, Dwarf. And it seems we should be praising this little one, not the Sword Saint, at the moment.”

“Hmph, did I say our promising prodigy did nothing of note? Praising the Sword Saint, praising our genius prodigy, praising them both is for the best! I fail to see what you’re complaining about, Elf!”

I couldn’t, for the life of me, understand why the Elven Queen and the Dwarven King were seated next to each other, so I shook my head and glanced at the Emperor.

Shouldn’t those two be kept as far apart as possible?

“Ahem…”

The Emperor… merely offered a wry smile, as if mortified.

“In any case, the Achilliptus Forest is currently a no-man’s land. As soon as preparations are complete, I intend to lead soldiers there and establish an outpost.”

Within the Achilliptus Forest slumbers a Lightning Spirit.

Awakening the sleeping spirit and forming a bond would grant me a special reward that could not be obtained through ordinary means, a reward desperately needed for my… peculiar mage build.

If I were to continue allowing the leaders before me to misunderstand me as an ‘unprecedented genius,’ I had to diligently improve my specifications.

“You intend to lead the expedition yourself?”

The Chieftain asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

Regardless of how outstanding my achievements were, or how exceptional my magical talent, entrusting such an operation to me felt… unsettling.

Which was, in a way, understandable.

Even though I had been recognized by the Sword Saint, had become a member of his party, and had instantly gained a general-level rank… I naturally lacked the command skills to match.

I was deficient as a commander.

And I had felt that truth acutely during this campaign. When Alter raised his voice, warning and whipping soldiers for their mistakes, I had remained silent.

“Of course not. I have no military experience, so it would be best if you assigned me a capable commander.”

For a parachutist, the most crucial thing is grasping one’s own limits.

Far wiser to embark with a reliable adjutant than to stubbornly insist otherwise.

“I shall formulate a plan with utmost haste, and fix the departure date. And assign you a trustworthy adjutant, rest assured.”

“Thank you.”

With that exchange concluded, I bid farewell to the leaders of each race and departed the conference chamber.

Just before leaving, the leaders who remained were already engrossed in summoning their aides, unfurling maps, and conducting their war councils.

“Haa…”

The moment that enormous door closed behind me, I couldn’t help but exhale a deep sigh of relief.

Though I didn’t betray it outwardly, I had been fraught with anxiety throughout the report, terrified of committing some blunder, leaving me layered with fatigue.

“So weary, are you?”

Lir, who had been awaiting me with Alter outside the hall, inquired with a concerned expression.

I lacked even the energy to reply. I merely nodded, continuing to exhale sighs.

“Shall I carry you on my back?”

Perhaps sensing my significantly weakened state, the middle-aged servant inquired cautiously.

Even so, being carried on the back of a man past fifty, with a body not yet twenty…

“Yes, please.”

It was good.

Hm.

Very good, indeed.

“…Seriously?”

Lir, seemingly flustered, asked in a small voice, but I paid her no mind, entrusting my body to the middle-aged servant’s back.

“Well, I must be lighter than Lady Lir… I doubt it matters, does it?”

It was sincere.

Lir might not know it, but the body I saw in the mirror every time I showered was nothing more than a skeleton draped with skin.

Comparing myself to a fairly well-built Elf would be an insult – that’s how frail I was!

“U-um…”

Lir blinked, speechless, then clamped her mouth shut, pulling down the brim of her mud-splattered hat and bowing her head.

“Good night, then.”

Regardless, I, still carried on the middle-aged servant’s back, bid farewell to Alter and Lir.

To be able to enter my room without walking myself.

‘I’ve made it.’

Nearly two weeks after becoming a member of the Sword Saint’s party, I was finally tasting the true flavor of power.