Episode 345 – The Mousetrap (3)
Azonne remained on high alert as he faced the man before him.
Arcane, the Prophet of Fate.
With his flowing snow-white hair and gaze that seed half-lidded, as though his eyes were closed, it was impossible to guess what he was thinking.
To those who didn’t know better, he would seem nothing more than a mystical and gentle fortune-teller.
But to those who knew his true nature, it was impossible to face Arcane comfortably.
Especially for those who bore Divine Power—They had no choice but to be wary.
Arcane possessed eyes that pierced through divine bearers.
He was “the one who served the gods,” the person who could read a divine bearer’s list of powers more precisely than anyone.
He was also the first to uncover Azonne’s true identity:
[Owner of the Black Market]
‘I should never have let my guard down back then...’
He had made the mistake of desiring Arcane, whose ability to read divine power surpassed even that of witches.
Azonne had tried to trap him and make him the Black Market’s property—
But Arcane was far too powerful to be captured.
As punishnt for his failure, Arcane had exposed his entire list of divine nas.
From then on, the two had maintained a complicated relationship.
On the surface, their positions seed equal, but Azonne knew well—This was a hierarchy, with Arcane on top.
His identity being in Arcane’s hands—That alone was enough to make refusing his requests difficult.
“Where are you rushing off to?”
“Just get to the point. It’s not exactly ideal if soone sees the two of us together.”
“I don’t think that would be a problem. For , anyway.”
“Did you co just to pick a fight?”
Azonne’s face twisted slightly, but Arcane simply waved a hand and smiled softly.
“Just teasing. You’re tense today.”
Arcane pulled out a slip of paper and tossed it into the air.
The paper fluttered, transforming into sothing like a living bird before flying away.
‘What is it this ti…’
Azonne snatched the slip and read it. His frown quickly gave way to confusion. Written on it were mysterious pieces of information regarding a divine bearer.
[Arthur XXXX – Divine Hunter (XX)]
[XXXXXXX]
[Siren’s Hymn]
[Heart of XXXXX]
[Guide of the Allied Forces]
[Ring of Desire (XX)]
[Leader of Hunt (X)]
[Benefactor of the Witches]
[XXX (XXX)]
[Blessing of the World Tree]
[XXXX XX (XX, XX)]
An incomprehensible jumble of words.
Unknown phrases marked with “X” scattered throughout.
“What... is this?”
“It’s Alex Marcia’s divine na list.”
“…What?!”
For once, even Azonne couldn’t hide his shock. This was Alex’s divine na list?
He hurriedly re-examined the slip.
[Arthur XXXX – Divine Hunter (XX)]
“The na’s... different?”
The divine na wasn’t listed under Alex Marcia.
It was Arthur. A na Azonne had never heard before.
As he whispered the na “Arthur,” Arcane stepped forward.
“If you’d searched for divine power under the na Alex, you’d have co up empty, wouldn’t you?”
“You’re right.”
Azonne had sacrificed witches as offerings in the Black Market, trying to uncover Alex’s divine na—but had gained nothing.
He’d assud the issue lay with the witches, but that wasn’t it.
The na itself was wrong.
‘Now that I think about it, no witch reacted to his divine presence at all.’
He never even considered the World Tree Union’s representative might be using an alias.
But it wasn’t just Azonne—Even the Union seed unaware of the truth.
Despite extensive investigations, nothing had seed off. They had all been fooled.
“Unbelievable.”
“My request is for you to uncover more details about his divine nas.”
Azonne hesitated.
There were too many unknowns among the listed divine nas.
“This is all you could find?”
“Arthur is the only one whose divine na changed from ‘Recluse of the Rift’ to ‘Divine Hunter.’ His divine power is… exceptional.”
“And this is all even you could dig up, Arcane?”
“For now, yes.”
Azonne, fully aware of Arcane’s abilities, let out a quiet groan.
After a mont, he folded the note and looked away.
“You want to find what even you couldn’t?”
“If you offer a worthy sacrifice, the gods will answer.”
“You lunatic. Do you know how many witches would have to die for that? They could all end up dead.”
“You’ll replace them. You always do.”
“So now I have to restock witches too? That’s easier said than done. Right now, witches are rarer than gold.”
“Isn’t that why you’re preparing a plan? To secure more witches?”
At those words, spoken with a smile, Azonne froze. His expression hardened.
‘He knows about my plan?’
“You know what I’m planning to do?”
“If it succeeds, you’ll gain the World Tree.”
“The World Tree?”
“Or even beco the ruler of Hell Gri. What you’re about to do will change your destiny.”
Ruler of Hell Gri.
A sweet temptation.
And hearing such a thing from the mouth of Arcane only made Azonne’s heart pound harder.
His confidence in his plan soared. But as he watched, Arcane’s smile wavered ever so slightly.
‘If it succeeds, that is…’
Arcane whispered the thought, but Azonne didn’t hear it.
In truth, Arcane himself wasn’t sure whether Azonne’s plan would succeed.
‘The future tied to Arthur is completely obscured.’
Arthur was the core figure behind the World Tree Union.
Because of that, anything involving the Union was always cloaked in fog, impossible to clearly divine.
Recently, Arcane had discovered the cause:
[Blessing of the World Tree]
The World Tree’s protection.
“If my plan works, your request becos aningless, you know.”
If things went Azonne’s way tomorrow, Arthur would die.
“I act only according to the prophecy. Can I expect Arthur’s information by today?”
“Impossible. I’ve already pushed the witches to their limits trying to get data on another divine bearer.”
“You don’t care about sacrificing them, do you?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“…Sha.”
“Why not just join my plan instead? It seems we share the sa goal.”
If Arcane joined, Azonne wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. But Arcane shook his head and stepped back.
“Unfortunately, there’s been no revelation. I’ll contact you again later.”
Just before he turned away, Arcane stopped and gave a quiet warning.
“You’ll need to prepare your plan with even greater perfection. Leave no gaps—none at all.”
“Giving that kind of advice… You really do want Arthur dead, don’t you?”
The ntion of Arthur’s death made Arcane pause.
Did he truly want Arthur dead?
…Well.
“If he becos a friend, maybe things would change.”
Arcane’s standard for calling soone a friend was simple— Soone who could survive, no matter what.
He turned his head slightly and smiled.
“I hope I get to see you smiling next ti.”
“Worried about ?”
“Because we’re friends.”
With that, Arcane slowly vanished into the forest. Azonne watched his retreating figure for a mont before hurrying off.
Thanks to the uninvited guest, his eting with the Cleaners had been delayed.
Kwaaaahhh!
As Azonne arrived at the waterfall marking the upper reaches of the Kenline River, the sound of crashing water echoed loudly.
Mist sprayed coolly into the air.
When Azonne stepped into view near the falls, a man was waiting for him—A large figure with many swords strapped to his back.
Richard Volpent, Special Task Captain.
He turned and looked at Azonne.
“Unexpected. So you’re the guest we’ve been waiting for.”
“Thought it would be Gram?”
“Fifty-fifty. We are near Aintrier.”
As Richard responded, he raised a hand, and three Cleaners erged around Azonne, forming a loose encirclent.
They didn’t seem hostile—Just waiting for orders.
Richard stepped in front of Azonne and gave a short nod.
“So, guest. I hear you’ve got a request. What is it?”
“I want you to do what you do best.”
“What we do best?”
At his question, Azonne smiled deeply and said slowly—
“Hunt.”
***
A portal hovering in the air shimred in response.
Wooouuuung!
The portal, which had been expanding and contracting like a living thing, suddenly burst into light and fully activated.
From a distance, many figures were watching.
A variety of them.
Elves, witches, dwarves, even a few other races. Beneath a massive, towering tree, they gathered before the portal.
Soon, shadows began to form within the glowing gate, and one by one, elves stepped through.
Those watching gasped in awe—So clasped their hands together, crying openly.
The elves continued pouring out of the portal.
At first, they were startled by the crowd surrounding them.
But then their eyes lifted—And saw the imnse, radiant tree rising beyond.
“…Ah…!”
It couldn’t be taken in at a glance.
Just standing before it made their hearts ache and goosebumps rise.
The World Tree.
The Elves’ mother.
“…Ahhh…”
The reactions of the elves erging from the portal were the sa—Shock at the crowd, tears at the sight of the World Tree.
They fell to their knees, weeping and embracing one another.
After countless years, they had finally returned to the mother of their dreams.
“…This wasn’t what I was expecting.”
Watching them was a slender blonde dark elf. Fenry, blinking slowly, pulled out her pipe.
“Why do you all cry the mont you see the World Tree?”
“She’s our mother.”
A blonde elf with pale skin and deep blue eyes approached, smiling gently.
Unlike Fenry’s dark skin, she glowed like ivory.
Nella—
In the Ordor Forest, she was known as the Priestess. In Tobaron, she was called the Saint. She was now the spiritual leader of the World Tree Union.
“Oh, Nella, you cried too, didn’t you?”
“It’s impossible not to cry the first ti you see Mother.”
“I didn’t cry when I saw the World Tree.”
“Well, Master, your crying triggers must be different from ours.”
“‘Crying triggers’? What’s wrong with my crying triggers?”
“When you lose money? Or when Arthur takes it from you?”
Fenry sucked on her pipe and looked up at the sky. She wanted to argue, but… she had no retort.
“…Anyway, when’s that little bastard bringing back my money?”
Arthur—the guy who had sweet-talked her and taken everything.
She’d realized too late how badly she’d been scamd. By then, all her money was long gone.
“If he runs, I’ll open him up.”
Muttering bitterly to herself, she glanced back toward the portal.
Now that the elven emotions had settled…
“…Looks like that’s the last one.”
A figure landed softly from the portal. Not an elf, but a human.
Fenry’s eyes lit up, hoping it was who she expected. It wasn’t.
Frowning as he approached, she bit down on her pipe. It was Elton, one of the Ghosts of the Forest.
“Where’s Arthur? Why are you here?”
“Arthur sent .”
“That bastard?”
Fenry raised an eyebrow, now clearly interested. Elton gave a wry smile and handed her a note.
Eagerly, Fenry opened it.
Her face twisted imdiately.
“…That crazy bastard.”
***
[Dear Patron: Please co collect your money.]
A bizarre ssage was written inside.
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