Chapter 35: The Letter
“I’ve seen more terrified human faces than I can count. So why do the faces of these trembling people look so ridiculous to ?”
“……”
“Cut the act. It’s disgusting.”
The village chief’s face, which had been bowed down, suddenly lifted. His expression was blank, like a puppet’s. The mont his eyes t Kal’s, Lyon’s sword moved like lightning.
Shrrrip—
Blood sprayed through the air as both of the chief’s arms were severed.
The cut surfaces turned ghostly white, frost creeping over them as the tissue began to decay. Evidence of Lyon’s special ability, the icy edge of the Blade Wind.
Lyon had used his power to capture the chief alive, but the man flung himself at Kal without uttering a single scream.
“Die!!!”
The chief’s chest began to bulge, spiking outward like a set of sharp teeth, as his whole body twisted and bulged with veins.
Kal rely scoffed, shielding himself with his cloak, while Lyon stepped forward and extended his hand. A blue light flashed from a ring on his finger.
A blue ring.
BOOOOOOM—!!!!!!
With an explosion, chunks of flesh and bone scattered in all directions. So of the nearby villagers caught in the blast died instantly, reduced to mangled remains.
Wiiing—!!
Lyon lowered his shield, his expression unchanging.
The shield was a kite-shaped barrier made of blue light, a gift from his master only a week ago—the “Nesis Ice Shield.” Lyon grimaced slightly at the sight of flesh clinging to the shield before he raised it once again. From all directions, a murderous aura filled the air.
As if the explosion had been a signal, the villagers, now drenched in blood, charged toward Kal with maddened eyes.
All of them moved with unnatural agility, aiming for Kal as though he were prey.
Surrounded in an instant, Lyon snarled and adjusted his stance.
“Rengua, do sothing!”
In response to Lyon’s shout, a massive, blood-red magic circle appeared in the center of the first floor.
The entire space was bathed in a crimson light. Realizing the ominous nature of this energy, the villagers—or rather, the assassins—sprinted toward Kal with even greater urgency.
Then, suddenly—
Squelch—!
Dozens, if not hundreds, of blood-red vines extended from within the magic circle like tentacles. These vines, resembling human veins, squird and pulsed with a grotesque vitality, quickly entangling the assassins and staining the entire room red.
The assassins dangled from the red vines, pinned to the walls like skewers, much like prey caught in a spider’s web.
The walls were now decorated with over a hundred skewered bodies, painting a grisly red mosaic.
Ugh…
Moans escaped from all directions, and the impaled assassins could do nothing but roll their eyes frantically. Monts later, figures in dark robes erged from behind the knights.
It was Rengua and the shamans.
Rengua approached Kal and bowed respectfully.
Kal briefly examined the remains of the village chief, which had disintegrated completely, and clicked his tongue.
“Boom? So, this was Crux’s doing?”
He recognized it imdiately—it was the sa suicide bombing tactic that had left a scar on his face in his previous life.
The Boom was sothing Kal was quite familiar with.
He’d thought this village was connected to "him," but was he wrong?
“What are your orders?”
Lyon brought over a chair, and Kal sat down, contemplating for a mont. Then, he gave Rengua a slight nod.
Rengua bowed and approached the assassins skewered by the vines, with the other shamans following him. They held tools for extracting mories.
“Gaaah—!!!!”
“Aaaaah! Aaah—!!!”
Agonized screams filled the room as the shamans restrained each assassin one by one, drawing out their mories. Blood stread from their eyes, noses, and ears, and they shrieked as if vomiting blood. The shamans continued their work, oblivious to whether the assassins lived or died, carefully storing the extracted mories in crystal orbs.
“It’s a sha the chief died. He might have had useful mories.”
“My apologies.”
“Lyon, it’s not your fault. Even I didn’t expect a Boom. Capturing a brainwashed target alive is no easy task. Bring so tea, would you? My throat is parched.”
“Understood.”
As Lyon left to fetch the tea, Kal leaned back in his chair and pulled sothing from his pocket. It was a letter, which he began to read once again.
The letter from "him."
Though he’d read it several tis already, Kal found himself returning to it whenever he had a spare mont.
It was his way of trying to understand "his" mindset.
“This bothers . It really bothers .”
Kal paused at a particular line in the letter, frowning. This was unusual for soone as restrained as him to show such irritation over a single sentence.
[The black cloak does not suit you.]
“……”
It was sothing he’d read three days ago. The black cloak… Kal looked down at his own cloak.
The Cloak of Dragon’s Fang.
An ancient artifact that Lyon had recently taken from the Marcia rchant, who had been killed. The letter hinted that "he" knew Kal would obtain the Cloak of Dragon’s Fang.
Lyon returned and handed Kal a teacup.
The room was filled with pain and screams, a scene from hell itself, but Kal calmly sipped his tea, unaffected.
“Reading it again?”
“It’s like hearing a prophecy. It’s revolting.”
“Do you think he’s really not here?”
“The letter makes it feel as though he knows my every move. There’s a strong sense of that. It feels like he’s watching , yet when I search, he’s nowhere to be found.”
As things stood, the negotiations with "him" had been postponed.
Though Kal had received the proposed terms for an alliance, the ssenger sent to deliver them had mysteriously disappeared.
The problem was that Kal himself, who had ordered the kidnapping, didn’t know the current whereabouts of that ssenger.
“No news from the observer?”
“It seems he’s been eliminated.”
“Kevlin is a Four-Star knight. If he was taken down, it ans the ssenger had an ally nearby. ‘He’ is using the ssenger’s disappearance as an excuse to delay negotiations. Is he toying with ?”
“I shouldn’t have assigned Ben to the task. My apologies.”
“I didn’t expect much from him. Ben was just bait to lower their guard. Still, it’s a sha we couldn’t identify the ssenger’s accomplice.”
Both of them recalled Ben, who had returned alone a few days ago. He reported that he’d lost the ssenger and that everyone who’d accompanied him had been killed. When Rengua attempted to extract Ben’s mories, he found nothing useful; Ben had apparently been unconscious when he’d arrived at the gorge.
All they learned was that the ssenger had set a fire as a signal of allegiance, then struck Ben from behind and escaped.
Kevlin should have been following the ssenger, but since there had been no news, it seed, as Lyon suggested, that Kevlin had been taken down.
“The vagrant who delivered this letter left no trace either. All we know is that this place is sohow connected to Crux. Why did ‘he’ choose this village as the eting point?”
Lyon remained silent, knowing his master wasn’t actually looking for an answer. It was Kal’s way of unraveling mysteries—by posing questions to himself.
“That’s annoying.”
“……”
For Lyon, it was unusual to hear his master expressing irritation rather than an answer.
Monts later, Rengua approached, having finished his work, and reported his findings to Kal.
“So, this was indeed a hidden Crux outpost?”
“It appears to be a major base. We found significant information related to Crux.”
“Any information about ‘him’?”
“There was no mory related to ‘him.’ However, we did find evidence that the ssenger stayed in this village for a ti.”
“The ssenger?”
Kal’s interest was piqued for the first ti, and Rengua continued with a vigorous nod.
“It seems he stayed briefly to prepare for an assassination. All the assassins who were executed had mories of him being here. However…”
“However?”
“There’s evidence that soone else approached the ssenger secretly.”
“Who, specifically?”
“There’s information that the ssenger t soone alone in the village storage. But no one knows who this contact was. I suspect it might have been one of Crux’s senior mbers…”
“eting alone in the storage, hmm.”
Kal quietly looked down at the letter.
The last line, labeled as a “postscript.”
[The bread and soup at this village’s inn are quite good. You should try them before you leave.]
“……”
At first, he’d dismissed it as nonsense.
But now, reading it again, it seed like a blatant hint that "he" had been in this village.
It was possible that "he" was the mysterious contact who t with the ssenger in the village storage.
‘What kind of ga is he playing?’
Kal’s mind churned with questions. He couldn’t figure out "his" intentions. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that the letter’s contents weren’t lies.
[Since I’ve unilaterally postponed our negotiation, allow to give you a useful piece of information. There’s a wizard in your Blyer Territory, at the House of Haren, who is researching a potion called “kerik’s Elixir.” If you’re interested in acquiring this elixir…]
kerik’s Elixir was sothing Kal had already secured. He had killed the wizard and given the potion to Lyon, which allowed Lyon to reach Five-Star. Although it was old news, this information was legitimate.
‘It’s not just that he knows about —he knows a lot more.’
But how was he getting this information?
The more Kal pondered "him," the more questions arose instead of answers. Had he ever felt this level of curiosity, this intense desire to uncover the truth about a single person?
A slow, simring urge began to build within him—a desire to kill "him" no matter what.
Kal closed his eyes and took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. Every ti he thought about "him," an unusual surge of anger flared up.
Even Kal didn’t fully understand this volatile reaction within himself.
His irritation resurfaced.
“Lyon.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“We’re leaving. Prepare the carriage.”
“What about this place…?”
Kal rose from his chair and surveyed his surroundings. Moans echoed from all around.
Eyes filled with a desperate plea for rcy looked back at him.
“Burn it all to the ground.”
But he was no savior; he was a butcher.
Fwoooosh—!
The village was engulfed in flas.
Under the dark night sky, ashes danced in the air like embers as they floated up, filling the air. Kal observed the burnt remains of the village, then climbed into the carriage. Lyon, on horseback, took up a guard position beside the carriage, and thirty other riders lined up behind.
Just before the carriage departed, Kal rolled down the window and looked out.
“Rengua.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Take all the shamans and head to Laup Forest. Hunt the chiras there and gather mana stones.”
“What if we encounter Dominic?”
“By now, he should be near the Beneta Territory, so you’re unlikely to run into him. But if you do, avoid any confrontation. Do not engage him.”
“Understood.”
“When you’ve gathered enough mana stones, spread the word across Etor that these stones can enhance a mana user’s abilities.”
“Understood.”
Rengua nodded obediently, having already been briefed by Kal on the dangerous side effects of the mana stones.
“The main Crux base is in Etor, correct?”
“Yes. We’ve also figured out how they communicate.”
“Once you’re done with the mana stone operation, stay in Etor and continue gathering information on Crux. Be prepared to take action whenever necessary.”
“Do you intend to wipe out Crux?”
“I’ll decide based on the situation.”
Although Crux had once been useful as a hired assassin organization, Kal had largely dismissed them as insignificant. However, if they were connected to "him," things would be different. Kal planned to confirm whether Crux was truly associated with "him" before making any decisions.
As Rengua led the shamans off to Laup Forest, Kal’s carriage finally set off. Sitting alone in the carriage as it rattled along the path, Kal’s thoughts turned to Donecolint.
‘Not a word. Too quiet.’
By now, the rumor of the Siren’s Scream should have been spreading, drawing attention, but it was as if Donecolint had vanished from existence, as though it had been swallowed up by the earth.
Every effort Kal had made to recruit him seed wasted.
Once again, the future had twisted off course.
***
The dull throbbing pain in my head brought back to consciousness. I opened my eyes, feeling disoriented, and realized I was lying down.
The ceiling was unfamiliar.
Slowly, the mories returned, and I recalled the procedure Karl had perford on .
I raised my left arm, and sure enough, there was a dull, heavy sensation around my wrist. The bracelet Karl had ntioned was fastened securely there, its rough tal surface cool against my skin.
“You’re awake?”
I turned my head to see Karl sitting nearby, watching .
“How long was I out?”
“About a day and a half. I was starting to think you’d sleep forever.”
I tried to sit up, feeling a wave of dizziness. Karl tossed a waterskin over to , and I took a long drink, feeling the cool water wash away the dryness in my throat.
“So… did it work?”
“The bug has relocated to your wrist. As long as you keep wearing the bracelet, it’ll slowly wither away over the next month.”
I glanced down at the bracelet on my wrist. Its plain, rough appearance hid the fact that it was a magical artifact, one specifically designed to kill the creature now confined to my wrist.
“What happens if I take it off?”
“It won’t die. In fact, it’ll probably go berserk trying to return to your heart. You don’t want to experience that.”
“Noted.”
I carefully flexed my wrist, feeling the weight of the bracelet. The discomfort was minimal, though the thought of the creature lurking inside was unsettling.
“Well, consider it a test of patience,” Karl remarked with a faint smirk.
“Patience has never been my strong suit.”
“Then think of it as a life lesson.”
The man had a way of turning even the most mundane statents into sothing ominous. I shook off the lingering unease and took another drink from the waterskin.
“Anyway, I appreciate it.”
“Don’t thank . I have my own reasons.”
Of course he did. In this world, nothing ca for free.
I reached out to shake his hand, but Karl waved off with a slight smirk.
“Save the gratitude. Just don’t die on . I’d hate for my efforts to go to waste.”
With that, he rose to his feet, signaling that the conversation was over.
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