Chapter 67 - Sign It for Me! (2)

Duke Comalan of the Kingdom of Ashtalon, west of the Kingdom of Asteria, was a noble of immense power within his kingdom. Unbeknownst to most nobles, he also wielded tremendous influence in the underworld.

Indeed, his reach extended beyond Ashtalon. There was nowhere in the underworld of the allied kingdoms that his influence did not touch.

That had certainly been true. Until recently.

“Hmm...”

It was late at night. In his quiet office, Duke Comalan studied his documents with a face so youthful that no one would have believed he was a middle-aged man who had held his title for over twenty years. Suddenly, he spoke.

“So, it is difficult to exert influence in the Kingdom of Asteria?”

The duke seemed to be muttering to himself in an empty office. Yet, though not a soul was visible nearby, an answer came.

“Yes, that is correct.”

A man emerged from the shadows and knelt before Duke Comalan. It was Shutro, the man who controlled much of Ashtalon’s underworld on the duke’s behalf.

Without turning his head, the duke continued questioning him.

“Not even a little?”

“No, sir. They have disposed of everyone on our side.”

“Did the groups given Abyssal Gems or Abyssal Cores fall so easily?”

“Well—”

Shutro hesitated before answering.

“No groups worthy of receiving Abyssal Gems or Abyssal Cores have joined us in Asteria yet, so—”

“I see. There was no one to recruit.”

“My apologies.”

Shutro bowed his head. The duke tapped the quill in his hand, his face expressionless, then replied indifferently.

“There is no need to bow your head like that.”

“I apolo—”

Shutro lowered his head and began to speak, but—

“—gize? Huh?”

—at that instant, he realized something was wrong. By the time he registered the incongruity, Duke Comalan’s figure was upside down in his vision.

“?”

His face filled with bewilderment, unable to comprehend what was happening.

Then the duke spoke.

“You need only atone with your death.”

At those final words, Shutro’s body collapsed with a thud.

“Clear it away.”

As soon as the quiet order fell, figures slipped out of the darkness and began removing Shutro’s body from the office floor.

Then—

“Inzela.”

At the call of Comalan, who had killed an underworld power broker without a second thought, a large-eared dark elf emerged from the shadows, skin as black as the shadows themselves, and spoke.

“You called?”

“Yes. From now on, you will manage the underworld.”

“Understood.”

The dark elf nodded. Paying no attention to Shutro’s body being dragged into the shadows, the duke continued.

“And... you said we cannot exert influence in Asteria?”

“Yes.”

“How inconvenient. We need it for the plan.”

“Shall I take action?”

At the dark elf’s question, Duke Comalan seemed to consider it for a moment, then shook his head.

“No. We must focus on what has happened in Rakshasha. There is no need to show our strength just yet. Now... the head of the Sword Faction... was it Count Pallatio?”

“Yes. The Sword Faction controlling Asteria’s underworld operates around that noble.”

“Count Pallatio...”

A hint of interest crept into Duke Comalan’s murmuring. After all, Count Pallatio had interfered with his plans several times recently.

It did not appear deliberate, of course, but the count kept becoming needlessly entangled in his affairs, forcing him to redo unnecessary work time and again.

Moreover, the rumors he had heard lately were enough to pique his interest as he prepared his ‘plan.’

“Do not act directly. It would be troublesome if they discovered we had made a move.”

“Understood. What would you have me do, then?”

“Tell those who have taken our bribes to express their displeasure with Count Pallatio. All we want is a certain degree of influence, anyway. Undermine his prestige a little, and cracks will appear in no time.”

Comalan spoke casually, as though well aware of how easily a sandcastle built through politics could crumble.

“This works out nicely. Our contacts in Asteria have been asking us to pay them more attention. Once you deal with the count, use that as a pretext to expand our influence.”

“Understood.”

At the dark elf Inzela’s response, he began to lower his gaze to his papers, only to look up again as though something had occurred to him.

“And how did the experiment go?”

“... If you mean young master Carmine, he is currently in the isolation room.”

“His condition?”

“When he had absorbed only Abyssal Gems, he could still function in daily life despite severe anxiety and excessive aggression. But since we had him absorb an Abyssal Core this year, he has lost all control over his aggression and rage. He is broken.”

The dark elf delivered the report calmly. Yet even as Duke Comalan listened, his expression did not change. He merely seemed to contemplate it for a moment.

“I see.”

“Yes.”

“Very well. See to the matter in Asteria.”

He turned his gaze away, as though he had no further interest.

“Understood.”

The dark elf bowed, then vanished in that posture.

Duke Comalan’s office fell quiet once more, as though no one had ever been there.

####

Alon stared blankly at the marriage registration form, then shifted his gaze to Seollang. Her eyes were shining brightly.

“Let’s become family!”

Her face was brimming with anticipation. But Alon, holding the form, was at a loss beneath his expressionless facade.

‘This is a bit...’

“Is there anything else you want to ask for?”

“No!”

“... I’m sorry, but I cannot grant this request.”

“Aww...”

Seollang’s ears drooped in obvious disappointment. But her disappointed expression did not make Alon want to marry her right then and there.

Objectively speaking, of course, Seollang was hardly lacking as a prospective bride. She was extraordinarily beautiful, and her reputation and status were nothing to scoff at.

But that was only from an objective perspective. For Alon, there were several obstacles.

First, though their age difference was not particularly large, he thought of Seollang as a daughter.

Second, he believed she was asking for marriage not out of genuine romantic love for him, but because she wanted to become ‘family.’ In other words, she liked him, but was not in love with him.

Those two points mattered a great deal to Alon, whose views on romance were fairly conventional. That was why he had refused her request.

“Ooh...”

As Seollang let out a forlorn sound, her tail drooping as though she were miserable, Alon considered what to do.

‘... That betrayal left her traumatized, so I do need to comfort her. But saying we’re already family probably won’t help much.’

After a moment’s thought, he spoke as though he had reached a decision.

“I will consider it when you’re a little older.”

“... How much older?”

“... In two years?”

If he named a date too far away, it would hardly comfort her; too soon, and it would sound strange. He had offered the number purely as consolation, but now he inwardly sighed.

‘Was that too soon?’

Regardless of his misgivings, however—

“Okay!”

Seeing Seollang swish her tail, her spirits apparently restored, Alon breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Well, she’ll change her mind in two years.’

That was his brief conclusion.

####

Some time later, Alon arrived at the forgotten ruins. Leaving Seollang behind after she said she would wait, he set off immediately.

He reached the central tower where he had met that unidentified being before and headed up without hesitation.

Then—

[“Oh, you’ve come.”]

The moment he reached the enormous room, the mysterious being appeared before him as though it had been waiting. Alon looked at it in surprise.

Last time, its form had been so severely crumpled and distorted that he could not make it out. Now, however, he could see its shape clearly.

Despite its human build, it had deer antlers on its head and a long tail growing from its back.

“... A dragon? No... a dragonkin?”

He still could not see its appearance in full detail, but the shadow-veiled outline gave him a rough idea of its identity.

[“Oh—so you can see me? Is it because defeating an Outer God raised your ‘stature’? Impressive. Frankly, I did not think you would manage it.”]

Alon addressed the shadowlike dragonkin before him.

“I nearly died, as it happens.”

[“If a human disposed of an Outer God and merely came close to death, is that not impressive enough? Well... judging by the stature you have accumulated, it seems you dealt with it before it incarnated.”]

The being sat cross-legged on the office desk and propped up its chin.

[“Still, it is rather curious. Even if it had yet to incarnate, how did you kill it? Ordinarily, such a thing would be impossible.”]

As it asked, its long tail curved into a question mark, as though expressing its curiosity.

“I used Manifestation of One’s True Nature.”

[“... Hm? Manifestation of One’s True Nature? You?”]

“Yes?”

[“... Pfft.”]

At Alon’s answer, the being, which had been speaking with boundless arrogance and composure just moments earlier, suddenly stared at him blankly.

[“Bwahahahahaha—!!”]

Then it burst into laughter, throwing its body backward like a child. It even pounded the desk beside it with its fist as though it had heard something truly hilarious. Alon looked bewildered at this sudden behavior.

[“Ah, sorry, sorry—it has been quite a while since I heard a joke like that.”]

“What part of that was a joke?”

[“Your claim that you succeeded in Manifestation of One’s True Nature.”]

The dragonkin wiped the corners of its eyes with a black hand, as though it had laughed itself to tears, and continued.

[“Well, yes, I suppose you could mistake it for that. A mage needs pride, but also a measure of conceit.”]

Its mockery was unmistakable as it spoke.

[“To explain briefly, the very notion of you achieving Manifestation of One’s True Nature is absurd. How could a mere human who has not even grasped the Mourning of the Heart achieve it?”]

“... Mourning of the Heart?”

[“See? You do not even know what that is, yet you speak of Manifestation of One’s True Nature? Pfft—”]

Still snickering, the dragonkin planted a hand on Alon’s shoulder and added,

[“I commend you for defeating an Outer God, but lying is not good. Oh, and if you are embarrassed, I shall permit you to go downstairs for a moment and come back. Off you go.”]

As the being withdrew its hand, chuckling, Alon looked at it and asked,

“... You think I lied?”

[“Indeed.”]

“What if I did not?”

[“If you did not—”]

The dragonkin regarded him like a child who stubbornly refused to yield, then grinned.

[“Very well. If you prove before me that your words are true, I shall call you ‘Master’ from this moment onward! Well? Can you prove it?”]

In response to the dragonkin’s playful challenge, Alon warned,

“Make certain you keep that promise.”

With that, he formed the Fist of Wisdom seal.

[“Yes, yes! I certainly shall! If you really prove it, that is.”]

Watching the being sneer, its voice still thick with ridicule, Alon wondered,

‘Can I do it?’

To be honest, reproducing Manifestation of One’s True Nature with his own mana was nearly impossible. But this was not an actual battle.

‘... If I manifest it on a small scale, without any combat utility, just to prove it, my mana should be enough.’

With that thought, he began quietly reciting the phrases. Magic gradually began to take shape.

Even as the sphere formed before Alon began to change, the dragonkin’s face remained wreathed in a broad smile.

But then the icy sphere before him transformed in an instant into a huge crystal, forming a spear. The smile vanished from the dragonkin’s lips.

[“...?”]

When that spear finally twisted and twisted, creating the key to Manifestation of One’s True Nature—

[“Huh?”]

For the first time, the dragonkin’s face began to fill with confusion. Its eyes, visible only as white, widened as though it were witnessing something wrong.

Then—

“Ice-Crystal Painted Halberd.”

As Alon completed the final phrase, frozen ground manifested before it.

[“Impossible...!?”]

The dragonkin’s face was overcome with shock.