CHAPTER 139. Today, even with a mouth…
After everything ended.
Mount Flique, now reduced to ruins.
Sion sat in front of an empty campfire and quietly stared at the flames that still flickered.
Aster’s group had come down the mountain long ago.
“……”
After staring at the fire with burning eyes for a long while, Sion suddenly opened his mouth.
“…What do you think?”
“What are you referring to?”
“The story that Deculan was involved in House Impyr’s downfall.”
“That is….”
Zike stopped speaking and gathered his thoughts.
In truth, House Impyr’s downfall was an incident still shrouded in suspicion even now.
What kind of house was House Impyr?
Among Lortel’s vassal houses, it was proudly counted among the very foremost.
And yet such a group, as if overnight, collapsed rapidly.
The Head of House fell ill, the Heir Apparent died suddenly. With blood relatives dying one after another, they lost their center and scattered.
Too vicious a situation to call it coincidence.
“That… has been raised several times as suspicion. Not necessarily Deculan, but that there must have been a culprit.”
“Then Deculan was not mentioned?”
“Yes, that is correct. And in truth, without clear evidence….”
“Nothing changes?”
“…Yes.”
Zike bowed his head as if apologetic. But Sion seemed to think differently.
“Why is there no evidence? There’s the Eighth Elder, isn’t there.”
“But…! Even that isn’t certain yet.”
“Even if it isn’t the Eighth Elder, it’s not as if there’s no method at all.”
“Don’t tell me….”
At Sion’s words, Zike’s voice trembled. He felt an unidentifiable anxiety in that tremor.
“Are you… going to do as they said?”
“…And if I do?”
“It could be a scheme to sow discord.”
“Maybe.”
Sion said that much, then closed his mouth again.
Tadak, tak.
A heavy silence settled by the burning campfire. Using that silence as a backdrop, Sion recalled what had been said earlier.
- There is… no evidence at present that Deculan took part in Impyr’s downfall. The Eighth Elder? The bastard is the same. There’s no way he left information like that behind, and even if he did, there would be no way to find it.
In other words, there was no justification.
And Deculan are snake-like bastards who use “justification” however it suits their taste.
If Sion poked clumsily, Sion could end up suffering for it.
And yet, that mysterious mage said:
- First, announce it externally. “We have uncovered Impyr’s culprit.” But from the start, you must not aim directly at “Deculan.”
- What meaning does that have?
- If you stop at announcing it, it has no meaning. Naturally, action must follow too. So….
It had to show “We know it’s you,” while also being at a level that’s hard to refute, right?
They even kindly gave an example.
- There are many methods. Move troops… no, that’s too obvious. Instead, yes. How about this?
‘Send the Ten Swords (十劍) for a stroll through Deculan’s domain? Ha!’
It truly was a brilliant idea.
More direct than moving troops, but the Ten Swords were, in the end, “individuals.”
Their force rivaled a legion, but strictly speaking, they were not an army.
It was the best option to suppress Deculan’s backlash while applying pressure.
And what else did they say?
“Even that alone would make Deculan panic and move on their own….”
As Sion murmured lowly, Zike spoke right then.
“It’s too sloppy.”
“Sloppy?”
“Yes. Deculan are meticulous people. And yet, for them to fall for such probing moves….”
“Is impossible?”
“Yes, that is correct.”
At Zike’s firm answer, Sion nodded.
Yes. That was right.
“Deculan are meticulous… and of course, they didn’t leak evidence. But, Sir Zike.”
“Yes, Young Lord.”
Zike listened silently, focused on Sion’s words.
“Didn’t you hear earlier? Because they are so meticulous, if we move like this, they’ll be forced to confirm it even more.”
“That is….”
“Moreover, aren’t we Lortel? If Deculan uses justification like a snake, we have followed justification as it is. And yet….”
Sion paused to organize thoughts, then continued.
“If we act that directly, what do you think Deculan will think? Do you think they can simply stand firm with confidence, arms behind their back? I don’t think so.”
Most likely, Deculan would be startled.
Because for Lortel to move in earnest meant Lortel had secured that level of justification.
This was precisely….
Lortel.
The name value built by the House of Knights.
“Unlike Deculan, we have stubbornly followed justification, so perhaps this is a move worth trying.”
“……”
After Sion said that much, Zike could find no more words.
Because Sion was right.
Lortel, which—unlike a famous house—had stubbornly followed causes and justification.
If Lortel moved, who in the world would question that march?
‘No—even if the whole world questions it… Deculan, the party involved, cannot.’
So how would they move?
The prediction wasn’t hard.
‘With Deculan’s nature… they’ll first reprimand the responsible parties who were involved back then.’
They would root out “traitors.”
But even then, if they found no definitive thread….
Then they would turn their eyes outward.
Was there something they missed?
What exactly did Lortel know?
But Zike had one doubt.
“I understand the idea is to find evidence when Deculan wavers. But if no evidence emerges….”
“Then only my face is harmed and it ends. Do we lose anything? We didn’t point a finger directly at Deculan from the start, did we.”
“But… isn’t this a situation where it isn’t even certain that Deculan is the culprit behind Impyr’s downfall?”
“Of course, we won’t move immediately. We’ll need our own investigation.”
“Investigation, you say….”
“There’s the Eighth Elder, isn’t there?”
At the Young Lord’s endlessly light remark, Zike lost his words.
If someone of the Young Lord’s stature spoke, even dignity itself would carry a weight unlike ordinary people’s. Compared to that burden, it was far too irresponsible a remark.
But Sion hadn’t told Zike everything.
‘You may not know, but… fabricating evidence is not Deculan’s exclusive property.’
They say Lortel is an honorable house of knights, but could such a massive organization truly be pure? No.
Deculan’s wickedness is so foul that it draws all eyes, but famous houses everywhere carried filthy sewers within them.
That applied to Lortel, of course, and also Brando, Dinai, Dolanfe.
But Lortel had one thing that set it apart from other famous houses.
‘…All wickedness is borne by the blood relatives.’
They do not personally pile wickedness up in the field, but every choice and responsibility rests solely on the blood relatives.
That was the responsibility of those born with the noblest blood in the most honorable Lortel.
It was something that not even the Ten Swords (十劍) would reveal.
Of course, among the other Ten Swords, there may be some who know this, but heavenly warriors like the Third Sword did not know this cruel truth.
Anyway.
‘If we’ve decided to strike… then we strike. That’s all.’
Even in the worst case—meaning even if Deculan is not behind Impyr’s downfall—it didn’t matter.
It was an established fact that Deculan was in contact with the Eighth Elder, and once the resolve was made, they could be entangled however needed.
And also….
After finishing that thought, Sion turned eyes toward Zike, who stood with mouth slightly agape in disbelief.
“And I don’t think it’s a scheme to sow discord.”
“…?”
At Sion’s confident words, Zike looked at Sion with unfamiliar eyes.
It was astonishing.
The Young Lord… someone who would feel disgust at mages—yet he trusted a mage’s words that much?
‘Did he see something I did not?’
“You look curious.”
“Yes. Why do you think so….”
“Well. Funny enough, it isn’t a logical reason. It’s just….”
Sion narrowed his eyes and searched his memory.
That gaze swept over the place where Aster had been sitting earlier.
The eyes Aster had carried, reflected in the burning campfire—how should one put it?
“Malice.”
“Pardon?”
“I felt thick malice. Very thick… sticky malice.”
Sion could feel it clearly.
The thick, deep malice hanging over those eyes—and that it was directed at Deculan.
And that, more than any proof, gave Sion an even firmer conviction.
‘But still, this is….’
As Sion reached that thought, “Puha!”—a laugh burst out of his mouth.
“…Young Lord?”
“Haha, hahaha. No—it’s just funny.”
“What is it that pleases you so….”
“Think carefully. The method that mage suggested. Isn’t it a scheme that makes you think of a certain ‘somewhere’?”
“‘Somewhere’…?”
“There’s one place, isn’t there. The most snake-like and insidious of them. Still don’t get it?”
“…?”
“Deculan. Deculan.”
“…Ah.”
Only then did Zike understand Sion’s meaning and let out a soft sigh.
Hearing it now, the Young Lord was right.
That scheme—using circumstances, trends, and justification however it suited them—was exactly like Deculan’s own.
That was why Sion burst into laughter.
“Think about it. Deculan getting dealt with in Deculan’s own way.”
“…Ah.”
“Isn’t that alone entertaining? Think about it. With Deculan’s temperament, even if they find no clear suspicion, would they just let it go?”
“…They would purge every doubtful part.”
“Right. Even just shaking them has meaning. It’s a fight where that alone matters.”
Deculan, caught in their own method, carving their own flesh away.
With that sight so clear, how could laughter not come out?
And so Sion threw his head back and laughed for a long time—a loud laugh that spread widely across all of Mount Flique.
‘Well, that’s only if Deculan truly is behind Impyr’s downfall, but….’
If that mage’s words were true, it would be a truly entertaining sight.
After pouring out that round of laughter—
“First, confirm the place written on this note.”
Sion handed Zike the note received from Aster.
<Kuhullon Territory, Rizen Forge, underground warehouse.>
- Even the forge owner does not know of the underground warehouse’s existence, so locate it appropriately and secure it.
The place where the magic armor Kalium was hidden.
“How long will it take?”
“As it happens, knights from the main house have been dispatched to Kuhullon.”
“If you hurry, you can find out even before sunrise?”
“Yes.”
“Then do so. Once confirmation is complete, prepare to transfer the Infinite Chain. The Impyr matter needs confirmation, but even magic armor Kalium alone is sufficient as the price for the Infinite Chain.”
“…Yes. Understood.”
“Then, what do we do about the deal with Deculan….”
With little time left before the scheduled deal.
In a situation like this, breaking the deal was the expected sequence.
But if they hastily mentioned delaying or canceling, would those Deculan bastards quietly say, “Very well”?
No—they’d surely dig around to find what was going on.
‘First… I need to discuss this with Father.’
“Good. Then let’s stand.”
Having organized his thoughts, Sion rose from his seat.
The campfire had already begun to die down.
But unlike the weakly wavering flames, Sion’s eyes burned brighter than ever.
‘We open the first move… yes, with the Eighth Elder.’
The justification would be quite plausible.
The execution of a traitor who colluded with Deculan and brought about Impyr’s downfall.
That’s how it would be packaged. No—there was no packaging. It was something that truly happened, and even if it didn’t, it would be made to be so.
But the cold light in his eyes lasted only a moment.
Sion soon flinched and froze in place. Around then, Zike’s question came.
“Aren’t you going?”
“Well… I want to get some more air.”
“…?”
“Go in first. I’ll go in on my own.”
Come to think of it, he was under confinement. He couldn’t enter through the main gate together with Zike.
But he also couldn’t open the secret passage right in front of Zike, either.
“…Young Lord?”
Under Zike’s narrowed gaze, Sion cleared his throat.
A thoroughly awkward situation.
Meanwhile, back at the inn, Aster had fallen into a thoroughly awkward situation.
“You treacherous little bastard.”
“……”
Shine, eyes bloodshot red. Sharp enough to cut.
“You treacherous little bastard. Have your ears rotted off?”
That icy, razor-edged pressure was enough that even Parun—who had nothing to feel guilty about—quietly turned his gaze away, and Aster slowly closed his eyes.
“My ears haven’t rotted off. Ears aren’t food.”
“Then is that mouth of yours sealed shut?”
“…No. That’s not it either. If it were sealed, we wouldn’t be talking like this.”
“Then you must have lost your mind.”
“……”
Even Aster, who had been answering each line neatly, couldn’t answer that one.
Instead, with a voice that slipped down and shrank, he muttered,
“…If I say I really just forgot, will you believe me?”
“Forgot? You? You forgot something? You—persistent, petty, cowardly—you can forget something too?”
There was.
Because being persistent, petty, and cowardly means you remember grudges well, but you don’t remember favors.
But Aster couldn’t bring himself to say that out loud.
Because in a way, what Aster forgot this time was also a favor received from Shine—forgetting it was the same as forgetting the price owed.
So what did Aster forget?
“…The Sword God’s Tomb! Didn’t I tell you again and again! My purpose is the Sword God’s Tomb!”
Yes. The Sword God’s Tomb.
The only reason and purpose Shine joined this trip to Lortel!
Until the very moment the conversation with the Young Lord ended, Aster had completely forgotten that fact.
So with ten mouths, could Aster possibly have anything to say?
If he did, he wouldn’t be human.
Aster kept his mouth shut, then opened it.
“But you didn’t really do anythi—”
“What, you f*cking bastard?”
“…No. I’m sorry.”
Today, even with a mouth, there was nothing to say.
