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A Cadet Becomes a Prophet?! Chapter 105

Chapter 105

It⁠⁠​ wasn’t really about​ going to find​⁠ it, but rather‍‌​ waiting for it​ to come.

On‌ their way to‍​​ the continental conference,​‍ Aint and Aria‍​​ set up camp‌​​ on the plateau,‌ and soon received‍⁠ a visit from​​ a mutant drake‍⁠‌ drawn by the​⁠‍ firelight.

Too​‌⁠ old and weakened,⁠ the mutant drake,‌​ overcome by hunger,​ charged in desperation.​‌ But unfortunately, that‌‍‍ bravery only led‌ it to its​⁠ grave.

‘It’s​‍ as if all⁠ the luck in⁠​​ the world is‍‍‌ concentrated in Aint.’⁠‌

It⁠‍‍ wasn’t a coincidence⁠‌​ that he was‍ the protagonist in​ the book of‍ prophecies.

However,‍‍ according to Fernan’s‍‌‍ estimates, that wouldn’t⁠ happen again now.⁠ The mutant drake‍‌⁠ had already been‌⁠‍ stripped of its⁠‌​ core by Gismond‌ Ert; it couldn’t​ still be alive.​‍

So​⁠‍ the time had​‍ come to check‍ for themselves—whether the‍⁠ mutant drake’s nest‍ existed, whether the⁠⁠​ creature had really‍ been there, whether‍‌ its corpse remained,‍ and above all,​⁠ whether it still‍⁠‌ had its core.‍⁠

Leaving‍ the knights behind‍ to set up‌‍ camp, Fernan ventured​ down the path‌⁠⁠ accompanied by Rosalia‌‌⁠ and Hyde.

“Is‌ it far?”

“Not​‍‌ too much.”

The​ book of prophecies​⁠‌ didn’t mention exact‍ distances, but Aria​⁠ had hunted the​ mutant drake and‍‌​ tracked its lair⁠‍ in little time.‍​

The⁠ three continued walking‌‌ through the mountains.⁠⁠​ When the path‌ no longer looked​⁠‍ like a proper‍‍ trail, Rosalia followed​⁠ Fernan in silence.‌

“Aren’t‌ you going to⁠‍ ask me what⁠​‍ we’re looking for?”‍

“It’s‌ obvious, isn’t it?”⁠‍

“What‍ do you mean​‍ by obvious?”

“That‍​​ if you’re insisting⁠​ on searching for‍‍ it yourself, it‌‌ must be something‌ worthwhile. And that‌ usually means one⁠‍ of three things—rare‍‍‍ herbs, minerals, or⁠ a valuable monster.”​

Exactly.‍⁠⁠

“As​‍ expected, I can’t‌ fool you, Professor.​‍ And don’t you​​‌ want to know⁠‍ why I asked‌‌‍ you to come‌ with me?”

“I⁠‍​ imagine. It must‌‌‌ be the third‍‌‌ one.”

“And‌⁠​ even knowing that,‌ you agreed to‍‌ come?”

“Right‌‌⁠ now, I’m not​ your professor—I’m your⁠‍‍ sponsored researcher. I can tolerate this‍‌ kind of hassle.”​⁠

Rosalia⁠‌⁠ said it calmly.​⁠ Their essential relationship⁠​⁠ was student and‌​ teacher, but in‍‌⁠ this case, they​⁠ were also investor⁠ and researcher.

“So,​​‍ what is it?”​​​

“A⁠‍​ drake.”

“A⁠‍ drake, I see.⁠⁠ Its scales, fangs,​⁠ and bones are‌ quite useful.”

“Unfortunately,⁠ not this one.‍⁠​ It was too​ old. Its scales‌⁠ are worn down,⁠ most of its‍‌ fangs have fallen‍‍ out, and its​ bones are very⁠​​ brittle.”

“An‍‍⁠ old drake? Does‌ that have any​‌⁠ value?”

“Just‍​ add the word‍ ‘mutant’ in front,‌ and it does.”​‌

Rosalia’s​‍ eyes widened. So​‌ did Hyde’s, who‍​ had been silently‍⁠ following them.

She‍‍⁠ wanted to ask‍​ where Fernan got​‍ that information, but​ held back.

“There‌‍‌ was a mutant‌​ drake here?”

“Yes,​‌ if my information​‌ is correct.”

“A​‌ mutant core is​‍‌ more valuable than⁠ anything. And if‌‌‍ it lived to‌‍‍ old age, its‌‌ core must be⁠‌ very mature.”

“That’s⁠‍​ why I went‌‍ to the trouble‍ of coming all‍ the way here.”⁠

Soon,‍ they reached the​‍ entrance of a huge cave, half-hidden⁠ among the undergrowth.‍‌‌ Cold air and⁠‍​ the stench typical⁠​‍ of monsters wafted‌​⁠ from inside.

There‌ was also a strong smell of⁠ blood.

“…I‍​ don’t sense any‍‌​ life.”

“Me​​ neither.”

Fernan’s‌ lip curled slightly.​

The‌‌ smell was too‍ strong. In a monster’s lair, that‍ stench could mean⁠​ one of two‌⁠ things—it was devouring‍​​ prey, or it​ had been hunted.‌‍

But‍‍ with no signs‍⁠‌ of life, the‌‍‌ first option was⁠⁠ ruled out.

“Let’s⁠‍ go in.”

“Let⁠‌‌ me go first,​ young master.”

Hyde‍‌ took the lead.⁠⁠ Fernan pulled a magic lamp from⁠⁠ his subspace and​⁠‍ handed it to‍⁠ him.

As⁠⁠​ they advanced, the‌⁠ stench grew stronger.​ The dampness of⁠‍‍ the place only‍‌‌ made the feeling‌​ worse.

Eventually,‌‍ they reached the⁠ source of the​ smell—the gigantic corpse⁠​‍ of a drake.⁠⁠

“You​ were wrong, Fernan.​‍‍ It’s not missing​ half its fangs—it​⁠‌ barely has four⁠⁠‌ left.”

The⁠⁠‌ mutant drake was‌⁠ even more deteriorated‌ than expected.

“Someone‍‍ came before us.⁠ It’s already full‌ of worms. Must’ve‌ been dead for‍‌⁠ months.”

On‌‍ its chest, where‌ the core should’ve⁠ been, was a gaping hole. Dried​ blood had crusted‍⁠ dark around the​‌ wound.

“The​ bastard… even dared⁠⁠ to deceive me.”‍‌⁠

There‌ was no way⁠​‍ to know about‍ the mutant drake’s‌ existence without having‌‌‍ seen it first.‍‌

Everything‌‌‌ pointed to someone‍​‍ stealing the core⁠⁠ before informing him.‍

“So⁠​‍ it seems.”

But‌‍ the book of‌⁠ prophecies didn’t lie.‍

The‍‌​ mutant drake had​‍​ existed, and if⁠⁠ no one had‌⁠ gotten ahead, its​ core would have‍ ended up in​‍‍ Aint’s hands.

‘Gismond​‍ Ert.’

Fernan⁠‍ already knew how⁠‌​ to deal with⁠​‌ him after this.⁠​

“What‍ now?”

“Let’s⁠​⁠ check around. Maybe‍‍‌ something’s left in‍‍‍ the nest.”

The⁠‌ cave was deeper‍‌​ than expected, but‍​ they found nothing​ special except a shallow spring.

With​ no other choice,​ they returned to⁠ camp empty-handed.

“I’m​‌ going to rest.”‌​‍

“Not‍‌​ eating?”

“I‌​ ate dried meat​ on the way.”⁠

“Then,‍ rest well.”

The​⁠​ sun had set⁠​ quickly in the⁠‌ mountains, and darkness‌ had taken over​‌‌ the camp. Several‍ fires lit up‌​ the tents.

When‍⁠‍ Rosalia entered hers,​‌​ Fernan called the⁠​​ captain of the‍ Red Turtle Order.​‌

“Sir⁠⁠ Harten. Anything unusual⁠‍ nearby?”

“None,‍⁠ sir.”

“What‍ did my father‍‍ say?”

“That⁠ the corrupt might⁠⁠ covet what you‍ carry. That you​ must protect it.”‍‍

“I​ heard he led​‌ the purge of‌​​ corrupts in the​ domain.”

“The‍​⁠ search was carried‍⁠​ out by the‍‌‍ Black Turtle. We⁠‍ only served as​ the sword.”

Pellenberg​‍ had been the​​‌ first house to​‍ detect and exterminate​ infiltrators. With help​ from the Church‌ of the Dragon‌ God, they had‌‌ hunted many.

“And‍‍ in your opinion,‌​​ what were those‍‌​ corrupts doing inside​‌ the family?”

“They⁠​⁠ didn’t seem to⁠‍ be plotting anything⁠‌‌ in particular. More‍⁠ like waiting for‍ the right moment.”‌​​

“The⁠​​ right moment?”

“Something‍‌ like what happened⁠‍‍ in Taklakan. Do‍​⁠ you think ten‌ thousand monsters appeared​‌ overnight? They had⁠‍ been waiting to‌ strike.”

Correct.‌​⁠

“And‍​ my father’s intention?”​​

“I‌ can’t guess it…‍‍ but it’s clear⁠​ he wants to​‌ make money.”

Even‍⁠‌ now, the Golden‍‌ Turtle Company of⁠‍ the Pellenbergs was⁠ profiting from the‍ war business.

If⁠ they did it‌⁠‍ secretly before, after​ Taklakan, they did‌​⁠ it openly.

“That‌ sounds like my⁠⁠ father.”

Harten⁠ moved away to⁠ inspect again. Fernan‌ handed Hyde a piece of roast‌​⁠ meat from the‌​ fire.

“When‌ did you get‌​ this information?”

“While‌‍ you were following‍‍​ Gismond Ert.”

“And​ who was the​​ brazen one that‍​ fooled him?”

“It‍​ doesn’t matter. I already knew we’d⁠‌‌ find this.”

“You⁠⁠ knew and still‌‍‍ came?”

“A‍‌​ hunch is not‌⁠​ the same as‌​​ certainty.”

Fernan’s‌‍ tone made it‌‌ clear he didn’t⁠​‌ want more questions,‌ and Hyde fell​​​ silent.

“Hyde,‍⁠​ do you know‌⁠‌ something? This peace​​ won’t last much⁠‍‍ longer.”

“Peace?⁠ We’re preparing for‍ corrupt attacks.”

“In‍ the future, they‌‍‌ won’t be mere​ attacks. It will​‍‍ be a war.”‍

Anyone​ who thought about‌‍‍ it for a moment could see‌ it.

The​⁠‌ corrupt, after a thousand years of​​‍ silence, were on‍ the move. They⁠‌‌ had shown their​ strength in Taklakan.‍⁠ The continent was⁠ heading toward war.​‍

“As⁠​​ heir, I don’t​‌ have much power‌⁠ to prepare.”

Despite‌ being the great‌​ heir of Pellenberg,‌⁠‍ he was not⁠‍ yet a duke​ or head of​‍ the family. His‍​​ movements couldn’t compare⁠ to those of​ an elector prince.‌

“The⁠⁠ only thing I can do is​ strengthen Aint.”

“Aint‌​ Armian is not‌‌⁠ a dog.”

“Let‍⁠‍ the petty things‌ slide.”

For​ Fernan, who had⁠ received the book‍‍‌ of prophecies, protecting‌​ and helping Aint​​⁠ grow was an​​‍ unavoidable fate.

If‍ Aint fell, he​‌ was doomed as​⁠ well.

“After⁠ this, I plan‌ to hire the​‌ Mercenary King.”

“Really?‌‌ Do you think⁠‍⁠ he’ll accept? You‌‌ yourself said not‌⁠ to draw his​​⁠ attention.”

“He’ll‌⁠ accept. I have​​ an offer he⁠‌‍ won’t be able​ to refuse.”

The‌‌‌ demons.

The​​ Mercenary King had​‍ lost a disciple⁠ to the corrupt,‍​⁠ and he accepted‌ any mission related‍⁠ to them, sweeping‌‍ across the continent.⁠

If⁠‍ offered clues about‌‍ a demon instead⁠​ of a corrupt—or‍ the opportunity to‍‌ face one—he wouldn’t‌ be able to‍ resist.

“It’s⁠‌ like handing fish‌‍ to a cat.”‍⁠

He‌‌​ wouldn’t be able​‍ to hold back.⁠‍‌

‘I​ don’t know how‍⁠‍ much the future​‌ changed with the‌ arrival of demon‍ number 64, Flauros…’⁠​‌

Fernan⁠⁠ recalled the prophecy​⁠ that had disturbed‌‍ him during the⁠​ jousting tournament. In‌ the south of​‍‍ the Kingdom of‌ Frazia, Flauros, demon‍ number 64, would‌‌⁠ descend.

Unlike‍‌ Andromalius (72) or‍‌⁠ Seir (70), who‍‍‍ were to appear‍‍ at the conference,​‍​ Flauros would descend‌⁠​ with a real‌ army of monsters.‌

Though‍‍ the demon hierarchy⁠⁠ wasn’t strictly based‌⁠‌ on strength, that‌‍‌ number made him‌ more cautious.

‘I​‌‌ must prepare everything.⁠​‌ I can’t allow‍ even the slightest‍ crack.’

Even⁠‍​ if he had​ to deceive the⁠​‍ Mercenary King and‌‌ leave him empty-handed,⁠ his fury would‌ be preferable to‌⁠⁠ seeing the continent⁠ devastated by a demon.

‘Still,​​ I need a backup plan just‌ in case.’

With⁠⁠ that in mind,‌⁠ the journey continued‌⁠⁠ quietly.

There‍‍‍ were no ambushes⁠ on the way​‍ to the city.​‌

A deceptive calm prevailed.‍

***​‌

The​⁠​ venue for the‌‍‍ 198th Continental Magic‌⁠ Conference was Valerich.‍⁠

It​⁠⁠ wasn’t the capital⁠⁠⁠ of Vienderk, but‌​‌ it was considered‍ its second or‍​​ even third most​​⁠ important city.

As​‌​ soon as they‍ passed through the‍‍ gates, they saw⁠​ pennants fluttering everywhere‌​ and dazzling decorations.‌‌

Anyone‍⁠​ could tell a festival was underway:⁠​ the atmosphere was‍​ lively, the crowd​ immense, and among‌ the people, the‍‍ mages stood out​ the most.

“How‌​ many of them⁠‌​ do you think‌‌⁠ will actually present⁠​​ real research results?”​

“I’m‍‍ not interested.”

“Wouldn’t​‍ they be your‌ rivals in some⁠‍‍ sense?”

“Just‍ warm-ups. No one‌​⁠ will surpass mine.”​‍‍

That‌​‍ absolute confidence was‍​ very much like⁠​‍ her.

“I’ve‌ completed all the​ registration. All that’s‌⁠‌ left is for‍ you to confirm‍ it in person⁠ and, on the‍‍‍ day of the‍ presentation, deliver your​ work.”

“Let’s‌ go.”

For‍‌​ the 198th Conference,‍​ Valerich had offered​‍‍ none other than‌⁠‍ its own city​‍ hall.

The​ banquet hall of​‌⁠ the building had⁠‌ been transformed into⁠‌ the academic venue,‌ and all registrations⁠ were being handled‌‍ there.

“Welcome⁠‌ to Valerich… Oh,⁠‌‌ miss.”

Upon​⁠ entering, a guard‌ recognized Rosalia.

“Sir⁠‍ Goron.”

“Have‌⁠ you come to​⁠ present your research?”‌​

“Yes.”‍

“And⁠⁠‌ His Excellency…”

“Don’t‍‌⁠ mention him.”

“…Understood.‍​‌ Go ahead. I’m‌ glad to see​⁠‍ you again after‌​ so long.”

Rosalia​‍‍ didn’t reply and​‍ simply walked in.⁠‍⁠

“Who​‌ was that? He‍‍​ didn’t seem like⁠‍ an ordinary guard.”‌

“The‍ sub-commander of the​‌‍ Order of the‌‍ Red Rose.”

“A⁠ man like that‍⁠ doing guard duty‍​‌ here?”

The‌ Order of the​⁠‍ Red Rose was​ one of Vienderk’s‍ five most powerful‍ knightly orders.

“And‌⁠ don’t you use‍‌⁠ your own order​⁠ as mere escorts?”​

“Well,‌ that’s true too.”‍

It‌‌ was all part⁠⁠ of a display.​‍​ With so many⁠‌ nobles and dignitaries‌ present, Vienderk didn’t‍ miss the chance‍ to show off‍‌ its strength.

“Still,‌‍‍ it’s surprising he‍‌‍ recognized her. She’s‍ been away from‌‌⁠ her house for‍‌ quite a while,⁠ right?”

“He‌ was my personal‍​ knight.”

After​‍​ completing registration, Fernan‌⁠⁠ and Rosalia rented‌ an entire wing⁠‌ of a luxurious‍‍ hotel in the‌ city.

“It’s‌⁠⁠ a shame. It’d‍⁠‍ be nice if​⁠​ we could build⁠‍ hotels in the‍‍ domains of other‍‌⁠ electors too.”

Pellenberg‌‌ had luxury hotels​ across the continent,​‍‍ but not in⁠‌ lands of other⁠​ electors.

They‍‌ didn’t allow it—unlike‌⁠ lesser nobles, who,⁠​ pressured by Pellenberg’s‌ influence, grudgingly ceded‌⁠‌ commercial rights.

“They’re​‍ quite ambitious.”

“That⁠‌ ambition is what​⁠​ made the Pellenberg⁠ great.”

They⁠​‍ checked the manarite⁠‍ core. No problems.​‌⁠ With plenty of‍‌‍ time until the​⁠ conference, Fernan suggested,​‌

“We’ve​⁠⁠ arrived ahead of​ schedule. Want to‍ go see the​‍ festival?”

“Not​ interested.”

Rosalia​ retreated to her‍ room. Fernan, on​‍‌ the other hand,‍⁠ called Sir Harten‍‍ to reinforce the‍ security around the⁠‌⁠ core and then‍‌ went out.

“Where⁠ are you going,⁠ young master?”

“Aint​‍ and Aria are​⁠⁠ already here. I’ll​‍⁠ go meet them…”​‍​

Then—‍‍

───!⁠​

Not⁠​​ far away, something​‍ crashed to the​⁠‌ ground with a wet thud.

Blood,⁠​ flesh, and shattered‌​​ bones scattered everywhere.‌⁠

“Kyaaaahhh!”​

“My​ god, what is‍​ this!”

“Up​‍‍ there! It fell​ from the hotel!”‍‍

A corpse.

Fernan‌​‌ looked up. One​‌ of the windows‌⁠ on the tenth⁠⁠‌ floor of the​​‌ hotel where he‌ was staying was​‍ shattered.

“…The​​⁠ Duke of Vienderk⁠ must be seething‍⁠‍ inside.”

Before‍‍⁠ the 198th Continental​ Magic Conference had‌‌‍ even officially begun,‌‍ the stage was​ already stained with‍‌ blood.

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