Indra Translations
Navigation
A Mercenary’s Rebirth Among Nobles Chapter 94

Chapter 94

The‍‌‌ sun set, and⁠​‌ when the first‍​‍ day of the‌ banquet ended, the‌⁠‍ guests headed to‌​‌ the rooms they‌​‍ had been assigned.​​

Rooms​‌‍ in the White⁠ Palace that hadn’t⁠‍​ been used in‍‌ nearly a thousand⁠ years.

It⁠‍​ wouldn’t have been‌⁠ strange if, out‍‍ of curiosity, they⁠​ had begun inspecting⁠‌ them from top⁠​⁠ to bottom—but not‌ a single one​‌⁠ remained quietly inside​ their room.

Baron‌⁠​ Elvin, whose territory‍‍‌ was relatively close​⁠‌ to Asagrim, was‍‍ one of them.⁠‍‌

‘What​‍​ a headache.’

Elvin​​‌ pressed his throbbing​‍ temples hard as⁠ he sank into​ thought.

He​‌​ was already over⁠​ forty and had⁠‌‌ never dreamed of⁠ great ambitions, nor‌‌⁠ had he devoted​ his life to​⁠‌ absolute loyalty.

If‍ this ambiguous peace‍‍ could be maintained,​​‌ that was good​​ enough for him.​​⁠

‘And​ now they expect​‍‌ me to choose‌ between the imperial​⁠ family and Calix.’‌‍⁠

A sigh escaped him‌⁠ involuntarily. In practice,‌‍ it was a choice without a right answer. No​‌ matter what he⁠ chose, it was‌​ clear he would‍⁠ end up entangled‌ in a war.⁠​

“Out​ for a walk‍‍ too?”

At⁠ that moment, a voice from behind‌ interrupted his thoughts.⁠‌ It was Baron⁠⁠ Stellan, lord of‌‌ a neighboring territory‍ and a longtime‍​‍ friend.

“I⁠‍​ can’t sleep. Looks⁠⁠ like it’s the‌ same for you.”‌​‍

“After​‌ hearing all that,⁠‍⁠ how am I supposed to sleep?”⁠‌​

At⁠‍​ Stellan’s words, Elvin​‍‍ gave a bitter‌​ smile.

Perhaps​ because they had‍​ known each other‍‌ for so long,⁠‍‌ his words were‌‍ honest, without a trace of pretense.​

“Friend,‍‍ you can’t say⁠‍ just anything in‌‍ the duke’s territory.‍ There are many‌‌ ears listening—you should​‌‌ be careful.”

“I‍​ doubt it matters.‍⁠ Not just us—look‍‌⁠ around, everyone’s busy‍⁠ whispering.”

When⁠ Elvin looked in‌ the direction Stellan‌⁠ pointed, he saw⁠‌ shadows here and‍​ there, murmuring in​​ small groups. Some‌‍ were gathered with​ close acquaintances, others​‌‌ with members of​‌ their own faction—all‍‍‌ deep in conversation.⁠

He​ couldn’t hear exactly​⁠ what they were​⁠‌ saying, but he​⁠⁠ didn’t need to.​⁠ It was obvious‍‌‌ what they were‍‌⁠ discussing.

“Looks⁠ like they’re just‌⁠​ as worried as‍​ we are.”

“Of‌ course. One wrong‌⁠ move, and their‌ territories could get​‌‌ dragged into war.‍ Have you decided⁠⁠ yet?”

“Not​​‌ yet. To be⁠​ honest, I don’t‍‌⁠ want to decide.”‌​

“You‍ know better than⁠⁠⁠ anyone that’s the​ dumbest decision.”

“I⁠ have no argument​ against that.”

Hearing​‌​ that blunt truth,​ Elvin let out⁠ a long sigh.⁠​⁠

Neutrality,⁠ in the end,⁠ was just a gray stance—someone ready​ to switch sides‍‍‌ at any time.‌

That’s‌‍‌ why neutrals were‍‍ often seen as⁠‌⁠ unpredictable, sometimes even‍‍‌ more dangerous than​ declared enemies.

And⁠‌ if they had⁠ no real power,‍‌​ they could be‍‍ treated like common‌ enemies and eliminated‍​​ first.

“Even‌‍⁠ so, I’m afraid​⁠‌ of deciding too​ soon and it⁠‌ all going wrong.​​‍ I could end‍ up as a human shield for​‌ whichever faction I joined.”

“And‌ watching what others‍ do while you​‍‌ wait, right? If​⁠ everyone hesitates together,‍⁠​ no one gets‍ blamed.”

“You⁠‌ always have a way of saying​ exactly what people‍‌‌ don’t want to‍⁠ hear.”

“I‍‌ say it because‍ I feel the‌​‌ same way. It’s⁠​‍ pathetic, but I can’t make up‍​‌ my mind either.”⁠‌‍

Both‌​ fell silent at‌⁠ the same time⁠‍⁠ and looked up‌ at the sky.⁠ No matter how⁠ they looked at​ it, every option⁠​ required sacrifice.

Whatever​ they chose, they‌ would lose something.⁠

Just​ then, someone stepped‌‌‍ between them.

“What‍⁠⁠ nonsense are you⁠⁠⁠ talking about? The​‍‌ answer’s obvious, and‌ you’re still hesitating?”​

The‌ two, who had‌‌ been speaking softly,⁠ felt their hearts‌​ drop to the​ floor.

The‍‌⁠ one who had​​ interrupted them was‌ none other than‌‌ Lucian.

“D-duke,⁠ it’s an honor⁠‌‍ to gree—”

“Enough.‌ Continue your conversation.”‌‍​

“……”‍​

Elvin‌ and Stellan both⁠​ closed their mouths​‍ at once.

How‌ could they talk‍‌‍ about which side‌‍‍ to choose in⁠ front of the‍ very person involved?​​‍

As‌‌ the silence dragged​ on, Lucian gave‍‌‌ a faint smile​‌ and whispered.

“Your​ dilemma seems deep.‌‌ If you wish,​ I can give‍​ you the answer.‍​ Side with whoever‍‌​ wins between Calix​⁠⁠ and me.”

“…?”‍​

“If‍ it’s hard to‍ decide now, waiting‌‍⁠ until it’s clear‍‍​ is also an⁠‍‍ option, don’t you​‍⁠ think?”

They⁠⁠‌ didn’t know if‌ he was joking‌ or serious, and​‌ confusion overtook them​​‌ both.

It​ wouldn’t have been‌‍ strange if he‍‌⁠ had pressured them⁠​‍ to support him‌​​ immediately, but instead​‍ he was openly‌⁠ telling them to​‍‍ watch and wait.⁠‌

“To⁠ be honest, excessive​​ support doesn’t appeal⁠ to me either.‌⁠‍ If someone takes‍ the risk and⁠ supports me early,‌‍‍ I’ll have to‌⁠ reward them accordingly.‍​⁠ But the more‌ who just sit⁠‌‍ and observe, the⁠​ more I get⁠​‌ to boast later.”‍​

“H-ha…⁠ What a curious​‍​ joke.”

“It’s​‍‌ not a joke.⁠ After all, if‌‌‌ the emperor opens⁠‍ just one gate,‍​ the Calix family‌‍​ can be swept‍⁠‍ away in an‌⁠‍ instant. Why would‍‌ I bother gathering‍⁠⁠ support? It’s better‍‌ to leave you⁠⁠‍ alone and treat​‌‌ you like opportunistic​‍ bats later.”

“…”⁠⁠‍

At⁠​​ the word “gate,”‍‌ both froze.

It​‍ was impossible not‌‌‍ to remember that‍‍ spell that had​ left everyone stunned—the‌ mass transfer of‌​ troops and supplies⁠ through magic.

Such⁠ an extraordinary spell​‌‌ surely couldn’t be​‍‌ used freely in​‌ war.

But⁠⁠‌ if it were​​‍ used just once,​⁠ targeting the heart⁠ of a specific⁠ family—

‘Even​‌ a great house‌ prepared thoroughly for⁠​ war could be‍‍ wiped out in​ a single day.’‍

That‍‌​ thought sent chills​ down their spines.‍⁠

Any‍‍‍ faction crumbles when‍ it loses its‌ core.

If⁠‌⁠ House Calix disappeared,‍​ its allies would​‌⁠ fragment and scatter‌​‍ helplessly.

Lucian‍ would then become‍ the sole victor​​⁠ of the North,​‌ and there would‌ be no choices‌ left to make.‌

“If​‍ you’re not expecting⁠​​ rewards, choose the​ safe path. But‍⁠‍ whatever you decide,‌ maintaining the status​ quo won’t be‍‍ possible.”

“…”⁠⁠‍

While‌​ the two remained⁠ silent, Lucian turned⁠ and walked away.⁠‍‍

He‍‍​ could feel countless⁠ eyes on his​​⁠ back—so many that​‌‍ his skin burned—but‍ that attention was​‍⁠ exactly what he‌‌ wanted.

The‌‍ more eyes on‍‌ him, the further​‌ that conversation would‌ spread.

‘I⁠‍ never expected them​‍​ to become my‌⁠ allies from just‌‍ a warning like⁠ that.’

The⁠​​ important thing was‍ to make them⁠ remember once again​‌​ how terrifying the‌‌‍ dimensional portal magic‍​‍ could be.

Of‍ course, not even‍‌ Lucian himself knew‍⁠ its exact limitations.‍ Neither the emperor​⁠ nor Glenn had‌‍ revealed them to⁠​‌ him.

The‌‌ only thing certain​⁠‍ was that someone⁠ had to be​⁠ prepared in advance‍‌⁠ on the other⁠‍⁠ side of the‍ portal.

‘Maybe​ it can only⁠ be used once​‌‍ every few months.​ Or perhaps it‌⁠‍ requires prep work⁠ on the other⁠ side—or enormous costs⁠‍ each time.’

But‌​ no matter what⁠‌ its weaknesses were,⁠ using it just‍‍‍ once more would⁠​⁠ be enough.

The⁠​ moment anyone imagined‌ that their own‍ territory could be⁠⁠‍ the next target,⁠‌ they would be⁠⁠ paralyzed.

As‌‌ long as anyone​‍⁠ could be the​‍ first target, no​ one would dare⁠​ support Calix decisively.‌⁠

Even‍‍‌ if they later​⁠ mustered the courage,⁠‍ they wouldn’t dare‌​ attempt anything during⁠​ the Hundred-Day Hunt.⁠

“It​‍​ will be a fair competition.”

With‍ a satisfied smile,​‍ Lucian walked through​ the corridors of​‍​ the White Palace.⁠

If​​‌ he found others​‍​ having similar conversations,‍‍‌ he would have‌ to tell them​ the same thing.‌

***⁠‍

Two‌‌ days later, Lucian⁠⁠⁠ led the lords‌ to the snowy‍ mountain range behind‌‌‌ Asagrim.

Since‍ Asagrim was considered‍​ sacred ground, that⁠ mountain was also‍⁠ revered as a holy mountain, called‍‌⁠ “Bangnil.” The goal,​‍​ of course, was‌⁠ to carry out‍‌‍ the promised Hundred-Day⁠ Hunt.

Although‍⁠ it was an​‌ event that revived⁠ an old tradition,‍ no one was​⁠⁠ truly pleased about‌ it.

‘Is⁠⁠‌ this really okay?⁠⁠​ Is it seriously⁠ going to end⁠​ without incident?’

‘I’m⁠‍ so nervous I could go insane.‍‌​ They’re not going‌‌ to stab us‍⁠​ in the back,‍⁠ right?’

The‌⁠‌ participants belonged to​​⁠ two factions that⁠⁠⁠ could never coexist.​​⁠ It was unsettling​‌ enough to leave‌‌ them alone anywhere—and​⁠ now they were‍ going into a snowy mountain range⁠⁠⁠ that no one‍​ else could access.‍

To‍‍ make things worse,​ they would be​‍‍ spending no less‍⁠ than fifteen days⁠‍⁠ in the same​‌​ place.

Even⁠⁠‌ if someone had⁠​⁠ accepted without thinking,​‌‍ it was more⁠⁠ than enough time‍⁠‌ to plan a side assassination.

However,‍ those involved seemed⁠‌ completely calm.

“Ahem.‍ Then, we shall‌‍​ begin the Hundred-Day​‌​ Hunt.”

Baron‍ Elvin, who had‍⁠‍ ended up becoming‍ the judge just​⁠ because of a brief conversation the‍ previous night, explained⁠ the rules.

For‍ fifteen days, they​⁠‍ had to survive​ in the snowy⁠‌ mountains by hunting‍​‍ alone, and the​ winner would be⁠ declared based on‍‍ who brought back​⁠​ the most valuable‍​ game.

However,⁠‌‍ if anyone died⁠⁠ during the process,‍ regardless of their⁠​ haul’s worth, it⁠​ would be considered⁠‌​ an automatic failure.‍ Simple rules.

“Lastly,​​‍ we’ll inspect your‍ belongings. Carrying food‍‍​ is absolutely forbidden.”‌​

“Check​ everything you want.”​​

“I⁠ didn’t even bring⁠ a single piece⁠ of dried meat.”​​

Lucian‌‍⁠ and Godfrey, Norvek’s‍‍‌ eldest son, answered⁠ almost at the‌ same time.

As​⁠​ Elvin conducted a light inspection, he⁠‍‍ noticed something odd.⁠

‘What’s⁠‌ this? A tattoo?’‍

All‍ the participants from‌⁠ Count Calix’s house‌​‌ had a lightning-shaped‌​​ tattoo engraved on​​​ the palms of‍‍ their hands.

It‍​‌ glowed faintly, suggesting​⁠‍ it had been​ done with a special kind of‌​ ink.

‘I‌​⁠ don’t recall Calix‍‍‌ having a tradition‍ of tattoos like‍ this.’

Elvin​‍‌ felt slightly uneasy,⁠ but decided to‌​‌ let it go.‌‌ After all, as​ just a baron,‍​ pointing something like⁠⁠‍ that out to⁠ Calix would only‌‌‌ earn him their⁠ wrath.

Besides‌‌ those unfamiliar tattoos,‌​​ there was nothing⁠‍ particularly suspicious.

“All​‍ right. Then, both‌‌⁠ of you may‌⁠‍ go. We’ll meet⁠⁠ again in fifteen‍ days.”

With‌⁠​ the signal marking⁠⁠ the start of⁠ the Hundred-Day Hunt,⁠​ Lucian and Godfrey‍ dispersed in opposite‌⁠ directions.

It‌​ was only natural—to‍‌‌ avoid overlapping hunting​ areas.

But‍ as soon as​ eyes turned away​ from them, Godfrey’s‍‌‍ eyes gleamed coldly.‍⁠

“No⁠​​ one’s watching?”

“At‍‍​ least not where‍ they can see.”⁠‌‌

“Good.‌‌ From now on,‌​ we’ll pursue him.‍ And mage—don’t forget,‌ your role is​​ the most important.”​

At‍ Godfrey’s sharp gaze,​ Colin nodded.

“Don’t‍‍‍ worry. Preparations are⁠‌⁠ already complete. I’ll‍‌⁠ just need you‌ to buy me⁠​‍ a little time.”‌‍‍

“I‌​ know. You said⁠​ your magic takes‌‍ quite a while​‍ to activate.”

“That’s‍‌​ right. Also, once‍‌​ the target’s position​‍​ is fixed, it‍‍ can’t be changed.‍⁠‍ If he suspects‍​‌ and moves beforehand,⁠ the lightning will​ strike an empty‍‌ spot.”

“Buying‌⁠ time isn’t a problem, but are‌‍ you sure we‌‌‌ won’t get caught⁠ in it too?”⁠

Godfrey⁠ had never seen​ it with his‌ own eyes, but​‌ he’d heard that‍ Colin’s magic summoned⁠ real lightning.

If​ it could completely‍​ burn down a small hill, the​ range had to‌‌ be considerable.

If‌⁠‌ they were close⁠ enough to speak‍​ with the target,⁠⁠ there was a high chance their‌⁠​ own group could​ be hit as​‌ well.

“Don’t‌‍ worry. Didn’t I give you all‍ a mark?”

“You‍ really think this‍ little tattoo will‍ let us dodge⁠ a lightning strike?”​

“More‍‍ precisely, the lightning‌​⁠ disperses around it‌‍‍ and doesn’t come​ close. It’s a technique that could‍​ be called the⁠​​ essence of my‌‌ magic.”

Colin‌ spoke with a smile full of⁠‌⁠ confidence.

“At⁠‌ the School of⁠​ Celestial Astrology, we⁠‍​ call it a lightning rod.”

“A⁠​ needle that avoids⁠‌ lightning? Sounds convincing.⁠⁠‌ Though calling it‌ a needle when‌​ it’s a tattoo‌‌​ is a bit⁠​​ odd, isn’t it?”‌⁠

“It’s​​⁠ because originally it‍ was crafted as‌‍ an actual needle.​ With the development⁠ of magic, it‍‍ could be replaced​ by tattoos.”

It​ wasn’t some improvised‌⁠⁠ trick, but a secret passed down‍ through generations.

Hearing‍‍​ that, Godfrey and‍ the others finally​ relaxed. If it⁠⁠​ was a hereditary​ secret art, its‌‌ level of refinement‍ had to be​​‍ high.

“Then,⁠​ as long as⁠‌‍ we have this‌‌ lightning rod, we’re‍‌ safe, right?”

“Yes.‍‌‍ As its name‌​ implies, it’ll protect‌ you from lightning.⁠ If you maintain​‍ a distance of‍​ ten steps, lightning​ will never hit⁠ you.”

“Great,​ I’ll trust your‍ words. Everyone, make⁠ sure this lightning‌​ rod doesn’t wear‌ off! It’s our‍ lifeline!”

“Yes!”‌‌

With​​‌ that confirmation, Godfrey​ led his group‌ and began to‌‍‌ pursue Lucian—unaware of‍ Colin’s face behind‍​⁠ them, barely suppressing‌⁠ a grin.

What did you think of this chapter?
0 reactions

0 Comments


There are no comments yet. Be the first!

Reader Settings
Page mode
Timer
Text Indent
Auto scroll
Tap to read
Pin menu
Translate page
Select language to automatically translate chapter content.
Audio & AI Voice
This chapter has pre-loaded audio
Ads Blocker Image Powered by Code Help Pro

Ads Blocker Detected!!!

We have detected that you are using extensions to block ads. Please support us by disabling these ads blocker.