Chapter 153. The Bastard and the Subject
The central plaza of Baidun Village.
It was lunchtime, normally the busiest time of day, yet only two people occupied the wide open space.
A massive magician and a small, aging knight.
The two sat side by side before the fountain, basking in the sunlight and gazing straight ahead. It was a peaceful sight, as if captured in a painting. The vast blue sky, the pure white clouds, the gentle warmth of the sun, and the breeze that tickled their hair.
A perfect day for an afternoon nap.
However…That peace didn’t last long.
“So, old man. Did I hear you correctly?”
“How you heard it is the first thing to ask, isn’t it? I’m not a mind reader, after all.”
“…”
The burly magician, Hollend, fell silent for a moment. Then, with bloodshot eyes fixed forward, he spoke.
“Lorutel intends to raise a rebellion against Dekulan. That’s how I understood it.”
That was when Hamellan burst into laughter.
“Ha-ha, rebellion! Rebellion, you say… Well, let’s set aside the word choice for now. You do have quite the talent for making things sound bigger than they are, don’t you? How do you even get to that conclusion?”
Hamellan’s lips curved upward in genuine amusement.
His laughter ceased only when a stray dog trotted up to him.
As Hamellan’s hand reached out to stroke its fur, the yellowish dog wagged its tail and quietly melted into his touch.
Lifting the small dog into his arms, Hamellan petted its soft fur as he continued.
“Listen, we merely had no choice but to terminate a deal. How in the world does that become ‘rebellion against Dekulan’? Because we broke a promise? Nonsense.”
“So, you’ll side with the Tower and the Sword Garden in the end? With those nameless fools?”
“Oh, honestly, that’s not what I’m saying at all! Young man, you’re far too stiff-headed. Look here, the fact that the main family handed the Infinite Chain to the Tower and the Sword Garden is indeed regrettable. But what can be done? It was the lord’s decision. And that’s it. The contract was terminated, nothing more, nothing less.”
“…”
“And you’d better abandon any funny ideas about using this as an excuse to act recklessly against the Tower and the Sword Garden. If you do, then the situation you’re wishing for will truly come.”
Hollend gave no reply.
He merely stared ahead in silence.
The scenery before him was peaceful, yet through his bloodshot eyes it looked like a blazing inferno of chaos. And his inner world wasn’t much different.
He was tasting hell just by suppressing the murderous urge boiling up within him.
By contrast, Hamellan looked perfectly serene. He simply watched the stray dog wiggle in his arms with a warm gaze.
“Tell me, did you know this?”
“…”
While stroking the dog, Hamellan looked off into the distance.
At the end of a nearby alley stood a boy, perhaps ten years old, peeking out timidly with only his head visible.
He was probably the dog’s owner.
Returning his gaze to the animal, Hamellan tickled it lightly, and after a brief pause, his lips parted again.
“They say dogs resemble their owners. That boy must be a sweet one, mischievous just enough, obedient just enough. If I’d ever married, I suppose I’d have a grandson about his age by now.”
“So that’s why… the old man’s forgotten his place?”
“This body, indeed, knows not its place. A man of my standing shouldn’t have to share a bench with the likes of you. But what I’m really saying is this, about a certain mad dog raised by Dekulan.”
“…”
“Perhaps it’s because he’s insane, but he really doesn’t know his place. Running that filthy mouth of his, daring to utter ‘Lorutel’ with his tongue. And tell me… since when does a mangy mutt bark without its master’s permission? Hm?”
“…I assume you’re referring to me?”
“Dim-witted too, I see. A dog always takes after its master, after all.”
Having said that, Hamellan lowered the dog to the ground.
Panting softly, the little dog wagged its tail, then scampered off toward the alleyway.
But interestingly, it didn’t run to the boy, perhaps it wasn’t his after all.
“No sense in worrying about someone else’s dog, but don’t presume to speak for the main house’s intentions. If you’re a dog, then behave like one. Obey what your master tells you to do.”
That was a warning.
Stop spouting nonsense and simply go back to report the facts as they are.
The words were insulting beyond measure, yet Hollend didn’t react.
He just sat there, staring ahead.
Then Hamellan’s voice slid into his ears.
“You’ll deliver two messages. Lorutel was forced to terminate the contract. The involved parties are the Tower and the Sword Garden, and they are now Lorutel’s allies. That’s all. If you plan to say anything more than that, then tell me now. Even if you are another man’s mutt, I can still give you a proper beating.”
After saying that, Hamellan brushed the dust from his robe and stood up. He glanced at Hollend briefly.
“Do you need proof that the main house doesn’t consider Dekulan an enemy?”
Hollend’s bloodshot eyes rose to meet him.
Hamellan met those demonic eyes and smiled faintly.
“If you need proof, go to your master and show him your neck. And say this—”
“Here, this head of mine is Lorutel’s token of friendship.”
“How’s that? Captain of the Ruby Corps. Sending your head intact would make quite a fine symbol of goodwill, don’t you think?”
No answer.
But Hamellan hadn’t expected one anyway.
He simply smiled faintly at Hollend, then turned his face to the bright sky and yawned wide.
After a long, lazy stretch, Hamellan began walking away.
“If you’ve understood, then I’ll take my leave. Unlike you, I’m a busy man.”
And with that, Hamellan walked out of the plaza.
Even after his figure vanished from sight, Hollend didn’t move.
He just kept staring forward with those bloodshot eyes.
He repeated the names again and again, in his mind.
Lorutel.
And then…
‘The Tower. The Sword Garden. The Tower. The Sword Garden. The Tower. The Sword Garden. The Tower. The Sword Garden. The Tower. The Sword Garden. The Tower. The Sword Garden. The Tower. The Sword Garden. The Tower. The Sword Garden. The Tower. The Sword Garden. The Tower. The Sword Garden. The Tower. The Sword Garden. …’
The vermin who had dared to defy Dekulan.
How much time passed, he didn’t know.
Eventually, Hollend rose to his feet and began walking away. At that same moment, a crow that had been keeping its distance, avoiding Hamellan’s presence, returned.
“Hollend, what happened?”
“Report to the Lord.”
“…?”
“The deal is off. Lorutel has handed the Infinite Chain to the Tower and the Sword Garden. And they’ve declared to protect them.”
“What are you saying…?”
The crow faltered, stunned by the blunt statement, but Hollend didn’t let him speak further.
“One last thing.”
“…?”
“Tell him this, I will assume the seat I’ve long postponed.”
With those words, Hollend left the plaza.
The crow didn’t fully understand, but he knew what that meant.
The seat Hollend had postponedwas none other than the Throne of the Seven Mages.
A position of immense authority, rivaling that of the Archmage himself. A seat surrounded by politics, insects, and scheming fools.
He’d put it off because he’d always found it tedious. But now…
‘I’ll burn them alive. Every last one of them.’
To repay this humiliation, he had to become the player himself.
Not a chess piece, but the hand that moved the pieces.
Reciting the location of the nearest of the Seven Mages, Hollend began to move.
To claim the throne.
* * *
Once Hollend had gone.
On the rooftop of a building overlooking the plaza…
Hamellan watched until the crow had also departed, then took a communication crystal from his robes.
“Lord, this is the First Sword.”
[Speak.]
“As expected. Hollend didn’t come alone. A crow of Dekulan was with him.”
[…]
Muhad said nothing.
That silence meant: continue.
Sensing it, Hamellan calmly gave his report.
When it was finished, the Lord finally spoke.
[What did you think of him?]
“You mean the Captain of the Ruby Corps?”
[Yes.]
“He is… not an easy one, my lord.”
Though he had just insulted the man to his face, calling him a dog, a bastard, Hamellan did not truly look down on him.
It wasn’t about rank or title. It was about the man himself.
[In more detail.]
“As you may have noticed from the timing of this call, I, ah… delayed the appointment by three days. I will gladly accept punishment for that…”
[A test, was it? That bad habit of yours again.]
“My apologies. Still, as they say, temper was boiling, venom at the brim… yet it stopped there. He never released a drop of killing intent. He just held it in. Ah, that gaze… my lord, you would have to see it yourself to understand.”
Had he revealed his intent to kill, Hamellan wouldn’t have thought twice.
Had he hidden it behind a smile, same thing.
But Hollend did neither.
He was consumed with rage, chest heaving with murderous intent, yet he let not even a sliver of it leak out.
That composure…
“Yes. Like a well-trained warhound. One that can suppress even its instincts. I tried provoking him several times, but he didn’t so much as twitch.”
[Do you regret it?]
At Muhad’s question, Hamellan replied without hesitation.
“Of course. He’s likely on par with the Seven Mages themselves… When does one ever get such a chance to take that head? Eh, for such a man to still be merely a captain, it’s a waste.”
[And you held back too.]
“Must be old age, my lord… I could’ve taken Hollend alone, perhaps, but not with that crow lurking nearby.”
[Better cautious than foolish.]
“Thank you.”
Hamellan smiled lightly and looked up at the sky. That was when his lord’s next question came.
[Compared to the Master of the Tower, what do you think?]
“…Hollend, you mean?”
[Answer freely.]
“…Hmm.”
Hamellan paused to choose his words.
The comparison wasn’t hard, but the intent behind the question was unclear.
Still, he soon gave his honest answer. Whatever the lord intended, he would simply respond to the question itself.
“If we compare the Master of the Tower to Hollend…”
The answer was simple.
“In a head-on fight, he’d die ninety out of a hundred times.”
[And the other ten?]
“He’d barely survive, fleeing by the skin of his teeth.”
A harsh judgment.
But an accurate one.
‘The Tower’s Master may have reached transcendence as well…’
Still, what Hamellan saw in Hollend was the refined transcendence of one who had truly mastered it.
He couldn’t gauge the exact depth of his power, but instinct told him, Hollend surpassed even the Master of the Tower.
Of course, that didn’t mean the Tower’s Master had no chance.
If he used that dreadful spell…the one he’d once shown Hamellan, at just the right moment, perhaps Hollend could be slain.
But even that would be slim odds.
For Hollend wasn’t some common mage. He was a battle mage of Dekulan’s Magic Corps, honed through a hundred real wars.
Then, unexpectedly…
[…Hmm. Truly that strong?]
“Yes, my lord.”
[Quite a generous estimate.]
“Do you think so? Perhaps. Then let me phrase it differently. Under equal conditions, I’d still wager on the Tower’s Master every time.”
[…]
Muhad fell silent.
Not because he doubted Hamellan, he trusted his First Sword’s eyes as much as his own.
That judgment rarely failed him.
So…
[In that case, it seems we can afford to give him a bit more strength.]
“…Sir?”
[Take a rest for now.]
“…?”
Hamellan tilted his head.
“Give him more strength” meant granting the Tower’s Master additional support.
But then, why tell him to rest?
The answer came soon enough.
[Take a trip near Dekulan.]
“…”
[Preferably somewhere with a vassal house nearby.]
So that was it.
Not to rest, but to draw attention. Not merely to focus Dekulan’s eyes, but to drag them all in his direction like a hook.
‘…You call that a vacation?’
Hamellan bit back the sigh rising to his throat.
Instead, he made a small, dry jest, half joke, half protest.
“I think I’ll start supporting the Young Lord instead.”
Meaning, the Young Lord’s stance against mages.
After all, it was obvious the Lord’s change of heart was because of the Tower’s Master.
A joke, yet not entirely one.
The successor was already set to be the Young Lord anyway.
However, Lord Muhad was not one for jokes.
[Is that an official statement?]
“…”
[Then I’ll send the Assassination Unit. It’s been a pleasure, Hamellan.]
Suppressing a heavy sigh, Hamellan clenched his jaw and forced out the words.
“…A joke, my lord.”
Muhad replied.
[As was mine.]
…Sure it was.
