Chapter 139. Even If I Have a Mouth, Not Today
After all the stories had ended.
The ruined Frik Mountain.
Sion sat in front of an empty campfire, quietly staring at the Frikering flames.
Aster and his companions had long since gone down the mountain.
“…”
After watching the burning fire with blazing eyes for quite some time, Sion suddenly opened his mouth.
“…What do you think?”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“The story about Dekulan’s involvement in the fall of the Impir family.”
“That’s…”
Zeke stopped speaking and gathered his thoughts.
In truth, the fall of the Impir family was still a case clouded in suspicion.
What kind of house was the Impir family?
A family proudly counted among the foremost vassal houses of Lorutel. And yet, such a house had collapsed overnight, so rapidly it could only be called sudden ruin.
The lord’s illness, the young heir’s sudden death. The successive deaths of blood relatives caused the house to lose its center and scatter.
Too cruel a coincidence to be called mere chance.
“There were… several claims of suspicion, though none confirmed. Not about Dekulan specifically, but about the existence of a culprit.”
“Then Dekulan’s name was never mentioned?”
“No, sir. And honestly, without concrete evidence…”
“There would be no change?”
“…Yes.”
Zeke lowered his head apologetically. But Sion seemed to think otherwise.
“Why would there be no evidence? Isn’t there the Eighth Elder?”
“But…! That too is still uncertain.”
“Even if it’s not the Eighth Elder, there are other ways.”
“Don’t tell me…”
Zeke’s voice trembled at Sion’s words. He felt a strange unease creeping up inside him.
“Are you… actually thinking of doing what they said?”
“…And if I am?”
“It could be a ploy to sow discord.”
“Perhaps.”
Sion stopped speaking there.
Crackle! Crack!
The silence sank beside the burning campfire. Against that silence, Sion recalled the earlier conversation.
— “There’s no evidence that Dekulan took part in the fall of Impir. The Eighth Elder? Same story. He wouldn’t have left such information behind, and even if he did, there’s no way to find it.”
That meant there was no justification. And Dekulan was the sort of serpent who twisted ‘justification’ to his own taste.
A careless move could easily lead to disaster. But that mysterious mage had said…
— “For now, announce it publicly. ‘We’ve identified the culprit behind Impir’s downfall.’ But don’t aim at ‘Dekulan’ from the start.”
— “And what meaning would that have?”
— “If it ended as mere words, none. But of course, you’ll need to act too. In other words…”
— “…Show them that “we know it’s you,” while keeping it at a level that’s hard to refute, or something like that?”
He’d even been kind enough to give an example.
— “There are many ways. You could move troops… No, that’s too blatant. Better yet…, How about this?”
— “Send the Ten Swords to ‘take a walk’ in Dekulan’s territory, huh!”
Indeed, it was a clever trick. More direct than deploying troops, but since the Ten Swords were individuals, not an army, it was technically not an act of war.
The perfect balance between suppressing Dekulan’s resistance and exerting pressure.
And there was something else he’d said.
“Just that alone would make Dekulan twitch and act on their own…”
Sion muttered under his breath, and Zeke spoke up just then.
“It’s too flimsy.”
“Flimsy?”
“Yes. Dekulan are meticulous people. For them to be caught by such a shallow test…”
“Is it impossible?”
“Yes, sir.”
At Zeke’s firm response, Sion nodded.
Indeed, that was true.
“Dekulan members are careful, and of course, they would have left no traces of evidence. But, Zeke.”
“Yes, young lord.”
Zeke quietly listened to Sion’s words.
“Didn’t you hear me earlier? Because they’re so careful, they’ll have no choice but to confirm if we make a move.”
“That’s…”
“Besides, we are Lorutel, aren’t we? If Dekulan twists justification like a snake, we’ve always followed it straight and true. But then…”
Sion paused, gathering his thoughts before continuing.
“If we step forward openly, what do you think Dekulan would feel? Could they really stand idly with folded arms? I don’t think so.”
Dekulan would surely be startled.
For Lorutel to move meant they had gathered sufficient justification to do so.
That was… Lorutel.
The name built upon generations of knights.
“Unlike Dekulan, we’ve always followed our honor straightforwardly. So it’s worth trying, isn’t it?”
“…”
Hearing that, Zeke could no longer find words to respond.
Because Sion was right.
Lorutel, the family that, unlike other noble houses, clung to justice and honor with stubborn loyalty.
If Lorutel acted, who in the world would question their step?
‘No, even if the whole world did… Dekulan themselves could not.’
Then how would they react? It wasn’t hard to predict.
‘Knowing Dekulan’s temperament… they’ll first investigate and punish those involved back then.’
Root out the traitors. And if they still failed to find any clear suspect… they’d turn their gaze outward. Perhaps they’d wonder if Lorutel knew something they didn’t.
But still, Zeke had one doubt.
“You intend to find proof while Dekulan wavers, I understand that. But if no proof surfaces…?”
“Then my dignity alone will take a hit. What’s to lose? I’m not even naming Dekulan directly.”
“But still… it isn’t even certain yet that Dekulan was behind Impir’s fall.”
“Of course, I won’t act immediately. We’ll do our own investigation first.”
“Investigation… meaning?”
“There’s still the Eighth Elder, isn’t there?”
Zeke was speechless at the young lord’s offhand remark.
A man of Sion’s stature should bear words of heavier weight. It was far too reckless a statement for one of his position. But Sion hadn’t told Zeke everything.
‘You wouldn’t know, but… fabricating evidence isn’t something only Dekulan can do.’
For all their honor as a knightly family, could such a vast house truly be clean? No.
Dekulan’s infamy merely overshadowed it, every noble house harbored its own filth.
Lorutel, Blando, Deni, Dolanfe, all the same.
The only difference was this, ‘…In Lorutel, all sins are borne by blood.’
They didn’t commit evil in the open, but every choice, every burden, was carried only by the bloodline. That was the responsibility of those born into the most noble lineage of Lorutel.
Even the Ten Swords did not know this truth. Perhaps a few suspected, but not the transcendent warriors like the Third Sword.
‘Once I’ve decided to strike… then I will strike.’
Even if the worst came true, if Dekulan hadn’t been behind Impir’s fall, it didn’t matter. The collusion between Dekulan and the Eighth Elder was already fact. And once decided, Sion would make it connect, one way or another.
And also… Finishing his thought, Sion turned to Zeke, whose mouth hung open in disbelief.
“And I don’t think this is a ploy to sow discord.”
“…?”
Zeke’s eyes showed confusion at Sion’s confident tone.
It was strange.
The young lord, who would normally despise mages, was trusting one this much?
‘Did he see something I didn’t?’
“Curious, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir. Why do you think so?”
“Well. Strangely enough, it’s not because of logic. Just that…”
Sion narrowed his eyes, recalling. His gaze swept over the spot where Aster had sat moments ago.
The look in Aster’s eyes reflected by the firelight, how could he describe it?
“Malice.”
“Pardon?”
“I felt deep malice. Very deep… thick, sticky malice.”
Sion could feel it clearly.
That dense, dark malice in those eyes, and how it was directed straight toward Dekulan. And that gave Sion a conviction more certain than any proof.
‘Though, this is quite something…’
When Sion reached that thought, he suddenly burst into laughter.
“…Young lord?”
“Ha ha, hahahaha. It’s just… amusing.”
“What could be so amusing…?”
“Think about it. The method that mage suggested, it feels like something ‘familiar,’ doesn’t it?”
“‘Familiar,’ you say…?”
“There’s one place that fits perfectly. The most snake-like, the most deceitful. Still don’t know?”
“…?”
“Dekulan, of course. Dekulan.”
“…Ah.”
At that, Zeke finally understood and let out a low sigh.
Now that he thought about it, the young lord was right. A plan manipulating timing, situations, and justification to one’s favor, utterly Dekulan in style.
That was why Sion had laughed.
“Think about it. Dekulan being struck down by Dekulan’s own methods.”
“…Ah.”
“Isn’t that amusing in itself? Just imagine it, Dekulan, unable to find proof, yet unable to sit still.”
“They’ll purge every suspicious element within.”
“Exactly. Even shaking them is a victory in itself.”
They would fall into their own trap, skinning their own flesh by their own schemes.
How could he not laugh at that image?
Thus, Sion tilted his head back and laughed heartily. His booming laughter spread across the whole of Frik Mountain.
‘Of course, that’s only if Dekulan truly was behind Impir’s fall…’
If what that man said was true, it would be quite a delightful sight indeed.
After laughing his fill…
“First, check the location written on this note.”
Sion handed Zeke the note he’d received from Aster.
<Cuhelon Territory, Reason’s Forge, Underground Storage.>
— “Even the forge master doesn’t know about the underground chamber, so find it and secure it yourself.”
The place where the magic armor Kalium was hidden.
“How long will it take?”
“There are knights from the main house currently stationed in Cuhelon.”
“If you hurry, you could confirm before sunrise?”
“Yes.”
“Then do so. Once confirmed, prepare to hand over the Infinite Chain. The Impir matter may need verification, but the magic armor Kalium alone is worth the price.”
“…Yes, sir.”
“Then what about the deal with Dekulan…?”
With the trade date drawing near, breaking it off seemed inevitable. But if they postponed or canceled rashly, would Dekulan quietly accept?
Hardly. They’d pry and dig to find out what was happening.
‘I’ll need to discuss this with Father first.’
“All right, let’s get moving.”
Having organized his thoughts, Sion rose from his seat.
The once-burning campfire was now dying out. But unlike its fading light, Sion’s eyes burned brighter than ever.
‘First target… yes, start with the Eighth Elder.’
The justification would sound noble enough.
The punishment of the traitor who colluded with Dekulan to destroy Impir. That was how it would be framed. No, how it would be made.
But just as that ruthless glint returned to his eyes…
Sion froze. Zeke’s question came then.
“Aren’t you coming, sir?”
“Well… I wanted to get some air first.”
“…?”
“Go on ahead. I’ll return on my own.”
Now that he thought about it, he was under house restriction. He couldn’t walk in through the main gate with Zeke. And he couldn’t very well open the secret passage while Zeke was watching.
“…Young lord?”
Under Zeke’s narrowed gaze, Sion cleared his throat.
He could only feel awkward.
* * *
Meanwhile, back at the inn, Aster found himself in quite a predicament.
“You wretched fiend.”
“…”
Shine’s eyes were bloodshot red. Fierce and sharp.
“You vile creature. Are your ears clogged?”
Her murderous tone was enough to make even the unflinching Parun avert his gaze, while Aster quietly closed his eyes.
“My ears aren’t clogged. Ears aren’t food, after all.”
“Then is your mouth sealed shut?”
“…No, it’s not. I’m talking to you right now, aren’t I?”
“Then you must have lost your mind.”
“…”
Aster, who had been answering back each time, could not reply this time. Instead, in a shrinking voice, he mumbled…
“…Would you believe me if I said I really just forgot?”
“Forgot? You? The meticulous, petty, obsessive you forgot something?”
He had.
As obsessive, petty, and spiteful as he was, Aster remembered grudges well, but not favors.
However, he couldn’t bring himself to say that aloud. Because, in a way, what he’d forgotten this time was a favor Shine had done for him, forgetting the debt he owed her.
And what was it that he’d forgotten?
“…The Sword God’s Tomb! I told you countless times! My purpose in all this is the Sword God’s Tomb!”
Yes, that.
That was the sole reason and purpose Shine had joined the trip to Lorutel. And Aster… had completely forgotten that until the conversation with the young lord ended. So even if he had ten mouths, he would have nothing to say.
If he did, he’d be less than human.
Aster pressed his lips tight before murmuring…
“But, it’s not like you actually did anythi—”
“What, you son of a bitch?”
“…Never mind. I’m sorry.”
Today, even if he had a mouth, there was nothing he could say.
