Chapter 146. Have You Ever Heard of Guilt by Association?
The Small Sword Hall, where the young master resides.
Sion paced restlessly through the reception room.
How much time had passed?
“Lord Young Master, the Master of the Tower is here—”
“You’ve come?”
Sion quickly opened the door and greeted Aster.
“Please, sit. There’s much I want to ask you, but… first, I must apologize. Truly, from the bottom of my heart, I am sorry.”
Unlike his previous roundabout apology, this was direct and sincere.
The young master of Lorutel had bowed his head.
And yet, why?
Aster remained silent.
Sion cautiously lifted his head to read Aster’s expression, then carefully asked,
“Are you… all right?”
“…All right?”
“You don’t look well. Are your internal injuries severe? Someone! Bring in a potion for internal wounds!”
A servant waiting outside promptly answered, and before long, a potion was in the young master’s hands.
“It’s a potion. Unlike the regular ones, this works even without a breathing technique.”
It was a high-end product, far superior to the potion Kalahan once had.
Aster silently accepted the bottle and gulped it down. His grim expression wasn’t because of internal injuries, but since it was free and his wounds weren’t minor anyway, he finished it all.
Once Aster emptied the potion, Sion spoke again.
“Seeing that you came back alive, I assume the conversation went well… Am I right?”
Aster nodded.
Indeed, as the young master guessed, the talks had ended favorably.
‘I really thought I was dead for sure…’
Unexpectedly, the head of Lorutel had accepted all his terms. Not only the primary goal, the Infinite Chain, but when Aster subtly brought up the “Grave of the Sword God,” the man even nodded.
“About the Infinite Chain said he’d speak with you directly.”
“Ah…! That’s a relief! Once again, I’m truly sorry. Did he say anything else? I could hear it myself, but I’m curious.”
“Something else…”
Aster briefly summarized his conversation with the patriarch regarding the Infinite Chain.
The deal itself would proceed exactly as agreed with the young master.
However…Out of courtesy, perhaps, he would send the First Sword personally to the village of Baidun to announce the contract’s dissolution.
For Lorutel, this was natural post-deal protocol, but for Aster, it was a favor. Because…
‘Dekulan will soon notice that something’s changed in Lorutel.’
Things had been far too loud. A pillar of fire piercing the sky in the middle of Lorutel at midnight, no one could miss that.
So even if not immediately…
‘…a day or two, at most.’
Dekulan would know soon enough.
And when he did, he’d realize something had gone wrong. Maybe not the full contract breach yet, but enough to prepare countermeasures. And once he confirmed it, since he already suspected Falun, he’d likely seize the road to the Academy. Or perhaps try something unexpected.
But…
‘Once the First Sword moves, Dekulan won’t be able to focus elsewhere.’
All his intelligence resources would be diverted to tracking that sword’s movements.
Lorutel wouldn’t be insane enough to actually send the First Sword to attack Dekulan, but even that mere possibility would force Dekulan to brace for loss. Such was the strategic weight of the leader of Lorutel’s Ten Swords.
Hence…
“…Your father truly showed great favor.”
Sion’s dazed reaction was understandable. Even Sir Zeke, ranked third among the Ten Swords, could not compare to Hamellan, the First Sword, whose standing was on another level entirely. It was around then that Sion voiced his concern.
“But… Why do you look like that? Did something happen?”
He studied Aster’s face closely.
For someone whose plans had succeeded, Aster looked far too grim.
“Something happen…”
Aster’s stiff lips twisted faintly.
“The patriarch gave me a great gift, you see.”
“…A gift?”
“Yes. A great gift.”
It wasn’t sarcasm.
What Muhad had given him truly was a great gift.
Only…
— “You said you’d stand against Dekulan… A hollow dream.”
— “With a collapsing vessel, you’ll achieve neither Dekulan nor even a house of your own.”
A collapsing vessel, that meant…
‘The Circle.’
The imperfection of his core.
* * *
After the Shadow Knights withdrew…
“You said you’d stand against Dekulan… A hollow dream. With a collapsing vessel, you’ll achieve neither Dekulan nor even a house of your own.”
That was the first thing the patriarch said to me.
“What do you mean by that…?”
“Don’t ask how I saw it. Sometimes, a demon sword shows even what one wishes not to see.”
Apparently, his demonic sword had the ability to perceive my core.
For a moment, I thought he might have detected the presence of Reverse Heaven, but thankfully, he hadn’t.
Anyway, he added, “It’s not heart demons nor backlash. The limitation lies in the art itself.”
A limitation in the art itself?
‘That makes no sense…’
It was hard to believe.
After all, what technique had I mastered?
I grafted the root of Dekulan’s Heavenly Origin Art with the Red Flame’s secret. And yet he called it limited? That meant Dekulan’s own art had limits!
But thinking carefully…
‘I never learned the Heavenly Origin Art in its pure form.’
The technique itself was complete.
Only, the way I built my core had differed.
So, what did that mean?
‘The Circle… is an incomplete art.’
Honestly, it was difficult to accept.
Because…In the Great Forest, I completed the Circle and reached Transcendence.
If the Circle had truly been incomplete, then I could never have ascended back there.
Still, I couldn’t dismiss his words outright.
“For now, it’ll serve you. But as your vessel grows, so will the cracks. Whether to believe me or not, that’s your choice.”
Sitting upon his Iron Throne, the patriarch’s grave voice lent credibility even to nonsense, this was why position mattered.
‘Probably, the only reason others don’t believe me is that my position’s pathetic.’
In any case…I couldn’t ignore it.
So I thought deeply.
‘The Circle in the Great Forest was perfect.’
Then what had changed?
It didn’t take long to find the answer.
‘The Circle I have now… differs from that one.’
For one thing, its scale.
If the Great Forest’s Circle was a massive adult anaconda, then this one was a starved hatchling.
‘At first, I thought it was just the difference in mana volume—but it’s more than that.’
I didn’t yet know all the causes, but the Circle of then and the Circle of now were undeniably different.
“Now do you see? Why I said I was disappointed.”
I nodded at his question.
No wonder he’d found me pathetic.
The Master of the Tower, a leader wielding a technique with an evident flaw. To the patriarch, it must have been ridiculous.
But curiosity still gnawed at me.
“What’s your reason?”
“Speak plainly.”
“Why show such favor?”
“Reason…”
Patriarch Muhad’s eyes were detached, almost mocking.
Was it my imagination, or did the corner of his lips curve slightly upward?
“Because it’s amusing.”
“…What is?”
“The futility of struggle in the face of limits. The absurdity of sharpening a blade toward an unreachable foe. Do you know? That ‘Infinite Chain’ you risk your life to obtain means nothing to the main house.”
In other words…
“I was curious.”
He wanted to see.
“To see what kind of face you’d make when I told you your limit.”
“And if I don’t believe you?”
“That too would be worth seeing. To ignore truth when it’s handed to you, spectacular.”
At that, I couldn’t help but think:
Was this man really the lord of Lorutel?
‘Don’t tell me he was adopted from Dekulan as a child?’
A patriarch of a knightly family… twisted beyond reason. It was so absurd I couldn’t even laugh.
But the real spectacle came next.
“So, how do you feel?”
“Disappointed.”
Damn it, always “disappointed.”
That phrase was every instructor’s favorite back when I was a Troubleshooter trainee.
“This instructor is disappointed in you!”
And now I was hearing it from Lorutel’s patriarch himself!
But he wasn’t finished.
“Still, I must say, it’s entertaining. You always move outside prediction.”
“What do you mean…?”
“Your limits are clear. Judging by that, your Tower and Sword Garden must be pitiful too. The Infinite Chain? You may have outwitted Dekulan this time, but how long can that last?”
“I predict you’ll be crushed under Dekulan.”
And not just that…
“If such incidents repeat, you won’t even reach Dekulan.”
Then he said it…
“You’re like a worm.”
So why show me kindness?
The answer was the same as before.
“Move beyond my predictions.”
In other words, he was expecting something.
For me to surpass his foresight.
To transcend the Circle’s limits, evade Dekulan’s pursuit, strengthen the Tower and Sword Garden, and finally confront Dekulan himself.
That feeling…
‘…It’s been a long time since I’ve felt something this vile.’
My expression twisted as if I’d swallowed poison.
The Circle aside, the patriarch of Lorutel had struck straight at my heart.
…Remembering all that, I stared at the young master before me.
“Tell me, have you ever heard of guilt by association?”
“You mean… inheriting another’s sin?”
“Good. Then you won’t feel wronged later.”
“…?”
I looked at the puzzled young master.
And thought…
‘Will this brat become like his father someday?’
Tch. In that case, I’d better crush him first.
“Anyway, let’s talk about when you’re handing over the Infinite Chain.”
I changed the topic before the young master could catch on.
* * *
The Iron Great Hall.
After hearing about the meeting with the Tower’s Master, Hamellan the First Sword quietly sipped his drink.
“Hmm… This old man dares presume, looks like the Master of the Tower seems to have pleased you?”
“I merely pitied him.”
A man trapped in circumstances beyond his control, yet refusing to flee, charging headlong even knowing he’ll shatter.
Hamellan shook his head.
“I think… that’s not all there is.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. Have you forgotten? I was once your teacher. I can tell when you’re hiding something.”
“Indeed, the First Sword’s eyes see through me.”
Muhad smiled faintly, draining his cup.
Since becoming patriarch, he rarely had cause to smile, but tonight, laughter came too easily.
Hamellan asked softly, “May I ask what that other reason is?”
“Reason…”
Muhad fell silent, lost in thought.
He recalled a sorcerer from long ago.
That mage shared little resemblance to the Tower’s Master, save for one thing.
“There was another who always moved beyond my predictions. Seeing the Tower’s Master reminded me of him.”
“By ‘him,’ do you mean…”
“Who else?”
Muhad spoke the name he loathed most in the world.
“Paheren von Dekulan.”
“…….”
Hamellan looked at him with trembling eyes.
‘The Tower’s Master… and Paheren?’
It revealed just how deep the patriarch’s hatred for Paheren truly ran.
