🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 34
Alchemist Cain (2)
Ian overtook the carriage and arrived first in front of the lord’s manor.
Handing the reins of his horse to a soldier, he took a cup of water offered by a servant and then fixed his gaze on the government officer stepping down from the carriage.
Unlike the treasurer, this officer practically came to see him every single day.
“You grow healthier by the day, my lord. The future of the domain looks bright.”
“A merchant I met yesterday said something similar. That I would restore the former glory of my house. Bah, nonsense. I’m destined to spend my life paying off debts bit by bit.”
Mentioning the debt he owed the Grand Lord, Ian let out a dry chuckle and headed for his office.
“Sit down over there, officer. Your leg is bad.”
As Ian sat in his chair, he gestured to another chair nearby.
“I’m fine, my lord.”
“Sit. That’s an order.”
The officer hesitated, staring at the chair.
Sitting down would feel like revealing weakness before his lord, and it made him uncomfortable.
“Or shall I make you like the treasurer?”
Ian leaned deep into his chair, expressionless as he spoke.
Only then did the officer finally sit, looking up at Ian seated high on the dais.
“Well then, what has happened in my domain today?”
Ian knew the officer received reports from every village through carrier pigeons.
“The captain of the guard has departed from Gram Village and is heading toward the castle.”
“Oh, has he?”
Ian’s eyes suddenly sharpened.
“That’s good news. When they return, they deserve a reward. To have annihilated a band of four hundred brigands—that is no small feat.”
“Indeed, my lord. However, there is something troubling.”
“What is it?”
“The captain’s decision to cross the Red Gorge and enter our neighbor’s territory was a grave mistake. The Lord of Robellon has long coveted our lands. I fear this has given him just the excuse he needs…”
Ian waved a hand, recalling the earlier report.
“I’d have done the same. What sort of monsters rip the bones out of women and children while still alive? I fully agree with the captain’s decision.”
“That is beside the point. The lives of the already dead matter less than the safety of your domain. The captain should never have crossed the gorge.”
At the officer’s cold assessment, Ian fell silent.
“My lord, perhaps you should send word to the Lord of Robellon, with suitable reparations attached.”
“Those scum must have committed murder and pillage in Robellon as well. We did them a favor, didn’t we?”
Ian leaned to the side, clearly displeased.
Yet in the end, he nodded.
Robellon had the larger military force, and if it came to war, his people would suffer. Best to avoid it if possible.
“How much?”
The officer answered at once, clearly prepared.
“About twenty thousand gold coins.”
“What? That much?”
“It must be sufficient to preserve the other lord’s dignity.”
“Does the domain even have that much in surplus?”
The officer smiled faintly.
“Do we not have the wealth expected from the treasurer?”
“That’s supposed to go into my private coffers.”
Ian frowned. When the officer kept silent, he sighed deeply.
“Fine. Speak with the treasurer. The sooner someone departs for Robellon, the better. Who will you send?”
“I’ll choose a capable administrator, someone skilled in speech.”
“Do it.”
“Next…”
The officer pulled out a second report.
“This concerns the monster subjugation. Mercenaries have gathered in Yondiar and begun the hunt. The main companies are the Krafun, Nine, Black Lion, and Illian mercenaries, totaling around three hundred men.”
“They’ll sweep through the Yondiar Mountains, killing monsters along the way, correct?”
“Yes.”
The regular monster subjugation, held every five years, prevented the creatures of the Yondiar range from descending and destroying villages.
“Is there no permanent solution? They say Yondiar remains undeveloped because of these monsters.”
“The range is vast and treacherous, one of the most formidable in the kingdom. Even in daylight, the forests are so thick it’s dark as night. A full eradication is impossible.”
“What if we send the guard in alongside the mercenaries?”
“It would still be folly. Even mercenaries don’t penetrate deep into the range. They keep to the areas near villages. If the entire guard marched in, we could lose them all. My lord must think carefully.”
Indeed, there was a reason none of Ian’s predecessors had ever eradicated the monsters of Yondiar.
“How long will the subjugation last?”
“Barring any unusual incidents, about three months.”
Ian stroked his chin, then nodded.
“Anything else to report?”
“That is all for today, my lord.”
“Good. Then hear me. Bring me the man called Cain, imprisoned four years ago. I have questions for him.”
The prison was no place of free meals. Prisoners had to work until their backs bent just to earn a crust of hard bread and some water.
“Move it! No slacking!”
At the logging camp near Camu, convicts dragged felled trees down the mountain, chains clanking around their ankles.
While woodcutters chopped, the prisoners hauled.
Among them was Cain, a middle-aged man with long hair and a thick brown beard.
He pulled on the rope tied to a massive log with the others, when suddenly his side grew wet with blood.
“Payback, bastard.”
A fellow prisoner had jabbed a sharpened stick into his ribs, grinning.
“Idiot.”
Cain seized the man’s wrist, yanked him close, and smashed his forehead into the man’s face.
Crack.
The attacker’s nose broke, and he went sprawling with a scream.
“Don’t pick fights you can’t finish.”
Cain lifted his ragged prison tunic, revealing only a shallow wound bleeding lightly.
“What are you doing over there?!”
Guards came running at the sound, forcing both Cain and his attacker face-down, boots grinding into their backs.
“Brawling, are you? No rations for either of you tonight!”
Cain made no excuses, though he’d been attacked first.
In prison, both sides always paid the same price—that was the rule he’d lived by for four years.
“Back to work!”
Cain spat out dirt and leaves, then calmly took up the rope again as if nothing had happened.
After dragging the heavy log down, he used his brief rest to smear salve on his wound.
‘Guess I’ll go hungry tonight.’
As he smiled bitterly at the thought, a shadow fell over him.
“Cain. Get in the carriage. You’re needed.”
Blanzorre silently observed Ian training in qigong.
This technique, gathering force within the body to use later, had been lost since the age of the giants—yet the man from Earth was reviving it.
So the key lies in that flowing motion, like a dance, woven with his breathing…
But watching was not enough. Ian’s unique breathing method could not be copied without knowing where it began or ended.
The aura within the underground training hall gathered around Ian, then suddenly dispersed.
Hands pressed together like a monk, Ian had been about to absorb it when he sighed.
Always, at this point, the energy scattered.
It hasn’t been long. With time, I’ll build inner strength in my dantian again.
He did not hurry himself.
After all, even mastering the Force Sword within the dungeon had been a feat in itself.
In a flash, he drew the training blade from its rack, pulling the scattered energy back into it.
Silver light burst forth, dazzling his eyes.
“Blanzorre, the captain of the guard is coming. How do you think he’ll react to me now?”
—He’ll be astonished. You’ve become a different man.
Ian slashed at Blanzorre’s phantom body. The blade passed through, then he relaxed his aura and sheathed the sword.
“I really am looking forward to meeting him. Though it’ll be… uncomfortable.”
—If you fear him, leave this castle now.
“There you go again with that nonsense.”
Ian sat cross-legged, arms folded.
“Until I find and destroy the Dragon’s Eye, I won’t die. So don’t worry. Worst case, I can just warp away if the captain tries to kill me.”
Facing the sword master who was once deputy commander of the royal knights would require him to at least master Beast Swordsmanship. He hadn’t even begun.
“Tell me, Blanzorre. Must the Dragon’s Eye really be destroyed? If it contains the power of an ancient dragon, wouldn’t it be an incredible treasure?”
—Do not covet it. The Dragon’s Eye is a power that must not exist in this world.
Blanzorre’s eyes were colder than ever. Ian licked his lips and rose.
“Then at least tell me where the Emperor’s Tomb lies. That can’t be forbidden, right?”
—Destroy the Dragon’s Eye first, and I’ll consider it.
“That damned Eye. Fine, I’ll find it and break it.”
Grumbling, Ian resumed his drills.
The heavy doors groaned open behind him. He turned.
Rondo stood at the entrance to the training hall.
“My lord, the prisoner has arrived.”
Ian pushed open the office door and entered.
Cain knelt in the center of the room. When he tried to look up, soldiers forced his shoulders down.
“That’s enough.”
Ian waved them off and sat in the chair on the dais, addressing Cain.
“Raise your head.”
“….”
Slowly, Cain lifted his gaze.
Behind his long hair and thick beard, sharp brown eyes glimmered—catching Ian’s interest.
“Do you know who I am?”
“You must be the lord.”
“Correct. I am Ian Alberne, master of this castle.”
“It is an honor to meet you, my lord.”
Cain bowed his head in respect.
Ian studied him for a moment, then gestured to a guard.
“His throat is dry. Bring water.”
Cain seized the large jug and drank noisily until it was empty, his eyes never leaving the lord on the dais.
So he’s not sick after all.
The last news Cain had heard, from a fellow prisoner months ago, claimed the treasurer and officer manipulated a frail, sickly young lord behind the scenes.
So why summon me now?
A moment later, an ancient parchment document was placed before him.
