Chapter 46: Hadecaine (3)

Charlotte watched as the assassins were ground to pieces. Deculein’s Steel spun dozens of times per second, turning the area into a scene of carnage as blood and flesh scattered. She quickly covered Maho’s eyes with her hands. When Maho tried to peek around them, Charlotte held her firmly, blocking her view completely.

“W-why are you doing this?” Maho objected, her voice trembling.

“You mustn’t look, Princess,” Charlotte insisted firmly.

The situation remained dire. A dozen or so assassins had escaped the range of the attack, and the most dangerous threat, Diarnath, had yet to reveal itself. Charlotte gripped her sword, the mere act causing her right shoulder to throb with pain. It was an injury she had hidden from the princess, a wound bound by a curse.

“Charlotte,” Deculein called, gripping his staff and keeping his eyes on the enemies. “Take the princess and leave. I will follow shortly. If we delay here, the princess will be in grave danger. The demonic energy is too dense.”

“... Are you certain?” she asked.

“Go,” he commanded.

Charlotte hesitated but finally nodded. It wasn’t the time to be stubborn and insist on fighting together. She picked up Maho, and a piece of Wood Steel followed them, seemingly for protection.

“Boss, I will stay and assist the professor,” Ron said.

“... Understood,” she replied.

As Charlotte turned with Maho, the demonic presence grew more distinct. Diarnath emerged nearby. Though it looked human, its silhouette was as faint as the setting sun. It was a hybrid of demon and ghost, a monster both material and fluid. Charlotte ran, adjusting her speed to shield the princess from the demonic energy.

Whistle—

Diarnath whistled mockingly as they ran away.

“How far can those two women run?” Deculein wondered aloud, clinging to his sanity by sheer will. Deep-seated hatred and contempt rose from the depths of his consciousness, but he suppressed them.

“You cannot kill me with mere steel devoid of mana or even ordinary magic,” Diarnath declared, his laugh rough and crackling like burnt embers.

As Diarnath claimed, ordinary steel couldn’t kill it, nor could ephemeral magic. It was like trying to cut or burn air. Killing it required extremely high-level magic, but in Crebas Canyon, powerful spells would dissipate due to the demonic energy. Diarnath knew this well.

Deculein closed his eyes, calculating the path of the

Wood Steel

, considering his amplified and recovering mana. He devised a plan to tear Diarnath apart, predicting and measuring every aspect of the battle.

Hummm—

The Rockelock’s Staff glowed with his mana. Infused with the exorcist's blood, it mirrored its master’s fury. Deculein opened his eyes, now gleaming with bright blue light. Diarnath still stood on the other side. Deculein drew an imaginary line on the ground. The moment Diarnath crossed it, the Wood Steel would execute his meticulously devised plan.

Step.

Diarnath took one step forward. Sweat gathered in Ron’s hands.

Step.

Diarnath approached confidently. However, Deculein knew how to kill it.

Step.

Diarnath took another step. As it crossed the line, a cold flash of steel struck from its right side. Neither Ron nor Deculein could see it happen. The Wood Steel moved according to the prearranged plan, acting independently. Time seemed to stand still, and only the steel moved.

Swoosh—!

Diarnath felt its neck being pierced, yet not a drop of blood flowed from the wound. The first piece of Wood Steel severed its neck and then swiftly descended, slicing from collarbone to groin. The second piece was cut horizontally, from the lower right pelvis to the upper left armpit.

The third, fourth, and fifth pieces tore through its spine, segment by segment. The sixth and seventh pieces severed its wrists. The eighth and ninth pieces sliced through its legs. The tenth and eleventh pieces spiraled around its body, carving fine lines into Diarnath's flesh. Smoke seeped from the cuts.

Soon, Diarnath felt its vision flip. The world spun, and it saw its own headless body being torn apart by the steel. The twelfth piece calmly approached, piercing its eyes and crushing its brain. The thirteenth and fourteenth pieces rampaged inside its body. In less than a second, Diarnath was divided into 2,352 pieces.

Meanwhile, several assassins tried to bypass Deculein and chase after Charlotte. Deculein extended the Wood Steel, killing them instantly. Their swift retreat and the confusion on their faces were apparent, even to Ron.

“Professor! O-over there!” Ron shouted, pointing urgently.

Diarnath began to reassemble, its body shifting and melding back together.

“Do not make a fuss,” Deculein said calmly.

He knew how to kill it. The method was simple.

“You kill it repeatedly until it is truly dead,” he said, his tone edged with finality.

Then, dozens of Wood Steel blades rose once more. They repeated the process of dismantling Diarnath endlessly. Ron stood in awe, mesmerized by their destructive power.

***

Charlotte and Maho crossed the canyon and ran across the field without stopping until they reached the border of Yuren.

However, their escape was not easy. Enemies emerged, assassins rushing at them from the shadows. Charlotte swung her sword with one hand, killing them. The cursed pain in her right arm spread through her body, but she ignored it. Her Sword Qi flickered with mana, crushing their flesh and bones.

Before long, someone shouted, “Over there!”

It was the Grand Duke’s knights. Although they couldn't enter the Empire’s border, they appeared at the designated route in Yuren to aid Charlotte. The knights swiftly charged in and cut down the assassins, turning the battle in their favor. Charlotte sighed in relief.

She looked down at Maho in her arms, who gazed up at her and asked, “Are you alright, Princess?”

“Yes... I feel a bit nauseous, but I’m alright.”

“It is an early symptom of demonic energy poisoning, but it is mild. You will recover soon.”

Agghhh—!

The knights didn’t let a single assassin escape. Those captured chose to take their own lives.

Slash—!

As the sword sliced through flesh, the area fell silent.

Soon after, Girand, the Minister of Internal Affairs and Maho’s grandfather of the Principality, appeared.

“Maho.”

“

Ah

! Grandfather!” Maho cried, running to him.

Girand looked at her with a deeply apologetic expression and said, “It has been a while. Please forgive us for being able to do nothing but wait here.”

“It’s alright, it’s alright~ I understand~ I’m just grateful that you came. Thank you.”

Maho remained as cheerful as ever. Girand patted her head and then turned to Charlotte, who was clutching her sore shoulder.

“Charlotte.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well done. Are you the only survivor?”

“... No, sir,” Charlotte replied, shaking her head. Since Deculein had made it clear he would follow, and surely, he would bring Ron with him. “We will wait here for them.”

Girand nodded. They settled down, burying the bodies while waiting for their comrades to arrive. Time passed slowly, and the wind was cold. Thirty minutes went by, then an hour, then two.

“Let us return inside,” Girand said, placing a hand on Charlotte’s shoulder.

“... Wait! Look over there!” Maho exclaimed, pointing.

Everyone turned to look. In the dim light of dusk, where the horizon blurred, two figures approached. Charlotte sighed in relief.

“Professor, professor! You’re safe!” Maho cried, running to greet him.

Deculein, still bearing the tension of battle, wore a stern expression. He soon smiled, bowed politely and said, “Thank you for your concern, Princess.”

“I’m so relieved.

Phew

. Thank you, Professor, truly—”

“Princess,” Deculein whispered in her ear. “There’s no need to pretend anymore.”

Maho’s expression hardened slightly. Deculein knew her true nature. Her playful demeanor wasn't false, but her innocent facade was. She knew exactly which aspects of herself would elicit sympathy and which actions would increase her chances of survival. Maho looked at Deculein with her large eyes. He smiled silently.

Charlotte approached and said, "Hey, you—"

“Now that our task is complete, I shall take my leave. Ron will provide the details. Ron?”

“Yes, sir! Understood!” Ron replied, standing at attention.

Ron, who had been full of suspicion just a day before, now regarded Deculein with admiration and respect.

Charlotte nodded and said, "... Thank you. I will never forget this favor—no, this deal."

Deculein turned without a word. He displayed neither fatigue nor any desire for rest, maintaining the same dignified presence as when they first met.

“Charlotte,” Girand called, his gaze following Deculein's retreating figure. To him, it was a mysterious sight.

“Yes, sir.”

“Is he part of the escort team?”

Before Charlotte could answer, Ron interjected, “Yes, sir. He is Deculein, the Head Professor of the Mage Tower of the Empire. He killed dozens of assassins and defeated Diarnath.”

“... Diarnath? From the Crebas Canyon?”

Ron nodded proudly and said, “Yes, sir.”

“Is that possible? Even for a professor, Crebas is quite challenging.”

“I witnessed it myself, sir. Professor Deculein’s magic is far beyond that of ordinary mages,” Ron said, gazing into the distance with admiration. Maho also looked in the same direction. “The professor toyed with Diarnath effortlessly. Every attack missed him. His skills were almost invincible, the pinnacle of combat magic..."

Ron’s praise was full of emotion. Girand and the other knights regarded Deculein with newfound respect. Against the darkening horizon, the figure of Yukline’s lineage stood tall.

***

[Independent Quest Complete]

◆ Store Currency +4

◆ Mana Point +30

Upon exiting the Crebas Canyon, I found the Red Hare waiting as instructed. I mounted it, ready to return, but glanced back at the canyon entrance. Inside, the mana recovery rate had been enough to imbue all the

Wood Steel

with the

Midas Touch

and still have excess. During the six-hour walk out, I had managed to imbue attributes to four pieces of

Wood Steel

.

However, the process of purifying and absorbing the demonic energy had taken a toll on my body, particularly draining my mental strength. The canyon’s essence felt increasingly infectious, intensifying the influence of Deculein’s Personality Traits. I had no desire to spend any more time there than absolutely necessary.

"Let us proceed to Hadecaine."

The Red Hare galloped swiftly. I dozed lightly in the saddle. Sensing my fatigue, the horse adjusted its pace and gait to reduce the jostling. When I opened my eyes again, we were at the Hadecaine Castle.

“...

Hmm

.”

I hadn’t planned on coming here, but since I was already at the castle, I decided to inspect Deculein’s room.

“You, over there.”

“...

Ah

! Good evening, Master Deculein!”

I handed the Red Hare to a nearby guard and entered the castle. A servant guided me to Deculein’s room.

“Is this the correct room?”

“Yes, sir.”

“It’s been a while; I nearly lost my way. You may leave now.”

I opened the door. The room was tidy and unremarkable, but a notebook on the shelf caught my eye. It was untitled and looked ordinary, yet my

Sharp Eyesight

told me it was special. Without my

Sharp Eyesight

, I wouldn’t have noticed it at all. I tucked the notebook into my coat and left.

Then, I proceeded to the lord’s office.

Knock, knock—

After knocking, I turned the handle and entered.

“What the hell!” Yeriel’s sharp voice greeted me. She frowned and glared. “You should be knocking!”

“I did.”

“Next time, wait for a reply. Honestly...”

I approached Yeriel. She had pencils and a notebook on her desk and was focused on something.

“What are you working on?”

“... This year’s Wizard Academic,” Yeriel replied.

Wizard Academic was a magical journal. It was more of a collection of magical problems posed for amusement. Solving these problems could sometimes lead to new insights, so it wasn’t entirely pointless. Moreover, the Millennium problems set by ancient Archmages were recorded there. I had never bothered with them; it seemed like a waste of time.

“Let me see. Which question are you working on?”

Yeriel handed me the journal without a word. I employed my

Comprehension

to solve the problem. With the answers accessible, my

Comprehension

worked remarkably well. The more specific the subject, the less mana it consumed.

“This appears to be a well-crafted problem...”

Even so, solving a single problem consumed 2,000 mana. I wrote the solution in the answer section almost instinctively. At that moment, a system message appeared...

[Mini Quest: Solve Academic Problem]

◆ Mana Point +2

“...

Hm

?”

“What?” Yeriel asked, her tone indifferent.

“... It’s nothing.”

My mana points increased by two. It seemed insignificant, yet significant. Without further comment, I returned the journal to Yeriel. She widened her eyes at the correct answer I had written.

“No! Why did you write the answer here?!”

“I am weary today. I shall retire to bed.”

“What? Wait! I spent two hours working on that question—”

“If it took you two hours but I solved it in three minutes, Yeriel, the issue lies with you, not me.”

“I don’t care! Are you boasting? I almost had it solved!”

I chuckled and left the office, ignoring her muttered complaints. Even a mere two mana points were precious to me now. I felt as though I had gained some insight into improving my mana reserves...

[Mana Point: 1,419 / 3,419 (+800)]

[Mana Grade: 5]

***

The Principality of Yuren, despite its name, operated independently, free from the influence of any king or Emperor. This autonomy stemmed from Yuren’s legacy as the successor state to a long-extinct kingdom. Bordered by the sea to the southwest and a mountain range to the northeast, the principality had developed a unique culture.

Emphasizing commerce, Yuren had advanced banking and trade systems. The principality also fostered the arts through the Atlan Academy, which produced writers, artists, and musicians. Late one night in Lucangel Castle, the residence of the Grand Duke, Girand, the Minister of Internal Affairs and the Duke’s brother, summoned Charlotte to his office.

“Yes, Minister. What is it that you need?” Charlotte asked.

"... How is Maho?" Girand inquired, his expression serious.

"She has just retired to her chambers," Charlotte replied, her fatigue evident.

Girand sighed and gestured to a chair. “Please, sit down. I have something important to discuss with you.”

Charlotte felt a wave of unease as she sat down.

"What is it you need to tell me?" Charlotte asked, trying to maintain her composure. She wondered if the Principality intended to reject Maho as well.

"Prepare yourself for what I am about to say," Girand began. In the next moment, his words shattered Charlotte’s expectations. "The Grand Duke desires Maho to be his successor."

“... I beg your pardon?” Charlotte said, her jaw dropped as she stared at Girand, unable to blink. The fatigue made this feel like a dream. “Could you clarify your statement...?”

“The Grand Duke has harbored this wish since before Maho sent her letter. His grandson has proven to be untrustworthy.”

“I... I do not understand. Are you suggesting that the princess might inherit the title of Grand Duchess?”

"Indeed," Girand replied with a bittersweet smile.

Charlotte was appalled and asked, “Can such a thing truly be possible?”

“Certainly, it is possible. Maho is a direct descendant of the Grand Duke. Three years ago, she was designated as the second in line for succession.”

“But the princess is not fit to bear the weight of the crown. Her nature is too kind and gentle for such a role...” Charlotte protested.

But Girand shook his head and said, “You are somewhat naive yourself.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Regardless, this information is strictly confidential. Only the Grand Duke, you, and I are aware of it.”

"Yes, of course," Charlotte concurred, though the gravity of the revelation caused a throbbing ache in her head.

However, a furrow soon appeared on her brow as a thought began to take shape at the edge of her mind.

“What troubles you?” Girand inquired.

At that moment, a sudden realization struck Charlotte and said, “...

Oh

!”

Girand started at her sudden exclamation.

“Could it be...?”

She thought of Deculein. He had known that Maho needed to go to Yuren to survive and had called their cooperation a deal. At the time, she accepted it, trusting in Deculein’s grudge against Leoc. However, the term deal seemed inappropriate. A deal implies a mutual exchange, but Maho, an abandoned princess, had nothing to offer him.

“What troubles you?” Girand asked again, his curiosity piqued by her reaction.

“Minister, does anyone else know about this matter?”

“No one. The Grand Duke informed me of this today.”

A chill ran through Charlotte as Deculein’s words echoed in her mind.

“I am deeply versed in politics. My intelligence and insight far surpass yours.”

Deculein appeared to have considered all these dynamics. He seemed to have deduced the relationship between Maho and the Grand Duke, calculated the power play between the kingdom and the principality, and concluded that Maho could inherit the dukedom. If so, the depth of his insight and strategy was truly astounding.

“What a monster.”

The depth of his thoughts and the precision and thoroughness of his strategies were truly astounding. Deculein's ability to foresee and manipulate such complex dynamics revealed a mind of remarkable insight and strategic brilliance.

“What? Are you implying that I am a monster?”

Charlotte snapped back to reality to find Girand glaring at her and said, “No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Your thoughts slipped out. I apologize for not making diplomatic efforts to save Maho and for burdening you with this heavy issue upon her arrival. It may seem monstrous.”

“No, that’s not what I meant at all—”

“That’s enough.”

“No—”

“You may leave.”

“No... Please, hear me out...”