WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 35: A Night of Counting Stars (9)
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“Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace!!”
“Stop saying crazy things and focus!!”
Eugene was still cutting down elves with his eyes burning a fierce blue.
Judging by the brilliant white lights bursting from his sword with every swing, his “god” seemed quite pleased with his prayers.
Still, no matter how talented they were, they were students in the end. Being skilled for their year only meant their experience was of a different caliber.
“We’re being pushed back! We’re getting pushed back!!”
“I know! Hold the line!”
Oswald and Yuri gritted their teeth and repeatedly waved their hands. Their attacks were blocked every time, and there was no visible way to break through the army advancing in a shield formation.
These were soldiers who had survived the demonfolk war. Only four years had passed since the age of peace began. They might have grown lazy and relaxed, but they were still soldiers who remembered their active years.
In other words, they were far too elite an opponent for twenty-first-century transmigrators with almost no combat experience to face first.
If the soldiers had intended to kill them from the start, the battle would have ended long ago. The deck officer snorted and shouted.
“Students? Isn’t it about time you stopped and put down your weapons?”
“When is Ivan coming already?!”
Just as Yuri’s tearful cry grew sharper, the deck began to shake.
-Kugugugugu...!
“What...?!”
“The bridge! Check the bridge! What’s happening? Watchman!”
“What about the captain?!”
A grinding sound rose from beneath the deck as the keel groaned, then a massive impact struck the ship like an explosion.
Soldiers and transmigrators alike staggered, fell, and rolled across the deck.
“What was that?”
“Did Ivan do this...?”
Oswald braced himself against the floor to regain his balance, then suddenly looked up.
A vast current of mana... no, a flow woven with advanced technique, came into view.
Dark green mana surged into the cabin like a storm. Boom. Boom. The explosions were drawing closer.
“No, it wasn’t Ivan. This is...”
Oswald narrowed his eyes. Soon, dense mana gathered in the middle of the deck.
“Move!!”
-Kwaaaang!!
Yuri threw Eugene aside, his eyes still wild from the Bestow Courage buff, then grabbed Oswald by the back of his neck and leaped backward. A huge crack opened in the center of the deck, and something shot out of it.
The object spun through the air, righted itself, and landed beside the transmigrators. It was a flawless landing, as clean as if measured with a ruler.
“Ivan!”
“Hmm.”
An acrid, burnt smell rose from Ivan’s body. Holding his axe, he calmly stared ahead.
“Excellent! To have honed your Ideal to this extent in a world where peace has been preserved like a museum piece!”
“L-Lord Beolgreen?!”
The sailors’ eyes widened as though they might pop out. Ivan narrowed his own eyes at their reaction. What was this? He had deceived even his fellow elves?
But why?
If the Kalion Archipelago had wanted to support Alexander at the national level, there would have been no need for such a needlessly underhanded method.
“Um, Ivan. Could you explain what exactly is happening here...?”
Oswald looked at Beolgreen floating in the air with confused eyes.
As an elf, Oswald had met Beolgreen a few times. Beolgreen was an incredible mage, truly overwhelming.
And that being was now floating over their heads, preparing an attack spell.
“A little lacking, was it?”
“It nearly worked.”
Beolgreen looked down at Ivan with a faint smile. One arm was missing. With a bitter smile, Beolgreen said,
“I suppose I owe Lord August an apology. I didn’t expect you to appear, but well... it seems I provoked Princess Elizaveta more than I expected. I planned to visit secretly under friendlier circumstances than this.”
When Beolgreen raised the remaining hand, dark green mana surged thickly around it. Ivan watched closely, ready to throw his axe.
If even one transmigrator could draw Beolgreen’s attention, they might have a chance at victory.
But neither the battlefield nor the situation was favorable.
“We’ll meet again later. The circumstances aren’t good right now.”
“Beolgreen.”
“How much do you know about Crown Prince Alexander? Even knowing ‘that,’ are you still loyal to your king?”
“...What?”
Beolgreen waved one hand. Powerful mana gathered into the shape of a fist and lifted the carriage that had been lodged in a corner of the deck.
A commotion and screams came from inside the carriage. Then, with a clatter, its door opened.
“Come out.”
“W-What is the meaning of this...?! We came to negotiate a secret agreement...!”
“Shh. Quiet.”
Beolgreen swung the remaining arm. The middle-aged man who had poked his head out of the carriage was pulled into the air by mana.
“So he didn’t come himself after all. What is your name?”
“N-Nikolai Slapanovo Rurik...! I-I have been granted plenipotentiary authority by this nation’s Foreign Ministry!! You cannot harm me!”
“Oh, so you don’t know who you’re saying that to.”
Beolgreen gave a quiet laugh and slowly approached the man.
Beolgreen placed a right hand over the man’s head and spoke in a low whisper.
“Speak. Where is Crown Prince Alexander now?”
Dark green mana churned beneath that hand. Like snakes, it coiled and burrowed into the man’s ears and eyes.
The expression slowly vanished from the man’s face. He murmured blankly,
“His Highness is waiting at the Foreign Ministry now...”
“So he knew nothing. What a waste of time.”
There was a crunch, and the man’s head drooped. Beolgreen tossed him aside as if throwing away trash, then slowly descended onto the deck.
“What is all this? Beolgreen, what were you planning?”
Ivan narrowed his eyes.
When Beolgreen said he had provoked Elizaveta to make contact with Alexander, Ivan naturally assumed that the Kalion Archipelago was supporting Crown Prince Alexander and attempting to interfere in domestic affairs.
There had been no other possible conclusion.
Yet Beolgreen had suddenly killed the envoy. On top of that, he was asking where Crown Prince Alexander was?
“The Crown Prince in this city isn’t the real one. Hmm... there is much left to discuss between us, but it is difficult to speak of it.”
Beolgreen opened and closed his mouth several times before frowning.
“It is a prohibition. If you cannot discover it yourself, I cannot tell you. Sadly, mages are those who bind things across a thousand leagues.”
“Why didn’t you tell me from the beginning? If you never intended to conclude a secret agreement with Alexander, then if you had told me beforehand...”
“Then I could not have confirmed your qualifications. Nor would I have known which side you stood on. I thought you were dead. It was necessary.”
Beolgreen shrugged. The surrounding mana was slowly fading.
“There is not much time left. Come to my tower in Kallion someday. You likely will not be able to meet me in person, but... Ivan. Our scout. You are qualified.”
“Qualified for what?”
“To turn the final page of truth. To behold the hands upon this game board. Ah, damn it.”
A crack split across Beolgreen’s face. Beolgreen touched it once, then sighed.
“It is cruel that I cannot even say this much. A mage is naturally talkative, you know.”
“What should I do?”
“Prepare yourself. It seems this game board is that university beneath our feet. Many threads have been laid out below.”
“Prepare...?”
“Those youths are not bad either, but they were not pieces placed on the board from the beginning. They are like... yes, playing cards that suddenly appeared on a chessboard. So pay attention to the chess pieces as well. Take good care of my daughter.”
Beolgreen’s face gradually faded. Just before disappearing completely, Beolgreen looked directly at Ivan and mouthed something.
No sound came out, but Ivan instinctively read his lips.
-Maximilian has not disappeared.
With a small smile, Beolgreen’s mana completely faded.
* * *
The commotion on the deck did not reach the citizens of Pritchenkaya. To them, the warship simply continued floating quietly in the sky as always.
Ivan and the transmigrators were able to descend to the ground with the frightened captain seeing them off. Leaving the wrecked carriage in an alley, Ivan looked over the transmigrators.
A game board.
Cards placed on a chessboard. Should he take it to mean that games with different rules had become mixed together?
What sort of story did they need? What story had been prepared, and what flow was it trying to guide?
Who were the hands upon the game board?
God?
Ivan looked at Eugene, who could use divine magic. Perhaps because the Bestow Courage buff had ended, Eugene wore an utterly exhausted, vacant expression.
“Do you still have that thing called a divine spell slot?”
“Huh? Ah, yes. Yes, I do.”
“Hmm.”
Unlike magic, divine spells were a form of blessing bestowed directly by a god. They were spells carried out through a human body on behalf of a god’s will.
In other words, the phrase divine spell slot practically meant Eugene’s Status Window had been approved by a god.
No, perhaps some god in this damned premodern fantasy world had established a direct communication channel.
Especially considering it even implemented all the verbose details of the Quest Window.
“You all worked hard today. Go in and rest. We’ll meet tomorrow.”
“Uh, big bro. It just ends like this?”
“Tomorrow.”
Ivan looked over the departing transmigrators once, then turned away.
He could not bring them along to the briefing. Especially after this incident, they could not become more deeply involved.
If this had simply been a case of getting caught in the political struggle between the Princess and Crown Prince, it would have been better to take one side and secure a decisive victory.
But after hearing that the Crown Prince in Pritchenkaya was not the real one, this incident had surpassed anything students could handle.
Even more so for children only four years into their transmigration.
How many years had it been?
Ivan thought as he walked through the night streets.
Remembering Colonel Kirillovna’s final appearance, Ivan headed for the Counterintelligence Command.
It was time to meet the Princess.
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Footnotes:
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