WeTried Translations

Translator: Joy

Editor: Joy

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Damned Transmigration

Chapter 69

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Fermented soybean paste stew

The person she had doted on, even when the vipers in the Mage Tower had hissed the slur kept man behind their hands.

Arist had never understood what drove them apart two years ago.

People liked to joke that Elena’s transformation began with that friend. A confession, perhaps, brutally rejected?

She never believed Elena would shatter over something so trivial.

The Tower Master, for her part, had been delighted.

‘Elena has finally gone mad for magic,’ she had declared.

The senior 6th-Circle mages had all welcomed the change, too.

In the end, the man from two years ago was forgotten. Elena had been alone for a decade before she brought him into her mansion, and he had only lasted half a year. That was why Arist had never imagined this.

She had pictured a few tears, at most. And why not? Her childhood friend from two years ago was seen with the Salhomun assassin who had quit as her bodyguard and vanished just months ago.

She didn’t know the details, but they were undeniably together, while Elena was left all alone.

The thought was delicious, enough to let her imagination run wild.

She would feel betrayed, wouldn’t she? She prayed for tears. She wanted this wicked, insolent orphan who ignored her so openly to finally collapse.

But Elena did not cry. Whether she felt betrayed or something else entirely was impossible to tell. Standing amidst the crackle of gathering electricity, her face was as pale and terrifying as a corpse’s.

‘Hic.’

Arist flinched, stumbling back a step.

Her only mistake had been to show her the newspaper himself, as news of Yuri and Haryeong would have reached her eventually.

The electrical current around Elena thickened, its tendrils beginning to snake outwards.

“Enough!”

A sharp cry cut through the lounge.

In a flash of blue light, Lacey Yuzha appeared, a crisp white gown stark against the charged air. She planted herself between the two women.

“Using offensive magic against people inside the Mage Tower is forbidden. Elena, have you forgotten something so basic?”

There was no immediate answer. Elena’s gaze locked onto Lacey’s face for a long moment before she clicked her tongue and closed her eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

The shimmering gold in her irises vanished. When she opened them again, her eyes were a murky, flat blue. She bowed her head.

“I’m still inexperienced. My emotions… they got the better of me.”

‘Got the better of you?’ Lacey thought, suppressing a scoff.

Her emotions might have been the trigger, but the hostile intent aimed at Arist and the others had been genuine.

“Elena, are you… are you truly alright?”

“I… I’m fine.”

‘Ah, my head hurts.’

Elena forced the corners of her stiff mouth into a smile.

“I’m sorry, Senior. You told me not to come in today, that I should rest.”

Lacey had more to say, but she swallowed it with a sigh.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. For now, Elena, since you seem to have calmed down, you should head back for the day…”

“Telling her to go back would be a rather cruel thing to do.”

A new voice, smooth and amused, cut in.

Orca had appeared beside them. Dressed in a white shirt and a loosened tie, she smiled faintly and draped an arm over Elena’s shoulder.

“You came here because you didn’t want to be at the mansion, didn’t you?”

“…Yes.”

“Then you should stay here.”

Orca’s smile vanished as she patted Elena’s shoulder.

Her eyes had fallen on the meal replacement stick in Elena’s hand. With a rare frown, she snatched the dry, biscuit-like ration.

“You have a mouth for delicious food. If you only eat this stuff, you’ll go mad.”

“It’s a hassle to prepare meals…”

“If eating is such a bother, then you should move somewhere someone can prepare your meals for you. Alfreon Ascard has offered to provide everything, so why refuse?”

“I like my current mansion…” she began, but the words caught in her throat.

Her lips moved silently for a moment before she managed to force the sound out.

“…I like it.”

A fool could have heard the lie in it.

“If you don’t like the mansion Alfreon would provide, how about you come and live with me?”

“I don’t want that.”

“A quick answer. If that’s your wish, I understand. But don’t eat this rubbish. It isn’t proper food. It will dull your mind.”

Orca tutted, and the biscuit in her hand turned to ash. After that, Elena was all but dragged to Orca’s room on the top floor of the tower.

“Why did Senior Lacey tell me not to come in?” she asked, the question having

lingered.

Orca was her master now, but that hadn’t pushed Lacey aside.

The woman still acted as Orca’s secretary, sometimes even sitting in on their lessons. Elena was grateful for it. If Lacey hadn’t been there, she would have had to serve her eccentric master herself.

“Because we need to talk about your childhood friend.”

Rumours had long circulated that Lacey Yuzha might be a transmigrator, but Orca had never confirmed them. As a result, Elena remained ignorant.

“Your outburst today… it was because of the Orsia Family’s announcement, wasn’t it?”

Elena, about to sink onto the opposite sofa, froze. She took a moment to calm her ragged breathing before finally sitting.

Strands of damp hair clung to her brow and the nape of her neck. A neat cut would solve the problem, but Elena never wanted to cut her hair.

“I saw it, too. A Bishop of the Sect of Chaos, was it? A 6th-Circle mage who deserted the Rudella Mage Tower, I hear. For a group of 5th-Circle practitioners to kill her is quite the achievement.”

“…”

“I knew that Dark Blossom, your former bodyguard, was 5th-Circle, but for that

Yuri fellow to reach it in such a short time is surprising. The talent of transmigrators is formidable, I’ve heard, but his seems to be more than just that.”

“…Yuri isn’t a transmigrator,” Elena finally managed.

Not once, since returning from Logos two years ago, had she ever admitted it. Her master’s claims were pure assumption.

“Are you still telling such pointless lies?” Orca clicked her tongue, loosening her tie further.

“No matter how much you deny it, I believe that boy is a transmigrator.”

“I told you he isn’t…!”

“And what of it? I will think and say as I please. If you don’t want to listen to your master, you’re free to leave.”

At the ultimatum, Elena shot to her feet. She glared at Orca, her eyes wide with defiance, then spun and stalked towards the lift.

“Are you really leaving?” Orca chuckled, amused by her apprentice’s charming little rebellion.

She remained seated, making no move to stop her.

“He could be in danger from now on.”

Elena’s hand, hovering over the lift button, froze.

Orca smiled again.

‘So predictable.’

“It’s only natural, isn’t it? A nobody has started to make a name for himself. What’s more, he has the backing of the Orsia Family. I don’t know if they will become his official patrons, but from the announcement, it seems both the Sword Emperor and the Sword Dragon are quite fond of him.”

“…”

“This world is crawling with losers who have the hearts of snakes, jealous over the most trivial things. Who knows what kind of fangs they’ll find to sink into him?”

“What are you trying to say?” Elena asked, turning back from the lift she had failed to summon.

“I’m saying someone might start spreading the baseless rumour that he could be a transmigrator. If that happens, the Sect of War might get involved.”

“…!”

“They are hounds. They sniff out the scent of suspicion in rumours.”

That was half-true. The Sect of War did chase whispers, but their primary targets were those without a background nor a history. Most transmigrators, after all, arrived as phantoms, inventing new lives and names.

Yuri didn't fit that profile. He had a past, however humble, and his skills were clearly rooted in his training with the Fist Wolf. But this new fame changed things.

‘They won’t move,’ Orca knew.

The Sect of War were not fools. They feared transmigrators, but they were also adept at using them. Even if they did conclude Yuri was one, they would never move against him now. Not when he had just proven himself an enemy of the heretics.

Orca had no intention of telling Elena any of this.

“Eventually, someone will start digging. It wouldn’t be difficult. They could start in that rural town, Oldor, or in Rutlan, where he first gained attention.”

“…”

“The Saint of War is qualified to speak with me face-to-face. Or perhaps another faction will make contact. If someone were to ask me about Yuri, I would be in quite a quandary as to how to answer.”

Orca shot Elena a mischievous smile. By the lift, Elena was gnawing on her lip, glaring.

“Are you going to keep standing over there?”

“…Master, you really are…!”

“I’m aware I’ve said some unpleasant things. But you, my apprentice, have been quite rude yourself, haven’t you?”

Elena’s shoulders trembled.

Orca’s soft chuckle was the final blow. Defeated, she walked back and flopped onto the sofa.

“So, that Yuri fellow is a transmigrator, isn’t he?”

“He’s not.”

“Fine, let’s say he’s not. If someone comes to me and asks, I will say no.”

Elena let out a quiet sigh of relief. A personal guarantee from Heavenly Thunder Orca, Master of the Dersia Mage Tower, was a shield few would dare to test.

“I know you’re mentally unstable,” Orca said suddenly.

Before a startled Elena could respond, she continued.

“Do you resent him?”

“I…”

“I doubt it. You’re just confused.”

Her smiling golden eyes glinted sharply.

“I don’t know your precise feelings for him, but they must be complicated. They can’t be defined by resentment, hatred or anger alone.”

“…”

“That’s why you can’t be honest. Am I wrong?”

Elena couldn’t say a word; Orca was right. She had turned it over in her mind countless times these past two years, but she could never find an answer.

“One day, your friend might get caught up in something dangerous,” Orca said,

tilting her head.

“Transmigrators are fated to. Even with my guarantee, the truth might eventually come out.”

“…”

“What’s more, by killing a Bishop, he has made himself a target for the heretics. The Sword Dragon of Orsia, the Young Leader of the Demonic Cult… haha, compared to those two, the orphan from Oldor is by far the easiest target.”

“I’ve… I’ve killed heretics, too.”

“Small fry. The most impressive was a Priestess, wasn't it? A Bishop is on another level entirely.”

Elena could only hang her head.

“Why did he make an enemy of them? I couldn’t possibly know.”

“…”

“Does he want to go home? It’s a famous story, isn’t it? Kill the evil god and the Goddess of Order will recover her strength and send the transmigrators back.”

‘Go… back?’

Elena’s eyes trembled.

‘No.’

“It’s also said that the one who kills the evil god can make a wish to the Goddess. It seems non-transmigrators can make a wish, too. Perhaps that’s what he’s after.”

A wish granted by a god would defy all mortal limits.

‘A wish…’

“Whatever the reason, he will be in danger. He may have exceptional talent, but talent alone has its limits. Most transmigrators hit a wall at the 5th-Circle. Going beyond that requires more.”

Orca’s voice was steady, hypnotic.

“Effort is a given. You must be willing to risk your life. Fear of failure, of death, will stop you. You will never break through the wall if you only walk the safe path. That assassin is skilled, but she can never truly protect him.”

“What… are you trying to say?”

“What do you think?” Orca asked, smiling.

“When he finds himself in danger, Elena, will you be able to save him?”

“I…”

“No one in this world knows you are a genius better than I do. The 5th-Circle, a lifetime’s goal for others, is merely a stepping stone for you.”

Her heart began to pound, a heavy, thunderous rhythm that pushed the headache away.

“If you feel like you’re going mad, then go mad for magic. Forget alcohol. Rely on magic. All the problems that torment you can be solved once you reach its pinnacle.”

The words continued to fall, each one reshaping Elena’s world.

“Become strong enough that you are the only one who can save him. Then he will never be able to leave you again. Become a being so powerful that your presence alone is his shield. Do what that assassin could never do. You, Elena, will do it.”

“H-How…?” Elena’s voice was a tremor.

“How strong do I have to become… to do that?”

“As strong as me,” Orca replied, her smile widening.

“No, Elena. You can become stronger than me.”

Her master stood.

“And I will help you.”

The child was unstable, Orca Dersia was no fool. She had known it from the moment she brought Elena from the orphanage twelve years ago.

The girl possessed a talent for magic that surpassed even the transmigrators, but she had been left to fester in the worst possible environment. The Oldor Orphanage had been a pit of insects, and Elena, an immature genius, had been their favourite target.

As the young Elena slowly became aware of her own power, she must have wondered what gave those pathetic creatures the confidence to torment her.

When Orca first met her, the girl could already handle mana with startling proficiency. She had only demonstrated levitating a ball, but that same quantity of mana, directed at a child, would have killed them as easily as squashing a fly.

Yet Elena had endured the bullying, time and again, and each time her friend Yuri had come to her aid.

The girl had a void inside her that could not be filled which Orca had seen and cultivated. What she wanted was not a common genius, but one driven by a fanatical obsession.

She gave Elena the Heindergamsurname and adopted her, but offered only the affection of a Tower Master. Praise came only with achievement.

Elena’s needy personality, honed by the competitive fires of the Mage Tower, became deeply ingrained with a craving for validation.

And now, behold.

She had only lived with the current Yuri for six months, yet the child was shackled by it, by the memory of affection and validation it represented. It had become the kindling for her madness.

To Orca, the Elena of this moment was utterly adorable. The transmigration of her friend had not been part of the plan, but the seeds she had sown twelve years ago had blossomed into a satisfyingly spectacular flower.

With her golden eyes shining, Orca extended a hand to her student.

“…”

Lifting her head, Elena blankly took it.

She had her answer.

Her head no longer hurt.

***

“Gaaack…”

A man in a white short-sleeved shirt with the number 7 on his back clutched his chest and fell to his knees.

Clatter.

The iron ball dropped from his grasp and rolled across the floor.

“Are you alright?” a woman attending him nearby asked, rushing over.

“I’m… fine.”

“Your expression says otherwise! Sir Moonlit Reveller, what happened? Were you injured on the battlefield?”

“No, it’s not that. Wasn’t hurt at all…”

“But out there, the Saint of War and the Polar Point…!”

“Those old geezers are strong, sure, but I’m not weak either. I wasn’t injured, you know?”

“Pardon?”

“Let’s try some noise beat.”

Chuk-sin-doo uttered the incomprehensible phrase and shot to his feet.

Boom! Kaboom!

He had returned to the barracks to rest, but the explosions from the distant battlefield still shook the ground.

“Ah…”

He checked the newspaper in his hand again, his shoulders trembling.

“Hey, Selpione.”

“Yes.”

“There’s someone I really, really want to see, but I can’t. What should I do?”

“Wouldn’t you just go and see them…?” Selpione asked, tilting her head.

Chuk-sin-doo shook his.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s doing just fine on his own.”

He crumpled the newspaper, which vanished in a flicker of light, and composed his expression.

Whoosh!

The Madorido on the floor floated up and settled on top of his foot.

“He’s doing well. I can’t go and mess things up.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about…”

“Gotta let things happen naturally.”

He had been planning to rest, but the news had sent a rush of heat through him.

“Sir Moonlit Reveller! I’ve prepared the bean soup you asked for. Please, have at least one spoonful…”

“What I want isn’t bean soup, it’s fermented soybean paste stew.”

This version lacked the proper aroma.

“Remake it. This time, cook it with the heart of my own mother.”

Selpione’s face twisted, but Chuk-sin-doo didn’t see. He was already dribbling the Madorido with one foot, sprinting back towards the battlefield.

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried