WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: LilGuyBlastoise
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ I Made Magic Easier by Changing the Formula ◈
Chapter 32: Ruber Village
──────
The banquet hall was in the headquarters annex.
A long table.
Only two chairs.
“I hate formal meals, so I sent everyone away. Are you disappointed?”
“Not at all. I prefer this too.”
“I thought you would. Sit.”
The marquis sat across from me instead of at the head of the table.
Servants carried over plates.
A whole roasted suckling pig.
Potatoes braised in butter.
Steaming red soup.
Finally, wine was poured into our glasses.
Even its color was different.
“Eat before it gets cold.”
“Thank you for the meal.”
I did not hold back.
I cut.
Dipped.
And took a bite.
The juices burst in my mouth.
‘...Delicious.’
My hands moved faster.
The marquis watched me with his glass in hand.
“You eat well.”
“It tastes even better when it’s free.”
“Hahahaha!”
The marquis slapped the table, making the plates jump.
“I like you. Mages pick at their food like birds, then talk forever.”
“I like eating.”
“That’s what makes you different from other mages.”
When the marquis emptied his glass, a servant refilled it.
“You said you’re leaving tomorrow.”
“Yes. My parents are in the south.”
“Where in the south?”
“A village called Ruber.”
The marquis frowned.
“A backwater without even a garrison.”
“Yes. That is why I need to go.”
“True enough. Times are what they are.”
The marquis cut off a piece of meat and swallowed it.
“The Kran bastards will stay quiet for a while. Bellat stopped them, so they’ll be considering their next move. When they can’t get through the front, they dig in from behind.”
“What about the robed person who cursed the waterway?”
“We’re pursuing them. There are no rat holes in my city. Their head will be hanging soon enough.”
The marquis spoke lightly.
That made it all the more chilling.
“War...”
He swirled his glass.
“Young people these days know nothing of war. It was different when the north erupted twenty years ago.”
“Were you in the north as well, Your Excellency?”
“When I was young. I wandered around trusting in nothing but my sword.”
He gave a short laugh.
“Back then, even mercenaries earned their pay. The Red Bear of the North... Have you heard of him?”
“Do you mean Braen, the Red Bear of the North, the legendary mercenary from the northern front twenty years ago?”
The marquis looked at me in surprise.
“You know Braen?”
“I read about him in a book. There were no details, only that he was a legendary figure at the time.”
“That’s right. It was before you were even born.”
The marquis put down his glass.
“He had no title and no pedigree in swordsmanship. But he was built like a bear. When he spread his arms, they could hide an entire warhorse.”
The marquis raised his own hand.
“And his hands. When he grabbed an enemy helmet with hands as big as pot lids, steel crumpled like walnuts. I saw it with my own eyes.”
“Just as the book said.”
“After a battle, he would be drenched red in enemy blood from head to toe. That’s why they called him the Red Bear.”
“The enemy must have feared him greatly.”
“Is that even a question?”
The marquis snorted.
“When he took the field, that entire front stopped moving. He broke through positions an entire knight order couldn’t breach, then came back carrying the enemy commander’s head. Commanders of the regular army poured drinks for a commoner mercenary. Those were the days.”
“The book said the mercenary looked terrifying as well.”
“That’s right. It was a face you could never forget after seeing it once.”
The marquis traced a slanted line across his cheek with one finger.
“From the corner of his left eye to his jaw, there was a scar split like a bolt of lightning. That was his mark. No one knew who had inflicted that scar or how. He never spoke of it until the end.”
The marquis’s gaze sank into his glass.
“Then one day, he disappeared. At the height of his career, without a word. No one knows whether he lived or died.”
“.......”
“At a time like this, we could use another monster like him.”
The marquis drained his glass.
‘It’s strange hearing the story of a legendary mercenary I only read about in a book.’
I listened with interest to the marquis’s tale and finished the potatoes.
As the meal was nearing its end.
“Your Excellency!”
The banquet hall doors suddenly opened.
An adjutant hurried inside and leaned close to the marquis’s ear.
“What is it?”
“We caught the person behind the curse on the waterway, the one in robes.”
The marquis’s eyes flashed.
“Did they talk?”
“Well... They tried to kill themselves by biting down on poison hidden in a molar.”
“......”
“But such a trick would never work before us. We subdued them before the poison spread and got some information through torture.”
The adjutant presented a sheet of parchment.
The marquis took it and scanned it.
It was covered in dense writing.
“Is this everything they confessed?”
“Yes.”
The marquis’s expression darkened.
“They served under Carmilla of the Kran Vanguard Legion?”
“Not only the robed person. Cassel was also an agent Carmilla planted in Bellat.”
The marquis’s face went cold.
“Carmilla. That witch is still alive.”
His voice was low.
Something old and buried lay beneath it.
“I failed to take her head during the western campaign ten years ago... This time, I’ll sever that stubborn neck.”
The marquis read over the parchment again.
“But why is this all? The information is far too thin.”
“Their body was weak, so they died before we could get them to reveal everything.”
“Did I not tell you to handle them gently?”
The marquis frowned.
“How rough were you to make them die already?”
“I was as gentle as possible, but they were so frail...”
“It wasn’t that. Your hands must have been too heavy.”
“My apologies.”
“This is too little. Carmilla wouldn’t have planted only one agent. She must have sent scout units too, but there’s nothing about their movements. Without knowing their infiltration routes, we can’t pinpoint the main force’s location.”
“We have yet to find any trace of the scout units.”
Scout units?
“Your Excellency. As it happens, I have something that appears to belong to a scout unit.”
The marquis looked up.
“...What?”
I took two leather cases from my subspace and placed them on the table.
Several sheets of parchment were inside them.
The marquis checked them and his eyes widened.
“W-Where did you get these?”
“On the way here, I fought two Kran scout units. I dealt with them and collected their belongings. These were mixed in with them.”
“Two scout units?”
“I was lucky.”
“Hahahaha! Lucky?”
The marquis slapped the table.
“Do you know what Kran scout units are like? Even when several squads of Imperial elites go after one unit, half of them don’t return. Of course, they’re nothing before my Blood Butcher Corps.”
The Blood Butcher Corps.
I had heard they were the Empire’s strongest unit, made up of Marquis Hargen’s personal knights and most elite soldiers.
The marquis was clearly very proud of them.
“Still, taking down two of them alone is impressive. You’re skilled in combat as well as magic circles?”
“I only caught them off guard.”
“Even so, that’s an extraordinary talent. You’re already a battle mage experienced in real combat. Do you truly need to go to the Amos Magic Tower to study magic?”
“It was only a stroke of luck. I intend to build real skill.”
The marquis raised his glass.
“You’ve performed another great service. Thanks to you, we can trace the enemy’s infiltration route backward.”
He handed the leather cases to the adjutant.
“Give these to the analysis team. Figure out everything before tonight is over. Find out where Carmilla is hiding.”
“Yes, sir!”
The adjutant hurried away.
The marquis looked on with satisfaction and said,
“The elders in the Imperial Capital hate granting titles to commoners like you. They’ll look for any excuse to object.”
He smirked.
“But now, on top of solving Bellat’s waterway crisis, you have the achievement of eliminating two scout units. They’ll have no excuse left.”
The chance that the petition would be accepted.
It had risen considerably.
“Rest easy. I’ll make sure this achievement is included in my report.”
The marquis patted my shoulder.
“You worked hard today. Go get some proper rest, Baron Hans.”
“Thank you. And thank you for the meal, Your Excellency.”
The night wind was cold when I left the annex.
My stomach was full.
Truly full for the first time in a long while.
‘It was a hectic day.’
I had shared a table with a marquis and left being called a baron.
It still felt like I was having some unreal dream.
Even so, my steps were light.
* * *
The next morning.
The first thing I saw upon leaving the inn was the lively scene around the well.
There was no trace of the grim ration line where sharp shouts had flown over a single bucket of water.
A long line still stretched from the well, but everyone was smiling.
Savory smoke once again rose from the enormous chimney of the bakery, which had gone cold for lack of water.
“They say the price of water dropped again today!”
“The cursed bloodwater is gone, and it’s returned to normal water!”
“Oh, yesterday was awful. We can finally live again.”
“Haha... I was wondering whether I should leave the city. What a relief.”
The lively voices of the people passed by me.
Listening to their conversations with satisfaction, I left through the southern gate.
‘At last, I’m going to Ruber Village.’
* * *
Inside a dim tent.
Whenever the oil lamp flickered, the map hanging on the wall warped.
It showed the Empire’s south.
Blood-red pins ran in a straight line from Rowen to Bellat.
A woman sat before it.
Her face was covered by a mask, and only her sharp eyes were visible.
She was Carmilla, commander of the Kran Vanguard Legion and one of the Kingdom of Kran’s ten greatest geniuses.
“I have received word that Bellat’s purification magic circle has been restored.”
“......!”
“Cassel, whom you planted there, fulfilled their role. The scroll was opened precisely, and the curse was cast properly.”
“And yet it was undone?”
“Yes.”
Carmilla’s eyes gleamed ominously through her mask.
“Do you know how many years I spent devising the formula for that scroll?”
“I do. That’s why it’s even harder to believe.”
The robed person kneeling before her spoke carefully.
“Even you said the elders of the Magic Tower would need at least a month of work on this Spell Formula. I never imagined there could be someone in the Empire who could undo it in a day.”
“Three years.”
She rose from her seat.
“I split the connection points into seventeen locations. I mixed in false ones so that if anyone mistook one for the real thing and touched it, the curse would bite into the main body and explode. I designed it so that one mistake in the order of release would end everything.”
Her gloved hand pointed to Bellat on the map.
“They undid that in a single day? Does such a mad genius truly exist in the Empire? And in Bellat of all places?”
“...My apologies.”
The kneeling robed person lowered their head even further.
“However, there is a more urgent matter.”
“Speak.”
“The reconnaissance records carried by the two scout units that were recently wiped out appear to have fallen into Marquis Hargen’s hands.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Blood Butcher Corps, Marquis Hargen’s elite unit, are on the move.”
The robed person trembled.
“If we don’t withdraw now, even our escape route will be cut off.”
“...Withdraw at once.”
Carmilla bit her lip as she spoke.
“It’s frustrating, but it can’t be helped. Holding on when all your cards are exposed is something only amateurs do.”
“I will pull back the main force immediately.”
She clenched a broken quill, and it crumpled in her palm with a crunch.
“Three years. Three years of my work, undone in a single day... What kind of monster is this, and where did they come from?”
The sound of grinding teeth leaked out from behind her mask.
“There is no time. We must withdraw quickly.”
“Let’s go. This debt... I’ll collect it someday.”
The tent sank into silence once more.
* * *
Three days after hiring a carriage south, it stopped at the foot of a mountain near Ruber Village.
“The carriage can’t go any farther. You’ll have to walk from here to the village.”
Having received the round-trip fare in advance, the driver turned the horses around.
The dust settled, leaving me alone on the road.
A signpost stood at an angle.
Ruber Village.
The arrow pointed toward a narrow forest path.
It was barely wide enough for a single cart.
‘Just as I heard. The village is deep in the forest.’
Dense trees covered the sky.
Mossy rocks, the damp scent of soil, fallen leaves covering the ground.
‘A forest like this should have quite a few demon beasts.’
But there were none.
Not a single one.
Birds sang overhead, and squirrels darted past my feet.
‘That’s strange.’
Rustle.
Then the bushes shook.
What I saw between them was...
‘A wild boar!’
Not a demon beast boar.
Just an ordinary wild boar.
It was fat enough that its back gleamed.
‘It looks plump and delicious.’
I imagined it roasted whole.
It would yield several times more meat than the suckling pig from yesterday’s banquet.
‘It’ll make the perfect gift.’
I moved a fingertip.
[Wind Cutter]
A blade of wind shot forward.
Slice!
The wild boar fell without making a sound.
Thud.
I opened a fold in space and pushed the entire boar into it.
‘The village isn’t far now.’
A short while later, Ruber Village came into view atop a gentle hill.
“There it is.”
A peaceful rural village.
A log palisade surrounded its entrance.
As I approached the wall, a sharp shout came from the watchtower.
“Stop! Who goes there!”
The person drawing their bowstring stared at me sharply.
I took off my hat and raised both hands.
“I came to see my parents in the village.”
“Your parents? What are their names?”
“My father is Carter, and my mother is Roni.”
At my answer, a middle-aged man’s eyes widened.
“Carter and Roni? Wait, now that you mention it...”
He studied my face closely.
“Could you be that Hans living in Rowen?”
“That’s right. I’m Hans.”
Only then did the drawn bowstring lower.
Murmurs spread across the wall, followed by the sound of a heavy bar being removed.
Creeeak.
When the wooden gate opened, people poured out.
The suspicion on their faces changed to welcome and curiosity.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Hans.”
“Come in. You had a hard journey getting here.”
“How are things in the north? You must have stopped by the military city of Bellat.”
Then a booming shout came from inside the village.
“Move aside! My grandson has arrived, so why are you all talking so much?”
Everyone flinched and split to either side.
“Hahahaha! Do you recognize me, grandson? Of course not, you’ve never seen me. But I knew you at once. You look half like Carter and half like Roni.”
An old man with white hair, built like a bear.
Bronze skin, thick arms, and an overwhelming presence that made it hard to believe he was over sixty.
‘This is... my maternal grandfather.’
A blood relative whose face I had never known stood before me like a great wall.
Strangeness and emotion rose together in a corner of my heart.
“Let me get a closer look at your face.”
My maternal grandfather walked over and grabbed my shoulder.
His hand was as large as a pot lid.
It covered my entire shoulder.
‘...Why is his hand so big?’
I was startled.
Then a story I had heard at the marquis’s banquet came to mind.
The legendary mercenary Braen, who could crush steel helmets like walnuts with pot-lid-sized hands.
‘It can’t be, can it?’
I looked him over again without thinking.
A bear-like build?
Yes.
Hands as big as pot lids?
That too.
And beneath the white hair, a scar split like lightning from the corner of his left eye to his jaw...
“C-Could you be B-Braen...?”
The name slipped out before I could stop it.
My maternal grandfather nodded with satisfaction.
“Hohoho... How admirable of you to know your grandpa’s name. Did Roni tell you? Yes, that’s right. I’m Braen, your maternal grandfather.”
“......”
Good heavens!
Even his name was the same.
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