WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Dionysus
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Chapter 258: Beneath the Flowing Water (1)
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Runtel, the Kingdom of Magic, was a great power.
Not just a great power either, but a superpower rivaling the strongest nation on the continent, the Holy Kingdom.
Abilius had spread its influence through formidable Paladins, a powerful priesthood, and faith itself.
Runtel had built its national strength through powerful high mages and the profits from selling magical devices.
If someone asked what set these two kingdoms apart most, plenty of people would point to one particular fact.
"Runtel's high mages are famous for keeping to themselves. They rarely ever leave the kingdom."
The Commander of the Twilight Order, Oswaldo Odone, spoke with a grave expression.
He was right.
Runtel's power came from its mages, and a mage's power came from knowledge and records accumulated over long years.
That was why the three houses, including the royal family of Runtel, had remained famous for centuries. No other house could match their accumulated history.
Of course, a genius battle mage named Perry Martinez had recently emerged...
'But would Runtel's mages ever acknowledge him? Not a chance.'
Recalling the arrogant faces of a few Runtel-born mages he'd met, Oswaldo Odone continued.
"Runtel's mages generally avoid mingling with others, especially people from smaller kingdoms like Hale. And I've heard House Slick is the most sensitive of them all when it comes to bloodline and background."
"Complete opposite of the Holy Kingdom, huh."
"It is. Unlike Abilius, which looks past every other condition and judges only by faith... Runtel is extremely closed off. There's probably some reason behind it..."
The Commander, who'd been leading the conversation, fixed his gaze steadily on one person.
The one under that gaze, Airen Farreira, didn't seem flustered.
He'd already guessed he might be the reason himself.
"Is it because of my brother and me?"
"...Ah, right. It could be because of you as well, Miss Farreira."
The Commander nodded at Kiril's words. His response came half a beat late, but her point made sense.
Everyone's expression stiffened.
Closed off, prideful, authoritarian, that was Runtel.
And House Slick was known as the most overbearing presence within it.
'And if they came riding a palanquin that needed sixty-four bearers... it's possible Ephrein Slick himself, royal son-in-law of Bisau, came in person. This is going to be a headache.'
A Grand Mage ranked among the continent's top ten had shown up to a gathering hosted by minor kingdoms that could be blown away by a stiff breeze.
All to meet the Farreira siblings, promising young talents who'd been making a name for themselves lately.
What was his intent?
Hostile?
Friendly?
Nobody could say for certain either way.
All the Commander wanted was for the banquet to pass without incident.
While he was turning that thought over, Baron Harun Farreira spoke in a low voice.
"Kiril, this is just your father worrying needlessly, but..."
"Ah! Seriously! Do you think I'm some ten-year-old kid?"
"...I haven't even said anything yet..."
"Don't go picking fights for no reason. Keep your temper in check. Wasn't that the lecture you were about to give?"
"Ahem."
Baron Farreira cleared his throat and looked away from his daughter's gaze because she was right.
Watching that, Kiril's brow creased slightly, annoyed.
But she didn't push it any further.
She let out a sigh, shook off the irritation, and grumbled.
"I'll stay quiet. Or maybe I'll just say I'm sick and rest in my room."
"Mm, that seems a bit much..."
"Well, if you're really that worried, I'll do it."
She wasn't just saying it either.
Kiril genuinely had it in her to fake being sick if it came to that.
Part of it was worry that she couldn't rein in her own hot temper, but the bigger part was that she simply didn't want to be anywhere near House Slick's mages.
'...Their whole vibe was the worst.'
She thought back to her time in Cesar Duchy.
Nothing about the two elderly high mages from House Slick had sat well with her, not their demeanor, the atmosphere around them, or the looks in their eyes.
They had looked upon those around them with neither goodwill nor hostility, treating them with an empty indifference...
"Anyway, I'm not going to cause trouble, so don't worry!"
"Ha ha, worry? I never had any such thought to begin with!"
The Commander said, his voice a touch exaggerated.
Honestly, he had been a little worried, but hearing her say that eased his mind some. He gave a hearty laugh and glanced over at Airen.
'No need to worry about Master Farreira.'
A trust so strong it surprised even him, a steadiness he could lean on.
A faint smile kept tugging at his mouth.
* * *
"Whew, huff, whew, huff. Sir Oswaldo, nothing's going to go wrong, right? Right? Nothing will happen, will it?"
"...No, Your Majesty. Nothing will happen."
"Whew, whew. Right? I think so too. But what am I supposed to do about my breathing? It just keeps getting faster. Hm? What should I do?"
'Turns out the real problem wasn't House Farreira. It was His Majesty all along.'
Watching the King of Hale spill out an endless stream of anxiety, Oswaldo Odone quietly sighed to himself.
Not that he didn't understand it.
The King had always been a timid man by nature.
Even though Hill Burnett, Oswaldo's Vice Commander, had told him dozens of times that there was nothing to worry about, he hadn't believed it and had secretly sent Oswaldo to House Farreira to check for himself. So it made sense that he would feel pressured by the other kingdoms, which had desperately gathered people to flaunt their national strength.
But Hale Kingdom had nothing to be ashamed of either.
If anything, it had plenty to spare.
The promising Sorcerer, Kiril Farreira.
The Sword Master, Airen Farreira.
At the Commander's urging to look at the two of them, the King turned his head. His expression softened.
"Haa, huff, a Sword Master, a Sword Master, imagine that! A kingdom as small as ours, with a Sword Master, and a young one at that... hiik!"
But the calm didn't last.
The moment he laid eyes on the delegations of the Four Kingdoms gathered for the pre-banquet hunt, and beside them, House Slick's massive palanquin, the King of Hale found himself overwhelmed.
The Queen, standing at his side, took his hand and held it tight.
"It's all right, it's all right."
"Y-yes? It is, isn't it? Whew, it'll be fine?"
"Of course it will. Hasn't everything gone smoothly so far? It'll end without incident, and we'll go back to our ordinary lives. Now, go on and sound the horn to open the hunt."
"Y-yes, right."
Baroooooom-
'...You didn't have to blow it yourself.'
The Commander wore a pained expression, watching the King blow the horn himself instead of ordering the trumpeter to do it.
Small mercy, though: the other kingdoms' delegates were too tense themselves to notice the King's own nerves.
Watching the beaters move forward, the Commander turned his gaze back to House Slick's palanquin.
Its sheer scale, like a moving palace, was impressive enough on its own. But what struck him more was that all sixty-four bearers beneath it were mages.
"...Hyah!"
The Commander of the Twilight Order spurred his horse forward slowly.
He shook his head hard as he rode, trying to clear his mind of it.
If they were going to stay quiet, he hoped they'd stay that way to the end. Better yet if they never came out at all, the way things had been so far. That was his quiet hope.
And not his alone.
The delegates from the other kingdoms, including Bisau Kingdom, carried much the same wish as the Commander.
...Trouble arrived about an hour into the hunt.
"Hm."
"........."
The palanquin's window, closed the entire time, opened, and Ephrein Slick sat there calmly, taking in the scenery outside.
Everyone tensed.
Just because he'd stayed quiet until now didn't mean he'd stay that way going forward.
A few people even moved out of his line of sight entirely, afraid the powerful figure from Runtel might pick a fight or show some kind of malice toward them.
But Ephrein Slick did no such thing.
No, he simply had no interest in anyone else at all.
He yawned lazily, savored the autumn breeze for a moment, then snapped his fingers.
Two of the sixty-four bearers holding up the palanquin climbed inside, and the door shut. Both were women.
A short while later, moans that belonged more to the bedroom than anywhere else began drifting out.
"........."
"........."
Looking back at records from the era when slavery still existed, one detail comes up again and again.
Nobles, in the central mansions built in the middle of wide fields, would often have sex.
It wasn't some perverse thrill from being watched.
They treated their slaves as no different from dogs, cattle, or horses, not as people at all, so it never occurred to them to care whether an open window let others see, or whether the sounds carried outside the estate walls.
That was exactly how Ephrein Slick behaved now.
At least, that was how several of the people gathered here saw it.
"...Hm."
"Ahem, hm."
More cutting than malice, more bitter than mockery, the sheer disregard drew a cough out of someone.
Someone else was simply relieved his attention hadn't landed on them.
Not that there was no discontent at all. But nobody dared step forward to call out his behavior.
The mood made the hunt even more uncomfortable, and time crawled by slower than ever.
Then, a while later.
"Your Majesty, the beaters are driving the game this way. Please prepare yourself."
"Oh, is that so... hm! Quite the sizable boar! Very well, I'll show them what I can do!"
Calling it a competition was generous. This gathering was really about the Four Kingdoms fostering goodwill among themselves.
Because of that, there was almost no real element of competition, and an unspoken rule had carried through so far: each person took their turn in order, loosing an arrow at the chosen target.
Just then, the massive palanquin, silent ever since the earlier commotion, quietly settled down onto the ground.
Soon after, the door opened, and Ephrein Slick stepped out, bow in hand.
Whoosh, the loosed arrow streaked powerfully through the air.
Thwack-
Whether it was the influence of magic or simply raw natural strength, no one could say.
But two things were certain.
Ephrein Slick's arrow struck the approaching boar dead on.
And he had ignored the King of Hale's turn entirely, not even recognizing that he had cut in line before the banquet's host.
The mood in the field turned cold once more.
"........."
"........."
"........."
In the heavy, sinking silence, a few people watched the King of Hale with something like fascination.
He looked utterly at a loss.
Normally, they might have felt a bit of smug satisfaction seeing a rival kingdom's king humiliated like this. But not now.
Sonan Kingdom.
Köln Kingdom.
Even the delegates from Bisau Kingdom, who had House Slick's backing, felt a strange sympathy, or rather, a sense of kinship, toward the King of Hale.
And that was as far as it went.
Not one person voiced any complaint to Runtel's Grand Mage.
"Grand Mage. I'm sorry, but keeping to one's turn is common courtesy."
Everyone, that is, except one person: Airen Farreira.
"Huh..."
The Commander of the Twilight Order was startled.
He wasn't the only one. A great many people wore just as shocked an expression, staring at Master Farreira.
But even more eyes turned toward the powerful figure from Runtel, Ephrein Slick.
"........."
"........."
The Grand Mage paid no mind to the attention pouring onto him.
The Sword Master paid no mind to the eyes fixed on him either.
The two of them stood still as figures in a painting, staring at each other for a long stretch of time.
It was Ephrein Slick, the one who'd been called out, who spoke first.
"Have you ever considered coming to Runtel?"
Before the crowd could even register surprise at the out-of-nowhere offer, Airen Farreira answered in a firm voice.
"I have no intention of doing so."
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