WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

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◈ The Inept Mage’s Infinite Regression

Chapter 53

Tobira City was large enough to rival Yurmus City. It functioned as a commercial hub, connecting Cora and the capital city of Kardien, because it lay on important routes going north to Yekatan and west to Yurmus, making it a key diplomatic location. And with so many travelers passing through, its back alleys had likewise expanded.

Within these back alleys, illegal yet lucrative businesses were tacitly tolerated. The city guard captain taxed these operations under the table, while those running the illicit enterprises, and the merchants who funded them, squeezed “protection fees” out of each other in turn. Currently, the dice-gambling parlors were the hottest attractions in Tobira.

Personally, Ethan expected Foen Palmize to have already changed locations. It seemed a bit too brazen to run off with a family’s assets only to set up shop in a gambling den a mere two days away.

“He’s either incredibly bold or incredibly idiotic.”

Most likely, Foen believed the Palmize domain was abandoned. In wartime, inheritance disputes got complicated and typically involved neighboring lords and the local ruler, all of whom had more pressing matters right now. Foen was likely hoping the whole theft would be swept under the rug. That said, if even one person from Palmize made occasional trips to the city and enjoyed gambling, they would eventually spot him.

Upon entering the gambling hall, a mishmash of foul odors and the stench of liquor hit them full-on. Everywhere they turned, they could hear the clatter of dice inside cups, groans and bursts of cheer, hushed voices sharing gossip, people alternately cursing their luck and pleading for leniency from the house, and people jumping up in search of someone to lend them money. They even heard a few people start fights only to be hurled out by the giant bouncers. The place was pure chaos.

Boen looked cowed the moment they stepped inside, but Ethan took it in stride; he’d grown up in this kind of environment as a child in Charasen. Spotting a scar-faced operator, Ethan went over and said, “I’m looking for someone named Foen Palmize.”

The man gave Ethan a quick once-over, then silently jerked his chin toward a particular patron. Foen’s appearance matched exactly what “Fat Johny” had described in his note: a lanky man with a permanent scowl and two gold rings on his fingers.

Ethan was about to head over when the operator said, “No fights in my joint.”

“I know. We’ll keep it quiet, just want a chat.”

Boen, clearly uneasy, sidled up to Ethan and asked, “What’s the plan? We probably can’t reason with him. If he insists on holing up here in the gambling den, what do we do? Do you have some strategy in mind?”

“Strategy? Nah. Just walk over and tell him to stand up.”

“What?”

“Go on.”

Despite his misgivings, Boen approached Foen and politely told him to get up. Distracted by his dice game, Foen reacted irritably, standing almost by reflex.

“Hey…” he began.

But Ethan cut him off with a swift punch to the solar plexus. Gasping for air, Foen collapsed to the floor. Some nearby gamblers jumped to their feet in alarm, but Ethan ignored them, grabbed Foen by the scruff of his neck, and dragged him toward the door. Boen followed, feigning a calm he did not feel.

The gambling-hall operator heaved a sigh and called after them. “Hey. Didn’t you hear me?”

“He’s a thief, liable to lose a hand according to the law.”

“He’s still my customer. If customers can just get dragged off, who’ll gamble here?”

“Then let this make up for it.”

Ethan pulled out a handful of copper coins, enough to match a few days’ wages for a journeyman worker, and handed them to the operator, who pocketed them with a shrug.

“You’re a man of reason, I see.”

Outside, Ethan turned to Boen. “Easy, right?”

“Couldn’t we have just bribed the operator from the start?”

“Then he’d try to haggle, saying it’s not enough. Or, if we offered too much, he’d think we’re suckers and ask for more. In these back alleys, it’s all about nerve. You have to throw the first punch.”

“I’m learning a lot, that’s for sure.”

Foen, who was just starting to regain his senses, tried to rise. “Who the hell are you…?”

Ethan kicked him back down and crouched beside him, drawing a dagger.

“Count Saikal sent me. Seems you ran off with the family money from the Palmize estate.”

“Count… Saikal of Cora? Wait a minute. I am Palmize! That estate money is mine. What business is it of yours?”

“They petitioned Cora for help, so the good count lent a hand to a neighboring estate in need. Without inheriting Palmize, you’re no longer a ‘Palmize.’ Were you planning to hire mercenaries and join the war with that money? But then, why are you gambling?”

“I don’t want to spend my life rotting in that rathole. I’m going to make real money!”

“Hey, that’s a fine idea… but if you deserted the estate, you should’ve earned your own capital. Not that you’ll have a hand to count coins with before long.”

“What?”

Ethan turned to Boen with a vicious grin. “Boen, grab this guy’s arm. Let’s do as we were ordered and chop off his wrist.”

“Aaargh!”

Foen started screaming at the top of his lungs, making enough of a commotion that a patrolling squad of city guards immediately noticed. From their perspective, a pair of thugs was tormenting a helpless citizen, so no explanation could save Ethan and Boen from being taken into custody. They weren’t cuffed since they surrendered willingly, but being hauled off to the guard station was not a pleasant experience. To make matters worse, the guards initially viewed Foen as the victim, which made Boen anxious.

“This sure is an experience,” Boen muttered.

“Relax. I spent a lot of time here when I was a kid,” Ethan said.

“What sort of childhood did you have?”

While they chatted, someone else entered the interrogation room. Ethan immediately recognized that the newcomer wasn’t part of the city guard. His attire was much too fine. He wore a stylish cut of cloth, a one-shoulder mantle, a neatly ruffled linen collar, and a dashing hat with the brim folded up on both sides and topped with a peacock feather. He also had well-groomed facial hair.

He smiled and said, “I hear somebody’s been throwing my name around.”

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Ethan was a bit surprised, but this was one of the outcomes he’d considered. He rose and offered a formal greeting. “You must be Count Saikal. Delighted to meet you. I am Ethan of House Charasen, and this is Baron Palmize, Boen. I invoked your name to frighten a thief. My apologies for not consulting you in advance.”

“Ah, yes. I’m Boen.”

“Oho.” Count Oslima Saikal gave Ethan an intrigued look. “Indeed, I am Oslima Saikal, the Count of Cora. You don’t seem surprised to see me here. Did you know I was in town? You look awfully composed.”

“I heard that Cora fell. If you want to raise reinforcements, you’ll need help from other nobles. You’ll also have to negotiate additional supply contracts with merchants. With the Undying King having halted his advance to reassemble his forces, I assumed you’d be doing everything you could right now.”

“Then why borrow my name?”

“Well, the current Baron of Palmize is brand new to the nobility and knows little yet. As for Foen, he threw away his chance to inherit that title in favor of becoming a gambler. I suspected simply citing Boen’s authority wouldn’t scare him. Hence, using your name.”

“Let’s see what the Baron of Palmize himself has to say.”

“Yes, sir?” Boen said.

“You’ve come to join the war, have you? If you’d brought your troops, word would’ve reached me, so you brought no troops at all?”

“No, sir.”

“His Majesty will be sorely disappointed.”

“I intend to fight with only myself and a fellow mage. We’re both battle mages.”

“Battle mages?”

“Here’s a letter of recommendation from Professor Rivielton Fabier of Yurmus Magic Academy.” Boen handed over a neatly folded letter.

After skimming it, Oslima returned it and headed for the door. Ethan and Boen remained in the interrogation room, but the count glanced back. “Why are you just standing there? Come along. Oh, and Baron Palmize…”

“Yes, my lord?”

“I’ve already taken the money that rogue stole from you. Pick it up from the guard captain.”

“Yes, sir.”

∞

Count Oslima Saikal had lost half his soldiers and his territory to the Undying King, yet he displayed neither fear nor discouragement—he radiated confidence. Someone unfamiliar with him might even think he was on a winning streak.

Boen turned to Ethan and whispered, “Is he just putting on a show? Or does he really not grasp his situation?”

“Neither. Nobles like him tend to be optimistic. He’s probably set on recapturing his domain and winning the war. I’m sure he has all sorts of plans to reach that goal.”

“But the war isn’t looking good. Since the Undying King reclaimed Cora and halted his advance, the other nobles have been dragging their feet on forming an alliance. They’re worried about antagonizing the Empire and losing trade deals. Plus, winter is coming. Nobody wants to pay the upkeep for an idle army through the cold season. That’s probably the Undying King’s strategy.”

“They’re not fools, they know all that. And Count Oslima has actually fought the Undying King’s forces, he’s here in Tobira trying to rally the other lords. His confident bearing will sway quite a few of them.”

Ethan and Boen waited in a guest room inside Tobira’s inner citadel for Oslima to finish meeting various nobles. Boen was pessimistic, Ethan was hopeful. It turned out Boen was right.

Oslima came to their room, laughing bitterly. “Looks like everything’s going just as the Undying King wants.”

“What will you do now?” Ethan asked.

“By spring, I’ll be bankrupt. If I can’t keep my soldiers, I have no hope of retaking my castle. I’ll lose my title as well.”

“You can’t hope to beat eleven thousand men holed up in that fortress with only your thousand,” Ethan pointed out.

“The Empire doesn’t really want to keep ten thousand soldiers idle. They can afford it, but word is Margrave Yumuran is personally footing the bill, and that friend of mine might be ruined by spring despite having a perfectly good domain.”

Oslima just laughed. Ethan found him difficult to humor.

Adding to Oslima’s reasoning, if the Undying King truly meant to reclaim every inch of the old Ysoren Kingdom, he might move his army in winter. In that event, even a thousand soldiers could accomplish something. If they kept winning battles, even the King would have to provide additional support. That seemed to be Oslima’s plan.

He unrolled a leather map.

“The question is, where will the Undying King march next? North? West? South? My knights and mages see equal odds all around. If we could just catch him off guard somehow…”

“Count,” Ethan said, “if it’s for victory, would you employ any means necessary?”

“At this point, yes. Even with a coalition, it’s unclear whether we can stop the Empire.”

“What about dark magic?”

At that, Oslima chuckled.

“Only the Empire and the Mage Council fret over dark magic. Sure, there are some hidebound nobles too, but I’m not one of them. The dark mage who allegedly ruined the world lived eons ago.”

“I can use dark magic to see the future, enough to know where the Undying King’s army will head. Would you be willing to deploy your troops in advance, trusting me?”

Oslima frowned slightly. “And if you’re wrong?” he asked.

“I’ll stake my life on it,” Ethan replied.

Oslima nodded. “Then tell me where they’ll attack next.”

Ethan pointed to the southern region on the map. “They’re going south, to disrupt the forming alliance.”

Oslima believed him, but Ethan was wrong. The Undying King marched north, into the Kingdom of Yekatan.

Humiliated, Ethan was set to be executed, but he Loaded first.

∞

The point to which he loaded was a month earlier, near the end of the school term, but Ethan didn’t bother changing much of what happened. It was still worth letting Boen inherit Palmize and them confronting Foen in Tobira because first impressions mattered. Besides, that extra month gave Ethan time to train his swordsmanship, breathing technique, and some primordial magic.

This time, Ethan was ready. He wouldn’t be embarrassed.

“Then tell me where they’ll attack next,” Oslima repeated.

Ethan pointed to the northern edge of the map.

“They’ll move on Yekatan. The Undying King thinks taking Cora is enough for now, and nobody expects a winter campaign, so nobody there is prepared for him.”

Because of that proclamation, Ethan and Boen were able to join Oslima’s command staff.

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