Chapter 2 — 의문

Part 2, Chapter 27

A Question

When I followed Mia into the depths of the mindscape—

What emerged at the end of the endless dark was a swamp of shadow.

It was sticky, like someone had poured out black oil, a sight that sparked revulsion just by looking at it.

And the stench wafting up every instant sent a chill down the spine.

“…What is this place?”

No matter how he looked, it didn’t seem related to Harghan.

No—not just Harghan. Mia, the Winter Six—none of them seemed tied to this place at all.

That’s how out-of-the-blue the swamp of shadow felt.

More than anything.

‘I had a place like this?’

This was one face of his own mindscape.

Which only made his curiosity spike.

Even with all the talk about shadows and such, it wasn’t easy to accept that something like this existed inside him.

“Not. Something. To worry. About.”

As if reading Elric’s thoughts, Mia flashed a quick smile and continued.

“Don’t worry. You’re not the only one who has this. I do, Nahatram does, Damir does—everyone does. Strictly speaking, it’s a place we ‘can’t help but have.’”

“What exactly does that mean?”

“You don’t know. People. No—intelligent beings. Their unconscious. Their souls. Are actually all connected.”

“…?”

Elric couldn’t readily grasp that part.

People’s consciousnesses are connected?

“The collective unconscious. Where souls are born. Where souls return. Where the God sleeps. Where the Progenitor’s gaze reaches. Where the Demon God grasped and was trapped.”

“…!”

“Harghan is the gatekeeper who guards that place.”

Thump, thump!

Elric felt, somehow, that he’d just learned a sliver of his house’s secret history the Winter Six had never told him.

Whenever he’d asked about the Progenitor or the old family history, hadn’t they always answered “We don’t know” or “It isn’t time yet”?

And now, for the first time, it felt like he’d been acknowledged—just a little.

“Cross here. Then you’ll be able to meet her. As long as you cross….”

Mia stepped back from the swamp and looked to Elric.

Go on—get in there.

But was it his imagination that her tone sharpened around “as long as you cross”?

Needlessly tense, Elric swallowed dry and slowly stretched out his foot.

Squelch.

The swamp clamped down tight on his foot.

It felt ominous, but he ignored it as best he could and put his other foot forward.

Squelch.

And the moment he tried to move on—

“…Huh?”

His vision suddenly spun, and Elric blacked out.

He hadn’t even met Harghan.

And when he opened his eyes again, Elric was inside a carriage.

‘What the hell was that?’

He couldn’t make sense of it.

If something like that were going to happen, Mia would’ve told him in advance.

『What happened there? This king is asking.』

But neither Mia nor the other retainers had said a word.

‘Was there some condition I had to meet?’

『What exactly happened? Hurry and tell this king!』

[You’re noisy. 【Shut it】.]

『Mmph mmph mmph!』

As if he wasn’t unsettled enough already.

Now there was racket right beside him.

Elric tried to think it through again, but Mephisto’s interference made it impossible to focus.

“Good grief.”

He sighed at Mephisto as if exasperated.

Mephisto shouted something back, but Elric ignored him.

He couldn’t make out the words anyway.

And then scattered memories surfaced.

Not ones he’d experienced directly, but ones his body had gone through.

Memories of King Yulho and the Golden Lion.

‘So it really was King Yulho… to think he could push the Golden Lion this far.’

Both men had kept their ultimate arts tucked away to the end, but what showed on the surface was a dead-even fight.

In that moment—

King Yulho.

And the Golden Lion both looked utterly delighted.

‘No wonder mages and martial artists were so desperate to restore King Yulho’s body arts.’

Given how humans usually sneered at beastkin as inferior, King Yulho’s hard-body arts were that extraordinary.

‘Thanks for the help.’

Elric offered a brief thanks to King Yulho.

Without him, he might have been killed by the Golden Lion already.

Or at least have woken up subdued in the Inspectorate.

『If you need me again, call. It was fun.』

He said it like it was nothing.

But Elric could feel it—

The tangle of emotions underneath.

Likely some regret at not settling the match properly.

‘More importantly… the Golden Lion.’

A sudden thought creased Elric’s brow.

‘He felt… similar to me.’

He was a mage, the Golden Lion a martial artist—there shouldn’t have been anything alike there.

Different way of speaking, different habits, different techniques.

And yet Elric felt a strange déjà vu from him.

Maybe it was just the superficial matches—same blond hair, green eyes.

But Elric couldn’t stop thinking about the Golden Lion.

His instincts told him—

There was some link between him and Mervinger.

‘The Golden Lion had the same reaction after seeing my face.’

But with no real clue connecting him and Mervinger right now, digging deeper wouldn’t change anything.

Elric decided first to deal with the aftermath of what had just happened.

Lowering his joined hands, he asked Tasha,

“Tasha, what’s become of the Hyung Tribe and the people of Huilan?”

“We sent a coded message to the House and have taken in as many as we can in secret. But…”

Tasha scratched the back of her head, frustrated.

“There are too many. We’ll have to release them soon. I’m also hearing a lot of the refugees have already drifted into the Southern Kingdoms’ Alliance, or been taken in by newly dispatched Revolutionary forces.”

She added there were even rumors the veiled leader of the Revolutionaries had been found.

“The leader of the Revolutionaries?”

“Yes. Unlike the rumors before, this one seems to have some credibility. You hear the same thing in a lot of places.”

How curious.

Ever since the Revolutionary Army formed, the existence of its supreme leader had never been clearly known.

Rumors had popped up before.

But every one had proven false.

This one might be too.

But Elric pushed thoughts of the leader out of his head.

There was something more pressing.

‘I’m leaning way too hard on House Nerestra.’

It would be a burden for them too.

At worst, House Nerestra could be branded traitors as well.

In this situation, hiding them was tantamount to defying the Imperial House.

And wasn’t the Inspectorate bending over backwards to channel all the credit to Cromhel?

They could use this chance to put pressure on Nerestra and the Tower—both potential future obstacles to Cromhel’s political ambitions.

If you hand them a pretext for rebellion, you’re in deep trouble.

‘Can’t let that happen.’

After a moment’s thought, Elric called Taihol and Trang from outside the carriage.

“You called, sir?”

“Taihol, do you have a way to contact your people in an emergency?”

“Yes. I do, but…”

Taihol looked a bit startled—how did he know that?—but nodded.

Elric’s certainty came from a simple place.

No people scattered across the world had managed to keep their identity intact like the Hyung Tribe.

Especially considering the oppression they suffered from others.

He was sure they’d have at least one secret network or system to protect their own.

“Then take the clansfolk with you and go east with Trang.”

“The east… isn’t that Mervinger’s domain?”

Taihol’s eyes widened.

“Yeah. Most of it’s still undeveloped, and those who live there are mostly nomadic anyway—taking in refugees will actually help.”

In this era, population was national power.

If they could take in large numbers of Huilan refugees, the domain would flourish.

The Imperial House and the Inspectorate might not like it.

But so what?

‘Whether there’s one rebel or two, it’s all the same.’

In the Empire’s eyes, the eastern mountain tribes were already branded a “rebellious zone.” A little more infamy wouldn’t change much.

‘Besides, the Golden Lion’s already seen my face.’

He’d planned to stay out of sight.

But with that plan shot, he had to find another way—and squeeze every advantage he could.

“I’ll write a letter myself, so there won’t be a problem.”

Taihol looked so overcome he could barely string words together. Beside him, Trang bowed deeply.

“Thank you so much, Lord Elric. Saving us wasn’t enough—you’d even give us a home….”

His voice was so raw it seemed a light tap would spill tears from his eyes.

Elric couldn’t help but smile.

“I think you misunderstand—this won’t be free. As I said, it’s undeveloped land. You’ll have to work hard to survive. And you’ll be helping Lady Trang’s Rhine River Union quite a bit along the way.”

He framed it like he had his own angle too, but who wouldn’t see that was just a clumsy way to hide his embarrassment.

“What does that matter? Frankly, all I have is as good as Mervinger’s to begin with. I’ll be rolling up my sleeves first.”

“Good.”

Elric quickly wrote a letter, handed it to Taihol, and sent them off.

“Thank you.”

“Until we meet again.”

After Trang and Taihol left—

Mephisto, who’d been quiet all this time, suddenly started making noise.

『Mmph mmph!』

[What? Do you have something to say?]

Elric dispelled the spell, curious.

『Seducing poor wretches with nowhere to go just to line your own pockets! Which of us is the real devil here!』

[What are you talking about? I provide a place to live, they till the land. Mutual aid. Two birds with one stone. Crocodile and plover. You don’t know?]

『Your tongue really is your sharpest blade…!』

[【Be Silent】.]

『Mmph mmph mmph!』

Elric muted Mephisto again and closed his eyes.

“Quiet is nice.”

Looking satisfied.

* * *

A masquerade lit by glittering jewels and the richest delicacies.

Through a hall draped in luxury, an old-world melody flowed.

Everyone at the ball wore masks, laughing and dancing.

A man in a fox mask politely saw off the lady in a bear mask he’d been dancing with, then let out a long sigh.

‘What a nuisance.’

He was tired.

He was wondering if he should just drop everything and leave—

A middle-aged man in a blue dove mask approached quietly to his side.

“I have a report, Your Highness.”

“What?”

The eyes beyond the fox mask twitched.

He’d told them not to bring him business here if they could help it.

For him to come anyway meant it was urgent.

The fox mask was the Fourth Prince, Cromhel.

“It’s just that…!”

Seeing the sharp look beyond the fox mask, the dove mask swallowed dry.

He knew very well how unpredictable Cromhel was.

A single misplaced word and it was over.

He reviewed his wording in his head, one word at a time, and calmly delivered his report.

All the things the Inspectorate—every bureau except their own, Bureau 0—had been orchestrating in the shadows for Cromhel’s sake.

A piece of political stagecraft pinning a false crime on Huilan so Cromhel could take the credit for subjugating the demons.

“So. The conclusion?”

Even after learning that such atrocious things had been done in the dark under his name, Cromhel didn’t show the slightest anger.

He simply listened, blank-faced.

That made him all the more terrifying to the dove mask.

He hesitated over how to answer, then could only drop his head.

“…It failed.”

“Failed?”

“Y… yes.”

The instant he answered—

Flash!

Something gleamed, and the dove mask’s right arm spun into the air, severed.

Cromhel had drawn his sword.

Fwoooosh!

“Kya—kyaaaah!”

“Gaaah! M-my arm…!”

Screams burst from all sides at the sudden bloodbath.

Inspectorate agents moved swiftly, ushering the nobles out of the ballroom and sealing Cromhel off from the outside.

Now only Cromhel, the man, and a few agents remained.

None of which mattered.

Cromhel spoke.

“Missions can fail. You can trade on my name and swagger. But.”

He stepped up until he was nose to nose with the dove mask.

A deep fury showed in his fixed expression.

“I will not permit the two to combine.”

Cromhel quietly set his blade to the dove mask’s nape.

Drip.

Blood slid down along a razor-thin cut.

“You will convince me.”

“…”

“If you do, it ends with the right arm. If you don’t, next time your head rolls. Understood?”

Nearby agents flinched.

The dove mask was none other than the Chief of Bureau 1.

Barring Bureau 0, which effectively guarded the Emperor, he was the Inspectorate’s most powerful figure—its de facto head.

And he dared to try and kill him?

Even when Jeraitz was Crown Prince, no one would have dreamed of laying a hand on him.

Cromhel, it seemed, didn’t care in the least.

So they could only panic.

But the Bureau 1 Chief, Black, simply looked between the blade that might cleave him and Cromhel, unruffled.

Then he slowly opened his mouth.

“There was the Duke of ‘Aye’ there.”

“…What?”

For the first time, the eyes beyond Cromhel’s mask changed.

The Duke of Aye.

Only one man was called that.

“Ha, haha. Elric… so that fellow was there?”

A curious note rolled through Cromhel’s laughter.

The Mage Who Devoured Talent