Riders formed up by the Tower of Illusions, led by Captain Vargas. Konrad should've had two more weeks left by their agreement, but Zoltan seemed calm.
"The honor guard's a bit much, but we got this baby ready in time."
He grabbed the codex and transformed into the Green Mage right before him. Only the vinegar smell dampened the superior and arrogant look, but he sure was an expert.
Vargas and he met in the middle, the captain bowing despite knowing this trick.
"Way to scare me," Konrad sighed, staying behind. But the blacksmith looked pale.
"Those bastards. When Lily's out—" He raised his sword. "I'll kill 'em anyway."
Before he'd ask, footmen swarmed in, guarding something—or someone in a loose formation.
Ragged, chained, pariahs swung on their feet.
He didn't recognize their flag, but they could've been a small mercenary band, or—
"Slavers?"
"A penal company," Welf grunted. "Or what's left of the Black River tribe after the council abandoned them. Bandits poking the hornet's nest. Mercenaries burned their villages—"
"But why're they here?" Konrad interrupted. And what was this council again?
"They're meat shields now. The duke must be going somewhere rough," he guessed. "And it doesn't seem like they've brought supplies for a return trip."
True, no supply wagons anywhere. Vargas paid a huge sum for that urgent manuscript on—
"Are dungeons dangerous?" Konrad put it together. "Would one warrant an army?"
The redhead's eyes widened, and he decided to preempt his rash decision by blocking his path.
"They'd stand no chance in that shape," Welf gritted out. "It'd be a slaughter."
Expandable men, like he was before. This place was no different. He couldn't watch them march into their deaths, like he did in his past life, but what could he do?
"Could we clear it?" he probed. The blacksmith pinched his nose, nodding.
"It'll suck without Lily, but it's doable." That was good enough. "But they're always out for more slaves," Welf rasped. "They'd chain me up and Lily, too, if they found her."
That was an issue—or an opportunity.
"Give me your sword," Konrad barked, his brain in overdrive. Welf handed it over with his eyebrows high. "They can't do it if I chain you first. Now calm your face."
He winked, combing his mind for runes.
Static images were easy. They wouldn't make a sound, or look real from up close, but his mana pool gave him no options. He motioned, and chains materialized around the redhead's wrists.
When he moved, the handcuffs didn't follow, and the boy was already dizzy.
"Careful," Konrad warned, steadying himself. "You're a noble's slave now. Mine."
"This'll never work," Welf scoffed, but followed him anyway.
Zoltan still wore his mask, negotiating when he made some noise.
"Oh, Great Mage," Konrad yelled, careful to keep a distance. He caught Vargas and his 'master' by surprise. "I'll volunteer to clear the dungeon. Perfect opportunity for me to gain experience."
The immediate response was dead silence, then the captain's holler.
"The duke's daughter asked for a book, but the Mage's apprentice will do, too."
Gabrielle did? So he should've stayed away? Crap.
"She wanted to greet you when accepting the book herself, but she's sick in her bed again."
Meanwhile, Zoltan looked at him as if he were a complete idiot. Which—
"L-let me talk this over with my student," he stuttered, dragging him back to the tower. There, he pinched his nose, dismissing the illusion. "You idiot, you'll get yourself killed."
His voice was shrill, despite his best efforts to keep it down.
Konrad cancelled the fake chains, too, swaying from the aftermath.
"You take risks for Eytjangard's people, too," he pointed out. "You saw the ragged bunch—"
When he yearned for control, he wanted people like their captors to taste their own medicine.
Was it too early? Sure. But would he go ahead with it anyway?
"Know your limits, Konrad," the illusionist scoffed. "You're too ambitious. Your magic's useless, and dying in a dungeon won't help them." Well, he wasn't wrong, but—
"My magic got the job done, so far." By a hair's breadth.
But he didn't want to wait years until he was ready; his past life gone by in a blur that way.
But of course, his 'master' wouldn't understand.
"Welf knows how to deal with dungeons," Konrad claimed. "And didn't you say I'd be doing well as a sword for hire? Adventurers can't use magic, either, and I've seen monsters before—"
"And almost died," Welf added. Zoltan sighed, opening his arms.
"Okay. And then? You clear the dungeon, and they go back to slavery? Or what's the big idea?"
Well, there was none. Yet. But with a professional illusionist—
"You'd turn them invisible, and—"
"Nope," Zoltan crossed his arms. "Not getting involved. The most I'll do is show you how to create a proper chain illusion, and make it last."
That was better than nothing. The illusionist grabbed the glowing ink, painting Welf's wrist.
"You can attach written runes to a mana source." It didn't seem that different from what he had done so far, except it was physical. "Best to use a silver or gold base, and a crystal in the centre."
Chain links appeared one by one, mimicking reality.
"That simple?" Konrad scoffed. "Can I make a fireball shooting staff?"
"In theory," Zoltan finalized his work, staring at them for a moment. "It'd degrade fast, and you'd have to cast the spell first, so—"
He'd still need the initial mana to pour in. Or someone could do it for him—
Like the captain's amulet. If only he had time and materials to explore the possibilities.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the villagers got them a cart and some food. They didn't want the captives to starve, either. Their chains were real, after all, and their guards grumpy.
Their convoy set out into the night soon after.
"It was ballsy to volunteer, boy." Vargas rode next to them, whispering. "An achievement like this would look great, next to the duke's letter, but you sure?"
Huh. Konrad didn't even think about that. He was way behind in planning.
Like, what'd happen after they cleared the dungeon?
"I wanted to test my progress," he lied, for now. Would he have to kill the captain's men, too?
"Isn't it early? Zol— I mean, the Green Mage told me you're talented, but stay safe."
The captain sounded— eerie.
"You worried about me or your retirement?" the boy scoffed.
"Why not both?" he smiled, not quite reaching his eyes. "You already act like a noble. I didn't know you had a slave, but you'll need retainers, too. If you survive—"
"I'll consider hiring you," he nodded, trying to sound nonchalant. "But I won't hire murderers."
"Screw the Rabid Crows," Vargas leaned even closer. "But blame Lady Gabrielle."
So that was their name. But—
"Why not hire adventurers?" Konrad asked, confused. "And what does she have to do with it?"
Vargas let out another pained laugh.
"Lord Schwertburg has 'political considerations.'" The captain's expression darkened. "And his daughter often speaks of higher planes and the greater good. Martyrdom. I don't know."
"And the duke does anything to please her," the boy assumed.
Was she also a chunibyo? Or was she real trouble, like Lily?
She knew of her, and his guardian warned about Gabrielle— It was getting complicated.
"She requested to hire this scum," Vargas spat on the ground. "Whatever greater good this'll lead to, I hope they'll get what they deserve."
And that sounded like he gave him the green light to deal with them in any way he wanted.
Konrad's grip tightened on the vial of ink. If it worked, the Rabid Crows wouldn't see the dawn.