Chapter 280 - Summon (2)
Inside the Fallen Wyvern Tavern, sound vanished in an instant.
An oblivious guest's intrusion.
The group who had been enjoying the violent scene froze, smiles still stuck on their faces.
Eyes shifted slowly and fixed on one spot. Brody, who had been providing the spectacle until just moments ago, disappeared out the tavern door.
Creak. Creeeak...
The tavern door screamed softly.
Brody did not return. Baldar, the bald man staring blankly at the entrance, opened his mouth.
"…A Mage?"
Yes, that had been magic just now.
The moment they realized it, the atmosphere shifted drastically.
The sudden appearance of a Mage was surprising enough, but what troubled them more was a single rising question.
Why, of all times, had a Mage appeared today, here, in this tavern where Frankie's Gang and Iron Fist had gathered? And not just any Mage, but one they had never seen before in the autonomous territory.
Now that they thought of it, barging into the tavern without hesitation might have been planned.
Whatever the case, it was far too suspicious to brush aside lightly. Too coincidental to dismiss as mere chance.
So they decided not to think of it that way.
That was the natural judgment in the back alleys of the autonomous territory.
Srrng.
Frankie drew two short scimitars and aimed them at Verden.
"Hey, Mage. What the hell are you doing here? Who sent you? Huh?"
"I came on a recommendation."
"This bastard's pretending he doesn't know? Do we look like fools to you? Damn it, I'm asking who sent you to whack us!"
Frankie barked.
Even as he revealed his hostility, there was fear hidden in his voice.
'Do they think I was hired to kill them?'
Verden found it absurd.
They were the ones who had picked a fight first, not him.
He didn't feel any need to correct their misunderstanding, but it seemed they weren't interested in listening anyway.
Frankie and Baldar glared at him.
The two locked eyes, then nodded at the same time.
They decided the uninvited guest had to be dealt with before any negotiations could continue.
With their judgment aligned, they acted immediately.
"Break that bastard's arm and drag him to me."
"Don't kill him. We need to know who sent him."
At the orders of the two bosses, their men simultaneously drew their weapons.
Without hesitation, they stomped the floor and charged in. Their belief was firm: a Mage might have a fragile body like a normal man, but was still more dangerous than sharpened swords or axes.
In other words, if they got in close, they could take him down easily.
Noise rose behind.
Verden stood up and spoke to the waitress.
"I'll order again. Bring me your best dish."
"S-sir?!"
Verden turned his back.
The tavern owner and waitress tried to stop him, but it was already too late.
Right after, the gray-robed Mage collided with the rushing mob.
Kwa-jik! Kwaaaang!
With booming sounds, screams rang through the air.
Those struck fell gasping in one blow, some thrown outside like Brody and never returning.
Weapons stripped of their owners clattered and rolled across the floor. Those who tried to flee didn't make it out either.
One-sided violence.
The tavern owner, staring dumbfounded at the sight, finally spoke.
"…I'll go cook."
"M-me too, Father."
The two retreated into the kitchen.
They lit the fire and oiled the pan.
The aged meat sizzled as it seared quickly, but they didn't worry about the food going cold.
If anything, they were only anxious about keeping the customer waiting.
***
Hihihihing!
The driver lashed the reins hard, and the horses screamed.
The black carriage, at its limit of speed, tore straight through the main street.
"Kyaaak!"
"W-what the hell?!"
Citizens screamed and stumbled back at the sight of the runaway carriage.
A guard patrolling nearby only watched. After all, they couldn't stop it anyway, and if they tried desperately, they'd just end up dead.
Since the lord didn't care for the people, neither did they devote themselves.
Through such a territory, Padreld raced.
Curses flew from the mouths of passing citizens, but he had no time to care.
'Lord Asher has already gone north.'
Of course, he would have gone to the Fallen Wyvern Tavern.
It was the only place Padreld had personally recommended. There was a good chance Frankie and Baldar might have picked a fight without realizing who they were up against, leading to a clash. He didn't need to see it to know how that would end.
"Damn it…! But why are they negotiating in a tavern, of all places?!"
His expression twisted as he clenched his fists.
If they wanted a quiet talk, they should've holed up somewhere in the back alleys, not crawled out into the open. It wasn't like they were advertising a negotiation.
Padreld's frustration boiled over, to the point he found himself resenting the two.
At last, he arrived before the tavern.
He yanked the reins, halted the carriage, and leapt down.
But the situation had already unfolded.
"Crazy."
Members of Iron Fist and Frankie's Gang lay sprawled outside the tavern.
They weren't dead, nor did they bear major wounds, but all were unconscious.
By contrast, inside the building was eerily quiet.
Padreld felt a chill and carefully stepped forward.
He pushed open the worn wooden door and entered, and the sight he expected was laid out before him.
"..."
Baldar, slumped against the wall, head hanging.
The Iron Fist, harder than stone, was spotless, not a speck of dirt on him. Frankie's twin blades were nothing more than junk on the floor.
Dozens lay collapsed, including those two. Nearly half looked like they had fainted trying to flee out the tavern.
And yet the tavern itself showed no damage.
Not a single table was broken, nor a single scratch on the old walls that hadn't been there before.
The last time, without even using a powerful spell like
Padreld slowly rolled his eyes.
There was Verden.
Before the tavern owner and the waitress, the blue-eyed Mage, seated in the corner of the bar, had already finished his early dinner.
"As you said, the taste was quite good, Padreld."
Verden emptied his wine glass.
He pulled out a few bills, paid the tab, and rose from his seat.
The tavern owner and waitress silently bowed. As Verden approached, Padreld gave an awkward smile.
"Haha, I'm glad it was to your liking. But this...."
"I sat at an empty seat and suddenly they picked a fight. I kept it simple, so they'll wake up later."
He had not killed them.
Verden was no butcher.
"More importantly, what of the task I gave you?"
"Ah, yes. Most of it is handled without issue. I rented a mansion classified as the finest in the autonomous territory for Lord Asher to reside in, and also secured a carriage for his use."
Padreld swallowed once, then continued.
"And among the nine organizations of the back alleys, six have expressed a positive intent toward the assembly I requested in two days' time. That left three as a problem... but two of them have just been resolved."
"If by two, you mean...."
Verden gestured toward the unconscious gang members.
Padreld nodded and dragged Baldar and Frankie by their collars.
"These two here, they're the heads of those organizations."
"..."
Verden furrowed his brow.
***
Verden was acutely aware of his goal.
He had set out the steps to reach it, and was preparing and acting one by one from the bottom upward.
But in the middle stood his promise with the Ark.
If he succeeded in overcoming the ancient trial of the Demon King's Tomb, Verden would be allowed to belong, in part, to the Ark.
A special condition, exempting him from the Ark's obligations while still being granted the trial, and rewarded for it.
Of course, he would not be freed from all obligations.
One was to attend the Ark's assembly once, and the other was to save humanity should it face the brink of extinction.
The latter was practically nonexistent. Such a situation was unlikely to occur so easily.
What Verden focused on above all was the former.
'The time remaining until the Ark's assembly begins is about a month.'
He did not yet know how the Ark would approach him. He had never even been told the details of that assembly.
Perhaps he would ride an airship capable of spatial teleportation to a remote place.
Even if not, there was no telling how long it would take.
Now, he could not ignore it.
It was a promise, and thanks to it he had risen to his current realm.
'That's why I tried to make contact with an organization opposing the Bohemirn Magic Tower.'
But a problem arose.
It was the level of the autonomous territory.
Until now, Verden had met and worked with outstanding talents in every field.
Pale of the Duchy of Riviant had sold Verden the information he wanted, and arranged requests that allowed him to build both experience and wealth.
And Pale's junior, Perne of the Kingdom of Estiria.
Back then, and even now, his first impression had been untrustworthy, but afterward he had achieved great merit as an informant working solely for Verden.
Those two, no matter what anyone said, were unparalleled assistants to Verden.
'Of course, it's unfair to compare them with Pale or Perne....'
Even so, this was not it.
From Robert's information and Padreld's mention, he had thought they might be decent, but in person, they were far beneath expectation.
At the very least, he had assumed they would be on the level of Roafra's powers, or Padreld himself.
"To think the forces ruling the back alleys of Midros Autonomous Territory are nothing but thugs."
Battle power could be overlooked. Character was unnecessary.
What Verden needed was information on the incidents occurring within the autonomous territory.
But the problem lay in the grasp of the organization and the quality of its members.
When it had been in their favor, they obeyed Frankie and Baldar's orders, but once the tide turned, they collapsed instantly.
They were like grains of sand. Comparable even to a group of ordinary citizens.
What quality of information could such people possibly bring back? And how long would it take to collect?
Of course, it would be disappointing.
At the mansion of the autonomous territory.
Padreld, watching Verden's expression, hastily tried to patch things up.
"S-still, Baldar and Frankie are locals here, their ears are sharp. Perhaps it's worth giving them a chance..."
"Now that I've come this far, I intend to make use of them. But it's better not to expect much."
His voice was merciless.
Padreld swallowed and bowed his head slightly.
"...I will not disappoint Lord Asher again."
With that, Padreld withdrew and left the mansion.
He was heading to the place where Frankie and Baldar were.
He had to make sure those two fools understood what they had done today.
Of course, unlike Padreld thought, Verden was not in the least angry at them for attacking him.
The tavern quarrel had been a refreshing change, so he felt no displeasure.
"..."
Verden gazed outside, lost in thought.
After some time, he decided to revise the direction of his plan.
The enemy hid in the dark.
For Verden, who sought them, there was no one who specialized in information, and not much time.
'Then the only way is to drag them out.'
He would abandon the high level of secrecy he had used when working with informants.
Instead, he would move on a large scale, collecting vast amounts of less accurate information.
From judgment of the information to the actions taken.
Verden resolved to intervene personally in the entire process, boldly stepping forward.
And two days later.
The forces of the autonomous territory were assembled in one place.
You can read more chapters in organised way on my website:- https://revengernovel.com