Chapter 288 – Carnival…? (1)
The slums, located west of the autonomous territory.
Inside an old, abandoned building sat a swordsman with a metallic mask covering his face.
In a corner covered in cobwebs, a man sat clutching a worn sword. In his head, memories of the past replayed endlessly.
───Adrian, one day you will become the greatest swordsman of the Central Continent.
An aged master patted his shoulder as he spoke.
The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, and the gentle smile, tickled his heart.
Even though his prime had long passed, fading like the setting sun, he always embraced him with the same unchanging warmth.
To the master, Adrian was both disciple and son.
Though not bound by blood, he was family for whom he would even give his life. He was also his dream, and his pride.
───Please, trust only me, Master.
Adrian felt the same.
To him, the master was like a father.
Having lost his parents to demi-humans and left alone, it was his master who raised him. A benefactor who had given him life. That grace could never be repaid.
So, he strove.
He swung the sword to become his master's dream and pride.
'Then one day, they came to the cabin where I lived with my master.'
Three uninvited guests.
───That aura. You must be one of the Central Continent's top four swordsmen.
For them to come all the way to this rugged mountain range, shrouded in mist that disturbed the senses, it could not have been with good intentions.
Though their identities were hidden, their hostility was clear.
Were they ordinary fame-seekers, or was there another purpose?
Whatever it was, it didn't matter. After all, cutting them down would end it. Whether the opponent was alone or a group, he was confident he would not lose.
'But I lost.'
An overwhelming defeat.
Unbelievable, but inevitable.
The opponent was a Transcendent.
───Heavenly Sword, Adrian Chambers. They said you were a swordsman evaluated as near-Transcendent… you're a bit lacking compared to what I expected. Perhaps I needn't have stepped forward myself.
Balrog Bessias, Tower Master of Bohemirn.
Said to be among the top three even among tower masters in sheer power. He had only heard the rumors, yet recognized him at once.
For there was no one else who could so freely wield such powerful magic circles.
Cough, cough!
Blood surged up his throat.
───Surely… I hold no grudge against Bohemirn Magic Tower…!
───Such petty ties of resentment are meaningless. I simply needed a suitable material for my next experiment, and you were chosen. A simple reason, nothing complicated.
Experiment? What did that mean?
As he pondered, a sound came from behind.
───Adrian!
His master, who had gone hunting, returned.
He immediately grasped the situation, hurled aside the magical beast on his back, and drew his sword. With a furious charge that seemed sharp enough to cut by sight alone, he struck forward.
───Hmph, a washed-up warrior.
The elders of Bohemirn Magic Tower.
The two who had come with the tower master stepped forward.
Kwaaaang!
Sword aura clashed with elements.
The cabin collapsed, the forest shattered. Shockwaves rang out that shook the entire mountain range.
The fierce battle did not last long.
Though of similar age, the difference in ability was vast.
Warriors grow weaker as their bodies age, but mages, whose strength deepens with knowledge, are comparatively free from decay.
One past his prime, the others at their peak.
And there were two of the latter. The outcome was already decided.
The master was mercilessly defeated.
His right arm and left leg blown apart by the elders.
A fragment of his broken sword flew through the air, landing before Adrian.
───Master!!!!
───Ad… ri… an…
His body moved before his mind.
With trembling hands, he seized the broken blade, mustered the last of his qi, and hurled it with all his might.
The strike pierced through the elemental barrier, grazing the elder's hair.
Even though his stamina had long since been exhausted, such was its power.
His indomitable spirit, which no physical pain could suppress, was well-known.
That was why Adrian had been chosen as material.
Balrog, who had been watching with interest, stroked his beard.
───This… gives me a better idea. I was only going to take Chambers, but that old swordsman will be useful too.
Mana woven in the air descended.
A mysterious magic circle formed, binding Adrian and his master. At the same time, his consciousness fell into darkness.
And when he awoke, he faced it.
An unbearable hell.
Yet, even recalling the past, no emotions stirred.
The sky-blue eyes behind the mask were still hollow. Having lost his own will, he was no longer human.
Just then, a presence approached from outside.
Adrian, ending his recollection, rose to his feet.
Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock!
A noisy knocking came as the doorknob turned.
Mashi, one of Aldamia's Clowns, poked his head inside.
"Ah, apologies, unintentionally kept you waiting. The preparations took a while, it being the first Carnival in a long time. But nighttime makes for a better spectacle anyway, so no harm done, eh?"
"Location."
Frivolous chatter was a waste of time.
The goal here was already set.
The Lord of the autonomous territory, the branch of the Magic Tower on Volcanic Island, and the Larrian Magic Tower branch… to Adrian, only the command etched into the magic circle mattered.
Mashi pointed out the window.
"See that lord's castle? Right now, inside, the branch executives of the Magic Tower are dining with the Lord of the territory. At this late hour, instead of sleeping, eh. But thanks to that, it's convenient for you. No need to run around elsewhere."
"..."
Adrian moved.
As he stepped toward his destination, Mashi called after him.
"We'll send the signal in dazzling fashion, so you can start then! We'll draw all the attention, so don't you worry!"
No answer came.
The swordsman had already vanished from sight.
"Click, so cold and silent. Not even a half-decent word out of him. Feels like you could pull his teeth out alive and he wouldn't scream."
"Oh? Now that makes me curious. Maybe I'll try it sometime."
Devoni , fully prepared, approached.
The floor creaked beneath his weight, laden with fat.
Mashi waved his hands quickly and shook his head.
"Ugh, not me. I've no desire to die. Besides, it wouldn't be fun. Entertainment only thrives with the reaction of the audience, don't you agree?"
"Hmm, true enough."
They nodded and chuckled together.
Casting aside unnecessary thoughts, they turned their minds to the festival about to begin. In the mirror, they checked their thick makeup once more.
Touching up the faded spots.
"How do I look? Not bad, right?"
"Very good. How do I look?"
"Flawless. Preparations are complete, and the makeup is done, so all that's left is to move. Ahhh, I truly cannot wait…!"
The two could not hide their excitement.
Within every human society, there have always existed unseen classes.
Take a wolf pack for example, the lowest-ranked wolf may be cast out by the group, or rejected for looking different from its kin.
It is an instinct to solidify one's rank, and to climb higher.
Humans are no different in this regard.
In particular, those regarded as mutants become the prime example.
Whether due to personality, or physical structure, those born without normalcy, abandoned even by their parents and left unprotected, suffered a world harsher than any other.
Torment akin to torture.
Hunger so severe their bones jutted out.
Winter's chill that froze them to the marrow…
Most who received no help lost their lives just like that. For them, eternal rest was surely a blessing.
But not all were like that.
Following the instincts inherent in life, some clung desperately to survival, running from the fear of death.
Among them, there existed a rare few whose minds, twisted under extreme stress, grew even more grotesque than before.
Strangely, they did not hate humans. On the contrary, they loved them.
Pain and murder. Child, adult, elder.
The only beings who could give them that electrifying ecstasy across their whole bodies, were their own kind.
Aldamia's Clowns.
For them, massacre is a virtue.
"Now, let the Carnival begin!"
Midros Autonomous Territory.
The city, shrouded in darkness, lit up brightly.
***
A gray veil covered the night sky.
Because of the thick, dark high clouds, the world felt even darker.
The air was dry enough to ache the throat. Winter's chill bit colder than usual.
Midnight passed, and dawn arrived.
At the very hour of the promised day with the Lord of the territory, Verden was asleep. Only his breath lingered in the chamber, without so much as a toss or turn.
That was when his slumber was disturbed.
"...?"
A strange sense stirred.
He could not define what it was, yet the senses of his body, enhanced by the Ring of Rune, reacted faintly.
Verden opened his eyes and left the bed.
As he approached the window, a faint light tapped against it. Not the pale moonlight, but a yellowish hue.
Neither was it the glow of a magic stone lamp.
Shhhk.
Verden drew back the curtain.
"...What is that."
The western district of the territory.
Though far from the mansion, beyond the reach of sound, the distance was swallowed by flames.
And not only that—an explosion erupted, and a building became tinder. The fire roared, hungrily seeking its next prey.
Indeed.
The territory was burning.
***
It was not only Verden who realized the anomaly.
Ethan of the Society, Rebecca, and the smuggler Padreld.
All three, who happened to be awake, reacted first.
They had never exchanged words with one another, yet as if by promise, they went straight to the mansion's master.
Bang!
Padreld roughly opened the door.
"Sir Asher! Forgive me at this late hour, but the territory is…!"
"I see it already."
Verden gazed outside.
With arms crossed, he asked in a low tone.
"As I recall, that's the slums over there. Is there anything that could cause such a great fire?"
"Not to my knowledge. Unlike the east, there aren't warehouses stacked with oil barrels there. The buildings are old, so fires spread easily, but a blaze of this scale is the first I've seen… On the way here, I ordered my subordinate Medpin to investigate the cause."
There was no cause for an explosion.
Which meant it had been done intentionally.
Ethan spoke.
"If you require, we can help. Especially Rebecca, her skill with water-based magic is quite high. She may not cover the entire district, but she can at least contain the spread. Isn't that so?"
"M-me? Well, yes… if you want, I can help."
Rebecca gave a small nod.
With a stiff smile, betraying her nervousness.
"..."
Verden silently watched the flames.
Extinguishing fire was not so difficult. He could simply summon a torrential rain from the heavens to smother it.
Even if it were an oil fire.
'But something is strange.'
Something was off, to say the least.
Many factions had gathered in secret within the territory.
And now, without warning, a fire of unprecedented scale had broken out. Accidents may happen in an instant, but why now, of all times?
His blue eyes shifted sideways.
At the end of his gaze lay the lord's residence. Unlike the chaos outside, there was an odd stillness about it.
There were no coincidences here.
"…Ethan, Rebecca. I will release the magic circle. You two, along with Padreld, suppress the fire and find the cause."
"Yes, understood. But Sir Asher, you…"
"I have something to confirm. It seems the fifth faction has arrived."
Ethan and Rebecca froze.
It wasn't hard to guess which group he referred to.
"No way…"
"Questions later."
Clack.
Verden stepped out the mansion window.
In an instant, he summoned Orient into his hand. Soaring into the sky, he flew at full speed toward the heart of the city.
His destination, the castle of the territory's lord.
Unexpectedly, the appointed time had come early.
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