Chapter 404 – Promise
'So this is death....'
Returned to his true body, Verden lightly rubbed his neck while sitting.
Until now, he had crossed the threshold of death several times, but this was the first time he had experienced being killed so directly and indirectly.
It wasn't particularly painful. All that happened was his consciousness flashed.
Still, the fact that he had taken a fatal wound and died helplessly to the giant, without even resisting once, didn't sit well with him.
Even if it had been only his mental body, it was the same.
To Verden, weakness itself was a crime.
'Well, fine.'
As Ignacia said, the experience as a mental body was nothing but an illusion. To wallow in the unpleasant aftertaste apart from what remained in memory would be foolish.
Labyrinth of Ants.
Even if Verden had not intervened, the future might have been similar to what it was now.
Perhaps because he had interfered, Rovellin had failed to obtain the dragonbone.
But it didn't matter.
What was important was Rovellin's survival, and the fact that Verden had not stood by idly.
'And the plan isn't over yet.'
The auction participants would return to Gargant in three days.
Those who managed to escape the labyrinth would be treated, given rest, and then sent back to the districts where they resided.
No matter who had obtained which item, it was both a warning and a courtesy from the Transcendent, Ignacia, telling them not to attempt anything foolish.
Anyway.
'There's no more danger.'
As that thought crossed his mind, tension eased with a sigh, and deep fatigue surged over him like a rising tide.
Revenge and rescue.
Both were matters too important to Verden to ever allow failure.
"I'll rest for a while. Wake me if anything happens."
"Yes, understood."
Adrian personally opened the door.
"You've worked hard, my lord."
"You did well too."
Verden nodded.
***
Three days later.
The rare magical item [Face of Deception], received as payment from the Marquisate of Esperanza in the Kingdom of Estiria.
Disguising his face with it, Verden stepped outside.
***
News spread across the great city that the auction hosted by the Transcendent had reached its end.
The Scales of Ignacia.
Many participants had not returned, but not a small number had survived.
Among those survivors, a rare few carried artifacts or precious magic items back to their factions.
Of course, to ordinary citizens it was of little consequence.
People bustled about the lively streets, busy celebrating the end of the festival.
"Heh heh heh, how merrily they dance about."
In a corner of such an alley sat an 'old beggar' in a shabby brown robe.
His face was hidden under the ragged hood, but the long white beard protruding outward hinted at his age.
"Truly delightful yet distasteful, amusing yet dull. What should I do with this choking feeling in my chest? Tell me, do you know how to ease this lump of a heart?"
A passing tourist flinched in surprise.
"M, me? I don't know..."
"Tsk, as foolish as you look. How can you not know the truth, that Transcendent or not, all is meaningless? Ooh, Lord Luas."
Though insulted to his face, the tourist could not reply.
The old man spouting nonsense was simply too gigantic...
Even while hunched over, his seated height reached the tourist's chest, quelling anger automatically.
And around the huge old man's neck gleamed a golden cross, displayed boldly.
'The Church of Luas, and a madman.'
Yes, a fanatic beyond doubt.
Deciding it was best not to get involved, the tourist quietly stepped back. But the old man was too busy mocking the world to care.
───!
At that moment, Rovellin passed between the old man and the tourist, her red hair whipping violently in the wind.
The street was crowded, thick with people.
To avoid causing a stir, she flew across Gargant's rooftops in search of deserted areas.
Tat-tat-tat!
It had been only four days since she met the man named Alan.
Even though he was from the same Bohemirn magic tower, even though Rayshen had sent him, she felt nothing special. Rovellin's sense of belonging to the tower itself was faint.
Even so, she had to check.
Whether Alan was dead or alive... that was her duty to confirm.
Just as it had been on the battlefield against Black Hour.
And she found him.
"I'm glad you're safe, Lady Rovellin."
Alan stood on a shaded rooftop.
The wound from being pierced by the glaive was gone without a trace.
By all appearances, he was in perfect health.
Clench.
At his overly calm demeanor, Rovellin briefly clenched her fist, but that was all.
She knew well that scolding him again for his reckless actions would go in one ear and out the other.
Rovellin faced Alan.
"Your body."
"No problem. I escaped through the open space at the last moment. I nearly died, but luckily we both survived. More importantly, is Arril safe?"
"...Yes, safe."
Rovellin let out a shallow sigh.
"As long as you lived, that's enough. Report to Rayshen. Even if we didn't obtain the dragonbone, we still have to make a formal report."
"Ah, about that. Lord Rayshen has already departed."
"What?"
"As you know, because of the mission assigned by the tower master... and since his purpose at the Scales of Ignacia was achieved, he said there was no reason to remain in Gargant any longer."
Purpose?
Rovellin tilted her head.
Having participated in the labyrinth herself, she had no idea what he meant.
Whoosh.
Alan inscribed a concealment magic circle, hiding them from prying eyes.
Then, from the spatial bag at his waist, he pulled out something curved like a crescent moon.
A massive bone, dragonbone.
Rovellin's eyes widened.
"Wh, why is this here...?"
"After you escaped, I disguised myself as a corpse until the exit opened. Then participants carrying the dragonbone came by."
Those participants Alan and Rovellin had ambushed.
Their party had used multiple spatial scrolls, clearly pursuing the dragonbone.
They had said so themselves.
"And then, when other participants rushed in and fighting broke out, I used the chaos to secretly steal their spatial bag and slip away. I was fortunate in many ways."
It couldn't be dismissed as mere luck.
It felt far too deliberately orchestrated.
Still.
'It's genuine.'
Rovellin examined it closely, touched it—it was without doubt the bone of a dragon.
Though it seemed a little different in shape from what she had seen at the opening ceremony... surely it was only her imagination. Unless this was a fake, Alan's story had to be entirely true.
As was only natural.
Rovellin judged rationally.
"Lord Rayshen told me to bring this back to the Bohemirn magic tower, carefully so that no one notices. And when you report to the tower master, please do not mention me."
"Why is that...?"
"Because Lord Rayshen is the most important. So just tell the tower master that Lord Rayshen put in great effort. I beg you."
Loyalty to the magic tower.
At a glance, it might look noble, but in truth, such excessive devotion was a common sight.
It was a principle of action Rovellin disliked.
Yet this time, she could not deny it. Biting her lip in silence, she nodded.
"Fine, I'll do that. But there's a condition."
Without hesitation, Rovellin tossed a book, forcing it into Alan's arms.
A book filled with magical sigils.
It was an unregistered magic tome obtained from the golden treasure chest of the labyrinth.
"This is...."
"You're a mage, of course you wanted it. Don't give it to Rayshen, you register it and use it, no matter what. You deserve it."
Perhaps it was meant as a kind of payment.
Alan hesitated for a moment, then yielded to Rovellin's insistence.
He bowed his head deeply.
"Thank you."
"Enough, no need for thanks."
Rovellin took the dragonbone and left immediately.
Though Alan added a farewell, telling her to be careful, no reply came.
She leapt down to the ground and walked the streets.
"My lord."
From a tall building nearby, Adrian, who had been waiting, descended onto the rooftop.
Alan... in truth, Verden disguised, removed the [Face of Deception].
"I've made you use two precious dragon materials because of me. I will repay this debt."
"Do not mind it. Without you, my lord, I could never have possessed them anyway. If you need anything in the future, please tell me at once."
Verden had not obtained the dragonbone in the Labyrinth of Ants.
So why did Verden have a dragon's rib?
The reason was simple.
From the beginning, there had been two dragon ribs.
The materials taken from the Bone-Relic Dragon totaled fifteen pieces.
When divided among the subjugators, the distribution was as follows.
Verden, 1.
The Church of Luas, 6.
DarkWarton, 4.
Adrian, 2.
Leira, 2.
Among them, ribs were more numerous than other parts, thus less rare, and individually of lower value in terms of use.
That was why Adrian and Leira, whose contributions were relatively small, each received two.
Verden, on the other hand, was given the skull alone, worth more than all the other parts combined.
Still, even a rib had overwhelming value, both for magical and physical research.
After all, it was a dragon's by-product.
Verden said.
"From now on, Balrog will hardly spare a glance for Rayshen or Isabella. He'll be too busy studying how to use that dragonbone to benefit his tower."
Forcing the tower master of Bohemirn to fix his attention elsewhere.
It was Verden's final arrangement, to safely and for long conceal the death of Rayshen.
It was no waste.
For when revenge was achieved in the future, it would return to him naturally.
Verden cast his gaze over the railing.
He saw Rovellin's figure, growing ever more distant.
'Not yet.'
For now, he could not reveal himself, since he must avoid open conflict with the Bohemirn magic tower.
At least until he gained power enough to face Balrog Bessias... but surely, that time would not be far.
'All-out war with the Bohemirn magic tower.'
That would be when he reunited with Rovellin. Verden silently promised himself.
He drew a deep breath, lifted his eyes to the sky.
At that moment, Adrian said.
"But I do wonder, my lord. Just who was it that obtained the dragonbone in the Labyrinth of Ants?"
"Hm, I'd like to know that too."
Even Verden and Adrian, who had provided the auction items, could not discern who had taken what.
It was pure curiosity.
And that curiosity was answered by an entirely unforeseen circumstance.
***
"Here is the payment."
A few days later, one of Ignacia's aides came, delivering 22 billion Elk in cash. Not checks, but all in bundles of banknotes.
Perhaps because it was the Transcendent's faction, the method of delivery defied common sense.
"And by Ignacia's order, there are two things to give you."
"To give us?"
What could they be?
Verden turned the thought over, but could not guess.
"First, a person."
At the aide's gesture, another follower of Ignacia dragged forward an unconscious middle-aged man.
A face Verden had never seen.
"Upon investigation, he was found to be the coachman of the Melodist of Fortune. He was loitering around a site where unconfirmed spatial teleportation occurred in the city, so we detained him. Does he have any relation to you?"
"Relation... not none."
For he was Isabella's coachman.
"Then we hand over his custody. Treat him as you see fit."
"Much obliged. And the second?"
"This."
The aide produced a large bone.
Dragonbone. One of the items from the Scales of Ignacia.
"...??"
Silence fell at once.
It was baffling why something that should be in another participant's hands was here.
"Ignacia said that the Arnak Empire, one of the strongest contenders, had tried to escape with the dragonbone, but was attacked by a giant. They did manage to crawl out of the labyrinth half-dead, but lost the dragonbone along the way."
"Which means...."
"As none claimed the auction's main item, it is returned to its original owner. That is Ignacia's decision."
Verden accepted the dragonbone.
The bait he had cast to capture Rayshen had come back to him again.
'Like some boomerang.'
In the end, Verden had gained both immense wealth and the dragonbone.
By now, except for Rovellin, the participating factions would be doubting each other, wondering who had walked away with the dragon's remains.
Adrian gave a dry laugh.
"You've toyed with the world."
"That is Ignacia."
The aide lifted his chin proudly.
Verden felt as though Ignacia's laughter echoed in his ears.
Shaking his head, he stored the dragonbone and 22 billion Elk into subspace.
"I'll give thanks in person."
"Ignacia sleeps. Come later, when she summons you."
With that, the aide returned to the Sanctuary of Illusion.
Unwittingly, Verden had become the victor of the Labyrinth of Ants.
Not only had the seller reclaimed the item, he had also taken the payment another had offered. It felt as though he had committed some grand fraud, yet regardless.
'Next....'
It was Isabella's turn.
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