Chapter 471 - Quietly
They departed the Eastern Continent, and returned to the Central Continent.
Through the effect of the Demon core, Isabella had gained a new Mystic Eye───Brilliant Eyes, and her physical defects were completely gone.
Her actual combat ability, as well as her pan-magical research capacity, had been greatly enhanced, granting her boundless potential.
'If Exceed is added to this... even in a magic duel against Magi of the same class, she won't fall behind. Even if she lacks experience.'
The Ring of Rune, Exceed.
At the very moment when the high-grade Rune within it is reactivated, and engraved into the body, all the wearer's senses become sharper.
The five senses, sense of balance, and visceral perception all grow clearer, enhancing bodily control, magical precision, and reflexes to an extraordinary degree.
In a sense, it is like evolving as a human itself.
Of course, the engraving process of Exceed must first be endured and mastered, but for her, there was nothing that could be an obstacle.
All the more so, since the engraving had been entrusted to the Dwarves, the progenitors of Rune-craft.
Isabella had already gone to find Gharun, and soon she would obtain sensations similar to Verden's before his transcendence.
'It is going smoothly.'
Verden measured the progress of preparations for the later plan.
In the middle of his thoughts, he shifted his mind to another subject.
'...The world, huh.'
That strange testimony Isabella had given, right after fainting from observing Verden through her Brilliant Eyes.
She said she had seen the 'world' itself, from its essence.
It was not some vague, abstract vision. It was as concrete as a real object placed before her eyes.
Isabella had affirmed several times that it was no illusion.
Verden stroked his lips.
"During the reconstruction of the body, the only variable is the power source of the magic tower, so of course that must be the cause... but what does the power source have to do with the world itself?"
He muttered quietly, but no one answered him.
The First Demon King, the magic tower's power source, Alpha, the golem laboratory, Beta, the laboratory in the Great Forest, the World Tree... all were connected.
But the clear links in between had scarcely been revealed. He couldn't even grasp at a clue.
Still, he did not feel lost.
There were two clues.
'One is Beta.'
The creation of the Demon King, left behind in the Great Forest where he resided, had guarded its place for hundreds of years.
Though its life span had long since expired, it had stubbornly prolonged its existence by consuming the magic of the Great Forest as fuel.
Was that the pure will of the great golem, Beta?
There was no way to know, but judging from its designation, Beta was no ordinary golem, just like Alpha.
...It had been abandoned as well.
Therefore, with Alpha's aid, Verden had extracted only Beta's core from within its collapsing frame.
For the sake of core transplantation.
'Now, Alpha has returned to its main body, and is analyzing Beta's core within the golem laboratory....'
Before long, Alpha would finish designing a dedicated frame, identify the required materials, and inform Verden.
Beta would be repaired without fail.
'And the other clue is....'
Verden recalled the mysterious group shrouded in secrecy, guiding the fate of mankind.
'The Ark.'
***
Verden had sensed the direct connection between the group known as Ark, and the First Demon King, because of the existence of Ark itself.
A massive floating island, isolated from the continent as if in another world, created by layers upon layers of spatial distortion.
Its scale was so vast that it seemed to be natural, yet from beginning to end it bore the traces of deliberate human hands.
Such technology had never existed, in either ancient or modern times.
'But if it were the First Demon King, Oldarc Ruin Arkenad, then it would be possible. Yes, there is no other explanation.'
From all he had seen until now, the genius and ability Oldarc must have possessed went far beyond anything recorded in history.
Since Verden himself had touched upon the realm of transcendence... he could all the more clearly grasp how extraordinary was the Demon King, the only one in magical history to have reached the 9th tier.
The Ark, the base of the Ark organization, had been built by the Demon King.
Verden swallowed this near-certain hypothesis. There was only one way to confirm it.
He had to become part of the Ark's leadership───in other words, its Captain.
He did not know exactly how to rise to that position, but once he returned to Ark, he would naturally learn.
'They would never leave alone a candidate for the Ark's Captain who had ascended to Transcendence.'
Even if he failed to become Captain like Legrit, at the very least he could raise questions, and demand answers.
The exchange match had ended earlier this year, so the Ark's exchange match next year would be the chance.
He thus organized his thoughts.
"..."
Casting aside his musings for a while, Verden entered deep meditation.
Whenever he had time, his main occupation was to refine the utilization of Mado
Sometimes he would go to deserted places to test his progress.
To narrow the gap, even by a little, with Dahit Wethroel and Balrog Bessias, he immersed himself in his own transcendence.
And after several days had passed, it happened.
"...Transcendent of the Ownerless Land, as commanded, we have finished selecting those from the East who can be recycled."
The broker, Serlo Broden, arrived carrying a thick bundle of papers.
***
Immediately,
The records of the main forces composing the new Eastern faction.
Pleasure killings, rape, robbery were practically the basics, and in the case of criminals of the magic world, there were even traces of human experimentation.
"Most of them are pathetic scum. And yet you still brokered these creatures."
The broker's work was to serve as an intermediary, relying on credit.
He would, for example, bring in the type of person the client desired, from the light or the shadows, and connect them.
Serlo was sweating profusely.
"My apologies, Lord Asher. Gideon of the Southern Alliance demanded more vicious ones...! B-but as you instructed, there are indeed enough who can be recycled. Even mercenaries among them."
"Yes, I see that it's just under two-tenths. Some even have no connection to crime at all. How reliable is the information?"
"I stake my neck upon it."
His voice did not waver.
Verden nodded lightly, and separated the bundles. Those selected, and the trash unworthy of selection.
Verden asked.
"After the competitive match in the Mediation Zone concluded, how did the Southern Alliance react?"
"They were quite violent, but after paying a portion of the penalty, and signing an additional contract to seize shares of the large-scale mines by other means, they managed to patch things up at least on the surface."
Because of that, Serlo's credit had been greatly damaged, but Verden did not speak of it.
Better not to scratch at the scab.
"Though the South was calmed for the time being, the East, on the other hand, has gradually grown unstable."
"Factional conflict?"
"Yes, that is correct. Some insist they must strike the North at once, others say the great lords' wealth must be liquidated first, or that the new rulers of the East must be chosen, or that wealthy patrons must be found, or that they must ally with the West. Opinions are scattered in every direction. Recently, blood has even been spilled."
The New East was a crude concoction, born of men gathered only by greed, without any shared conviction.
Exactly as the South intended.
By having the South and East divide the newly acquired mine shares, they ensured the New East would not unite like the great lords and grow into a major power.
After all, the very reason vast funds and time had been poured into eliminating the great lords at once, was because they were intolerably troublesome rivals.
But then, an unexpected variable arose.
Through Verden's and the North's interference, the competitive contract could no longer be altered.
Even the highly trusted broker Serlo had secretly been drawn into their fold.
Due to these factors, the division within the New East began progressing faster than planned.
Serlo cautiously asked.
"Shall I deal only with the heads of the factions?"
Though long retired, he was still a former adventurer of Obsidian Rank.
He might not be able to face an entire army, but eliminating the leaders alone was well within his power.
Including the Great Warlord.
Serlo's desire to undo these invisible shackles, and leave the Ownerless Land, burned like a chimney's smoke.
At that moment, Verden shook his head.
"That is not your task, but ours, so you need not concern yourself. You are only to gather the main forces of the New East in one place. So we won't have to waste time hunting them one by one."
It meant he would deal with them all at once.
Just as the great lords of the East had met their end.
"Once I do that... my role is finished, then?"
"No."
Verden's reply was firm.
"Whether broker or anything else, the fact remains you trespassed into my domain and tried to cause harm. The only reason you're still alive, is because I decided to give you the chance not to become an obstacle."
"..."
"Afterwards, you will install suitable lords over the selected New Eastern forces, and keep them under surveillance. Ensure they function as an actual extension of the North's territory. If you do that, I promise to release you within no later than two years."
Serlo felt both relief, and despair.
Though the danger of dying at the whim of a Transcendent was gone, he would still be trapped in the Ownerless Land for as long as two years.
'...I'll have no choice but to suspend my broker work.'
Quickly resigning himself, Serlo bowed his head.
"I will have preparations completed within exactly five days. So that the East may become an extension of the North."
"I'll trust you."
Serlo hastily left Arein.
Verden used the communication device to inform everyone of the situation. Cain, who happened to be in the fortress of Arein, came to ask.
"To secretly usurp the East, huh. Then is our task to form an encirclement, so no one can escape, senior?"
"No, the Society will not act this time. There's no need. You and Unia should rest as well."
The twins had fought brilliantly in the competitive match, marking both the beginning and the end of the North's struggle, but their opponents were what they were, so they had suffered no small injuries.
All external wounds had been healed, but some inner wounds remained.
Not too serious, yet severe enough to hinder them in fierce combat. Some rest was essential.
Verden continued.
"By the way, when did they say we can meet on the island side?"
"They said it is impossible for now, because the Sage of Protection is away. But within two weeks, you should be able to meet."
Two weeks.
The perfect span, to thoroughly handle the remaining business.
Time passed, and the five days Serlo had promised came to an end.
From the North, Verden, Adrian, and Isabella went straight to the East.
***
Once, among the great lords of the East, the Marquis Gerdom had stood at the pinnacle of power and wealth.
The knightly order he had carefully handpicked and founded was on par with the royal orders of small kingdoms, yet even they could not withstand the Black Beast, one of the Central Continent's Four Powers, hired by the South.
In the end, the Marquis Gerdom could not even mount a decent resistance. Not only his guards, but he himself, along with the other great lords, were beheaded and killed.
And the legacy he left behind after death, fell entirely into the hands of the New Eastern faction.
The vast banquet hall in his quiet domain, was one such inheritance.
The sound of noisy chatter echoed.
Dozens of men, comprising knights who led the rebel forces of the East, notorious criminals of the magic world, and skilled mercenaries for hire, filled their stomachs with meat and wine, babbling without rest.
"Shit, I'm sick of greasy food after eating so much of it. Ugh."
"I'm even more sick of wine. Why do people pay such high prices for this crap? Anyway, they said the South would deliver something, so why the hell aren't they here yet?"
The reason they had gathered in the banquet hall, was because word had spread that the South was drawing up a new plan.
Serlo's handiwork.
Of course, not a single one of them had realized this in advance.
A mid-level 4th-tier criminal, having eaten his fill, scratched his chin.
"After hesitating all this time, it seems the South has finally sent down a policy. Naturally, the first step must be to set up lords in the East."
A knight of the East shook his head.
"Of course not, the first priority is to attack the North. Do you know how much value those massive composite mines hold? How could we just leave them?"
A young mercenary furrowed his brow.
"I admit that, but you do remember the North has national-level power, right? As was shown in the competitive match."
"So what? In the end they are few in number. Nowhere near enough to defend the whole North. Besides, the South will hire the Black Beast, or whatever else, again, if they have any brains."
"..."
The mercenary felt disgusted, at their talk of slaughtering Northern civilians, but he could not curse them aloud.
Because behind the Eastern rebels, stood the Great Warlord.
'What kind of body is that...?'
When the mercenary cast a furtive glance, he saw the hulking Great Warlord seated in the largest chair.
With a colossal double-edged sword at his side.
That monster of physical might, was the leader of the faction demanding the North be devastated at once.
'Damn, I shouldn't have come.'
The mercenary's head ached.
He had joined, thinking that in a war, a mage could simply participate, cast mental magic from the rear, and make a fortune...
But he had missed the competitive match, and by accident been dragged into the Eastern rebellion. He should have slipped away sooner, but missed the timing.
He chewed his lips nervously.
'Don't tell me this will really turn into an all-out war against the North...?'
He didn't know much about national-level powers, but he understood they were monsters. After all, in mage terms, that was the 6th tier.
A mere mercenary who had barely learned 3rd-tier low-grade mental magic, had no business even dreaming of touching such beings.
What should he do?
The mercenary was racking his brain for a way to escape, when it happened.
Thud.
The banquet hall doors swung open.
Thinking it was a messenger from the South, all eyes turned, but it was a man they had never seen before.
The young mercenary tilted his head.
'What the hell, who's that?'
A man with long dark hair, a metallic mask covering his lower face... he stepped forward, leaving the sound of the closing doors behind.
He halted at the center of the hall, and spoke in a low voice.
"My lord is coming. From this moment, be silent."
They could not make sense of the words.
Not only the mercenary, but even the Great Warlord holding a wine cup, did not understand.
Then, an Eastern knight, offended by the man's commanding tone, shouted.
"And what are you? Clearly no knight. Which faction do you belong to, to dare disturb us with such airs...."
The man turned his gaze upon him.
He was one of the worthless scum excluded from selection. The moment he confirmed this, his hand went to his sword.
Slash.
A streak of light pierced the knight.
His neck half-severed, he staggered and fell.
The man's sword was still sheathed.
Only five in the entire hall had even perceived the instant when he drew and sheathed his blade.
The man spoke.
"Quiet."
"You bastard!"
Another knight, who had witnessed the death, drew his sword. But before half the blade even cleared the scabbard, his head was severed, killed instantly.
The man warned again.
"Quiet."
"..."
The hall fell into silence.
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