Volume 4 Chapter 30 Formal Induction
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
”So, when you say west, do you mean beyond the Sea of No Return?” Rou asked.
Kian nodded.
”If you want to hear the rest, then Leprobus will also need to sign the merchant guild’s magical contract.”
”You’d hire me too?” Leprobus asked.
”Foreign vagrants aren’t tolerated on this island. If you’re going to wait here with Rou, you’d better join us as my companion. Rou, it’ll mean taking your employee, but I hope that’s no problem.”
”I don’t mind,” Rou said. “On the contrary, I’m grateful you’re allowing Leprobus residency as well.”
”Then good. Can you write?”
”I may look clumsy, but I’m nimble enough with a pen,” Leprobus said.
He took the quill from Kian and signed. The sight of it in his oversized hand seemed to warp perspective itself.
”As for the Sea of No Return,” Kian continued, tucking the contract into his belt, “I don’t know it well. About a week ago, before I met Rou, I sailed west and found myself on Black Island. There was no such sea. What I found instead was a graveyard of shipwrecks. The island was home to minotaurs. I slew several and entered their lairs, where I discovered Death Fruit and Underworld Smoke Crystals.”
”You said you went there for a quest’s material collection,” Rou pressed, his eyes narrowing. “What exactly were you sent to collect? Was it those items as well?”
”I’m bound by confidentiality. Rou, does it matter? If you obtain the fruit and the crystals, isn’t that enough?”
”…Yes, you’re right. And if those items are contraband in certain ports like Chatillon, then I will pretend I don’t know it.”
”It’s wise to keep a weapon against your employer,” Kian said lightly. “Otherwise, you’d only ever be my yes-man. But don’t take it too far—nothing is duller than infighting among comrades.”
”I would never harm your interests. You are my benefactor.”
”And I’ll overlook what kind of illicit concoctions you intend to brew with Death Fruit and Underworld Smoke Crystals.”
Kian laughed openly and gestured toward the winged golem dozing on the sand.
”If you like, I can fly you to the island myself.”
”Really? Rou, you’re lucky. Everything’s falling into place!” Leprobus beamed.
Rou, however, furrowed his brow, wary of motives he could not yet discern.
For Kian, though, it was only convenience—he already intended to revisit the island to confirm the truth of the white bull. With Camilla’s winged golem, the trip would take less than a day. A small favor, nothing more.
”In exchange,” Kian added, “if you lose your reason for traveling to Ramsey, you’ll work in my guild as full employees. Leprobus too.”
”In that case,” Rou said quietly, “I would return to Azrael and inherit my family’s estate. Leprobus may decide otherwise, but I could not accept.”
”You’re going to Ramsey for your sister’s grave, aren’t you? I know Lord Oswald, the overseer of its reconstruction. He invited me to visit. If I go, I can take you along.”
”Kian, your face is huge!” Leprobus blurted.
”My connections are wide,” Kian corrected with a faint smile.
T/N: pun on “face”—one means big head, the other wide network.
He turned back to Rou.
”Of course, if your sister truly loved you, I won’t stop you from returning to Azrael to succeed the family. Still, think of it—work with me, earn wealth, and then establish your own guild. The Kowloon Merchant Guild is bankrupt, isn’t it?”
”Yes. Payments have already stopped through the guild. By the new year, creditors will know. Once the insurance is settled, our guild is finished.”
”Then you should have no objection to joining mine. You’re young, multilingual, with guild management experience. I’d be glad to have you formally. And Leprobus seems quite capable. With current international tensions, we lack the strength we need.”
”Ha, come on, that’s a lie,” Leprobus said, baring his jagged teeth. “You look plenty strong already.”
”There’s much I can’t do alone. I can’t both guard the sugarcane fields and fight monsters. We’re perpetually short-handed.”
Rou inclined his head. “Understood. It seems we’ll be together for a long time.”
”You still doubt your sister loved you,” Kian said softly.
”――”
”Your sister worked constantly, never home, and you didn’t even know what she did, isn’t that right, Ryu?” Kian asked.
”It’s Rou,” he corrected, his voice firm. “And enough about my sister. Do you require her history before you employ me, Guildmaster?”
”No. I don’t care in the least. What matters is you, here and now—not your sister.”
He extended his hand. Rou shook it. Then Leprobus’ massive hand followed.
”By the way, Kian—your clothes are in tatters. And you stink.”
Leprobus wrinkled his nose at the half-dressed merchant lord.
”Unlike you, I haven’t bathed or changed.”
”I’ll have fresh clothes brought at once, Guildmaster,” Rou said.
”Forgive me. I’ll take a quick bath. After that, we leave for the island. Will I have company, or shall I go alone?”
”If it wouldn’t trouble you, may I come along? My selfish wish—I need to wash away sweat myself,” Rou said softly.
”Very well. Leprobus, can you watch the shop? It only means telling anyone who comes that ‘the guildmaster is away, he will return by morning.’”
”Sure, leave it to me!” said Leprobus.
Kian’s doubts lingered, but since Rou—who often managed him—remained silent, he assumed the boy was up to the task. His handwriting had been neat enough, perhaps he was more educated than he looked.
”Help yourself to food in the kitchen. Do you know how to use the toilet?”
”Rou taught me already.”
”Good. If anything else is unclear, ask before we depart. Your room is the large one in the center of the second floor. At night you may return there.”
”Got it!” Leprobus chirped.
”Rou, for the journey, use a cloth sack or rucksack. I’ll inform the owner later.”
”Yes, thank you. By the way, Guildmaster Kian, letters for you have been carried to the study. Please check them after bathing.”
”Understood. Did anyone call on me directly?”
”No, no visitors,” Rou replied.
”I see.”
Balinars and his men were bound from stepping inside guild grounds. The paperwork for founding the merchant guild still stalled, and the absence of visitors was no surprise. Still, today Guria or Medea might arrive. They would have to be politely turned away.
Kian sighed inwardly. Guria’s endless lists—such as her demand for a game of tag on Snow Mountain—would be postponed. More urgent was the matter of the bull. If missing from the guild caused today’s quest to fail, losing the five gold coins in payment would be acceptable.
He thought it wise to send word to the Lightning Knights, informing them he’d be absent for the day. Better than wasting Guria’s time.
With that settled, Kian brushed sand quickly from his soles and stepped into the entrance hall.
* * *
Three letters—to Aliona, Priscilla, and Guria—were handed to Leprobus, who was told to deliver them to the pier’s ferry.
Meanwhile, Kian and Rou readied for their journey to the Minotaur island.
They would travel by two wyvern golems. The great sea serpent was gone, but other dangers might lurk beneath the domain’s waves. A spare golem meant one loss would not doom them.
Kian gave Leprobus portraits of Aliona, Isthbaran, and Leanan Sidhe, instructing him to admit them if they returned.
All prepared, he and Rou departed the private beach.
This time, the sky-journey was swift and pleasant. Last time they rowed partway, losing hours. Legends warned the Sea of No Return pulled down even fliers, but no such thing happened.
He had half-suspected, ever since eavesdropping on Medea, that he had blundered after General Asterios. He had felt it even before then, though he tried to ignore it. His instinct was right—the serpent’s death had destroyed the currents. Now Gaius’s drifting corpses flowed into Western Church territory. Compared to being summoned as “General Asterios” before the palace, however, the risk of exposure seemed small.
Protests from Cardinal Homolka had already reached Crete, and corpse-floating would soon cease. That Crete’s sacred sea-burial custom had died was regrettable, yet Kian intended to carry on business as if innocent. Fewer sailors would drown in currents, after all. If anything, the kingdom ought to thank him.
They reached the Minotaur island in three hours.
The island’s unnatural rectangle still stood, but its color had changed. Once black, it now gleamed deep blue beneath tropical sun.
Likely the surface was covered in thunderstone excreted by the Minotaurs. The last time it had rained under heavy clouds, the hue had been hidden. In clear weather, its true brilliance returned.
”This is… incredible,” Rou whispered, leaning out from the wyvern golem. “A jewel of deep blue in a sea of light blue. What kind of natural force could shape it?”
”The Minotaurs here can absorb lightning strikes or even generate it themselves,” Kian explained.
”Minotaurs can do that?” Rou gasped.
”Yes.”
Kian glanced down as Talia guided the wyverns into descent.
”These creatures are nothing like ordinary Minotaurs. The usual kind possess no organs for generating or storing power. Here they do. Fascinating.”
He suspected why. If the white bull truly was General Asterios, then these Minotaur warriors were likely children of past generals’ brides. Their inherited physiology explained much.
The golems circled, hovering above the island’s eastern shore. Rou stared at wreckage of ships below while Kian leapt first, conjuring a stair of stone with a spell.
Rou, backpack heavy, descended lightly step by step.
(His stride… trained, certainly.)
Kian narrowed his eyes at the young man’s landing.
The boy had no strength, his magic reserves meager. Yet he carried a strange weight. It was not muscle nor aura, but something earned through blood and blister: the pressure of his sword aura, a will sharpened through relentless training. Even his descent down the stairs, the transfer of weight, followed the patterns of Azrael’s Dance Swordsmanship.
It was like watching his younger self move across the sand.
”The entrance is there,” Kian said, pointing at the mountainside.
The same minotaur den he had once entered. Beyond its maw lay the great labyrinth. But the map of that endless maze was etched perfectly within his mind. Closing his eyes, he could step into his memory palace, walls and paths rising in three-dimensional clarity.
It was one of the strange abilities honed through fifteen years of scouting.
”Um… Guildmaster Kian,” Rou said quietly once they had entered the den and begun their trek through shadowed corridors.
Kian’s eyes pierced the dark, but Rou, being human, needed light. Five bird golems of Talia’s flitted above, their glow keeping the blackness at bay.
”What is it?” Kian asked.
”No… it’s nothing.”
”If you wish to ask, then ask. We’re guildmates, after all.”
”Guildmaster… are you a warrior monk?”
Kian arched a brow. “Why do you think so?”
”Your steps, your balance, the flow of magic… they all felt like the unique rhythm of Dance Swordsmanship.”
”So you know of Azrael’s Dance Swordsmanship. That art can only be mastered within the monastery.”
Impostors could grasp only fragments: surface techniques, or crude killing forms built for chaos. To truly embody the Dance required flexibility, strength, and mastery of magic from early childhood. The fact Rou could name Kian’s weight shifts meant he too had grown close to that art since boyhood—like young Oswald, kidnapped and forged in Nizaam’s crucible.
”The monastery has changed,” Rou continued. “Thanks to the great Lord Jibril, its doors opened to scholars of law, theology, even alchemy. But assassination technique—those are still taught only in secret, to a chosen few. I wondered… could it be true? Guildmaster, are you not the exiled son of House Vahid?”
Kian halted abruptly. His expression went blank as he turned.
The reaction was immediate: Rou’s pores flared, and his hand flew to the knife at his belt. Good. His instincts had been honed well.
Kian’s lips curved at last into a smile.
”No need to raise your blade. You are correct. Once, my name was Kian Vahid. The house name was stripped from me, stolen by my father.”
”I knew it,” Rou breathed.
”Ask whatever you wish. Nothing will anger me.”
”My memory tells me Kian Vahid was born with too few tachyonian cells, unfit to inherit.”
”Correct. I was the monastery’s failure. My marks in practice were nearly always failing. Only with Sarah, my betrothed, helping me scrape credits together did I manage to pass at all.”
”And yet now… you carry limitless magic. How is that possible?” Rou asked.
Before Kian could answer, harsh footsteps thundered from deeper in the dark. Heavy breath.
Minotaurs.
Kian unsheathed the curved blade taken from a nameless swordsman, turning away from Rou. The boy tilted his head, then caught the shift of presence and raised his knife.
The monsters bellowed as they burst from the shadow.
Three of them. Taller than Kian, smaller than Leprobus.
”No problem,” Kian said. “Leave them to me.”
Power surged. His feet leapt with Leap, his blade shone with Impact. In a flash, he closed the distance, severing one bull’s neck. The returning swing cleaved another’s head clean.
Rou gasped sharply.
Two corpses collapsed before they even understood they were dead.
Kian strode past them, calm, toward the last. The beast roared, bringing down its thunderstone club. In the blink of a Leap, Kian blurred, slipping behind. He sliced the backs of its knees, dropped it to the floor, and seized its head in his left hand.
Bones gave beneath his fingers with a wet crack.
Rou’s eyes widened despite his mask of composure.
Kian let both hands fall, his magic sliding into the monster.
White mist streamed upward, absorbed into his left arm. The bull withered without a fight, flesh sinking, cheeks hollowing, life gone.
”…Beautiful…” Rou whispered. “No—beyond beauty.”
T/N: pun on “beautiful” + “sublime.”
He stared at Kian as though Azrael himself had descended into the labyrinth.
”The right hand heals, the left hand reaps… I—I’m witnessing the miracle of the instant!”
”This is what I’ve become,” Kian said quietly. He cast the corpse aside and returned, his boots echoing. Rou was on his knees now, palms pressed to stone.
”Can I do it too?” he asked, eyes shining with rapture.
Kian studied him. “With practice, perhaps.”
Rou laughed, a trembling laugh that turned wild.
”Marvelous! Like the god Azrael himself! Ah—ahhahahaha! Incredible! Such a great beast, undone as if by fated death! Its life, stolen into you—making you stronger! Ah, divine!”
’What a strange boy,’ Talia yawned, voice drifting from behind.
But Kian did not think Rou strange. Anyone would be moved at witnessing such a mystery.
Had his old master shown him Magic Power Absorption in his youth, he too would have fallen to his knees in awe.
”Thank you, Guildmaster Kian. This is, for me, a revelation—almost a gospel.”
”I’m glad it became an amusing spectacle,” Kian said. “By the way, may I ask you something?”
”Of course, anything!” Rou rose, his eyes narrowing back into familiar slits. Kian studied the shift of his balance before meeting his gaze again.
”That footwork of yours—was your master a woman named Linca Tsai?”
”Yes, that’s correct. In fact, Linca is my sister.”
”I see. Everything makes sense now.”
He pieced it together: an eastern lineage, a sister reported dead in Ramsey, studies funded at Azrael’s monastery, strict parents—especially a stern father. Kian had dismissed Rou’s connection because news of Linca’s death had already reached the Merchant Guild. He should have suspected sooner.
The world was unexpectedly small.
Linca had worried about her family. Kian had wanted to find her kin quickly. Meeting Rou might be the greatest stroke of fortune since crossing paths with the “glasses.”
”Your sister… she’s probably still alive.”
”What do you mean?” Rou asked.
”Your sister isn’t a merchant. She’s a warrior monk.”
”I know. My father and mother were warrior monks as well. They served Elder Umar, while my sister served Lord Jibril… only to be cast aside by him in the end.”
Rou spoke quietly, solemnly, as if with muted resignation rather than anger. Who could blame him? When one was told that a sister had been sent north of Ramsey only to fall to her death from a cliff, bitterness was natural.
And in truth, Jibril had discarded Linca.
”On duty, she fought me,” Kian admitted. “She lost and fell from a cliff, but I managed to save her. We spoke at length after that, and she chose to aid me in my quest.”
Rou listened without surprise, silent and steady. Kian went on.
”She is now at Izerland’s court, serving as Magician to Her Excellency Maribel. At the start of the year, His Excellency will tour the frontier with the Head Magician. During that absence, Linca will oversee the frontier salons herself. Soon, as a capable deputy, her name will be known across the borderlands.”
”…I see.” Rou bowed his head deeply. “In that case, I may walk my own path without regret. The family estate, I imagine, will pass to Linca.”
”No,” Kian said as he started walking. “She told me she had no desire to inherit.”
Rou jogged to keep up with him.
”She wants to work alongside Sarah. The tyranny of Steward McCutchen, Oswald’s rebellion, the Beastmen invasion, the return of the Thorn Demon—after all of this, Izerland lies in ruins. She is dedicating herself to its restoration, perhaps the greatest challenge in history.”
”Is she thriving?” Rou asked.
”Judging from her letters, she is busy but steadfast. When Izerland recovers, she will know she was the reason the frontier endured. That will bring her immense fulfillment.”
”I’m glad,” Rou said softly. He adjusted the straps of his empty pack.
”After she rose to the rank of high warrior monk, something in her seemed drained. She began taking long breaks. Father and Mother worried. Then came transfer after transfer—east, south, and finally to Ramsey, where there was only snow and beasts.”
”I don’t know if I should ask,” Kian said, pointing out a rut in the path so Rou wouldn’t stumble. “But is your family in dire straits?”
”Lord Ryoma and Lady Hanami are still healthy,” Rou replied. “But since Elder Umar withdrew from politics, they’ve been gradually pushed into obscurity. Are you familiar with Azrael’s magical revolution?”
”Not in detail. I only heard that Jibril has made wide use of monster-soldiers and magic tools crafted from stones.”
Rou nodded.
”Azrael is changing rapidly. Once, only those with vast magic power defended the nation, held high office, and directed politics, society, and the economy. Now, even those without magic can supplement their strength with tools and stones.”
”So Azrael, once a nation of magic supremacy, is no longer bound to it,” Kian said, recalling the Shura warriors he had faced in Ramsey.
They had been dropouts by magical standards, yet through stones and absorption techniques they became formidable. Individually they fell short of Linca or Sarah, but sheer numbers made them overwhelming. Linca and Sarah had been born strong, but that very nature made them difficult to manage. The Shura, by contrast, were perfect soldier-ants.
And in populous Azrael, a swarm of soldier-ants was pure, unadorned violence.
”Yes,” Rou agreed. “For those like me, it was hope. But the Twelve Divine Generals oppose it. They claim Azrael’s secrets and magic are divine acts, permitted only to the chosen. Now a deep divide festers between the ruling elite and Jibril’s faction.”
He continued, voice steady.
”In such turmoil, Lord Jibril proposed expanding Azrael’s influence. Likely, to exile the hot-blooded, outdated factions from within—and to redirect domestic discontent outward. According to my parents, General Mansoor, General Flora, and others who oppose Jibril were chosen to lead the invasions abroad.”
”And your father and mother—Lord Ryoma and Lady Hanami?”
Kian asked though he already suspected. Rou shook his head.
”They were selected for the expedition. Under the guise that even the Vahid house, as proposer, must provide soldiers, the powerholders once loyal to Umar were forced into foreign campaigns. As you know, my mother, Hanami, once served as General Umar’s Head Magician. My father was his closest commander. To Lord Jibril, they were a thorn in his side. A predictable outcome. Were I Jibril, I would have done the same.”
”I see… so if the expedition succeeds, they’ll be barred from Azrael’s core. If it fails, they’ll be disgraced.”
”Or slain in battle.”
Rou spoke lightly, as though his own parents’ fates meant nothing. He looked as if he could not care less.
”For my parents, that might be the happiest end. History will record that they fell bravely upon the battlefield, their family name unblemished.”
”Ah. That explains why Lord Ryoma pressed you so strongly to inherit the house.”
”Correct. With Linca dead, only I remained to carry on the line. But the Tsai family is a sinking ship. What joy is there in bailing water from the hull? My sole reason for serving the house was that my sister once supported me financially. For that alone, I needed to learn her true intent—to choose my life’s path with conviction.”
Rou exhaled deeply, a sigh so hollow it seemed his very soul was slipping away.
”But if my sister still lives, there is no longer any need to seek her intent. I begged the guildmaster to bring me here, and now I cannot even offer him proper thanks.”
”Don’t worry about it. I had business here regardless. I planned to return anyway. This way—though if you wanted to gather ‘Underworld Smoke Crystal,’ we’d need a different route. You don’t, right?”
”No. I’m sorry for troubling you.”
”It’s fine. More importantly—since you no longer need to confirm Lady Linca’s true wishes, does this mean you’ll officially work for my merchant guild?”
”If the guildmaster permits, I will devote myself fully.”
”Good. I doubt I can pay you much until our ventures succeed, though.”
”I too will strive so that my own earnings—and my subordinates’—may grow. Together we will overcome hardship.”
”I’m glad to hear that.”
Kian smiled at Rou, then pointed ahead.
”We’re almost there.”
’Location fixed. The minotaur’s chamber had a hole in its ceiling last time. I’ll move the wyvern golem aside. But with the cave-in risk from its rampage, be careful it doesn’t get crushed.‘
(Understood.)
Kian nodded inwardly to his unseen partner and quickened his pace.
Notes:
• Leprobus – Rou’s comrade who sacrificed his chance to escape during a pirate raid by pushing Rou off in a small boat. He returned to the deck, sword in hand, to protect the others. Distinguished by his giant blood and burning red hair, marking him as more than human. He is released by Kian on Cyclops Island jail.【v4c23】.
• Camilla – A woman; the subject of the chapter; her body was used to seal Erynys’ soul.
• Ryu – Linca’s little brother.
• Isthbaran – The High Warlord of the ‘Storm Herd.’
• Nizaam – A former member of Azrael’s Twelve Divine Generals and the current head of the Malc family, though he has passed both titles to his daughter to return to the battlefield. He is a prominent warrior noble in Azrael, known for his love of beautiful boys and fierce battles.
• tachyonian – a cell that generates magic power, allowing humans to enhance their bodies and perform magic to manipulate the external world. (tachyon: particle that always travels faster than light.)
• Mag – The wolfwoman under Yelmar—the one who was caught by Kian’s group earlier.
• Linca – Jibril’s favorite girl. High-ranking warrior monk woman from Shin, with strong abilities like ignoring attacks and poisons.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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