Volume 4 Chapter 31 I’m Becoming General Asterios, You Say？
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
For the first time in nearly a week, they entered the chamber of the White Minotaur.
The room, fifty meters square as before, was no longer pristine. Rubble lay strewn across the floor, and the claw marks from when Kian, Isthbaran, and the White Minotaur had torn through the space still marred its surfaces.
On the black stone floor, grooves ran deep as though a giant’s fingers had gouged them—Kian’s charge etched into the earth itself. Across the walls, cracks and shattered veins of blue lightning stone told where the Minotaur’s body had been slammed. It was unmistakably the battleground of beings beyond human.
The final touch: from the collapsed ceiling, blinding tropical sunlight poured in.
Last time, only a small hole had admitted a muted, cloudy sky. Now the atmosphere was utterly transformed.
”That ‘Death Fruit’ chamber was overwhelming enough,” Rou murmured, crouching over one of Kian’s deep tracks. The backpack at his shoulders sagged as he leaned forward, voice low. “But this place… this place reeks of terror.”
He moved on to where Aliona and the Leanan Sidhe had once stood, bending close. A withered carpet of rose stems and petals littered the ground. His brow furrowed in silent thought.
’Kian, clear away the rubble at the center. No magic.’
(Understood.)
Obediently, he hefted and flung aside the boulders Isthbaran had brought down with his secret art, Skyrend. Rou watched with wide eyes, but soon turned away again to study the battle-scars of Aliona, Leanan Sidhe, Kian, and Isthbaran.
’Crete’s philosophy is woven in,’ Talia explained, stepping forward, ‘but the formation is unmistakably that of a summoning circle. The Spiritual Vein of Zeus opens the path, leading directly to the Water Island of Crete—its royal Summoning Chamber.’
She continued in a measured tone:
’During the summoning, a black armor encloses the body. Chains of gold twine about it, taming the bull’s frenzy and drawing back its reason.’
(Golden chains. So that’s what those are.)
Kian’s gaze swept the sunlit corners until he spotted them: a length of golden chains, stretched out and abandoned. He walked over, lifted one in hand. Talia’s analysis came at once.
’They bind spirits. The same material as the chains used to shackle spirits of darkness—though the sigils carved into them are different.’
(They look like hieroglyphs.)
’Ancient Cretan script,’ she replied. ‘Likely an incantation to restore the bull’s reason. See how the figures line up? But to know for certain, we’d have to bring the chains back for proper decoding.’
(Chains like these… could keep Linca bound.)
’What?’
(If she ever came to kill me, I might be able to stop her with these.)
He drew the chain toward him, coiling it at his feet.
(So it really was a summoning circle. And the destination—Crete’s royal Summoning Chamber. That all but seals it. This General Asterios theory is looking more and more likely.)
’But it also means the chance of you being summoned in the bull’s place has dropped sharply,’ Talia noted. ‘Unless you just happen to be standing idle atop the circle, the summoning would fail.’
(Oh! That’s good news!)
’Good for us, yes. Not so good for the Kingdom of Crete. Without the Minotaur to lend Princess Guria Selda its lightning, their army must rely only on spirit-calling to invoke Zeus’s power. Compared to the bull’s output, it’s a drop in the ocean.’
(Well, leaning on monsters to defend a kingdom is a problem in itself. They’ve got strong soldiers—shouldn’t they manage? …Guess not?)
’If Crete falls, so does our sugarcane enterprise,’ Talia shot back.
Before Kian could reply, Rou’s voice rang from the far wall. “Guildmaster Kian!”
”What is it?”
”There’s a hidden chamber behind this wall.”
”I’ll smash it open.”
”Please do. Something within might prove useful to us.”
Rou stepped aside, eyes gleaming. Then, glancing around, he added, “Strange, though. The master of this chamber is absent.”
”Indeed.”
”The signs suggest a recent battle. The island’s ruler was struck down—overrun by an invader of even greater power.”
”Looking at the floor, the walls, the gaping hole in the ceiling—yeah. Some terrifying foes tore through here. Lucky we didn’t meet them. I might not have survived.”
Kian clenched his fist, drawing physical enhancement into it. He nearly let lightning harden it further, but thought better of revealing that strength. It would be enough.
He struck the black rock. A massive crack split through. His second blow caved it in; the wall collapsed with a roar.
Flexing his unhurt hand with a sharp crack of his knuckles, he released the enhancement.
”Magnificent!” Rou exclaimed.
Beyond the fallen stone, a mountain of treasure gleamed. Gold and silver surged like waves, dazzling beneath the shaft of white light from above.
Even from the threshold, they saw golden cups, plates, necklaces studded with rubies, sapphires, emeralds. Ornate swords, useless in combat but exquisite in craft. Rings by the countless handful.
On the left, several open chests overflowed with coins. The nearer ones resembled modern Azrael coins; the others, though of unfamiliar minting, were no less rich in gold and silver, and surely priceless as relics.
”Now this,” Kian breathed, “this is the true glory of adventure. At the end, a hoard of treasure should burst into view—or else it just doesn’t feel complete. Don’t you agree, Rou?”
”I do, Guildmaster. To discover such wealth—it is a blessing beyond measure. Without doubt, this will strengthen our merchant guild.”
”That it will.”
Feigning deep emotion, Kian strolled casually toward the left side of the treasure pile. He plucked up a crown and a sword, then tried—without the least shame—to stuff them down the front of his trousers.
The crown and blade bore an inscription: “A gift to General Asterios, who repelled Azrael.” If Rou noticed, everything would be laid bare.
In fact, the truth was already unavoidable: the white bull Kian had devoured… had been none other than General Asterios himself.
By Priscilla’s coaxing or manipulation, Kian and his companions had unknowingly slain Crete’s key defender. Thanks to him, Crete would never again receive the general’s aid.
(Ah, damn. The Wraith porter won’t hold all this.)
”Kian, Guildmaster? If it’s treasure, my pack will—”
”No, it’s fine. I’ve shifted the wyvern golem near the collapsed ceiling. We’ll load it there. For now, Rou, gather the gold coins.”
”But that sword won’t fit in your trousers, Guildmaster. Forgive me, but this seems entirely pointless.”
”Not pointless at all. I was just comparing—which is bigger, this sword, or my d*ck?”
”…I see. Then by all means, continue your comparison.”
”Ah.”
Rou glanced back toward the scarred chamber they had passed through. “By the way,” he said, “the one who slew the white bull who dwelt here—it was you, wasn’t it, Guildmaster?”
”What are you talking about?” Kian abandoned the attempt to wedge the greatsword into his groin and tilted his head.
”White bull? Rou, do you know something?”
”There’s no need to feign ignorance, Guildmaster.”
The young Easterner dropped suddenly to his knees before Kian, pressing his hands together and gazing upward in devotion.
”From the moment I witnessed the miracle you wrought, I was already your faithful servant. Ah—! Forgive me, I grew excited just recalling it. In any case, there is no need to conceal your great deeds. True, you should not flaunt them before the people of Crete. But at least with me, there is no need for caution.”
”――――”
”These footprints are yours, aren’t they? And here—prints of two women and another man as large as yourself. One of the women barefoot. Would they not match the companions whose sketches you gave to Leprobus before your departure—General Isthbaran, Lady Aliona, Lady Leanan Sidhe?”
”No. We never reached this far last time.”
”Heh. Please, Guildmaster, spare me pointless lies. Over there, the azure thunderstone floor has been gouged, as though something massive were dragged across it. Something nearly three meters tall and far broader than yourself. A week ago, you crushed this chamber’s master, dragged its corpse out—and then—”
Rou’s narrow eyes opened a slit wider. His perfect lips stretched into a smile so broad his gums showed.
”—you ate it.”
”You saw? Ah, you caught me. Secrets are wasted on you.”
”So it’s true.”
Kian stepped forward, looming over the kneeling youth.
”Rou, you broke our pact, didn’t you? You opened the cellar chest—the one holding the white minotaur’s head and breast.”
”I accept your rebuke. My curiosity overcame me. Will you punish me with that left hand? To have my life drained and merged within you—that would be a beautiful end.”
”I’ll do no such thing. You’re Linca’s younger brother. Even if you weren’t, I’d never kill a promising youth like you.”
”Your grace humbles me, my god.”
Rou bowed beneath his clasped hands, but his gaze darted toward the sheathed treasure-sword at Kian’s feet.
”General Asterios—the strongest hero in the history of the Isles. Statues of him stand all across Crete. And to think, that great champion’s true form was the witless white bull frozen in ice.”
”…Yes. I can’t reveal the full details—confidentiality. But the item I was hired to recover included the bull’s heart. It lived even as a heart alone. Now it’s been taken outside Crete. I sent a letter demanding its return, but… no doubt too late. Even unused, the client will never give it back.”
”I won’t pry into your quest’s details.”
Rou’s eyes narrowed again, and he rose to his feet.
”The problem is what comes next. Won’t Crete’s government soon discover their hero has been slain?”
”They will. Inevitably. Because Princess Guria Selda was set to announce her betrothal to General Asterios at the parade on the twenty-fifth.”
Kian stood beside Rou, gazing at the summoning circle etched into the chamber floor.
”In exchange for his strength, Asterios demanded the princess’s womb, and a child of his own.”
”Wait—then the island’s minotaurs are—”
”Not certain yet. But most likely, every time Asterios lent his might, he demanded children of women of royal blood.”
He continued, voice low.
”I think Asterios meant to answer the summoning circle when he lay with Princess Guria Selda. But on that evening, when the court mages invoked the circle, nothing answered. Within an hour, they’ll know something has happened to him.”
Rou gave a dry chuckle. “And the first to be suspected will be you, Guildmaster.”
”Scipio Crete already has me marked as an enemy. From the start, he’ll accuse me of murdering Asterios. Annoying, really.”
’Well, he’d be right,‘ Talia murmured under her breath.
Kian smiled at Rou.
”If you tell the government I killed Asterios, you’ll earn a handsome fee.”
”I’ll never betray you, my god. Profit or no, I wouldn’t dare oppose you. If you doubt me, make it a guild secret. Then the scroll’s spell will bind me—I’ll be unable to speak of it beyond our merchant guild.”
Kian nodded and declared Asterios’s death a guild secret.
Rou laid a hand over his chest and received the vow with solemn reverence.
When it was done, he clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing the chamber.
”Guildmaster, I have a plan.”
”What sort?”
”A strategy to break the deadlock—two birds with one stone. Tell me, do you prefer women, or men?”
”Women, naturally.”
”Married? Or perhaps a lover?”
”I’ve about ten, though perhaps it’s only me who thinks of them as lovers.”
Rou nodded once.
”Then it’s simple: you must become General Asterios. Put on that black armor lying beside the treasure. If you declare boldly that you are he, few will gainsay it. Asterios never appeared in the war ten years ago. None at court will remember his face. And if any do, you could claim your voice has changed, your appearance has taken on human form. That should suffice.”
”You mean I should take Asterios’s place?”
”Exactly. Then his death vanishes from the record. You can ravish the princess and swagger as much as you like. Should you crave slaughter, you can massacre on a whim, just as you did on Cyclops Island. And if you’d rather not, you can do as Asterios himself once did—take the reward and abandon Crete.”
”You seem to lack any sense of ethics. Not that I’m one to talk.”
Rou chuckled. “If I may guess, Guildmaster, you’ve taken in Asterios’s power, haven’t you? Through some technique akin to that absorption art you showed earlier. That’s why you carried off his body and ate it.”
”You see through everything, don’t you?”
Kian gave a wry smile. This man possessed a singular mind—an imagination as much artistry as intellect, his wild fancies always anchored by reason. A terrifying youth indeed.
”Once you’ve claimed to be Asterios, you’ll add this: the island has grown desolate and reeks of rot. Demand that Crete’s king send workers immediately. We of the merchant guild will step forward to take the job first.”
”Won’t that draw trouble onto us?”
”It’s too late for such qualms. By killing Asterios, you already set an international crisis in motion. Better to brazen it out with a staged performance. Tell me—how much of Asterios’s power can you reproduce?”
”I don’t know. But this, I can do.”
Kian stripped off shirt and trousers until he stood bare, then released the bull cells within. Before Rou’s eyes, Kian shifted into a great white bull.
Rou’s grin spread wide, gums showing. “Magnificent… so you can transform, just like the legendary vampire.”
”You suspected?”
”Indeed. Magic Power Absorption is the vampire’s art. When I struggled through the monastery’s trials, I scoured countless texts. The method itself remained a mystery, but I learned the legend well.”
”Anyway,” Rou continued smoothly, “Guildmaster Kian will appear in the guise of the White Minotaur, demanding that Crete cleanse this island. Then, Asterios—yourself—will appoint the merchant guild for the task. In one stroke, you seize authority over this land’s management from Crete, securing fields for our sugarcane.”
”You make it sound easy…”
’You can do it. Seducing women is your talent, isn’t it?’
(So you agree, too.)
’Either way, we needed to sway Crete’s government. Compared with subduing Scipio or Medea, winning over Princess Guria Selda’s heart as Asterios will be far simpler.’
Talia’s voice rang in his mind.
’It’s siege warfare: avoid the strong points, strike the weak, let the heart of the castle decay from within. The oldest tactic there is.’
Rou pressed on aloud. “Guildmaster, across the ages, men have won favor through charm with princesses and empresses alike. This is your chance to leap into Crete’s royal embrace. We mustn’t let it pass.”
”Well, I’d like to get our business steady and start studying for the Intermediate-Rank Adventurer Exam soon. No reason to tuck tail and flee from good fortune.”
”…”
Rou said nothing of Kian’s odd fixation on becoming an intermediate adventurer. He only smiled on, eyes narrowed.
Kian nodded once. “Then let’s try it. If impersonating Asterios proves impossible, I’ll flee abroad—perhaps to the Papal States. Homolka the cardinal is there, after all.”
Rou’s lips curled. “This should be fun.”
’You do keep life interesting, Kian.’
* * *
Later, they brought down two wyvern golems through the collapsed ceiling, to haul away the hoard General Asterios had gathered for centuries.
The treasure was vast, yet Mrs. Camilla’s golems, each the size of a small boat, could carry it in one trip if piled high and lashed tight with rope.
”There seem to be about five hundred usable Azrael gold coins,” Rou murmured as Kian loaded a chest of coins. Beside it, Rou filled a small cloth pouch with rings and set it down.
”As for the sugarcane project—how much money will the equipment need? Pressing tools, drying tools, that sort of thing.”
”My magicians will handle parts and assembly. No outside hires to pay. The real cost is in magic stones. Each tool consumes one a month—so twelve a year. We’ll need about a hundred pressing tools and a hundred drying tools. That’s two hundred tools, twelve stones each, two thousand four hundred stones a year. That’s… a terrifying amount.”
”I see. Then we should convert some of this treasure into coin. Best not to touch the guild’s checks.”
”Right.”
Priscilla’s checks were a last resort. With this windfall, there was no need to borrow from wealthy patrons. Better to use the god-given bounty at hand.
”But except for the Azrael coins, everything else must be exchanged into currency. We can’t buy magic stones with barter.”
”Leave it to me.”
Rou bowed deeply, hand pressed to his chest. “Give me a few days. I’ll try the black market on Water Island, see if we can exchange it quietly.”
”Can you manage that? I want actual coin, not promissory notes. If all you can get are notes, it’d be better to sell off the treasure slowly over time.”
”However, if General Isthbaran’s expedition is faltering, we’ll need more investment. We should also secure a long-term contract for magic stone supply as soon as possible. For now, I’ll aim to convert two thousand gold coins’ worth.”
”That’s a tall order. The risk is high, and the responsibility even higher. Are you sure?”
”Please trust me. I handled these kinds of deals back in my days with the Kowloon Merchant Guild.”
”Did you now?”
Even if the boy failed, Kian thought, it was only a windfall they had stumbled upon. Should Rou strike a foolish bargain, Kian could always recover the loss later.
”All right then. Let’s leave it in your hands, Rou. We’ll give it ten days. Keep a merchant’s log—I’ll be expecting a detailed report when the time comes.”
”As you command, Guildmaster.”
Rou gave another polite bow, but when he lowered his head, the corner of his mouth curled upward in a sly smile. It was the exact same expression Linca sometimes wore.
Whenever Linca made that face, it meant she intended to deliver more than anyone expected. But her tendency toward reckless independence also meant Kian had to keep her in check. Rou, though—he didn’t radiate that same dangerous volatility. There was something different about him, something steadier beneath the ambition. Risky, yes, but Kian felt inclined to bet on the young man’s grounded drive.
”I’ll handle the guild’s paperwork here, and with Leprobus I’ll work on fortifying our base and clearing out the minotaurs. Might be best to set up a message board by the post so people know whether I’m in residence.”
”With respect, Guildmaster, Leprobus can handle the fortification and extermination. You should focus on winning over Princess Guria Selda.”
”You’d have me seduce her in a minotaur’s form? It seems pointless to cozy up to Guria while wearing this beast’s face.”
”Not at all. Even in your true form, if you win over the Princess of Crete, she’ll never be able to escape you. Share secrets, bind her heart—make her inseparable.”
”So, it comes down to the ‘magic sword’ below the belt, does it? Well, I don’t mind. That’s an investment too—laying the foundation of business swiftly, so I can devote myself later to the pursuits I truly want.”
Kian nodded, then lifted the final treasure chest onto the wyvern golem’s back.
* * *
Afterward, he returned with Rou to the trading house, then set out again with Leprobus and a load of provisions for the Island of the Minotaurs. Ideally, they would have brought timber and metal fittings as well, but such things could not be obtained so quickly.
Leprobus, however, turned out to be surprisingly handy. Though his massive frame suggested brute force, he was skilled with his hands and, apparently, magic. “All giants are born smiths,” he explained.
So they would salvage timber and fittings from the countless shipwrecks scattered around the island, then refine them with magic before use. They could also haul timber from the island’s interior if necessary.
It was grueling work—work Kian would have preferred to lead himself—but Leprobus seemed exhilarated by the idea of living like a craftsman castaway.
Kian made several trips between Grass Island and the Island of the Minotaurs on his wyvern golem, ferrying whatever supplies the trading house could spare. Before departing again, he instructed Rou to keep operations moving and informed him that he would rejoin as soon as Princess Guria Selda revealed the precise time of Asterios’s summoning.
’When we arrive, it will be dawn. Princess Guria Selda was supposed to come to the trading house this morning, wasn’t she?‘
(Yes. Her letter in the post said as much.)
Just yesterday, Guria had only just returned from her adventure on Cyclops Island. She had been utterly exhausted, so when Kian wrote that he had other matters to attend to, she replied that she too was too drained, suggesting they meet the next day instead.
And little wonder—after a twenty-kilometer run, being captured, staging a daring escape, and diving into the sea, she had endured a brutal ordeal. Kian himself had been running nonstop, but Guria was still only human; it must have been punishing for her.
He worried she might collapse today—but those fears proved unfounded.
When Kian landed on Grass Island and sat down with Rou for breakfast—dried fish and mountain greens simmered into porridge, fresh-caught fish and seaweed in soup—he felt the approach of formidable presences. Guria arrived at the trading post with the Order of the Lightning Knights in tow.
Excusing himself from Rou, Kian stepped outside to the iron gate. There stood Guria, leading her knights, clad in white-based miniskirt armor that swayed as she ran to him.
The Order of the Lightning Knights was composed entirely of women. Asterios shared his power only with women and disdained men, so in older times the orders of knights had been divided. Royal blood allowed men like Scipio or Balanars to wield spirit arts and command guardsmen, but only women could stand in Guria’s knightly order.
Crete’s military carried within it an undercurrent of female supremacy, born from the interplay of magic and the differences in tachyonian cells.
”Good morning, Kian! Sorry about the other day! Medea interrogated you until dawn, didn’t she? Nobody would listen to me! They dragged me home and locked me in my room!”
The moment the iron gate opened, Guria’s miniskirt fluttered as she ran up, face full of contrition. Their armor emphasized elegance over ferocity, white cloth lined with red, ornate yet alluring—armor that struck one straight in the loins.
It bore the same fetishistic edge as Count Cain’s notorious miniskirt armor for Talia.
”Good morning, Princess Guria Selda.”
”Oh, no, don’t! Don’t be so formal! Just call me Guria, like always!”
”Well…”
Feigning hesitation, Kian glanced past her, noting the half-dark elf he knew, and beside her, a newcomer: a tall, voluptuous dark elf woman.
”Good morning, Lord Kian,” the newcomer greeted smoothly, her generous figure swaying as she took his hand.
”I am Circe, Head Magician of Crete and Commander of the Order of the Lightning Knights. I’ve come today both to apologize for the other day, and to invite you to joint training.”
”Joint training?”
Kian looked in bafflement at the long line of women assembled behind her. Guria puffed out her chest.
”That’s right! Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten? We’re playing tag on Snow Mountain! You’re joining us, aren’t you, Kian?”
Notes:
• Isthbaran – The High Warlord of the ‘Storm Herd.’
• Linca – Jibril’s favorite girl. High-ranking warrior monk woman from Shin, with strong abilities like ignoring attacks and poisons.
• Mag – The wolfwoman under Yelmar—the one who was caught by Kian’s group earlier.
• 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.
• 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.)
• Count Cain – Talia’s father.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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