Volume 4 Chapter 106 Pokochin-man’s True Identity is Abbas
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
”CURSE YOU, PHANTOM THIEF PECKER-MAN!!”
The sudden, crude outburst caused Homolka to freeze. He looked like a man with absolutely zero tolerance for dirty jokes. Kian, Priscilla, and Homolka were currently ascending the gentle slope leading into the Royal Palace, arriving at a Y-junction where the path split.
To the left, the path led to the outdoor Salon, the Great Ceremonial Hall, and the war room on the top floor. To the right lay the royal living quarters-the site of the previous massacre perpetrated by Mansoor.
The group was heading for the war room (or perhaps the Great Hall, given the number of attendees), so they should have turned left. However, their guide, Eugenia, stopped with a twitching face. “Please… forgive me, but wait here for just a moment,” she stammered, before sprinting up the slope.
Seconds later, Guria’s voice echoed through the halls in a scream that sounded more like a wail.
The outdoor Salon was clearly in an uproar. Several men were shouting, their voices overlapping to drown out Guria’s sobbing.
”What is iT? What happeneD?”
A shark-man, who had apparently been guided ahead of Kian, was being shoved back by the palace guards. He was a massive brute, wearing a white toga decorated with primitive trinkets of shell and bone. A shark-like tail protruded from his waist.
”Hey, guard! What’s the commotion?” the shark-man barked.
”Sir, we don’t have a clue either!” a guard replied. “But Superintendent Tiegel ordered us to escort the guests to a separate room immediately!”
”Separate room? We’re still outside the Palace! There are no roomS out here!”
”Yes, well… Chief Blue, it’s regrettable, but we must ask you to wait here for the time being…” the guard said, his voice straining under the pressure.
Guria’s shrieks of “Circe! Circe!” tore through the air. They were followed by the furious voice of Medea. “Curse you, Pokochin-man¹! I will never, ever forgive you!” Medea screamed.
”Reading between the lines… it sounds like something happened to Lady Circe,” Homolka muttered. He craned his neck toward the unseen Salon and turned back to Kian with a deep scowl. “She was safe, wasn’t she? You went in to save her.”
”No, actually…” Kian lowered his voice so the shark-man wouldn’t overhear. “She was cut by Mansoor’s soul-slaying magic sword².”
”What!?” Homolka gasped.
”I didn’t tell the Cretan warriors because it would have gutted their morale, but Ms. Circe returned to the Spirit Veins³ at that moment,” Kian explained.
”This is… disastrous,” Homolka whispered.
”First Asterios, and now Circe…” Priscilla said, her face darkening with guilt. “This is my fault. I’ve taken so much from Crete…”
Kian wanted to tell her she was overthinking it, but he couldn’t. Her request really had been the catalyst for the collapse of Crete’s military strength. He kept his mouth shut.
(Because of Priscilla, Asterios is gone and the Lightning Knights are toothless. That’s why Circe’s guard was so thin. She really is a handful,) Kian thought with a weary sigh.
”Have you told anyone from the island?” Homolka asked.
”No,” Kian replied. “That’s why the panic is only starting now. They’re realizing the ‘Immortal Witch’ isn’t coming back.”
”Good heavens…”
”Cardinal Homolka, the Western Church isn’t going to back out now, are they?” Priscilla challenged. “I’m helping Crete whether Circe is there or not.”
”I am not the one deciding our military involvement; that would be Cardinal Augusto. For now, I will proceed with the meeting under the assumption that we are joining the fight,” Homolka said.
”Cardinal? Perhaps we should inform Lord Augusto immediately?” a voice asked.
”You’re right. Burier of the Cursed, would you mind?”
The woman in the leather suit-if it was a woman-nodded and retreated down the slope. Once she was gone, the eye-patched girl known as ‘Sick Cat’ began to whisper at a feverish pace.
”Cardinal, if Crete keeps the truth about Circe quiet, we should proceed with the alliance. But if they go public with her death, we need to put our support on hold,” Sick Cat said.
”The tactical difference with and without Circe is massive, after all…” Homolka started.
”No,” Sick Cat interrupted. She stared at the Cardinal with her one exposed eye. Between the heavy black makeup and her gloomy aura, she looked lifeless, yet her gaze was as sharp as a predator’s. She didn’t blink once. It was unnerving. “The abolition of Crete’s sea burial culture⁴… that was our true goal. Circe’s death is the ultimate leverage.”
”Ah, right! I hadn’t forgotten, of course. It was… in the back of my mind,” Homolka stammered.
”Lady Priscilla, you need our strength, don’t you?” Sick Cat asked, turning her gaze. “If so, we expect you to support the Western Church’s stance on the sea burial issue during today’s session.”
”If siding with you gets me those soldiers, I’ll do it,” Priscilla shrugged. “It’s not like it affects Châtillon.”
Kian wasn’t sure how much authority Guy had actually given Priscilla, but the white-haired witch was making reckless promises again. He would have bet ten liters of s**men that she didn’t realize the gravity of her words-confirming the death of a sacred tradition in a single heartbeat.
This is why she’s a walking disaster, Kian thought.
”Will you be joining the war, Lord Kian?” Sick Cat asked. Her tone was sharp, but Kian could hear her heart racing. He decided to ignore her obvious excitement.
”I’m already cleaning out Azrael’s faction as part of my duties for Underworld Island,” Kian said.
”I see. Then you’ll be on our side, won’t you?” she asked.
”I wonder.” Kian stepped toward her. She didn’t flinch, staring up at him even as her pulse spiked. “I don’t move for profit. I follow the law and my own conscience. You, however… don’t seem to share that sentiment. Do you, little girl?”
”────hhh!? ♡♡♡”
Kian whispered the words into her ear and pulled away. He gave her a cold, dismissive look and turned his back, acting as if she had ceased to exist. Her pulse flickered, then surged with a mix of anger and obsession. The scent of her heat hadn’t faded.
What a freak, Kian thought, deciding to stop engaging with her before she became a problem.
”I didn’t expect to hear the word ‘conscience’ from you, Lord Kian,” Priscilla teased.
”That’s uncalled for. There isn’t a Knight more selfless than me,” Kian said.
”The fact that you can say that with a straight face is what’s actually scary,” Priscilla replied with a wry grin.
Homolka looked at her, confused. “Now, now. I think it’s rare to find someone as selfless as Lord Kian. I’m actually a bit ashamed of my own motives. But as far as the Church is concerned, Sick Cat is right.”
Kian was about to ask about the Church’s alternative to sea burial when Eugenia came rushing back.
”Everyone! I am so sorry to have kept you waiting!”
”Eugenia. What’s the status? We heard screams,” the shark-man demanded.
”Chief Blue… that was… well, it was nothing! Nothing at all, really!” she said, her voice an octave too high.
”Don’t lie. I heard the Princess. I heard Lady Medea, too,” the shark-man growled.
”You… you must have misheard ~desuno! Anyway! I will guide you through the inner corridor to the Great Hall. Lord Kian, Cardinal Homolka, Lady Priscilla, please follow me!”
By taking them through the royal private quarters, she was practically admitting to a catastrophe, but she refused to budge. Despite the shark-man’s pressure, she bulldozed through with a frantic “I don’t know anything, sir!”
Kian wondered how they would explain the smell. The outdoor Salon likely smelled like a slaughterhouse right now. Regardless of Crete’s cover story, the meeting was going to be delayed until Guria regained her composure.
* * *
The meeting was supposed to be about the Western Church and Priscilla joining the war effort, but the bureaucracy was a nightmare.
The agenda was packed: the Church’s demand to end the tradition of sea burials (due to bodies washing up on their shores), customs duty revisions, the establishment of a Church outpost on a Cretan islet, and funding for anti-piracy efforts.
Priscilla, Homolka, the High Priest, and the Guildmaster had listed twenty-three items. And that was before any “motions” were raised.
Kian felt a wave of vertigo just looking at the list. By 8:00 PM-three hours in-they were still arguing about the very first item: the burials. Kian felt a murderous urge to find Talia, who had successfully dodged this disaster.
The country was falling apart, the enemy was at the gates, and they were spending three hours arguing over funerals. He wanted to scream at them to fix their priorities.
Finally, they took a break. Kian followed the exhausted crowd down to the Great Hall to scavenge what he could from the buffet.
* * *
While Priscilla and Homolka were busy engaging the Cretan elite in high-minded debates over philosophy and music, Kian couldn’t bring himself to join the fray. Though he’d studied his fair share of philosophy back at the monastery and was a passably good musician, his mind simply wasn’t built for abstractions. Unless a subject was practical, he couldn’t find the motivation to care. Instead, he decided to focus his attention on the dinner Crete had provided.
”Master Kian.”
He had just started toward a quiet corner, hoping to eat his supper in peace, when a voice caught him from behind.
He turned to find a middle-aged Tiger Beastman and his wife. The man was Siberia Tiegel, dressed in a traditional toga. Beside him, his wife wore the intricate, flowing silks of a Cretan sorceress.
”Pardon our intrusion,” the man said. “I am Siberia Tiegel, the Edile⁵. I oversee the city’s urban planning, though I also manage a private merchant guild. This is my wife, Smaa.”
”I was happily retired until the labor shortage dragged me back into service,” Smaa Tiegel added, her voice carrying the sharp, polished edge of the court. “I am a former Court Sorceress, Master Kian. It’s a pleasure~desuwa.”
”Ah… likewise,” Kian replied. “Kian of Izerland. It’s an honor to meet you both.”
Setting his plate back on the table, Kian forced a polite smile and gave the Tiegels his full attention.
”Word of your exploits at Underworld Island has reached us,” Tiegel said.
”Thank you. It was a brutal theater, but my people are exceptionally capable. We had luck on our side as well,” Kian said.
”With the resources of the Kian Merchant Guild behind us, we might actually survive this war. We truly look forward to our partnership~wa,” Smaa said.
The woman took his hand, her smile every bit as dazzling as her daughter Amora’s. As Kian offered a non-committal grin, Tiegel reached out-his hand weighted by heavy rings of diamond and ruby-and gripped Kian’s waist. He pulled Kian close with an intensity that belied his scholarly appearance; even in middle age, he was still a Steel Tiger.
”Master Kian, I’ve heard rumors you’re looking for the leasehold rights to Fire Island and Underworld Island,” Tiegel whispered.
”I am,” Kian said.
”If Crete wins this war, those islands are yours. In exchange, we need you to keep the Malc navy occupied until our forces can punch through the Gensou line~desunno.”
”Wait,” Kian blurted out. “Do you honestly think you can beat Gensou?”
The air between them went still.
”Forgive me,” Kian said quickly. “I tend to speak before I think. But surely you aren’t pinning your hopes on General Balinars?”
”Of course not,” Tiegel replied. “Both Lady Priscilla and Lord Augusto are committing their banners. This is no longer just Crete against Gensou; it’s the Western Nations united. If you want to back the winning horse, now is the time.”
”Regardless of the politics, I intended to help Princess Guria Serda anyway,” Kian said.
He looked between the couple, his eyes hardening.
”It was the same during the Oswald Rebellion. I can’t stand by while a girl is being ground down by things she can’t control. You know I was a warrior monk exiled from Azrael, right?”
”We do,” Tiegel said quietly.
Kian’s expression tightened, a shadow of old trauma crossing his face.
”I was fifteen. My own fiancée betrayed me, and not a single soul lifted a finger to help. It was cold, and it was lonely. I swore then that I’d keep fighting so that others-these princesses-never have to feel that kind of despair. I don’t care if it’s Azrael itself in my way; I will stand against what is wrong. I want to believe in a world where that actually counts for something.”
The Tiegels stared at him. “My word…” Smaa breathed.
”I’m sorry,” Kian said, rubbing his neck. “Priscilla, Cardinal Homolka, and all of you… you’re making life-and-death strategic calls, and here I am sounding like a naive kid.”
”When you saved Ramsey from the Beastmen… was that also for the sake of the people?” Tiegel asked.
”Naturally. What else is there?” Kian asked.
The couple exchanged a look, and Kian saw a profound, heavy sense of relief wash over them. They looked at him as if he were a rare gem.
”Master Kian, we are more grateful than you know that you came to Crete. Please… you must save Princess Guria Serda,” Tiegel said.
”I won’t let her down. I promise you that!” Kian said.
”Gods… such a radiant young man,” Smaa whispered. She stepped forward, her face turning grave. “Master Kian, may I ask a personal favor?”
”What is it?” Kian asked.
”It’s about our daughter, Amora. We need to heal her. Do you happen to know any warrior monks capable of regenerating lost limbs?” Smaa asked.
”I do,” Kian said.
The reaction was instantaneous. Smaa shoved her husband aside and grabbed Kian with enough force to bruise. Guests began to stare, but Tiegel quickly smoothed the air with a practiced, diplomatic smile.
”Who? Tell us!” Smaa demanded. “Is it the Tsai family? Do you know a Tsai practitioner? Is it Hanami Tsai?”
”No, her daughter. Linca Tsai,” Kian said.
”Linca Tsai!? We’ve struck gold! Oh, Zeus!” Tiegel exclaimed. “Linca Tsai… I remember she was General Jibril’s closest confidante.”
Kian felt a cold sweat break out as he gently tried to peel the Madam off his robes.
”You’re well-informed. She’s currently serving as a sorceress under my command,” Kian said.
”Then you have to introduce us! I’ll pay any price! For my daughter, I’ll empty the treasury!” Tiegel cried. He cornered Kian against the wall, his hair messy and his eyes bloodshot with a desperate, frantic energy.
”I can write a letter,” Kian said, “but she’s currently at Izerland Fortress with Sarah. I’ve seconded her to help Princess Maribel. Sarah is on a Royal Progress⁶ through the Frontier right now, so Linca is running the whole show back home. It’s not a post I can just pull her from on a whim.”
”So she’s the Acting Chief Sorceress of Izerland?” Tiegel asked.
”Essentially, yes. She’s likely the one who drafted our official response to Crete,” Kian said.
”When does Sarah return? This month? Next week?” Tiegel demanded.
Smaa reached over and sharply smacked her husband’s forehead. “Don’t be a fool. It’s a Western-style Moving Court. She won’t be back for months.”
”But I’ll pay whatever it takes~desunno!” Tiegel shouted.
”Money won’t fix this, dear,” Smaa sighed. She turned to Kian. “Apologies. He’s… prone to these fits. In the West, lords tour their lands to project power, and the vassals are expected to host them. It’s a fortune in tribute.”
”Actually, she’s touring the Frontier to thank the lords for their service. Izerland is footing the bill. We just taxed the nation for the Beastmen war, so we’re using the Royal Progress to balance the scales. That’s what Sarah’s last report said, anyway,” Kian said.
”Then when will she be back? I’ll pay double!” Smaa snapped, leaning in too close.
”I don’t know,” Kian said, backing away. “But after the war, I’m heading back to Izerland myself. Why don’t you two come with me?”
”Yes! Without question!” they both shouted.
”Right… okay,” Kian said, feeling thoroughly hunted.
”Thank you, Master Kian. We’ll settle this after the war,” Tiegel said, regaining a shred of composure.
”If you try to leave without us, I’ll track you to the ends of the world~wa!” Smaa added.
The Tiegels didn’t let him go after that. By the time the next session started, Kian had missed dinner entirely.
The meeting dragged on until the small hours of the morning. When they finally broke, the hall was filled with pancakes and delicacies, but Kian didn’t have much of a sweet tooth. He was about to force himself to eat for the sake of the calories when he saw Guria and Medea. They looked like walking corpses.
The two of them, along with Chief Priest Lyos, practically dragged Kian into the outer corridor. The white stone hallway was silent, save for the low hum of the Mana Lamps⁷.
”What’s happened?” Kian asked.
”Kian… it’s Circe. She’s… she’s dead,” Guria whispered.
”I see,” Kian said.
”Is that it? ‘I see’?” Guria snapped.
”Princess,” Medea hissed. She was leaning heavily on a magitech automaton, her body still a mess of bandages. It was an ancient Talos⁸-model, powered by the ichor of Hephaestus-something far more advanced than the dolls Kian was used to, though the technical details were lost on him. “To a man like Master Kian, death is just a factor.”
”Princess Guria told me the weapon was a Black Onyx magic sword,” Kian said quietly. “If that’s true, I knew she wouldn’t survive.”
”Why?” Lyos asked, his brow furrowing.
”It’s a Soul-Severing Blade⁹,” Kian said. “It’s a weapon of the spirit Kharab. It doesn’t just cut flesh; it divides the essence. If you’re struck, even an essence’s soul is shattered. There is no coming back from that.”
A hollow silence filled the corridor. Guria didn’t ask why he hadn’t warned them sooner. She knew that if he had, the army would have collapsed into despair before the first shot was fired.
”Was the sword destroyed?” Lyos asked.
”I doubt it. Rita didn’t kill Mansoor. If he escaped, the blade is still in his hands,” Kian said.
”Gods above…” Lyos whispered. Beside him, Medea ground her teeth with a dry, rasping sound.
”It was all my fault.”
”What are you talking about?” Kian asked. “You were badly injured and supposed to be on standby, weren’t you?”
”No, Lord Kian. Actually, there’s something I must report, including that matter. Abbas Shakerdoust¹⁰—the man you nearly died to capture… well… he slipped past my guard and escaped the other day.”
Medea’s face contorted. As a half-elf, her features were usually so perfect they were intimidating, but now they twisted with a demonic intensity. Her expression was a volatile cocktail of humiliation, rage, and the gut-wrenching guilt she felt toward her late master.
Kian couldn’t help but wonder if she wore that same look when she was hexing a bad date.
”I see. That’s disappointing news,” Kian said. “But as far as I’m concerned, he was a ‘product’ I already delivered. I don’t feel one way or the other about it. More importantly, how does Abbas escaping lead to the conclusion that Lady Circe’s death was your fault?”
”The truth is, a death omen¹¹ appeared over my master months ago,” Medea explained. She pushed up the bridge of her glasses, unable to meet Kian’s eyes. She stared feebly at his chest as she continued. “Master ordered me to use a destiny-altering ritual—a high sorcery—to rewrite her fate. I obeyed. Within the heavy security of my own workshop, I began warping the threads of Lady Circe’s destiny.”
”Right. And then?” Kian asked.
”Then, the plan changed so that I would take custody of Abbas,” Medea muttered. “How do I put this… I have a bit of a disorganized side. I ended up confining Abbas in the very same workshop where the ritual was taking place.”
”Oh boy,” Kian said. “Isn’t that basically an invitation for him to tamper with the spell? He might not be a sorcerer, but the man had a top-tier education at the monastery.”
”Yes. Predictably, Abbas escaped,” Medea said. “He smashed the ritual arrays. And as if to mock my stupidity, he left behind a note full of vitriol.”
”Signed by a ‘Phantom Thief’?”
”Y-you heard about that?” Medea stammered.
”Yeah.” Kian nodded, looking around at the group with a somber expression. “So, because the ritual was sabotaged, Lady Circe died exactly as fate intended. And you’re carrying the weight of that.”
”It wasn’t just ‘someone’ who did it. It was definitely Abbas Shakerdoust,” Medea continued. “There were no signs of the workshop’s barriers being tampered with from the outside. He broke them from within. My automata only activated for a split second during the struggle.”
”But would a prisoner really go through the trouble of destroying a destiny ritual and leaving a note before making a run for it?” Kian asked.
”It seems indulgent, yes. But there’s no trace of an intruder, and he certainly harbored a grudge against me.”
”Did the note actually use the name ‘Phantom Thief’?”
”Yes,” Medea replied. “After a string of insults calling me an idiot and a moron, it was signed: ‘From the Phantom Thief.’”
”Huh. So Abbas Shakerdoust was the kind of classless prick who’d call himself a Phantom Thief,” Kian remarked.
Medea spat her next words with loathing. “He is Mansoor’s son, after all.”
”Have you done a proper forensic sweep?” Kian asked. “Right now, we only have your word to go on. Not that I’m doubting you, of course.”
”We’ve been trying to get in there to look for evidence,” Sir Lyos added. “But Lady Medea won’t let us set foot inside. She says she hasn’t finished ‘tidying up.’”
”Tidying up? That’s pointless right now,” Princess Guria said. “Who cares if you’re a total slob who can’t keep her room clean?”
”It is not pointless! And I am not a slob!” Medea snapped. “That is a complete fabrication!”
”Then you should have no problem letting Lyos and the others in,” Kian interjected.
”It’s different with men around! There are… things… I need to put away where they won’t be seen. Guria, you’re a woman, surely you understand?”
”I really don’t,” Guria replied. “I just leave all the maintenance to the staff.”
”Lady Medea, you look like such a sharp, professional woman… are you really a hoarder?” Kian asked with total innocence.
A vein throbbed in the dark elf’s temple. “I am not!”
”I don’t mind, personally,” Kian said. “Flawless women are hard to approach. Seeing an elite like you struggle with something as basic as cleaning is actually… refreshing. It’s almost endearing.”
”Medea’s room is beyond ‘endearing,’ Kian,” Guria noted.
”Wait-!? Stop it, Princess! Lord Kian? That’s not how it is, I swear!”
”Lady Medea,” Sir Lyos cut in. “If you’re going to clean, do it fast. You know the rules: do not disturb the evidence.”
”Of course, Lyos.”
”Everyone, let’s keep this between us,” Kian said, looking around the room. “I’m just glad Medea kept it to calling him ‘Captain Pecker’¹² instead of Abbas.”
”No, I… it’s nothing,” Medea whispered. “If anything, I’m just ashamed of my own failures.”
”Lord Kian, I hate to add to your plate, but I need you to find Abbas,” Lyos said. “You don’t need to do a full-scale manhunt, but if you spot him on ‘Grass Island,’ let us know immediately.”
”Understood, Sir Lyos.”
”Kian, I know it’s a big ask, but try to bring Abbas in alive,” Princess Guria added. “Medea thinks he acted alone, but someone might have helped him. We’ll get the truth once we have him in custody.”
”Right. Understood, Princess Guria,” Kian said. “I’d better catch him soon then…”
”Thank you. I’m counting on you.”
Just as Guria spoke, the doors to the Great Hall burst open. Meimei and Eugenia charged in.
”Pardon the intrusion desu-u!” Meimei shouted. “General Balinars has just returned to the harbor!”
(Ah, finally.)
The Great Hall erupted into a frenzy. Kian mirrored the shock of the others, but inwardly, he let out a long, exhausted sigh of relief. The meeting hadn’t even reached the main agenda yet, but it looked like he was finally being saved from this absolute hell.
—
Summary:
Kian and his party arrive at the Cretan castle amidst chaos following Circe’s death. While Eugenia tries to mask the crisis, the Western Church delegates (Sick Cat and Homolka) decide to use the news of Circe’s permanent demise as leverage to force Crete to end their sea burial traditions. The chapter ends with Kian’s extreme frustration over the stagnant political meeting as the country faces imminent invasion.
Kian is approached by the Tiegels, influential Cretans, who offer him territorial rights in exchange for naval support. Kian reveals his personal motivation for helping princesses stems from his own traumatic past as an exiled monk. The Tiegels become obsessed with Kian’s connection to Linca Tsai to heal their daughter, before the mood shifts tragically with the news of Circe’s permanent death.
Medea confesses that the prisoner Abbas Shakerdoust has escaped due to her negligence in confining him in her ritual workshop. His escape resulted in the destruction of a destiny-altering spell, which Medea believes led to her master Circe’s death. The heavy atmosphere shifts to comedy as the group teases Medea about her messy room, only to be interrupted by news of General Balinars’ arrival.
—
Trivia:
- Kian is the only one who knows the mechanical reason Circe won’t revive (Soul-slaying sword).
- Priscilla’s bet of ‘ten liters of semen’ is a hyperbolic character trait showing her lack of filter.
- The ‘Sick Cat’ character eye-patch girl has a physical/s*xual reaction to Kian’s verbal coldness.
- The meeting has 23 items on the agenda, and they spent 3 hours on only the first one.
- Talia is absent because she successfully dodged the meeting, which Kian envies.
- Kian was only 15 years old during the Oswald Rebellion.
- The Tiegels are part of the ‘Steel Tiger Tribe’.
- Izerland is actually paying for the Royal Progress, not the local lords.
- Linca Tsai was once General Jibril’s confidante.
- The ‘Soul-Severing Blade’ makes regeneration impossible even for immortals.
- Abbas Shakerdoust is the son of someone named Mansoor.
- Medea is a half-dark elf, which explains her striking features.
- The ‘Phantom Thief’ alias was actually used by Abbas in his goodbye note.
- Kian views the people he captures as ‘products’ once delivered.
- Medea’s master, Circe, was aware of her impending death through an omen
—
Character Insight:
Kian demonstrates a ‘cold’ type of charisma that unintentionally arouses ‘Sick Cat’, while maintaining a facade of being a ‘selfless knight’ that even he finds ironic. Sick Cat shows her true nature as a ruthless negotiator who prioritizes Church objectives over the immediate survival of their allies.
Kian’s ‘knight-errant’ syndrome is revealed as a trauma response to his own lack of help when he was betrayed at fifteen. Smaa and Siberia Tiegel transition from shrewd political players to desperate, vulnerable parents the moment a cure for their daughter is mentioned.
Medea shows a vulnerable, disorganized side that contrasts with her ‘elite’ dark elf persona, providing a ‘gap moe’ appeal. Kian demonstrates his social adaptability by using teasing to alleviate Medea’s intense guilt, showing he’s more than just a cold bounty hunter.
—
Behind the Scenes:
The author uses ‘Pokochin-man’ as a crude parody of the children’s hero Anpanman, emphasizing the sudden descent from high-fantasy politics into low-brow humor.
The ‘Talos’ reference connects to Greek mythology, fitting the Cretan setting. The use of ‘ichor’ further reinforces this theme.
The ‘Phantom Thief’ trope is a classic staple in Japanese media (Kaito), often contrasted here with Abbas’s actual vulgarity.
—
TL Notes:
Notes:
• Mansoor – Crimson-eyed elder monk and Azrael’s Divine General from the Shakerdoust domain near Dacia. Wielding mist form, blood-drinking, rapid healing. He ties to allies like Ryoma and Hanami Tsai. First appearing in Vol. 4 Ch. 25. Quick tag: vampiric red-eyed grandpa-general who mist-forms and drinks blood, obsessed with rescuing his captured son unlike other human monks.
• Eugenia – Red-haired girl with a ponytail, serving as a messenger pigeon for Sir Scipio.
• Tiegel – A middle-aged Tiger Beastman. A man of influence, wearing many gold and jewel-encrusted rings on his fingers. Has a daughter who was crippled and sterilized in the war.
• Chief Blue – A massive shark fishman with a shark-like tail, wearing a white toga with shell and bone ornaments.
• Medea – A dark elf. Same as myth.
• Sick Cat – A girl wearing an eyepatch and heavy black makeup. She is cold, inhumanly focused, and shows a predatory physical attraction to Kian’s coldness.
• Talia – A high-ranking vampire spirit currently possessing the body of Lyritisse. In this form, she has flaxen hair, blue eyes, and thick lips.
• Smaa – Amora’s mother, and a retired court magician; fiercely protective of her daughter. Tigress Beastman.Wears intricate silks of a Cretan sorceress.
• Amora – Scipio’s fiance, and the knight of crete.
• Gensou – Eccentric young Eastern monk-general in Azrael’s army, playful yet ambitious. Wields sun-like magic, swordsmanship, and assassination tactics. Linked to three masked wives—Seishi, Oushoukun, and Yougyokukan (Head Magician). Ally of Mansoor and Oji, serves under Jibril, proposes Operation Assassination. First appears Vol. 4 Ch. 45. Reminder: playful Eastern general with masked harem wives, always late but magically explosive, contrasting serious monks with his bathrobe vibe and schemes.
• Linca – Jibril’s favorite girl. High-ranking warrior monk woman from Shin, with strong abilities like ignoring attacks and poisons.
• Lyos – Chief Priest of Crete. Bald with clean-shaven eyebrows.
• Kharab – The enemy who stole Talia’s soul and possessed her body; referred to by the Black Onyx Spirit; defeated by Kian.
• Rita – Female warrior monk with fox ears, last direct disciple of Nizaam, wears a fox-ear hooded jacket. A ‘killing doll’ beastman created by Nizaam.
• Abbas – The heir of the Shakerdoust family, a prominent clan within the Twelve Divine Generals.
• Meimei – A dwarf girl-knight and member of the Lightning Knight Order (Raiko Knight-dan).
• Mag – The wolfwoman under Yelmar—the one who was caught by Kian’s group earlier.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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