Volume 4 Chapter 49 The Mysterious Man of Early Spring ②
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
Once the sun went down, working at sea became difficult.
In the harbor where patrol ships came and went, many large vessels lay at anchor, wrapped in silence now that their crews had vanished from the decks.
The last ferry of the day from Water Island to Grass Island had already departed.
The eastern port, lined with merchant ships, would stir again only tomorrow morning, January 2nd.
The brawny seamen were busy drowning themselves in their first sake of the new year, drinking under the bazaar’s *[T/N: shopping street]* dazzling lights.
It was past eight in the evening.
On the dark sea, where only the creak of timbers and the gentle slap of waves sounded, a single round shadow rose.
For an easterner, its hunched black mound might have called to mind the yokai sea monk.
It cut through the waves, gliding toward the dark pier without hardly a splash.
Then its body blurred like mist, only to reform in the shallows by the brackish channel.
”――――”
Two red lights gleamed in the dark.
A white beard.
A giant frame.
Heavy brows and crimson eyes.
It was Mansoor Shakerdoust, one of the Twelve Divine Generals.
Normally, a commander stayed deep in the command tent, studying maps so he could direct the army or respond instantly to emergencies.
But Mansoor was different.
Just like the late demon of the striped beard, Nizaam.
For assassinations and sabotage, he always led from the front.
As for giving orders, he left that to Oji, or Hanami, or Gensou.
Mansoor knew well that he was suited to be a field captain who roamed freely, not a strategist shut inside.
For nearly forty years of fighting the Beastmen Tribe, the old man had thrived on that style.
His black monk’s robe was dry, as if the seawater had never touched it.
He bared his two sharp fangs, and like a tiger’s breath in snow, he exhaled a bloody mist.
From the dark sea behind him, two beetle-shaped golems crawled ashore.
They opened their abdomens and handed him gear stored inside.
A black hooded robe to wear over his monk’s garb, and a curved shamshir used by the warrior monks of Azrael.
The robe was just a robe. The shamshir was the same as any monk’s, plain but sturdy.
Armor? Unnecessary.
Strike first, kill in one blow.
As long as Mansoor wielded the shamshir, every swing of his “impact”-style technique struck with the force of a magic sword.
So there was no need for priceless blades that couldn’t be replaced.
In the end, his own body alone was enough to spread death and ruin wherever he infiltrated.
”Seishi. You’re there, aren’t you? Stealth doesn’t work on me.”
”――――”
While fastening the twin shamshirs to his belt, he called to the shadow beneath the pier.
At once, a woman covered by a cloth marked with the character “West (西)” appeared, stepping onto the concrete footing.
A buzz swelled, like countless insects moving their wings at once.
Click click click, like scissors snapping, echoed in the dark.
”General, I’ve been waiting.”
”Where is your master?”
”Not yet in position. He asked me to report once infiltration of the prison became possible.”
”So it’s nothing to him. Very well. He will cause a stir, won’t he?”
”Yes. That’s why I eliminated the barrier practitioner first.”
The cloth marked “West” fluttered.
Her painted lips opened wide, and from within crawled a savage beetle with massive pincers.
Not saliva, but a yellow liquid dripped down to the concrete.
”From our spies we know the prison’s location. Now we just need to find your son in chains. Your side should crush the remaining magicians. Tell Lord Gensou—no games.”
”――――”
The woman folded her kimono sleeves and bowed.
Her vivid shadow turned black, dissolved with a storm of wings, and vanished.
Mansoor gazed up at her fading traces, then turned his head at the ring of metal approaching.
He drew up his hood and leapt lightly onto the concrete.
”――Sorry, gotta take a leak!”
”Hey, we’re on patrol, damn it. Fine, just make it quick.”
”Sure, sure… ahh, can’t hold it…”
The patrol.
Two guards.
One stayed drinking water in the shadows before the bazaar, the other crunched across Sandy Beach toward him.
Mansoor could have slipped away unseen with ease.
But he chose otherwise.
A killing blade dulled if it cut no one.
And after being sick, this was his first mission in a while.
He had to test the edge.
”Ahh, just in time—huh?”
The soldier came up from the surf’s edge.
Wrapped in his black robe, Mansoor raised his right arm like a bird’s wing, shamshir level in hand.
Behind him—
The soldier who had gone out to relieve himself collapsed in pieces on the sand.
He tore too much, killed too harshly.
Mansoor trembled with savage joy at the feel of killing again.
The stench of blood filled the air. He wanted to breathe more of it.
A brutality he had never been able to confess in life.
As one of the Twelve Divine Generals he had to appear rational. But here, on the battlefield, he could kill as he pleased.
The crueler the kill, the greater his fame.
”Hm? Talos? Where’d you go to piss—gah!?”
The advanced form of the “Shot” technique—Pressure.
He dropped condensed qi from above like a crushing weight.
The instant Mansoor raised his shamshir, the guard’s resistance broke, the “Pressure” slammed through, and the man was flattened into the sand, then dragged toward him.
”Ah…”
He bit into the neck.
He drank the blood.
His white beard turned red.
”…No one saw. Talos has the runs and shut himself in the latrine.”
”no, one, saw… talo… shut, in…”
”――――”
Like a bear, Mansoor stretched his long tongue to lick the blood from his mouth.
Was the blood sweet because he had fallen into monstrosity?
No, it was his act of drinking it that disgusted him.
But so be it.
His heart had always been a monster’s.
He would raise the Shakerdoust domain in the west, make Abbas its lord.
After caring for his unworthy son, he would return to the soil, as the world’s law demanded.
This was the last dream of an old man.
A final chance given to a body that should have died.
(So, Azrael, close your eyes to me a while longer.)
* * *
”Wow! What a beautiful crown! Golden, sparkling with jewels! The royal crest, and the words ‘Gift to General Asterios’… yes, yes!”
In the backroom of a casino run by a mysterious easterner, a masked man called Illusion carefully examined the crown Kian had brought, peering through insect “glasses.”
”It’s not a fake. Amazing! To think we really got it! Then General Asterios must have died in that expedition to Fire Island thirteen years ago! That’s why his treasures leaked out… but why only now?”
”Well, I have no idea.”
Kian smiled gently from across the tatami.
Illusion handed the crown to his attendant woman, her face covered with a cloth bearing the character “Tamaki.”
”Mr. Coffee Black. Where did you obtain this?”
”That is a secret. Is such a thing necessary here?”
”Of course!”
Illusion slapped his knee and leaned forward.
”Because after I buy it, the royal family might come to my merchant guild demanding it back as stolen goods! Then I’d have to hunt you down for damages! But you—you could just run to another country and live safe and clean, build a mansion with eight hundred gold coins!”
”I thought black market trades were done with those risks in mind… isn’t insurance up to each person?”
Just as Kian tilted his head with that reply, Rou returned through the sliding door.
Thanks to the favor of Huang, the casino’s owner, the eight hundred gold coins from Lord Blumer had been safely delivered to Kian’s guild vault in Crete, even though the bank had long closed.
”…And this person is?”
”White Lolita, Mr. Illusion.”
”Ah, so Tamaki made a contract with you? Thank you! I’ve wanted this crown for ages. Where did you get it?”
”It would violate confidentiality. ――Guildmaster Black, the delivery is complete.”
”Thanks, White.”
”Mmm, but is it really okay for me to accept this crown…?”
’Agree to the contract, then complain at the handover? How rude… well, I guess I can’t entirely blame him.’
(What to do. This man is seriously troubled. If he drags this out for an hour or two, ignoring our side, it’ll be a pain.)
”…Mr. Illusion, your schedule after this—”
”Shut up! Can’t you see I’m thinking? They won’t tell me where they got it, so I’m weighing whether I should accept it or not, running the profit and loss!”
”――――”
Illusion’s attendant quietly stepped back.
Kian let out a faint sigh and spoke.
”We found it on Fire Island.”
”Fire Island? That place is off-limits, isn’t it?”
”We had provisional permission from the royal family.”
”Guildmaster Black.”
Rou’s voice cut in firmly.
He meant to warn Kian—only Kian’s guild had that permission. To admit it risked exposing their identity.
But Illusion’s black eyes behind the mask glittered with suspicion.
”Are you lying? That kind of thing can be checked easily, you know.”
”Mr. Illusion. The contract is already complete, and the crown we brought shows no defects. As for the royal family reclaiming it—that risk is something you accepted the moment you sought Asterios’s crown, a treasure never meant to leave their vault. Am I wrong?”
”Well, you’re right. I know I’m being unreasonable. Hmmm, but still. What should I do…”
”Then why don’t we bet?”
”A bet? On what?”
”On the crown’s origin. A game of chess between you and me. If you win, I’ll tell you the true source and give you a fifty-coin discount.”
”And if you win?”
”Nothing in particular.”
Kian shrugged.
”You’ll simply hand over the eight hundred coins without complaint, and we’ll say our goodbyes.”
”Heeh. Coffee Black, you’re really eager to leave, huh?”
”Mr. Illusion, we also—”
”Ahh, enough, I know time is tight. Fine, let’s play. But listen—I’m pretty good at chess. Influenced by Lord Jibril’s shadow, I study it whenever I get the chance.”
”Is that so? Lord Jibril must be strong.”
”He’s the best in Azrael!”
”Impressive, considering how busy he must be.”
(When I was a child, even he could only manage sixty percent against me. He must be stronger now.)
Rou called for casino staff to bring a board.
The food was cleared from the table, replaced with a wooden chessboard between Kian and Illusion.
With Huang, Rou, and Tamaki watching, the match began.
Illusion was strong.
He knew the openings, clearly studied hard. But Kian was used to these logic puzzles—he read clean through to check and won.
”…”
At the nearly checkmated board, Illusion’s hand froze.
His confident face stiffened, finger pressed to his brow. After long silence, he flicked over his king without a word.
”What…”
His attendant stared in disbelief.
Illusion didn’t move, finger still at his temple.
”Would you like a review?”
Kian thought, *I could beat him ten times in a row,* and offered anyway.
Illusion finally spoke in Azrael tongue.
”Best of five.”
”With respect, isn’t that a different rule?”
Huang intervened softly, but Illusion repeated in the common tongue: “Best of five.”
Kian nodded.
”Very well. Best of five. But no more changes. Fast play, please—we don’t want the day to turn. Agreed, Mr. Illusion?”
”Sorry, Mr. Black. But I need to know it wasn’t a fluke.”
His playful tone was gone.
’Is this okay?’
(It’s fine. I’ll show him—he can’t win against me, not even a hundred times.)
And so, three more games passed with Kian utterly crushing him. From the opening, victory was one-sided.
But in the fifth match, Illusion sacrificed his queen, and Kian’s hand stalled.
If he took it, the checkmate would come faster. But maybe it was a trap. Maybe a bluff.
Kian used his vampire Super Senses—but Illusion had no heartbeat, no breath. He couldn’t tell.
It smelled like a bluff, so he held back. That hesitation flipped the board. He lost. Illusion made no mistakes afterward.
”Ah-ha! Now I’ll win five in a row!”
The man’s voice sparkled like a child’s.
In the sixth game he tried the same trick, but this time Kian ignored the feints, read the checks, and crushed him directly.
Five wins, one loss.
Kian’s victory.
”――――. Ssssshhhhh… tch…”
The moment defeat was set, Illusion seized his king and stood.
He walked to the corner, crushed it in his fist, and burned the shards to ash with a strange technique.
”Damn it! How could I lose!?”
”…”
Watching a loser rage was amusing.
Kian sat expressionless, observing Illusion clawing at his styled hair.
Soon, though, he had his attendant bring a rose-scented towel, wiped his hands clean, tossed it back, and returned smiling as if nothing had happened.
Huang looked pale, but Illusion didn’t care.
”Enough, enough! These things happen—it’s just a game. Still, you’re amazing! I haven’t met someone so strong at the king’s game in ages. Probably second strongest in the world.”
”First is Jibril?”
”――――――”
At the sound of that name, Illusion froze.
His sharp eyes clung to Kian’s lips.
”You were very strong too, Mr. Illusion. Even at five-one, every game was close.”
”Don’t joke. If your loss had come first, maybe I could have won. No… that one win was built on everything before. If you’d just taken the queen, I’d have lost.”
”Yes. I thought someone as strong as you wouldn’t blunder like that, so I didn’t take it.”
”Wonderful. I don’t know your guild, but I’d love a private match someday. Too bad—I may not come to Crete again for a while.”
”Since you trade on the Azrael Sea, you must sell eastern goods in western ports. Encounters are once in a lifetime.”
”A fine meeting. May I shake your hand?”
He couldn’t refuse. Their hands met.
The touch carried the feel of a qi mass formed from shadow.
This man’s true body was somewhere else.
Kian remembered when Jibril possessed Shura’s comrade, or when Venomous Blade appeared through Sarah’s dream.
”I’m good at card games too.”
Illusion spoke with fervor.
”Anyway, time’s up—I have to go. But if we meet again, let’s play! Tamaki!”
He turned to his attendant.
”Give this man a pouch of gems.”
”Yes. Please accept. My master apologizes for the trouble.”
”Is that all right?”
”Of course.”
Illusion smiled brightly, anger forgotten like a dream.
”Or would you prefer grimoires or rare books? From touching your hand I know—you’re a fine magician.”
”If books are possible, I’d be grateful.”
Kian recalled Sarah and Linca saying Izerland fortress had no books.
If his children were to study, better to have schools near Dacia. Rebuilding the fortress library had to start now.
”They’re copies, not originals… but my guild deals in rare texts. Since my grandfather’s time we’ve had ties to a great library in Azrael.”
”Oh? And where is your guild based?”
”That would give me away. Let’s keep it secret. I won’t pry into you either. Your talent deserves the highest respect.”
Illusion bowed gracefully, then told his attendant, “Let this man take as many books as he likes from Warehouse Three,” before leaving quickly.
”Guildmaster, splendidly done.”
”No, nothing special. Sorry to keep you waiting so long—you must have been bored.”
”Not at all. I play chess myself. Though I still can’t accept why you didn’t take the queen, aside from that, it was very, very enjoyable.”
”I see.”
”I’ll handle the rest. We’ll take all the books from Warehouse Three, if that’s all right.”
”Tamaki, is that acceptable?”
Kian asked Illusion’s attendant.
She replied only in Azrael tongue: “Yes. Understood.”
”I’ll guide you to Warehouse Three.”
Huang said that and pointed at the open sliding door of the tatami room.
Kian hefted the chest of gold coins and left the backroom first.
* * *
Before midnight, he finished the bank deposit of the gold coins through the casino, then moved Chin-chin *[T/N: name of golem/vehicle]* to transfer books from Warehouse No. 3.
There were fifty volumes in all.
He was shocked to receive so many, but according to Rou and Tamaki they were ordinary textbooks used in monasteries and academies. Compared to a bundle of diamonds, they were cheap.
Tamaki said that rather than rotting in a damp warehouse, the books would be better cherished on someone’s shelf.
After parting with Huang and Tamaki, Kian and Rou mounted their wyvern golem to circle around Water Island and approach the plateau where old Gaius lived from the west.
On the way, Kian poked his head up from the wyvern’s back when he sensed a familiar wave of magic from an alley near the pier.
”Guildmaster, what is it?”
”Guria. Princess Guria Selda is alone in the northwest alley—by the houses.”
”…Even though her marriage to Asterios is coming soon, how careless of her.”
”She can transform into lightning, immune to physical attacks, fast and strong. It’s natural she feels invincible. Same as how I could toss Linca alone onto Fire Island without worry.”
Though in truth, Linca would probably ignore such orders and come back on her own—anyway.
Guria was an important piece in keeping Kian’s merchant guild running smoothly.
There had been assassination attempts by warrior monks, and besides, this island was crawling with shady types like Blumer and Illusion. Even if she was invincible, a surprise attack was still possible. Better to bring her back.
”If you charge the wyvern’s magic to full, it will carry us to the plateau. I’ll store the books in Gaius’s hut. Please, Chairman, retrieve the princess.”
”Got it. Sorry, I’ll leave it to you.”
With those words, Kian leapt from the wyvern’s back.
He slowed, turning to mist like a black ghost, descending into the town still glowing with New Year’s lights.
Under the magic stone lamps that made the streets shine like a starry sky, Kian landed silently on the peaked roof of a large building.
Guria wore a plain black robe over her head to stay unnoticed, and she seemed to be speaking with someone.
A woman.
Looking closer, he saw they stood in front of magician Luchian’s house, which he had visited earlier that day.
(So that knight-gowned woman is Luchian’s wife.)
The woman spoke to Guria, but kept sobbing, wiping her eyes again and again.
”Guria.”
He couldn’t just keep spying, so he landed in the street and called out.
At once the wife raised her magician’s staff with a tense face, and Guria spun her short spear into guard with beastlike speed.
”Who’s there?”
”It’s me. Kian.”
”Kian!? Oh, heavens, it really is Kian!”
”Kian… ah… yes, you visited our house earlier today.”
”That’s right, madam.”
Kian pulled off his windbreaker robe, showing his casual shirt and trousers beneath.
”Good. Ornella, this man is an ally! Kian, you came at the perfect time. Actually, about this magician Mr. Luchian—”
”Before that, mind telling me why you’re here? Did you sneak out of the palace again? There are incidents happening everywhere, and you go without an escort—what are you thinking?”
”Ah… um… uh, ahaha…”
”Don’t ‘ahaha’ me.”
Kian spoke in exasperation, though inside he was glad Guria had drawn the wife out.
When it was just him and Rou, she refused to meet anyone.
Considering the request from Michelangelo and the others, this was the best chance to hear her out.
He kept that intention hidden as he continued, “So? What game are you playing this time?” he asked Guria.
Notes:
• 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.
• Abbas – The heir of the Shakerdoust family, a prominent clan within the Twelve Divine Generals.
• Linca – Jibril’s favorite girl. High-ranking warrior monk woman from Shin, with strong abilities like ignoring attacks and poisons.
• Luchian – Magician serving Guildmaster Michelangelo Rendano of Crete’s Merchant Guild. Calm, graceful, and reliable, he aids him with conjured items and discreet support. First appears v4c21. Reminder: Loyal guild mage, quiet strength behind his master.
• Michelangelo – Guildmaster of Crete’s Merchant Guild, flamboyant and charming in purple-red finery. Diplomatic yet shrewd, allied with magician Luchia and representing the Guild’s interests. Greets Kian warmly with gifts, opposes Scipio’s restrictions, and requests aid against the Fire Island lava mole-dragon. First appears v4c21. Reminder: Charismatic merchant chief, smooth talker with pragmatic courage.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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