74. The Pirate King of Laxas (1)

About a week and five days after leaving the colony.

“Then, I’ll see you next time! Count!”

“Indeed.”

Leaving behind the merchant who bowed deeply, Alon decided to return to Count Palatio’s estate for now.

He couldn’t drag the treasure carriage he received from the colony around on his future travels.

So he returned to the estate, stored both carriages, and then immediately set off for Lartania.

If the road to Lartania had been completely opposite to the road to Laxas, he would have headed to his destination without hesitation, but fortunately, Lartania was on the way to Laxas.

Of course, even though it was a stopover, it wasn’t the shortest route, so he had to take a detour to some extent, but he willingly accepted that and set off on another journey.

Thus, five days.

“Count.”

Alon was staring blankly at the leisurely stretching forest when Evan, who was driving the carriage, suddenly asked a question.

“Why so?”

“It’s nothing special, but you seem to be troubled these days.”

“Does it look that way?”

“Yes, recently, haven’t you been lost in thought often?”

At Evan’s words, Alon was silent for a moment before answering.

“It seems so.”

“Is it because of that thing you mentioned last time? You said you had something to think about.”

At Evan’s words, he thought.

‘That’s also something I’m curious about.’

However, the reason Alon had been lost in thought recently was not because of faith.

Of course, he was very curious about why he had a vessel that could contain his rank.

But this matter had too little information to ponder or infer alone, so Alon’s current concern was not faith but the last words of the dragonkin.

‘…Two things.’

He recalled the dragonkin who had been talking about magic at that time.

‘As you know, the magic created by a mage fundamentally requires an “image” to be used.’

‘This is an immutable law and truth, as obvious and certain as the sun rising and setting. But – you are ignoring it without a care.’

Alon then recalled the dragonkin extending two slightly sharp index and middle fingers, different from those of humans.

‘That law is immutable. It can never be changed and should never be changed. Therefore, I think you fall into one of two categories.’

‘One is that you, standing here now, might be a being beyond my imagination.’

‘And the other is that you simply do not remember.’

Those two are the conclusions I have reached. Think about it, the dragonkin had said, bidding him farewell. Alon smacked his lips.

‘No matter how I think about it, neither seems right.’

Naturally, Alon was neither a being beyond imagination nor anything else.

If he were such a being as the dragonkin mentioned, he wouldn’t be struggling like this in the first place.

But even so, the part about “memory” that was suggested next did not resonate with Alon at all.

After all, he had never lived in the forgotten age of gods when mages were said to exist.

Even in the game, the forgotten age of gods was just a setting.

The phrases of Babylon or the beastmen were just means to enhance magical attack power, and that setting had never been properly unraveled.

In other words, Alon had learned even a little about the imagery thanks to his conversations with the Dragonfolk.

At first, he asked if there were any other possibilities besides what the Dragonfolk had mentioned.

The Dragonfolk firmly stated that there would be no other possibilities besides those two.

‘Why is it that as time goes by, I learn more unknown facts rather than uncovering what I already know, I wonder.’

Alon sighed briefly but then shrugged.

According to the Dragonfolk, if he eventually went to Raxas, he would be able to see the truth of this world.

……Of course, for him, it was more important to predict whether the truth would bring a crisis to the world rather than just looking into it.

His original goal, both then and now, was to live a peaceful life.

“A peaceful life, huh.”

Evan, who reacted to the low murmur amidst the sound of wheels turning, opened his mouth.

“Do you want to live a peaceful life?”

“Yes.”

“……It doesn’t seem peaceful at all, though?”

“It’s just a bit busy right now.”

“I don’t think it will be any different in a few years…….”

“…….”

Alon said nothing.

……Though he didn’t want to admit it, Alon was actually thinking the same thing.

“Evan,”

“Yes.”

“Eat sweet potatoes for dinner tonight.”

“……What?”

But thinking and speaking are different, so Alon showed a small hint of frustration and looked outside the carriage.

The scenery outside the carriage was peaceful, unlike Alon’s state of mind.

……It was a day when the late sunset was setting.

A few days later, Alon arrived in Lartania and decided to stop by a nearby place to buy a suitable gift before heading to Merd.

He didn’t expect to get the artifact appraisal for free, but he thought it was polite to bring one or two gifts when visiting someone else’s house.

Moreover, he was bothered by the fact that he hadn’t brought a gift when he hurriedly went to handle the foreign affairs last time.

Recalling the old fountain pen in Line’s office, he stopped by a store to buy a fountain pen.

While choosing something that wasn’t too excessive, burdensome, or cheap-looking, I overheard a rumor.

“Did you hear that?”

“What?”

“One of the Tri-Council members died again.”

“I heard that too. Are you talking about ‘Bima’?”

“Yeah, that guy.”

“Hmm, he definitely deserved to die, considering the bribes he took… But now, with another council member, Riat, dead as well.”

“Only Rine is left. That’s why everyone’s in an uproar.”

“Why is that?”

“I heard that she killed all the Tri-Council members.”

“Why? How did that rumor spread?”

“Well, it’s not certain, but I heard they had a fight recently. Apparently, someone insulted her godfather-“

“…??”

A rather unsettling rumor.

####

Deus Macallian, known as the second sword among the five swords of Caliban, had absolute fame within the nation.

Although it was unofficial and unrecorded, the fact that he had already defeated Reinhardt was widely known throughout Caliban.

Of course, despite such dazzling fame and overwhelming charisma, there were occasional rumors that he, despite being a Master Knight, had an unusual fondness for magic.

Or that he would secretly practice strange stances and mimic casting spells when no one was watching during his nightly sword training…

…Anyway, such bizarre rumors couldn’t overshadow the overwhelming fame of Deus Macallian.

However, there were those who didn’t view the situation favorably.

One of them was the prince of Caliban.

Tirian, the second prince and son of King Palmarian IV of Caliban, didn’t welcome the situation.

The reason was his bad blood with Deus Macallian.

Of course, the twisted relationship was none other than his own doing.

Unlike the first prince, who was always considered a candidate for the throne, Tirian was known as the troublemaker of the palace. He had once tried to mess with Deus Macallian’s only sister.

Spewing indecent remarks without any dignity, he had tried to touch Deus Macallian’s only sister and was humiliatingly beaten in a duel sanctioned by the king. Because of that memory, Tirian couldn’t help but hate him.

“Tsk.”

Anyway, the reason he was thinking about Deus, whom he didn’t even want to think about, was because of a secret request he received today.

A request to politically pressure Count Palatio.

Granting the request wasn’t particularly difficult.

No, in fact, it wasn’t just easy; it was a request that had to be fulfilled.

The reason Prince Tyrion, the second prince, could maintain his faction despite his reckless behavior was because of the ‘item’ handed over by the person who made this request.

Moreover, the difficulty of the request itself wasn’t that high.

It was indeed a significant burden to politically maneuver against Count Palatio without any pretext.

After all, Count Palatio was not a noble of Caliban but a noble of the Kingdom of Asteria.

Even though they were bound by a united kingdom, it was something to be cautious about when pressuring another noble in such a manner.

Nevertheless, the reason Tyrion expressed that it was easy to put political pressure on Count Palatio was simple.

The person who sent this letter, under the guise of the second prince of Caliban, had sent quite reasonable information that made it seem not strange to pressure him.

It meant that he could pressure Count Palatio without taking a significant risk.

Moreover, by fulfilling this request, he could also put the person who sent this letter in a slight debt.

The only problem was that Count Palatio had a very close relationship with Deus Macallian.

No, to be more precise, the obstacle was that Deus Macallian liked Count Palatio more than expected.

“Hmm…”

He knew well that if the topic of wizards came up during the meeting of the Five Swords, Deus would immediately start talking about Count Palatio and give a speech about the Count’s greatness for about an hour.

This was because he regularly received reports from one of the swords attached to his faction.

Recently, it had reached the point where people would say, “Is Count Palatio coming up again?” as Deus would suddenly start praising the Count.

‘Hmm…’

Tyrion was troubled.

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Granting the request to antagonize Count Palatio was nothing compared to what he would gain.

Moreover, for someone who disliked Deus, it was a perfect opportunity to mess with the Count whom Deus praised.

However, the reason he couldn’t easily make a decision was that he didn’t know what Deus Macallian would do upon hearing the news.

Despite his absolute fame, wasn’t he like a mad dog?

Tyrion pondered for a while but soon made a decision.

‘No matter how crazy he is, he can’t make a move.’

Tyrion smirked wickedly.

The reason Deus Macallian could beat him to death and humiliate him until now was because he had a pretext.

But without a pretext, no matter how mad Deus Macallian was, he couldn’t touch him.

No matter how small his faction was and how much he had lost the current king’s favor, he was still the second prince of Caliban.

Touching him without any pretext was practically an act of madness, and they surely knew that.

So Tyrion thought, surely he wouldn’t be able to do anything.

…Until a day ago.

Boom!

Tyrion stared blankly ahead.

The office door of the annex where the second prince was staying had been thoroughly smashed, and a man stood there.

A man holding a wooden sword in one hand, Deus Macallian.

“The sword of Caliburn greets the successor of the Five Swords.”

With his piercing purple eyes shining.

“I came because I have something to ask.”

He had come to find him.

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