052. City of Shadows (2)

There was something I definitely felt on the journey to Igrosia.

Indeed, wizards are useful.

Setting aside the aspect of personality, they were a breed that elevated the dignity of the human species by several levels.

There was a situation that made me say so throughout.

It was like that from the start.

– Detection magic has caught a living creature. It’s a carriage. Fourteen, one expert, eleven beginners. Two ordinary people. It seems to be a noble family’s carriage. Let’s move slightly to the northeast to avoid it.

Beatrice’s detection magic detected creatures within a few hundred meters and found a path that wouldn’t reveal us.

Filtering out the nobles or merchant groups traveling between the satellite cities, the hunting commoners, and other adventurers camping out, the reduction in mobility due to stealth was revolutionary.

Even though the movement itself was so helpful, the highlight was definitely camping.

– Fire.

Whoosh!

Forget firewood, just break a few branches and immediately start a fire.

– House.

Crack!

When told to build a house, they made a dugout with earth to provide a space to sleep.

In addition to the vigilance magic during camping, and the cognitive interference barrier to conceal smoke, there were countless things that could be done with magic, reducing the fatigue from the journey to almost nothing.

There were mixed feelings.

Half of me thought it was great because it was so convenient, and the other half was annoyed at this woman who made such convenient wizards all useless.

Of course, now that I’ve returned, the former feeling is stronger.

Unlike my thoughts, the prince was a bit dissatisfied.

Of course, it wasn’t just complaints about the environment.

– Hey, while you’re at it, could you at least pretend to listen to me about the pillow?

– Hey, wizard. Why is the floor of my hut the only one that’s damp?

– …Yuren, since it seems like she only listens to you, could you tell her? Water! Please, give me some water!!!

How should I put it, even I could tell that Beatrice didn’t like the Crown Prince at all.

Honestly, what could I do about their feelings?

Moreover, considering the etiquette… The Magic Tower had its own autonomy, so Beatrice, who was in line for succession, wasn’t obligated to obey the Crown Prince’s orders.

It was an autonomy gained by Lorna Woodwitch.

Being the official successor of the hero who stopped the demon, if you put aside personal flaws, those two were almost on equal footing.

And so, this situation arose because both of them acted as they pleased.

What should I say?

From noble mtl dot com

Should I side with the Crown Prince?

I thought about it but decided, ‘Why bother?’

After all,

“Water.”

Drip…

Doesn’t she listen to me well?

Why should I intervene?

It’s not my business that they don’t get along.

‘If it’s an official matter, the Crown Prince will handle his emotions and deal with it. As for this woman, if I tell her, she’ll understand, so there’s no worry about sudden actions.’

So I decided to roughly ignore it.

I’m not a nursery teacher who has to make the kids reconcile.

Water flowed from the magic circle into the cup.

Maybe because it was conjured by magic, drinking it made my mana slightly replenish.

Feeling my throat cool and my insides fill up, I looked at Beatrice.

She was fiddling with her hair again.

“Stop touching it. Your hair will get damaged.”

Beatrice flinched and silently withdrew her hand.

“…That’s true.”

He turned his head.

I don’t know why he’s acting like that.

No, it’s not something I should worry about.

I erased my thoughts and looked at the distant Igrosia.

It’s my first time seeing it in person.

If I were to describe my impression…

“It’s really filthy.”

“…Well, isn’t it a city of criminals?”

It wasn’t that its appearance was dirty, but the aura emanating from it was.

I could see it with my eyes.

Corrupted mana, traces of different races, and cursed items passing through the place made the entire city covered in soot-like mana.

It really made me not want to go in.

But it’s unfortunate that we have to go in.

It was the moment I sighed.

“So, what are you going to do?”

“First, we need to infiltrate. We have to check the internal situation of the city, don’t we?”

Knowing something is suspicious and just causing a ruckus?

If your thinking is as short as a goblin’s finger, that kind of behavior might be understandable.

The essence of infiltration and investigation is to gather the opponent’s information unilaterally while hiding your identity.

So, first, a disguise.

“Hey.”

“Yes, I can do it.”

Clack—

The prosthetic arm opened, revealing the internal magical mechanism.

A magic circle formed there, and soon magic took shape on the palm.

So, that was her staff.

I was so surprised when I first saw it.

Anyway, Beatrice covered her face with the prosthetic arm.

Then her face changed, and her hair color turned brown.

A fierce-looking woman with an eye patch was looking at me.

It was the moment I thought that face suited him.

“Will this do?”

His voice had changed too.

Magic is indeed convenient.

“Yes, for me and His Highness as well.”

“Yes.”

The first prince created was, in a word, ugly.

Half bald with a pockmarked face.

He looked suitably villainous…

“Now it’s your turn.”

“Don’t make it as fierce as that.”

“What’s wrong with my face?”

“You look suitably villainous.”

“Hmm…”

In the middle of the conversation, Beatrice approached me.

Wondering what she was up to, she placed her hands on my face.

Both the right and left sides.

Then she kneaded it here and there.

Is she making it with care?

“Do it roughly. A face that stands out too much is troublesome.”

“Yes.”

Thus, the face was made.

The prince evaluated it.

“Hmm, it’s plain.”

“Isn’t that the best?”

“It doesn’t look criminal.”

“People who look like criminals don’t commit crimes. It’s the ones who look normal that are truly scary.”

“Is that from experience?”

“Why are you picking a fight?”

When I glared at him, he shrugged his shoulders.

It seems like my old personality is coming out more and more.

“…Let’s go. Just.”

We gathered everything we needed and moved.

After finishing our disguises, we headed to the main gate.

That was the plan.

‘Disguised as a criminal fleeing from the south.’

We would blend into the heart of Igrosia and investigate.

Showing a more local side rather than a complete outsider would reduce suspicion.

We had to establish our position that way.

Ultimately, there was one goal.

‘An audience with the Dagger of the Observer.’

There is one public fact.

When a group from outside builds a reputation inside, the Dagger of the Observer, the roof of Igrosia, makes contact.

After that, they receive more secretive and directly related requests from Igrosia, and some even get recruited by the Dagger of the Observer.

‘We’ll know when we get there. What kind of tricks they’re up to.’

To not only beat Gilroar but also to bring out those who were scheming behind him, this much was necessary.

I checked one last time.

‘I have a forged identity. I personally picked it from the list of southern criminals.’

There was nothing that would raise suspicion in a background check.

So the remaining problem was how to quickly reach that position.

Well, isn’t it obvious?

In a city of criminals, you have to follow their rules.

“Stop! Who are you!”

A guard of Igrosia, indistinguishable from a thug, blocked our way.

I stepped forward.

And then,

“Watch your mouth, you b*stard.”

Bang!

I grabbed the guard’s head and slammed it into the ground.

Ah, it’s been a while. This feeling.

“The sentry brat’s speech is short.”

He opened his eyes menacingly and glared at the sentry.

Then he felt the sentry trembling.

“Wh-who are y-you…”

“Do I have to say that to be let in? I came all the way from the south because they said they’d let me in even if I didn’t know.”

It wasn’t an unfounded action.

Igrosia was actually like that.

Either bribe your way in, or intimidate the sentry to get in.

If you think of entering in a normal way, that side becomes suspicious.

Gulp, the sentry swallowed dryly.

He avoided my eyes sneakily, then answered.

“…Please, come in.”

“Of course. Brat.”

He patted the sentry’s cheek.

Then he tossed a silver coin to the sentry.

“Here. Compensation. What are you doing? Hurry up and go in.”

He spoke to the prince and Beatrice.

The two blinked, then followed me in awkwardly.

‘Hmm.’

Both seem to lack talent for hooliganism.

* * *

Gilrogar had a dream.

It was now an old past event.

The bottom of Igrosia.

In the sewers where dozens, hundreds starve to death every day, Gilrogar saw a boy.

A boy who had black hair very similar to his own and had bright eyes.

-If you have food, please share a little.

-Huh? I don’t have any either.

-You will have some.

-Oh, why do you think so?

He was a boy who piqued interest.

Even while starving and on the brink of death, he calmly asked for help. He found me among the many people who were hiding their presence, and he used honorifics even though he seemed to be of the same age.

– Your gait is different. Sewer beggars don’t walk with such large strides, nor do they lift their heads. Above all, they don’t look around. They aren’t that relaxed.

– Why do you use honorifics? We seem to be of similar age.

– No, we wouldn’t be. Children don’t smile like that.

It had been a life of wandering for quite some time.

Among the people he met in such a life, the boy was particularly brilliant.

Curiosity was piqued.

To think that he met such a talent in a place he came to just to gather information about a curse.

That curiosity soon turned into a whim.

– You, you want to live, don’t you?

– Everyone would.

– No, you would be different.

Girgore extended his hand to the boy.

Half in jest, half in earnest, and with some resolve.

– You, I think I can make you full.

– I’ll do anything if you can.

– What makes you trust me?

– I trust that you don’t place much value on me. Since you’ll use me as a toy, I can fulfill that role.

– I really like you.

That day, Girgore created his alter ego.

– Your name is now Girgore. You will live with my name and become the master of this place.

– The honor is mine, and you will gain practical benefits.

– Ha, you’re a masterpiece.

He gave him a name.

A name like his own, as the boy resembled him.

And he gave him a position.

He seated the boy on the throne he had created.

The puppet boy knew his place, was clever, and deeply loyal.

Just by ensuring he didn’t starve, the boy served him with all his heart and soul.

That moment must have been enjoyable.

So, he stayed for ten years, which was not part of the plan.

The boy grew up to become a young man, and the group he created for the first time in his life became the master of the city.

Girgoor found joy in all those processes.

He also enjoyed living a life of mingling with others while having a lieutenant.

However, in the end, he couldn’t stay in one place, so he left.

He entrusted everything to the boy who had become a young man.

– Keep it safe until I return. I have something to find out, so I’ll be away for a while.

– I will always guard the master’s throne.

– Hmm, excellent, Girgoor.

– …Master.

– Get used to it. You are Girgoor now.

Surely, it was a satisfying farewell.

“Master.”

Girgoor opened his eyes at the call.

A shabby inner room dimly lit by a flickering candle.

The place where everything began.

And, the place that showed signs of neglect.

There, Girgoor opened his mouth.

“Yes, Rabon.”

“I found them.”

“It took a while. They left the capital a week ago.”

“…They were in disguise. It was so natural, and their actions were so seamless.”

“Really? What were they doing?”

Girgoor felt intrigued.

Rabon, being the oldest subordinate to whom he had given his ‘eyes,’ should not have easily escaped his perception.

Yet, he lost track of them for a week.

And the reason was that their actions were seamless.

“Interesting. Being a prince, a grand duke, and the heir to the magic tower, it must have been hard to adapt to the culture here.”

When asked, Rabon hesitated slightly, as if troubled.

“That is…”

“Hmm? It’s okay, just tell me.”

When pressed, that was the answer that came back.

“…We are conquering the district.”

Suddenly, Gilgore’s body froze.

Rabon bowed his head deeply.

“We are destroying all of Hayas’ territory in the northeast and forming a group. The aliases are Kulkaran, Dern, and Moira. They are actual criminals who disappeared from the south.”

It was right after that.

“Ha ha ha!!!”

Gilgore burst out laughing with a bang.

He stomped his feet, then tried to stop laughing by slapping his thighs.

His mind raced at the unexpected action.

Gilgore felt genuinely cheerful for the first time in a long while.

Who could be the leader?

Yes, the most likely one is…

“Tessa. Yuren Faros. That man, right? He is a notorious rogue.”

“Yes, it’s hard to tell who is who, but judging by the actions, the one using the name Kulkaran is probably Yuren Faros.”

“Wow…”

What an interesting person.

Gilgore spoke in an excited voice.

“I want to see him soon.”

“Yes, I will lead the contact.”

“Okay, don’t make me wait too long.”

Gilgore smiled broadly.

The pleasant news was especially welcome.

He was able to quickly shake off the unpleasant dream.

< City of Shadows (3) >

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