Chapter 181: The Expedition’s Conclusion (2) |
“Having friends sure makes even hot water feel nice.”
Shiron exclaimed in delight, feeling the warm water for the first time in a while. Ordinary soldiers couldn’t even dream of taking a bath in cold water, let alone one heated by a boiler that kept gushing forth—as expected of a prince.
The building, constructed solely for the duration of the expedition, lacked any amenities or servants to assist in bathing, which ironically added to his sense of liberation.
“…You can practice anywhere, Demodras said.”
Shiron watched the droplets fall as he turned off the valve.
Gong—
A sound utterly different from what he had imagined echoed as the ripples spread.
Just by watching,
Just by the droplets hitting the bathroom tiles, a sound was produced.
“Really… it’s fascinating.”
Shiron marveled at the phenomenon he created, continuing to manipulate the mana. The dispersed mana condensed the bathroom’s steam into a single flow.
Tstssts—
In an instant, a tiny stream floated in mid-air. The bathroom was dry, and not a single drop remained on Shiron’s body, making it impossible to believe these came from the locked valve.
The will-imbued mana had gathered the freely floating moisture.
This was not something a mere 2-star magician could achieve.
But Shiron was a Prient.
The Prient lineage was truly a divine gift.
Even without sleep for days, his body, intertwined with the heart of Demodras, produced a phenomenon that could only be described as miraculous.
Shiron inhaled deeply, feeling an exhilarating sense of accomplishment.
“…Ah.”
The air tasted sweet.
Though it had been just over a month, the hard work in magic practice felt rewarding. While savoring this pleasure, he sensed someone approaching from beyond the door.
-Are you done washing?
Despite the water having stopped some time ago, Shiron hadn’t emerged, prompting Victor to check on him.
The water splashed down to the floor, disrupted. After finishing his practice, Shiron strode towards the door, which opened slightly, revealing an arm holding something out.
“…What’s this?”
“I can’t let you wear dirty clothes after all that washing. I got some clean ones ready while you were bathing.”
The hand holding the clothes waved up and down, urging him to take them. Although it seemed overly polite for men to interact this way, Shiron decided not to dwell on it.
“…Thanks.”
He simply stared at the clothes handed to him.
‘Maybe I shouldn’t have borrowed them?’
An odd feeling prompted Shiron to smell the clothes. It was something he felt compelled to do, a ‘Prient’ intuition.
However, contrary to his alarming intuition, the clothes smelled only of a pleasant aromatic oil.
“…What am I doing?”
Feeling something akin to contempt, Shiron sighed. This feeling was directed not at anyone else, but at himself.
Even if he suspected Victor to be gay, Victor was a childhood friend who shared memories from their youth and watched his back, taking on his own risks.
‘…It’s weird for me to be upset about not showing a naked body to another man.’
As if punishing himself, Shiron slapped his forehead, corrected his crooked feelings, and changed into the new clothes.
Emerging from the bathroom, Victor wore not pajamas but a crisp uniform.
He indeed looked like a picture. It was like watching a Hollywood actor or seeing an exceptionally good-looking idol.
That’s because the prince, illuminated by flickering candlelight, bore a lonely figure burdened with unrequited parental love and the responsibilities of a deceased sibling, eliciting a strangely paternal affection…
‘Ah, damn it.’
‘I am not gay. I am not gay…’
Shiron repeatedly slapped his cheeks.
“Want a cup of coffee?”
“No, thanks. It doesn’t take that long to match stories.”
Shiron, sitting opposite Victor, rubbed his swollen cheeks. He decided not to heal them with holy power, choosing instead to keep the numbness through the night.
Victor casually dismissed Shiron’s odd behavior once again.
“Putting that aside, you were officially on a special mission until yesterday.”
“…Why?”
“A while ago, Captain Igor inquired about your whereabouts. I covered for you with that excuse.”
“…And Captain Igor believed that?”
Shiron asked Victor with a look of surprise. Victor touched his cool forehead and sighed deeply.
“He probed a bit but didn’t dig deeper. Seems he knows I’m looking out for you.”
“The special mission.”
“So now we need to create results for that. I’ve thought about it. What kind of special mission could you wrap up quickly?”
Victor leaned in, speaking with enough enthusiasm that Shiron almost pulled back.
“Since it’s called a special mission, it should be something impressive enough to earn applause, right?”
“Right.”
“Just killing a few demons won’t cut it. Nor would healing the wounded. It’d be ridiculous to claim you did that secretly when priests from Lucerne are already doing it.”
Victor tapped the table firmly as he continued.
“So what I came up with is… tracking down a terrorist.”
“…Suddenly?”
“Not suddenly! You yourself said the woman who took Natalia was much stronger than you.”
“She is stronger than me…”
Shiron remembered the barbarian glowing like a beast.
Although she only broke her legs falling off a sheer cliff, her strength was not merely due to her robust body.
Yoru was so strong against humans that no one could match her.
Her innate talent in swordsmanship was so renowned that even Kyrie, reincarnated as Lucia, would acknowledge it in a separate line.
Victor was pleased with Shiron’s confident response.
“Just to confirm, how much do you know about this woman? Just a glance and you think she’s stronger—doesn’t sound like an expert’s intuition.”
Shiron closed his eyes tightly and shook his head at Victor’s question.
‘…I’m not exactly an expert.’
Being able to slice a giant demon in one stroke and still not considering oneself an expert was strange. However, Victor, who grew up watching not only Hugo but also Lucia and Siriel’s prowess, naturally had high standards for strength.
“The one who killed the knights was Yoru. Natalia, I… don’t know.”
“Besides the name, what else?”
“Just a moment.”
Shiron raised his hand to stop Victor, not because it was hard to recall information about the two, but because he was worried about how much he could share with Victor.
He didn’t remember much about Natalia, as she might not even exist, but he knew quite a bit about Yoru, perhaps even exaggeratedly so.
No, given how much the original story had twisted, he knew things that could be considered her fate, so it might not even be an exaggeration.
[Yoru, the Warrior of Silleya]
She was descended from the tribespeople of the northern regions, carrying on Kyrie’s bloodline. However, this did not mean Yoru was a direct descendant of Kyrie.
The script clearly stated that Kyrie’s direct descendants were the Prients. Yet, Shiron also thought that Yoru had a strong inheritance of Kyrie’s blood.
‘Prients claim descent from Kyrie, but the blood has mixed a lot over 500 years.’
Thus,
It was not strange at all to think that the people of Silleya, who had preserved the bloodline purely, were the true descendants and heirs of Kyrie.
Shiron also recalled something beyond the setup.
If things went as in the original, Lucia would end up fighting to rescue hostages from Yoru in the burning parliament, using both the internal and rapid sword styles, making her a crazily difficult boss to play against, even as Lucia.
Avoiding attacks meant hostages would die one by one, reducing rewards, so there was a bad feeling about having to struggle through using grappling and other techniques.
However,
Shiron had intentionally spared Yoru.
Soon, an apostle would awaken in the extermination event.
Not the soft demons they had faced before, but colossal monsters that could devastate the empire would continuously emerge.
In Reincarnation of the Sword Saint, there were chances for retries, but not now.
The story had originally progressed that way, and even those who stepped into the demonic path remained unharmed.
“We need to tighten security at the airship docks and control civilian access to the parliament too.”
“…Is that where the incident will happen?”
“Exactly. She never learned chivalry, and her temper is so foul she sees nothing when enraged.”
But Shiron didn’t want any more innocent sacrifices.
He decided to disclose everything about the planned terrorism.
The next day, Shiron, dressed in uniform, sought out Igor.
“Ah, talking about that savage?”
Igor squinted at the young man who had shown his face for the first time in a while and chuckled.
“A squad led by Eugen killed her. They saw her fall off the cliff and verified she didn’t move, so she must be dead.”
“…Really?”
“Seeing your surprise, it seems it was a waste of effort. But such things happen. Don’t regret your youth’s failures too much. But next time, make sure to report in time. Considering my relationship with Viscount Hugo and our acquaintance, I’ll let it slide this time…”
‘Should I tell him she’s alive?’
Shiron pressed his itching lips together and decided to listen to his lecture.
