Chapter 14

The Stench (2)

Hoooom—

Two fireballs tangled together as they flew forward. Just before hitting the wall, they split apart to either side, then rejoined midair and returned to Isaac’s hand.

Sss—

Kkagak!

This time, one of the fireballs extinguished, and a shard of ice formed in its place.

Whooong!
Swaeaaak—

At the same moment the fireball shot forward, the ice shard curved through the air.
The fireball was a feint.
The real attack was the ice shard.

Just as the fireball and ice shard were about to hit the wall,
Isaac cut off the mana.
The fireball vanished midair, and the ice shard shattered upon impact with the wall.

“Phew.”

He wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Ever since his mana pathways increased to five, he’d begun to feel that relying on just one type of magic was no longer sufficient.

Niers, the man Isaac had killed for the first time, had been careless.
He also wasn’t the type who had ever faced a mage.
His original homeland lay beyond the northern frontier.

A tribal settlement beneath the White Serpent Mountain Range.
There, he had killed his own father for assaulting his mother, and was cast out from the tribe.
After that, he drifted into the slums of Bern City, and those he preyed upon were all low-level thugs scraping by at the bottom.

According to what Jonas had said in Isaac’s previous life, the reason he survived was because he knew the hidden passages of the sewage system and the terrain of the forests near the White Serpent Mountains.
His notoriety came not from strength enough to challenge Goethe, but because he relentlessly slaughtered weak commoners and displayed their corpses.
That much was obvious from how easily he died to Isaac’s magic.

The magic Isaac used was rare in magical society, but with a frost mana stone, it was considered basic-level magic.
Niers had simply been ignorant when it came to dealing with mages.

Isaac didn’t keep modifying and training his magic because of people like Niers.

But for the enemies he would one day face—
Mage hunters hired by factions targeting Goethe.
Knights who had lost their honor.
Inquisitors created by the old church that viewed magic as the exclusive privilege of clergy.
And many more.

Enemies optimized for killing mages.
They knew a mage’s weaknesses and how to exploit them.

He had to stop the Second Prince from dragging the Empire into things and bringing ruin to the kingdom.
But if he failed—
the coming age of war would be the worst possible era for mages.

It was no coincidence that Goethe would later declare itself a city-state—the only refuge guaranteeing the freedom of mages.

Even if Isaac had returned to the past, he couldn’t protect everything.
But the things that must not be lost—those, he would protect no matter what.

His relentless variation and training in magic were preparation for that.

“Again.”

Isaac raised his hand.
Flames ignited.

***

“Young master, young master!”

Isaac opened his eyes in the late morning.
Despite the sun being up, the sky was overcast, and the window rattled with strong wind.

“Please wake up.”
“Mmm… what is it?”

Hans and the nanny burst in almost at the same time.
Hans placed a brass basin on the bedside table, drew the curtains, and rekindled the dying embers in the fireplace.
The nanny soaked a cloth in the basin and wiped Isaac’s face, smoothing his messy hair.

Having trained magic until dawn, Isaac was still half-asleep.

“Get a hold of yourself. What were you doing last night to sleep so late again?”
“Just… reading a bit.”

Isaac muttered with half-lidded eyes.

“Hans, the clothes.”
“Ah, yes.”

At the nanny’s instruction, Hans handed over a tunic.
The nanny dressed Isaac, who still could barely keep his eyes open.

“What’s going on?”
“The master has returned.”
“Father?”
“Yes. He asked that you and the young master join him for lunch.”

At that, Isaac felt his heart begin to race.

— Go on ahead and wait. When you come to me, leave all regrets behind.

The last image Isaac had of his father was of an old, frail man.
His golden hair turned white, cheeks hollow, and his once-imposing presence gone.
A weary old man worn down by the world.

Until the end, the count had tried to preserve his eldest son’s dignity.
To end a life that would otherwise be buried underground until death,
he had personally taken Valerich and intended to end Isaac’s life himself.

“Young master! Wake up properly!”

The anxious nanny called out.
Of course, Isaac had long been awake.
He was simply wandering through the swamp of old memories.

How had he died again?
According to Jonas, a bishop of the old church had poisoned him.
Something called the “Saint’s Curse.”

Not wanting to show weakness, he hadn’t come to see Isaac until the very end.

“……”

“Young master!”
“Stop fussing. I’m fully awake.”

Isaac adjusted the tunic over his underclothes.

“I’ll change on my own. You and Hans can leave.”

At his words, Hans and the nanny exchanged glances, gave a slight bow, and left the room.

Isaac stood before the mirror and looked at himself.

Sometimes, when he missed his father,
he would look into a mirror.

Because his prematurely aged face resembled his father’s.

Isaac had ash-gray hair rather than blond, and his features were sharper,
but the blood of Goethe was undeniable.

Seeing his father in his own reflection brought both comfort and bitterness.
Despite sharing such similar features,
they had never once had an open, heartfelt conversation as father and son.

Someday… I will.

Someday.
When the time came to lay everything down,
Isaac intended to act spoiled, just once, before his father.

He didn’t know when that day would come.

***

“So what kind of monster was it this time?”
“Rather than a monster, it was a Shuniman.”
“Shuniman?”
“A primitive giant. The tribes have their own cultures, but the Shuniman are far more savage. Think of a giant covered in white fur from head to toe. They’ll eat anything—humans or wild beasts. Even their own kind.”
“Wow.”

At the count’s explanation, Jonas’s mouth hung open.

A dining table from a childhood he could barely remember.
And his father in his younger days.

It was very different from Isaac’s memories.

A physique more suited to a knight than a mage,
deep golden hair, a neatly groomed beard, and sharp, gleaming eyes.

The frail old man Isaac remembered was nowhere to be found.
He looked every bit the head of a knightly house.

The count wasn’t as stiff and cold as Isaac had thought.

“If it’s a giant, it must be huge, right? Is it bigger than you, Father?”
“Yes. If a Shuniman entered this dining hall, its head would reach the ceiling.”

Despite Jonas’s endless questions, the count answered each one without irritation.
However, his face remained expressionless throughout.

There was no warm gaze or smile one would expect from a father toward his child,
nor any sign of fatigue despite having just returned after over a month defending the fortress.

“Father, look at this!”

Jonas, who had been bombarding him with questions, suddenly pulled out a wooden figurine.

“A knight. Brave.”
“Yes. It’s Mut.”
“Mut?”
“I saw it in ancient language class. Mut means courage in the common tongue. So I named it that.”
“I see. It suits it well. I didn’t know you had such skill with your hands.”

The count examined the wooden figure briefly, then handed it back.

“Hyung carved it for me! Isn’t it cool?”
“Isaac did?”

At Jonas’s words, the count’s gaze turned toward Isaac.

“I see.”

That was the extent of the count’s reaction.
He returned to his meal.

Jonas kept chattering until the meal was over, and the count merely gave appropriate responses—nothing more.
He neither asked nor said anything further to his sons.

Preferring a modest table out of consideration for the soldiers on the frontier, the count kept meals short.
A few pieces of rye bread, a portion of venison, vegetable soup, and diluted wine.
It didn’t take long to finish such a meal.

“Hyung, let’s play!”

As soon as the meal seemed to be ending, Jonas spoke up.
He had been watching Isaac for a chance this whole time and finally seized it.
For a nine-year-old, he had held back for quite a long time.

Isaac spent most of his days shut in his room except for early morning runs, and even when Jonas came to visit, he would usually turn him away.

Isaac understood how Jonas felt, but he couldn’t answer right away.
His gaze kept drifting to Jonas’s small right hand.
At the same time, like a ringing in his ears, he could hear Jonas’s desperate cries, clutching that hand.

“Sorry, but……”

“Jonas. You’ll have to put that off for a bit.”

Just as Isaac was about to speak, the count intervened.

“I have business with Isaac. Isaac, I’ll be in the study. Come once you’ve finished eating.”

The count wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up.
His plate was already spotless.

“Sorry, Jonas.”

Watching his father leave the dining hall, Isaac spoke to him.

“Tch.”

Jonas pouted.

“Young master, huff… huff… young master!”

As Isaac was about to leave the dining hall a moment later, Bill hurried over, calling out to him.

“Huff… why are you here at this hour? You’re always in your room. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“Do I have to wait in my room for you all the time?”

Isaac glanced at Jonas, who was walking away with the nanny.
The bad memories lodged like thorns in his soul showed no sign of fading.
Perhaps because he had disturbed those long-buried thorns, Isaac felt his nerves sharpen.

“What are you saying? It’s just that it’s urgent.”

Bill’s face was pale as lead.

“Urgent?”
“This isn’t something to discuss here. This way.”

After glancing around, Bill led him to a corner of the mansion’s backyard.
At lunchtime, unless there was a special banquet, even the servants were resting, so the place was quiet.

“What is it?”
“Do you… know anything about the knights of Winterband?”
“Knights?”
“I heard from Niers’s underlings—they said they have to pay tribute to the knights regularly.”
“Tribute? What?”
“What else? A portion of the money earned from slave trading.”
“And why?”
“They say the reason Niers could keep operating in the sewers was because the knights were backing him.”

“……”

Isaac’s expression hardened.

“I got the report this morning. There was a body from our side at the entrance of Niers’s hideout. Normally, knife fights happen there all the time, so we didn’t think much of it. But still, we need revenge to save face… and, well, you know, I’ve become the boss now……”

Bill rambled without getting to the point.
He was clearly flustered.

“What are you trying to say?”
“Well, you see… the dead guy—except for his left pinky, all his fingers were cut off.”

Bill fumbled at his waist pouch and pulled something out.

“This… was placed by my bedside this morning. All of them… neatly arranged.”

What Bill revealed were human fingers.
Dirty, grimy, drained of blood and turned black.

“These are his fingers?”
“I’m sure of it. Aside from the one pinky left, all nine others were there. And they even sent a message through one of our guys planted in the estate. If we don’t prepare the tribute within two days… next time, it’ll be my fingers.”

Bill looked at Isaac with a desperate expression.

“Please, do something. I only became boss because you forced me into it. If I die like this, you won’t be safe either. At least help with the tribute money. I couldn’t even sell off the maids yet—what tribute?”

“Watch your mouth.”

Isaac glared at him.
Under that cold gaze, Bill immediately fell silent.

Though only twelve years old, Isaac was the one who had effortlessly taken Niers’s life right before his eyes.

Damn it, what am I supposed to do?

Caught awkwardly in the middle, Bill couldn’t openly voice his frustration.

“Were there any witnesses when he was killed?”
“There were. But it happened so fast, they didn’t see clearly. They said the blade flashed once, and a living man became a corpse. The fingers were cut off in an instant too.”
“What about the killer’s appearance?”
“They didn’t see that clearly either. Just that he had bandages wrapped around his head. Could be some wandering outcast, or maybe a wounded soldier or mercenary. Hard to tell.”

Bill’s face grew even paler.

“I understand.”
“…That’s it? That’s all?”
“Don’t worry. You won’t die.”

With that, Isaac headed toward his father’s study.

This wasn’t something Jonas had mentioned in his previous life.
Originally, at this point in time, Niers shouldn’t have died.
Bill wouldn’t have become the boss either.

Unlike the terrified Bill, Isaac felt something entirely different.

Disgust—
and betrayal.

Those bastards… the knights of Winterband…

His teeth clenched on their own.

“We must convene a military council immediately. Someone like that should be beheaded at once to restore discipline.”

As Isaac reached the count’s private study, a firm voice echoed from inside.
Armed soldiers stood at the entrance, bowing to Isaac in greeting.

“Unlike you, Fikel, you’re being rather hasty.”
“Isn’t this a matter of discipline? If someone can do such things and still keep their head, who would follow our orders?”
“And you think the same, Randolph?”
“I will follow the commander-in-chief’s decision.”
“Randolph, you stubborn man.”
“That’s enough. Let’s leave it at that.”

Soon, the door to the study opened, and two men stepped out.
Both wore chainmail and surcoats bearing Goethe’s emblem—a shield symbolizing the kingdom’s shield.

“Oh! Isn’t this young master Isaac? Last time I saw you, you barely reached my thigh. You’ve grown.”
“My greetings, young master Isaac.”

The tall, slender man greeted him cheerfully, while the broad, solidly built man placed a hand over his chest and bowed.

They weren’t familiar faces to Isaac.
From what he had overheard, the tall one was Fikel, and the broad one was Randolph.

But Isaac’s gaze fixed on Randolph.
A bandage ran diagonally across his head.
Where his ear should have been was flat, and dried brown blood had seeped through.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir Fikel, Sir Randolph. It seems the battle was difficult. I hope your injuries aren’t too severe.”

Isaac and Randolph’s gazes met in the air.

“Haha, I heard you were frail due to a unique condition. But you’re still sharp as ever—remembering our names and all. Hahaha.”

Fikel laughed heartily.

But Isaac did not laugh.
Like his father—
his face remained expressionless.