“Fuck, without my permission, what—”
Leonardo stopped mid-sentence, covering his mouth with the hand that had reached for the scholar’s collar. A wave of nausea struck him.
Feeling like everything he’d eaten earlier was about to come up, he clutched his mouth and drew slow, deep breaths.
No. Don’t think about it.
As Leonardo turned away, his complexion suddenly pale, the scholar watched him with narrowed eyes. After a moment of scrutiny, he seemed to realize something and spoke again.
“I’m sorry for administering the drug without permission, but I couldn’t exactly wake an unconscious person and ask. It’s nothing strange, so don’t worry. There’s nothing for me to gain by doing something unnecessary—can’t you trust my good nature, just a little?”
His good nature’s long dead.
Leonardo shot him a curse-filled look, but as the worst-case scenarios filled his mind, the nausea only worsened. He closed his eyes tightly and tried to think positively.
Right. If the man had given him something strange, he would have noticed by now. As annoying as this scholar was, it seemed true that thanks to the stabilizer—whatever it was—the flow of his mana had returned to normal.
No abnormalities since he’d woken up. And though he had Nero’s ring, even he had doubted his mana would stabilize this well.
Now, hearing the scholar’s words, he finally understood. Unsettling or not, the effect was real.
Perhaps because of that thought, his stomach slowly calmed. He sighed softly and lowered the hand covering his mouth. Then, glancing at the scholar, he said coldly,
“If there’s even the ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) slightest abnormality in my body, you won’t be leaving this peninsula alive.”
“I get threatened even after helping.”
The scholar’s tone carried a flicker of displeasure despite the smile he still wore. Leonardo glared at him, raised his cigarette, then grimaced—the queasiness lingered, and the taste had turned bitter.
It felt like a sign to stop smoking so much. He burned out the barely-smoked cigarette and, almost mocking the man’s annoyance, said,
“You didn’t help for nothing, did you?”
Kenis had claimed the scholar only helped out of responsibility, since the outsider had escaped with the bag and they’d been caught in the blast. But Leonardo didn’t buy it.
They were strangers. If the scholar had abandoned them, his risk of being discovered would have lessened. Why stay? Clearly, he had his own motives.
The scholar grinned.
“I didn’t help for nothing. I’m very interested in pretty kids—like you.”
“...”
Leonardo thought that acting like a bastard as naturally as breathing was a talent in itself. He frowned and fixed the scholar with a long, silent stare.
Then, without warning, the scholar’s hand reached for his neck. Leonardo instantly caught his wrist, startled, glaring as if to ask what the hell he thought he was doing. But the man seemed unconcerned, his face alive with intrigue.
“According to that friend Kenis, your instability comes from the Council’s handcuffs. Hm. Strange. Isn’t this actually one of the causes? Feels like quite a complex curse.”
“...”
“Who put this on you? Some master with exotic tastes? Well, with this face, even nonexistent tastes would appear.”
“Hey.”
Leonardo tightened his grip on the man’s wrist, his tone edged with warning.
“Are you deliberately pushing me so I’ll hit you? Even when I try to let it slide, you keep crossing the line.”
The scholar’s expression twisted faintly from the pain. Leonardo’s eyes sharpened.
“Cut the bullshit and speak plainly.”
He wasn’t going to listen to any more nonsense.
“What do you want?”
At those words, silence settled.
The scholar’s frown smoothed, and his long eyes curved into slits—eerily, as though this was what he’d been waiting for.
Leonardo’s expression hardened in contrast. The pain on the man’s face had vanished, even with bones close to snapping in his grip.
“Do you want to make a deal with me?”
The scholar broke the silence first.
Leonardo couldn’t answer right away.
A deal required both sides to want something from each other. Did this man know what he wanted—or something he shouldn’t? He couldn’t tell.
Just then, footsteps approached. At the sound, Leonardo released the scholar’s wrist roughly. The man only rubbed the purpled skin and smiled.
The footsteps belonged to Kenis.
“Mr. Blaine?”
Kenis looked puzzled at the sight of the two standing so close. Leonardo, who had been glaring at the scholar, smoothed his expression and glanced at him as if to ask why. Kenis flicked his eyes between them, gauging the mood, then swallowed his unease and spoke.
“I’ve packed the luggage. When should we leave?”
He meant: let’s return to the ranks.
It was the natural course. Now that they were safe, they should rejoin the unit. But...
“...”
Leonardo stared at Kenis silently, then turned his gaze away. The vast structure around them spread out before his eyes, steeped in a strange atmosphere.
His eyes lingered on the evenly-spaced columns and worn terraces, then lifted to the slanting light seeping through the cave ceiling. The straight shaft of light had tilted; shadows once short now stretched long.
Finally, he turned his eyes back to the scholar. For a brief moment his face had been blank, but when their gazes met, the scholar wore that smile again.
Leonardo wavered, then looked back at Kenis.
Screeeech—
Darkness draped itself over the rough mountains. The sky, which had cleared after the rain, was quickly veiled by clouds again. A bird of prey’s cry pierced the unusually dim night sky.
A hawk soaring above descended into a deep valley, riding the wind. With wings tinged in blue, it slowed and landed on the sturdy arm of a man standing at the cliff’s edge.
The hawk perched—and its form distorted, vanishing as it merged into Hugo. It wasn’t a real hawk, but a divine beast he had created.
A divine beast was mana expelled from the body, molded into a lasting form. Unlike summoning, it moved by the caster’s will and consciousness.
But separated from the caster, it had to judge and move on its own, constantly consuming mana. Unless one had vast reserves, creating and maintaining one was not easy.
Moreover, when absorbed back, a divine beast didn’t transfer its senses directly. But it could convey words to its master. And the hawk had just relayed this to Hugo:
Footprints of two people, found near a swamp six miles southwest.
Hugo’s weary eyelids flickered. At last, traces of the two who had vanished for two days.
His face was gaunt from little sleep or food. The fine hair, usually swept neatly back from his forehead, now hung loose, lending him a disheveled air. But at the hawk’s words, his eyes lit sharp again.
Two dark figures appeared at his side—a 1st Battalion soldier and the 8th Platoon Leader. The latter strode forward, bowed lightly, and spoke quickly.
“Commander, we just received a report—traces presumed to be the outsider have been found. He’s moving southwest.”
Hugo’s brow twitched. Likely coincidence, yet the timing was irksome. Casting a glance southwest, he said,
“Traces of two people were also found in a swamp to the southwest.”
The 8th Platoon Leader’s eyes widened.
“You mean those two?”
“Yes.”
She followed his gaze. She looked as exhausted as the rest after two days, but at mention of the pair, her eyes sharpened. Hugo asked,
“On your side, is it certain it’s him?”
“Yes. At the first sighting of the outsider, one of our members confirmed his appearance and clothing, alongside Kenis. I believe it’s certain.”
“Then send a tailing team. No attack yet. Keep distance, follow only. In case others are involved. We’ll continue searching toward the swamp. If we don’t find the two, then we’ll widen the scope and pursue the outsider.”
“Yes, understood.”
With that, she and the soldier disappeared swiftly. Hugo’s eyes stayed fixed southwest. After a moment, he lifted his head toward the cloud-hidden moon.
The moon flickered faintly, as though it might appear, then vanished again, swallowed by fast-moving clouds.
His gaze held many tangled thoughts.
At last, he looked down at the bandage wrapped around his bare left hand.
“...I believe you are safe.”
