Barbarian | Interlude.2 - Seed Of DoubtIf you like the translations, do click on the A.d above. Since it is a click-per-a.d, that is the only way it gives revenue.
anwhile, at a similar ti
As Ulan and Ibella were strolling through the forest, engaging in casual conversation. Sylphy stepped out just as the front door of the dormitory opened and "Haahh," a heavy sigh escaped her lips.
The reason for leaving her room at such an early hour was simple sleep had eluded her. Sylphy, her expression filled with frustration, nibbled at her nails.
Ugh, what am I going to do?
One of the three divine beasts of the Order. She had failed to ta the white wolf that lurked in the mist. The whole purpose of entering the Academy had been lost.
But even if the mission failed, she still had to report back to the Order, so she sent a letter with her report to Count Dermore's mansion.
Recently, a response had arrived, along with a straightforward ssage:
Wait.
An order to wait in the Academy.
Furthermore, to comply with Count Dermore's request for cooperation. Recalling everything that had happened so far, Sylphy's expression was somber.
'...I hope I'm not being abandonedam I?'
Sylphy was the heir to the Order; but the Order's laws were unforgiving.
Those deed unworthy heirs were mostly cast aside. Contemplating this, Sylphy sighed once again.
Do I have to find a way to survive now?
As she walked with the thought that the Order would have shouted blasphemy if they had heard it
Thud!
When she suddenly bumped into sothing.
She thought she'd hit a tree, but she didn't. Trees don't talk.
"Are you okay?"
The man grabbed Sylphy's flailing wrist.
At the sa ti, she understood the situation. Having lost herself in thought and wandered aimlessly, she had collided with a person, "Sorry, I was lost in thought for a mont..." She quickly bowed her head and apologized; her eyes locked with the man who had helped her.
A middle-aged man with golden hair and lake-deep brown eyes.
And the mont she saw him
"......!?"
For a mont, her heart stopped.
There was only one reason the man's identity.
Istan El Deorg?!
She almost scread.
It was only natural. The man in front of her was unrecognizable as a mber of the Desert Order.
......Hunter of Heretics!
An Ice Golem. A Slaughterer. A Demon. And many more.
He was the Order's worst villain and enemy; a man who would indiscriminately beheaded anyone if he thought the person was a heretic, be it a child, a woman, or an old man.
But why is this man here?
Just as she was asking herself this question.
'I-is it possible?'
An ominous thought suddenly flashed through her mind.
Could it be that he found out that she was hiding, and ca to catch her? As Sylphy's eyes widened at the sudden speculation
"Did I get sothing on my face?"
Istan asked in a dry tone.
Snapping out of her thoughts, Sylphy shook her head, her flustering visible.
"No, nothing, no."
"Is that so?"
"T-thank you for your help. I'll be leaving now, as I have class," She said as politely as she could and quickly turned away. To get out of here, but she couldn't walk.
Istan wouldn't let go of her wrist.
"Um, could you please let go of my hand...?"
"There's sothing I want to ask you."
"W, what do you want to ask?"
Her eyes shook slightly for a mont. For so reason, she felt uneasy, and Istan's question followed.
"So, where are you from?"
The mont she heard that question
her legs went weak and she almost collapsed to the ground. Asking this question out of the blue was a sign of suspicion.
A sinking feeling in her chest, Sylphy struggled to hold herself together and asked, "Why is that...?"
"It's nothing. I have sothing to confirm," replied Istan, urging her to answer quickly.
Just respond to him sohow, Sylphy thought, attempting to co up with a hastily fabricated answer under Istan's scrutinizing gaze. However, her voice failed her. It seed that falsehoods wouldn't work on him.
"Strange. It shouldn't be a difficult question," Istan remarked, and at that mont, his gaze turned piercing.
The gaze of the Hunter of Heretics.
Oh, it's all over now. At the mont when she felt cornered to the edge of a cliff and was about to shut her eyes tightly in despair, a sudden voice interrupted.
"What are you doing now?"
A voice broke in. A familiar voice. She whipped her head around to see Ibella standing there, her face set in a stern expression.
"Do you have anything to do with my friend?"
"Your ...... friend?"
Istan's eyebrows twitched; as if sowhat unexpected.
"Uh, yeah. We got caught in the waves together."
Ulan, who appeared with her, explained the circumstances.
The fact that they were swept away by the waves while visiting the Fountain of Magic, and that it would have been difficult to break through the ruins if Sylphie had not been there.
After a while, when all was said and done
"I see. A friend of Ibella's."
Istan nodded in silence; then he turned to Sylphie and bowed gently, "I'm sorry, I must have been mistaken."
"No, what mistake did you make......."
"I thought you were a Heretic."
"What? Heretic?" Ibella asks in disbelief.
Sylphy's breath caught in her throat as her speculation turned into reality.
"There's no way a Heretic could have gotten this far, unless they had an inside track."
"......."
Unintentionally, she bit down hard on her lips.
She felt like she knew what he was saying, like he knew everything. She was overco with the desire to get out of there
when she heard a bell in the distance.
An opportunity. Sylphy's eyes flashed.
"We, we should hurry, I think!"
"What? There's still plenty of ti until class, right?"
"Well, not exactly, but I heard that physical training starts earlier than usual today."
"What? Really?" Ibella asks in surprise.
Ulan also wore a serious expression, "Then we'd better hurry."
He decided that he couldn't be late on the first day of his suspension. He made a decision, and suddenly stretched out his arms and pulled Ibella and Sylphy close.
To be more precise, he wrapped his arms around their waists and hugged them like luggage.
"Uh, Ulan?!"
"What are you doing all of a sudden......."
Suddenly, out of nowhere
the two girls looked puzzled, but Ulan replied with an expressionless face, "It's faster this way."
They were also much lighter than the logs.
Swallowing his words, Ulan stomped the ground without hesitation and broke into a sprint.
Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!
The ground shook like an earthquake.
Ibella and Sylphy;s screams echoed through the air, but Ulan didn't stop.
"That's good."
In the blink of an eye, the three were gone.
Istan burst out laughing. Then, just as he was about to turn away again, he heard a voice stop him in his tracks.
"Was today the day of your departure?"
The voice was familiar to Istan. It was Dean Berge, who looked at the bandages wrapped around Istan's body.
"Your body hasn't fully healed yet. If you don't have any urgent business, why don't you stay a little longer and then go?"
"No. I have sothing to do." Before returning to the front lines, he had to visit the County. Rembering soone, Istan answered with a faint smile, "I have soone to et."
Edeline Elearde.
He had to find the woman who still waited for him, and ask for her forgiveness. And he had to punish those who had persecuted them for so long.
"If you have sothing to do, then I can't help it. Well, I won't keep you, but before you go, tell one thing."
"What do you an?"
"The military's plan you ntioned three days ago."
"......."
"I was wondering where that story ca from, and I'd appreciate it if you could answer that."
Berge's eyes grew harsh.
Istan, on the other hand, did not answer, as if he was thinking about sothing. After a mont, he gathered his thoughts and shook his head slightly, "I can't say."
"......what?"
"I have a lot of respect for you, General, but apart from that, I don't agree with the military's plans."
The plan to naturalize Ulan into the Empire, and then absorb the barbarians and land on the fringes all at once.
Does he disagree with this? Berge frowned.
"You disagree with a plan that would allow us to absorb the lands on the fringes of the Empire without shedding blood? Do you really want war to break out?"
"No, that's not the case."
"Then why......."
"Then let ask you a question as well." Istan interrupted Berge; he asked the question with serious eyes, "Have you been to the fringes lately?"
There was no answer. Berge shook his head. There was no reason to go in the first place.
Since becoming Head of the Military Studies Departnt, he had rarely left the academy. Istan said, as if he knew that would be the case, "The fringes are a total ss right now. There are all sorts of monsters, beasts, and bandits on the loose."
That's not all.
All those who were sent from the capital as administrators were just corrupt officials. There is not a single decent person in charge. And with the lack of law enforcent, it was a ss.
So Istan argued.
Now was not the ti to aim for the fringes.
"We can always expand the land," he said, "but for now, we need to strengthen our inner circle."
At this rate, the empire would fester from within.
It's likely to beco a hollow powerhouse with only a big chunk of land. Berge let out a low groan at Istan's directness.
He was right a hundred tis over.
But the die was already cast.
The plan was political, involving not only the military, but the central aristocracy and the imperial family.
So, just as he was about to explain this, Istan changed his tune, "Of course, I don't feel comfortable either."
"......What are you talking about all of a sudden?"
"As a mber of the military, I can't stand by and let such a grave secret get out in the open."
"Then......."
"Yes, I'll let you know," Istan nodded.
If he was going to let him know so readily, why did he have to say anything about disagreeing with the plan? Berge suddenly wondered.
And soon, the reason was revealed, "But if you'll grant one request."
"......A request?"
For a mont, he had an ominous feeling.
Istan's request was straightforward, "I want you to create a professorship for ."
"......."
"Preferably in the Military Studies Departnt, if possible."
Now he finally understood Istans intentions.
Because another Master who had fought Ulan, Marquis Seoric al-Ghorfant, had said the exact sa thing as Istan.
The reason was obvious.
After assuming the position of a professor, it's likely he planned to engage in duels with Ulan under the guise of lectures.
'Masters are all.......'
They're all just a bunch of fighters.
Sighing inwardly, Begre replied with a troubled expression, "It is not difficult to create a professorship. But you're the commander of the Southern Front, aren't you? Taking on the role of a professor is not sothing you can afford..."
"It's alright. The front will function well even without . I've made sure of that," Interrupting the conversation with a decisive statent, Istan took a step back, "Of course, I'm not asking you to make arrangents for right away. Leaving the Front requires preparation in many ways, so to be generous, how about soti next year?"
"......I'll think about it."
"No, you have to promise for sure."
"You really..."
Aren't you curious about the source?"
Berge's fists shook. If Istan wasn't a Master, he would have punched him in the head right away. But his own situation was urgent. Berge let out a heavy sigh, "Sigh, fine. I promise."
So, tell the source quickly. Berge's eyes flashed sharply. Istan, on the other hand, was not done asking for favors, "I have one more favor to ask."
"Huh, what?!"
"It's a matter of national security."
He was about to raise his voice when suddenly, Istan's expression turned serious, "I heard that last month, three freshn went missing from the Fountain of Magic." Also known as the Trial of a Hero incident. Istan got straight to the point, "Among the students who went missing back then, there was a girl with ash-colored hair."
"Right. I'm pretty sure her na was......."
"Please share all the information you have about that girl. This is my last request."
"......."
Berge clamped his mouth shut.
Taking a student's personal information was wrong on principle. However, when it cos to matters harmful to the Empire, the story changes. So the dilemma didn't last long, "I see. I'll get it to you soon."
"Thank you," Istan bowed his head slightly. It was a gesture of gratitude. Berge, on the other hand, waved a hand dismissively. As if to say, I don't need any of this, just tell who your source is.
"Very well, I'll tell you," Istan revealed the source of the information; in a voice only the two of them could hear.
And that evening.
As Count Istan El Deorg was leaving the Academy with Himl Deorg, an abrupt and urgent personnel transfer was announced to the Arsene Guard.
It was announced that Roen Philaud, the Chief of Guard, was leaving the Guard for personal reasons.
After the announcent.
Roen Philaud disappeared into thin air, without a trace; as if he had been erased from existence by soone.
As ti passed, the second week of April arrived.
For the students of the Arsene Academy, a period of great importance was fast approaching.
Exams that would test their academic achievents.
It was the midterm exam period.
(End of Chapter. . . . . . . .Thanks for Reading. . . . . . . . . )
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