Chapter 372 - Conviction
"What? Lord Dallehin is dead? I haven't heard any rumors of a territorial war."
"He wasn't executed after losing a war. According to a subordinate I sent to monitor Dallehin, he was taken down by a single man."
Ordinarily, one man can barely handle two opponents, three is impossible, but exceptions do exist.
A being capable of overwhelming hundreds alone, society calls such a figure a strong one.
"No matter if Dallehin was a new lord who hadn't secured much power, this is still significant. Wasn't Rigalo supposed to join forces with him?"
"Are you talking about that reckless beast-man? Hah, must have offered him quite a sum of money."
"Rigalo really did meet with Dallehin. They even dined together. Then, both their heads were lopped off."
"...The culprit?"
"It's a name you all would know."
After wetting his throat briefly, he continued speaking.
"The Holy One of the Eastern Continent, Asher."
The reaction was explosive.
Those listening widened their eyes, inhaled sharply, unable to hide their shock.
Then, they cooled their heads with cold water, calming the blood that had flared up.
"...Why would he be in the Ownerless Land? Why even leave the Eastern Continent in the first place?"
"That I can't know. But isn't it obvious? For a powerhouse from another continent, there's no land more free and convenient than the Ownerless Land to make a fortune."
"Mm, that's true."
It isn't rare for foreign experts to set foot in the Ownerless Land.
So long as they are strong, they can seize a territory, play at being nobles, or even kings, regardless of birth or status.
Slavery, massacres, domination...
Things condemned elsewhere can be done here without restraint.
But among those who come, only a handful survive.
When countless strongmen gather for profit, conflict inevitably arises.
Moreover, the reason the Ownerless Land exists and continues to exist is because the interests of the nations of the world align in this matter.
This land has no master.
Because the world does not wish for one.
No matter if one is a warrior wielding seasonal arts, or a Reacher of Mado, relying only on strength and background while running rampant here means death.
"They say the Holy One's other name is the Tyrant of the Underworld, so surely he intends to reveal his ambitions. And just like all the others before, he'll naturally vanish. Even if he killed an Undead Dragon, without the Saintess of Luas Church and the aid of DarkWarton, it would've been impossible."
"But the problem is, we might be wiped out before that happens, right?"
"Indeed. And looking at the timing... the Holy One striking at Dallehin suggests a connection with Arein. I don't know what deal was made, but for us, it's the worst-case scenario."
"Well, we did show signs of coveting Arein ourselves. A disaster, huh. Tsk."
Their sighs grew longer.
A sudden, unstoppable potential threat had appeared.
But they could not just stand still and be devoured.
As always, they had to find a way to survive.
Though they held land, in truth they lived no differently than tenant farmers, ever watching for danger.
"Let us meet Lord Arein and the Holy One. Now isn't the time for idle talk, we must first learn what kind of person he is."
"That would be best."
"Mm."
The three lords, having decided on their course of action, nodded together.
***
There was still plenty of time until word would arrive from Gargant.
In the meantime, Verden took a day to walk around.
Following Keirel's guidance, he examined every corner of the barren streets of Arein, and through her explanations, came to understand more of how the Ownerless Land flowed.
As Keirel hung her coat on the rack, she asked.
"For the most part I told you what I know. Do you have anything else you're curious about?"
Verden shook his head.
Perhaps later, but for now he had no questions.
"Really? Then may I ask you something?"
"What is it?"
"When do you plan to reveal your identity? Are you gilded in gold or something, that you won't even show your face?"
Rumors had begun to spread recently of Dallehin's death.
Before long, Verden's description—his name even—would become known, but not just yet.
Adrian whispered.
"Keirel usually can't resist her curiosity. 'Curiosity killed the cat', as they say. Just lasting until now is already impressive."
"I can hear you, you know?!"
Keirel's cat ears perked up as she threw a cup.
Adrian caught it lightly, poured himself water, and drank naturally.
"Ah, you damn smug bastard... So when are you going to take off that shabby robe?"
At first it had been awkward, but after a few days Keirel treated Verden in her usual manner.
Verden stroked his chin.
'I wasn't planning on hiding it forever.'
He had concealed his identity to avoid needless uproar and to keep his movements unknown.
But now, with the auction registration settled and a city in his possession, there was no more need.
Still, simply whipping off the robe and introducing himself felt awkward and strange.
So this occasion was welcome.
Fwsh.
Verden stored the worn robe into subspace.
His true appearance was revealed.
"Oh."
Keirel blinked, mouth agape, at a face far more presentable than she had imagined.
The water she had been pouring overflowed from the cup.
But Verden did not stop there.
He summoned a massive bone onto the wooden table, showing it to Keirel.
"...What is that?"
"An item for the Scales of Ignacia."
Something to register at the auction?
Keirel's eyes sparkled as she cautiously approached, examining the bone closely.
Glancing at Verden, she tapped it, testing its hardness, listening to the sound.
Then, frowning, she rubbed her lips.
"This is a very strange bone. Hmm, from its shape, it doesn't look like it came from any demi-human... Which abnormal species did you harvest this from?"
"Dragon."
"Ah, a dragon."
Keirel nodded—then suddenly snapped her head around.
Her pupils dilated, and she repeatedly looked back and forth between the dragon bone and Verden, before timidly raising her hand.
"C-can I ask another question?"
"Of course."
"Is your name Asher, by chance? The Magus said to be making the greatest name for himself in the Eastern Continent?"
"The latter, I don't know about."
So the former was correct.
Keirel's tail drooped downward.
A heavy silence fell.
As if no words would come to her, she stammered, then fixed her gaze on Adrian.
"Who the hell did you bring here, you crazy bastard."
"Well, I..."
"Fuck!"
***
After revealing his identity to Keirel, Verden spent his time in the chamber of the lord's castle that Liam had provided.
Because there were preparations he had to complete before the auction began.
Magic power took form.
Soon, a double identical to his body was created.
While maintaining it, he donned the [Circlet of Projection] on his head.
A circlet taken as reward from Tersau, the secret treasury of the Republic of Beldirn.
A rare, special magical item capable of projecting the caster's consciousness into a magical double.
Swsh, closing his eyes, he activated the [Circlet of Projection].
At the same time he felt a stir within, he opened his eyes, and saw himself, wearing the circlet.
'After a few tries, I'm starting to get used to this.'
He hadn't practiced much due to the reuse cooldown, but since his control of magic power was already at its peak, his adaptation was extremely fast.
The double, now Verden, repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fist.
No longer awkward, but... his senses were still duller than usual. That part was inevitable.
Due to the limitations of the [Circlet of Projection], he couldn't wield his original power.
'Only magic up to the 5th tier can be used.'
Separately, strengthening the double's body with imbue magic was impossible.
His casting speed was reduced to less than half, and the pool of magic power was negligible compared to his true body.
The abilities of his artifacts, his Mystic Eye, even Mado itself, naturally could not be reproduced.
In every respect, there were restrictions.
'But in return, the advantages are immense.'
The distance for consciousness projection was considerable, allowing him to control the double freely even from afar.
Moreover, the double was so precise that even a Magus would find it difficult to see through.
In fact, he had already deceived a Warlord, Legrit, the Fourth Servant, and Kessilus. That was proof enough.
But Verden had no intention of being satisfied at that level.
Finishing his practice, he dispelled the double and stored the [Circlet of Projection] in subspace.
Then, he opened Mado.
Infinite possibilities unfolded.
At the same time, with utmost concentration, he exerted his full power in controlling magic.
The gathered magic power, at Verden's will, writhed as one mass.
Soon, it began to take on a human shape.
Compared to the
Its appearance, its form, not even clearly set. It looked like a clay man that naturally evoked disgust.
But the point of note, was that this shabby double looked nothing like Verden himself.
A double that created the illusion of another person.
Something that did not exist in the original hierarchy of spells.
This was creation, a branch extended from the way of Mado.
In magical terminology, a derivative magic of Mado.
'...Imbue-type magic, no wonder it's difficult.'
Since Verden had specialized in elemental magic, the difficulty was especially high.
But hardship was no reason to hesitate or falter.
He had set himself the goal of completing a magical other-self before going to Gargant.
Verden was resolute.
Drip... drip...
Sweat beads rolled down as he refined the clay double with greater detail than before.
Soon, feeling the heavy fatigue wash over him, he engraved the current progress into memory.
He released Mado and quietly steadied his breathing.
For now, the process was going smoothly. As he glanced out the window, dawn had already broken.
For a breath of air, he washed briefly and stepped outside.
Not going far, he settled at the top of the lord's castle.
"..."
Before his eyes stretched the sight of the city, lit not by magical items but by torches dotting the streets.
Inconvenient as it was to truly live in, it was nonetheless a view worth seeing.
Then, sensing a familiar presence approach, Verden spoke.
"What brings you here?"
"Just came to get some air. There's no place higher in this city than here."
"Feels like you've got another reason."
"That too."
Passing Verden, Adrian perched on the edge.
A fall might be fatal for others, but such an impact could never hurt Adrian.
Staring at the city for a while, Adrian asked casually,
"My lord, do you intend to rule this land?"
Verden asked back flatly.
"Why, do I look like I might?"
"When you revealed yourself while striking down Dallehin, I thought so. Is it not?"
"Well."
Verden shrugged.
As always, he did not explain his thoughts in full detail.
He did not want puppets who followed orders blindly, or subordinates who only walked preordained paths.
He wanted Adrian to think deeply, to choose for himself, to find his own answers.
For the path of growth was open to Adrian as well.
Verden leaned back, resting one hand behind his head, and lay down comfortably.
"As I said before, the direction is already set. It's like painting a picture. But sometimes I wonder, the picture I complete with my current ideal, is that truly what I want..."
"So you mean, you need conviction about the result."
"An ultimate conviction that encompasses everything. It's not a big issue. Nothing is perfect from the start. It's a natural worry."
To raise completeness, countless trials and errors are necessary.
Just as no fate is set in stone...
There exists no process that fits together mechanically, without any deviation, from the very beginning.
At least, not for Verden.
"Still, this time, by adding one color to the sketch with my own hand, I've gained one more certainty."
"What certainty?"
Verden gazed at a star embedded in the dim sky.
When the gray clouds passed, a star shone brighter than the crescent moon, gleaming vividly.
"That I am right."
A belief born of arrogance and confidence, the conviction that everything lay within the path he walked.
It was, unmistakably, conviction itself.
And a few days later, an invitation arrived.
The senders were the nearby lords.
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