······The northern part of the Empire is broadly divided into the northwest, the north, and the northeast, with three margraves governing each territory.
Their chief duty is defense against foreign enemies pressing in from the Ruined Lands. Thus, while “Puhairden,” the holy land of warriors, is the most famous among the people, the northern House Dhaman boasts a reputation no less prominent.
“Loyalty! We wish you safe proceedings at the Bercht Conference!”
On the platform in Harlan, Dhaman’s capital, the count’s guards saluted Giltheon. Giltheon smiled and nodded.
“Thank you. Please deliver the item safely to Count Dhaman.”
“Yes, sir!”
At the railway station leading still farther north from Harlan in the north, Sylvia gazed at the snowflake that had settled on the tip of her nose.
“It’s snowing in April.”
Giltheon smiled as though he found Sylvia adorable.
“It is the north, after all. Come, let us board.”
“Okay.”
“My lady, if you’re late, we’ll leave you behind~”
“Shut up.”
Their party boarded the train together.
The VVIP private compartment that Iliade had reserved in its entirety occupied half of a whole carriage, and it was cozy, furnished not only with beds but also sofas, carpets, desks, and chairs.
“Father. How long will it take?”
“Six hours from Harlan, and three hours from the express train at the ‘Platform.’”
Giltheon said from where he sat on the sofa.
The “Platform” where the Terch express train was located was simply called the “Platform.” Because there was no village or sign of human habitation around it at all—only the platform, standing alone.
Once they arrived at the Platform, they would change trains there and head straight for Bercht.
“But what kind of intelligence was it?”
Sylvia asked as she placed writing tools and a notebook on the desk.
“An attack.”
Sylvia’s eyes grew round. Seated at the desk, she asked again.
“Then we have to tell them.”
“They are not the sort to refrain from attacking simply because we tell them. If we expose it, they will devise another plan, and a hastily devised plan always entails unnecessary slaughter. Matters between mages ought to be settled between mages.”
Sylvia’s expression said she did not understand. Giltheon smiled and added an explanation.
“Bercht is such a place, my child. Fifteen years ago, it was far more intense than this. Attending the conference itself was war.”
“Why?”
“Bercht is······ in a manner of speaking, proof of a prestigious house. Not only the twelve traditional houses, but even the eight emerging houses—if they are selected, and if they ‘attend,’ their names will be engraved in history.”
Fifteen years, twenty years, seventeen years.
Because that cycle was so long, Bercht’s authority reached the heavens as time passed, and attendance came to be regarded as a certain proof and radiance of being a “prestigious magical house.”
“However, Bercht has a special rule.”
─A house that has been summoned but does not attend the conference will never be summoned again. Also, should a vacancy occur at the conference, a new house shall be summoned before proceedings continue. If the vacancy is among the traditional twelve houses, one of the emerging houses shall be selected as a new traditional house.
“My child. In your opinion, what method exists to pull down one of the traditional twelve houses?”
“······.”
Sylvia understood at once.
“But then they’d be punished.”
“Hahaha.”
Giltheon laughed aloud. At times like this, he occasionally felt regret. Perhaps he had sheltered his daughter too much until now.
However, it was a cruel story she would one day learn with her body.
They only had to begin now.
“My child. Among the traditional twelve houses, which house do you think was traditional from the very beginning?”
“······Ah.”
“That’s right. If punishment is to be given, then every magical house would be its target. In that case, they ensure that no one is punished at all. That is why death on the way to Bercht is considered a magical natural death.”
In other words, it was an opportunity to legally target one another. The very moment the sophistry of “the one who gets caught is an idiot” transformed into sound logic.
This phenomenon had been far worse in the past.
There had even been quite a few cases where perfectly intact houses were shut down outright, only to be reborn under new names, simply for the sake of being summoned to Bercht.
“Rewind,” whose current head was Ihelm, was one such case.
“Compared to the past, the present is an age of peace and prosperity. Of course, Bercht’s authority remains absolute even now, but the new Grand Elder Dzekdan dislikes disputes, and compared to then, there are many more ways to raise a house’s renown. There is no need to cling so desperately to being summoned.”
“······.”
“Of course, there will still be many who try to interfere.”
Sylvia nodded. Giltheon smiled silently. Beside him, Sirio also chuckled as he looked out the window.
Chichichichichik─
The sound of mana stones combusting. Burning mana energy moved the train.
With that noise as her companion, Sylvia sat at the desk and began studying.
It was a review of Deculein’s lesson.
As she reflected on every single word he had spoken, understanding with her head and circulating mana with her body, she soon took out another notebook.
It was an art notebook.
She moved her pencil, drawing something.
Her drawing had, without her realizing it, become a certain eye.
A blue eye shedding a single tear.
* * *
I was working on items in the annex of the mansion.
「Georg Formal Overcoat」
「Georg Formal Vest」
「Georg Formal Dress Shirt」
Georg was the most famous bespoke tailor shop on the continent, and I was bestowing 「Midas’s Hand」 upon those parts(?).
It could be called heavy armament in preparation for Bercht.
It was no exaggeration. In this world, defensive equipment that a mage could wear was extremely limited. Not only did artificially crafted artifacts have a definite lifespan, but bestowing that magical nature upon fabric rather than armor was extremely, extremely difficult.
That was why, even in the prestigious magical house of Yukline, there were many grimoires but few wearable artifacts.
What if one wore armor instead?
The mana inherent in the armor might interfere with the casting of magic.
That was why I was going out of my way to overlay 「Midas’s Hand」 onto a suit.
───「Georg Formal Jacket」───
◆ Information
：A bespoke overcoat made by Georg, the finest tailor shop on the continent
：Its durability has increased dramatically due to 「Midas’s Hand」.
◆ Category
：Clothing ⊃ Formalwear
◆ Special Effects
：Lower-mid-grade physical resistance.
：Low-grade magic resistance.
[ Midas’s Hand: Level 3 ]
────────
Here, lower-mid-grade physical resistance could be considered about the level of ordinary “steel heavy armor.”
It would not tear even if struck by a sword.
“At this point······.”
I had poured roughly twenty-four thousand mana into equipment enhancement alone over the past two days, so my defenses should be secure to some extent.
Knock, knock—
“Who is it?”
─It’s me.
It was Yeriel. Yeriel immediately opened the door and came in.
“You’re going like that? Without wearing this?”
Yeriel put down a robe coat with a deliberately blunt air. It was a “treasure” beyond an artifact, named 「Ancient Yukline Robe Coat」.
“Wasn’t this what you were saving it for?”
Was this child worried about me?
The instant I had such a thought, she snapped brusquely.
“Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m only doing this because if you die on the way, the succession will become difficult.”
“Do not worry. I will not die.”
“I just said I’m not worried, didn’t I? If you go for no reason and die, we’ll be stripped of our seat at the Bercht Conference, and the succession will become difficult······”
Yeriel cut herself off, then pursed her lips and asked back.
“More importantly, don’t you have anything to say?”
“No.”
“······Really?”
“Thank you for the robe.”
“Huh? No.”
Yeriel flinched, but soon shook her head.
“Not that. About Bercht······ Ah, forget it. I’m leaving, so whether it’s the Bercht Conference or whatever else, do as you please.”
Yeriel turned away bluntly and opened the door of the annex. Roy was already standing in front of it. Roy was with one guest.
“Master. Sir Allen has arrived.”
Allen, beside Roy, bowed awkwardly. Yeriel glared at Allen.
“And who are you?”
“Ah, I’m Allen, assistant professor to Chief Professor Deculein!”
“······Ah~ So you’re the one? Good grief.”
Yeriel sneered as though displeased with something, then looked back and forth between Allen and me.
“Yes. Good luck. Traveling with that man will be extremely exhausting, so take good care of your mental state.”
With that, Yeriel went outside, and Allen bowed toward her back before entering.
“Um, Professor. What should I be doing······?”
“We will depart tomorrow afternoon, so rest at ease.”
“Yes, yes. I’ll rest at ease.”
Though he answered that way, Allen’s face did not look at ease at all. The dark circles under his eyes were already remarkable. Of course, he had probably not slept a wink since last night.
“Allen.”
“Yes.”
“Take this.”
I handed him the 「Protective Robe」 I had purchased last night with psychokinesis.
It was an artifact with excellent performance not only against blades but also against magic. Its lifespan was only two weeks, but its price was a full thirty thousand elne.
“M-May I really accept something like this—”
As if he knew that, Allen’s eyes suddenly welled with tears.
“Do not whimper. If you cry in front of me, I may become angry.”
“Ah, yes, yes!”
Mysophobia did not permit even tears. Snot was an object of disgust.
Allen hurriedly swallowed his tears and carefully put on the robe. As though deeply, deeply moved by the feel of wearing it, his eyes reddened again.
“Rest in your room.”
“Yes, yes. I’ll be waiting!”
I still had much to do.
Not only the 「Ancient Yukline Robe Coat」 that Yeriel had given me, but at least five of my cherished woodsteel blades were waiting to be enhanced with 「Midas’s Hand」.
“Until my mana recovers······.”
I took out a book.
「Ertrang Martial Arts Manual, Intermediate Volume」
A book written by Ertrang himself, the legend of martial artists who, at this point in time, had stepped back from the front lines.
The cost of obtaining the intermediate volume alone had been nearly five hundred thousand elne.
Roughly speaking, it was said to be the ultimate martial art that had absorbed only the strengths of every sort of martial art, whether Baguazhang, Jeet Kune Do, or Piguaquan······
I began moving my body according to its contents.
* * *
Allen and I set out at two in the afternoon on Saturday. Roy and the servants saw us off, and Yeriel had already returned to the main house.
After that, we took the high-speed train from Giden Station in the capital to Dhaman’s Harlan for seven hours.
We ate in Harlan, bought several books that caught the eye of 「Magnate’s Wealth」, and then took the train north again for six hours.
Only then, at dawn on Sunday, did we arrive at the Terch Platform.
“Wow······.”
Allen admired it blankly. It was my first time seeing a space like this as well.
Outside the station, snow covered everything in every direction, but inside the station, it was actually abundant.
Should I say the platform itself was like a small village?
There were not one but five restaurants, and a surprising number of people inside. There was a hotel, of course, as well as a simple clinic and a magic goods shop.
“Good day.”
Just then, a knight approached. I raised an eyebrow as I looked at the prominent pattern on his chest.
“A knight of Frenheim?”
“Yes. My name is Veron. I have been entrusted with escorting the entire train.”
“Are you the only one?”
“Yes. Each train has only one escort knight. Usually, mages bring their own escort knights······”
Out of caution, I activated 「Villain’s Fate」.
There was no sign of anything from Veron. Neither 「Magnate’s Wealth」 nor 「Villain’s Fate」 reacted at all. He was colorless and odorless.
“There are many guests today.”
“This is a station where three hundred people come and go each day, but there will not be many guests going as far as Bercht.”
Well, this area was a famous hunting ground. It was also an herb field.
If one’s goal was leveling or farming, it was quite a good place.
“Allen, will you be fine without a meal?”
Allen nodded.
“Yes! I brought plenty of packed lunches anyway. Professor, shall I heat one up for you too?”
“No need.”
After waiting about fifteen minutes like that, the front of a train appeared whitishly at the end of the tracks. A platform employee shouted loudly.
“This is today’s first train! Since the Bercht Conference is tomorrow, trains will come and go as many as five times today! Please keep that in mind! It means you can dawdle!”
“I shall be going.”
Veron bowed his head and approached the tracks first, and I also stood in the VIP passage with Allen. An employee approached and checked our tickets.
“Yes. Head Professor Deculein. You may sit anywhere in the VIP seats. Haha. Seeing you in person, you’re damn handsome, aren’t you.”
I boarded the train and took off my fedora.
The express train had seven cars in all, and while the VIP car and general cars were separated, the VIP car merely had more space and slightly more luxurious seats.
“Huh? Aren’t you Professor Deculein!”
When I sat down with Allen, a man whose name I did not know spoke to me. At a glance he seemed to be a noble, but he was holding some sort of camera in his arms.
“Haha. I am Loen, a magic analyst and reporter. My, to think I would be on the same train as Professor Deculein. What an immense honor…”
I examined his face. To be precise, I looked a little more closely at the unnatural movement of the wrinkles on his face and the smile at the corners of his mouth that seemed to tremble.
Chiiiiiiik—
Loen looked out the window, then sat down.
“Oh my, we’re off now.”
The train departed.
Crackle— crackle—
The express train advanced at a speed not much different from the Mugunghwa.
“Wow…”
Allen exclaimed as he looked out the window. Even I was left speechless for a moment by the scenery beyond the train.
It was a magnificent view that made the slow speed perfectly understandable.
“It’s a cliff right from the start…”
Right beside us, close enough to touch if one reached out, a sheer cliff face flowed down like a waterfall. A true precipice. Its end was hidden by mist, seeming infinite.
“It’s dizzyingly far down there…”
“It will be like that for three hours.”
“Waaah…”
Allen’s speech grew sluggish. As if his tension had loosened, his eyes also drooped half-shut.
I looked at him and said,
“If you’re tired, sleep.”
The express train was one that advanced while clinging to the mountain range. Even riding this, one had to ascend for about three more hours to reach Bercht’s First Hall.
“Eh? Ah, yes… Then I’ll just rest a little…”
Allen closed his eyes, and I set my briefcase down on the train floor.
There were eleven guests in the VIP seats in total.
One was Loen from just now, and the other eight were nobodies of unknown nationality and status.
I quietly opened the briefcase so that no one would notice. The cherished blades within slipped out and crawled across the floor of the train, taking position at each of the eight corners of the VIP car.
Tap—
Just then, something touched my shoulder.
It was Allen. Allen had buried his face against my shoulder and was breathing cooo— like a baby bird.
For an instant, my disgust value shot up, but as long as he did not drool, it would be fine.
I left him as he was.
I took a book from my breast pocket.
[ Ertlang Martial Arts Manual — Intermediate Volume ]
For now, it was only suspicion, but I had made the preparations certain.
So, until something happened, I decided to read this book a little…
* * *
Tick— tock—
Time passed.
Loen looked at the pocket watch at his waist.
Before he knew it, thirty minutes had passed.
The express train arrived at the first station, and three guests got off.
Loen looked at Deculein. He was still reading his book.
Loen calmly unfolded a newspaper.
Tick, tock—
Time passed again.
He could roughly tell its flow by feel.
One hour.
They arrived at the second station, and two guests got off.
Deculein was still reading his book.
Loen drank cold water and calmed the pounding of his heart.
There was nothing to worry about.
Things were proceeding according to plan.
No harm would come back to him.
No, to begin with, he was not doing anything wrong.
His mission was merely to get off at the fourth station.
They arrived at the third station, and again, two guests got off.
Now, aside from Deculein and his assistant, only two people remained.
Deculein was still reading his book. The assistant was still leaning against his shoulder, and there was not the slightest disturbance in Deculein’s aristocratic posture.
It was perfect, like a pictorial.
Perfect enough to want to leave it as a photograph.
Tick—
Tock—
The vibration from the pocket watch grated on his nerves.
Truly, it was a silence that drove a person mad.
Within that slow hell, time passed.
And at last, after two hours had gone by.
They arrived at the fourth station.
“Hoo—”
Loen swallowed a sigh of relief and rose from his seat.
All the remaining guests, except Deculein and his assistant, were to get off at this fourth station.
“Haha. Professor Deculein. Though it was only for a short while, it was an honor to share the same space with you. Then I shall take my leave…?”
But his body did not move.
His feet kept spinning uselessly. Even after taking dozens of steps, he remained in the same spot.
After struggling for quite some time, Loen finally looked back.
“…”
Deculein was reading his book without a word. Yet Loen’s own body would not move, as if something had seized it.
“Why, why is this happening. I have to get off— quickly—”
As he urgently searched for the cause, he found it.
It was his pocket watch.
His pocket watch was fixed in midair, and its chain was pulling at his waist.
The only mage who could cause such a bizarre phenomenon was, of course, Deculein.
“Pro, Professor Deculein? Why, why are you doing this?”
“Before you leave, think it over once more.”
“Yes? Think what over?”
Surely, there was no way he had noticed.
No, if he had noticed, he would not have boarded this train!
At the very least, he would not have been sitting in this VIP car!
You fucking bastard, let me go!
“I will give you a chance.”
“No, that’s not—”
“5.”
Then, out of nowhere, he began a countdown.
“4.”
Chiiiiiiik—!
The train departed again. Its speed quickly settled onto the track, and Loen’s complexion turned purple.
“3.”
“I, I know nothing!”
“2.”
“No, no, it was just. Just! They told me to leave my seat when the fourth hour came, money, thirty thousand Elne! Ah, fuck! Quickly, I have to get out, let go! It’s going to explode—!”
“…”
Only then was the telekinesis released. Loen was flung forward and rolled across the floor.
He tried to crawl out even like that.
“Too late.”
First, boom—
Boom—
An ominous vibration arose.
Immediately after.
———!
A tremendous impact surged up from beneath the train.
It was an explosion.
“Aaaaagh—!”
Loen screamed.
Kwaaaang———!
A roar like it would tear his eardrums apart.
Right after, his vision flipped dizzily.
As expected, the bomb underneath had gone off.
Now the train would be launched upward, and from there it would roll down the cliff and fall, and he would die without even his bones remaining…
He was dead! Dead!
He had died because of that Deculein!
…However.
That expectation was only half right.
Only up to the part where the train was launched upward.
“Ghk!”
Loen floated up into the air once, then fell back to the floor. His face and whole body hurt.
“Ughhh…”
Loen groaned and opened his eyes. Then he flinched in confusion.
The train was intact.
Had there been no explosion?
No, the explosion had definitely happened. A portion of the train’s underside was crumpled like scrap metal.
Loen clutched the back of his head and looked out the window.
For a moment, his mind went blank.
“…No, what in the… what the hell is this…?”
They were floating.
The entire train car was suspended in the sky.
Not only the VIP car, but all the other train cars caught up in the explosion as well.
They were anchored there, as if stopped in that place, at that time.
It was an exquisitely beautiful moment.
As though magic itself had assimilated into nature.
“This is…”
Loen instinctively took the camera from his breast pocket. The camera, miraculously unbroken, captured the scenery with certainty.
Click— click— click—
The train floating in midair, the explosion frozen in a single moment, and…
“What are you photographing so eagerly?”
Deculein.
His chilling voice, a tone that seemed to rip the heart apart, flowed into his ears.
Even then, he was still reading his book. The assistant beside him was still asleep, leaning against his shoulder.
He was utterly calm.
Loen could not understand that selfish situation at all.
Surely, they had all been caught up in the explosion together.
“You need only speak.”
Rustle— A page turned.
At that moment, Loen sensed it.
Footsteps approaching from somewhere far away. The agile sound of them running down the mountain range.
Dark shadows were drawing closer by the second.
“Who ordered this?”
Before that, Deculein’s blue eyes flashed. Eyes harboring a chilling sharpness finally left the page and turned toward the shadows outside.
“Which damned bastards plotted such a thing?”
At the same time— dozens of assassins burst through the windows.
“That is all you need to say.”
The cherished blades that Deculein had fixed at each corner of the train in preparation for this moment.
Those eight shuriken shot upward like anti-personnel Claymore mines.