Chapter 208: Side Story Chapter
An icy silence fell over the cave. Riftan’s eyes glinted dangerously, and he grabbed his sword off the ground.
“Th-The rune only employs the principle of a troll’s regenerative powers!” Ruth cried out, panicked. “There are no repercussions on the body! Its only adverse effect is the intolerable pain during the healing process.”
Ignoring the frantic explanation, Riftan raised the blade smeared with viscid monster blood to Ruth’s neck.
“What are you?”
“I-I’m just an average-”
“How does an average mage know how to cast a forbidden spell?”
The mage’s forehead resembled a melting candle as he began to sweat profusely. Riftan ruthlessly backed him against the cave wall and continued to press for answers.
“What in the devil are the mages of Nornui doing in their tower? I can’t believe they’d dare involve monsters in their magic. I can tell you now, the church will not take kindly to this. Is the Mage Tower begging to be excommunicated?”
“I doubt it would end at exile. If the truth got out, at the very worst, the church would launch another mage persecution,” the mage reluctantly admitted with a groan. “Which is why it is a closely-guarded secret, so much so that many of the Tower’s mages are not even aware of its existence. Only an elected few are allowed to learn it purely for research purposes.”
“And you happen to be part of this elected few?” Riftan asked, furrowing his brow. He was highly dubious of the claim.
The mage frowned indignantly and shot back, “Indeed, so consider yourself lucky. You would be dead if it weren’t for me. Your injuries were too grave for a typical healing spell, so I had no choice but to break the Mage Tower’s edicts!”
Riftan snorted. “Would you like me to bow down before you in gratitude?”
“I’d certainly appreciate it!” Ruth fumed. “That would be a hundred times better than being threatened with a sword! If the Tower found out I used a forbidden spell, they’d have me flayed before the heathen hunters could even get to me. That is the risk I took to save your life! So, knowing that, do you still dare to threaten me?”
Riftan searched the mage’s face as if to gauge his intentions before slowly lowering his weapon. Though he very much wanted to drag the runt before the Holy Tribunal, doing so would also make Riftan himself a subject of investigation.
He was a half-breed with the blood of a Southern pagan in his veins, whose body had been rehabilitated with questionable magic. It was obvious how the church would see him.
“I’ll let it slide just this once,” Riftan spat through gritted teeth, “but if you use that abominable spell on me again, I won’t be handing you over to the Holy Tribunal. I’ll kill you myself.”
“I wouldn’t even if you asked me to! Next time, I’m going to leave you to die!”
“Please do,” Riftan muttered as he searched in his bag. “If I die, then that would be fate. You don’t have to go out of your way to prolong something that’s supposed to end.”
The mage looked flabbergasted. Riftan pulled out a new tunic from his bag. The one he wore now was tattered after the fight with the monster. After slipping into the last of his decent clothes, he began donning his protective gear that was stacked in the corner.
His body felt unpleasantly light. Did the spell truly have no repercussions as Ruth claimed? He ran a dubious eye over his unscathed body. No longer feeling up to engaging in this war of words with the mage, he held his peace and gathered his weapons.
Ruth, who had been silently watching him get ready, abruptly asked, “Do you have no attachment to life?”
Shooting a glare over his shoulder, he caught the mage with a grave expression he had never seen on him before.
“Had it been anyone else, they would have died ten times over by now. Do you rush headlong into danger like that because you seek death?”
“If that were true, I wouldn’t have fought so desperately. I just...” Riftan trailed off, unable to think of the words.
It was not that he sought death so much as he had no reason to live. Since his life was devoid of any joy, he felt no lingering attachment to it. So, what was he fighting for? Why was he so bent on amassing a fortune and soldiering on? Riftan hastily banished the questions that crept into his heart.
“We don’t have time for this. Get ready. We’re setting out.”
“Right now?”
Flustered, the mage hurriedly picked up his bag. Riftan stuck his head out of the cave to examine the carcass. Dark red entrails spilled from a slit on the monster’s belly the mage must have made to extract its magic stone.
Riftan heaved a sigh. “The blood will draw other monsters. We have to leave before they come.”
“But... is it not a waste to just abandon ship like this? That creature is most certainly a lightning drake. Its scales, skin, and bones would be worth quite a sum!”
Riftan knitted his brows at the unfamiliar name. “A lightning drake?”
“It’s a subspecies of Black Dragon. I’ve only read about them in books, but they’re described as a creature about a fifth of a dragon’s size, wingless, and able to control lightning. What’s more, their magic stone holds a tremendous amount of mana. I’m positive that’s what it is.”
A huge grin stretched across Ruth’s face. The promise of riches on the horizon had completely erased their previous argument from his mind.
“You know as well as I that a dragon subspecies is worth more than any ancient artifact. We’ve landed ourselves a rare monster here. We’re going to be filthy rich!”
“Sure, if you can harvest it and haul it back to the city,” Riftan mumbled sardonically. “I’d like to know how you intend to do that without any tools or means of transport.”
“First, we’ll return to the city and-”
“The harpies would have picked the carcass clean by the time we get back.”
“W-We’ll still have the bones!”
“Oddly enough, for a monster of this size, only a small portion of their bones can be used in magical devices. They’re difficult to cut up or handle, so mages are reluctant to buy them. Besides, do you have any idea how much it would cost to drag the necessary tools up this rugged mountain, dissect this thing, then carry the parts back to the city? Once you’ve divided the money with the other mercenaries, you won’t be left with much.”
“B-But when we hunted wyverns-”
“The bulk of our payments were for the magic stones. The most lucrative part of a dragon subspecies.”
The shining hope on Ruth’s face faded to a visible blue. “But I’ve already used up the mana in the stone to heal you!”
“Well, there’s your answer.”
Riftan slung his bag onto his back. He was used to writing things off as dead weight, so he did not have any qualms about leaving the carcass behind. Ruth, however, kept glancing over his shoulder.
“Can’t we at least take a few scales?”
“You want to carry more when you’re barely keeping up as it is?”
With that, Riftan led the reluctant mage up the dark mountain. Still, killing the creature had not been in vain. Hungry monsters flocked to the carcass once they caught the scent of blood. As a result, they were able to safely traverse the Lemek Mountains.
Things went according to plan after that. Once they reached the historic site, Riftan managed to excavate a few valuable artifacts, which he sold for a good sum in the nearest city. Ruth was less than satisfied with their haul, and he looked greatly displeased despite making more than their usual compensation.
It soon became clear that what was weighing on Ruth was the constant threat of his forbidden magic use coming to light. Even after realizing this, Riftan did not feel any obligation to allay the young man’s unease.
Tying his coin pouch to his belt, he said coldly, “You’d better keep your word and stop following me for a while.”
The mage’s gaze swam with a dozen different things he wanted to say. Riftan pretended not to notice and strode away to his room.
***
Riftan’s wish finally came true. After months of being stuck with the mage, he was on his own. He did not feel as lighthearted as he had thought he would.
...
Irritably sweeping his hair back, he stepped into the noisy tavern. The fact was, he now found himself entangled with a prick several times more annoying than the young mage. Riftan furrowed his brow as he spotted Samon’s exuberant wave across the room.
“Ah, you’re back. Pleasing the client ain’t easy, is it?”
Samon sat with his arms around two women, both of whom had their bosoms spilling out over their bodices. The mercenary had apparently paused his flirting to greet Riftan.
Undeterred by his comrade’s blatant attempt to keep to himself, Samon walked over with a grin plastered across his face. He swung his arm around Riftan’s shoulder.
“Come now, Calypse. When’re you going to loosen up?”
“Piss off.”
“You’re no fun,” Samon slurred, placing his tankard of ale in front of Riftan. “Let’s have a chat. This client seems to be determined to have you in his private army. Why not take this chance to settle down? I hear he’s an aristocrat with considerable influence in northeastern Livadon.”
“You can stay behind if that’s what you want.”
Samon clicked his tongue. “You think that’s up to me? He’s made it clear he doesn’t want me without you.”
“That’s not my problem.”
Riftan shook off Samon’s arm and asked the tavern employee to bring him some food. Just then, one of the women who had been sitting with Samon latched onto Riftan’s bicep.
...
“Hmm, are you really as amazing a swordsman as they say? You have the face of a theater actor, though.”
“Don’t get me started. This chap here is a beast that single-handedly slaughtered eight wyverns.”
“You lie. How is that even possible?”
The woman giggled, and Riftan felt her plump breast bounce against his arm. Losing his appetite, he extricated himself from her grip and moved away. The woman showed no sign of embarrassment; instead, she looked up at him seductively and groped his thigh.
Riftan shot to his feet. “Bring the food to my room when it’s ready.”
After passing the employee a coin, Riftan turned to leave. The woman yanked at his tunic.
“Aw, don’t go yet. If you stay a little longer, I can feed you myself.” She fluttered her thick lashes at him. “Or, if you want, I can go up with you and show you a good time.”
“No thanks.”
Riftan jerked his clothes free from the woman’s grip and headed to the stairs. He heard Samon’s hearty laugh behind him.
“Don’t be upset. That kid ain’t a real man yet. C’mere, I’ll show both of you a good time.”
When Riftan looked over his shoulder, he caught Samon burrowing his face in the woman’s bosom. Her giddy laughter rang out across the tavern. After impassively watching them for a moment, he turned to trudge up the stairs. He could feel the woman’s gaze on his back all the way to his room.
He was sick of it. Women had been hounding him ever since he was fourteen, trying to get into his bed. Now, he bristled any time someone touched him.
Riftan rubbed his arm to wipe away the lingering sensation of the woman’s breast. Once he was locked in his room, he realized the thin floorboards let through all the noise of the tavern below.
This content is taken from (f)reewe(b)novel.𝗰𝗼𝐦