by Michael Sisa
This group must have heard of his feats in the war with the Empire, as they made sure not to give him any room to breathe and cast magic. They continued firing spells one after another, forcing Lark to be on the defensive.
Lark quickly scanned the battlefield. Chryselle was being pushed back after an assassin leader started targeting her. She’d been forced to create several mana shields to block the incessant attacks from all around her. Anandra, on the other hand, was massacring several assassins using skill and brute force alone. Even the assassin leader targeting him had already lost an arm and was now trying to maintain his distance.
Lark looked at the barrier protecting the carriage. It should be able to block attacks for a few minutes more, before the mithril cube eventually ran out of mana.
Let’s finish this.
The pieces of mithril cubes scattered and moved about, blocking the attacks of Lark’s enemies. Using this opening, Lark cast flight magic and flew up into the sky. A colossal amount of mana started oozing out of his body and a thirty-meter wide magic circle started forming above him.
With absurdly fast casting speed incomparable even to royal court magicians, layers upon layers of runes started forming and overlapping with each other, creating the magic circle.
The assassins must have realized that Lark was trying to cast Grand Scale Magic. They desperately fired spells at him one after another, but the pieces of mithril formed a translucent barrier and blocked all of the attacks, giving Lark enough time to complete his spell.
Lark grinned. These guys were strong, but they were nothing but small fries when compared to General Alvaren. Thinking back to his fight against that old man, this fight seemed trivial.
Grand Scale Magic wasn’t enough to kill the Magic Slayer of the Empire. But it should be more than enough to kill these pesky flies.
Without uttering a word, Lark activated his spell.
Grand Scale Magic—Will of the Dryad.
The ground shook and the trees started uprooting themselves. Faces, which resembled a human in despair, started forming on the bark of the trees.
“W-What’s happening?!” cried one of the assassins.
Everyone was aghast when the entire forest came to life. The moment the trees uprooted themselves, they started slaughtering the assassins. Roots and branches shot from all directions and pierced the bodies of Lark’s enemies. Leaves infused with mana turned into blades and rained down, cutting the assassins on the ground.
“What the hell is this!?”
“Why are the trees suddenly attacking us!?”
Shouts, screams, and death throes echoed in the forest as the sea of trees continued slaughtering the assassins.
The assassin leaders resisted, and they even managed to cut and burn down several monster trees. But Lark knew that it was only a matter of time before all of the assassins were annihilated.
Minutes passed. The assassin leaders realized they couldn’t win and tried retreating, but the monster trees formed barriers made of roots and twigs.
There was no escaping the living forest.
Seeing that escape was near impossible, the assassins fought for dear life. They cut down the trees one after another, but soon, the accumulated injuries and fatigue started to wear them down. Those who stopped to recuperate for a second were pierced by a root, and those who failed to protect their backs were cut by the mana-infused leaves.
The assassins were dropping dead like kelnup flies.
When almost all of the enemies were dead, Lark flew down and landed on the ground. He walked toward the only remaining survivor—the assassin leader Chryselle had fought.
The limping assassin leader glared at Lark for a moment, before pointing his blade at his own neck. Since they’d failed, he’d rather die than be interrogated by this monster.
“I still have questions for you.”
Vines quickly shot up from the ground and ensnared the assassin leader’s body. The assassin tried to move his body but failed.
If killing himself with the blade isn’t feasible, then magic was the only remaining option. The assassin leader tried summoning earth spikes from the ground to pierce his body, but to his surprise, his spell wouldn’t activate no matter what.
He stared at Lark and realized that this young man had just interfered with his spell, cancelling it right at the middle of runes formation.
The assassin leader’s eyes widened.
Impossible.
That feat should be impossible to pull off unless one had spell casting speed several times faster than your average magician. Furthermore, one would need an absurdly fine control over his mana to interfere with the spell of another magician.
It was easy to guess what was going through the assassin’s mind after looking at his stupefied expression.
“It’s pretty easy to cancel low-tier spells of a disabled enemy. There are a limited number of spells you could cast in a short time, after all,” Lark said.
Lark grabbed the assassin leader’s mask and pulled it off.
Bald head, thick mustache, round eyes. A man in his mid-forties. He looked ordinary, the face of someone you’d frequently see on the roadside.
The assassin glared at Lark, his face clearly saying that he wouldn’t spill out any information, no matter what.
“I still have some mana left in the mithril cubes.” Lark grinned. He found it amusing. “I don’t mind spending an entire day reading fragments of your memories.”
The assassin leader shuddered upon hearing those words. He never knew such magic existed.
Lark placed his hand on the assassin’s face.
“Now, let’s start.”
CHAPTER 19
After reading the fragments of memories of the assassin, Lark found the reason their group was suddenly attacked on their way to the capital. Although the information he got wasn’t complete, it was enough to link the pieces of the puzzle together.
It seemed that a high-ranking official was the one behind the attack. Lord Hais, a minister of the Kingdom and one of the royal advisors of His Majesty.
When Lark told everyone, the princess and the knights couldn’t believe it. According to them, Lord Hais was a benevolent man and was among the most loyal retainers of His Majesty, even before he ascended the throne. He was among the pillars of the king’s faction, together with Lady Ropianna, the retired General Carlos, and Viscount Lakian.
Had Lark not read the memories of the assassin, that man would have been among the last to be suspected among the nobles.
“Impossible.” Princess Esmeralda was holding the dead body of her knight, Andrew. Tears flowed from her eyes. “Why would Uncle Hais order these assassins to kill us?”
“According to the memories of this assassin, there’s another high-ranking official is pulling the strings. There’s a possibility that your uncle is merely a pawn,” said Lark. “But this doesn’t change the fact that he ordered our assassination.”
The princess sobbed. She gripped the dead body of Andrew tight. This knight had pledged his loyalty to her when she was still a child. She still couldn’t believe that the man had died like this.
When was the last time she thanked her knights for always being by her side? She wished she could talk to Andrew one last time. She wished she could tell him how grateful she was to him, that despite her having no political power, he still chose to serve her regardless.
Lark stared at the sobbing princess. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save him too.”
Lark had lost several comrades back in his previous life. He knew the feeling of losing someone special. That wrenching sensation in your heart as you tried to reject the reality in front of you.
The princess bobbed her head but didn’t reply. She continued to sob, all the while hugging the dead body tight.
Lark looked around them. Fallen trees and a few hundred dead bodies littered the ground. Now that the Grand Scale Magic had ended, the forest returned to its silence.
For a moment, he regrette
d that he spared only one assassin. He should have kept another one alive.
I tried diving deeper into the assassin’s memories, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find any information regarding the other high-ranking official.
Only the name of Lord Hais came out of the memories of the assassin, as though they’d been conditioned to never reveal the name of the other official.
The demon’s not the only thing we need to worried about, huh?
With this incident, it was clear that they had enemies in the Kingdom. And these enemies wanted to stop them stepping even a single foot in the capital.
“My Lord.” Anandra bowed his head. “What should we do with the assassin?”
Lark looked at the last remaining assassin. The man looked like a walking corpse, a man without a will of his own. This was the adverse effect of memory-reading magic. Lark was sure that right now, the man was on the verge of insanity.
“Tie him up, gag his mouth.” Lark didn’t pity the man in the slightest. Had the situation been reversed, their group would have been the one on the receiving end. “I purposely didn’t shatter his mind. In several days, he’ll eventually recover. He’ll have his use later on.”
“Understood,” said Anandra.
This man might become their trump card to force this so-called Lord Hais to confess his crimes. Killing him here would be foolish.
“Chryselle, can you cast a ward spell to prevent him from using his magic once he wakes up?” said Lark.
“Please leave it to me.”
After Anandra was done tying up the man, Chryselle started casting her spell. A chain of light wrapped around the man’s chest, before disappearing from sight. Although it wasn’t perfect, it should be enough to deter this assassin from casting his magic once he recovered.
Lark was satisfied at this. His disciples were becoming more and more reliable as time went by.
Lark turned to the princess and her knights. “Princess, do you still wish to go to the capital?”
The princess rubbed her puffy eyes. “What do you mean? Of course, I’m going!”
The princess looked at the dead body in her hands. “I can’t let his death go to waste. We’re definitely going to cure Father!”
Lark looked at the dead horses and coachmen.
Parzival followed Lark’s gaze and sighed. “The carriages are still intact, but there’s no way we can use them when all the horses are dead. I guess we’ll be walking to the capital.”
Lark took out a map from his sling bag. Based on their current location, it would take them at least four days to arrive at the capital by foot.
That would be too dangerous.
They did not know when another group of assassins would attack them. It would still be better to move by cart, since it would at least confer some protection from attacks.
“Austen, George,” Lark called out the brothers.
“Young master?”
“I’ll be borrowing your bodies for a moment.”
Austen and George instinctively took a step back. Right now, the young master was looking at them with mischievous eyes.
“Bodies? W-What do you mean, Young Master?” George asked.
Lark found those fearful eyes amusing. Did these two really think he was some sort of a demon?
“My mana’s almost depleted after casting Grand Scale Magic and after reading the memories of that assassin, so the two of you’ll have to help me. It will be a bit painful, but I’ll try to make it as tolerable as possible,” said Lark. “Come over here.”
Although reluctant, George and Austen approached the young master.
Lark stared at the brothers. “George should be enough for now.” Lark placed his hand on George’s chest. “It will be uncomfortable and a bit painful, but please try to endure.”
Lark guided the mana inside George’s body and started casting an eight-tier spell. Numerous runes started manifesting above them, forming a large magic formation. At the same time, George felt pain course through his entire body, as though dozens of needles were piercing his skin. An adverse effect of forcefully casting a high-ranking spell. Seeing the pained expression of his disciple, Lark slowed down the formation of runes as he tried to reduce the pain as much as possible.
“I’m sorry. But this is our best option as of this moment,” Lark said.
George gnashed his teeth and nodded. After a few minutes, the magic formation was finally complete.
“Follow my lead,” Lark said to George. “Now, activate your magic.”
With Lark guiding the flow of mana, George activated the spell. The boy’s eyes widened the moment the magic formation glowed and shattered into particles of light. Although he’d been guided by his master, this was the first time George had cast a high-ranking spell.
Slowly, two translucent white horses manifested before them. The mounts were so beautiful that it would have been easy to mistaken them as creatures from the legends. The horses neighed. One of them gently rubbed its head against George’s shoulder.
“T-This…” breathed George. “I was the one who cast this magic?”
The horses looked like moving crystals. On their head, two small horns protruded.
“How’s it?” Lark grinned. “Based on the amount of mana the spell consumed, it’ll take at least a day before the horses disappear. We will have already arrived at the capital by then.”
George was thrilled. He hugged the neck of the horse and even started thinking of a name. Austen frowned as he looked at the mythical-looking creatures. He wanted one too.
“Young Master,” Austen looked at George with envy, “if we need more of those things to pull the carriages—”
“—Those two are more than enough,” said Lark.
Austen gazed at the horses jealously. Right now, George was stroking their manes.
“Someday, will I be able to do that too?” Austen finally asked.
“Of course,” Lark replied without hesitation. “The two of you are still young. Just keep practicing and you’ll be able to do this on your own someday. You already have the required amount of mana, after all. For someone so young like yourselves, time is your reliable ally.”
After attaching the horses to the carriages, and after removing the trees blocking the road, the group resumed their journey to the capital. But unlike before, for some reason, the princess now sat in the same carriage as Lark and his disciples.
There was awkward silence as the princess peeked at Lark now and then. She seemed to have something to say, but would decide to keep the words to herself at the last moment.
Eventually, Lark broke the ice. “What is it, Princess?” Lark smiled, amicably, as to not frighten Her Highness.
The Princess’ face flushed upon seeing this. She could still vividly remember when Lark almost single-handedly wiped out all of the assassins. It was the first time she’d seen someone so powerful and capable. For a moment, she questioned how someone younger than her could be so well-versed in magic.
“I… I haven’t thanked you before,” she finally blurted the words out. Lark listened. “I know t-that this might sound foolish, that a princess like me is thinking this way,” said Princess Esmeralda, “b-but I consider those knights part of my family.” Tears started forming at the corner of the princess’ eyes. She bowed her head, her platinum hair covering half her face. “F-For saving Tomas. Thank you. Thank you very much.”
For a moment, silence befell the second carriage, with only the muffled sobs of the princess as the background.
“I understand what you mean,” said Lark. “The butler at Blackstone Town, the mason, the kitchen staff, even the gardener at the mansion.” Lark looked at all of his disciples seated in the carriage. “And these disciples of mine. All of them. They’re family.”
George and Austen bewilderedly stared at the young master for a moment, while Anandra simply remained stoic and silent. Chryselle, on the other hand, averted her gaze, her face a bit redder than before.
The princess raised her head and gazed at Lark. She softly said, “Family... Even the servants?” This was the first time she’d heard a noble say something like this. And for some reason, she completely agreed with it. She remembered the maids attending to her every needs back in the capital ever since she was a child—Roseanne, Julie, and Krista—she also considered those three maids as family.
“Of course.” Lark smiled broadly.
The face of the Princess flushed even further. She started staring at the floor. She mumbled, “Is… that so?”
Lark opened the window and looked outside. At this rate, they would arrive at the capital one day from now.
***
Lord Hais paced back and forth in his room in his mansion. It had been more than a day since he’d lost contact with Black Midas.
“Still no news yet?” said Lord Hais.
One of the two men kneeling in the room spoke. “We’ve yet to receive any reports from Black Midas, My Lord.”
“What the hell are those bastards doing?” he snarled, his voice echoing inside the room. “Those incompetent maggots! If they failed in killing the princess, then they should at least report to me, their new lord!” Lord Hais huffed, his face contorted in anger.
Black Midas was the undisputed strongest assassin group in the entire Kingdom. He knew that there was no way those assassins would make a rookie mistake such as not reporting back to him. If they suddenly lost contact with them, then it meant only one thing—they had all been killed by their enemy.
But that was impossible.
There were a few hundred of those assassins. Furthermore, the division leaders of that assassin group were monsters capable of single-handedly killing all of his guards.
“Damn it.” Lord Hais clicked his tongue.
For a moment, he wondered if this was a ploy of Duke Kelvin. Maybe that fat bastard merely pretended to have transferred authority over his men to him. As he was lost in his thoughts, loud knocks were heard on the door.
“My Lord, we’ve received a message from the crown,” a man’s voice was heard outside the door.
