Chapter 297: Aboard the Ship

A few days later, a secret message traveled from the Borderfall City to the desolate plains.

A strange, massive vessel sailing across the land.

Two men standing in the eye of the storm.

“Cadis has already planted the mark. We can notify the people inside now,” said one of them calmly.

“This sudden change of plans was rushed. Cadis still hasn’t returned… Could there be a problem with the mark?” the other man frowned.

The first man shook his head. “The blood on the new sprout of the Soul Devouring Flower is fresh. Cadis might have been injured in battle. Maybe seriously. That could be why he hasn’t come back. But even if he died out there, it doesn’t matter. Once the mission was done, he was no longer needed.”

“What if he got captured by people from the Wizard Tower? Could he leak our plans?”

“Relax. Before sending Cadis out, his mentor already planted the Soul Devouring Flower’s mark deep within his soul. Even under the harshest torture, he wouldn’t be able to recall anything about the Soul Devouring Flower.”

“That’s a relief. I suppose the Flower’s powers are still reliable. So you guys planned to abandon him from the start, huh? Doesn’t it pain you to lose a Third Rank apprentice for nothing?”

The first man turned his head to look at the second.

He had a short beard covering his face, but if one observed closely, they would see the hairs squirming subtly.

The second man lowered his head under that gaze.

“Are you testing my resolve?” The bearded man seized the second man’s head and forced it down toward him. “When I, Wilder, say something, I mean it. Since we’ve signed the agreement, I’ll follow through, even if it means sinking the entire crew of the Land Drifters.”

Wilder—the captain of the Land Drifters. The only True Second Rank wizard in the organization.

Because of Wilder’s motion, their faces were now very close.

It should have been an intimate distance that might even make a man uncomfortable, but in the next second, Wilder’s beard suddenly writhed and lengthened, piercing deep into the other man’s flesh.

Drops of blood gathered on the man’s face and neck, sliding down with wet splashes onto the ship’s coarse wooden deck.

Then seeped through the cracks.

The second man trembled all over. He wanted to speak, but his lips were already sewn shut by Wilder’s beard. When he tried to open his mouth, only a black mesh of threads could be seen between his teeth.

His bloodshot eyes stared up desperately, begging Wilder with his gaze.

But Wilder didn’t look at the bloodied man. His gaze remained straight ahead, focused on the rising sun at the edge of the desert.

In his eyes, it looked more like a sunset.

Only when the man in his arms began to weaken in his struggling did Wilder finally let go.

“Remember this—when everything is done, I’ll marry Kira and become the new king of Kema. Whatever happens in Kema afterward, none of you are allowed to interfere.”

The released man collapsed to his knees, his hands trembling as he touched his face like it were rough sandpaper. As the pain surged now that Wilder’s beard had withdrawn, his voice came out in broken fragments.

“Y-yes… Everything… Everything according to the three-party agreement…”

Wilder nodded. “Good.”

“Th-then I’ll head back now… I need to… report this as soon as possible.”

“Get lost.”

Once the second man scrambled off the ship like a kicked dog, Wilder’s eyes remained fixed on the sun.

“Is that Saul really so important? I heard even Gorsa, who almost never leaves the Wizard Tower, once personally came to pick him up.” Another man stepped onto the deck.

Wilder didn’t look back. “That’s why we’re very interested in the boy. But every attempt to contact him has failed. Gorsa seems intent on protecting him.”

The newcomer rubbed his fingers together. “I feel an urge to destroy anyone Gorsa favors.”

Wilder said indifferently, “Aruba, you’d better not act on your own. If you ruin the plan, I won’t even be the angriest person involved.”

The second prince of the Kenas, Aruba, was also their best hope of advancing to a Second Rank wizard.

Unfortunately, his recent advancement attempt had failed, leaving him injured. He used the excuse of recovering in seclusion to secretly come aboard the Land Drifters.

After all, some recovery methods weren’t convenient to perform within his own country.

“I know. I wouldn’t want to be the one who takes the heat from all those folks who’ve been bottling up their fury toward Gorsa. Haha, I’m just curious—if one day, Gorsa discovers that the disciple he so carefully nurtured ends up becoming the guillotine that cuts off his own head… I wonder if he’ll still be able to smile?”

“Gorsa’s real reason for going out that time… wasn’t to pick up an apprentice, you know~”

Suddenly, a teasing voice cut into their conversation.

“Who’s there?” Aruba’s face darkened as he turned toward the voice.

But Wilder remained calmly staring at the rising sun.

Just then, a silver-haired, handsome man with a frivolous expression slowly emerged from the blinding light of the sun.

He was casually holding a harp in his hand, dangling it as if it might slip from his fingers at any moment.

Wilder’s gaze was already fixed in the direction where Kismet appeared, as if he hadn’t been watching the sunrise, but rather waiting for the silver-haired man to step into the sun’s halo.

“Who are you?” Aruba had never met Kismet, but seeing how composed Wilder remained, he knew the two must be acquainted.

“Just someone irrelevant,” Kismet landed on the deck and waved the harp at Aruba.

At the sight of the instrument, a memory flashed through Aruba’s mind—his failed advancement attempt.

The scene had something to do with a harp too.

He’d already executed all the musicians involved in that performance, though it had only barely eased his frustration.

The sting of failure still hadn’t fully faded even now.

Judging by the silver-haired man’s attitude toward Wilder, Aruba suspected this newcomer was also a Second Rank wizard.

He pushed those memories aside and adjusted his tone slightly.

“You’re also a guest of the captain’s?”

Kismet leaned back against the railing and placed his harp on a bulging plank of wood.

“I’m just here to watch the show.”

“You said earlier that Gorsa had another reason for going out. What was it?” Wilder frowned, growing impatient now that Kismet had started chatting without finishing his earlier, more intriguing point.

Kismet turned his head and lightly plucked a string with his pinky. A clear “ting——” rang out.

“He went to meet an old friend. On his way back, he saved his little apprentice in passing.”

“Who did he meet?” Wilder’s voice was tinged with concern—an old friend of Gorsa’s might disrupt their plans.

“A half-elf.”

Shock!

Both Wilder and Aruba showed clear changes in expression.

The atmosphere instantly turned tense.

“Will this half-elf interfere with our plans?” Wilder pressed on.

“Not at all~” Kismet raised a finger and wagged it. “You all know how hard it is for a half-elf to live peacefully in this world. She wouldn’t make a move for anyone. Besides, every time a half-elf takes action, it weakens her connection to this world. And once that link becomes too faint… she’ll disappear like the other elves.”

“Even if she won’t act lightly, how can you be sure her relationship with Gorsa won’t interfere with our plans?” Aruba asked.

Kismet turned his head again to face Aruba with a playful smile. “Because that half-elf… is also an old friend of mine~”

(End of Chapter)

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