The 9th Class Swordmaster: Blade of Truth

Chapter 151: The Hunt (4)

"As you know, Kromen has returned."

It was late at night. Kromen had fallen asleep early after that long flight.

Olivurn, who had taken up lodgings far from Marquis Vestal’s territory, spoke while looking at the lights within the domain, "Father will be disappointed when he finds out about this."

"With all due respect, the matter was too significant for the Third Prince to handle alone."

Despite his response, Viscount Harun couldn’t help being impressed.

Was he waiting for this?

After the path was blocked by the Sand Serpent, Olivurn took no action; instead, he simply retreated to Marquis Vestal’s territory.

Olivurn’s subordinates, including Harun, were more anxious than he was. If Harun had been in his shoes, he would have borrowed knights from Marquis Vestal to recklessly hunt the Sand Serpent.

Perhaps Prince Olivurn anticipated Prince Kromen’s failure.

Luon had lost forty thousand soldiers, while Kromen’s Guidance Mercenary Gang had abandoned him. In essence, only Olivurn’s expedition had come out of this with no substantial losses.

This realization made Harun acknowledge Olivurn’s foresight.

"Haha, with all due respect, it was my doing. Here I am, sitting in the marquisate, feeling sorry for myself."

"This isn’t your fault, Prince Olivurn. The attack on the Five Great Families was initially agreed upon with Digon. In fact, they were the ones who proposed it, being so apprehensive about the Chang’s family surge in power.”

The Five Great Families of the Abyssal Rock were notable even among the barbarians. Unlike the four tribes of the Great Plains, who made their living by hunting, some of the Five Families had embraced continental culture through trade with the Three Kingdoms of Istria.

It was only natural that they were developing.

"In fact, we deserve compensation for this incident,” Harun voiced his opinion without hesitation, despite Olivurn’s self-deprecating remark.

"Indeed, Tiren also realized that. Did you see the oath he crafted?" Olivurn spoke in a low voice as he gazed at the marquis's castle in the distance.

"But Digon played dumb all throughout."

"Yeah. At least the queen understands the gravity of the situation. For a barbarian, she's quite smart. But to flat out refuse our offer... that's baffling."

Olivurn was quite perplexed by Digon’s extreme response, although Kromen’s failure was the outcome he had hoped for.

"What are your plans moving forward?"

"Well... I can’t stay in the marquisate forever."

Olivurn stood deep in thought, his hands folded at his chest, trembling slightly, unmistakably from joy.

"The empire suffered more losses on the way to the south than expected. Others might look at this simply as an attempt to invade... but returning like this would tarnish the empire’s prestige."

"However, starting another conflict with Digon now wouldn't be wise,” Harun argued. “Maybe Prince Luon could, but we don't have the forces. Especially since the Guidance Mercenary Gang have abandoned Prince Kromen."

"Right. It's impossible for us to start a war with Digon. My brother had a hard time even with his army of seventy thousand.”

In truth, whether through military threat or negotiation, the three princes' ultimate goal had always been peace.

I never liked this from the start.

Olivurn waved his hand lightly, as if repulsed by the air of the south.

"But for the emperor..."

Olivurn looked out the window.

"A war with the barbarians would be nothing."

"Excuse me?"

"A war..." Olivurn repeated, muttering softly. "We can't start a war ourselves, but... we can create a reason for one."

His eyes gleamed sharply.

"Although it’s not obvious, everyone knows Father favors Prince Kromen.”

Viscount Harun immediately grasped Olivurn's intention. A knight of the empire couldn’t just voice such thoughts, but Olivurn had already steeled himself.

"This is the perfect time to create a pretext," Harun remarked.

Olivurn nodded slowly, satisfied with the viscount’s understanding.

"Exactly."

***

"What’s this?"

"Well... It’s a note from one of the people who came with Prince Kromen today."

"Hmm."

Martte MacGovern, who was in his room by himself, received the note. Hearing about the people who had accompanied Kromen, his younger siblings were the first to come to mind. He was eager to meet them as soon as possible. Most of all, he was curious about Randol’s fate.

Although Tiren's nod had reassured him of Randol's well-being, he wanted to personally make sure of that. However, given how sensitive the situation was, Martte couldn’t just contact Kromen’s party.

Olivurn was the only one who had managed to meet with Kromen. Each faction remained separated, from meals to sleeping arrangements, maintaining a careful distance from each other.

"Is this really for me? Are you sure?"

"Yes, sir."

The one who had handed the note was a familiar face to Martte—a young stable boy who managed the horses outside.

Who could it be? Given the cautious situation with the princes, it’s dangerous to make contact now...

Martte eyed the boy with suspicion before examining the note he had received from him.

"..."

It seemed like an ordinary piece of paper, but Martte instantly realized who the sender was based on the finely cut corners.

It’s a family mark. Father himself taught us this method of coding letters.

"Th-Then I’ll be going..."

The stable boy quickly bowed and left, afraid of being caught, knowing the consequences would be severe.

"Tiren, you must have a good reason to be taking such a risk..."

After the boy left, Martte opened the note.

"...!!"

He carefully read the message, and when he reached the end, his expression hardened. He quickly glanced around.

"No way... Is this true?"

Martte quickly scanned his surroundings once more before throwing the note in the fireplace. He stood there by himself, disconcerted by what he had just read.

Fwoosh...!

Only after the note had been completely reduced to ashes did Martte let out a sigh of relief.

"..."

For a few moments, he didn’t move from place, glancing out the window in contemplation, his eyes flickering with uncertainty.

Clunk—

The stable boy stood up slowly in the hallway after leaving Martte’s room.

"Hmm."

The tension from earlier was gone, replaced by an air of ease. As he straightened up, his eyes briefly changed from blue to a black hue rarely seen among the empire's people.

When he stood up fully, his eyes had turned green.

I'll see you later.

Removing his cap, he walked down the hallway with an ambiguous smile on his face.

***

Whoosh...

A gust of wind blew.

Although the harvest was not yet complete, the night wind carried a chill.

"..."

Martte walked along the forest path, concealing his presence. As he entered the mountain range where the airship had left Kromen, he pulled his collar up and scanned his surroundings.

"Are you here?"

"You, of all people, should understand how dangerous this is."

"Yes, I know, precisely because of how important this is."

Turning toward the voice, Martte muttered the name of the one who had called him, "Tiren."

He could make out a pair of light green eyes glimmering in the dark. Martte remembered that among his siblings, Tiren was the one with such eyes—a rare color on the continent.

"Where is Randol?"

"He’s alive. He’s under the Queen of Digon. He’s probably trying to find the one who annihilated the Ryeo Knights on his own."

"Foolish... How can a knight disobey the emperor's command and act independently?"

Tiren gave a faint smile.

"You know he’s a commoner, not a noble like us."

At that, Martte frowned slightly.

"That doesn’t sound like you. I thought you valued Randol the most among us. Didn’t you appreciate his talent?"

"I do, but I don’t see an imperial who relies on barbarians as my brother.”

Martte smiled bitterly at Tiren’s cold reply. He leaned against a tree, and without looking at his brother, he asked, "The contents of the note... is it true?"

"It's my hypothesis."

"It’s even scarier if it’s your hypothesis."

Concerned about anyone overhearing, Martte lowered his voice to a mere murmur.

"Are you saying that Prince Olivurn has been waiting for... Prince Kromen?"

"Yes."

"What made you come to that conclusion?"

"The fact that he was just staying there, in Marquis Vestal’s territory. The Prince Olivurn we know wouldn’t just wait around without taking any action."

"..."

Hesitantly, Martte asked in a low voice, "Are you really saying... that Prince Olivurn plans to assassinate Prince Kromen?"

"Yes."

Martte’s cheek twitched upon hearing Tiren’s confirmation.

Assassination...

Martte couldn’t even bring himself to say that word out loud, that was how shocked he was.

"It’s a pretext for war," Tiren explained in a calm voice, his attitude in stark contrast to his trembling brother.

"There isn’t much time. Listen, all I need you to do is keep a close watch on Prince Olivurn, but make sure no one notices," Tiren went on. "If there comes a moment when Prince Olivurn dismisses his guards and is alone with Prince Kromen..."

He emphasized his final words.

"Blood will be shed."

The sudden revelation shook Martte.

"..."

The cold wind struck his cheek.

"We didn’t meet tonight. No one can know of this."

At Martte's words, Tiren nodded slightly, indicating that he was on the same page.

"Of course."

***

Shortly after Martte left, Tiren turned and walked in the opposite direction.

Rustle... Rustle... Rustle...

His footsteps were unusually silent for a sorcerer.

Hum...

As Tiren walked into the forest, with a faint hum of mana, his face became blurry as if he were underwater. Amazingly, his light green eyes turned black, then brown.

Martte, you’ve matured quite a bit since I last saw you, even suspecting your siblings... Color me impressed.

The cumbersome mask finally went off, revealing none other than Karyl’s face.

They would never imagine I’d know the MacGovern family mark. It’s only natural, as it was the last thing your father taught me when he sent me the war letter in my previous life. Karyl wore a bitter smile.

It was a mark proving the family’s trust, but ironically enough, Karyl had just used it for the first time to deceive them.

Olivurn, I know you better than anyone. With your twisted and vile nature, you wouldn’t miss this opportunity.

It was Olivurn who had killed Kromen in their previous life.

Of course you’d just wait there comfortably after learning of Luon’s failure. What Olivurn desired was...

“Aaaaaah...!!”

“Aaaah!!”

Sa-Save me...!!

“Aargh!!!”

Suddenly, countless screams echoed within Karyl’s mind—the cries of the immigrants and barbarians just before their deaths, memories ingrained into his mind.

And standing on their corpses was Emperor Olivurn.

After what you did back then, I know exactly what kind of man you are. You never had any intention to resolve this issue with Digon.

What Olivurn wanted was conflict.

I created the perfect stage for you, so flawless that you must be itching to act. Karyl’s eyes gleamed.

Kill Kromen and pin the crime on the barbarians. In your mind, you already see yourself as the tragic prince who lost his brother, receiving condolences and leading the charge for revenge as a hero.

Just as in the previous life, when Olivurn had poisoned Kromen.

Go ahead, try it. This time, I’ll reveal your true self to those who trust you without question.

"The big catch..." Karyl uttered in a low voice, as if to dispel his sentimentality. "It’s time to reel it in."

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