Chapter 212: Auction House (2)
“Truly shrewd.”
Jeil Enbarso, who had been sitting alone on a park bench, muttered softly.
His gaze lingered on Lian, who had come alone to seek him out a moment ago and boldly presented his proposal.
Coming to see him alone rather than in a group, and on top of that, daring to openly demand a deal from him…….
He truly was a man shrewd beyond measure.
‘But not despicable.’
Moreover, Jeil Enbarso happened to quite like people who were shrewd without being despicable, this sort in particular.
“Hmm.”
Let me rewind time a little.
When Lian, who had come to find him while he was resting alone, cautiously asked for help, Jeil Enbarso once again expressed his clear refusal without hesitation.
The reason was simple.
He said that he was already retired and no longer wished to involve himself in worldly affairs.
He also added that his physical condition was not what it used to be.
To begin with, his disposition was not that of a man who readily offered help to others anyway.
‘Hm.’
At that point, Lian suddenly pulled an entry tag to the Auction House from his chest and began reciting what he had uncovered.
The fact that the remains of a High Elf were to be put up for auction, along with the date and location where that auction would be held…….
On top of that, he even made a proposal that was absurd beyond belief at first glance: that he would first fulfill Jeil Enbarso’s request, and only afterward ask for help in return.
“Let me ask you one thing.”
“Yes.”
“What would you do if I did not keep my word?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well.”
Jeil Enbarso.
No, Valen Zeisho asked in a calm tone.
“I am asking what you would do if I took only your help, branded you as originally promised, and then vanished without a trace.”
At Valen Zeisho’s question, Lian replied in an equally calm voice.
“What would happen, really?”
“Hm?”
“Nothing more than a child who grew up hearing the great name of the Wolpen Knights becoming deeply disappointed and disheartened upon realizing that the name and reputation he believed in were nothing like reality. Other than that, nothing at all would happen.”
“…….”
At that answer, Valen Zeisho let out a chuckle without realizing it.
Struggling to hold back laughter that seemed ready to burst out at any moment, he slowly shook his head.
“Haha….”
“…….”
Lian did not laugh.
Valen Zeisho looked at him with a smile still on his face.
“I guarantee you, that was the most frightening threat I have ever heard in all my life.”
In the end, he accepted Lian’s proposal.
He said that he did not know how much help he would be, but that he would do it nonetheless.
“……Whew.”
Once their discussion had settled to some extent, Lian let out a small sigh of relief.
After that, he cautiously began to speak about the Iron Needle and the Masked Man.
Throughout Lian’s explanation, Valen Zeisho’s expression remained impassive, but Lian did not miss the subtle twitch of his eyebrows from time to time.
“First of all, I do not know who that masked fellow is either. No one in particular comes to mind.”
After hearing everything, Valen Zeisho slowly opened his mouth.
“However, among those once called the Eight Demon Lords, there were some who used abilities similar to his. There is no need to mention their names…….”
He shook his head, saying that his memory was hazy to begin with.
“One of them excelled at manipulating puppets, and another took pleasure in pulling out parts of his own body, inserting them into others, and then detonating them remotely or transmitting power through them.”
“…….”
“But now that I say it out loud, they are similar yet different in nature.”
“Is there any possibility that the power of those two remains? I once fought someone who possessed a fragment of one of the Eight Demon Lords…….”
“You mean to ask whether he might have stolen the remnants of that power?”
“Yes.”
“There is no need to worry about that.”
Valen Zeisho stated firmly.
“Those two were not sealed—we ground them down so thoroughly that not even their corpses remained, and then burned even their bone dust without leaving a trace. If it were anyone else, perhaps, but there is no way fragments of those two could still exist.”
He paused briefly and looked at Lian.
“And it seems you have judged that Iron Needle to be the power of the Eight Demon Lords—no, the so-called power of the Demons…… but in my view, that possibility is low.”
Lian tilted his head.
“Why is that?”
“Because those with such power who also possessed a disposition vile enough to step forward so openly and commit such revolting acts all died long ago.”
“……Died?”
“Indeed.”
Valen Zeisho nodded.
“We killed them all. Without leaving a single one.”
Valen Zeisho spoke calmly, as if he were stating an utterly obvious fact.
There was not the slightest ripple of emotion in his voice.
It was a tone so indifferent that it was as if he were merely pulling out weeds growing by the roadside.
“…….”
At that attitude, Lian felt a chill crawl up his spine.
“Hmm…… above all, an undetectable power. And if even an Archmage cannot sense it…… then the possibilities narrow down to only a few.”
Muttering like that, Valen Zeisho shrugged his shoulders.
“But there is still not enough information, so I cannot pin it down to anything specific. Once the board is set a little more, I will be able to make a firm judgment.”
He briefly seemed lost in thought, running his fingers down his chin.
Soon, as if he had come to an understanding, he nodded and continued.
“Now I think I finally understand why you asked me for help. ……It may sound odd to say this now, but I can say without hesitation that you made the right decision.”
Thump—he tapped his own chest.
“There are few who possess as much experience and years as this body does. And matters like these, as is usually the case, require the wisdom of those with vast experience and long seasoning.”
Then Valen Zeisho clapped his hands loudly.
“Very well. In a way, this is like you juniors taking on the unfinished business that our generation could not conclude…… so this is something I ought to step forward for. If I cannot act directly, I will gladly serve at least as an advisor and counselor.”
As he said that, he added, as if to make sure it was not forgotten,
“Of course, all of that is after my own business is finished.”
“That is only natural.”
“Good. Then the deal is struck.”
Valen Zeisho nodded in satisfaction.
“So then, when exactly did you say this auction would be held?”
“The day after tomorrow.”
At Lian’s reply, Valen Zeisho’s shoulders twitched slightly.
“……That was not a figure of speech? You truly meant the day after tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“…….”
He muttered something under his breath and rose from his seat.
“……Then let us meet again at that time.”
Patting Lian’s shoulder a couple of times, he whispered quietly.
“And at that time, I will hand this over as well.”
“……Yes, I will see you then.”
“Hm.”
Lian silently watched his back as he disappeared without the slightest hesitation or lingering attachment.
“…….”
At a glance, his attitude might have seemed irresponsible and indifferent, but in truth, he had given Lian far more information than expected.
‘The possibilities narrow down to a few…….’
A power that was not that of the Demons, yet could not be sensed even by an Archmage.
And most likely not a fragment of the Eight Demon Lords.
‘Then…….’
Lian slowly brushed his fingers over his collarbone.
Right where the Brand was engraved.
---
An underground space permeated with a damp, gloomy air.
The Masked Man sat quietly on a chair, simply gazing at the back of someone standing in the middle of the room, absorbed in their work.
“□□□□□…….”
That person, wrapped in a worn ragged garment, slowly swung the Wand in their hand while chanting an incomprehensible spell.
Each time the Wand moved, strange beams of light flowed out, drawing intricate patterns in midair.
“I would appreciate it if you could hurry as much as possible.”
“…….”
Despite the urging, the person said nothing.
The man spoke again.
“If the work keeps getting delayed, I have no idea how angry Arpentia might become.”
As he said that, he gently traced a finger over the fine crack in his Mask.
Muttering that he had forgotten how irritable one became upon waking, he suddenly clapped his hands.
“That is enough. Let us stop the work for a moment.”
At the Masked Man’s low words, the rag-clad person immediately stopped chanting and lowered the Wand.
The beams of light that had filled the room vanished in an instant.
“Good work. Please take a short rest.”
“…….”
Saying so, the Masked Man rose from his seat.
He approached the rag-clad person and gently received the Wand from their hand.
“……It is sudden, but an unexpected guest has arrived. Fortunately, I had the foresight to procure some decent tea.”
Murmuring that, the Masked Man turned his steps toward the tea set arranged to one side.
Behind him, as if seeping out from the shadows, someone silently revealed their presence.
“Truly vile taste.”
A low mutter.
The voice carried undisguised contempt and disgust.
Its owner crossed her arms, swept her gaze around the room, and clicked her tongue softly.
“Everyone I knew was foul-minded in their own way, but it has been a long time since I have seen someone with a taste this wretched, enough to rival them.”
At her words, the Masked Man let out a small chuckle and turned his head.
“To hear stories of my parents spoken of in such a way is truly moving beyond measure.”
“Parents?”
The owner of the voice asked back, as if incredulous.
“What nonsense are you spouting? Those people had no children.”
“One need not give birth directly for someone to be called a child. One who is born in the heart and inherits their will and beliefs can also rightfully be called a child, can they not?”
The man said as he set down the tea set.
“Like you, I too am gathering the fragments of those people, the Eight Demon Lords. Moreover, it would not be an exaggeration to say that I was reborn anew because of their traces. As such, I believe it is only proper that I regard them as my parents.”
The Masked Man answered calmly, without the slightest hesitation.
Then he gestured toward the rag-clad person who had been chanting with the Wand just moments ago.
“And that person is my life’s work, and also the one who will become my greatest masterpiece. I would appreciate it if you did not speak so harshly, calling it disgusting or vile taste.”
He spoke while pouring tea into the teacups.
“Now, please take the seat of honor. And though it is late, allow me to formally introduce myself.”
The Masked Man bowed deeply with impeccable courtesy toward the uninvited guest.
“O sole surviving Eight Demon Lord of this era.”
The owner of the voice standing opposite him—
the Masked Woman wearing a fox mask merely looked at him with indifferent eyes.