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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Lord Fourth
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“Did you hear the news, Geldmere?”
Geldmere, the One-Eyed Knight, stopped polishing his sword and looked up at the sound of the voice.
A pale man stood behind the bloodstained door of his cell. Geldmere sheathed his sword and spoke.
“Idmien? It’s a rare sight to see you outside your basement.”
“It’s a lab, not a basement.”
“Same difference to me.”
The Demon King’s army was a loose organization of outlaws drawn to the Demon King’s power.
The soldiers, and even the commanders, didn’t know each other’s true intentions, nor did they care to find out.
So, it was unusual for Idmien, a chimera mage and commander in the Demon King’s army, to seek out Geldmere. Idmien chuckled and waved his hand dismissively, and Geldmere spoke,
“So, Idmien, what news do you bring?”
“The Saintess has left the Holy City.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
“She’s left again. And this time, it wasn’t of her own free will.”
“Not of her own free will?”
Geldmere narrowed his one good eye. Idmien chuckled.
“The Saintess… has run away.”
“Run away? Where would she go?”
“Who knows? It could be someone’s scheme. The official announcement is desertion, but I’ve heard rumors of a kidnapping.”
“Kidnapping? Who would be foolish enough to kidnap the Saintess of the Holy City?”
Even the commanders of the Demon King’s army wouldn’t dare attack the Holy City. The knights there were more powerful and fanatical than most armies on the continent.
The evil god favored the Demon King, and the Heavenly God opposed him. In a way, the Holy City was the polar opposite of the Demon King’s castle.
“I heard her escort knight kidnapped her.”
“Her escort knight?”
“A name you know. A name I know. A name we all might know.”
Idmien said slyly, and Geldmere tapped his scabbard, urging him to get to the point.
“Elliot. Remember him?”
“How could I forget?”
It had been years. The leader of those pests who had been causing trouble in the northern lands, where the Demon King’s castle was located.
The Black Eagle Mercenary Group, was it? Normally, Geldmere wouldn’t have paid them any attention. They were insignificant. But that particular mercenary group was different.
They had inflicted significant casualties on the Demon King’s army.
Elliot, the slave swordsman. The demons had all complained about him. Geldmere had personally gone to eliminate him, but the battle ended in a draw. He had even lost his prized helmet in the process.
Elliot was the first human he hadn’t been able to completely defeat. Geldmere had felt a pang of regret.
If Elliot had been marked and joined the Demon King’s army, he could have become one of the strongest swordsmen, alongside Geldmere. He had memorized the name, hoping to cross blades with him again someday.
“That man… became a paladin?”
“Why? Is that useless competitive spirit of yours flaring up again? I thought you had abandoned your chivalry long ago.”
“Shut up.”
Geldmere’s killing intent made Idmien take a step back and change the subject.
“Anyway, I’m going to track down the Saintess. Any objections?”
“Since when were we close enough to discuss such matters?”
“Haha. Just letting you know. I’m going to kill that knight, Elliot.”
Idmien leaned against the doorframe and chuckled. He grimaced.
“He ruined my toy. The precious pawn I sent to Nua Dhil.”
“Was that the work of that slave swordsman as well?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
Idmien had sent more than five dark mages, or rather, transmigrators, to the continent.
Among them, Jake, the dark mage, was a toy he had meticulously crafted. And Elliot had destroyed it, shattering it beyond repair, disrupting his plans to destabilize the Great Forest. And Idmien, like most mages, held grudges.
“I believe in returning the favor… twofold.”
“Hmph. How pathetic, concerning yourself with a mere outsider.”
“Those are souls summoned by the Demon King himself. Choose your words carefully.”
Geldmere scoffed and nudged a nearby corpse with his foot.
“How utterly pathetic.”
Weak, fragile souls from another world. Why bother marking them and making them his subordinates when he could just extract their information? Geldmere, a warrior who lived by the sword, couldn’t understand the Demon King’s decision.
—
“We should leave soon.”
“Why?”
I said to Ophelia during breakfast. It had been almost a week since we arrived at the mage tower.
The Holy City had remained silent until this morning, when they finally released an official statement. I placed the newspaper, a weekly publication from the Empire, on the table.
“Ugh.”
The front page was about Ophelia. She frowned at the large portrait of herself.
“We need to get as far away from the Holy City as possible. They haven’t sent anyone after us yet, but they could at any time.”
“That’s because you incapacitated all of them.”
“I didn’t kill them.”
I had only broken their legs, out of some misplaced sense of camaraderie. But each Holy Knight was a valuable asset to the Holy City.
Attacking five of them would surely incur the Pope’s wrath. It was best to avoid returning to the Holy City for now.
Ophelia was visibly anxious at the start.
She flinched at every shadow.
But after a week, she seemed to have adjusted to life at the mage tower. So, she wasn’t happy about leaving.
“Don’t make that face. We have no choice.”
“Hmph.”
“You’re pouting.”
“…I’m just saying, there’s no need to rush.”
“Hmm.”
I sensed Elderian eavesdropping on our conversation from the kitchen. Honestly, I felt guilty seeing him age rapidly from the stress.
The mage tower was harboring the Saintess, a fugitive from the Holy City. If that were to be discovered, the mage tower, Elderian, and Emily would suffer greatly.
Elderian had been sighing constantly for the past week.
Ophelia, following my gaze, finally relented.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m not sure. West or south, perhaps. Maybe the Great Forest.”
“I hate that place. It reeks of elves.”
“What does ‘elf stench’ even smell like?”
“It’s a thing. That annoying smell unique to elves.”
She seemed serious, so I sighed.
The Great Forest was out of the question.
Ophelia’s foul mouth would surely cause trouble there. I could already imagine the proud elves’ reaction to her insults. Titania, in particular, would probably attack her on sight.
“Let’s… work on your disguise first.”
“Disguise?”
“Your face is too recognizable.”
“Why is it recognizable?”
She asked innocently, but a mischievous smile played on her lips.
“Is it because I’m so beautiful? You’re a man after all, aren’t you?”
It was easier to play along.
“Yes. You’re so beautiful that it’s a problem. Wherever we go, people will only be looking at your pretty face.”
“….”
“Why are you silent again?”
“…N-nothing.”
Ophelia suddenly tried to bury her face in her soup, and I frowned.
“How about wearing a mask?”
“…A mask?”
“Like those silver masks worn by lepers.”
“You bastard, are you calling me ugly?”
“It’s just a disguise.”
I thought for a moment.
From my experience traveling the continent after leaving the mercenary group, I knew the least suspicious cover story was that of a wealthy couple on vacation.
“Well, the easiest excuse would be that we’re a wealthy couple traveling together.”
“Th-that’s not going to work.”
“Why not?”
“It’s just… not going to work.”
Ophelia averted her gaze, her face flushed. Perhaps the soup was too hot.
“Hmm…”
“How about father and daughter?”
“….”
Judging by her expression, she was serious.
I calculated my age. My age on Earth, plus the eight years I had lived as Elliot in this world.
I had just graduated from college on Earth. So…
‘I’m thirty-three?’
Mid-thirties. The thought made me feel old.
Ophelia had just come of age last year. So, there was a twelve-year age gap between us. Twelve years.
Twelve years…
“….”
Calling me “mister” wouldn’t be strange, but appearances were important. Physical age, not mental age, was what mattered in this situation. And Elliot’s face looked relatively young.
So, I was young.
I had to be young.
I refused to be a father in my thirties.
I gritted my teeth.
“That’s… not going to work…”
“…Why are you getting upset? It was just a suggestion.”
“I’m not upset.”
“You sound upset.”
Ophelia hesitated for a moment, then smirked.
“Aha. Don’t tell me…”
“Ophelia.”
“….”
“….”
She finally closed her mouth when I glared at her.
Silence.
“Let’s just go with… siblings.”
“O-okay. Let’s do that.”
With that decided, I stood up.
“Get ready. We’re leaving.”
This time, Ophelia didn’t argue. Our only luggage was a jewelry box I had… acquired, legally or otherwise, before leaving the Holy City.
It was worth enough to buy a mansion. As we were preparing to leave, Elderian approached us.
“Are you leaving?”
“We can’t impose on your hospitality any longer.”
“Emily will be sad.”
“Ugh.”
Ophelia averted her gaze.
Emily Vallière, the Archmage’s apprentice, had been delighted to hear that we were staying at the mage tower.
She was still shy, but she seemed happy to see Ophelia again. And on my advice, Ophelia had been wearing the cheap brooch Emily had given her.
Emily had been overjoyed. Thanks to that, their relationship seemed to be going well. It was a good sign. They were both powerful characters in the game, essential members of the Demon King subjugation team.
“Aren’t you going to say goodbye to Emily?”
“I-I will… eventually…”
Ophelia trailed off. I was about to tease her some more when a servant rushed into the room.
“Archmage!”
“What is it?”
“We have a visitor.”
“A visitor?”
The mage tower had plenty of visitors. But the servant’s serious expression suggested this was no ordinary visitor.
“Who is it?”
“It’s… a Holy Inquisitor from the Holy City.”
“….”
Elderian’s face turned pale, and he looked at Ophelia.
“He wouldn’t take no for an answer… He’s currently in the reception room.”
“….”
There was only one Inquisitor in the Holy City who would barge in like that. Ured. He had followed us.
“Ugh.”
Ophelia hiccuped.
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Hi Lord Fourth here!
I’m still new to translating as this is my second novel to pick up, so if you find some mistakes or inconsistencies let me know about it on the dedicated channel on discord.
