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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Lord Fourth
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Ophelia fought various monsters besides sand goblins.
She screamed and swung her sword wildly at sandworms, and severed the tails of giant scorpions.
There was even an ogre, whose hamstring I cut, and Ophelia skillfully butchered it.
Even Lyla, who had been ready to intervene at any moment, eventually relaxed and simply watched.
Slash.
More sand goblins appeared. Seven of them this time, but Ophelia dispatched them with ease. She only suffered minor scratches, which she healed with divine magic.
“….”
She was starting to resemble the Cockroach Battle Saintess build from the game.
“She fights well. On par with a rank six adventurer.”
“Indeed.”
Lyla said, impressed, and I nodded.
Ophelia, though unaware of it, had become quite skilled after two years of being beaten by me. Just two years.
Two years to reach this level. It was an absurd rate of progress. Seeing the aptitude system manifest in reality made me realize how unfair this world was.
“Tsk.”
Some people struggled their entire lives to reach this level, while Ophelia, who had only swung a wooden sword, was already as skilled as a squire.
Despite her terrible personality, I had to admit that she was an important character in this game world.
“A true genius.”
“Look who’s talking.”
Lyla glared at me.
“Thank you. You saved our lives.”
Two days later, we arrived at our destination. The leader of the merchant caravan thanked us profusely and handed Ophelia two silver coins.
“Huh? Me?”
“Yes. Thank you so much. I hope to see you again, beautiful adventurer.”
Ophelia looked at the two silver coins in her hand with a puzzled expression.
The original payment for the commission was one silver coin. The extra coin was a bonus. I placed my hand on her small shoulder.
“You earned this. You should keep it.”
“O-oh.”
Ophelia nodded dumbly and pocketed the coins. Her cheeks were slightly flushed. She seemed pleased.
I ignored her and surveyed the village. We had arrived at a village outside Lavre Castle. Built around a small spring, it was a small, almost dilapidated settlement. Unlike the relatively dense area within the castle walls, the outskirts were a barren wasteland with scattered buildings.
Well, it was to be expected in such a desolate place.
“The village seems… uneasy.”
Lyla frowned, lifting her axe. The atmosphere was tense, filled with not just caution, but fear. It was understandable, considering the lord of the territory had joined the Demon King’s army.
“What’s your plan? Are you going to attack him?”
“Walking through the front gate would be suicide. Let’s gather some information first.”
Information on Azar de Albrecht was limited.
The lord of Lavre. He had suddenly closed the castle gates and gone into seclusion, then allowed demons into his castle.
He had detained the investigators sent by Auriga and declared his allegiance to the Demon King. There wasn’t much to go on.
“Lyla, what kind of person is Azar?”
“I only knew him as the lord of a small castle. I didn’t even know he was a Mark bearer until you told me.”
In this world, Azar, the Golden Lion, was a relatively unknown figure. Even the fact that he possessed a Mark wasn’t common knowledge.
“I’ll scout the village. Ophelia, stay here.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t cause any trouble. Don’t pick fights. And don’t do anything that might provoke a fight.”
“I know, you bastard.”
Ophelia looked like she was about to yell at me, so I quickly walked away. I crossed the village and examined the road leading to the castle.
It was a well-maintained road, but there were no signs of recent traffic. It was covered in sand.
“You can’t go there.”
A young voice called to me.
I turned around. A little girl, wearing a turban, was looking at me, chewing on jerky.
“I can’t?”
“No.”
“Who says so?”
“My dad.”
“Does your dad live here?”
“Yes. He said there are monsters down that road. So, no one from the village can go there.”
The girl yawned and sat down on a low wall, swinging her legs.
“So, you can’t meet the lord… the owner of that castle?”
“My dad can. He’s the only one in the village who can. Isn’t he amazing?”
The girl puffed out her chest proudly. Her cuteness made me smile.
“He is amazing. What does your dad do?”
“He’s a herbalist.”
“Does he go to the castle to sell herbs?”
“Yes. He said the lord is buying a lot of herbs.”
A herbalist. So, Azar was buying almost all the herbs gathered in the territory.
I frowned.
Herbs were used to make potions. They could be considered military supplies. It was strange that he was allowing only the herbalist into the castle while refusing all other visitors.
“Is your dad at the castle now?”
“Yes.”
I gave the girl a few candies and turned to leave.
Lyla was near the blacksmith, sharpening her axe, and Ophelia…
“…Huh.”
…was looking at a cheap pornographic magazine with wide eyes. I considered scolding her, but decided against it.
She was at that age. Such obscene materials were probably banned in the Holy City. This was probably her first time seeing something like this.
“….”
I leaned against a wall in the plaza, looking up at the towering castle.
Azar, who had suddenly become a commander in the Demon King’s army.
The closed castle gates.
Herbs.
I pondered the keywords.
“…Azar de Albrecht.”
I recalled Azar’s appearance in the game. Before you talked to him and discovered his identity, he was labeled as “a broken warrior.”
Your first encounter with him was at a grave near Lavre. He would refuse any attempts to recruit him. He would say…
‘A warrior who couldn’t even protect his loved ones… how can I hope to defeat the Demon King?’
Except for characters like Ophelia, who joined the party automatically during the main quest, almost every named character had a recruitment quest.
Azar’s quest involved retrieving an item from his castle.
A small hairpin.
After receiving it, Azar would place the hairpin on the grave and join your party. His recruitment line was…
‘Aria… I’ll try to forget you. That’s what… you would have wanted.’
“Ah.”
I finally understood. Azar, in the game, had a deceased wife. And that wasn’t information only I possessed.
The dozens of transmigrators in the Demon King’s army… they would know about it as well.
—
“How are things progressing?”
Azar de Albrecht visited the lab in the castle’s basement after finishing his inspection.
Richard was brewing a potion.
“Smoothly. Though I need a bit more miasma.”
“I see.”
Azar crossed the lab and opened the double doors.
“….”
It was a bedroom.
Azar’s expression hardened as he looked at the frail woman lying in bed.
Black threads connected to her body. Dark magic, which Azar despised. But it was his only option.
“Such devotion. A true romantic.”
Richard said, adjusting the potion.
“….”
He had already passed the point of questioning his actions.
He had drawn his sword; he had to cut something. Even if it was himself.
“If this fails,” Azar said, glaring at Richard,
“you will pay with your life.”
“Of course, milord.”
Richard simply smiled slyly. Azar suppressed the urge to cut his throat and placed his hand on the woman’s forehead.
Aria. Her skin was cold, almost like a corpse. But she was still alive.
That was all that mattered. That alone was enough for Azar to betray the world. He gently stroked her hair, his fingers brushing against the worn hairpin he had given her. Just then, someone rushed in.
“Milord!”
It was one of his retainers. Azar turned around, annoyed.
“What is it? I told you not to disturb me in the basement.”
“I apologize, milord, but…”
The retainer hesitated.
“Get to the point.”
“We have visitors.”
“Visitors?”
“Yes. They claim to be… wandering priests.”
“….”
Priests.
Azar’s eyes narrowed.
Clink.
Richard abruptly set down the potion bottle.
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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.
Elliot scheming