Traitor (4)

Inspiration: a sudden, ingenious idea or stimulation that becomes the catalyst for creative work.

“A good idea…? What is it?”

Raven asked uneasily, and I responded with a wide grin on my face.

Just as a philosopher once cried “Eureka!” After stepping into the bath, I too was struck by a sudden burst of inspiration.

Inspiration like this hits you suddenly, at the most unexpected moments.

Like right now.

[Turua, Piare, Boamine Jandel, Harpu.]

“District Eight, arson, suspect is Bjorn Jandel. Requesting support.”

The goal was simple. Draw aggro so that Amelia, currently in District 4, could escape more easily.

In a sense, drawing aggro was a specialty not only of Bjorn Jandel but of Hansu Lee as well. Any Korean man who had spent his teens and twenties gaming was bound to pick up that talent.

[Turua No, Tetkai, Jigernu, Remgark.]

“Sector 8-2, do not approach. Reinforcements en route.”

Besides, this wasn’t my first time doing something like this. Now that my physical stats were better, I didn’t have to work as hard, but back when I was so weak that a gentle breeze could knock me over, I had to use all of ‘Lee Han-soo’s’ knowledge to draw aggro.

Right, so…

“Vivian.”

I checked one last thing.

“Can we send something like that too, right?”

“Yes. But if we draw too much attention to ourselves, there’s a good chance my access will be revoked.”

So, it’s possible. I was a little worried it might not work, but the final obstacle in our path had disappeared.

“So… what do I send?” Vivian asked with genuine curiosity

“You’ll know when you hear it.”

“…Huh?”

“Translate what I’m about to say into the coded transmission. Not a single word off.”

“Ah! Just a moment!” Vivian fiddled with the mana crystal for a moment, then declared she was ready.

Which meant it was time to deliver my message to all the leaders of Noark.

“Ricardo Lühensprache.”

I spoke slowly.

“Mom.”

“…Huh?”

“Dead.”

It was time to return to my roots.

***

Bzzzt—!

Several transmissions flowed through the communication crystal at his waist, but the man let them go in one ear and out the other.

[District Eight, arson, suspect is Jandel. Requesting support.]

That bastard had appeared in District Eight and was causing havoc.

[Sector 8-2, do not approach. Reinforcements en route.]

The situation did seem serious.

But it wasn’t his concern.

He was in District Four, quite far from District Eight.

Unless they specifically requested his assistance, he had no intention of getting involved. He would let them handle it themselves.

Yes. That had been his plan.

[Ricardo Lühensprache.]

Until he heard a familiar female voice.

‘Liranne Vivian…?’

He recognized the voice instantly. After all, he was the one who had taken in that spiteful little girl and raised her until she earned the nickname ‘The Screaming Witch.’

‘For her to be calling me from District Eight…’

It sounded like a request for help.

‘Is she in mortal danger?’

Even if that were the case, he couldn’t go.

This was a war.
He had gathered them one by one to create ‘Orcules’ for this very day.

[M-Mama…]

…Even if the situation was desperate enough for her to cry out for her mother, nothing changed.

Step—!

There were more important things right now. It was best to ignore this request and—

[D-Dead…!!]

…?

“…”

His thoughts froze for a split second, and his feet stopped mid-step. However, assuming he had misheard or that she had slipped up, he began moving again.

But it didn’t take long for him to stop once more. The voice started coming through again.

[Ri—Ricardo Lühensprache! Your Mom’s dead!]

The transmission repeated, as if to confirm he hadn’t misheard.

He was genuinely confused by the sudden turn of events, unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Just what was going on?

The transmission continued.

[The Rose Knight Order…]

“……”

[Th-they killed her! That’s why your Mom’s dead!]

The content was so shocking it felt unreal, yet at the same time, his mind grew cold.

He wasn’t lacking in intuition.

‘…She’s acting under someone’s orders.’

Liranne Vivian wasn’t sending this of her own will. Most likely, she had been captured and was being forced to transmit this. But the real question was something else.

‘…Who is it?’

Who was sending this message, and why? And how did they know about the old grudge between him and the Rose Knights? It was a story very few people knew.

Click.

The man’s priorities shifted instantly.

Chasing Bjorn Jandel’s ally, a woman with an aura strikingly similar to that of the Rose Knights, was important.

But—

“Sir…?”

“I’ll leave the pursuit of Emily Raines to you.”

“Ah, yes…!”

He handed the chase to his subordinates and pulled out his crystal orb.

[Ricardo Lühensprache, first trait. Compared to the Corpse Collector… h-his is actually smaller!]

There was only one way to find out who was making Vivian spout such nonsense.

Speak to them directly.

[…Who are you?]

He activated the orb and asked quietly. But the response he got was pure ridicule.

[Ricardo Lühensprache Trait 2: Even when he talks like that, he’s not scary at all, but he acts all t-tough!]

The insults were now being hurled in plain Raphdonian, as if translating them into code had become too much trouble.

A familiar figure crossed his mind.

Dragon Slayer Regal Bagos.

Corpse Collector Abet Necrapheto.

The Evil Eye, Roland Banojant.

Everyone who had ever encountered that brute warned him to watch his words around him.

“Bjorn Jandel…”

If it was him, this behaviour would make sense. He was currently pursuing Jandel’s ally. If information had leaked internally and Jandel was doing this to draw his attention, the situation would fit perfectly.

But—

‘If that’s the case… how does he know about my history with the Rose Knight Order?’

Unable to find an answer, the man gripped the crystal again.

[Ricardo Lühensprache Trait 3. He’s trembling so badly he can’t even respond!]

Despite the continued mockery, the man did nothing. In fact, he felt calmer than ever. His body was shaking only because he had been running for the first time in a long while.

[…Where are you?]

He asked again.

This time, the answer came immediately.

It wasn’t Vivian’s voice.

[District Eight.]

Even though it was only his voice, its sheer presence was enough for the man to imagine the barbarian’s massive size.

[Come if you’ve got a problem with it]

The fact that it was a man, and that he was in District 8 where Jandel had been spotted…

‘My guess was right.’

Even so, it was absurd.

[Ricardo Lühensprache Trait 4: He only asks where I am because he’s too pussy to come.]

How could these be the words of a hero of the city, the leader of a race, and a man holding the title of Baron? He was far too frivolous and vulgar.

Which only made the intention clearer.

‘He wants to lure me out.’

So what should he do?

The answer came quickly.

[Ricardo Lühensprache, Trait 5: Dad’s gone too.]

He didn’t like falling for something so obvious—

[…Don’t expect a clean death.]

—but he’d indulge him once.

He was curious about how Bjorn had come to know that story.

[Ah, just like your parents?]

The moment he heard those words, the crystal orb shattered under the pressure of his grip.

“…Must’ve been defective.” the man muttered

He mapped out the fastest route to District Eight.

Yet for some reason, the words from earlier wouldn’t leave his ears.

No—the voice.

[District Eight. Come if you’ve got a problem with it]

He’d heard countless stories about Bjorn Jandel.

But this was the first time he’d spoken to him directly.

And yet—

‘Why does it feel… familiar?’

As if he’d heard this exact voice somewhere before.

Long ago.

So long ago he could barely remember.

‘When was it…?’

His steps quickened as he frowned, searching his memory.

Whatever this sense of unease was—

Tadak—

He would find out in person.

****

Have you ever hidden inside a wardrobe?

Sven Parab, the (former) Paladin of Rafdonia, had. Well, strictly speaking, it wasn’t ‘Sven Parab’ who had hidden in a wardrobe, but his original body, but regardless.

“…” “…”

When you enter a wardrobe, you have to hunch your body, you can’t straighten your neck, and the floor isn’t soft like a bed. But surprisingly, it’s comfortable inside. Or rather, your body is uncomfortable, but your mind is at ease? Because no one can find you there. That’s why he had always crawled into wardrobes since he was a child whenever he was scared.

‘I didn’t think I’d be back in one at this age.’

Because his body had grown so large, he had to cram himself in. And he wasn’t alone.

“I-I’m sorry… am I heavy?”

The pleasant scent coming from his roommate made the already cramped space feel even tighter, forcing him to arch his back further.

But there was no choice.

“A-Ah, no… I should be the one apologizing. Because of me…”

“…Don’t apologize. We’re both safe for now.”

Sven Parab felt immensely grateful for those words. He was the reason they were stuck in this narrow wardrobe. He had suffered a seizure at a crucial moment in the battle with their comrades and Lyris Marone had been left behind in an attempt to save him.

“Still… it’s strange. You recovered the moment we got in here.”

“H-Haha… Y-Yeah, it really is.”

Sven laughed awkwardly and changed the subject.

He felt both grateful and guilty—but there was a truth he could never reveal.

‘I can never tell her that I did it on purpose.’

He had exaggerated the seizure.

An act.

A way to naturally separate from the group.

‘What is it about this wardrobe…?’

He ran his hand along the inside wall.

No matter how he looked at it, it was just a simple wardrobe, something he had glimpsed through a broken second-floor window of an abandoned house.

But the moment he saw it during the chaos, he had been seized by a ‘hunch’ stronger than ever before.

‘I have to go there.’

That wardrobe is safe.

As long as I step inside that wardrobe, I will never die.

I have to go.

As if possessed by something, Sven Parab broke away from the group.

Because Lyris Marone was following him, he had to put on quite a performance, pretending to suffer a seizure. Even so, the wardrobe was worth going to such lengths for.

It was as if the wardrobe was the panacea.

Badump—!

The chronic anxiety that had dominated his entire body since the moment he returned to the city vanished instantly. Beyond that, he felt a profound certainty that even if the world collapsed, he would be safe as long as he stayed here.

‘…I’m sorry to my allies.’

In a way, this act could be seen as a betrayal of his allies. But Sven Parab, exhausted to the bone, couldn’t even bring himself to consider leaving the wardrobe.

As long as I stay inside this wardrobe, I’ll live…!

To Sven Parab, intuition was something that had to be obeyed.

Without fail.

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