The 9th Class Swordmaster: Blade of Truth

Chapter 153: Moving Pieces

BOOM—!!!

"What the hell are you doing?!?"

Ignoring Viscount Harun's outcry, Martte slammed open the door to Kromen’s room, nearly tearing it off its hinges.

The commotion in the hallway subsided for a moment.

Inside the room, Olivurn, who was having tea with Kromen on the sofa, looked at Martte with a puzzled expression.

"What brings you here, Martte? I don't recall summoning you. Has something happened?"

Olivurn's calm demeanor left Martte speechless. He merely stared at the two with a dumbfounded expression.

"How dare you...! You insolent...!" Viscount Harun growled, pressing down on Martte’s shoulder from behind.

Thud...!

Unable to withstand Harun's strength, Martte fell to the floor. Even so, he couldn't take his eyes off Kromen.

What have I done...?

A wave of regret washed over him. For a brief moment, he felt terrible for the uproar he had caused and for having suspected Olivurn. But at the same time, he was relieved that Kromen was alive.

"Enough. Harun, help Martte up. What is this commotion among allies?"

"But..."

"Ugh...!!"

Harun, looking displeased, glared at Martte and tightened his grip on his shoulder.

"Normally, intruding on the royal quarters recklessly would result in punishment, but he is, after all, Kuwell MacGovern’s son.”

Olivurn set down the teacup he had been about to drink from. Kromen kept sipping on his drink, although clearly shaken by the sudden commotion.

"There must be a valid reason for such impudence. Isn't that right?"

Olivurn walked toward the fallen Martte.

"Let him go, Harun."

"...Yes, sir."

At Olivurn’s command, Harun finally

Only after Olivurn's command did Harun release his grip on Martte's shoulder. He had left a mark on the boy’s shoulder. As a senior Sword Expert, Harun could’ve completely crushed Martte’s shoulder if he had used any more strength.

"As you know, we are on Marquis Vestal’s property. Many eyes are watching, and everyone is being cautious. Yet, here you are, causing a disturbance in the middle of the night..."

Olivurn looked at Martte. Though he was smiling, there was something eerie about him.

"You can explain yourself, can't you?"

"Well..."

With a tense face, Martte's lips quivered.

"I felt a strange presence... Please forgive my rudeness, Your Highness."

"Haha, no problem. If there were a strange presence here, Sir Harun would have noticed first. I appreciate your concern, but there's no need to worry so much."

Olivurn picked up his teacup from the table.

"It seems you've been quite nervous on your first expedition. You've probably worn yourself out while guarding me. Isn’t that right?"

"...I'm sorry."

Olivurn lightly patted Martte on the shoulder as if to express his understanding, and then handed him a teacup.

"Would you like some tea? It's quite good."

The tea in the cup was clear, and oddly, it had no scent at all.

"..."

A fleeting sense of unease washed over Martte as he stared at the tea offered by Olivurn. Instead of accepting it, he knelt and shouted, "N-No, thank you! I'm sorry to have disturbed you! I’m grateful for your forgiveness. I'll take my leave now, Your Highness."

"Oh, is that so?"

***

"Martte actually went to see Olivurn just as you predicted," Gordon remarked in a low voice.

As he focused his mana, a golden light gleamed in his eyes, creating a circular mark around his irises. Despite being several kilometers away, he could clearly see into the building, as though looking through a telescope.

The scene seemed to zoom in, to the point where he could even discern Olivurn’s expression.

"..."

This technique, known as Infinity Circle, surpassed even the auxiliary magic spell Eagle Eye in terms of vision enhancement. Only those who had perfected their bodies, like Sword Masters, could use this technique. Watching the scene unfold, Gordon finally closed his eyes and sighed softly.

"Eh, you won’t catch Olivurn red-handed that easily. He wouldn’t be so careless as to try to kill Kromen here, out in the open. He’d be careful to cover his tracks and fabricate evidence to prove his innocence."

Moreover, while Martte was a competent swordsman among his peers, he never would have been able to break through that door on Viscount Harun’s watch.

It's all for show.

To demonstrate that both of them were safe. To show that Kromen's death had nothing to do with him.

"That vile creature. Martte will have a tough time because of this. Who would have thought that the big fish wasn't the prince but that guy instead?"

Karyl smirked faintly.

"It had to be Martte."

If Olivurn had intended to kill Kromen here, Karyl wouldn't have chosen Martte as the witness. Even if Tiren was ruled out because, as a sorcerer, he could have detected his transformation magic, Karyl could have brought in someone influential like Harun or Jervangh.

That’s why I chose Martte out of all people.

Karyl knew him well. The eldest, who had died in Maron Canyon with his heart pierced by demons, was one of the brothers Karyl had observed the longest, along with Tiren.

"Martte would have noticed."

As the eldest son of the great Kuwell MacGovern, Martte showed many signs of aristocracy, but he also hated losing and was highly observant of those around him. Elliott, who was not particularly meticulous, or other loyalists who trusted Olivurn completely, wouldn’t have been as keen as him.

Martte has a lot of suspicions.

Moreover, his mother, Isabelle Aesir, had rigorously taught her sons noble etiquette, from handling tableware to drinking tea. Although they were now just a minor family, she had a strong sense of pride as a descendant of the Grand Sorcerer Kaye Aesir, a founder of the old empire.

She had made sure that her children would not make mistakes that other nobles could gossip about.

Martte had certainly picked up on it.

You would surely notice. There's no such thing as tea without any aroma.

If there were anything without a scent, it would be water. But princes drinking plain boiled water? Nonsense.

Poor Kromen. The boy is so overwhelmed that he can’t even taste anything. He’ll just drink whatever his brother gives him, trusting him blindly.

If it wasn’t water, it could only be one thing—the colorless and odorless poison Olivurn had given Kromen in their previous life: Twilight.

"Does such a poison really exist? Honestly, I still find it hard to believe that Olivurn would poison Kromen."

"You'll find out soon enough."

Karyl's memory of Kromen's death was still vivid. The emperor had ordered all nobles to attend a grand state funeral, and for three months, banned alcohol and music to mourn his death.

Titan Shutean never imagined he would die from the same poison.

Although there had been no such expedition in their previous lives, the timing of Kromen’s death wouldn’t change significantly from the last time.

It’s the perfect moment. In this situation, Olivurn wouldn’t miss the opportunity to pin Kromen’s death on Digon.

"If my prediction is correct, we’ll hear the news of Kromen’s death once they reach the capital. From Olivurn’s perspective, it’s the perfect assassination.”

"Hmm..."

"When it happens, Martte will surely become suspicious."

Karyl's eyes gleamed.

"And you'll use him to uncover Kromen’s death. But why complicate things so much? I could unmask him myself if you want."

To Gordon’s words, Karyl shook his head.

"That's not possible. If it were just about targeting Olivurn, maybe. Everyone needs to be on stage for the grand finale I’ve prepared.”

At that moment, Karyl's eyes sparkled.

Not just Olivurn. To bring down the emperor and Luon together... Kromen's death is necessary.

"This is the end. The conclusion will take place in the capital."

A chill ran down Gordon’s spine. At that moment, he understood—Karyl hadn’t orchestrated all of this to reveal the truth out of a sense of justice, but to position himself on that stage.

How far is he planning to go? Is the stage he’s setting meant to devour the empire?

“Do you regret it?” Karyl asked Gordon Fabian, seeking confirmation. After all, it was Gordon who had brought Kromen to the south. He would also bear responsibility for his death.

“No. That boy never would’ve ascended the throne. He was destined to die eventually.” Gordon shook his head. “At least this way, his death will have some meaning.”

“Hmm...”

Karyl squinted his eyes slightly as he spoke, “If you want to stop it, you can still do so now. There’s Elixir on the airship. It can neutralize the poison Kromen ingested.”

Gordon snorted, almost laughing at Karyl’s remark.

“Haha, how do you know about that? Even the Emperor doesn’t know.”

The Elixir, also known as the Panacea, was an elven artifact from the Magical Era, believed to no longer exist. However, one such piece had remained, and it was on the airship of the Guidance Mercenary Gang, out of all places.

Gordon had no idea how Karyl had found out about the Elixir. But in truth, it was rather simple—Karyl remembered Gordon having it in his past life. He didn’t even use it for his incurable disease, but passed it on to my father.

Karyl didn’t understand the relationship between the two men. Was it a friendship forged by mutual respect as strong men, or was there something else to their connection that he was unaware of?

Thinking back, Kuwell was a peculiar man. Even when he mentioned my biological father, he didn’t speak of him as an enemy, but almost as if he was a friend.

In his previous life, Karyl had been too blinded by his hatred for Kuwell to see the nuances. Now, having been reborn, he recalled the stories Kuwell had told him about Karliak.

The day Kuwell had given him Agnel, he hadn’t referred to it as a spoil of war taken from Karliak, the chief of the Black-Eyed tribe, but as a relic Karliak had entrusted to him.

Kuwell was many things, but he was not a liar.

“Your father left it to me.”

Karliak had left the relic to Kuwell MacGovern, not to his own son, the last survivor of the Black Eyed tribe.

An immigrant trusting an imperial—a most peculiar relationship.

Why did Father take me in as his adoptive son, even defying the emperor’s orders?

Kuwell MacGovern was an enigma. Even Gordon Fabian, the leader of the Guidance Mercenary Gang, had given his one Elixir to Kuwell instead of using it for his own affliction.

Did the immigrants trust my father? But he led the Northern Campaign that carried out the Extermination Decree of Heresy Against them.

There had to be some reason for his contradictory actions.

Karyl sighed softly. Unlike in his previous life, where he relied solely on his sword to assert himself, he now understood well the complexities of politics and schemes, realizing that the flow of the world was never simple.

What did my father truly want to achieve?

“...”

But even so...

Karyl found himself clenching his fists as he stared at a distant building.

He was killed by that bastard.

He turned his head.

Kromen, though I can’t save you, I will at least expose the truth of your death in this life. It’s the least I can do for you.

Karyl remembered the countless deaths, the people he hadn’t been able to save. He had witnessed death and delivered it more times than he could remember, and yet he could never get used to it.

“Here.”

Karyl handed over a note.

“What is it?” asked Gordon.

“You know what this is. In our last deal, we’ve agreed that you’d get the location of your cure once this was over.”

Gordon unfolded the note, read it, and then looked at Karyl with a cynical expression.

“It’s here?”

“Yes.”

"So you're telling me to go there now?"

"That's right."

"...Are you kidding me?"

At his reaction, Karyl gave a rather strange smile, as if he fully understood Gordon’s reaction.

The map on the note pointed to a place known as the Ghost Castle, a land beyond the Wall, considered untouchable even in the Magical Era.

“Great, I’ll go there to save my life only to end up dead...” Gordon grumbled as he tore the note into pieces, letting the wind carry them away.

“Don’t be too upset.”

Karyl lightly patted Gordon on the shoulder.

“I’m coming with you.”

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