Chapter 146

CHAPTER 146. Have You Ever Heard of Guilt by Association?

The So-geomjeon, where the Young Lord stayed.

Sion paced back and forth in the waiting area, his movements tense and restless.

How much time had trickled away like that?

“Young Lord, the Tower Master has arriv—”

“Is he here?”

Sion threw the door wide and hurried to greet Aster.

“Sit down, first. There is so much I need to ask, but… before anything else, I must apologize. I am truly, deeply sorry.”

Unlike the vague, indirect apology from before, this was a blunt, genuine expression of regret.

The young master of Rortel bowed his head.

And yet, for some reason, Aster remained silent—offering no reaction whatsoever.

Sion raised his gaze slightly to read Aster’s face, then spoke with caution.

“Are you… doing alright?”

“…Alright?”

“You look terrible. Is your internal damage that severe? Hey! Is anyone out there? Bring a tonic suited for internal trauma immediately!”

At Sion’s command, the servant standing guard responded instantly. It wasn’t long before a bottle was placed into the Young Lord’s grip.

“Here is a potion. Unlike standard pills for internal injuries, this should prove incredibly effective even without the aid of specialized breathing techniques.”

It was a premium, high-value remedy, far superior to the tonic Kalahen had provided previously.

Aster took the vial without a word and downed it in heavy swallows.

His poor appearance wasn’t due solely to internal pain, though that was certainly present—it was a freebie, so to speak.

Once Aster finished the expensive medicine, Sion prompted him.

“Seeing that you managed to return in one piece, I assume things concluded favorably… yes?”

Aster gave a brief nod.

For the moment, just as the Young Lord had surmised, the situation itself had ended well.

‘I really thought I might lose my life there…’

Against all odds, the Rortel Head of House had agreed to every single one of our terms.

Not only did he grant the Infinite Chain, our primary goal, but when I took a gamble and offhandedly mentioned the “Sword God’s Tomb,” he had given his consent to that as well.

In any case.

“The Infinite Chain bearer mentioned he wants to have a word with you.”

“Mm…! That is a relief! Once again, I am sincerely sorry. Was anything else discussed? I can learn the details later, but… I must admit, I am curious.”

“About that…”

Aster briefly recapped the conversation he’d had with the Head of House regarding the Infinite Chain.

Everything, for now, would proceed precisely according to the deal he had struck with the Young Lord.

However—

One might call it a courtesy, perhaps… They had promised to dispatch the First Sword personally to Baidun Village to handle the termination of the trade agreement.

It might have simply been the logical next step from Rortel’s viewpoint, but for Aster, it was a gesture worth genuine gratitude.

Why?

‘Because Deculan will catch on to the fact that a wild card has surfaced in Rortel before long.’

I had made far too much of a scene.

In the dead of night, a massive streak of fire erupting into the sky from the center of Rortel was impossible to miss—no matter how much one might want to look away.

So even if not this very moment…

‘…It will be, at most, a day or two.’

Within that window, Deculan would uncover the truth.

And how would Deculan react then?

A variable had emerged within Rortel. They might not immediately deduce the cancellation of the contract, but it would be enough to force them into defensive maneuvers. Once they confirmed the cancellation…

Since they already held suspicions regarding Parun, they would likely seize control of the roads heading toward the Academy. Or perhaps they would launch some other unpredictable maneuver.

But—

‘If the First Sword takes action, Deculan cannot afford to divide their attention.’

They would likely devote the entirety of their intelligence network to monitoring the movements of the First Sword.

Unless Rortel had completely lost its senses, they wouldn’t send the First Sword to assault Deculan—but if such a thing ever did happen, Deculan would face catastrophic damage.

That was the strategic weight commanded by Rortel’s Ten Swords, and specifically, by their captain.

So.

“…It seems my father has extended quite the favor to you.”

One could see why Young Lord Sion reacted with such a vacant look.

Sir Zeke was a man ranked “third,” but Hamellan—the commander of the Ten Swords—existed on an entirely different level from the rest.

It was then that Sion voiced his uncertainty.

“But you… why do you look like that? Did something occur?”

Sion scrutinized Aster’s features and posed the question with care.

Considering how well the mission had ended, Aster’s demeanor seemed far from normal.

“Something… did occur…”

Aster offered a faint, strained smile.

“Because the Head of House gave me quite the gift.”

“…A gift?”

“Yeah. A massive one.”

It wasn’t irony.

What Muhad had bestowed upon Aster was, in every sense, a significant gift.

It was just that…

I heard you intend to oppose Deculan… a futile dream.

It was just impossibly bitter.

With a vessel that is collapsing, you cannot even manage a family—let alone defy Deculan.

A collapsing vessel.

That referred to…

‘Circle.’

It meant the imperfection within the core.

After the Shadow Knights had withdrawn.

“I heard you intend to oppose Deculan… a futile dream. With a vessel that is collapsing, you cannot even manage a family—let alone defy Deculan.”

Those were the opening words the Head of House had spat at me.

“What in the…”

“Do not bother asking how I perceived it. Sometimes a Demon Sword shows you things you would prefer to keep hidden.”

For an instant, I wondered if he had also discovered the existence of the Reverse-Heaven, but fortunately, that did not seem to be the case.

Regardless, he added this.

“This is not due to a Mind Demon or any backlash. The secret technique itself possesses a ceiling.”

The secret technique itself has a ceiling?

‘What kind of nonsense is that…’

It was a difficult pill to swallow.

And with good reason—what was the secret technique I had mastered?

I had taken the foundation of Deculan, the Thousand Origin Art, and layered it with the secret art of the Scarlet Flame. And there was a ceiling? That would imply—it was no different than stating Deculan’s own secret art was fundamentally limited.

But when I pondered it deeply…

‘It is not as if I acquired the Thousand Origin Art in its entirety.’

The Thousand Origin Art itself was complete.

I had simply opted for a different path during the forging of my core.

So what did this imply?

‘The Circle… is a flawed secret technique.’

Truly, it was difficult to accept.

Because—

In the Great Forest, I had attained Transcendence by perfecting the Circle.

If the Circle were a defective secret technique, I likely never would have managed to achieve Transcendence in the Great Forest to begin with.

But I couldn’t simply brush it off as useless drivel, either.

“For now, it will pose no trouble. But as the vessel expands, the fractures will widen. Whether you choose to believe me or not is your own concern.”

The Head of House, sitting rigidly upon the Iron Throne, looked like a man who could speak absolute insanity and still make it sound entirely logical.

That is why status is so significant.

‘Perhaps the reason others fail to trust my words is because my status is unremarkable.’

In any case.

At this juncture, even I could not ignore it.

So I pondered.

‘For now, the Circle in the Great Forest was perfect.’

Then where was the flaw?

It did not take long to uncover the answer.

‘The Circle I possess now… is distinct from the Circle I held in the Great Forest.’

Even the scale was different, to begin with.

If the Circle in the Great Forest was a thick, fully matured anaconda, then the current Circle was akin to a starving hatchling that hadn’t fed in weeks.

‘Initially, I assumed it was merely… a discrepancy in mana volume. But this was not something I could dismiss so easily.’

I could not yet identify every underlying cause, but a clear difference existed between the Circle from the Great Forest and the one I possessed today.

“Do you grasp it now? Why I mentioned I was disappointed.”

I nodded at the Head of House’s inquiry.

If I had been ignorant, it would be one thing—but now that I knew?

In his eyes, I must have appeared pathetic.

The Tower Master.

The leader of a faction mastering a secret technique with an obvious barrier—how laughable that must have seemed to the Head of House.

But at that moment, I grew inquisitive.

“Why?”

“Speak clearly.”

“I am asking why you are doing me this favor.”

“Why…”

Head of House Muhad regarded me with cold, detached eyes.

Was it just my imagination?

The corners of his lips quirked upward—as if he were mocking me. No, to be precise, it wasn’t just a “hunch.”

“Ridiculous.”

“…What is?”

“That effort of yours, struggling even while facing limits. That absurdity, sharpening your blade while fixed upon an enemy you cannot possibly reach. Do you realize this? The ‘Infinite Chain’ you are risking your neck to acquire is utterly meaningless to the main family.”

Which meant—

“I was curious.”

He wanted to witness it.

“When I informed you of your limitations, what sort of look you would wear.”

“What if I do not believe you?”

“That, too, would be worth seeing. What a spectacle it would be—to witness someone told the absolute truth and still refuse to turn back.”

Listening to him, I couldn’t help but think this.

Is this bastard really the Head of House of Rortel?

‘Was he not adopted from Deculan as a boy or something?’

A man who leads a knightly clan… certainly, the heads of “prestigious houses” are all molded from similar stock, but—to be this twisted?

I was so baffled I couldn’t even find the humor in it.

But the real display came after.

“So, how does it feel?”

“It is disappointing.”

Dammit—everything is “disappointing” with him.

Back when I was a trainee Troubleshooter, that was the instructor’s favorite phrase.

This instructor is disappointed in you all!

And now, I was hearing that same line from the Head of House of Rortel.

But the Head of House did not stop there.

“Still, in a sense, you are entertaining to observe. You consistently move outside the bounds of expectation.”

“That implies…”

“Your limit is absolute. And judging by you as you are now, the Mage Tower and the Sword Garden will be equally pathetic. Infinite Chain? This time you managed to shake off Deculan, but how long will that persist?”

So.

“I predict you will be crushed by Deculan and perish.”

No—not just that.

“If an incident like today occurs repeatedly, you won’t even make it as far as facing Deculan.”

What the Head of House claimed was—

“You are nothing more than an insect.”

Then why, after all that, did he pivot and extend this favor to me?

Well, his response remained the same as before.

“Move outside my predictions.”

In other words… he was waiting for it.

He was waiting for me to shatter his expectations.

To surpass the limit of the Circle, evade Deculan’s pursuit, expand the Mage Tower and the Sword Garden, and eventually stand against Deculan.

This sensation…

‘…This is a foul feeling I haven’t experienced in quite a long time.’

That was the reason my expression had curdled as if I’d bitten into something rotting.

The Circle aside—

Rortel’s Head of House had landed too many heavy blows to my solar plexus.

…Having reached that conclusion in my thoughts, I stared fixedly at the Young Lord before me.

“Have you ever heard of guilt by association?”

“Is that not when a crime is inherited?”

“If you know that, you will not feel aggrieved later.”

“…?”

I watched the Young Lord, who seemed completely bewildered.

But then—

‘If this man eventually becomes Head of House, will he turn out the same way?’

Tch. Then I had better eliminate him before that day comes.

“Whatever. Let’s discuss when you are handing over the Infinite Chain.”

Before the Young Lord could figure out where I was going with this, I swiftly switched topics.

The iron grand hall.

After hearing from the Head of House what had transpired with the Tower Master, Hamellan took a slow sip from his chalice.

“Hm, if this old man may dare to judge… it seems the Tower Master pleased you quite a bit?”

“I merely felt pity for him.”

Even in situations he could not control, he did not flee—he charged forward. That recklessness could only result in him shattering, crumbling, and being torn apart.

It was then that Hamellan shook his head.

“I do not believe that is the entire truth.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. Even so, was I not your mentor? I believe there is another motivation you have not voiced.”

“Indeed, the eyes of the First Sword cannot be deceived.”

Muhad took another sip, the edges of his mouth curling upward.

Ever since he had ascended to Head of House, he had found little cause for laughter—but today, for some reason, he felt uncharacteristically free with his smiles.

It was then that Hamellan inquired,

“May I ask what that other reason might be?”

“A reason…”

Muhad sank briefly into contemplation.

He remembered a mage from a distant time, from deep within his memories.

That mage possessed nothing in common with the current Tower Master—nothing he could call similar—except for one solitary point.

“There was another who always acted outside of my predictions. Seeing the Tower Master brought him to mind.”

“‘He,’ you say…”

“Who else could it be?”

Muhad uttered the name he loathed beyond measure.

“Paharen von Deculan.”

“……”

Hamellan looked at Muhad with eyes that shimmered faintly.

‘The Tower Master… compared to Paharen?’

It was a moment that offered a glimpse into the depth of the Head of House’s hatred toward Paharen.