Chapter 225

Chapter 225 – Not All Mages Are Bad. But…

Hormei… it turned out that the irritation causing trouble on someone else’s turf was far more cooperative than anticipated.

Well, perhaps cooperative isn’t the right word?

“Ugh, u-ugh…”

I observed the pathetic form squirming like a piece of garbage and paused to collect my thoughts.

‘Let’s break this down.’

As previously stated, this pathetic creature’s name was Hormei.

He once served as the second-in-command within the 2nd Black-White Slums, wielding leverage that almost matched the Godfather’s.

However, once his illicit dealings came to light, his faction was dismantled by the Godfather, resulting in his banishment…

‘A sponsor?’

The real issue was identifying that specific sponsor.

The name that surfaced was remarkably familiar to me.

And quite shocking, honestly.

‘…Goldrin.’

More specifically, it was Goldrin’s firstborn, Basilin.

Reflecting on that, my eyes involuntarily drifted toward the thugs collapsed behind Hormei.

‘Why wasn’t it Decullan?’

I had anticipated Decullan’s name to surface, especially with the Troubleshooters acting as their muscle.

Yet, no matter how severely I interrogated them, the name Decullan never emerged—only Goldrin. They didn’t appear to be fabricating a story.

Could it be that Basilin, or someone close to him, had aligned with Decullan?

That would make logical sense.

“Tch… It just doesn’t add up.”

The web was unraveling into something far more tangled than I initially assumed, prompting me to rub the back of my neck.

‘At the very least, their target wasn’t the auction.’

According to the information gathered, their designs on the 2nd Black-White Slums predated the auction… What on earth was their angle?

Regardless.

I brushed aside the lingering riddles that lacked immediate answers and made my way toward the exit of the alleyway.

“Ar-are you… finished?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

The person waiting for me as I stepped into the open was Collin, Timur’s primary subordinate.

In stark contrast to our initial encounter, his demeanor was remarkably respectful—undoubtedly due to a prior warning from Timur.

As a side note, I had made sure Evelin kept her distance before beginning the questioning.

Timur was a veteran who had witnessed the darkest corners of the world, but Evelin belonged to a different category entirely.

“Where is the Duke?”

“He returned to the sanctuary alongside the chief. Don’t fret about their safety—the combat team is currently protecting them.”

“Understood, that works.”

Recalling the state of the sanctuary’s defenses earlier, it wasn’t completely comforting, but it would suffice for the time being.

I understood that the combat team hadn’t been present the day I initially forced my way in, meaning they could likely hold their ground for a decent interval under normal circumstances.

“In that case, are you capable of managing the cleanup inside?”

“Understood, we can manage that, but… what are your orders regarding them?”

What to do with them.

I reviewed my options momentarily before delivering a brief command.

“Dispose of the main piece however you see fit. Keep the ones in robes alive for now—they possess magic, so exercise extreme caution.”

Just as I began to walk away after delivering those instructions.

Collin’s voice called out from behind me.

“Understood, it shall be done. However…”

“…?”

“The sanctuary lies in that direction. Where exactly are you heading?”

Ah, my destination?

Isn’t it completely obvious?

“It’s time to eradicate the issue at its source.”

“The source…”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll explain everything once I return. Just wait until then.”

Leaving Collin on his own, I resumed my stride.

I remained uncertain whether the true instigator of this mess was Goldrin, Decullan, or a combination of both.

Still…

‘If you trespass onto another person’s land, you must pay the price, correct?’

I had no inkling of how my future self, who eventually capitulated to Decullan, managed to survive.

Yet, it wasn’t difficult to surmise.

He likely remained in the shadows, waiting for the right moment while avoiding direct confrontation with Decullan until his own strength was consolidated.

Therefore, things needed to take a different path this time.

“Let’s check… If Troubleshooters are deployed, it points directly to one of the authorized magic corps.”

Sanctioned spellcasters.

‘I’m just not certain which specific magic corps it is.’

Would it have been wiser to squeeze information out of the Troubleshooters?

I dismissed the thought with a shake of my head.

Attempting to interrogate the Troubleshooters would have ultimately led to a dead end.

Furthermore…

‘Their origin is irrelevant.’

Leaving a severe message for Decullan would be sufficient, regardless of their branch.

A secluded alleyway situated within the 2nd Black-White Slums.

“Sniff, h-hic.”

A young street urchin was weeping while attempting to keep his hands up.

Fatigued? His guards were dropping, yet his expression radiated undeniable dread.

As if he were utterly terrified.

The young boy positioned across from him mirrored that exact state, both frightened children confronting one another in their injured conditions.

It presented a grotesque spectacle.

Typically, altercations between street children concluded the instant one party succumbed to fear.

This departed significantly from the norm, and right at that moment, spoken words reached them.

“What’s the delay? Get on with the fight.”

The source of the command was a pleasant-looking gentleman, and immediately, the two urchins threw themselves at one another.

“Uwaaaaaah!”

“Uwaa!”

They shrieked in apparent distress as they clashed.

Could this truly be classified as a combat?

It resembled a frantic struggle for life.

The duo tumbled across the dirt, trading blows—evoking pity rather than ferocity.

As though they were exerting themselves solely to remain alive.

The gentleman resting comfortably atop a wooden crate tossed a peanut into his mouth and gestured in approval.

“Precisely, just like that. Tsk, now the entertainment is picking up.”

He appeared to be passing the time to alleviate boredom, which accurately reflected his mental state.

The gentleman’s name was Newrus.

He belonged to Decullan’s Azure Ice Magic Corps, being one of the two dispatched under the leader’s directives to assist Hormei.

To be perfectly candid, this assignment wounded his dignity immensely.

The formal justification was “preserving amicable relations with Goldrin,” but in truth, he was merely acting as a guardian for Black-White Slums garbage.

‘If they would at least create a proper disturbance, it might be tolerable.’

Regrettably, his parameters were strictly to remain in reserve.

Consequently, he could not act rashly.

He detested this assignment, though the urchins of the Black-White Slums provided a minor diversion.

Observe them currently.

“D-die! Perish, you piece of trash!”

“Aaack!”

Paralyzed with fright one moment, only to be shouting homicidal threats the next…

‘In certain aspects, this surpasses watching hounds fight.’

Without a doubt, it was superior.

Maintaining fighting hounds required financial investment to rear a single beast, not to mention that repulsive animal odor… offensive. Conversely, street children were abundant.

One only had to seize a few and force them to clash.

‘And they aren’t nearly as foul-smelling.’

Even should one perish, the disposal required minimal effort.

Yet, why was this happening?

“Hmm.”

Newrus observed the struggle for a period, apathy returning to his expression.

“This is losing its appeal as well.”

Could it be due to witnessing the identical scenario for several weeks?

Amusement possessed a shelf life; he was becoming indifferent to the experience.

‘Hound fighting might actually hold more appeal in that regard.’

Not due to the combat itself… perhaps more due to the excitement of placing wagers and collecting earnings?

Initially, the human factor offered novelty, but currently, it felt inadequate.

“How to proceed…”

Newrus let his dark thoughts wander in search of novel amusement.

Right then, a voice intervened.

“Amusing yourself, are you?”

“…?”

An unsettling voice, making it impossible to determine gender or maturity.

Newrus scowled slightly and shifted around, discovering an unfamiliar figure standing there.

“Who allowed you here? …Hm?”

Disregarding Newrus’s inquiry, the unfamiliar figure advanced forward.

Newrus observed with indifferent eyes as the individual halted directly beside the struggling urchins.

Subsequently…

Crack!

A sharp, distinct noise resonated throughout the passageway.

The young youngsters, who had been projecting homicidal intent, collapsed instantly onto the earth.

“Hmm.”

Newrus lifted an eyebrow, assessing the intruder.

An uninvited visitor.

Yet the sentiment reflecting in his gaze wasn’t annoyance—it resembled curiosity.

“A practitioner of magic resides within the Black-White Slums?”

He had identified the magical energy employed to incapacitate the youngsters, and in that instant, the intruder’s attention locked onto Newrus.

“Had I realized you were amusing yourself like this, I ought to have dragged your companion along as well.”

“…?”

Newrus tilted his head to the side.

Companion? What exactly…

However, the intruder gave him no opportunity to resolve the thought.

“You are Newrus of the Azure Ice Magic Corps, correct?”

“Indeed… Ghk!”

Before Newrus could offer a complete response, his jaw forced itself shut. He possessed no alternative.

Zzzzzz—

An overwhelming pressure of mana saturated the surroundings.

No, it wasn’t merely pressure.

It was pure mana, swirling and churning violently around the stranger.

Sensing this terrifying development, alarm signals blared inside Newrus’s mind.

‘…Perilous.’

His instincts took over instantly.

He pushed off the ground to leap away.

However.

“…Guh!”

A monumental force slammed him downward into the earth. The sheer shock of impacting on his spine left him breathless.

Following that, a voice sounded right beside him.

“I refrained from ending your companion’s life. However…”

The stranger stared down at Newrus, who was twitching on the ground, before casting a glance toward the two unconscious children.

No, his focus wasn’t entirely on the youngsters.

It was the heavy aroma of blood saturating the passageway.

The stench of decay drifting out from behind the dilapidated doorway.

“This wasn’t limited to a mere few, was it?”

“…”

“You won’t escape retribution easily. Understood?”

An urge to destroy rarely manifested within Aster’s gaze.

In this precise moment, above all else, his thoughts were far from the moon.

Aster made his way back to Svetlana’s sanctuary roughly two hours after separating from Evelin.

“Sir… Aster?”

“You have… returned.”

Evelin and Timur prepared to offer words upon Aster’s arrival but promptly silenced themselves.

A deeply pulled hood over his robe.

A mask concealing his features.

Though no sentiment could be read, the pressure radiating from him felt heavily suppressed.

“Secure this individual for the time being. Furthermore, Chief Timur, oversee the cleanup operation at the location I designate. Dispatch a crew.”

Aster dropped a figure onto the floor like baggage and indicated a specific alleyway within the Black-White Slums.

The individual was, naturally, a member of the Azure Ice—the initial spellcaster Aster had overwhelmed, prior to confronting Newrus.

Evelin felt uncertain about speaking given Aster’s altered demeanor, but after providing guidance to Timur, Aster exited the chamber.

“We shall converse further in roughly an hour.”

Timur tilted his head sideways regarding the unilateral directions.

He found himself unable to fully comprehend the meaning behind Aster’s declarations.

Suddenly identifying a destination, requesting the retrieval of unconscious street children there, and arranging formal burials for the deceased youngsters hidden behind a ruined door…

Nonetheless, Timur raised no objections and summoned Collin to convey the directives.

Simultaneously, Evelin silently recorded the memory of Aster’s current state.

For some reason, it was unfamiliar…

‘Resentment?’

Though he displayed nothing openly, he was remarkably intense.

Thus, leaving the pair filled with uncertainties.

Aster relocated to an alternate sitting room within the sanctuary and immersed himself in contemplation.

• Dammit, what offense did I commit?! Merely amusing myself with some worthless alley rats and now this… Argh, ugh!

Not every practitioner of magic is malevolent.

By that same logic, not every spellcaster under Decullan mirrored Newrus.

However.

No person could dispute the reality that every child within the Black-White Slums was regarded as nothing more than pests.

‘The Magic Tower, the Magic Tower…’

Within Aster’s consciousness.

The outline of the tower was steadily taking shape.

The moment the initial foundation stone was set.