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Chapter 39: Build-up (3)

Calan listened to Thomas’ report with a grin.

“—And two students in the Royal Magic Academy shared their deals and conversations with the criminal in exchange for absolution.”

Calan nodded. It was a good strategy to obtain truthful statements. By offering forgiveness for their crimes in exchange for information, the City Guard had managed to obtain a great amount of it. After a few seconds, Calan spoke.

“…We still lack concrete, hard evidence.”

Thomas nodded.

“Yes, my lord.”

He knew that Evenon was at fault, but when it came to actually proving it, everything was still lacking. The man had worn a mask and a cloak and had possibly changed his voice with a spell when dealing with his customers. Even with the students’ statements, it was difficult to build a case. The investigations needed to continue.

“If only we had something incriminating enough to arrest him…”

They just needed something to start with. A reason to start acting against the criminal empire that Evenon had built, instead of only keeping up the investigations. The man knew how to cover his bases extremely well. Even after all this time preparing, the City Guard was still struggling. He looked at Thomas.

“Alright, those were the good news. Hit me with the bad ones.”

The older man let out a sigh.

“Evenon’s fighting back even harder than we predicted. The pressure from other noble families and key figures in the city to stop the investigation is mounting. We don’t know why.”

Calan drummed his fingers on the desk. It was something he had also noticed. For some reason, out of nowhere, important individuals had decided to intervene and tell the City Guard to stop looking into Evenon. This only got worse over time. Why? What had caused them to start doing this?

“Do you think Evenon has some dirt on them? Or something to leverage?” Calan asked with a pensive expression.

Thomas nodded.

“As we know, many outstanding young people go to the Magic Academies, including the heirs of the most important families of Cantavega. From what Rylan Flameheart told us, plenty of them are Evenon’s customers. Other important nobles also go to the brothels. It’s likely that Evenon is using both of these facts to coerce them into cooperating with him.”

Calan nodded. Drugs and sex were some of the most primal services that Evenon offered. That was also why they were the most effective. His partnership with the Lady had been a tremendous success. If she had asked the prostitutes to obtain information from their customers and pressure them somehow, the current situation was justified.

“And what about the conflicts with Evenon’s gang?” Calan said.

“As we thought, their number is getting higher over time. Honestly, I didn’t know Evenon commanded this much influence. There are far too many petty criminals creating trouble all over the town. The atmosphere is becoming worse.”

While some of Evenon’s men had been arrested and imprisoned, that didn’t seem to deter the others in the least. His underlings kept acting up, forcing the City Guard to divide its forces. Most of them escaped before the Guard arrived. Because of this, fewer people were leaving their homes. The city’s businesses were suffering, which only increased the pressure on the Vaard family to solve the whole thing quickly.

Calan let out another sigh. Evenon’s underlings were starting to turn violent; it had started with a few brawls in the taverns, but things were escalating fast. There had been reports of threats and attacks outside of Cantavega.

“That son of a bitch is doing everything he can to stop us,” Calan said with a bitter expression. Thomas nodded. It was working. Evenon and his men didn’t need to follow all sorts of protocols like the Guard. They could act far more freely than them. It was part of why Evenon’s plan was proving itself to be so effective.

Calan made a decision. They needed help.

There’s someone who knows Evenon like no one else.

As long as they had his help, they might be able to at least predict some of Evenon’s movements or even exploit them. He stood up.

“Thomas. We’re going to the Flameheart family’s estate.”

The attendant wore a surprised expression.

“Unannounced, young master?”

“The sooner we resolve this, the better. Rylan won’t refuse.”

Thomas furrowed his brow.

“I’m sorry to say this, but are you sure that’s true?”

Calan understood Thomas’ worries. Rylan was a ticking time bomb that nobody actually understood. Selfish, uncaring, and reckless. He seemed to be acting against Evenon, his greatest ally, for no clear reason other than a whim. Calan was still struggling to comprehend Rylan’s motivations. It was possible that he wanted to replace Evenon and take over the criminal underworld, but it was also possible that Evenon had simply slighted him somehow. Calan sighed.

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“Honestly, I don’t get why he’s doing this. However, the information he gave us was correct and accurate. It was the only reason why we managed to get this operation started, after all. For now, I’ll believe him.”

As he spoke, he frowned. It wasn’t comfortable to need help from Cantavega’s biggest wastrel. However, for some reason, he recalled Rylan’s appearance when he came to the Vaard family’s estate. The look in his eyes was completely different from before. He didn’t know why, but this was reassuring. He continued to speak.

“Rylan is the best possible helper, as the one who knows Evenon the most. To do this, we need his assistance.”

Calan grabbed the wand on the desk, storing it in his pocket. Thomas bowed. Together, they set out.

***

Rylan looked at the group of eighteen goblins running towards him with a relaxed expression. The earth rumbled. Behind them, three hobgoblins screamed. His sword’s edge glinted dangerously as the rays of sunlight pierced through the canopies.

He smiled. If Scott were here, would he have said that he could do it and called him master? It was surprisingly uncomfortable to hunt without the soldiers.

His mana circulated throughout his body with unprecedented speed. Every day, he improved. This was the strongest he had been in this life and tomorrow, that limit would be surpassed. With practiced ease, he got into the Stormcaller Sword Style’s most ideal stance. The first three goblins arrived.

Slow.

He avoided the first one’s club, taking a diagonal step and slashing in a flash. The blade reached the necks of the other two goblins before they could blink. With a burst of scarlet, the edge cut right through everything in its way as their heads fell to the ground, frozen in a snarl; instead of turning around to finish off the first one, Rylan adjusted his stance and took a step back. A second later, a blow went through where his head had been as the headless bodies of the goblins collapsed.

The remaining goblins arrived in waves, but he had no intention of being surrounded. There was no need to make this more difficult than it needed to be just for the thrill of it; the highest priority was Leveling up, not extending the fight. He wouldn’t be able to learn much from these kinds of enemies, anyway. His sword sunk into the chest of one of the goblins, right between its ribs. He pulled it to the side, cutting the creature’s chest open and slicing its left lung in half.

Two more goblins leaped at him, making him spin in place. The sword reached them before they could even get too close. It slashed their necks, cutting through skin, muscle, and even bone. Their heads dropped to the ground as the light left their eyes. With a sidestep, he avoided the carcasses that were still in mid-air.

This is better.

After increasing his stats and adapting to this body, he was now faster, stronger, and more accurate than before. He was only in contact with the surface of Roland’s experience and battle sense, but it was still incomparable. His memories told him what the best course of action was, but he was also managing to develop this body’s instincts and muscle memory. With every battle, he became greater.

The goblins were mowed down as quickly as they came at him. With the Falling Snow Steps and his sword styles, they were dispatched in seconds, not managing to even graze his clothes. Blood dyed the blades of grass on the ground, while cut-off limbs and heads flew through the air. The sound of Rylan’s blade dividing the air and the goblins’ screams resounded. His increased physical abilities fully supported his weapon, allowing him to slice through the goblins’ bones and flesh. His hands were now covered in blood, as was the blade, but he didn’t even glance at them.

By the time the three hobgoblins stopped screaming and looked around, it was too late; the entire group of enemies was dead. Their limbs and broken carcasses littered the ground, drowning the soft earth with blood. A metallic scent permeated the surroundings. Rylan let out a breath and looked at the System notification floating in front of him.

[You have reached Level 19.]

He looked at the hobgoblins.

“Now, come on. Let’s finish this.”

It had taken him twelve seconds to take care of the goblins.

The hobgoblins tightened their grips around their clubs, baring their fangs. Then, Rylan swung his sword, flinging some of the blood on the blade toward them. His gaze captured the entire clearing. The hobgoblins screeched and charged. However, the blood had been flung right at their eyes. There was no way for them to avoid having their vision impaired.

Falling Snow Steps: Drifting.

Rylan shot forward, easily avoiding the carcasses and limbs on the ground. The distance between him and the hobgoblins was crossed in a second. The enemy at the forefront swung his club, but it hit nothing but air as Rylan lowered his center of gravity. In a single movement, he stabbed the creature’s thigh. The sword sliced through the muscle, almost coming out on the other side. With a scream, the monster fell to its knees. Instead of finishing it off, however, he lunged to the left. The second hobgoblin’s club went right through the spot where he had been standing.

The third hobgoblin approached him from the right. With a calm expression, instead of backing away, Rylan dashed toward it. The overhead swing missed him completely as the air ruffled his hair. His sword flashed. His sword severed the hobgoblin’s throat. Blood gushed out right in the eyes of the incoming first enemy. The monster snarled and shook its head, but it was too late.

With a breath, Rylan lunged at it. The blade split its windpipe in half; as he pulled it to the side, it cut the blood vessels in its way. Both hobgoblins fell. They were dead before they hit the ground. The last hobgoblin looked at the fallen corpses of its kin, then took a few steps back with a whimper. Rylan raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t get scared, now.”

The monster roared. As if it had managed to overcome its instincts of self-preservation and fear with sheer anger, it charged at him. As it swung its club, Rylan realized this one was a bit different.

It’s a better fighter than the other two.

Roland’s experience allowed him to notice the difference. Had this hobgoblin in particular acquired a Skill related to weapon handling? It didn’t matter. It was still just a hobgoblin, even if an interesting one. Rylan met the swing with a slash of his own. As the weapons collided, the edge dug into the wood, reaching its halfway point. He grabbed the hilt with both hands and twisted his body to the left, then pulled horizontally with as much strength as he could. The blade went through the remaining wood, cutting off the top half of the club.

As the most threatening part of its weapon fell, the hobgoblin looked at it and hesitated for a single second. It was enough. A flash of steel mixed with a burst of crimson. The sound of air escaping a narrow passageway echoed. The hobgoblin’s head dropped to the ground.

Rylan let out a breath, then cleaned his sword with his shirt.

Time to collect the ears.

Even though he was only undertaking missions for the battle experience, there was no harm in making some extra money off them. He sheathed his sword, grabbed the dagger on his waist, and started cutting off the ears of the goblins and hobgoblins.

It was then. A sound reached Rylan’s sharpened hearing, which was empowered by his mana circulation. Footsteps. He immediately stopped and unsheathed his sword. He turned in the sound’s direction, then waited. Some distance away, from behind a tree, the shapes of fifteen people appeared. Rylan narrowed his eyes. Judging from their build, they were all men and wore robes of various colors, with a few of them carrying staves. He managed to identify the leather armor underneath. Most importantly, all of them wore masks. The man at the forefront was thin and black-haired.

Finally, the group of men arrived in the clearing. Without any words, some of them pulled wands out of their robes, while the others raised their staves.