Chosen by the Northern Grand Duke

Chapter 22: Chain-Smoking Mage (1)

I could identify mages.

Ellen believed that.

If I pointed out a man on the street as a mage, Ellen would subdue him first.

Unless he was a knight.

That was her trust.

Children were excluded.

Ellen couldn’t accept the North’s protected being demons.

“What’s that?”

The girl, Shura, tilted her head.

“Which part? Ivory Tower? Ios? Or…”

Ellen jabbed my throat to silence me.

“Sorry. This guy’s jokes are bad. Your name’s Shura?”

“…”

Shura didn’t answer.

Didn’t look at Ellen. Her eyes stayed on me.

Yet she seemed clueless.

Ivory Tower, rank, Ios—she reacted to none.

But… she reacted to ‘mage.’

I saw her fingertips twitch, though her face stayed calm.

‘Continental mage?’

Possible.

But unlikely. Memories clarified. The owner of those moss-like eyes in my memory was a man.

“Joking.”

I raised my palms to Ellen’s deadly glare, kneeling to meet Shura’s eyes.

“That woman’s nicer than she seems. You can answer her.”

Shura nodded.

For some reason, she only responded to me.

“Not a stray. Just not ready to go home. Right?”

“Yes.”

“Your dad told you to do this?”

“Right.”

Her voice grew slightly louder.

“His name… Kubel, right? Big as a cow, lots of tears. Loved his daughter. That’s you, Shura.”

Her eyes widened.

“Heard he was a chain-smoker. Still is?”

Shura nodded vigorously.

“Yes. My dad’s a chain-smoker.”

She smiled brightly, adorably.

To her father, Kubel, even more so.

“You know my dad?”

“Next to you, I know him best.”

In my previous life, Kubel became a demon.

As the continent called mages.

* * *

“I stay home. Dad doesn’t like me going out.”

Shura, suspected mute by soldiers, answered readily.

“But my room has a secret passage.”

She spoke like a kid boasting about a hideout.

A kid’s hideout might be fake, but Shura’s was real.

“Today you had to use it.”

“Right. A guest came.”

When a guest came, Shura used the passage to leave.

“Can’t be seen by the guest! Like that.”

She mimicked her dad.

That’s why the passage existed.

“Is the guest still there?”

“Probably. Dad comes for me when they leave.”

Know where? Ellen muttered.

“I can probably enter your house. What do you think?”

“The guest’s scary, they said.”

“I can make that scary guest never come back.”

To Ellen, chilling words.

To young Shura, most welcome.

“That’d be great!”

Shura opened the door and pattered down the stairs.

“…She really likes you.”

Ellen’s lips pouted.

Shura following only me didn’t sit well. The North cherished and loved children.

“You really know her dad?”

“Seems so.”

“Really a good person?”

Keeping a child indoors.

And a chain-smoker.

“Smoking in front of a kid…”

Ellen crumpled a cigarette in her coat pocket.

“My dad’s smoke doesn’t reach me.”

Shura, walking ahead, overheard and retorted, not looking at Ellen.

Ellen pointed at her, dumbfounded.

Childish, almost.

“Picking a fight with a kid?”

“Not that, it doesn’t make sense.”

“It does. Think.”

Ellen was action-oriented. Instead of thinking, she lit a fresh cigarette, blowing smoke away from Shura, then realized.

“Oh. Doesn’t smoke at home?”

“…”

But Shura’s house was far from the Inner Fortress.

“Odd. A family with a child gets a house near the Inner Fortress.”

Ellen frowned.

The North’s favoritism toward children was extreme, with strong welfare. Serzila placed families with kids closest to the Inner Fortress.

“There.”

After some walking, Shura stopped, pointing at a house. Quite far.

“Get too close, and we might get caught.”

She whispered, as if the guest was scarier than thought.

Or her dad said so.

“Hmph.”

Either way, enough to anger Ellen.

Thinking of a guest scaring a child, her hand went to her sword.

“Take him away?”

She said, but to me, it sounded like killing out of Shura’s sight.

“No. You stay here.”

“Going alone?”

“Someone’s gotta watch Shura.”

Then Ellen realized this involved a mage.

“Who? The guest? Or…”

She trailed off, mindful of Shura.

If the dad was a mage and no mom, Shura would be an orphan.

“Both, probably.”

“…”

I chuckled at Ellen’s reaction.

She stuck close to Shura.

“Helping my dad?”

Shura asked.

“…”

Ellen couldn’t answer.

She wasn’t good at lying.

“Does your dad hate the guest?”

I patted Shura’s head instead.

“A lot.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Scary and annoying, he says.”

“Gotta make him comfortable.”

Ellen flinched.

To her, it sounded like killing for comfort.

I walked alone to the building Shura pointed at.

* * *

Thought it was a house, but it was a tavern.

At least the first floor. Not operating now, dust settled on liquor bottles.

Two men sat facing each other.

Spotting the massive one, my eyes lit up.

‘Really Kubel.’

Kubel, startled by the new guest, smoked heavily.

‘True chain-smoker.’

Thanks to him, the first floor was thick with smoke.

The acrid smell stung my nose.

“Who are you?”

The horse-faced man across Kubel asked.

“Harad.”

I offered a handshake, smiling.

“Nice to meet you.”

“…”

He was openly wary.

Natural. I was uninvited.

“This guy’s Kubel, right?”

“…Who are you?”

“Said already. Harad.”

I steadied myself, gripping the offered hand tightly.

“From the Liberation Tower. Assigned today.”

“Oh! Comrade!”

The horse-faced man clasped my hand eagerly.

“I’m Grex.”

* * *

Even Serzila, closest to the Otherworld, had scant info on it.

Ironically, the continent knew the term ‘mage tower.’

But not the Otherworld. They knew the Liberation Tower.

Liberation Tower.

Literally, a group of continental mages seeking freedom.

Once the continent’s headache.

Their base was never found.

Secretive, with many skilled mages.

That was it. Their actions and achievements were minor.

Until the Otherworld rose.

When it did, the Liberation Tower split.

One faction became the continent’s clear enemy.

“Which faction? I’m Rebellion.”

Grex was from that faction.

‘New face and name.’

The Rebellion faction aligned with the Otherworld.

They sought the Empire and Church’s downfall, siding with the Otherworld.

‘The Liberation Tower master led the Rebellion.’

It made sense.

How else would they know the term ‘mage tower’?

The master was tied to the Otherworld.

“Oh. I’m Liberation.”

I feigned regret.

“Lame side.”

Grex clicked his tongue.

Unlike Rebellion, Liberation’s goal was modest.

They sought true freedom.

A place to live peacefully as mages.

In my previous life, I respected Liberation.

They earned the Empire and Church’s hatred but fought the Otherworld independently.

Their strength was weak, but their intent was undeniable.

“If you’re here to recruit, you’re late. We got him.”

Kubel was Rebellion in my previous life.

‘Recruited now?’

I knew Kubel joined due to his daughter’s death.

Driven by vengeance.

“You asked him?”

“Time’s all it takes. He’s a mage.”

Grex was confident.

I understood why Kubel hid Shura.

Grex, like Rebellion, seemed hardline.

“Forcing’s no good, Grex.”

“The continent’s the one forcing. Kubel, speak. Die on a cross or be a comrade?”

Grex pressed.

Liberation’s presence made him urgent.

‘He doesn’t know Shura.’

Shura would be a perfect hostage.

But Grex didn’t mention her.

“…Leave.”

Kubel’s voice was low, like a deep cave, threatening despite its softness.

His cigarette-holding fingers trembled.

Suppressing anger. Grex’s hand went under the table, preparing for magic.

‘Threatening.’

I inwardly agreed, recalling my previous life.

Kubel was a core Rebellion force.

He ate mage hearts like meals, never sparing those he locked eyes with, crying as he killed.

People called it crocodile tears, horrified.

“Kubel.”

He looked at me.

Moss-like eyes, deeper than Shura’s, quivered. Like a crocodile about to cry.

In my previous life, when he cried, people died.

‘Did Grex die here?’