Chosen by the Northern Grand Duke

Chapter 24: Chain-Smoking Mage (3)

Kubel was an immigrant.

He came to Serzila four years ago, but before that, he worked as a hunter in a small western domain of the Empire.

He said the reason for his migration was hearing that a church had been established in the domain.

For a mage, it was like a bolt from the blue…

“A bad move.”

He should have been bold instead of fleeing.

That way, the Church would suspect less.

Kubel admitted with a tearful expression.

“Don’t do that in the future.”

I warned him as if a meeting with the Church was inevitable.

“By the way, you managed to get this place. It’s a spacious house.”

“I was lucky. The previous owner was a mage…”

Kubel trailed off, glancing at Ellen.

He said the neighbors beat the previous owner to death and left him in the street.

Thanks to that, the building was sold dirt cheap.

Because no one knew what a mage might have done in the house.

‘Even if you can beat a mage to death, you can’t do that to magic.’

Kubel kept talking for a while after that.

To me, it was a cliché story.

Every mage born on the continent laments their fate.

I knew the life of a mage luckier than Kubel, the end of a mage who died right after giving birth,

and even the story of a baby who died without knowing if they were a mage or not.

“What do you do for a living now?”

Ellen didn’t know these stories.

She wanted to hear everything from Kubel’s mouth.

It felt like she was trying to understand, or perhaps interrogating him.

“At first, I ran the tavern.”

The first floor was set up like a tavern.

“I did it for about a year and gave up.”

“Why?”

“…There were too many customers.”

It was a blessed problem, but for Kubel, it was overwhelmingly burdensome.

The timid Kubel was startled every time he dealt with customers. It was the opposite of the Flower District’s underbelly.

“Even doubling the price of drinks didn’t reduce the customers.”

In the North, overcharging gets you a fist.

‘And that fist is huge.’

Kubel’s fist was twice the size of mine.

It seemed like it could knock out most Northerners in one hit.

Of course, if they don’t come, there’s no need to get hit or feel intimidated by that fist.

“Your hands must have some magic touch.”

At my praise, Kubel scratched the back of his neck with a shy expression.

Ellen found the scene absurd.

Who would look at him and think of a demon?

There couldn’t be a gentler soul than him.

“Big as a mountain.”

“What?”

“Just talking to myself.”

Ellen was gruff.

It wasn’t that she disliked Kubel, but his clumsy demeanor irritated her.

The more she saw it, the more ridiculous she felt for insisting he should be killed last night.

“Sorry, sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

Kubel fidgeted with his fingers.

His fingers were thick and menacing, which made Ellen even more exasperated.

Then, Ellen found something to nitpick about Kubel’s fingers.

It was about Shura’s health.

“You hold back well? I heard you’re a chain-smoker.”

Kubel hadn’t smoked once in front of me or Ellen.

“Are you only not smoking in front of us? Do you smoke in front of Shura?”

“N-no, that’s…”

“He probably didn’t smoke even when alone with Shura.”

He must have smoked constantly while running the tavern.

I answered for the flustered Kubel.

“He doesn’t smoke because he wants to.”

“Right, right.”

Kubel nodded vigorously in agreement.

Ellen’s gaze demanded an explanation.

“Mages are influenced by their environment.”

I ignited a match-sized flame on my index finger.

Then, looking at the fireplace, I made its fire flare up significantly. The amount of mana used was the same.

“For me, it’s easier to use an existing fire than to create one where there is none. It’s only natural.”

But such environments are limited.

“So mages prepare.”

That’s why Ios carried dozens of drawings.

In Kubel’s case, he became a chain-smoker to the point even his daughter acknowledged it.

Burning dozens of cigarettes in front of Grex wasn’t just because he was uneasy.

It meant Kubel was preparing to respond.

Just in case. That’s what Kubel meant back then.

‘My dad’s smoke doesn’t reach me.’

Ellen recalled Shura’s words.

At the time, she concluded he smoked outside the building.

It was because she didn’t know the ways of a typical mage.

“You don’t do that.”

“I don’t avoid it; I can’t. That kind of preparation isn’t very rational.”

To be honest, I felt a bit wronged when Ios pointed it out.

You can’t carry fire around.

You can’t strike a flint in the middle of a fight.

“I’d do it if necessary, but it’s not very meaningful. At best, it’s just oil.”

It would help, but compared to a water mage carrying water, it’s a rather disadvantageous preparation.

“An enviable Origin. It’s excellent preparation.”

So I praised Kubel.

“Did someone teach you?”

“When I was a hunter, I felt it while lighting a campfire. It’s much easier to use existing smoke.”

Kubel understood his Origin well.

“That campfire led to cigarettes. Indeed, there’s no simpler or more natural excuse than cigarettes.”

The Kubel in front of me wasn’t smoking.

It meant he felt no need to prepare against me or Ellen.

Kubel trusted us.

“You’re calmer than yesterday.”

“…I saw you outside my house at dawn.”

Hoo. Kubel let out a small breath.

His breath moved along his gaze.

It seemed his magic could do more varied things than I thought.

“You see it?”

“Not exactly… I feel it.”

Kubel looked embarrassed, as if that was the only way he could explain it. It was an understandable vagueness.

“I get it. That’s what makes it magic.”

Kubel gave an awkward smile and continued.

He said he felt Ellen kill five mages outside his house. And even that I turned those five bodies to ash.

‘It’s not about hearing.’

It was similar to how knights sense presence.

It must be catching movement through the flow of smoke.

Like how waving a hand scatters smoke.

‘Ellen didn’t notice.’

Smoke.

Kubel’s Origin seemed more subtle than I thought.

“Did you do it from the first floor or the second?”

“The second floor.”

The building was narrow. But the ceiling was high.

There was quite a distance between the ground and the second floor. The obstructed view and building structure had to be considered too.

“You’re 3rd Rank.”

“W-Well… that’s…”

Kubel couldn’t answer.

Not because he was hiding it, but because he genuinely didn’t know.

Kubel was an untainted continental mage.

Born alone, they were inherently ignorant.

“You’ll need to learn from there.”

* * *

Kubel said he learned of the Liberation Tower’s existence three months ago.

He didn’t know how, but Grex came straight to him, knowing he was a mage.

“They’ll keep coming. Now, their purpose won’t just be persuasion.”

Grex was dead. Ellen killed five more.

For the Liberation Tower, where mages are precious, it must be highly displeasing.

“…I’m prepared.”

Kubel said, his eyes trembling.

“Unfortunately, we can’t protect you. Shura, maybe, but you’re not the type to be protected.”

Ellen’s expression turned strange.

“You said you’d help.”

“Did I? I said not to kill him.”

Isn’t that the same thing?

Ellen furrowed her brow.

“I want to help, but I’m not in a position to. Neither are you. Or are you going to ask the higher-ups?”

“…”

Ellen didn’t answer.

‘Not to that extent yet.’

Ellen might not know, but it meant Elaine wouldn’t approve.

It felt odd to distinguish the same person like this, but there was no helping it.

We hadn’t spent much time together yet.

“I’m a hostage here. Oh, Serzila took me knowing I’m a mage.”

I told Kubel.

“But I’m freer than you’d think. Because I proved my worth and keep proving it.”

“It’s because His Grace the Grand Duke vouches for you.”

“If I hadn’t proved my worth, that vouch would’ve been gone long ago.”

I looked at Kubel.

“Prove your worth too. Then I’ll vouch for you. I, whom His Grace vouches for.”

“…I’ll do anything you ask.”

Kubel answered resolutely.

Though his voice trembled, his body didn’t.

He knew well that if he backed down here, he couldn’t guarantee Shura’s safety.

Just then, someone knocked on the window.

It wasn’t a person but a bird.

A snow-white pigeon, used by Serzila’s Intelligence Bureau as a messenger.

A piece of parchment was in its beak.

Ellen opened the window and skillfully stroked the pigeon, opening its beak. She unfolded the halved parchment, read it, and tossed it to me.

“The interrogation’s done.”

“Good timing.”

The sun was finally showing signs of rising.

There was still time before Shura woke up.

“Have you ever killed someone?”

“What?”

Kubel’s eyes widened.

* * *

The interrogation target was the 3rd Squad Leader who arrested me at the tunnel.

The parchment detailed the informant who reported me.

Their portrait, identity, residence, the building’s structure, and even what they were hiding.

‘It’s her work.’

I guessed who the agent who wrote this was.

‘We must’ve known each other back then.’

In my previous life, Elaine heavily relied on that woman.

She was competent. A tenacious type who didn’t stop until she dug to the bottom of something.

I pointed to the face drawn on the parchment.

“Know this face?”

“I don’t.”

“…Neither do I.”

Ellen was the only agent residing in Serzila, but she hadn’t done Intelligence Bureau work.

Kubel had lived here for three years but barely interacted with neighbors. They didn’t even know Shura existed.

The destination was an inn.

The building was smaller than expected, but surprisingly, it was in the city center.

Turning my head, I could see a plaza in the distance down the main street.

I opened the inn’s door.

Ellen naturally followed behind me.

‘Why?’

Kubel tilted his head.

On the way here, he hadn’t been told anything.

He just followed my words to prove his worth.

He wasn’t in a position to ask questions.

Didn’t he say he’d do anything asked?

Kubel would have to jump off a cliff if I told him to. That was his resolve.

‘So Shura can live.’

Kubel kept repeating his daughter’s name in his mind.

Clenching his massive fist, he entered the inn.

The first floor doubled as a restaurant, a typical inn. There were a decent number of people. Judging by their attire, most were mercenaries.

The food smelled pretty good, but there was no scent of alcohol. The mercenaries at the tables seemed to have only ordered food.

Mercenaries are rough. Northern mercenaries even more so.

But these mercenaries were quiet. They didn’t fight or even shout.

The floor was so clean it gleamed. Squeak. The soles of my shoes rubbed pleasantly against it.

It felt like an expensive inn.

This didn’t seem like the place to prove worth.

Before I knew it, Ellen and I were sitting side by side at a table. In the center of the first floor. Kubel sat across from us.

“What do you think?”

I asked.

“It seems like a nice inn.”

“Anything strange?”

“…What? Oh, the lack of alcohol seems odd.”

“It’s not that there isn’t any; they’re not drinking. Just in case.”

I said softly.

It was a teaching tone.

“They’re dressed as mercenaries because it makes carrying weapons natural.”

“What?”

“They’re quiet to eavesdrop on customers’ conversations, to figure out if they’re customers or not.”

Kubel couldn’t understand my words.

But he nodded instinctively.

My gentle yet firm tone had a way of making people agree without thinking.

“It’s clean because they clean often. Probably cleaned out penniless mages. This tunnel seems expensive.”

This time, it didn’t convince him.

Kubel understood nothing.

“Who are you?”

But others seemed to.

Suddenly, the air turned cold. The mercenaries’ faces hardened. They drew their weapons. Some even drew Aura.

“Aura’s pretty common in the North.”

“…What’s he saying? He’s clearly not a Northerner.”

The mercenaries moved stealthily, surrounding our table.

Even so, Ellen and I remained calm.

“What do you think?”

“It’d be tough to take them all.”

“I agree.”

Then the mercenaries parted.

A man approached through the gap. The inn’s owner, his face and neck covered in scars.

“Who are you?”

Instead of answering, I said to Ellen.

“This guy?”

“Not bad.”

Bang! The table shattered.

The hammer the owner drew slammed into the floor at our feet.

“I asked who you are.”

“You’re the mage who reported me, Golas.”

Instead of answering, Golas flexed his muscles.

But the hammer didn’t budge. Ellen’s foot was firmly on it, and no matter how red his face got, it wouldn’t lift.

“Kill them!”

Golas shouted, letting go of the hammer.

I spoke too.

“Golas is yours, Kubel.”

“What?”

“The rest, this friend will kill.”

Ellen frowned as if annoyed, and Kubel flinched in shock.

Then Ellen moved.

Kubel didn’t even see her stand, but she had already drawn her sword. The arc of her sword sliced through four mercenaries’ necks at once.

“…”

The spurting blood soaked Kubel.

It felt like his heart sank. It pounded wildly.

“Prove your worth, Kubel.”

“I-I… no, I…”

He’d seen plenty of blood. All animal blood.

He’d never killed a person. But he’d seen people die often enough. All mages.

…And their families.

“You have to, so Shura can live.”