Chapter 32: Eril

“…So it failed.”

In a dark room, surrounded on all sides by walls, two men sat across from each other with a small table between them.

One wore a white mask that concealed his face, and the other was the red-haired man who had stood in front of Anak with Hailer.

On the table between them was a crystal orb, now cracked as if it had shattered from within.

“I expected as much. Honestly, it was too much for that one-armed guy to pull off, wasn’t it? Oh right, was it me who cut off that arm? Heh.”

Unlike the masked man who spoke in a composed, emotionless tone, the red-haired man picked up the broken orb and began tossing it lightly into the air like a mischievous boy playing a game.

He was clearly smiling, and his movements were full of playfulness, but his eyes were not smiling at all.

In those eyes, there was madness—the same madness Anak had seen before—as well as a fury born of a broken plan.

“…Even if his fame has faded, he’s still one of the heroes who saved the world. Or maybe the High Assassin guild has fallen further than I thought?”

The masked man’s sarcastic tone drew a smile from the red-haired man, who then tossed the orb behind him onto the floor.

“Who knows? Maybe you’re right. After all, someone like you becoming a leader of the guild means something’s clearly off.”

The High Assassin Guild.

Originally, they were merely an alliance of a few assassin groups—none of them particularly well-known, mostly composed of small-time organizations that had trouble finding high-profile clients.

However, cooperation among assassins made operations more efficient, which naturally increased their success rate.

At that time, assassins with higher success rates were known to demand absurdly high fees, whereas this alliance offered more reasonable prices.

Clients preferred them.

As a result, the organization grew in the shadows, gaining notoriety.

Famous assassins began to join the guild for survival.

But as the organization expanded, secrecy became increasingly difficult, and the number of watchful, suspicious eyes grew.

Of course, no country was willing to officially recognize a group like an assassin guild.

They had no shared ideology or beliefs, merely a criminal organization united for profit.

And they would never dare to fight regular armies just to defend the “guild” in name.

Eventually, to ensure their continued existence, the guild began to approach high-ranking officials of kingdoms, empires, and republics.

To gain their cooperation, they started fulfilling their cruel wishes—eliminating political enemies, securing heirs in succession battles, or simply accepting bribes.

It started small.

But those in power soon realized the guild wasn’t just a useful tool for achieving their ambitions—it could just as easily be the weapon aimed at them by others.

To protect their own interests, they began privatizing parts of the High Assassin Guild.

As a result, the guild was tacitly allowed to exist.

However, its leadership was increasingly composed of wealthy aristocrats and political powerhouses, people who had once just been clients.

Ironically, this meant that none of the leadership could freely use the guild for their own purposes—since one leader’s gain usually meant another’s loss.

Thus, the leadership kept each other in check, maintaining a precarious balance.

But after the last great war, the powers of nations had shifted drastically.

Some of the high ranking leaders died in the war, and now, the once-precarious balance among the guild’s leadership was rapidly unraveling.

And in such chaos, there are always those looking to seize the upper hand.

“Watch your tongue. Even if you’re one of the so-called highest-ranked assassins, that’s just a convenient label.”

Despite being face-to-face with a top assassin, the masked man showed no sign of fear.

In fact, he placed a hand on the sword at his side, as if to say he wouldn’t tolerate further disrespect.

A tense air settled over the room, until finally the red-haired man raised both hands slightly.

“…Yes, yes. I understand. I’ll play nice.”

His words were polite, but his eyes remained defiant.

Still, the masked man lowered his hand from the sword.

“So what now? We’ve lost one of our bases. And if we act any further, word might get out to the other leaders. Naturally, they won’t help.”

His tone had grown more polite, but his attitude remained playful.

“Yeah. Those cowardly old foxes wouldn’t dare touch a Hero’s companion. We’ve no choice. For now, we lay low and wait.”

“That’s a shame. I really thought this was the perfect opportunity to draw Baglos out.”

At that, the masked man pulled something from his robe.

A black orb, inscribed with dense runes and glyphs.

“Yes. Even Baglos wouldn’t just keep hiding if a comrade died.”

***

“Whew.”

As soon as I stepped out of the cave, I took a deep breath of fresh air.

It was good to be out safely, but walking through that stench again was even worse the second time.

“Now then…”

I pulled out the scroll I had taken earlier.

The cave had been deep, and collapsing it might affect the surrounding land.

I didn’t know what level of spell was inscribed on the scroll.

But I couldn’t leave the cave as it was.

If I did, the High Assassin Guild might use it again.

Or someone else could stumble in and get hurt.

Also…

“…I suppose it’s not a bad place for a grave.”

As I tore the scroll, a thunderous boom echoed, and the ground trembled as the cave collapsed.

I had braced for more dramatic effects—cracks in the earth or a landslide—but the aftermath was surprisingly mild.

Just a slight sinking of the ground above the cave.

“So now what?”

Unfortunately, this was beyond something I could solve alone.

“…I’ll have to go to Baglos.”

He would be able to find the red-haired man—and take care of things quietly and efficiently.

Of course, reaching him wouldn’t be easy.

“Will he answer?”

As before, glowing glyphs appeared in the air.

But whether he would respond was another matter.

It had been a long time, and our contract held no obligation.

Thankfully, my worries were unfounded.

A shadow fell across the ground, and with a familiar cry, a giant bird landed before me.

“Long time no see, Eril.”

With golden beak and feathers red as blood, large enough to lift a grown man with a single talon—this was one of the last phoenixes left on the continent, the master of the Lokshan Mountains.

“How are the chicks? Have they left the nest?”

She nodded, her gaze filled with pride and strong maternal love.

But only for a moment.

Through our linked consciousness, I felt her scolding.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s been too long. I should’ve visited.”

Phoenixes are notoriously difficult to contract with, but during a past journey through the Lokshan Mountains, I had helped a lost fledgling find its way—and since then, she had been helping us.

Of course, she usually had to raise her young and protect the mountain range, so the contract wasn’t binding.

Still, she was always someone I was grateful to, having responded every time I called during the last great war.

“I need to go find Bagloss. Can you give me a ride to the Mereka Mountains?”

She gladly accepted.

The swarm of wyverns blanketing the Mereka skies or the ancient forest below posed no threat to her.

She lowered her body and extended one wing like a staircase toward me.

“Then, excuse me.”

I stepped onto her wing and climbed onto her back.

Her feathers were still incredibly soft.

I really liked the feeling.

I once fell asleep nestled in those feathers, and I can say with certainty that it was the most comfortable sleep of my life.

“I said this last time too, but… can I take some of these feathers with me?”

They’d be amazing to sleep under.

She chuckled at my light joke—or at least pretended to—and slowly spread her wings.

A flow of mana wrapped around us, and with a powerful flap, we soared into the sky.

Phoenixes don’t fly with just the strength of their wings.

As beings with immense magical power, they instinctively use mana to take off more easily and fly at great speeds.

What’s more, the mana surrounding their bodies makes riding them feel smooth and incredibly safe.

“Come to think of it, it’s really been a long time since I’ve flown like this.”

Back in the day, flying was practically routine.

Even when I wasn’t riding Eril, Lord Medluf would often cast flight magic to help us scale cliffs or sneak over castle walls.

Before I knew it, the scenery below had shrunk to a distant blur.

Honestly, I was scared the first time I flew so high.

I was never fond of heights, and if I fell, no barrier could save me—that would’ve been the end.

But now, even as I looked down…

Okay.

I admit it.

Maybe it’s just been too long—but I’m still a little scared.

“…!”

Suddenly, Eril tilted her body side to side slightly, and I instinctively clung close to her.

At the same time, a playful emotion reached me through our connected consciousness.

She had sensed my fear and was teasing me.

“…Eril.”

She let out a mischievous laugh.

She didn’t use to be like this.

She used to be… more solemn, dignified.

Does this mean she’s really happy to see me?

Or did something happen in the past few years?

The question briefly crossed my mind before fading away.

After that, we flew for a long while, passing under a blazing red sunset and into a star-filled black sky.

Yet, even then, we hadn’t reached the Mereka Mountains.

“Eril, let’s stop and rest over there for today.”

If we flew until sunrise, we’d reach the mountains.

And Eril could go days without rest.

But I couldn’t.

Riding on the back of a phoenix is mentally exhausting.

Sure, even if I fell asleep, she’d never drop me—but knowing that and feeling safe are two different things.

We descended to the ground, and she lowered her body deeply so I could dismount.

“See you tomorrow, Eril.”

She tilted her head slightly, surprised.

She had probably thought I’d sleep nestled in her feathers like before.

And to be fair, that would’ve been nice.

Her feathers were still incredibly soft and warm.

But it was uncomfortable for her.

Unless they were extremely old, phoenixes barely ever sleep.

Asking her to stay in the same position for hours was a bit much.

The one time I did sleep like that, I didn’t even have this dawn robe, and Lord Medluf wasn’t with me.

There was no other way to avoid freezing to death.

“It’s fine. I’ve got a place to sleep.”

She wasn’t some being summoned from another realm or manifested through magic.

I couldn’t just send her back.

Summoning magic is fundamentally different from portals or teleportation.

That meant she would have to spend the night somewhere nearby and, once everything was done, fly back to Lokshan alone.

That’s why I always hesitated to call her.

But she would still have fun tonight.

There were plenty of monsters in this area—and she loved a good challenge.

Not to mention the tasty meals that followed.

“Go have some fun. I’ll call you when it’s time to go.”

She gave me a knowing look and soared into the night sky.

A few nearby monster dens probably wouldn’t see the morning light.