Sage 27

“Truly beautiful.”

“…..”

“What’s your name?”

Archbold, who had received Irkus from the auction, reached out to Irkus as soon as the carriage door closed.

Irkus briefly considered slitting Archbold’s throat right there, but since the client’s assassination request was not only to kill him but also to ‘bring the head of that dirty scoundrel’, he decided to take a little more time.

“Are you perhaps mute?”

Archbold chuckled as he stroked Irkus’s hair with his thick hand. He added in a low voice that it would be even better if he were.

Irkus slightly lowered his head to hide his cold gaze. The carriage floor seemed to have been diligently cleaned by the coachman, as it was shining. Irkus suppressed his killing intent while thinking about how much trouble the coachman would have if blood splattered on this floor.

“There’s a certain thrill in making elegant children like you cry.”

Archbold took out his handkerchief and offered Irkus the powdered medicine wrapped inside. He had an expression that suggested he had no idea what Irkus was thinking.

Irkus accepted the drug without any resistance. It must have been the drug Archbold had distributed to the market.

Irkus, who had developed a tolerance to most poisons in order to survive in the imperial palace where he was treated like an insect due to being an illegitimate child, took the drug as Archbold instructed without any resistance. This much risk was worth it if he could get the location of a powerful witch.

However, regardless of Irkus’s resolution to take the risk, the magic tool he was wearing proved its effectiveness.

The magic tool that Yoo-an had painstakingly created didn’t suddenly explode or castrate the pervert in front of him, but it successfully reflected the effects of the ingested drug back to Archbold.

Archbold, who had been forced to ingest the drug he was selling, lost consciousness until he returned to his mansion, completely oblivious to what had happened.

“…You didn’t just add disguise magic.”

Just as Irkus cherished Yoo-an, Yoo-an also cherished Irkus. Yoo-an didn’t admit it himself, but he was quite affectionate. It wasn’t a good personality for an immortal.

Having lived with Yoo-an for five years, Irkus quickly realized Yoo-an’s soft nature.

Han Yoo-an talked like a god but couldn’t escape the trappings of being human. He desired death yet was attached to people.

That was the contradiction of the Great Sage Han Yoo-an.

Yoo-an could easily use his power to force Irkus onto the throne, but he didn’t. To be precise, he couldn’t. It was ironic that he was worried about the future of the being who would kill him, even as he was singing about how badly he wanted to die. For someone who so strongly desired death, Yoo-an lacked any forcefulness.

It was evident from the way he tried not to get attached to Irkus, yet still told him that he hoped he wouldn’t kill people, and from all the tricks he had built into this magic tool.

Irkus looked at the ring-shaped magic tool Yoo-an had given him.

The meticulously crafted magic tool was intact and not rusted, even though it contained three different magic spells crammed inside. Only the obsidian in the center shimmered with a strange black light.

He lost his desire to take more time for the request. Irkus took out the sword he had hidden before entering the auction house. He didn’t like that he had to use the first ring Yoo-an gave him on such a trivial matter, just because he hadn’t detected the magic in the magic tool.

These magic tools melted away and disappeared, or became so damaged that they were beyond recognition after the magic contained within was activated.

Irkus wanted to keep the item Yoo-an gave him for a long time. Even if not forever, he didn’t want to let it go for a sufficiently long time.

Irkus raised his sword, looking coldly at Archbold, who had lost consciousness and was babbling nonsense, intoxicated by the drugs he was selling.

People who deserve to die should die. Humans die someday. Except for Han Yoo-an, everyone is meant to die. It was just a matter of dying a little earlier or later. That was the most intuitive truth of the world that Irkus had learned while being with Yoo-an.

The longer Irkus Sakrina Robain and Han Yoo-an spent together, the worse the influence they had on each other.

The immortal, who had nothing to gain from living humanely, relearned humanity after meeting the young boy who came to the Southern Forest. Yoo-an started to expect things from humans again, and under the pretext of investing time for Irkus, he took care of Teriz, whom he would have ignored in the past.

He even granted Adelaide’s request, which he would have ignored in the past, saying that he would make friends ‘for Irkus’. Although he said he was tired of living among humans, he stayed in Carabel, the capital of Kaman, for five years for Irkus.

Unlike Yoo-an, who was regaining his humanity, Irkus gradually lost various senses by his side. He was already born with strong powers because he had inherited witch blood, and because he spent his adolescence under the Great Sage Yoo-an, he grew into such a powerful mage that he couldn’t even control himself.

Yoo-an answered ‘it’s okay’ to Irkus’s first murder, and because Yoo-an said it was okay, Irkus became numb to many things.

Irkus’s moral standards were adjusted to Yoo-an. It was as natural as Yoo-an’s standards being adjusted to Irkus.

And Yoo-an had already noticed that Irkus was being negatively influenced by him. Irkus, in turn, noticed that Yoo-an had noticed this fact.

Han Yoo-an was the kind of person who would abandon Irkus under the guise of doing it for his own good when the time was right. Irkus had to finish many things before Yoo-an made him independent.

“Both you and I will go to hell…”

Archbold’s head fell off much too easily compared to the numerous evil deeds he had committed.

Irkus stared indifferently at the shiny carriage floor becoming stained with blood. He felt sorry for the coachman who would have to drive this carriage in the future. Despite the death of its owner, the carriage continued to run towards the mansion without stopping.

Irkus offered a short prayer to Elios and Henus, whom he had never believed in before.

He wasn’t asking for forgiveness. If mercy and justice truly exist, Irkus would have to wander through hell with Yoo-an forever.

***

“You’re the Great Sage.”

“As expected, people in high positions recognize me quickly.”

It seemed my reputation hadn’t been ruined.

I threw the low-ranking employee, whom I had been holding hostage, out the door with satisfaction. I had met the person I was looking for, so I no longer needed a hostage. If he had any sense, he would know how pointless it was to attack me.

“The Great Sage, who’s holed up in the Southern Forest and never comes out, what brings you to such a small auction house?”

“What brings me here? I came to destroy you.”

“Without reason?”

“Without reason? You’re illegal.”

Why are these guys so brazen when they’re running an illegal business selling all sorts of things?

I stared in disbelief at the auction house manager, who didn’t bat an eye. The manager was a young man in a fancy tailcoat. He seemed to be eating and sleeping well while running this place, as his face was shiny with grease.

Judging by the manager’s young age, this place was also likely a family-run business. They’ve been running a human auction for generations. Humans are so unprogressive.

“I don’t understand. It’s ridiculous to even call it enforcing justice. What’s the point of targeting such a small auction house?”

“How many times do I have to tell you? Small or not, you’re all criminals. What are you talking about ‘meaning’?”

I thought I could have a conversation with the manager, but it was impossible to communicate. When I showed no signs of backing down just from a conversation, the manager pointed a gun at me.

He called it a small auction house, but he seems to have made a lot of money?

Guns exist in this fantasy world, too. Although they don’t use ordinary bullets since magic replaced science, they use magic bullets made by condensing mana.

So, guns that use magic bullets were difficult to obtain weapons. It wasn’t just the price, but the cost-effectiveness was low. Unless they were someone who pursued outward appearances, rarely did people use guns for self-defense.

Mages are relatively easy to find, though not witches, so it’s cheaper to just hire a mage than to use a gun that requires expensive magic tools called magic bullets.

A gun in a world where wars are fought with magic and swords. He called it a ‘small auction house’, but it was clear they were making a lot of money. This must be a stolen item or smuggled good that they were hiding.

I was baffled by the fact that he pointed a gun at me, even though he knew I was the Great Sage. I won’t die even if he shoots me.

I strode toward the manager who was pointing the gun at me and kindly pointed the barrel under my chin, as if telling him this is where you shoot to kill someone for sure.

“I’ll give you time to run.”

“…You’re really crazy.”

“Isn’t this when you should be calling me benevolent instead of crazy? I’m saying I’ll spare you if you just hand over the keys to the places where people and things are locked up and the funds that have been cashed.”

It would be hard to imagine how ridiculous I looked to others, being threatened by someone when I was the one who had taken his gun.

I slightly pulled the safety pin and pulled the trigger, but nothing was fired. It seems he was able to get his hands on an expensive gun, but he probably couldn’t get magic bullets, which were much harder to acquire.

It seems like he hadn’t had to pull the trigger until now. Even if a gun didn’t have a magic bullet loaded, just pointing it at someone usually worked as a threat since they got scared.

I snorted and pulled down the manager’s trembling hands.

“Feeling wronged?”

“…..”

“Wondering why I came to your auction house, of all places? Well, what can you do?”

I also took the gun from the manager’s hand. I’ll modify this later and give it to Irkus. I felt a sense of satisfaction like a parent who just bought a toy for their child.

“You sold off my disciple.”

Although Irkus had crawled into this auction house and got himself sold as part of the request, it wasn’t a lie.

Irkus was sold for 90 million gallons here. Considering the disciple’s price and compensation for my mental distress, it would be fine if I took all the assets of this small auction house. And while I’m at it, I should also free the humans and non-humans who are still trapped and report everything to the Kingdom’s security forces.

I smiled kindly at the manager, who was handing me the bundle of keys with a distorted expression. Thanks to living among people for five years, I had finally developed a natural smile.

Seriously, I’ve become so nice since I started raising a child.