Chapter 43: Trivial Suspicions
Blood relations are like a stain that cannot be easily removed.
With every beat of my heart, from the blood flowing through me, to every single cell that makes up my body, the essence of kinship sticks like a brand. We could also call it a ‘resemblance.’
The man picking up stones in the potato field looked just like me.
First, I noticed similarities in our facial features: the shape of the nose, the curve of the eyebrows, a jawline that leaned more towards delicacy than ruggedness. The orderly array of his teeth visible through a sigh.
Next came the scruffy black hair. The veins protruding when he sighed, his somewhat pale skin, and fingers where the second joints stood out.
But what was different?
Those yellow eyes stained like they might ooze some kind of odor. Eyes filled not with hope for the future, but stuck in the past. Fleeting glimpses of annoyance and pain. Wrinkles telling tales of time, and—
“I’d like to ask you something.”
“Oh my, are you a wizard…? Ah, but this time it’s someone different. Are you here to take someone away again? I’m not ready yet.”
His tone seemed deliberately drawn out, gritty, like chewing on sand. I could vaguely recall a similar feeling, back when a senior in school asked me to be a guarantor.
Essentially, it was uncomfortable.
Squinting at the back of my father’s head as he bowed low, trying to curry favor, I realized he didn’t recognize me.
An inexplicable impulse pricked my mind. I felt the urge to resent and be angry at this man, but it was an oddly fresh emotion. Memories may have faded, but feelings remained.
For the first time in a long while, I felt my blood run cold. It was a sensation akin to that of a cold-blooded creature: my chest chilly, my head boiling.
Let’s summarize.
1) I felt resentment towards my father.
2) He didn’t recognize me.
3) He was regularly handing something over to a wizard.
Choosing my words carefully, I couldn’t allow myself to be swept away by these unfamiliar emotions into a fit of anger. I wanted to understand everything. My goal was to extract information from my father. It was time to start the role play.
It’s fundamental to adapt to the image others expect of me.
A bowing gesture <= My father was clearly of lower status than his client. That meant it would be best to address him from a higher ground. I’m not ready yet, though. <= That’s an excuse. He wanted to deflect blame off himself. Well then, I’d let him deflect. “I’m not here to hold you accountable. I just came to check how things are going.” “Ah, is that so…? Uh, is that working out well? I heard it was quite tough last time.” It’s someone different this time. <= My father recognized that I was not the same person who came before. His awkward query about whether things were going well was clumsy suspicion. Physical signs were apparent as well; his pupils flickered nervously. It seemed my father harbored doubts about my “generosity.” His client didn’t seem to possess a kindly nature. Maybe it was better to be a bit rougher. “Whatever you heard from my predecessor is none of your business. Am I in a position to report everything to you?” “Oh no, no… Of course not.” This was the countryside, barely scraping by with potato farming. What could be the goods worth taking here? Potatoes? He didn’t seem that attached to farming to get cheeky about whether I intended to 'take something.' What kind of group would generally be considered to have terrible personalities? That was a significant clue. What was the reason he mistook me for his 'client' in the first place? There had to be clear indicators that allowed him to address me so confidently at once. That clear sign had to relate to me. I straightened my neck, drawing in a bit of strength. “I’ll ask again. How are things going these days?” “Having a goblin tribe nearby is a hassle, of course. When those damn little bastards stir things up, as you’d know, it obviously decreases production, doesn’t it?” He seemed to be casually testing the waters, but I had gathered enough clues. Now, it was time for me to present my answer. There might be a leap in logic here. But I was fine with making a wrong guess. I was diligently preparing illusion magic in the background. If things went south, I could simply use it. So, it was okay to be a bit blunt. Though we’d only known each other briefly during the carriage ride, we had grown quite familiar. Let’s recall what Pink-Haired Lesbian had said. At the village entrance, shementioned something odd. That there was a complete lack of any obvious reaction when a stranger entered the village. At first, I thought it was because they hired mercenaries to drive out the goblin tribe. But now, I was starting to think that wasn’t necessarily the case. Let’s think this through, step by step. The mercenaries were loafing around at the Village Chief’s house. If the village had money, they would hire different mercenaries. After all, they had to deal with both the goblin tribe and unruly mercenaries. But that didn’t happen. The Red Tower Wizard had mentioned it had been quite a long time since the mercenaries set up camp there. They must have been staying there because they lacked the funds to kick them out. Summarizing this, there seemed to have been only one instance where a foreigner visited the village. Simply put, it suggests that there have been frequent visits from outsiders recently. It’s highly likely that one of them is a wizard. And initially, there had been no wizards in the mercenary group. The Red Tower Wizard even said she hadn’t visited the village in ages. So why hadn’t the villagers shown any interest in me or Pink-Haired Lesbian? Because it was familiar to them. The reason my father mistook me as a ‘client.’ Familiarity. The attire. A distinctive outfit. Because he was familiar with the robe and hood of the Purple Magic Tower. Then what were they trading? That remained the question. This was the last recollection I needed to uncover. The farthest memory when I entered the Purple Magic Tower. What did I reflect upon back then? I was reborn as a commoner in a fantasy world.
I shouted for a status window, but nothing appeared.
I wasn’t particularly strong, nor was I of high status, so I figured I would end up living and dying farming potatoes like my parents. But surprisingly, I had the talent of an Archwizard.
No wonder I was good at mental math.
I was dragged to a place called the Magic Tower, receiving countless love calls from the Tower Masters.
Dragged?
I spat at my father.
“Do you remember the son you sold off 10 years ago?”
“Oh, that annoying brat. Always talking back to adults…”
“Is that so.”
That was good enough.
I unleashed the illusion magic I had prepared. My father immediately lost consciousness and collapsed. After a short nap, he would likely start to confuse his left and right. A 50% chance of that happening.
===============================================================
“See you later!”
“We probably won’t meet again, you know?!”
I said a brief goodbye to the Red Tower Wizard.
===============================================================
On the way back, I vented my frustrations.
“So, I mean, there were probably obvious situations that I didn’t need to see to grasp. So I’ve decided to stop searching for my memories.”
“I see.”
“But I need to think it over a little more. I know my father sold his own children. I’m aware I was sold 10 years ago. Perhaps the entire village has developed a taste for human trafficking. But with how they converse, it seems like there might have been exchanges until recently, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. The villagers wouldn’t act so familiarly if they had only seen such figures once 10 years ago. It’s most likely there have been exchanges close to this time.”
“…”
“Are you suspicious?”
“It’s either one of two things, right?”
1. Someone from the Purple Magic Tower / or someone impersonating them has been consistently receiving people. Yuna still doesn’t know about the evil culprit hiding in the Purple Magic Tower.
2. I know absolutely nothing about the Purple Magic Tower.
Though it sounded like a foolish question, it was difficult to bear without asking.
“What do you think is more likely? Pink-Haired Lesbian.”
“If I choose number 2, are you going to cry like a baby?”
“I’d laugh.”
“Then there’s no need for deceit. I believe it’s number 1.”
“Why?”
“Unless you’re an absolute idiot, it’s impossible not to see that look in her eyes. The Purple Magic Tower Master looked at you as if honey was dripping from her eyes.”
“?”
“You blockheaded fool.”
===============================================================
A butterfly landed in a secluded forest.
A group of shabby mercenaries devised a plan to ambush the arrogant wizard, have some fun, and then disappear from the village.
As they checked their equipment and prepared to surprise her in a suitable thicket, they encountered the butterfly.
Upon closer inspection, it was a person.
Her expression remained hidden under a large conical hat snugly pulled down, while golden twin tails tied at the side danced in the breeze. She held a spiraled staff firmly in her arms.
“Hey, brother, that thing…”
The youngest mercenary pointed to the edge of the forest. One by one, the mercenaries turned their heads, gazing at the small and delicate-looking wizard.
“She seems like a lost lady, but since we’re leaving this area anyway, wouldn’t it be fine to catch one more?”
“You’re right. We were planning to take the whole village, and now the plan has gone awry. Honestly, two isn’t enough, right? Plus, she looks like she’s well-endowed.”
“Are you blind? She looks like she wouldn’t have anything to feast on… But still, she seems to have a decent face, so that’s something.”
“N-No, everyone, what are you talking about? T-That over there doesn’t look human at all?!”
Quietly, the staff was aimed. All the mercenaries, except one, could sense no danger. The Purple Magic Tower Master murmured softly, like a sigh.
“I-I don’t want h-his hands stained with blood. E-Eh, it’ll get worse…”
“What are you muttering about?”
“So, let’s just pretend these people… were never here.”
“B-Brothers, run away!”
Metamorphosis – Subtraction.
Light flashed from the tip of the staff. The youngest mercenary, ducking and covering his head in fear, was spared from the direct hit of the beam. As a result, the beam merely grazed his hands.
A moment of silence.
When he looked up again, his fellow mercenaries were frozen, rigid and unblinking. They weren’t breathing, either. Their expressions remained unchanged. There was no focus in their gazes at all. Upon closer inspection, they seemed entirely lifeless.
In a panic, the surviving mercenary attempted to struggle for his life, reaching for his sword. But he couldn’t muster the strength, for it didn’t exist for him. A sword could only be drawn if he moved his arm, grasped the handle with his hand, and pulled it out.
“…Huh?”
It felt like there was something that should be there but was missing.
At the end of a person’s arm, there should have been a hand. But it seemed like it had never been there. So, how was he supposed to draw the sword? After exhausting all his wit, the mercenary managed to fit the handle into the crook of his elbow. He trembled, gripped by an incomprehensible fear. Something was terribly awry.
The wizard spoke gently.
“You… you have a small bit of resistance, huh? If you had ended up at the Purple Magic Tower and done very well… you might’ve reached Metamorphosis. But right now, you’re nothing more than a Fourth-Class mercenary…”
“Ugh, ugh… AAAAAAAHHH!!”
His scream cut off abruptly because the wizard’s beam had grazed his lower jaw. He could scream no more for lacking a throat, nor could he breathe without a lung. He writhed in pain, body contorting as he choked on the absence of air.
“Shh.”
With another flash of light, he became nothing.
“Bury.”
Mother Earth devoured five unrecognizable chunks of organic matter that could no longer think. They existed without meaning, and upon the end of their lives, they would finally decompose and return to nature.
This was an incident that occurred in a certain forest.
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