A Returner’s Magic Should Be Special - Chapter 48

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 48. Two Problems (7)

* * *

Creak.
Dezir Armang pushed open the heavy iron door leading underground. A musty smell drifted up, and a biting chill emanated from the stone walls and ceiling. He descended into the dim basement, guided by the faint light of a torch.
As Dezir surveyed the underground prison, he stopped at one particular cell. Beyond the iron bars sat a massive man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties.
The scars etched across his entire body told the compressed story of a brutal life. Iron chains—the kind used to bind great beasts—were wound tightly around him, and a gag was locked in his mouth.
In the eyes that fixed upon Dezir lay not the slightest trace of willingness to speak.
Dezir felt a peculiar sensation as he examined the ears of Crimson Talon. Three earrings of gold gleamed in the torchlight.
The earrings revealed everything about the Esteban who wore them.
For example, the hawk pattern on the first earring marked him as a member of the Hawk Tribe, the arrow pattern on the second indicated he was an archer, and the inscribed characters on the third denoted his ancestry.
Upon confirming the name of Crimson Talon’s ancestor, Dezir let out a low whistle.
‘A descendant of the Khan, then.’
Melger Khan. His renown was great enough to be recorded in history books.
Moreover, those who inherited his bloodline were universally gifted, and had earned notoriety across the continent as a persistent headache.
Crimson Talon clearly carried forward that exceptional talent.
He must take considerable pride in his lineage—and so would those who followed him.
‘Fortunate that I learned this before attempting conversation.’
Dezir began to reorganize his thoughts.
The quest in this Shadow World was to resolve two problems facing the territory.
The external problem: the Esteban issue.
The internal problem: the vagrant question.
‘And Crimson Talon is the crux of the Esteban problem.’
The picture became clear.
The Esteban invading the territory to acquire food for their tribe, and Evernaton defending to stop them.
If Wilhelm Evernaton, the lord of Evernaton Territory, was the central figure of the quest, then Crimson Talon, the chieftain of the Hawk Tribe of Esteban on the opposite side, should be the final boss……
‘……or so it should have been.’
Dezir looked upon Crimson Talon, bound entirely in iron chains. The moment his gaze met those beast-like eyes, he sensed a raw, metallic killing intent.
‘To think she captured such a creature alone.’
When Dezir heard that Azest had subdued Crimson Talon by herself and had kept the other Esteban occupied until reinforcements arrived, he could only shake his head in disbelief.
‘They said she used the Frozen Palace and the Magic Sword together…… Then that means her Calculation Power has surpassed 4 Circles.’
Dezir felt both stunned and, in a strange way, relieved. One major aspect of the main quest—the Esteban problem—could now be resolved easily.

-Esteban. (Progress Rate: 42.4%)
The chieftain of the Hawk Tribe, Crimson Talon, has been captured alive. Deprived of their lynchpin, the Hawk Tribe will be unable to mount an assault on the Evernaton Territory for some time.

‘This is a good opportunity.’
One had to seal the deal when opportunity presented itself. He would make certain that Azest’s efforts were not wasted, and tie this matter closed decisively.
‘The Progress Rate not being 100% means there’s still room for them to attack……’
The chieftain of the tribe was already captured. Once the enemy’s commander was in hand, the battle was, for all intents, over.
Having organized his thoughts, Dezir opened the iron gate and approached Crimson Talon.
“Crimson Talon, I would like to speak with you.”
Crimson Talon merely glared at Dezir with murderous intent burning in his eyes.
“Please refrain from biting or anything of that nature.”
Click.
The gag fell from Crimson Talon’s mouth.
“Ptui!”
Dezir wiped the spittle from his cheek. This level of reaction was entirely predictable.
“I will spare your life—and the lives of the eighty subordinates you have captured.”
“……?”
“Heir to the great Khan, fated rival who has long been the nightmare of Evernaton, I offer you Alilyad.”
Alilyad.
After tribal conflict ended, the tradition of mercy that the chieftain of the victorious tribe bestowed upon the defeated—an ancient Esteban custom. As this foreign word emerged from an outsider’s lips, Crimson Talon’s eyes widened.
“Who are you?”
“I am the strategist of the Evernaton Territory.”
“Scribe, I don’t know how you’ve come to know of Alilyad, but you have no right to offer it. Only the platinum-haired woman who struck us down can bestow Alilyad upon me.”
“Though I did not strike you down directly, I possess the right to do so, having prevented you from achieving your aim.”
“What?”
“I was the one who turned your provisions to sand.”
Clang! Clang!
The iron chains binding Crimson Talon rattled sharply.
“You…… you……!”
“…….”
Crimson Talon, who had flared with rage an instant before, felt his anger drain away the moment he met Dezir’s gaze—calm and unwavering, looking down at him with utter composure.
He clenched his fist, then relaxed his palm with a long breath.
“Fine.”
The cold, damp chill of the dungeon pressed against his skin.
Before Dezir could open his mouth to speak, Crimson Talon cut him off.
“And I refuse. You’re offering to spare our lives in exchange for our word never to breach the territory again. Am I wrong?”
“……That is correct.”
“I can see through what you lot are scheming.”
Alilyad, as a tradition, amounted to an exchange decidedly favorable to the party receiving the proposal. Yet for the people of Esteban, who prized honor over practical advantage, such matters held little weight.
Dezir posed a question to discern his true intent.
“Do you have reason to refuse the proposal?”
“You have been our enemies for years. Defeating you—that is the very goal of the Hawk Tribe. And now you ask us to withdraw empty-handed, to turn our backs on you without victory? That would be defeat. To renounce my honor, to abandon the deepest wish of my people—I cannot choose defeat of my own will.”
Enemy.
He had called Evernaton an enemy.
To them, breaching the Evernaton Territory was no longer a matter of provisions—it was war.
Dezir’s expression remained as composed as stone, yet inwardly his liver had grown cold, and he felt a wave of relief wash over him.
‘Thank the gods I didn’t execute him on the spot. I’d have had the entire remnant of the Hawk Tribe rushing at me, screaming for vengeance in their chieftain’s name.’
Dezir spoke.
“You are a warrior of true honor. You do not beg for your life; you will not abandon your tribe’s aspirations. Yet at the same time, you are profoundly selfish.”
For the first time, Dezir disparaged Crimson Talon.
Crimson Talon’s lips twitched slightly.
“Selfish……?”
“Yes. You think only of your own honor as a warrior. But what of the tribespeople who follow you? Will you abandon them?”
“They will understand my decision.”
“They will understand you as a warrior.”
Dezir dismissed his words.
“But they will not understand you as a leader. Has not the chieftain himself just judged the acceptance or rejection of Alilyad from the standpoint of a mere warrior, not of a ruler?”
Dezir struck at the heart of the matter.
“From the moment you became chieftain, your life ceased to be yours alone. Consider this: if those who harbor malice toward you were to attack your tribe, and your people found themselves without a leader—could they truly withstand such an assault?”
Crack!
The grinding of teeth echoed loudly through the cell.
“You dare…… threaten me? With the lives of my tribe?”
“Not a threat, but a proposal for an exchange.”
An evasion of responsibility.
He emphasizes that this is not something to be angry about with him.
Yet simultaneously, he plants worry in him about his tribe’s future.
Crimson Talon spoke.
“Even without me, there are other warriors to lead the tribe.”
“If such a person exists, then all is well—but does there truly exist a talent capable of replacing you as chieftain?”
‘There isn’t one.’
It was a question asked with the answer already known. Had there been a second-in-command of sufficient stature, the chieftain would never have risked coming here personally.
“Mmm…….”
Crimson Talon deliberates. Unlike moments before, when he had resisted outright, now he considers and weighs his options. He knows the scribe before him is determined to break him down by any means. The intention of their conversation is transparent once the objective itself has been laid bare.
Yet separate from that awareness, his heart tilts further and further. He finds himself persuaded by the man’s reasoning, his logic, his eloquence.
He is nearly won over.
Then Dezir delivered the killing blow.
“I will provide you with a portion of the provisions—the very provisions you sought to take.”
Crimson Talon’s eyes trembled sharply for an instant.
The provisions they had originally meant to carry away.
Crimson Talon’s original aim.
Crimson Talon realized that he could not refuse this proposal.
And so it came to this…….
“It’s not about retreating in defeat…….”
“It’s about forging a peace treaty as equals.”
“Ha!”
Dezir’s eyes, fixed upon Crimson Talon, seemed to ask ‘Will you refuse even now?’ In that moment, Crimson Talon understood that he could not reject this proposal.
“You are a cunning serpent, silver-tongued and treacherous.”
Crimson Talon clicked his tongue.
“Very well. I swear upon the honor of my chieftainship: a peace treaty is sealed between us. From this hour forward, I vow to lay no hand upon anything in this territory.”
The moment Crimson Talon spoke his oath upon the chieftain’s honor, a notification chimed in Dezir’s ear.

—The matter of Esteban has been resolved.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————