A Returner’s Magic Should Be Special - Chapter 53

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 53. Evernaton (5)

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Snow had fallen through the night, piling knee-high, and a biting wind cut across the morning air.
Inside the soldiers’ mess hall.
The place operated on a ration system—food prepared in bulk was distributed to all who worked in the fortress. Everyone stationed here gathered to eat.
The hall buzzed with noise. If you listened carefully, you could piece together the various happenings within the domain from the scattered conversations.
In one corner of that bustling hall.
“So Romantica really isn’t in this domain after all.”
Azest, Fram, and Dezir had claimed a table for themselves, speaking in low tones.
Dezir salted his soup as he spoke.
“Romantica will be fine.”
“You don’t seem worried, Dezir.”
“I’m a little worried, but… it should work out.”
Romantica was a 3rd Circle mage now. It was only a single rank difference on the surface, but there was a world between 2nd and 3rd Circle.
A 3rd Circle mage was equivalent to a regular soldier in the army. With 3rd Circle strength, most situations could be resolved.
“Besides, from what I felt during the entrance exam, Romantica is sharp. She’ll definitely be making progress on her quest in her own way.”
But Dezir knew the truth. The Main Quest was progressing in Evernaton domain, and Romantica wasn’t here. That meant one thing.
She might not be making any progress on her quest at all.
“…Still, I asked the domain lord to send messengers to the nearby domains just in case. She shouldn’t be in some completely random region—she’s probably somewhere around here.”
That much should resolve the matter of Romantica.
“That’s somewhat reassuring.”
Fram nodded.
Creak.
Soldiers eating at nearby tables stood and began to filter out. The hall grew quieter as they departed.
The morning meal was winding down. Azest was no exception. She set her empty bowl aside and turned to Dezir.
“So why did you want us all to meet like this?”
“I found out how history actually dealt with the vagrant problem.”
“Oh?”
The last remaining quest—the vagrant problem.
Azest folded her arms and focused on Dezir’s words, while Fram perked up his ears.
Dezir explained what he’d experienced the night before.
How Aeturan had visited Wilhelm’s office while he was working late, suggesting the deportation of vagrants, and how—though limited to criminals—when Wilhelm decided to expel them, the Quest Progress had declined. And how that proved Wilhelm had actually made such a decision in real history.
How that proved Wilhelm had actually made such a decision in real history.
“Will you look at this, Azest?”
After finishing his account, Dezir pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to her. The material was cheap, but the embroidery stitched into it was beautiful.
“This needlework is quite exquisite.”
“A vagrant woman made it. But she couldn’t sell it. Why? Because they banned vagrants from entering the marketplace.”
Dezir shook his head.
“Azest, doesn’t this remind you of something? The way people condemn all vagrants as harmful based on the actions of a few?”
“…?”
Azest tilted her head, thinking hard, but the answer eluded her.
That was right. It was a problem she couldn’t know. Only those who had experienced such treatment could truly understand it.
Fram suddenly raised his hand. When Dezir’s attention turned to him, Fram spoke with certainty.
“Beta Class?”
“Exactly.”
Dezir and Fram were Beta Class. They remembered clearly the scorn and discrimination directed at them.
That time when the label of commoner denied them proper opportunities to learn.
“When you see people condemning vagrants outright for being vagrants, doesn’t it remind you of Professor Fuggman dismissing commoners as incompetent?”
“That is…”
Azest, who had watched Fuggman from beside him all this time, swallowed hard.
“If there are criminals among the vagrants, they deserve punishment. But you can’t accept condemning the entire group based on the actions of a few.”
Azest’s expression tightened, as if struck.
Fram spoke.
“Could that be connected to Clear?”
Dezir nodded.
“If it had simply been a problem caused by ordinary vagrants, eliminating them would have solved it. But the Shadow World deemed the lord’s choice a ‘mistaken decision.’ That’s why I think it’s connected to clearing the quest. The key to resolving this must lie there.”
Dezir couldn’t know what Wilhelm’s choice had led to in history, or why the Shadow World had judged it as mistaken. He could only piece together fragments of conjecture.
“Fortunately, the situation isn’t dire. The food stores haven’t burned. We can hold out for the time being. The Esteban problem is resolved, so there are no enemies threatening the territory. Let’s think through this calmly.”
In the original history, he would have been forced into a corner, left with no choice but to drive the vagrants away. But now things were different. They still had time to search for a solution without panic.
“Commander!”
Just then, a knight’s voice rang out from inside the dining hall.
When Azest turned, the knight who had entered spotted her and approached.
“Ah, so the strategist is here as well. This is fortunate. I think both of you need to come with me.”
“What’s happened?”
“It’s something you’ll need to see for yourselves.”

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Standing atop the ramparts, Dezir, Fram, and Azest drew in sharp, sudden breaths.
The cold air filled their lungs completely. Their eyes widened, and without thinking, thin threads of blood vessels bloomed crimson across the whites.
“This is…….”
An enormous crowd filled the entire field of vision.
Countless people had gathered at the castle’s main gate, writhing and pressing together.
Emaciated figures, skin and bone; others wrapped in rags; some moaning with frostbite…….
They all gazed up at the castle with haggard faces. Every soul before the gates was a vagrant.
“Let us in!”
“My child is dying! Please, let us in! At least the child!”
Their voices echoed, embedding themselves deep in the ears. The sheer number of them seemed to reach several thousand at least.
This was very bad indeed. Dezir and Fram’s faces had drained to a sickly pallor as they took in the horrifying sight.
“Hmm…….”
Azest exhaled slowly.
Soldiers were holding back the seething mass of vagrants before the gates.
The gates remained firmly shut for now, but there was no telling when they might give way. And it was unclear when this crowd might transform into a mob.
Not only Dezir and Fram, but the soldiers’ faces bore unmistakable signs of panic.
“Where in the world have all these vagrants come from?”
“What is this situation…….”
Under normal circumstances, the vagrants would have been admitted. The lord’s own command had been to accept them without question.
But now their numbers were far too great.
The panicked soldiers had shut the gates entirely, sealing off all entry and exit.
It was a fortunate measure, at least. If such a multitude had poured into the castle, the consequences would have been catastrophic to manage.
Struck by this bolt from the blue, Dezir found himself unable to speak.
“This many……. It’s dangerous.”
If they admitted these people, the meager food supplies they were barely holding onto would be exhausted.
The writhing mass of vagrants looked like surging waves to him. Dezir found himself asking silently within: would he still refuse to turn them away?
Would he still refuse to drive them out?
“Why won’t you let us in!”
“You said you’d take us all!”
“Why are you singling us out like this!”
“Open the gates at once!”
Their tones had grown heated, resentment creeping into their words.

The vagrants’ raised voices stabbed at the ears. They seethed with anger at being turned away, and the lord’s charity had become nothing but their due in their eyes.
Before them, standing in confusion, someone dropped to their knee. It was the messenger who had been sent to Wilhelm.
Dezir turned to him with a question.
“What does the lord say?”
“He commands that all of them be admitted.”
‘Of course he does.’
It was exactly what he had expected.
“Do you really intend to admit them, Dezir?”
Azest asked.
“The order we’ve barely restored will fall apart. And what about the food supplies? This is a matter of the territory’s survival.”
Evernaton’s survival.
It was the name of the Main Quest itself, and the task that now confronted them.
Dezir looked out at the vagrants. The soldiers waited for his orders—he was the one responsible for this situation.
“Orders.”
Fram and Azest watched his lips.
His tightly closed mouth remained sealed for a long moment before finally parting.
“Open the gates.”
Dezir Armang’s command fell. A soldier raised his voice.
“Open the city gates!”
“Open them!”
The order rippled swiftly through the ranks of soldiers.
Dezir Armang turned to Azest.
“Azest, keep them orderly for now.”
“Leave it to me.”
Azest descended the city wall. She instructed the soldiers to create a passage for the Returners to enter.
Clank-clank-clank!
The sound of chains turning echoed through the air, and at last the city gates swung open.
Like a tide, the Returners began to surge forward. Under Azest’s direction, they were controlled—orderly, steady, file by file. And when the last of them crossed the threshold, a notification chimed.

—Vagrant Quest Progress has decreased by 15%. (Current Progress: 12%)

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