A Returner’s Magic Should Be Special - Chapter 85

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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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A Returner’s Magic Must Be Special (85)

Episode 85. He Makes His Decision (7)

‘Surely he won’t push further.’
Dezir had spent long years with Jord in his past life, yet he had never seen him like this.
The Mage Tower Master who once acted with cold clarity regardless of circumstance, grounded in evidence—the 6-circle mage Jord who would never relent in unearthing truth to satisfy his curiosity—was now simply abandoning his interest without resistance. It was incomprehensible.
If he was going to give up so easily, what had all their conversation meant until now? The thought struck suddenly. Dezir asked, almost warily.
“Then, Master Jord, everything you’ve said to me all this time…….”
“I was merely testing you. If you tell me, fine. If not, so be it.”
All the threats Jord had leveled at Dezir had been an act. He had been completely deceived.
Dezir spoke in a voice that had grown somber.
“Jord.”
“My apologies. I won’t ask about your identity again. Everyone has things they wish to keep hidden. Even I harbor countless secrets I cannot tell you.” Jord’s expression softened with genuine warmth.
Dezir bowed slightly toward him.
“I’m truly sorry. But I make you this promise: when the time comes, I will tell you everything.”
Chuckle.
They looked at each other and smiled.
“I hope that day isn’t too far away.”
Jord’s smile was remarkably gentle—like that of a grandfather gazing upon his grandchild.
“Is there anything else you wish to say?”
“Yes, one more thing. It concerns the Outer.”
Dezir’s mind turned instantly to the events that had unfolded.
They had happened in the span of moments.
The grand assembly of the Western Kingdom Alliance, the terror attack on the conference hall by the Outer, and the demon they had summoned at last—Dadenuf.
Until now they had only caused minor friction, but now they were beginning to act in earnest.
Those seeking to overthrow the current order and sow chaos were undoubtedly a threat. The Raven Mask who had orchestrated this terror attack was especially dangerous.
“Through this incident, we’ve learned that the Outer’s military strength is considerable. They’ve been concealing their true power all along.”
Above all, there was the Raven Mask who led them.
One of the continent’s few 6-circle mages who wielded Secret Magic.
In Spatial Magic alone, he surpassed even Jord—a master of extraordinary skill.
Dezir could not fathom how such a person had remained nameless and hidden his identity until now.
‘And the Revolutionary Army…….’
The Raven Mask was a remnant of the Revolutionary Army.
Dezir had heard that the surviving remnants of the Revolutionary Army from the civil war in the Hebrion Empire had become the Outer, but he never expected to face them in this manner.
They commit indiscriminate terror under the pretext that this world is corrupt.
‘Those driven by conviction are the most dangerous.’
Those with belief are terrifying. They justify every action by convincing themselves their cause is righteous.
Had they not attempted to slaughter citizens without hesitation, calling it a small sacrifice for the greater good when they revived Dadenuf?
‘It’s intolerable.’
There was no other word for it but madness.
Such actions—where one stops at nothing to achieve one’s goal—cannot be dressed up in any rhetoric.
It was already no revolution. It was outright massacre.
‘By now, he must recognize me as an enemy.’
Dezir sensed that he would cross paths with the Raven Mask again someday.
Jord spoke.
“There’s no need to worry too much. Good things have come from this incident as well.”
“Pardon? What do you mean by that?”
Jord picked up one of the newspapers stacked to the side and handed it to Dezir.

[A Mage from Hebrion Academy Takes Up Arms Against an Old Rival.]

“The mood has shifted since the assembly. Not only the citizens of the Western Kingdom Alliance, but the kings of each nation have awakened to the gravity of the Outer threat. And because of you, the impression of the Hebrion Empire has improved dramatically.”
A smile bloomed on Dezir’s face.
“Is that so? I’m truly relieved.”
“If events unfold favorably, a joint front between the Hebrion Empire and the Western Kingdom Alliance may yet form.”
“That is my fervent hope.”
Jord rose from his seat.
“My tale ends here. I shall take my leave now. Rest well, won’t you.”
“Thank you, Master.”
Click.
The moment he opened the hospital room door and stepped out, the Silence Magic dissolved.
The long conversation had drawn to a close.
Dezir Armang settled back against the soft pillow, his mind replaying everything he’d discussed with Jord.
‘Improved relations between the Western Kingdom Alliance and the Hebrion Empire…’
It was a small mercy in dark times.
He fell into thought.
‘But the true enemy isn’t there.’
Despite the emergence of this new threat called the Outer, the fundamental adversary remained unchanged.
The Shadow Labyrinth.
The worst calamity yet to come.
Dezir had decided to keep silent about his true enemy for now. Without explaining his Return, he had no grounds convincing enough to make others believe him—and it would only sow confusion.
‘Now is the time to prepare methodically.’
Gather allies, cultivate their strength, build a faction. Of course, his own growth could not be neglected either.
One step at a time—that was how progress would be made.
And so, he believed, any danger could be overcome.

* * *

A quiet village in the Frillecha Kingdom.
It sat along the road to the capital, a place where merchants and travelers often stopped on their journeys north.
The village had little to boast of, and its size was unremarkable, yet it possessed something special.
Dark Ale.
The Dark Ale served at the village’s single tavern had earned a reputation throughout the surrounding regions. People traveled from neighboring villages just to taste it.
“Hey, Hans. Did you hear the news?”
That evening was oppressively hot. Heat rose from the earth in waves, and the air hung thick and humid. The villagers had crowded into the tavern, seeking relief in cold Dark Ale.
The tavern was unusually loud that night—not merely because the entire neighborhood had gathered there. News from the capital had arrived, and it had turned the village upside down. Men clustered together, piecing together what they’d heard, delighting in speculation.
“What news are you referring to?”
Hans, who operated the mill in town, feigned ignorance at his friend’s question.
His friend slapped his own chest in exasperation.
“Come now! You haven’t read the newspaper? What have you been doing these past few days?”
“Well, you know I’ve had matters to attend to recently.”
“You said you were ill, didn’t you? I suppose you did close the mill for several days. But it’s this Outer business—the Outer. They attacked the capital, didn’t they?”
His friend cupped a hand to his ear, gesturing for Hans to listen to the murmuring voices around them. When Hans fell silent, he could hear snatches of conversation from the crowd.
“The Outer attacked the capital…”
“A student from Hebrion Academy…”
“A hero…”
Everyone in the tavern spoke of the same event. There was nothing strange about it. Such a momentous affair deserved recording in history, and rumors of it had already spread across the entire continent.
Hans listened quietly as his friend recounted the details. When the tale ended, he couldn’t help but admire.
“So someone gave those Outer bastards what they deserved,”
The patrons in the tavern heard his voice and each chimed in.
“Good for them.”
“Troublemakers, the lot of them! I heard the Magic Tower suffered astronomical losses at their hands.”
“They stole technology too, didn’t they?”
“Well, they’ve been repaid in full now.”
Heads nodded in agreement.
“No wonder merchants have been scarce in these parts recently.”
“With the capital in disarray, there’s no business to be done. And now that trains are becoming more common, fewer outsiders will pass through our village at all.”
Having heard the full account, Hans took a long draught of his ale. It went down smoothly.
He set down the mug with satisfaction, his face flushed. The Dark Ale brewed here was notoriously strong. A single glass could leave even the stoutest drinker pleasantly intoxicated.
With heavy-lidded eyes, Hans surveyed the room, and his gaze came to rest on one figure in particular.
“Who’s that fellow?”
He pointed toward someone in the corner.
There in the shadows of the tavern sat a lone drinker, nursing an ale. A hood was pulled over their head, the shadows so deep that their face remained hidden.
They sat alone, drinking in silence. The dark, unsettling air that seemed to emanate from them kept others at a distance.
An unpleasant-looking man.
Hans’s friend lowered his voice.
“An outsider who’s been staying here for a few days now. No one’s ever seen his face.”
The incident that had unfolded in the capital had cut off even the handful of merchants who’d ventured this way. As for travelers, they’d all but vanished.
So it was hardly surprising that the townsfolk regarded him with suspicion, or that they wanted nothing to do with him.
His friend leaned close to Hans and whispered in his ear.
“Truth is… they think I’m with the Outer. I reported myself. Should hear back tomorrow, probably.”
“The Outer?”
“Keep your voice down!”
His friend pressed down on Hans’s head and watched the man in the hood carefully. But he simply continued sipping his dark ale, oblivious.

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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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