My Disciples Became Scoundrels - Chapter 107

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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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He said the reason the disciples had to die was because of their bloodline. The Guardians were obsessed with relentless, almost cruel persistence. What bloodline could possibly warrant such fanaticism?
‘How does the disciples’ death serve the world?’
While Dein was lost in thought, something flickered into view before him. A familiar face.
“Master! Are you alright?”
It was Cesare. Despite having used Teleportation, he was gasping as if he’d been sprinting at full speed.
His clothes told the story—torn in places, stained with blood. It was clear he’d rushed here the moment the fighting ended.
Dein pushed his aching body upright.
“Cesare, you’re hurt. Why didn’t you get treated first? Are the others all right?”
“Hah.”
Cesare made a sound of disbelief, then gripped Dein’s hand irritably, pulling him up.
“Because I’m fine. Please, just worry about yourself first!”
“It hurts. I’m in pain. Be gentle.”
He hesitated, and the tension drained from Cesare’s grip. He looked angry and relieved all at once.
“…Thank goodness you’re alive. I was afraid something might have happened to you. Everyone was so worried…”
In moments like this, he still seemed like a child. Dein patted Cesare’s shoulder.
“Do you think I’d fall so easily? Don’t worry.”
“You might not fall easily, but you did get hurt.”
Cesare pouted. Knowing it was mere petulance, Dein didn’t bother scolding him.
“By the way, what happened to the Blood Lord?”
“Kalan took him. I’ll explain the details later. For now, let’s search this place, then we can go. You can head back if you want.”
“Everyone’s worried. Let’s just hurry and leave together.”
Since they’d lost the Blood Lord, information would have to come from elsewhere. Dein headed deeper into the basement.
An inactive teleportation circle lay silent. Beside him, Cesare scratched his cheek.
“Damn, I should’ve brought Arkel. What the hell is this supposed to be?”
“I don’t know the magical formulas either. But one of the destinations seems to be the Blood Magic Tower.”
“What’s that?”
“An organization that researches bloodline-related magic. They help with bloodline awakening, enhancement, and the like.”
This alone wasn’t enough to suspect the Blood Magic Tower. Dein moved toward the cabinet inside.
When he opened it, there were quite a few documents—ledgers and papers of various kinds. Crimson Red had dealt with a diverse set of contacts.
‘There are suspicious connections, but I can’t chase every lead blindly.’
Then Dein’s eyes caught on one particular sheet. Cesare blinked.
“Huh? I can’t read any of this. Is it a foreign language? Looks like worm script.”
“Recognition Inhibition Magic has been placed on it, it seems.”
Several other papers were similar. Some bore bloodline stamps. Dein drew his dagger.
“It’s a security measure. The key is probably the Blood Lord’s blood.”
The dagger he’d driven into the Blood Lord’s ribs still gleamed red. The moment he let fresh blood drip onto the document.
The wavering text stilled. Dein quickly scanned the contents.
[We made a request to the Blood Magic Tower, but there was no bloodline holder available. It seems Balanus is likely the last. Should we cease the blood trade?]
Dein quickly folded the document. Had Cesare seen it?
The words echoed in his mind: Balanus is the last bloodline holder. If Cesare’s perception was sharp, he would have grasped the situation.
The Guardians’ target was the disciples. This fact, Dein wanted to keep hidden.
Cesare stared blankly for a moment, then tried to snatch the paper away.
“I could see it. Why are you the only one looking?”
“It’s not good news.”
“But it was written there—something about searching for bloodlines, and Balanus is the last? So that means… that…”
A moment later, he spoke aloud.
“I don’t understand everything, but… the Guardians are targeting us, right? We’re their real target? The disciples?”
“…”
“Bella would know this better. We should ask her when we get back…”
“Keep it a secret, Cesare.”
All of Balanus, the whole of Aspenheim had been dragged into this to kill the disciples.
If the disciples learned this truth, guilt would consume them.
What those guilt-stricken children might do was painfully obvious.
“Keep it secret for now, just for a little while. I need to investigate a bit more before we speak of it.”
“…”
“I’m asking you.”
Dein met his eyes. Cesare looked briefly flustered, then let out a sigh.
“If Jenia finds out I’m lying… you know what happens, right?”
“I do.”
“Then that settles it. Master must have his reasons for keeping it hidden.”
Cesare hoisted Dein effortlessly into the air, his cheerful grin never wavering.
“Well, you’re alive—that’s what matters! Now let’s head up. Everyone must be losing their minds wondering if you’re dead or alive.”
Cesare climbed the stairs. With each step, the light grew stronger. The underground that Dein had descended alone, he now ascended with his student at his side.
The boy must have been exhausted, yet not a tremor ran through him, no sign of strain on his face. He simply bore his master upward.
The landscape brightened gradually. The dark future Dein had glimpsed was nowhere to be found.
His mind remained tangled, though. Why were they targeting his disciples? What was this Bloodline?
Tomorrow, death might come again. Yet in this moment, it felt like it wouldn’t.
He had his disciples. The young saplings had grown, and already they were becoming sturdy trees. Dein let his guard fall and leaned into Cesare’s embrace.
First, he would see his students.
He would comfort them through their trials, share a good meal together. That mattered most right now. To meet his living disciples.
20. The Cradle
The Management Bureau hummed with activity as it always did. Visitors lodged Requests, staff members bustled about their work, various Guilds and Domus members waited in the antechamber.
Arkel and I sat in the waiting room. The oppressive edge in Arkel’s voice reached my ears.
“The wait grows longer by the day. We settled the Crimson Red matter ten days ago, yet accounting remains incomplete.”
After resolving things in the slums, we’d returned to Aspenheim. Everyone survived, and we’d gained intelligence on the Guardians.
I’d told my disciples only that the Blood Magic Tower and the Blood Lord maintained contact.
Our destination was clear, but we remained in Aspenheim. The Blood Magic Tower was not a place everyone could simply visit.
“It’s unfortunate that access to the Blood Magic Tower requires Gold Rank status.”
“We’ve met the promotion criteria, though. The problem is that processing takes time.”
Only those affiliated with the Tower or holding Gold Rank and above could enter the Blood Magic Tower.
We were still Silver Rank. Even if we attempted a visit, they would never let us through.
Using Duke Morban again wouldn’t work twice over. Raising our rank directly would be faster.
Arkel glanced at his pocket watch—an uncharacteristic show of impatience.
“What troubles me most is that the Request compensation hasn’t been deposited yet. Our losses this time total 288,210,000 Batz.”
Ever since we leased the Silver Blood Bank, Arkel had been in a foul mood. This was the largest expenditure we’d ever made.
I felt the restlessness too, though not over money. What gnawed at me was the time needed for promotion.
With Crimson Red annihilated, the Guardians would move to respond. I wanted to act before they did.
They summoned us today, yet the wait stretches on. They make us linger because of our low rank. I stared hard at the reception room door.
“Arkel. If they don’t pay today, should we burn this place down?”
“…That is a harsh jest, sir.”
“I’m serious.”
If I were twenty years old, I’d already have done it. There was something to be said for getting older.
“Arkel, now that I think about it—regarding money. I’m considering saving up to buy a house.”
“We already own a house, do we not?”
“It feels cramped. I was thinking of purchasing the building next door.”
Our current residence suited us well in location and design. I’d grown rather attached to it, but there was one problem.
We lacked proper space for an interrogation room.
The house where we lived was, charitably speaking, cozy—less charitably, modest.
Which was also why I’d handed the Blood Lord over to Kalan without resistance. There was nowhere to keep him.
Going forward, we’d have ample use for an interrogation room. Beyond that, we needed training space and larger chambers. The house required expansion.
Arkel nodded in understanding, though his tone remained dark.
“I concur. However, the financial burden concerns me.”
“I’m considering taking a loan. Perhaps putting up our current house as collateral?”
Arkel’s expression became as grim as if he’d been handed a life sentence. At that moment, the reception room door opened.
“Balanus Domus, please come in.”
Our turn had finally come. I stepped inside to find a taciturn clerk awaiting us. He handed me a sheet of paper.
“Request completion confirmed. One hundred million Batz will be disbursed today.”
One hundred million. Substantial for Silver Rank, yet it left us in deficit. Arkel’s expression hardened further.
I addressed the clerk directly.
“The Blood Lord’s organization proved stronger than your initial assessment suggested. Our damages were considerable, and we would appreciate additional compensation for the expenses we incurred.”
There were times when a Request proved more demanding than the Management Bureau had anticipated. Technically, that was the Bureau’s error.
If they wanted to maintain good relations with us, they’d provide at least some additional payment.
The clerk’s expression remained unmoved.
“Additional compensation cannot be provided. The Request objective was acquisition of human trafficking evidence, not elimination of Crimson Red itself—”
The clerk faltered abruptly. A chill descended through the room.
It radiated from Arkel. His gaze alone was glacial. Had death come by eyes alone, a corpse would already be cooling.
“Ba-Balanus undertook the dismantling… beyond what was necessary. Therefore, additional compensation cannot be offered.”
The temperature in the room dropped a further two degrees. I spoke up to temper Arkel’s fury as well.
“We were briefed beforehand that neutralizing Crimson Red was the ultimate objective.”
“…….”
“Since we handled that matter for you, it would only be fair to offer additional compensation.”
The employee had no rebuttal. Arkel had eased the pressure slightly—the temperature in the room seemed to have risen by a degree or so.
“Extermination was indeed the objective. But we were also tasked with tracking the human trafficking network.”
The employee continued, rubbing their own arm.
“However, the Blood Lord and all the organization members have gone missing, making it difficult to continue the investigation. Balanus overhandled the situation.”
The temperature dropped by about three degrees.
Before the room could freeze over entirely, I spoke up.
“We can secure organization members for you. If you offer additional compensation, that is.”
“……I understood they’d all scattered.”
“We’re skilled members of the Domus, after all.”
The Blood Lord was taken by Kalan. But we were holding some of the other organization members.
Since they might possess useful information, we’d locked them away at the Silver Blood Bank and squeezed them for days.
There hadn’t been anything useful, but look—it’s proving valuable now. I smiled faintly.
“For around one hundred million, we can bring you organization members.”

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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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