My Disciples Became Scoundrels - Chapter 14

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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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Who were these people? Why were they targeting me?
Such questions arose, but I saw no point in asking. They wouldn’t answer even if I did.
So I would simply draw answers from them with steel.
The enemies had already encircled me in all directions. From four points simultaneously, they rushed forward—all of them sword in hand.
I preferred facing one strong opponent to dealing with a multitude of weak ones. Especially since I’d made an Oath.
They say keeping someone alive and subduing them is harder than killing them outright. Humans thrash and struggle until the very last breath. So yes, it’s harder to spare a life.
But for me, it posed no great difficulty.
Such problems only concerned those with middling experience and strength.
As the enemies rushed toward me, white petals scattered like snow. I deflected the first blade that came at me.
Clang!
The ring of steel cut through the falling petals. I pivoted smoothly, lowering my stance. The pommel of my sword came down hard toward the second attacker’s pelvis.
Severing limbs could lead to death from blood loss. Breaking them wasn’t ideal either. Even with a leg or arm broken, a seasoned fighter finds a way to keep fighting.
But shatter the pelvis or spine—the center and axis of the body—and everything changes. They can’t walk, and crawling becomes impossible.
Crack!
I brought the pommel down hard against the enemy’s pelvis. I expected to feel the sensation of bone shattering, but instead, something felt hollow and wrong.
Normally they would have fallen. Yet the enemy still stood where they were.
Before I could even process the situation, other attacks crashed down upon me. I leaped high between the shafts of moonlight. Between the petals scattering like snowflakes, I caught sight of the enemy below.
They were looking up at me. And then I understood.
They cast no shadows. These weren’t human. They were constructs of magic—or perhaps the puppets of a spirit-summoner.
If that was the case, there was no harm in destroying them. As I fell, I stamped down on one enemy’s shoulder, driving my blade straight through its crown.
Squelch!
Still no sensation of bone or flesh tearing, but unlike before, this was clearly a mortal blow. The enemy dissolved and scattered like smoke. And I understood.
I had fought these things before.
Now that I knew what they were, there was no reason to hold back. I cut down everything that resisted and refused, and the enemies all crumbled into luminous dust and dispersed.
Soon, silence returned to all directions.
The moment the battle ended, I bolted straight for the Inn. These enemies hadn’t been targeting only me. Which meant Cesare was in danger.
I ran like the wind and reached the Inn. The moment I climbed to the second floor, the stench of blood struck me. Cesare without alcohol in his system has limitations in his mobility. If he’d been attacked while sober, the chaos would have—!
“Huh? Master?”
My disciple’s voice called out from the far end of the corridor. I turned around in alarm and found Cesare standing there.
The area around him was riddled with signs of battle. Walls, floors, and doors lay shattered.
Cesare had a would-be attacker by the collar and was beating them mercilessly. His own body was covered in cuts and bruises, yet he appeared unharmed.
Though he was naked.
“Cesare! Are you alright?”
“Yeah. I mean, some crazy bastards came barging in while I was bathing. What the hell?”
“You weren’t drinking, but you managed fine?”
“These pathetic bastards aren’t enough even without alcohol—”
Just then, one remaining attacker lunged at Cesare. His fist came up and drove straight into the attacker’s face.
Bang!
The attacker scattered into luminous dust and vanished. It was a fairly strong enemy, yet Cesare’s expression was as if he’d just swatted an insect.
“Ugh, roach-like bastards. They don’t seem to be human. What the hell are these things?”
“A kind of duplicate created by Mana,” I said. “Mana Doppelgänger, specifically.”
It was a spell used by fairly advanced mages. Though not a common one. To create multiple doppelgängers this strong would require tremendous Mana—easier to just use a different attack spell.
But then I remembered. There was someone I’d met before who favored this kind of duplication magic.
“I think I know who sent them. Come, Cesare.”
“Huh? Yes. Let me get some clothes on first.”
Yet as he said this, Cesare stood there bare as the day he was born, utterly composed. Without thinking, my eyes drifted downward.
…Mm. He’s grown well.
Once we were ready, we rushed out of the Inn immediately. I knew exactly where I was going.
* * *
A crescent moon hung in the sky.
The moonlight pouring over the dark forest lit the surroundings nearly as brightly as day. In the middle of the forest, Gaynack’s Dwelling stood clearly visible.
Gaynack stood in the courtyard. His eyes closed, he slowly turned around.
“You’ve come alive.”
Gaynack’s gaze grew sharper. The figure that emerged from the forest was Dein. Dein’s expression was cold as a blade’s edge.
“Gaynack. I’d heard you were rotting away in prison. With age and that beard grown long, I nearly didn’t recognize you.”
A mage requires many qualities. One of the most essential is the volume of Mana they possess.
No matter how keen one’s intellect or how well one knows complex magical formulae, without sufficient Mana to actualize them, such knowledge is worthless.
For this reason, mages with limited Mana resort to a kind of workaround. They draw upon the Mana of others.
However, this method inflicts extreme agony on the one providing the Mana. In severe cases, it can leave a person broken by Mana depletion.
Gaynack was the type of man who resorted to such methods. The one who abducted children and drained their Mana. The very same man Dein had apprehended and thrown into prison.
Because Gaynack primarily used Mana Doppelgängers to kidnap children, Dein recognized him the moment the attack began.
Whether he’d been released or escaped, Dein didn’t know—but the fact that this filth was loose in the world at all made his blood boil.
Rage churned up from his depths, growing fiercer still when he thought of Jenia, who had been exploited by this creature for fifteen years.
Dein’s eyes blazed with hatred. Gaynack observed him quietly for a moment, then spoke.
“That expression—it’s exactly like your father’s.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb. That face. You must be his son—you look identical to the man who threw me in prison.”
His voice carried the weight of ancient grudge, a hatred aimed at the Dein of years past.
It seemed Gaynack had mistaken him for his father’s child. There was no need to correct him.
“I was disappointed when I failed to kill him in that ambush, but how fortunate that his son has come to me. I brought his disciple here seeking revenge, but my resentment still burns unfulfilled—”
Dein’s grip tightened on his sword hilt. He’d wondered why Gaynack had taken Jenia at all. So it was revenge.
The realization kindled a terrible fire in his eyes. Gaynack’s mouth curved upward.
“You cannot fathom how delighted I am to see you.”
The wind stirred, the air beginning to shimmer with heat. The forest itself seemed to tremble—as if the spirits dwelling there had sensed what was about to unfold.
Then Gaynack felt a presence behind him.
Crash!
A dozen Mana Spears plummeted down before Cesare, who had been charging from behind. But Cesare was not the only target. Lances of Mana also leveled themselves at Dein.
Cesare clicked his tongue in annoyance and retreated. Gaynack widened the distance, his eyes glinting fiercely.
“So you meant to buy time and ambush me? Futile.”
Countless Mana Spears now hovered around Gaynack, ready to fire at the slightest signal. Dein raised his sword and spoke.
“A mere Rank 2 like you shouldn’t have the talent for magic of this caliber.”
Yet the spells Gaynack now wielded required at least Rank 4 to cast.
The vital energy radiating from him was meager. Dein’s eyes glowed with cold realization.
“Three years ago, when you brought that rain—were you drawing Mana from Jenia?”
There was no other explanation for what he was witnessing. Gaynack’s gaze fixed on Dein, unblinking.
“Yes. She was so docile when I promised to help her find Balanus. Such a good child.”
At those words, Dein’s brow twitched. Gaynack let out a low chuckle.
“She grew defiant after a while, so I placed a seal on her.”
……
“Once I suppressed her memories, she became obedient again.”
Had such magic been developed over these fifteen years? Dein’s blood simmered, cold and relentless. Gaynack met his stare directly.
“Your father should be standing here instead of you. What a bitter shame.”
As he spoke, rain fell. Sharp rain, each droplet a spear.
Crash-boom!
Mana Spears rained down like a deluge. Dein and Cesare evaded them, but it did not end. The spears materialized endlessly in the void.
Under the torrential barrage, Cesare’s body bled from multiple wounds. He dodged and grumbled.
“Why isn’t that bastard even Casting?”
Most mages chanted their spells. Speaking the incantation aloud reduced Mana consumption.
Every spell Gaynack wielded was devastatingly powerful, and by omitting the incantation altogether, he was hemorrhaging Mana catastrophically—yet he did not care.
After all, every drop of that Mana flowed from Jenia.
“The more you resist me, the more Jenia suffers. You are killing her with every move you make.”
Dein did not waver at the revolting taunt. He simply weaved through the spears, pressing steadily toward Gaynack.
His gaze bored into Gaynack with unwavering intensity. Gaynack felt his spine crawl.
A blade.
A cutting edge.
Eyes like a sword drenched in blood.
His survival instinct was screaming. The thing before him was not an opponent to be faced—it was a force to be destroyed.
He had to kill it now. He had to eliminate it. Mana Spears alone would not suffice.
Light rippled through his fingers. The air grew sharp and electric. At Gaynack’s gesture, Lightning hurtled toward Dein without mercy.
Crack-boom-flash!
The speed of light itself. No exaggeration whatsoever—the very velocity of photons. Impossible to track with human eyes, impossible for mortal flesh to deny.
If Dein blinked even once, the Lightning would reach him. When he opened his eyes, he would already be charred to ash.
Gaynack blinked.
And in that instant—
Whish-crack!
Light split asunder.
With a single stroke of his blade, the Lightning cleaved perfectly in half. Beyond the scattering radiance, Dein stood.
Watching the dissipating shards of light, Gaynack froze in shock.
‘He cut through Lightning?’
It required exceptional dynamic vision—and the overwhelming swordsmanship skill to back it up. Only such a feat was possible.
Yet despite unleashing that miracle of an attack, Dein’s expression remained composed. No—that temperate word could not capture what lay before them.
Beneath the mask of blankness, hatred rippled like heat off scorched earth. Moonlight caught the corner of his eye and burned there, fierce and sharp. His golden irises flickered with a fury that outshone lightning itself.
Those eyes were fixed on Gaynack.
Gaynack bit his lips until blood ran, drawing Mana from Jenia. Magic of every conceivable kind surged toward them both. Yet it meant little.
Each time Dein’s blade swung, the spells withered and died.
With each magic’s funeral rite, he drew closer to Gaynack. Slowly perhaps, but never halting. As death itself does not stop.
Death.
Gaynack summoned the word and ground his teeth. He wanted, by his own will, to tear himself asunder—yet could not. He let out a roar.
“Jenia! Come and fight!”
The door to the building burst open. Jenia shot forward from her stance, Tentacles already drawn. She spoke without inflection.
“Yes, Master.”

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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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