My Disciples Became Scoundrels - Chapter 24

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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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“We must use the past as nourishment, yet never allow ourselves to be consumed by it…….”
Watching Chejare murmur the words aloud, I could tell yesterday’s special lecture had done some good. Philosophy begins with understanding the past, after all.
As I walked with the muttering Chejare, our destination came into view. An elderly man sat outside the Blacksmith Shop.
It was Zik. In my memory, he’d been middle-aged; now he was in his sixties.
Yet time had left certain things unchanged. His body was solidly built with muscle from countless hours of hammer-work, and scars from old burns marked his skin in places.
I recognized him, though I doubted he would recognize me. When I lowered my head lightly in greeting, Zik turned his gaze toward me.
“Good day to you. I’ve come seeking the Master Craftsman Zik.”
Zik stared at me, then shot up from his seat as if startled.
“You came back…….”
He spoke as though addressing someone he’d been waiting for a long time. Could he have recognized me?
Then Zik suddenly pulled me into his arms. His voice trembled with emotion as he cried out.
“You came back!”
You?
The bewildering address startled both me and my disciples. Those weren’t words you’d expect from a man in his sixties.
Besides, I wasn’t his anything. If anything, I was his senior.
“You came back! Zik has waited so long for you! Why did you take so long? Come on, let’s go buy some candy!”
Then someone emerged from the Blacksmith Shop. A woman who appeared to be in her thirties blocked Zik’s way.
“Oh, Dad! Not again. Please let the customer go!”
“Sister, give me candy.”
“You’re Radi! Look, I’ll give you candy, just let the customer go!”
The woman called Radi pressed candy into his hand, and only then did Zik release me. The way he focused on the candy made him look exactly like a five-year-old.
……What on earth had happened to Zik?
Radi let out a long sigh, then bowed to me with weary eyes.
“I apologize. Our father startled you, didn’t he? Are you a customer?”
“I am Dain Balanus. I’ve come seeking to purchase a sword.”
Radi’s expression changed in surprise upon hearing my name.
“Are you Master Balanus?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“I can hardly believe you’ve returned…… My father spoke so gratefully of you. I too was saved by you when I was small.”
Now that she mentions it, I do recall. A tiny girl who used to follow me around. So that small child had grown into this.
Radi’s expression brightened, but sadness crept into her eyes.
“I wish Father could have greeted you himself. Now he doesn’t even recognize his guests.”
“It’s no matter. What happened to cause Master Craftsman to become this way?”
“He’s developed dementia.”
Dementia.
Zik, who had forged countless exquisite blades and drew both jealousy and admiration from other smiths—now afflicted with dementia.
Meanwhile, Jenia was petting Zik curiously, her face twitching with the urge to extend her tendrils.
Beyond my sadness, I felt troubled. The Countess wanted a sword from Master Craftsman Zik.
Glancing back, I saw Chejare’s face had gone pale with shock. His shadows seemed to have deepened somehow.
“This…… what are you saying? I attended the lecture all night.”
He looked as though he’d lost everything. Chejare approached Zik with threatening intensity.
“Old man! You’re not always like this, are you? You do come back to your senses sometimes, right? Stop eating that candy!”
“Wahhh, that one scares me……!”
Zik shrank back weakly and began to cry. Watching a ruffian bully an old man gave me a splitting headache.
I grabbed Chejare by the ear and bowed apologetically to Zik and Radi.
“I apologize. This one has a fondness for the Master Craftsman’s weapons. Might you have any already completed?”
“They’ve all sold. Sometimes when his mind clears, he makes things, but…… I can’t be certain.”
It was a complete mess. I needed to report the situation to the client first. I swallowed a sigh and spoke to Radi.
“Thank you for your patience. Do you happen to know where the Post Office is?”
We moved to the Post Office. I sent a Magical Message Orb to the Countess, informing her that Zik was unable to take on work.
Before long, a reply came back: ‘No other sword will do. I need Zik’s sword.’
“The Countess still wants Zik’s sword.”
“Then should we find whoever bought Grandfather Zik’s sword? We could just take it from them and bring it to her, couldn’t we?”
I answered Jenia’s innocent yet violent suggestion calmly.
“We can’t take it.”
“Taking it would be fastest.”
“Fast way to end up in prison, that would be. If we proceed, we’ll have to purchase it—but I doubt many would sell their prized blade so easily.”
I wouldn’t part with my own sword readily, after all. Meanwhile, Chejare remained deflated.
Judging by how he’d nearly deserted the lecture multiple times last night before returning, he’d clearly been anticipating a new weapon greatly.
Then Chejare raked his fingers through his hair and his eyes flew wide open.
“Why’s that old man gone senile…! This kind of thing gets fixed with a good beating! A single blow’s supposed to cure everything!”
“By that logic, your alcoholism should’ve been cured long ago.”
I’d managed to calm Chejare down, but I was troubled myself. Diseases born of age couldn’t be healed by magic—
“Let’s go back to the Blacksmith Shop. I have some questions for Radi.”
She’d mentioned that Zik sometimes came to his senses and worked. I was curious how often he actually did.
When we returned, Zik was still sitting outside the shop. He greeted us with a bright smile, tossing a small stone up and down in a game of jacks.
“Oh, brother! You came back! Do the lift-me-high! Do the lift-me-high!”
The lift-me-high. I’d done it for my disciples when they were young.
But I wasn’t certain my current strength could manage it. Zik seemed to weigh nearly as much as Chejare.
That was when Chejare hoisted Zik up in one swift motion.
“Come on, old man—I’ll lift you a hundred times if it’ll bring you back to your senses!”
“Higher, higher! Brother, higher!”
A bright, childish laugh rang out. As Zik was lifted, his palate came briefly into view.
“Chejare. Keep holding him. Zik, open wide and say ‘ahh.'”
Zik complied without question. The more I looked, the clearer it became: his hard palate was dotted with small blue patches.
My former colleague—who had once trained Balanus—had been deeply learned in medicine and herbalism. Through him, I’d picked up considerable knowledge from watching and listening.
Just then, Radi emerged from inside the shop. She smiled warmly at the sight of Zik suspended in the air.
“Oh my, you’re keeping Father entertained. But sir—why do you look so serious?”
“I have some knowledge of medicine, so I examined Zik’s condition. This may not be senility after all.”
“Really? Then what is it?”
Radi asked, her tone sharp with alarm. I pointed to Zik’s mouth and spoke.
“Do you see the blue patches on his hard palate? Those are symptoms of Mong-a Disease.”
Radi looked bewildered, as if hearing the name for the first time. There was an undertone of distress in her expression.
“Mong-a Disease returns the patient’s mind to childhood, but it can be treated.”
“Really? Truly? How do I treat it?”
“Brew a tea from certain herbs and have him take it consistently. For now, please purchase these herbs from the Herb Shop.”
“Of course, yes!”
I listed the names of several herbs, and Radi rushed off in a flurry. Jenia’s eyes lit up as she turned to me.
“Wow, there’s a disease like that? I had no idea. That’s the first I’ve heard of it.”
I didn’t sense anyone nearby, but I still whispered low to my disciples.
“No wonder you haven’t—I made it up. This isn’t a disease at all. It’s poisoning. Someone’s been feeding Zik poison.”
Mong-a Poison takes at least half a year of consistent administration before it takes effect.
So whoever poisoned Zik was almost certainly someone close to him—family or a daily companion.
“I’ll treat Zik for a week. Guard him closely during that time. Once he starts improving, the culprit may try to harm him. Also, ask Zik about Candy.”
“Candy? Why?”
Jenia tilted her head, puzzled.
“Because Mong-a Poison is sweet-tasting. That’s why it’s usually mixed into sweet things.”
I’d noticed Zik had an unusual craving for Candy. But I didn’t trust asking Radi about it directly.
In the meantime, Radi returned with the herbs. Her face was bright with the joy of finally being able to heal her father.
“You said to brew it as a tea, yes? Please come this way. I’ll show you to the kitchen.”
I glanced at my disciples, and both of them positioned themselves on either side of Zik. A reassuring sight.
I followed Radi into the shop. Just then, metal clanged against metal with a sharp ring.
A young man sat at the anvil. He looked to be in his mid-twenties and was dressed as a blacksmith. Radi spoke to him.
“Garwen! This person told me something wonderful. Father doesn’t have senility after all. He has a disease—!”
“A disease? And who exactly is this person?”
Radi explained in detail, but Garwen’s expression grew steadily darker. He fixed me with a suspicious look.
“I can’t trust the word of a stranger. And I won’t have our Master drink some unknown brew.”
Garwen displayed strong wariness. Radi, caught between us, stammered nervously in an attempt to mediate.
“It’s just herbs. And Father said Balanus people are trustworthy.”
“How do you know these people are actually Balanus?”
Garwen’s objection was reasonable. I pulled out my Metal Badge and showed it to him.
“We’re officially registered with the administrative office. You’re welcome to verify through them.”
Seeing the badge, Garwen’s suspicion eased somewhat—though his wariness remained plainly visible.
“After you brew that tea, you drink it first. I won’t have our Master given anything suspicious.”
With that, Garwen left. Radi apologized softly.
“I’m sorry. He’s just protective—it’s only out of concern.”
“I understand. Don’t worry. Three times a day for about a week should show some improvement. I’ll make sure he gets it.”
If the culprit was one of these two, they’d show their hand eventually. Protecting Zik carefully over the next week—that would be the key.
* * *
Four days had passed since I arrived in Zik’s Village. During that time, I’d been brewing Herbal Tea three times a day without fail.
While I was steeping the herbs in the kitchen, Zik’s voice called out from near the Blacksmith Shop entrance.
“Jenia! Let’s play house, let’s play house!”
Spending the entire day with them seemed to have opened Zik’s heart somewhat toward his disciples.
Though his mind hadn’t truly returned even once. According to Radi, he becomes lucid for about a day each month.
“Damn it, how much longer do I have to put up with these kids’ games?”
“Come on, play with us too! Jenia can be the princess. You can just be a mercenary.”
“I’ve already retired from being a mercenary. Make me the emperor instead.”
Chejare and Jenia were faithfully protecting Zik. Thanks to their vigilance, no one had made a move against him.
No one came after me either. For my part, I’d welcomed an attack, but our enemies remained quiet.
That was when Garwen stepped into the kitchen. His eyes shone with a quiet, keen brightness.

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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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