My Disciples Became Scoundrels - Chapter 27

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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 Source is a concentration of Mana. As liquid spills from a shattered vessel, powerful Mana flowed from the broken Source.
My heart hammered wildly. I barely managed to calm the Mana that thrashed within me, still not properly absorbed.
The lights that had crept along the walls were gone now. No more Claybone would be created. But those already born would not vanish on their own.
To aid my disciples, I retraced my steps through the passage. Chezare’s shout grew steadily closer.
“Damn it! I need to get the old man out of here!”
Even as more Claybone poured in, Chezare stood at the vanguard, pummeling them with his fists. Every muscle in his body was tensed to its limit.
The space was too narrow for a spear, it seemed. But with Chezare’s body itself serving as a weapon, he had no real disadvantage in combat.
He hurled a Claybone—one that would be difficult for four grown men to subdue—clear across the cavern.
Jenia showed more finesse than Chezare. Her blade-like tentacles drove repeatedly into the Claybone without mercy.
It was somewhat grotesque to watch those tentacles writhe and tear through the creature’s insides, but the intent was clear enough.
“Ah, so the core is here?”
Once the core was destroyed, the Claybone went limp. Only then did Jenia cast the corpse beyond the cavern’s edge.
It seemed I wouldn’t need to intervene. Shortly after, the two of them hurled the last Claybone into the void below.
Both were caked in dirt, breathing hard. Then Jenia spotted me and hurried over.
“Master, did you break the Source?”
“I did. It’s all finished. You’ve both worked hard. Let’s head back.”
Jenia, holding the Mana Lantern, took the lead as we made our way toward the exit. She stared at me intently as we walked.
“Master, there’s something shiny on you. Something black and shiny.”
“That’s Mana as well.”
“But isn’t Mana supposed to be blue? There’s black Mana too?”
“Yes. Mana comes in many varieties.”
I was about to offer her a fuller explanation when I noticed someone standing in the distance. Chezare’s eyes narrowed.
“Isn’t that Garwen?”
Garwen was bleeding from multiple wounds, but he was alive. He stiffened when he saw us.
His expression shifted from disbelief to burning hatred. He clenched his teeth.
“…You said you didn’t need my blade either.”
Garwen pulled something from his pocket and hurled it toward us. A glinting object flew through the air.
A glass vial. The moment it shattered against the stone, a sharp blast echoed throughout the mine.
—Boom!
The explosion filled the entire passage. He’d thrown an Explosion Potion. Had he prepared it in advance to bury Zike?
—Rumble, rumble…!
The ceiling began to collapse at a terrifying speed. There was no way forward. My disciples tried to pull me back.
“Master!”
“Master! Come back!”
Their voices were urgent, their faces desperate. I knew these voices and expressions well.
When we were invaded, as I lay dying, my disciples had worn exactly these faces.
Their forms glimpsed through blood and dust. Faces twisted with anxiety and fear. I could not bear for them to feel such things again.
I would not let my disciples weep a second time.
I drew my sword. Normally it shimmered with blue Mana, but now that azure glow rippled alongside a pitch-black radiance.
When I destroyed the Source moments before, Black Mana had flowed into me. It now surged through my veins.
The ceiling above me collapses. Stone cascades down. That ceiling seeks to crush my disciples beneath it.
The way to protect my disciples is simple.
I have always eliminated those who sought to harm them.
This time will be no different.
—Boom!
I swung my blade upward toward the ceiling. A pitch-black Sword Slash erupted forth, unleashing a violent shockwave.
The Earth God bleeds black blood. Therefore, Mana infused with his crimson hue wielded tremendous power against earth and stone.
The boulders cascading toward us were forced backward by the shockwave, as if fleeing in terror.
Dust billowed up with the slash. But now there was light. Chezare stared upward in a daze.
“…Is that possible?”
My attack had blown a hole clean through the ceiling of the mine. Above our heads, the night sky spread open.
What rained down upon us was not earth and death, but only the brilliant light of stars.
Having drawn forth all my Mana, my entire body screamed with pain as if flayed raw. But I could not show weakness before my disciples.
Jenia gazed up at the night sky. While my disciples were distracted, I swallowed down the pain and spoke to Jenia.
“Jenia, will you go up first and pull Zike to safety?”
“Yes!”
Using her tentacles, Jenia lifted Zike first, then hoisted the rest of us in turn.
Fresh air reached us at last. Though we were caked in dirt, none of us appeared to have serious wounds. Still, I worried about Zike, who remained deep in sleep.
“Let’s return to the village at once.”
It was then, as I was leading my disciples back toward the mine entrance, that I heard voices.
“Hey, Garwen! What are we supposed to do about this? This isn’t what we agreed to.”
It was the mercenaries and Garwen. They looked as though they’d narrowly escaped death—all of them bore heavy wounds. Garwen spoke with obvious irritation.
“This happened because you lack skill……. Ack!”
Chezare’s fist connected squarely with Garwen’s face, sending him sprawling. He was fast. Chezare grabbed Garwen by the collar and grinned, baring his fangs.
“Well, well. You bastard. Happy to see me again?”
Chezare settled into mount position and began beating Garwen mercilessly. The mercenaries flinched and tried to flee, but it was useless.
“Ahhh! What is this tentacle!”
Jenia’s tentacles wrapped around the mercenaries, restraining them. But her movements were far from the gentle restraint she usually employed. The sound of breaking bones cracked through the air.
“You almost got our master killed.”
“Don’t kill them. The injuries count as self-defense.”
They needed to face punishment, so they couldn’t die. As long as I kept them alive, they’d have nothing to say if a few limbs got broken in the process.
Beneath a starry night sky, their screams echoed across the land. The starlight poured down, beautiful in its abundance.
By now, Garwen’s face was bathed in blood. He mumbled incoherently.
“I’m the victim here……. If Zike had just acknowledged me……. If he hadn’t looked down on me…….”
“What are you babbling about, you lunatic.”
Chezare backhanded Garwen across the face once more. Then he spat on the unconscious man.
“Zike was waiting for you. Waiting until his past became your present. You idiot…….”
* * *
Zike drained the herbal tea in one gulp. Radi, sitting beside him, watched with concern and asked.
“Father, are you alright? Are you coming to your senses now?”
Zike had been frowning, but he nodded. Jenia, seated nearby, spoke up.
“How much do you remember?”
“……I remember everything recent. Garwen kidnapping me, you all rescuing me, Garwen being turned over to the authorities.”
About a week after taking the herbal tea, Zike had regained his wits. Though he didn’t appear particularly happy about it.
Garwen had been imprisoned. Attempted murder was a serious crime, and he would face considerable punishment. But worse than that was the fact that he could no longer live as a blacksmith.
Even if he were released, people would learn that he’d impersonated Zike, and no one would buy weapons from him again.
“Garwen, that bastard……. I never imagined he was capable of such things.”
Zike gripped the cup tightly, as if in pain. His eyes betrayed anger, loss, and self-recrimination.
It seemed Zike had been deeply shaken by his disciple’s betrayal. As a master myself, I understood the wound well.
“If only I had observed him more carefully…….”
Just as Zike was staring into his cup with a melancholic expression, Chezare suddenly approached. Then he brought his hand down hard on Zike’s hunched back with a loud smack.
“Ugh! What was that!”
“Old man, don’t go moping around about your disciple—it’s not my problem.”
Chezare grinned and extended his hand.
“You didn’t forget your promise to make weapons for Balanus, did you?”
Chezare was speaking as though the promise had been made with him. Zike looked at him with exasperation.
“I didn’t make a promise with you. I made it with Dein. I have no weapons for you.”
“What? Who’s asking for my weapon?”
Chezare pointed at me with his thumb.
“This is Dein’s son. Since Dein is dead, couldn’t you forge a sword for his boy?”
I was somewhat surprised by Chezare’s response. I’d assumed he would naturally demand a weapon for himself.
Zike also looked taken aback before turning his gaze toward me.
“Looking at your face, you seem to be Dein’s son indeed. So, do you need a sword?”
“I do need one, but first I’d like to discuss other matters.”
I had come here to fulfill the Countess’s commission. As I explained the situation, Zike deliberated before speaking.
“Ordinarily, I don’t forge weapons for the dead……. But since I’ve come to my senses thanks to you all, I’ll make an exception.”
“Thank you. Please send the bill to the Herbert family.”
“Very well. Given our connection, let’s say two hundred million Bats.”
Two hundred million Bats. For a Zike blade, it was extraordinarily generous. Though his disciples’ eyes went wide.
“Now, since there are details to discuss about the sword, you come along.”
I followed Zike into the Blacksmith Shop. Behind us, I heard the disciples’ voices.
“Brother, isn’t Grandfather overcharging? Something’s fishy.”
“Sharp observation. Could be.”
If they only knew that weapons forged by ordinary craftsmen routinely exceeded one billion Bats.
Zike said it would take about a week for the commissioned weapons to be completed. That was actually quite fast.
A week later, we returned to Zike’s Blacksmith Shop. He greeted us, drenched in sweat.
“There, it’s finished. First, the sword commissioned by the Countess.”
He showed me a single, well-tempered blade. The moment I saw it, I was left breathless.
Over fifteen years, Zike’s skill had only sharpened. The gleaming white blade was both sharp and elegant.
The pommel of the finely wrought bastard sword bore an inscription marking it as Zike’s blade.
“With this, even that woman they call the Countess will be satisfied. Take it.”
He sheathed the sword and handed it to me. Jenia watched with curious eyes, then asked.
“What about other weapons?”
“I’ve prepared those as well. Since I used a special ore, it shouldn’t break under normal circumstances.”
He pulled away the cloth covering the weapon. Chezare’s face grew puzzled.
“Wait—Master, you don’t use a spear?”
It was a spear. A weapon radiating presence as magnificent as the sword he’d just forged, its slender blade alone a masterpiece to behold. Zike handed the spear to Chezare.
“It’s yours. That girl asked me to forge a spear for you.”

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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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