My Disciples Became Scoundrels - Chapter 38

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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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An Immediate Execution Order had been issued for Arkel. The enemy was essentially the entire prison population.
With his strength, Arkel could stand against hundreds without falling. But if his mana was restricted, the outcome became uncertain.
And whether he was captured or escaped, both outcomes were problems. Captured meant execution; escaped meant becoming a permanent escapee. Either way, darkness awaited Arkel.
Then a tremendous voice boomed across the Snowy Plain. It sounded like Sound Amplification Magic.
“[All inmates return to the prison! To whoever kills the escapee Sertum…….]”
It had begun. When I returned to the prison entrance, prisoners were packed there like a swarm.
Some gleamed with excitement in their eyes, while others hesitated. That’s when Mateo waved his hand at me.
“Dein! Did you hear? The one called Sertum just……. Argh!”
I pulled Mateo close and whispered in his ear.
“Mateo, I have a favor to ask.”
“What is it?”
“You’ve been investigating Gaston, haven’t you? The letter was written in mana.”
Mateo’s expression changed. Sharp wariness surfaced. I opened my mouth in a low voice.
“I have no intention of reporting that fact, so rest assured.”
“Why?”
“The enemy of my enemy is my ally.”
Beyond the open door, the sound of wind howled. I gripped Mateo’s hand firmly.
“I’ll cooperate in capturing Gaston. In return, I need you to cooperate with me as well.”
* * *
Snow began to fall across the long trail of footprints stretching across the Snowy Plain. The snowfall grew heavier by the moment.
Despite the worsening weather, Arkel did not stop running. His shins sank deep into the drifts with each stride.
Both his manacled wrists were smeared with red blood—the guard’s blood. His blood-soaked hands were freezing over, yet he seemed to feel no cold.
‘I have to reach Bella.’
From the moment he decided to be imprisoned in the Frost Prison in Gaston’s place, he had sworn never to show his face before his younger siblings again until the day he died.
Because they could not have a brother who was a criminal, an eldest son who had abandoned his family without a shred of responsibility. Let them remember him that way—that was enough.
But the letter said Bella was dying. It also said she could be saved if they had the Dragon Heart.
‘If it’s me, I can kill a dragon. I can save Bella.’
After obtaining the Dragon Heart, he planned to return to the Frost Prison. He might face execution, but he didn’t care.
‘My master is gone now.’
So as the eldest, he had to protect his younger siblings.
Then suddenly, that man came to mind. The con artist who impersonated Dein’s son. Siblings gone missing? That was ridiculous.
‘Fifteen years of letters can’t all be forgeries.’
Yet somehow that man nagged at him. Was it because he resembled his master in appearance? Or…….
Then a shout echoed from far behind. The distance was steadily closing. He tried to pick up speed, but the weight of the snowdrifts clinging to his legs was too heavy.
‘If only I could use mana, I would have escaped long ago.’
Meanwhile, one presence in particular was approaching unusually fast—as if gliding across the snowfield itself.
He didn’t know who it was, but he could tell they were formidable. Still, he had to fight. No matter what form it took, he had to get out of here.
“Arkel!”
When he looked back, there was a familiar face. Dein’s son. The man who resembled his master perfectly.
Could he win with his mana sealed? No—he had to win. The moment Arkel took up a fighting stance.
“Don’t stop! Keep running! Faster!”
Dein seized Arkel and began running furiously. Arkel looked at him in shock.
“Why are you helping me?”
“Because if you’re caught, you’ll die. Now that things have come to this, you must escape no matter what!”
There was no question that if Arkel surrendered or returned in this situation, he would be executed. Even as he ran, Arkel did not lower his guard.
“Tell me the real reason you’re helping.”
“Because I’m your master.”
“What?”
He had barely been able to believe the claim of being his son, but Dein himself? It was nonsense. Yet Dein’s expression was grave.
“We’ll talk about the details later. Just run for now. I’ll definitely get you out. Your siblings are waiting for you.”
That firm tone reminded him of his master. But Arkel knew—he was already dead.
Arkel spoke with a gaze still cold and piercing.
“If you’re going to help, cut my wrist with that sword. Then I can remove the Mana Restraint Device.”
“Absolutely not.”
Dein still had a youthful face with traces of boyishness. Yet his eyes burned with a deep and fierce gold light.
“I would sooner cut my own wrist than have my master draw his sword against his disciple.”
Arkel’s expression hardened. For a moment, his master came to mind—the one who had taken on attacks meant for his disciples with his entire body.
It couldn’t be. His master was dead. But those eyes really did seem to be Dein’s. What if, against all odds, it was true…….
“……Is it true that my siblings have gone missing?”
“That’s right. The warden killed Brandon and forged the letter.”
Cracks splintered through eyes that had been frozen like ice. If Brandon was dead, then who had been looking after his younger siblings?
“Cesare and Jenia are outside. Just focus on meeting those two. Your siblings are waiting for you.”
Cesare and Jenia. It was the first time in ages he’d heard those names spoken aloud. A reason to survive had been reborn.
Arkel began running toward the Gate. The wind raged fiercer with each step. Snow whipped and howled through the air.
Through the blizzard, the Gate seemed to shimmer in the distance. Then—a sharp surge of power flew at him from behind.
―Screech!
A Mana Sphere. Dein shattered it and spun around to find prisoners and guards converging from all directions.
Dein fixed the enemies with a cold stare and spoke.
“Run, Arkel. I’ll hold them here. Once you reach Aspenheim, your siblings are there.”
Arkel couldn’t speak as he watched that back receding. Then a guard shouted.
“Why is that bastard Dein over there? Is he a conspirator too?”
“He’s betrayed us. Activate the Mana Restraint Device!”
Before the words had finished, Dein’s shackles blazed with light. The mana that had wrapped around his blade began draining away steadily.
“Go, Arkel.”
The enemies waited for the moment Dein’s mana would be completely suppressed. Nearly a hundred strong. Arkel cried out toward his back.
“Your mana’s sealed, and you’re telling me to escape alone? Are you trying to die by yourself?”
“Perhaps.”
Dein simply laughed silently. In that moment, his mana vanished without a trace.
“Fire!”
The guards raised their crossbows and fired in unison. A wind so fierce it seemed to strip flesh from bone swept across them. Crossbow bolts rained down, carried on that gale.
And then a whiteout consumed everything. The blizzard was so thick that nothing lay visible even inches ahead.
And Dein shattered that white silence.
―Crack!
Each swing of his blade split the north wind. The broken bolts were swept away uselessly on the gale.
Dein’s form appeared and vanished repeatedly, swallowed by the whiteout. A chilling golden gaze flickered through. He was already in front of a guard.
“Ugh…!”
The guard desperately swung his blade, but Dein was no longer there. He’d already widened the distance in an instant.
―Click.
A ring of keys jangled in Dein’s palm. The shackles fell open. The guard’s pocket where he’d carried the keys was torn to shreds.
“When did you—?”
Dein didn’t answer. Instead, he hurled the keys toward where Arkel stood.
“Unlock them yourself and get out of here.”
Dein plunged back into the blizzard. Whenever magic came crashing down, his form flashed visible between the white gusts of snow.
―Slash!
While Dein severed and shattered the bodies of his enemies, not one of them could touch him. Even the wind itself couldn’t match his speed.
Whether dozens or hundreds—it didn’t matter. Even if he couldn’t kill them all, it was enough to buy time.
“Holding back this many alone. Impressive.”
A man walked through the north wind. The chaos ceased. A low, oppressive voice rang out.
“But how do you plan to stop me?”
The earth trembled. No—it wasn’t just the earth.
The prisoners’ weapons shook, the guards’ armor creaked. Everything made of metal was quivering.
A violent criminal shrieked. His blade thrashed of its own accord, his wrist snapping.
The swords and spears of the prisoners rebelled against their masters and aligned in midair. All metal bent to Gaston’s will.
Only Dein’s blade refused to yield. The overwhelming force radiating from Gaston revealed his rank.
A 5th Rank pressure. Yet Dein charged at Gaston undaunted. Blades barred his path.
―Clang!
Dein swung his sword. He parried, bounced them away, cut through them. The sharp, furious ring of metal screamed like an anguished wail.
A hundred blades flew at him. In the instant Dein twisted to evade like an acrobat, he felt something beneath his feet.
―Whoosh!
Iron spikes shot up from the ground. Dein’s thigh was pierced through; blood poured freely. His blood-soaked clothes froze solid in an instant.
“The soil of the Northern Region is saturated with iron. That means this entire north is my domain.”
Gaston’s laugh was bitter and cruel. Iron spikes erupted from the ground again in succession, ready to skewer Dein—
―Bang!
Beneath Dein’s feet, ice formed like a shield, thick enough that metal couldn’t pierce it. Along with the glacial chill came a voice.
“I still don’t know who you are.”
He turned. It was Arkel. He approached, commanding winter far fiercer than the north wind itself.
“But I can’t run away.”
Silver-grey eyes fixed on Dein.
“My master never taught me how to live like a coward.”
By then Arkel’s wrists had broken free. At his gesture, countless Ice Spears materialized.
More than Gaston had ever conjured. Ice spears thickened across the sky, hurtling toward him.
And in that instant.
—Shaaaa…!
Every Ice Spear evaporated into white mist. As though nothing had happened at all.
“I have spent fifteen years preparing for you, Arkel.”
Through the dissipating vapor, Gaston raised his bracelet-adorned wrist. A crimson jewel pulsed like a heartbeat.
“Against every contingency, I have already made arrangements. Your Ice Magic is no longer a threat to me.”
Intense mana radiated from the crimson jewel—a Magical Artifact designed to forcibly dispel Ice Magic.
As Gaston took another step forward, the ice shield protecting Dein began to crumble.
“Crumble like your ice, Arkel.”
Once more, metal weapons aligned in the air. Every mana-infused blade carried lethal intent.
Yet Arkel’s eyes remained cold. No tremor crossed his face—neither shock nor despair, though his attack had been shattered.
Instead, he charged toward Gaston, plunging between the blades.
Gaston’s brow furrowed. Recklessness? No—something was wrong.
With each step Arkel took, the temperature around them shifted. As if a summer sun had risen.
—Shrieeek…!
An eerie sound split the air. A guard screamed and flinched. Blades suspended in emptiness began to melt like water, streaming away.
“What—what is this? Why are the weapons melting?”
The same thing happened everywhere. Metal weapons flowed downward like liquid, carried on waves of hot steam.
“You are mistaken, Warden Gaston.”
Heat shimmer rose from Arkel’s body. Not cold, but warmth surrounded him.
“What I command is not water or ice.”
The moment snowflakes touched him, they vaporized to white. In Arkel’s eyes burned a cold flame.
“Temperature itself.”

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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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