My Disciples Became Scoundrels - Chapter 39

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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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The color drained from Gaston’s face. All the metal lost its form, and the Bracelet at his wrist gleamed pathetically.
The metal infused with his Magical Power had melted away. In other words, Arkel’s mastery of magic surpassed his own.
Yet he composed himself just as quickly, his expression turning cold. A quiet fury flickered in those icy silver-gray eyes.
“Fifteen years hiding your true strength? It won’t change the outcome. Raising temperatures in this weather—even you’ll find it drains your reserves.”
He was right. The Magical Power loss was far greater than when freezing; the demand was punishing.
Gaston’s smile turned leisurely, almost casual.
“Which comes faster—melting you down, or killing you outright? Shall we find out?”
He began casting through Hand Seal Casting. The very earth and sky trembled. The weapons that had slumped and fallen began to sharpen their edges once more.
“Arkel, fall back!”
The voice gave him pause. As Daine rushed forward, knocking aside the descending blades, Arkel finally retreated.
“I can handle this alone.”
“Don’t talk nonsense. You have a range limit too, if I’m not mistaken.”
One meter. That was the radius within which Arkel could direct his power. To truly face Gaston, he’d have to close that distance and fight hand-to-hand.
Already his breathing had grown ragged from the heavy Magical Power drain. Daine stepped forward.
“I’ll handle the front line. You keep to support—Cold Magic, minimal use. That’s all.”
He didn’t wait for Arkel’s answer before charging ahead. A bitter north wind howled across the ice, the earth frozen solid beneath.
The Northern Region itself was Daine’s enemy. Yet he never faltered. He parried blades and volleys alike, dodging the cascading spells.
When one magic he couldn’t avoid came screaming toward him—
Clang!
An Ice Spear collided with it. Shards of ice scattered, caught by the wind. Iron spikes erupting from the ground were caught in the frozen surface.
Arkel was sprinting behind Daine, matching his pace. Daine could feel it—a chill down his spine as though his back might freeze, yet a heat threatening to burn through it all.
As long as that temperature held, there was nothing to fear, no reason to stop.
“Lowborn rabble, working together so well…”
Gaston gritted his teeth and pressed his palm against the earth. Magical Power flooded outward, and an iron barrier erupted skyward.
Crash!
It was no mere wall. It rose to cover Daine’s head entirely, forming a hemispherical cage. Too thick—even Arkel couldn’t melt it instantly.
If the prison finished forming, it would be over. The moment Arkel tried to melt the metal, Daine inside would be consumed by the heat and perish.
That was when Daine cried out.
“Arkel! My blade—!”
His voice was swallowed by the storm, the rest lost to the wind. Yet Arkel understood what he meant.
He was Daine Balanus’s first disciple, after all.
In an instant, Daine’s sword blade burned crimson—not hot enough to melt, but lethal against cold iron.
Simultaneously, Arkel began cooling the barrier to its absolute limit. The moment the red blade struck the white-frozen iron wall—
Screech!
A sound like shattering glass tore across the Snowy Plain. The thermal shock hit both sides with brutal force, but it was Gaston’s barrier that shattered like fragments.
Between the pieces of the shredded iron wall, Daine’s golden eyes gleamed. The blade flashed in the mirror of Gaston’s widening, shocked pupils.
Slash!
The blade severed Gaston’s fingers. As he screamed and crumpled, Daine drew out the Shackles.
The same ones he’d worn moments before. The moment they clamped around Gaston’s wrists, his Magical Power sealed.
The guards flinched at the sight. As they moved to save their commander, Daine raised his blade.
“Move, and I’ll kill him.”
The cold edge of the sword pressed against Gaston’s throat. In the silence that followed, Gaston’s voice rang out, steady and unshaken.
“Kill me? If you meant to, you’d have done it already. Daine, you have another purpose.”
He was right.
Daine’s true goal was to buy Arkel time to escape. Gaston shouted his command.
“Seize them both immediately! This one won’t kill me.”
At his firm order, the guards began slowly closing in on Daine. And it was then—as Arkel, even in a state of Magical Power depletion, sharpened the edge of his power—that a deep, heavy sound came from the direction of the barrier.
Boom!
A massive iron gate was blown open. Through the gap, a dark silhouette appeared. A guard spoke, bewilderment crossing his face.
“The Night Watch? How did they—?”
The Night Watch was the king’s direct unit, created to root out corruption. Then a light voice called from among the prisoners.
“Phew, thought we’d freeze to death out there. I have to say, our uniforms really are something special.”
Matteo pushed through the crowd of prisoners. By now he too wore a black coat over his prisoner’s garb.
“Quite the reputation we’re earning here. You really should’ve arrived sooner, all of you.”
“We came as fast as the Translocation Magic would carry us. The situation’s developed differently than the intelligence suggested.”
“Well, we’ve acquired an ally.”
Matteo winked at Daine with a grin. Meanwhile, a member of the Night Watch looked down at Gaston with cold disdain.
“Warden Gaston. We might have overlooked your sale of the Core, the unlawful profit. But murdering fourteen people—you won’t escape that.”
“Do you have proof?”
“Would I commit such an act without proof?”
Daine informed Matteo of Gaston’s crimes and asked him to clear his name of the false charges.
That alone would have sufficed. But it seemed Matteo had gone further. Summoning the Night Watch itself was proof of that.
“Gaston, the warden, is being taken into custody. Drag him away.”
Gaston staggered to his feet. Even as blood dripped steadily from his severed fingers, the light in his eyes refused to dim.
“Arkel, I know your true nature well. You are a murderer. In the end, you will return to this place…….”
—Bang!
Matteo smashed his fist against Gaston’s skull. When the man didn’t lose consciousness at once, he struck him several more times.
“These nobility types always have so much to say. Can’t even read the room. Can they?”
“Did you forget your leader is a nobleman?”
“I’ve never forgotten. I think about it every day.”
Matteo kicked the unconscious Gaston and flashed a grin.
“Let’s take him away.”
As the Night Watch dragged the unconscious Gaston toward the prison, the guards and inmates began to move as well.
Everyone departed. Now only Daine and Arkel remained on the Snowy Plain.
A reunion with his dead master after fifteen years. Yet Arkel could not meet his gaze.
“……Master.”
Only when Daine called his name through the blizzard did Arkel finally believe it. This was truly his master.
“Forgive me.”
Arkel’s voice trembled—fragile, on the verge of shattering.
“I attacked you without recognizing you.”
“Arkel, it’s all right.”
“I failed to protect my siblings…….”
Guilt lodged in his throat. Even breathing became difficult. He bowed his head—like a condemned man.
“I thought I had protected them. I tried to shield the disciples you cherished so dearly, and yet…….”
His voice broke. Tears fell, but froze before reaching his chin. Frozen tears clung to his cheeks.
He had wanted to live up to the name of Balanus, to prove himself worthy as the master’s disciple. Instead, he had failed at everything. His fifteen years meant nothing.
He had no face to show his master. A pitiful disciple who had protected nothing. His throat tightened until no words would come.
Then Daine approached. His hand touched Arkel’s cold cheek. The frozen tears melted at the faint warmth. Daine’s voice reached him.
“You too are my precious disciple who deserves to be protected, Arkel.”
The same voice as fifteen years before. The same gaze. The same smile.
Daine’s hand grew wet with tears. He wiped the boy’s cheeks again and again as he spoke.
“You’ve endured much hardship, Arkel. Now let us go. Your siblings are waiting for you.”
Arkel remained silent for a long while before finally managing a single nod. Tears continued to fall. But this time, they did not freeze.
Spring after fifteen years.
The end of a long, endless winter—a thaw that had seemed never to come.
8. Reunion
Behind them, the iron gate closed with a cold, hollow sound. The winter wind still bit fiercely, yet stepping beyond the prison walls felt like drawing a first free breath.
The Fur Cloak draped over Arkel’s shoulders fluttered softly in the breeze. Gazing up at the colossal barrier of Frost Prison, he murmured.
“……I never thought I would leave this place.”
Sentences in Frost Prison did not shorten. Arkel had resigned himself to spending his final days here.
“You’ll never need to return to a place like this now. The Night Watch has settled your affairs as well.”
A fortnight had passed since Gaston’s arrest. In that time, much had happened.
The truth emerged: Gaston was the killer from fifteen years ago. Arkel testified to the facts. Decisive evidence was also recovered from Gaston’s associates.
Orders instructing them to forge letters, severed fingers from Gaston’s victims—incriminating relics. His subordinates hadn’t confessed willingly, but had made a deal with the Night Watch, or so they said.
The result: Gaston was sentenced to Stripping of Titles, confiscation of property, and Life Imprisonment in Frost Prison. The inmates he had once scorned seemed certain to make his final days quite unpleasant.
Arkel was freed, and I too was released through the contact of the Countess.
Watching Arkel still gaze awkwardly at the barrier, I nudged him and began walking toward the village. I spoke to my disciple, who followed in silence.
“Your siblings have already arrived at the Northern Village. They couldn’t wait for you to come to the city.”
Upon hearing the news of your release, they set out by carriage immediately, he had been told. Arkel hesitated before finally opening his mouth.
“I have no face to show my siblings.”
“You tried your best.”
“No, I’m sorry, Master. I should have done better…….”
“How many times is that today?”
Arkel paused to think, then answered seriously.
“The twelfth time.”
So he had been counting.
Over those two weeks, Arkel had bowed before me countless times in apology—for failing to protect his siblings, for attacking me. He had tormented himself with guilt.
“Master, please strike me, I beg you. I cannot simply move forward like this.”
He had knelt and pleaded like that. And Matteo, passing by, had witnessed it.
“Arkel, since when do you have those tastes? I thought you were the one who liked to hit. I knew you had a special relationship with Daine, but this…”
“It is a special relationship.”
We’d managed to clear up the misunderstanding, at least. After a stern lecture, Arkel stopped asking for physical punishment. Though he seemed to regret that.
As we walked, a village began to come into view. Being at the very edge of the Northern Region, it wasn’t particularly large.
“There’s the village. Though…”
Something was rushing toward us from the distance with tremendous speed.
It was Cesare and Jenia. We’d arranged to meet at the inn, but they couldn’t wait.
“Master!”
“Big brother!”
Both of them threw their arms around Arkel and me at once. I thought my ribs would crack. They seemed even stronger than when we’d last met.
They must have been standing outside for quite some time—both had red ears and noses from the cold. Jenia chattered away.
“We were so worried about you and big brother. Thank goodness you made it out. It’s been such a long time.”
“That bastard Gaston put you through hell, didn’t he? What happened to him? You killed him, right?”
I’d sent letters with the rough outline of events, but there was still so much to tell. Through it all, Arkel said nothing.
“I appreciate your joy, but let us breathe for a moment. Arkel looks shocked too.”
I felt like my ribs were cracking. At those words, both of them scrambled backward. Arkel stared at them with a dazed expression.
“So this is Cesare, and this is Jenia?”
“That’s right. Jenia looks much like she did when she was small, but Cesare’s grown quite a bit, hasn’t he?”
“Yes, he’s grown considerably.”
The last Cesare that Arkel remembered would have been twelve—a fearful, weepy child.
Now the fully grown Cesare, looking almost like a brigand, suddenly wrapped his arms around Arkel’s shoulders. A cocky grin on his face.
“I really did turn out well, didn’t I? Come on, let’s go. Let’s get a drink and talk.”
“Big brother, I told the restaurant to prepare something delicious. Let’s hurry.”
Jenia grabbed Arkel’s hand and tugged him forward, with Cesare attaching himself to the other side. It looked as though they were escorting him rather than the other way around.
Arkel didn’t resist. Throughout the walk, he simply gazed around with an expression of wonder.
The restaurant was quite busy with patrons. Cheerful laughter echoed from all sides as Jenia picked up the menu.
“Big brother, you didn’t eat properly in there, did you? What would you like?”
Arkel took the menu and opened it, then his shoulders stiffened. His face grew uncomfortable.
“Water is sufficient for me.”
“That can’t be right. What’s wrong, Arkel?”
Arkel hesitated, then spoke. His hands trembled as he held the menu.
“It’s far too… expensive. Roasted chicken is 15,000 baht? That’s the price of slaying 150 monsters.”
Hearing those words felt like my heart was being torn from my chest. I remembered him then—painstakingly gathering pennies after each monster he killed.
His sense of currency had been shattered, my disciple.
How much suffering must he have endured for it to come to this?

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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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