My Disciples Became Scoundrels - Chapter 4

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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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Chezare’s jaw stopped mid-chew when he heard the proposal. The “brigand” the Tavern Master spoke of was almost certainly the man who’d called himself Dain.
A commission from the Tavern Master—the one who’d seized Balanus Domus. Chezare didn’t like it. Sensing his hesitation, the mercenary added a word.
“Two hundred thousand Bats per head. You’re only dealing with one man, so it’ll be over quick, yeah?”
Two hundred thousand Bats.
The man claiming to be Dain had said he’d give five hundred thousand if he came looking for Chezare, but unsolicited kindness made him uneasy.
This way felt cleaner—a straightforward exchange. Chezare picked at the bread, then tossed the last piece into his mouth.
“Fine. Let’s go. What time do we muster?”
Either way, he had nothing to do with Balanus anymore. The Tavern Master was the employer? So what.
That man claiming to be his master—irrelevant. The dead don’t come back anyway. Just some con artist who happens to look vaguely familiar.
Thinking as much, Chezare began preparing for the commission. He considered having a drink before they left, then thought better of it.
Instead of his usual spear, he took the wooden staff. The Tavern Master had said to cripple the man, not kill him.
So off they went—thirty mercenaries or so—toward Balanus Domus. Or the Tavern, rather. The moon lit their path, and an inexplicable unease clung to him like a hangover.
Even as he tried to shake it off, the destination came into view.
Once, he’d thought to save up and reclaim it. But that was a hollow dream.
Balanus is gone now. It fell. That place is a graveyard. A ruin.
So it doesn’t matter what happens there. With that thought, just as Chezare turned toward Balanus Domus—
—Creeeak……
The hinges groaned as the door swung open.
What emerged was Dain. Golden hair framed eyes of gold that gleamed with terrible sharpness.
He held a wooden sword, and his gaze swept across the gathered mercenaries. A moment later, his voice cut through the silence.
“This is Balanus Domus.”
His voice was loud and clear. He wasn’t shouting, yet pressure radiated from him. His expression was utterly dry, devoid of warmth, but his eyes burned with cold fire.
“Anyone who dares breach Balanus Domus—”
For an instant, Chezare felt their eyes meet.
“—will pay the price. Whoever they are.”
A chill crawled up Chezare’s spine. This was not the man he’d seen in daylight. The man was transformed. One of the mercenaries let out a nervous laugh.
“Balanus Domus? What’s that supposed to be? It’s just a Tavern.”
Dain’s gaze remained unmoved by the mockery. Moonlight had been falling softly when clouds slid across its face. In that shadow, a mercenary roared:
“Get him!”
At the word, the mercenaries charged, each drawing weapons. Sharpened blades flickered in the darkness.
The man at the front swung his sword. Steel met steel, but the bind lasted only an instant. The moment the blade touched Dain’s weapon, he twisted and snapped it in two.
While the disarmed man floundered, Dain seized his collar and yanked him forward. The axe flying toward Dain bit into the man’s shoulder instead.
“Aaaahhh!”
Even as the scream and blood erupted, Dain remained composed. His eyes gleamed with bestial hunger.
From the rear, Chezare froze at that gaze. There was something hauntingly familiar in it. His master—the one who’d held Balanus Domus against invaders—had worn just such eyes.
He moved like a hunting beast. The weapon in his hand was plainly a wooden sword, yet it cut sharper than steel. Like the fangs or claws of some wild creature.
Those coming in from behind found no better fortune. Dain moved as though he had eyes in the back of his head.
—Crack!
Without turning, he twisted his blade to parry, then pivoted and drove the wooden sword at his attacker’s chest. With a real blade, it would have been fatal.
“This… this bastard’s a complete monster!”
Of the thirty-odd mercenaries, nearly half were already down.
Groans echoed from all sides. The survivors had lost their nerve, wavering in place.
Then came a voice, sharp and final.
“Chezare.”
At the sound of his name, Chezare’s throat went dry.
“I told you.”
Dain approached, wooden sword held before him, one measured step after another.
“Anyone who breaches Balanus Domus will pay the price. Whoever they are.”
Before the words finished, Dain vanished from sight. Or seemed to.
Sensing the ripple in the air, Chezare twisted sideways and raised his staff to meet the blow.
—Thud!
The weapons collided with a dull crack. As the blades met, Chezare’s eyes widened.
‘I can handle this?’
A moment ago, watching Dain rampage, he’d assumed the man to be some unstoppable monster. But now that their weapons had clashed, the raw strength behind the blow felt… ordinary.
In pure force, Chezare held the advantage. Realizing he’d been needlessly tense, a smirk crossed his face. He swung his staff at Dain with renewed vigor.
—Crack, whack!
Each collision rang out sharp and clear. To an observer, it would have looked evenly matched.
But with each exchange, Chezare began to feel it—a creeping unease.
‘Damn. Should’ve had that drink.’
His hands had begun to tremble without the drink. His tremors only subsided when he was drunk. This was why he always had to stay intoxicated.
As his body swayed in his clarity, Chezare’s brow furrowed at the sight of Dain. He growled out his words.
“What are you going on about?”
Dain was smiling. The way one might regard a particularly clever child. He parried the attacks with casual ease as he spoke.
“Because what I taught you remains in your sword.”
“What?”
“I began teaching you how to fight when you were ten years old. I couldn’t show you much. But one thing I made certain you understood — never to lose your Center.”
Center.
Yes, that was what he had learned in Balanus—the Center.
“Chezare, I can sense the Center in your attacks. There’s a crudeness to it, but…….”
Dain smiled softly.
“A great tree loses none of its majesty even when it becomes dead wood.”
“Damn it. What are you talking about?”
The Center, and all that nonsense. He had already abandoned Balanus long ago. There was no way anything remained in him. Everything vanished when Balanus fell.
He had meant to hold back, but his resolve shifted. He had to beat down this phantom of Balanus, this man before him.
Chezare widened the distance in a single bound, then hurled the staff like a javelin. The moment Dain lightly dodged the Wooden Staff flying toward him like an arrow.
The Chezare before his eyes vanished, and a presence erupted from behind. A heavy fist came hurtling in.
—Crack!
In an instant, Chezare had appeared from behind. Though the attack was unforeseen, Dain nimbly raised his sword to parry. He glanced at the shattered remains of the staff and spoke.
“Moving to wherever your thrown weapon lands? The staff shattered because it couldn’t withstand the magical force, it seems.”
Had he grasped his nature in that single moment?
Chezare felt bewilderment, but he did not retreat. If he could just beat him down, that would be enough.
With agile footwork belying his frame, he pressed Dain hard. A single blow from his fists or feet would surely shatter bone.
Yet not a single attack connected. In that moment, Chezare felt it.
Center.
The Center was in Dain’s feet, in the tip of his sword, in his very gaze. Even as attacks came inches from his face, Dain remained unshaken.
Watching him evade with minimal movement, Chezare could only gasp in wonder.
“You’ve grown much.”
Warmth lingered in that voice. Meeting Dain’s eyes, Chezare faltered.
The man before him truly resembled his teacher. Gentle and mild as he had been……. But then the smile faded from Dain’s lips.
“Still, I’ll have to correct what needs correcting.”
Dain’s strike came. A rush of steel. His blade, employing minimal force and optimal trajectory, was both elegant and sharp.
As Chezare barely evaded the attack, the moments his body remembered came flooding back.
An assault of sword-wind. That familiar form from childhood. Chezare grasped the truth of this chilling, familiar presence.
“……Master?”
Yes, he had defended against such a blade even as a child. Though Dain had not fought with full intensity given his youth, he had understood well enough what his teacher’s blade was capable of.
The teacher—truly the teacher? Surely he was dead? In the moment Chezare stood frozen in confused joy, Dain smiled.
“Now you recognize me.”
However the dead had come back to life, one thing was certain. The man before him was Dain.
Joy threatened to overflow. After fifteen years of searching, he had reunited with family—with the master he had thought dead.
“Master……. Ugh!”
Chezare felt a violent impact. Dain’s Wooden Sword had bored into his solar plexus like a spear thrust. Dain’s eyes gleamed with deadly intent.
“Now then, let’s have you take a proper beating.”
Chezare remembered. His master was not always gentle. He spoke urgently.
“I-I’m sorry! I failed to recognize you, Master……!”
“It’s fine. It happens. Would you easily believe a dead man come back to life?”
At this ostensibly kind remark, Chezare forced a smile.
“Then you’ll forgive me?”
“No. Not yet. A teacher must correct his disciple’s wrongs.”
—Thwack!
Love’s rod came raining down once more. Having struck a vital point, Chezare shrieked at the top of his lungs.
“Aaaah! Why are you hitting me!”
“You wretch, you shameless wretch! Regardless of leaving Balanus, you ally with those who breach Balanus Domus?”
“Ow, ow!”
Dain allowed him no moment to stumble, beating him with mad intensity. Even as Chezare tried to flee, Dain appeared already in his path.
“When your teacher is speaking, where do you think you’re running to!”
“No, damn it! Just stop hitting for a moment……!”
“I told you not to curse!”
—Crack!
The Wooden Sword found Chezare’s crown with precision. His head rang and he felt so dizzy he might collapse outright.
No—he’d actually gone down. And merciless blows rained upon Chezare in his fallen state.
“You bastard! You little bastard!”
Thwack, thwack! The sound of beating blows echoed loudly as Chezare wrapped his arms around his head and screamed.
“Ah, damn it! Ahhh! Stop!”
“Stop what? Do you even know what you did wrong?”
“I was wrong to try to invade Balanus! I was wrong!”
“Is that all?”
While Chezare racked his brain for what else there could be, a wooden sword flew through the air. Only after another blow to the head did tears well up in his eyes as he cried out.
“I cursed! I cursed at you!”
“What else!”
What else could there possibly be? As Chezare floundered, Dain paused his assault.
“Will you quit drinking, or won’t you?”
“I’ll quit! I swear I’ll quit!”
“Will you return to Balanus?”
“Of course I will!”
At last Dain exhaled sharply and ceased his attack. The way he looked at Chezare was exactly how one might regard a troublemaking child.
The mercenaries stood frozen, watching half their number sprawled on the ground and Chezare still being beaten senseless.
Dain turned to address them. His gaze burned with lethal intensity.
“So. Does anyone else want another beating?”

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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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