My Disciples Became Scoundrels - Chapter 49

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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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Beyond the mist there was only silence. The soldiers who had held watch all night bore the hollow shadows of exhaustion beneath their eyes.
The fatigue of unrelenting tension—they would have preferred actual combat to this.
Though the night had passed without casualties, their expressions were troubled. The soldiers stared at the tower in confusion.
“Yeremia’s Prophecy missed the mark. It was never wrong before.”
“It happens. At least no one was hurt—we should count ourselves fortunate.”
“That’s true. I wonder why the Monsters never appeared.”
They did not smell the faint copper reek drifting through the mist. Deep within the Western Mountain Range, Cesare drove his spear through a Monster’s skull.
“How many of these things are there?”
The forest was strewn with Monster corpses. Amid the carnage, Dein’s disciples moved about like they were merely taking their morning exercise.
Dein sat perched on a boulder, watching. Jenia’s tentacles curled through one of the bodies.
“The Monsters did appear after all. In your judgment, Master—is this natural?”
“No. These are not naturally occurring Monsters.”
Dein gazed beyond the mist as though observing something. His golden eyes seemed to perceive something the fog did not conceal.
“This type of Monster typically appears near cliff faces, not in areas like this. It’s not impossible, but….”
The unnatural emergence of the Monsters. And the Prophecy’s perfect accuracy. Arkel’s expression sharpened.
“Did the Prophetess manufacture her own Prophecy?”
It was the one way to achieve a hundred percent accurate Prophecy. Cesare’s face went rigid, then his eyes blazed with fury.
“That’s got to be it. All a lie. Getting us dragged into this….”
Beneath his anger lay something like relief. Cesare’s mood brightened; he slapped his fist against his palm.
“Should we go after the Prophetess, Master? Ah, you mentioned the Prophecy can be erased without touching her hands. How?”
“Arkel. Burn everything. Leave no trace that Monsters were ever here.”
At those words, Arkel flicked his hand once. The Monster corpses burst into flames, consuming themselves rapidly.
“So you erase the very fact that the Prophecy was fulfilled.”
Dein nodded. An unrealized Prophecy becomes mere hearsay. Balanus’s Prophecy would lose all credibility as well.
What Dein’s disciples had killed was not Monsters, but Prophecy itself.
White ash accumulated on the ground. No evidence of the Prophecy’s birth, no evidence of its destruction.
Cesare laughed softly in amazement, then his brow furrowed.
“It’s good that Balanus’s Prophecy falls apart this way, but are we just going to leave that fraud alone?”
“No. We need to understand why she tried to discredit us. We can’t let this pass.”
“Right. Shall we go finish off the Prophetess?”
Cesare’s expression brightened; he struck his fist against his palm. Dein laughed silently.
“Not yet. We lack hard evidence. Let’s wait a little longer.”
He turned to regard his disciples.
“For now, shall we strangle the Prophecy further? Until she loses her nerve.”
* * *
The largest restaurant in Nebelheim was a fixture, a place where customers never ceased to arrive. Today too, the establishment was crowded.
Among them sat a table of garrison soldiers. One of them sipped his drink with an odd expression.
“It’s strange. Yeremia’s Prophecies have missed the mark three times now?”
For two weeks, the Monsters had not appeared once. It meant the soldiers had kept watch through sleepless nights. One hollow-eyed guard exhaled sharply.
“What if the Monsters suddenly appear now?”
“Come on, nothing like that has happened yet.”
Some voiced doubt, others offered defense. A strange tension settled over the table. The same could be felt at other tables as well.
“Yeremia told us to guard what flows and avoid what stagnates. But when we went to the river, nothing happened.”
“Didn’t you just take extra care because of the Prophecy?”
“That too, but…. Something doesn’t feel right.”
Amid the murmur of voices, we sat in a corner of the restaurant. Cesare tore into a turkey leg, holding it in his hand.
“The town’s finally getting restless. There are still believers, though.”
“This much is sufficient. A little crack in faith built over years will do.”
For two weeks, we had simultaneously prevented the Prophecy from manifesting and investigated the Prophetess.
From that inquiry, we had uncovered several facts. First: Yeremia had drifted into this town roughly five years ago. Cesare licked the sauce from his lips as he spoke.
“They didn’t believe her at first. Then at some point her Prophecies began coming true perfectly.”
“Yes. It seems no coincidence.”
“It must all be fabricated. I wonder how she got around the Frost Prison.”
That part did trouble me. If she wasn’t a genuine Prophetess, there must be outside collaborators.
While I fell into thought, Jenia broke her food into small pieces and spoke.
“The Monsters must have been summoned by the Prophetess, right? How do we find evidence?”
“If she’s casting magic from a distance, the Conduit would be inside the tower. She hasn’t left it once.”
Through the window, I saw children in white robes passing by. Twelve, thirteen years old perhaps. They carried food in their arms.
They wore the same garments as the children who had supported Yeremia. Cesare glanced in that direction.
“Good grief. What ability did that woman use to gather up all the town’s vagrant children?”
There were no vagrant children in this town because of the Prophetess. She had taken every street child to her Domus.
The passing children’s faces were bright. They bore no trace of having grown up on the streets—they looked well-raised, almost genteel.
“Maybe she did it because she’s a good person? Took the children in out of kindness?”
“Could be someone like Gainak. The kids might be getting exploited, for all we know.”
Gainak. The garbage who’d abused Jenia.
“If that’s the case, she deserves a beating. A thorough one.”
Jenia’s movements with the fork grew rough—nearly violent, mangling the food on her plate.
Cesare stroked her head gently and looked at me.
“So, Master, what do we do now? Keep killing Monsters?”
“We need to enter the Tower to find the Conduit.”
But regardless, I had to speak with the Prophetess alone. I needed to understand why she was doing this. Arkel fell silent for a moment in thought.
“The Tower is sealed, but with our skill, forcible entry should be possible.”
“There’s another way. The Prophetess accepts any child without a home, or so they say.”
The age limit was sixteen, I think. I studied Jenia quietly. She was twenty, but could still pass for a minor.
“Jenia, could you go inside and gather information for us?”
“Yes, I can do that. But it would be no fun going alone.”
Jenia’s eyes sparkled. A chill ran through me. Something felt ominously wrong.
* * *
The path to the Tower was quiet. There were no Prophecies today, so no one lingered before it.
Only a few children in white robes held brooms, sweeping.
They ranged in age—from around eight to mid-teens. One of the children who had been sweeping diligently lifted her head at the sound of footsteps.
“Are you guests? The Prophetess is resting today.”
“This place…… you take in people with nowhere to go, right?”
It was Jenia who approached. She looked thoroughly dejected. The children seemed taken aback by her appearance.
“Oh, you’re not a traveler? Weren’t you traveling with the adults?”
At that, Jenia covered her mouth. Her shoulders trembled as though she were choking back sobs.
“That’s…… sob…… Father disappeared. He just left this behind…….”
Jenia held out a piece of paper. The child who read it’s expression changed instantly.
“What? His new fiancée told you to come alone, and he just…… left you here?”
“That red-haired guy traveling with you was your father? He looked like bad news, and apparently he really was!”
The age gap between Jenia and Cesare was about seven years, but no one questioned it.
After reading the letter, the children who had been distant moments before now huffed with indignation on her behalf.
“He told you to come here because they take in children, then just abandoned you. And you don’t even have money.”
Jenia’s face crumpled. The children’s eyes shifted, and they exchanged glances with one another.
“I know that pain well. My mother abandoned me too.”
“Wait here! I’ll tell Yeremia and be right back. She’ll definitely take you in! How old are you? What’s your name?”
“Jenia. Fifteen.”
“Jenia, then. And…… who is this person?”
The child’s gaze turned to me, standing beside her. Jenia squeezed my hand and spoke.
“My brother. He got abandoned too.”
“Is that so? What’s your name? How old?”
I kept my voice as soft and light as possible.
“Dein. Sixteen.”
I’m forty years old, and here I was saying this. I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut.
Outwardly I looked twenty, but no matter how I tried, sixteen seemed impossible. And yet my students had insisted it could work, forcing me into disguise regardless.
I had no idea why they were so eager. It had been a long time since I’d seen my disciples enjoy themselves like this.
For a forty-year-old man to become a sixteen-year-old boy required several things: trimming my eyebrows and hair, abandoning my pride, and shorts.
Shorts I hadn’t worn since childhood. My knees felt cold. I’m nearly six feet tall—how was this supposed to work? It seemed impossible any way I looked at it.
“Sixteen?”
The child in front of me stared hard at me. Cold sweat beaded on my skin. I’d never been this nervous, even facing Monsters.
“Got it! I’ll tell the Prophetess and come right back.”
……This worked? Was I really that youthful in appearance?
As another child entered the Tower, someone emerged from it—a burly man, around thirty.
There were only children in the Tower, weren’t there? He spoke to the girl in front of me.
“Mia, who are these people?”
Surprisingly, this man appeared to be underage himself. Cesare didn’t quite look his age either.
The girl called Mia looked to be about sixteen at best. She smiled brightly.
“Yeah. Children who’ll become our brothers and sisters. This one’s Jenia, fifteen, and this one’s Dein, sixteen.”
The burly boy’s expression brightened. He walked over with heavy footfalls and thrust out a hand like a pot lid.
“I’m counting on you, Dein.”
He towered over me. Standing before him, I looked all of sixteen. I smiled and clasped his hand.
“Yeah, I’m counting on you too.”
I was relieved we could enter without trouble. Still, I’d been uneasy about sending Jenia in alone.
After the boy shook hands with Jenia as well, the tower door opened again. It was the child who’d gone in earlier. Her voice was bright.
“Yeremia has agreed. Both of you, come in!”
The moment we stepped inside, the door closed silently behind us.
The children all looked at me with the same pale, beaming faces.
“Welcome to your new home.”

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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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