My Disciples Became Scoundrels - Chapter 50

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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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I watched the smiling faces around me and turned to look at my surroundings. The first floor was arranged as cleanly and reverently as a shrine.
Had this place become a shrine too? As I thought this and climbed to the second floor, I stopped short.
The second floor had an entirely different atmosphere. Children’s clear laughter rang out as I reached the landing. Even the soft sound of them bickering.
The smell of baking bread, wooden furniture worn smooth by small hands, toys scattered here and there, sunlight pouring through the windows…….
It looked like an ordinary home. Perhaps an ideal Domus takes this form.
As I stood at the top of the second-floor stairs, looking inside, the children sitting at a large table came hurrying over.
“Huh? Mia, who are these people? Did they come to our Domus?”
“Yeah. Dad abandoned both of them.”
Hearing Mia’s words, the children each wore a different expression. Some looked angry, others sympathetic…….
“At least it turned out well! It’s better to live here with everyone than with a father like that.”
“That’s right. We’re a family now. Oh, Jeremiah!”
Looking back, the prophetess had somehow come downstairs. The children rushed toward her.
“A new family member came! Should we have a party today?”
“Yes, yes. We’ll make that chicken dish you like too.”
She reached out and stroked each of the chattering children’s heads like a mother bird.
For some reason, I felt as if I were watching a mother with her children. The prophetess turned her head toward me.
“Welcome, then. Demian and Zenia, wasn’t it? You’ve been through so much.”
Jeremiah approached us. Up close, she had an even stranger presence. She moved without a sound, and there was no heat—she was like mist.
I’d thought she was blind, yet her movements were too natural. Like someone who could see what lay ahead—or see the future itself.
“Thank you for taking us in. My sister and I were at a loss…….”
If she truly was a prophetess, wouldn’t she see through this lie as well? Even if we used assumed names, a real prophetess would know.
The prophetess drew Zenia and me into a careful embrace. A faint, pleasant fragrance rose from her.
“You’ve both walked such a difficult road. It’s alright now.”
Words that would sound sweet to children who’d been abandoned. Her voice was simply comforting. She seemed not to know we were Balanus.
“Fifteen years. How hard it must have been?”
At those words, Zenia’s shoulders flinched. I nearly reacted too.
Fifteen years. A specific number. The time we’d each spent wandering. The time only we knew about.
The appearance of Demon Beasts was surely orchestrated. Yet sometimes this woman seemed genuinely real.
She released us from her embrace and smiled.
“I’ll prepare beds for you. First, one of the children will show you where the rooms are. The others will begin preparing the meal.”
“Yes, Jeremiah.”
The children scattered in unison. The prophetess offered us a silent smile.
“I hope you find joy here. Rest well. I’ll go up first.”
The prophetess turned lightly away. Her retreating figure was rather elegant, or so I thought.
Thud-crash!
She’d stepped on the hem of her long skirt and tumbled forward. And quite ungracefully at that.
“Ow…….”
The aloof, mysterious atmosphere vanished in an instant. So did the voice that emerged.
Mia hurried over to help the prophetess up, her reproach tinged with affection.
“Honestly, Jeremiah! I keep telling you to wear a shorter skirt.”
“How can I show my ankles when you’re watching? They say even gods don’t drink cold water in front of children.”
“But you’re always falling like this anyway?”
In ordinary shrines, the prophetess is treated with utmost deference. No one treats her the way Mia does now.
With Mia’s support, the prophetess began climbing the stairs. As I watched for a moment, the old-faced boy I’d seen earlier approached.
“Come on, I’ll show you around the tower. Follow me. My name is Brock. Fifteen years old!”
He looked like a young man at first glance, but his voice carried pure, guileless brightness.
With his guidance, I explored another part of the second floor. The tower was wider inside than I’d expected, and a warm atmosphere flowed through every corner.
Children hanging laundry, children baking bread and watering potted plants……. White faces smiling without a hint of discord.
The light was excellent. A space without want. Somehow it felt like a sealed paradise.
“We take turns with chores, and you can go anywhere except the fifth floor.”
Zenia, looking around distractedly, turned to Brock.
“What’s on the fifth floor?”
“The prophetess’s room.”
The top floor, then. I glanced up the stairs, but Brock had already entered the third floor.
“Third and fourth floors are the sleeping quarters. Any room without a nameplate is empty, so use whichever you like.”
I saw several identical wooden doors. Zenia wandered about, looking here and there, then turned back.
“There are a lot of empty rooms. Is the fourth floor empty too?”
Zenia was right. There appeared to be about ten rooms total, and roughly half of them had no nameplate.
At her question, Brock’s expression grew somewhat forlorn.
“Oh, my older siblings left. They usually go once they come of age. They say they want to find their own dreams.”
Independence was a natural rite of passage. Yet something about this tower’s atmosphere unsettled me—the fact that those children had departed. Were they truly gone?
Brock, who had grown a bit downcast, soon broke into a broad smile.
“That’s why I’m so happy we have a new family member! Go look at the rooms and pick one. I’ll bring bedding in the meantime!”
After Brock left, Zenia opened one of the empty rooms. Inside sat modest furnishings. She promptly flopped onto the bed.
“It smells nice. Like warm sunlight. Like sweat and oil burning away.”
I sat beside my pupil, who was rolling about and studying the ceiling. Zenia twisted around to look at me.
“The bed’s so soft. You and the others must be having a hard time sleeping rough outside.”
“We have no choice—we need to make it look as though we’re leaving the village.”
To give the appearance of abandoning them, Arkel and Cesare had departed for the mountains somewhere shrouded in mist. By now they’d be somewhere in those peaks.
“I hope they find clues quickly in the Mountain Range. I’d rather they didn’t sleep rough for long.”
If the Demon Beast had been forcibly summoned, traces would remain somewhere in the peaks.
While those two investigate outside, we act from within. Either way, I hope it’s resolved swiftly.
Meanwhile, Zenia extended her tentacles, exploring the room here and there. After probing into the crevices, she spoke.
“There’s nothing strange. The children are ordinary too. Is the prophet not a bad person? Should I not punish them……?”
Did she think Jeremiah would be someone like Gaynac? Just then, faint footsteps sounded from outside. Zenia withdrew her tentacles.
“Have you decided which room you’ll use?”
Brock entered with an armful of bedding. I told him I’d take this room, and Zenia would use the one next door.
“Good. I’ll have to make name plaques too. Oh, and the kids are playing outside—want to join them?”
“Playing? Doing what?”
“Stacking Game.”
“What’s that?”
Having never heard of it, Zenia’s eyes lit with curiosity. Then she glanced at me as if seeking permission.
I nodded. I wanted to observe the state of the children at play. And Zenia seemed eager to go.
We left the tower and headed toward the back, where an open clearing lay. A fair number of children had gathered there.
About ten or so. A few of the children we’d greeted earlier waved welcome.
“Demian, Zenia! Come quick. We were just about to start a game of Stacking Game!”
“Zenia’s never played before. Let’s teach her.”
Zenia approached the children, buzzing with excitement. One of the other kids addressed me.
“Will you play too, Demian?”
“No. If I played, I’d hurt the children.”
What kind of adult plays Stacking Game at forty? Besides, I was large enough that it seemed better to sit this one out.
Before long the children clustered together beneath a tree. They took formation for the game, and one boy rushed toward them.
“Tag, you’re it!”
“But I said I was it!”
Giggling laughter rang out. Zenia shifted restlessly, wanting her turn.
“Now it’s Zenia’s turn!”
“Yes!”
Zenia dashed forward and scrambled onto the back of a boy bent over in stance. He was well-built enough that she didn’t shift at all.
“Are you actually on there? You’re so small but super light!”
Playing with the children, Zenia looked genuinely ordinary. The Zenia who usually kept people at a distance because of her tentacles, because of her indifference.
It was as if her lost childhood had returned to her. I watched for a long while.
I didn’t forget to observe the other children’s condition either. As Zenia said, they were ordinary.
No sign of brainwashing. No bloodlust, no cultivation aura—just ordinary children.
They roughhoused and played foolishly like children their age should. After playing for a while, Zenia returned with flushed cheeks.
“That was so much fun!”
“You had that much fun?”
“I did!”
Laughter escaped me. I was glad she could play like this, even now. Zenia suddenly grabbed my arm.
“Play with me, Demian!”
“No, I can’t do that.”
I could give a piggyback ride, but the Stacking Game itself was impossible. Brock, standing nearby, smoothly intervened.
“Well, you’re pretty tall, so how about we all play Tag instead, Zenia?”
“Yes! Let’s do it! I’ll be it! I’ll go call the others!”
As Zenia dashed off, Brock gave me a knowing smirk.
“You know, you wanted to play Stacking Game too, didn’t you? I skip it because I’m big, but… you looked disappointed.”
No, that wasn’t it at all.
“Let’s gather the taller kids and play another time.”
I found one more reason to finish the investigation quickly. Once Zenia had rounded up the children, I leaned close and whispered to her.
“Zenia, can you let them catch you as slowly as possible? About fifteen minutes.”
Zenia tilted her head, bewildered for a moment, then seemed to understand something and nodded.
“Yes. I’ll do that!”
All the children gathered in one place. Zenia turned her back to the tree and began counting in a loud voice.
“One, two, three…….”
In the meantime, the children scattered quickly in all directions. Watching them disappear between the trees, I moved quietly forward.
When I entered the tower, everything was quiet—unlike before. If Zenia drew out the game, I could buy myself at least fifteen minutes.
My goal was to find something that might serve as a clue during that time. As I climbed with muffled footsteps, I heard a sobbing sound from deeper inside the dwelling.
Was it a child who hadn’t joined the game? As I crept closer, I heard a voice thick with tears. It was Mia.
“Jeremiah, do you really think I can do it well? Mother said I was useless…….”
“It’s all right, truly it is.”
The Seer’s voice came through—soft and tender.
“I have seen your future, child. A future where your dreams come true. You will become the greatest mage in the world.”
“Really……?”
“Yes. I promise you. I will give you this Grimoire, so study it diligently.”
I listened to that voice for a moment, then turned toward the stairs. Something felt off.
Jeremiah’s voice was warm yet resolute. It carried something beyond mere comfort—a note of certainty that seemed to come from genuine knowledge.
Yet I could sense it clearly. Mia radiated not even a trace of magical power. She had no talent.
Still, Jeremiah spoke with conviction. It didn’t sound like simple comfort offered to placate a child. She sounded like someone who had truly seen the future.
Whether she was genuine or false, I couldn’t say with certainty. But one thing was clear.
That child would fall asleep tonight not in tears, but in peace.
I headed toward the fifth floor, the highest point. The door was closed but not locked.
I slipped inside silently and found the space generally emptier than the rest of the tower.
Just a bed, a desk, a wardrobe—perhaps that was all. I examined the room carefully, leaving no trace of my presence.
But when I opened the desk drawers, there was nothing of interest. The lack of furnishings made it harder rather than easier to find anything of use.
After searching everywhere, I finally opened the wardrobe. As I examined its interior thoroughly, my hand touched something.
A small box lay at the very back. Inside it was a Necklace, its flat pendant engraved with some kind of pattern.
Above it were countless scratch marks, making it difficult to make out exactly. Yet something about it wouldn’t leave me. I had seen a pattern like this before…….
―Knock, knock
A knock at the door. A voice came from beyond the closed door.
“Demian. Have you found what you were looking for?”

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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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