Book 5: Volume 4 Chapter 1, Escape

Translator: Kazumi

Editor: Silavin

 

The alleyway held its breath.

 

Tucked a few streets from the main road, it was the kind of place that swallowed shadows. The man had chosen this stretch deliberately, pressing himself against the cold stone of a building’s wall. The sun had set an hour ago. Darkness had settled into the city like something patient and waiting.

 

“Well, well,” he murmured. “This is troublesome.”

 

There was no one to hear him. He had made certain of that before speaking. Still, he said the words aloud. It was not out of carelessness, but because hearing his own voice helped him think. Gave shape to what was shapeless. Helped him stay calm.

 

“…It’s only a matter of time before they find this place.” He let the thought settle. “Now. What should I do?”

 

The answer was not simple. He was hiding, at this hour, in this alley, because a certain group was hunting him. If they caught him, everything he’d gathered, every fragment of information about them, would die with his freedom. That, more than anything, was what he could not allow.

 

He had no illusions about his combat ability. Within his organization, he was average at best. Fighting his way out wasn’t an option, and not if he was being objective about himself. He had weighed that assessment carefully over the past hour, and he weighed it again now, and arrived at the same conclusion.

 

His last resort, then.

 

“…I didn’t want to use it,” he admitted quietly, to no one, to himself. “But I suppose I have no choice.”

 

He could hear the footsteps now… more of them than before, spreading through the surrounding streets like a net being drawn slowly tighter.

 

He reached into his pocket. His fingers found a small piece of paper, palm-sized, slightly worn at the edges. He had carried it a long time without using it. He began to speak the incantation in a low voice, each word deliberate and measured.

 

When he finished, the alley was empty.

 

Only the darkness remained.

 

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The desk did not so much lift as lurch. A sharp, heavy motion that sent it crashing back to the floor a moment later.

 

The sound filled the room. The three men standing before the desk went still, each of them swallowing whatever they were about to say. What unsettled them was not the sound, nor even the gesture, it was how casually the man had done it. An ordinary person could barely kick a desk like that, let alone send it airborne. He had done it the way someone else might shove aside a cup.

 

“You idiot,” the man said. His voice was, somehow, very controlled. “What exactly were you doing out there with so many people?”

 

One of the three gathered himself enough to speak. “We’re so sorry. At the end, it appears the target used a concealment spell. Since none of our people can counter it, there was simply nothing—”

 

“…What?”

 

The anger in the man’s expression shifted. It was not gone, it was simply rearranged. Something colder moved in behind it. Something alert.

 

Concealment magic. He knew what that meant. Anyone in this line of work knew: it was real, it was well-documented, and it was almost never used, because mastering it took far too long for far too little practical return. Only those whose work specifically demanded deep-cover operation, certain kinds of specialists ever bothered to learn it. The kind of person who knew concealment magic told one something about themselves simply by knowing it.

 

“Has there ever been a report that he could use magic?”

 

“No. We had him assessed previously. If he had any ability at all, it was considered negligible.”

 

The third man cleared his throat carefully. “We reviewed things on our end as well. Our conclusion is that he likely used a magical tool rather than his own ability.”

 

Trying to divert his anger, he offered the information that seemed to have piqued the man’s interest.

 

It appeared to work. The man crossed his arms, closed his eyes, and went quiet.

 

Concealment magic was uncommon. Magical tools imbued with it were rarer still. The rarity of the ability translated directly into the rarity of the artifacts. Demand naturally existed but the supply was minimal. The price reflected this. A mid-level adventurer couldn’t afford something like that under ordinary circumstances.

 

But if someone had acquired one, that narrowed things considerably. There were few places capable of producing such items. Even if it had been commissioned rather than purchased outright, that still helped.

 

The circle of suspects was smaller than it appeared.

 

“…You’re already investigating the source?”

 

“Of course. No results yet, but it shouldn’t be long.”

 

A pause as the man uncrossed his arms.

 

“*Hmph.* I’ll overlook this mistake. This time.” The qualifier landed where he intended it to. “There won’t be a next time.”

 

All three nodded. They understood without being told that the conversation was finished. They filed out quickly.

 

Once the door had closed, the man moved to his desk. He opened the bottom drawer and removed a communication device. Anyone familiar with such things would have recognized it immediately. He operated it with practiced ease and waited for the connection.

 

“I apologize for bothering you while you’re occupied.”

 

His tone was entirely different now. Careful. Attentive.

 

“…Yes. Of course… Yes. Yes.”

 

There was no one else in the room to hear what was said, or what was agreed upon. The conversation continued for some time.

 

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The man who had slipped the encirclement reached a nearby village a few days later, and from there made his way toward the capital of the Smith Kingdom.

 

The information he had gathered had already been passed along through the proper channels, relayed quietly to those higher in the organization, who would decide what came next. His own role, for now, was simply to return. He was to wait till he received his next assignment.

 

He was not a man of high status, and he traveled toward the capital with that modest understanding of himself firmly in mind. He had no way of knowing, at that point, that arriving there would overturn something he had assumed was fixed.

 

Meanwhile, the organization that had received his report was gathered in a room where the air felt heavier than usual.

 

“Now, everyone.” The eldest of the representatives spoke without preamble, and the low murmur of conversation in the room went quiet. He let the silence hold for a moment before continuing. “The reason I’ve called you here is the matter we’ve all been circling around.”

 

Several people shifted in their seats.

 

“I won’t waste time explaining what we already know. Their expansion is aggressive, and we’re approaching a point we can’t step back from. As things stand, there are two paths: appeasement, or to fight back.”

 

The murmuring returned, quieter this time. Someone from the far side of the table asked whether there were other options.

 

“…If you have one, I’d genuinely like to hear it,” the elder said without any impatience. “This is the time for honest thought. Please say whatever comes to mind.”

 

What followed was a long, careful exchange. There were proposals offered, counterarguments raised, strategies examined and found wanting. Every person in the room was someone who managed information across a wide area, and the information each of them held was shaped by where they stood and what their people could see. There were gaps. There were overlaps. There were moments where two people were almost certainly describing the same event from opposite sides and neither realized it.

 

Still, everyone present understood the weight of what they were deciding. The discussion was serious in the way that discussions rarely were.

 

The elder listened, and inwardly, he sighed.

 

He had suspected, when this issue first surfaced, that it might mark a turning point for everything his Family had built. He had not said that aloud at the time. He had simply watched, and waited, and hoped he was wrong.

 

He had not been wrong.

 

A decision this significant could not be reached in a single meeting, but neither could they afford to take too long. Eventually, after much deliberation, it was agreed: the matter would be examined further, and the final decision would be placed in someone else’s hands.