Chapter 45: Battle Maniac of the North (2/2)

Asher Astoria.

A familiar face.

“This isn’t a trial—it’s a lich. So stop getting ideas and go talk to your ancestors already!”

Asher’s face was unusually tense as he stepped forward, blocking the path of all the challengers.

A blue magic circle flared beneath him.

[Are you interfering?]

The slow, deep voice rang out, and the chaotic mana that had been surging toward the challengers began to recede.

At the same time, a static-like distortion flickered across Atar and the others.

[Do what you have to.]

Though barely audible, Asher’s words seemed directed at Atar.

The challengers were stunned by his actions, but there was no stopping the separation of realms that had already been cast.

—Sssk.

When the barrier was finally complete, only Asher and the black figure remained in the broken space.

All the others had been forced out.

Before them, only the shimmering portal remained.

“A lich…?”

“But that ring is definitely—”

“Why the hell would a lich be here?! That’s nonsense!”

As the challengers tried to make sense of Asher’s words, confusion spread among them.

But beyond the barrier, the battle between Asher and the lich had already begun.

At this point, none of them had the means to break Asher’s spell.

“…I’m going in.”

Atar was the first to step through the flickering portal.

Asher had caused him plenty of trouble before, but he had never once lied.

More than that, the oppressive aura he had sensed earlier—one that was even more terrifying than the Ice Dragon’s—had been very real.

“Wait, I’m coming too…!”

Following closely behind, Rina disappeared into the portal as well.

The remaining challengers hesitated, glancing between the portal and Asher’s barrier, but in the end, they realized there was no other choice.

One by one, they entered the portal.

Only then did Asher, watching the portal close, confirm that he had once again twisted the ‘original story.’

Turning back to the lich, he muttered, “The kid you were after is already under my care.”

So if it truly wanted to tempt Atar—

“Take a number and wait. Not that your turn will ever come.”

[Then I shall tear it from your mind myself.]

***

Time passed.

Atar endured countless hardships and near-death experiences within the portal.

But in the end, he alone proved his worth.

He met the ancestors and was granted the real symbol of recognition.

Finally, stepping out of the portal, he was met by Rina, who had given up halfway and had simply been waiting for him to return.

Now that someone had completed the trial, she no longer had to continue.

***

“The man outside… You said he was your master?”

“Yeah.”

“Is he okay?”

“…I don’t know.”

As soon as Atar and Rina returned, they were met with an unexpected sight.

The man who had once called himself Atar’s master was leaning against a woman for support.

The lich was nowhere to be seen.

Atar approached Asher to ask what had happened.

“You found the ring… Good job.”

That was all Asher said before collapsing, completely exhausted, into the woman’s arms.

And right then—

“Seriously, I told you not to overdo it. Maybe I should just preserve you like this forever….”

“…?”

The words coming from the woman supporting Asher were rather odd.

And come to think of it, they didn’t even know who she was.

So Atar stepped forward and asked, “Who are you? How do you know him, and why are you saying weird things like that?”

“You’re quite rude, prying into someone’s personal life.”

The woman pressed a finger to Atar’s forehead and pushed him back lightly.

“Just know that I’m a saintess.”

With that, she turned and walked away.

Atar still had no idea what was going on.

***

“You knew this was reckless.”

“If you knew that, you should’ve come sooner.”

“You think a saintess is some kind of errand girl?”

“Undead are weak to holy attributes, you know.”

“…Maybe I should’ve just let you die.”

Sighing, the woman known as Demia placed a hand on Asher’s abdomen.

A soft, purifying light bloomed.

The night was deep, the room bathed in the gentle glow of moonlight.

Maybe that was why—

Or maybe it was just because, past or present, this so-called sage always did foolish things.

“I don’t like preserving corpses. Can you try being more careful from now on?”

Having been summoned to deal with the lich and now tending to Asher’s wounds, Demia let out another sigh.

She wasn’t even related to the northern successors by blood, so why was she putting herself through all this?

“…No, wait. Could he be a bastard child?”

“I’m not!”

“Hmm… So, still a virgin, then?”

“…Could you not stab me where it hurts?”

“As a saintess, it’s my duty to heal the pains of all. I could help you with that, too, you know.”

“Enough nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense.”

Demia chuckled and leaned in slightly closer to Asher.

He frowned, carefully pushing her away.

“Trying to get me excommunicated?”

“We could keep it a secret.”

“There are no secrets, Demia. You know that. I know that.”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind if it got out. It’d be a first for both of us, after all.”

“Shut up.”

Asher’s firm tone made Demia click her tongue in disappointment before stepping back.

That’s when she noticed something.

His fully exposed torso.

More precisely—

The deep scar that ran down its center.

“…Honestly, it’s a wonder you’re still alive.”

She stared at him silently.

And then—

—Knock, knock.

A sharp knocking interrupted their moment.

Demia turned and opened the door.

Standing there was a blue-haired boy.

“I’m here to see the sage.”

“The wise man isn’t here. There’s just a pitiful woman who got rejected after trying to seduce someone and an idiot who wouldn’t take what’s given to him.”

“…Seduction?”

“H-Hey! What are you saying in front of a kid?!”

A little late, Asher sat up in bed and gently pushed Demia, who had been blocking Atar, to the side.

Though, in doing so, he momentarily forgot what state he was in.

“That scar… What happened?”

“Oh, that… It’s nothing serious.”

Somehow, Atar had ended up seeing Asher’s massive scar.

That was why Atar’s face was gradually darkening.

“…Was it because of me? Did you get this fighting that lich?”

“No.”

“Then why?!”

“What, Atar? Are you worried about me?”

Asher deliberately let out a chuckle as if it were nothing, then ruffled Atar’s hair roughly.

And then, he added that it was a scar from a long time ago, so there was no need to worry.

But the fact remained that he had carried this massive scar the entire time he had been with Atar.

Seeing this unfamiliar side of Asher, which he had never known, made something deep in Atar’s chest churn painfully.

Just like that saintess had said, he couldn’t understand why Asher had risked his life against a lich for someone who wasn’t even related by blood.

Especially since Atar had never done anything for Asher.

***

“If I had just realized sooner… That all my worrying back then was unnecessary….”

A night as dark as that time, years ago.

The same type of room.

The same type of bed.

And lying on that bed was his master—just like back then.

The only difference was that the appearance, age, and even the gender had completely flipped since those years past.

“If only I had realized back then, when you told me to make it up to you instead of just apologizing…”

“……….”

“We could’ve ended things nicely, without making a big deal out of it, Master.”

Staring intently at the peacefully sleeping Letter, Atar muttered to himself.

Simply because, unlike back then, their positions were now reversed.

“…Well, I suppose it’s my turn to make a big deal out of things. I’m not the type to just sit back and take it.”

With a warning tone, he spoke to the young girl who shifted slightly in her sleep with a small murmur.

He reminded her that even being able to sleep comfortably in such a nice bed was something she owed to him.

And that, from now on, she would keep racking up debts to him, whether she wanted to or not.

‘You’ve always been like this. You only know how to take people in—you don’t know how to let them go.’

“So don’t think about leaving me again.”

With a twisted glint in his eyes, Atar let out a bitter smile.

He swore to himself—never again would he lose his master.

He would never let her disappear on him again.

***

That was why, the next morning, Letter silently gasped in horror upon waking up.

There were no words to describe the sheer terror of seeing a fully grown adult sprawled across her lap, sound asleep.

“Hey, hey..! My legs are numb! Get up!”

“…You’re awake.”

And then, she was met with a lazy smile.

Somehow, she had a very bad feeling about this.

“Do you prefer black tea, or would you rather have cocoa?”

“I-I don’t need anything! I can take care of that myself!”

“What do you mean, ‘yourself’? Everything in the North belongs to me.”

“Not yet! Your father is still alive and well!”

“Hah. What kind of power does an old man like that have left?”

“…You’re insane.”

“You’re just realizing that now?”