Chapter Thirty: The Death of Colin

As Bill and Jella were enjoying their midnight snack, a sudden blaze erupted in the direction of the supply warehouse. The fire spread rapidly, and by the time the city guards on duty realized what was happening and began to fight the flames, it was already too late to stop it from spreading.

Bill flung away the chicken leg he’d been gnawing on and stood up, about to say something when he caught Jella’s calm gaze. Recalling what Diga had said to him, he hesitated and stammered, “Are we really just going to let him burn down the supply warehouse? That guy’s got the ambition of a wolf...”

“But Brother Bill, that’s not what you said the day before yesterday,” Jella replied, removing her glasses. She saw nothing but a blur before her eyes and, with a sigh, put them back on.

“Well, I was just trying to cause that old scoundrel Colin some trouble, to avenge my uncle and the others. But if the supply warehouse burns down, the citizens of Dallas will have a hard winter, and it might even affect the war at the front...” Bill muttered.

“It’s just a decoy warehouse,” Jella interrupted, stopping Bill from continuing. “I’m the daughter of a grain merchant, I know these things. There’s a real warehouse in Dallas, and that’s what supplies the front lines.”

In truth, it wasn’t as simple as Jella made it sound. Matters of genuine and decoy warehouses were state secrets, things even a major grain merchant like Mr. Phillips couldn’t possibly know. But every transaction leaves traces, and so, drawing on her memories, Jella had deduced the existence of the real warehouse.

Just then, Jella lifted her head and looked outside. Bill followed her gaze, but even by moonlight, the distance was too great for him to see anything. Hastily, he took out his monocular and peered through it, spotting a figure slipping away from the warehouse. It was the soldier Schmidt had disguised himself as.

“I can sense it. That old fox Colin is in that direction!” Jella pointed toward where Schmidt was heading.

Watching this scene, Diga, hidden in the necklace, was reminded of a time ten thousand years ago: the blind prophetess would point the way, and countless arcanists would act, leading her from one victory to another.

………………

That night, Viscount Colin had sensed something was wrong when Sir Cromwell, the great knight, had left to pursue Andy and failed to return. When his trusted guards brought word that Cromwell had been killed, Colin’s heart sank.

He was decisive by nature. Realizing that Andy might double back, he didn’t bother to gather his gold, gems, or magic stones, nor did he call for his wife. Instead, he took Sir Macken and a few trusted guards and headed straight for the secret escape tunnel beneath the lord’s manor.

Joining them was the steward, Louis, who the guards had discovered bound and gagged under a bed. After being untied, Louis tearfully recounted what Andy had done in the manor.

Though he now knew Edward’s disappearance wasn’t Andy’s doing, this did nothing to diminish Colin’s hatred for Andy. He resolved that once the Gale Knights entered the city the next day, he would seek their help to exact a bloody revenge on the thief who had robbed him, and to eliminate Andy—this dangerous individual capable of slaying a great knight—once and for all.

To this end, he was willing to pay any price.

Louis had thought to fetch his cousin, the viscountess, but upon hearing Andy was still in the manor, he shuddered and hurried to keep up with Colin and the others into the tunnel.

Viscount Colin had built the tunnel spacious and well-lit, with night-luminescent pearls embedded in the walls. Along the way were rooms for resting. Colin vividly remembered sneaking into these rooms with his favorite maids to avoid his wife and father-in-law.

But secrets will out; Lady Colin needed no proof. If she merely suspected a maid of an affair with the viscount, that maid would never be seen again. Even if she wasn’t suspicious, she made life hell for any young and pretty servant. As a result, several maids disappeared from the manor every year. Eventually, the maids would rather offer themselves to Louis than attract the viscount’s attention.

Lost in memories, Viscount Colin hurried on in silence with Sir Macken and the others. After more than an hour, they finally reached the tunnel’s exit.

Colin knew they were now outside Dallas, with a tavern not far from the exit. He had entrusted the place to a loyal man named Jim, and there were always a dozen or so fine horses at the tavern.

The viscount intended to ride out that very night to greet the Gale Knights, to demonstrate the Colin family’s loyalty, and to avoid any danger that might arise near Dallas—after all, the real culprit who had kidnapped Edward was still at large. Once the Gale Knights arrived, he was certain everything would be put to rights.

After all, his conflict with the Gale Knights over military supplies was an internal matter among nobles. But Andy and whoever had kidnapped Edward were rebels disturbing the kingdom’s peace—he was sure the Gale Knights would help him suppress them.

Late at night, the tavern was deserted. As soon as Colin and his party arrived, Jim came out to greet them. The viscount waved off his bow, ordering him to prepare horses and carriages immediately.

Jim mentioned that a few of the horses weren’t in good shape, and that a skilled rider should help select the best ones. No one knew horses better than Sir Macken, so he and Jim went to the stables together...

Meanwhile, behind a tree not far off, Jella stopped Bill, who was itching to rush out.

They had followed Schmidt all the way here, witnessing with their own eyes as a guard from the manor met him, and seeing Schmidt arrive at the tavern, kill Jim, and assume his appearance to wait in ambush.

When Viscount Colin arrived and Schmidt left with Macken, Bill wanted to seize the chance to deal with the viscount, but Jella held him back.

She felt things were not yet clear and more observation was needed. If they acted rashly and were attacked by Schmidt or Macken, it could be disastrous. Besides, Jella sensed that there might be further twists to come.

Soon, a shout came from the stables: “Run!” followed by a scream—both unmistakably Sir Macken’s voice.

Before the viscount and his party could react, “Jim” emerged from the stables, bloodied sword in hand, wordlessly attacking the viscount’s guards...

Once all the guards were dead and the viscount’s escape blocked, “Jim” gradually transformed back into Schmidt, his true face revealed. A triumphant smile played on his lips.

“Ha! Well met, Viscount. By day you had me hunted like a dog, by night I come to take your head. Ha ha ha!”

Viscount Colin forced himself to steady his trembling legs, striving to stand tall. He spoke to Schmidt slowly and deliberately, “Sir John—or should I call you Mr. Schmidt?”

“Who would have thought that just days ago we were drinking together, and now we face each other as enemies.”

“Well then, I have no tricks left. I surrender! I trust you’ll treat me as a noble should be treated, and I even know a secret—about how an advanced apprentice can break through to the rank of wizard.”

Colin’s words were both conciliatory and a reminder of his noble status. Usually, unless killed in battle, a noble taken prisoner could ransom himself with wealth. Fearing Schmidt might not play by the rules, Colin offered an additional lure—the secret of advancing to wizard, though of course he would never reveal it right away. He was confident he could control the timing. Meanwhile, his left hand had slowly crept to his right hand, where a plain gray ring sat...

He knew the ring concealed a needle tipped with deadly poison. He recalled the grisly fate of the last assassin killed by his ambush.

Schmidt’s sword flashed, severing the viscount’s head!

Though the secret of wizardly advancement interested him, years living on a knife’s edge had honed Schmidt’s instincts—he’d noticed Colin’s subtle movement at once.

After killing Colin, Schmidt carefully removed the ring, recognizing by experience that it was an alchemical object, though its use eluded him for now.

Schmidt pressed the “Joseph Mask” to the wound on Colin’s neck, watching as the mask slowly devoured him.

He smiled silently.

He had a plan: to impersonate Viscount Colin and play the Gale Knights for greater rewards. He’d already learned that something strange had happened at the Wizard’s Tower, and he intended to lure the Gale Knights there.

Putting on the mask, he assumed Viscount Colin’s appearance, slowly absorbing the viscount’s lingering memories. Suddenly, he began frantically searching Colin’s clothes and finally found a peculiar little mirror.

“Yes! Ha ha ha, what a treasure! Ha ha ha!” Schmidt burst into triumphant laughter.

His laughter was abruptly cut off by a flying fireball.

The fireball hadn’t come from Bill, but from Andy, who had just emerged from the tunnel with Catherine in tow.

After waking up, Andy had heard from Catherine that another tunnel led from the manor to the outskirts, and that the viscount had fled that way. Following her directions, he had tracked them through the tunnel. Not far from the exit, he had heard peals of laughter coming from a tavern ahead—the unmistakable laughter of Viscount Colin. By moonlight, Andy saw it was indeed him.

He fired a fireball.

Schmidt cried out in alarm, shielding the magic mirror with one hand and raising the other in defense—a hand that was quickly burned and broken.

“Wait—” Schmidt tried to shout, but was interrupted by another fireball.

After the fight at the manor, Andy handled fireballs with ease—he’d fully mastered advanced control and was not far from expert level. Real combat was far better than practice for mastering wizardry.

“Misunderstand—” Schmidt croaked from the ground, but his voice was hoarse. Andy didn’t hear him, and continued launching fireballs, another and another.

“I... will... not...” Another fireball.

After a barrage of five fireballs, Schmidt lay motionless.

Andy stroked Catherine’s fur and said, “See? Once you hit five fireballs, it’s a qualitative change.”

“So, next time we meet an enemy who won’t shut up in a fight, just hit them with five fireballs before hearing them out. That way, you won’t get talked into submission and counter-killed.”

Andy walked up to “Colin,” kicked the body a few times to make sure he was dead. Instead of feeling triumphant, his mood grew somber. In his heart, he silently murmured, “Old Brown, I’ve finally avenged you.”

At that moment, a mask slipped from “Colin’s” face, and the body began to transform, eventually taking on the appearance of a handsome youth in his early twenties.

It was none other than the Duchy of Sain’s top spy—the “Masked Rider” Schmidt.

“Uh... who is this?” Andy was completely baffled.

Behind the tree, Jella and Bill stared in disbelief.