Winged Dragon, Guardian of the Fortress.
A four-star monster card, a wyvern that guarded mountain strongholds, quick on high-speed dives that tore enemies apart from above.
It wasn’t a powerful card, had even earned itself a reputation as “cannon fodder” back in Yu-Gi-Oh’s earliest days, but Chase was still happy to add it to the collection.
A bigger deck means a higher ceiling on my magic, after all.
Chase pulled his attention back from the depths of his own mind, signaled the Celtic Guard to keep watch over Cluney, and turned to walk back, pulling the discarded sleeveless cape back on as he went.
The Curse of Dragon, who’d been watching the whole exchange from above, descended on its own and carried Chase back to the merchant ship.
The moment they landed, Ina and her two companions, along with Lambert and the rest of the crew, crowded around them.
The survivors were beaming, showering Chase with praise and gratitude for saving all their lives.
“Come on, everyone.
We beat those pirates because everyone on this ship pulled together,” Chase said, laughing.
“No, that’s not true at all!
It was really all you, Mr.
Chase.
We just showed up for the formality of it.” Ina and the other two scratched their heads, a little embarrassed, adding a respectful title onto his name as they said it.
Wait, do we get credit too?
Lambert and the rest of the crew pointed at themselves, confused.
“You put out the fire.
If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been able to fight at full strength,” Chase said, and meant it.
His gentle, humble answer hit Ina hard, guilt flooding in fast.
“I’m so sorry, Mr.
Chase.
I actually suspected you’d started that fire on purpose.
I’m really sorry!” “So, my friends at Black Pheasant Legs, you’re all pitching in for the repair costs too.
Can’t have me covering this whole bill alone.” Damn it!
You made me feel all touched for nothing, and now you want it back?!
One sentence.
That’s all it took to wreck the whole powerful, handsome, charming S-Class mage image I’d built up in my head.
Just as Ina’s lips twitched, on the verge of an actual complaint, Chase’s relaxed expression dropped into something serious.
“I’ve got something important to take care of.
The rest of you stay here, look after everyone, and wait quietly for the Kingdom’s naval guard to arrive.” Reading the seriousness on his face, Ina and the other two dropped whatever they’d been about to say and straightened up fast.
“Yes, senior!” they said, in unison.
After watching that fight, Chase had earned that from them completely.
Chase gave a short nod and said nothing else, turning to take Cluney back to face Marshall.
Just as he reached the edge of the ship, he suddenly turned back and gave Ina and the other two one long, appraising look.
“Was there something else, Mr.
Chase?” Bob asked, a little nervous.
“To be honest…” Chase said, smiling, calm.
“I liked you all better before, when you weren’t quite so polite.” He didn’t give them time to respond before mounting the Curse of Dragon and heading back to the wrecked pirate ship.
“Hey, if you’re still alive, make some noise.” Chase kicked Cluney, eyes still closed, sprawled on the deck.
Knowing full well Chase wasn’t going to kill him, Cluney stayed silent, playing dead out of pure spite.
“If I’m not mistaken, that spatial magic you used earlier was some kind of ancient, lost magic.
The Eighteen Battle Gods Magic, right?” Cluney’s eyes snapped open, surprised.
“You actually recognize it?!” “Never heard of the guild master of Swamp Abyss knowing magic like that before.
Did Marshall give it to you?” Chase kept going.
It had been obvious enough during the fight that Cluney wasn’t exactly a master of the Eighteen Battle Gods Magic, couldn’t come close to using it at full power.
Nowhere close to Minerva’s level of effortless control, at least.
At the mention of Marshall’s name, Cluney’s pupils contracted sharply, just for a second, before smoothing back out.
“Don’t know any Marshall.
And even if I did, I’ve got nothing to say to you.” “Wasn’t really expecting you to admit it.
The answer to that question’s going to come out on its own soon enough.” Chase shrugged.
All he’d really wanted to know was whether Marshall was the true source of the Eighteen Battle Gods Magic.
Cluney’s own expression had already answered that for him.
That’s useful intel right there.
Realizing he’d already given himself away, Cluney dropped the act entirely, and something dark and pleased crept across his mouth.
“That person is so far beyond anything you could imagine.
You’re going to die screaming…” “Heh…
heh heh…
there’s no stopping it.
No stopping any of it…” “The old order’s going to crumble.
A whole new age of magic is coming…” “A world ruled by gods…
it’s coming, whether you like it or not!” A world ruled by gods?
Chase’s brow furrowed, watching the fervor written across Cluney’s face, thinking it over.
An enormous commission fee.
A string of missing mages.
A dark guild that had already been wiped out once.
And now this, some long-lost forbidden magic surfacing out of nowhere.
Piece it all together, and the whole thing reeked of a conspiracy far bigger than one island of pirates.
“Interesting.
Didn’t expect to stumble into something like this off a random S-Class commission.” Chase’s curiosity about Marshall’s real plan only sharpened.
Curiosity aside, though, I should collect my hard-earned pay first.
That part, after all, was the actual commission.
With that in mind, Chase drove an elbow into Cluney, knocking him out cold, grabbed a length of rope, and strung him up from the Curse of Dragon’s claw.
Under the envious, wistful stares of Ina, Lambert, and the rest, the Curse of Dragon shrank to a fading shadow on the horizon.
The abandoned lighthouse in Asroba.
Chase kicked the rusty iron door open.
“Commission’s done.
Time to settle up, Mr.
Marshall.” Marshall sat frozen on the wooden bench, staring at Cluney dumped on the floor like a sack of trash, his eyes shaking, an expression of pure shock on his face, like this was the last outcome he’d expected.
The look vanished almost instantly.
He shot up, feigning surprise, and crossed the room with quick, light steps.
“Mr.
Chase, you…
you actually did it?
That’s wonderful, that’s incredible!” Marshall looked down at Cluney, his small frame trembling, tears already streaming down his face.
“Finally.
Finally…” “That monster who did all those horrible things is finally in my hands!” Watching the display, Chase clicked his tongue, impressed.
No wonder the guy could afford a commission this big.
With acting skills like that, of course he’s loaded.
Once the performance wrapped up, Marshall wiped his eyes and looked around.
“What about the rest of them?” he asked.
“Sorry to say, they’re all dead.
Only the captain’s left.” Chase watched Marshall carefully.
“He’s the one who murdered your wife and daughters, Mr.
Marshall.
You’re not about to try backing out of paying, are you?” “No, no, you’ve got it wrong.” At the news that there were no survivors, something in Marshall visibly relaxed.
“Good riddance!
Those bastards had it coming!” “Mr.
Chase, thank you so much for everything, and I’m just as glad you didn’t end up like all those mages before you.” Chase, with zero interest in listening to any more of it, just held out a hand.
“If you’ve got no complaints, go ahead and pay up.
I’m a busy man.”