Chapter 7: A New Life (7)

Evenon smiled beneath his mask. The candlelight reflected off his short brown hair, while his dark-brown eyes zeroed in on their target. In front of him, the trembling figure of a short young man could be seen. The boy shifted in place, sweating and donning an expression of discomfort. He stuttered as he spoke.

“I-I’m here for ‘Dust.’”

Evenon’s smile got wider. It wasn’t because of the boy’s words; it was because he recognized the boy’s clothes.

“How much, dear customer?”

“T-Thirty grams.”

Thirty grams of Dust was a sizable deal, but not one worth him personally dealing with it. His subordinates had directed the boy to him after recognizing this situation for what it was.

A big fish.

The boy, either through sheer carelessness or plain stupidity, still wore the uniform of his Magic Academy. Not only that, but it also belonged to the local branch of the Royal Magic Academy, which was the greatest in the kingdom. Being a noble wasn’t enough to get in; one still needed considerable talent and skills, as well as financial power. The idea that such a promising upstart was going to become one of Evenon’s customers was enough to send shivers of pleasure down his spine.

“Of course, young master, of course. Thank you for choosing us,” he snapped his fingers, making one of the guards in the room run off, “Your merchandise will be here shortly. Exactly what you requested.”

The boy nodded with an unsure expression. Evenon pressed him for more information with practiced ease.

“Now, young master, how did you learn of us? Of course, that’s only if you’re willing to say. If not, that’s completely fine.”

The young man blinked.

“O-One of my friends recommended you to me. He said you were a gan- I mean, a group that could be trusted. He said that he always relies on you.”

Evenon couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh.

Ah…

This was the benefit of having plenty of ‘customers’ that formed a network with one another.

“What is this friend of yours called?”

“…Karl.”

Evenon nodded. Another boy’s face had appeared in his mind when he heard the name.

I’ll be sure to give him a sizable commission.

Or maybe some free ‘merchandise.’ That would be the best way of stimulating such networking while keeping his clients dependent on his services. He nodded to himself. That settled it.

The guard who had left earlier entered the room once more, this time carrying a small black bag. He gave it to Evenon, who presented it to the boy as if it were a priceless treasure.

“Here you go, young master. Thank you once more.”

The young man grabbed the bag and stood in place, as if he didn’t know what to do. Evenon turned to the guard who had brought the bag.

“Make sure the young master arrives at his destination safe and sound. Be discreet.”

The guard nodded. Together, the strange duo left the room. Evenon took a breath.

From here on out, making the young man get addicted was the easy part; a feeble personality, belief in his friend’s words, and a desire to escape or to simply experience something different. The boy was practically born to be prey. He was the bunny to Evenon’s eagle. Nothing but a mere target or victim.

Evenon turned his gaze to the staff on a table on the left side of the room. His fingers drummed on the surface of his desk. The staff was incredibly intricate, completely white in color. The white wood gently embraced a red crystal at the top, while red lines ran down from it and coursed the haft. Golden engravings adorned the staff’s body, merging with the red lines to create images of flying birds. The weapon pulsated with magic power.

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It was Evenon’s greatest treasure, which he had obtained from his greatest customer.

As his thoughts reached this point, he smiled. If people like the boy from before had been born as prey, this one was the greatest of them all. No, that wasn’t quite right. Rylan Flameheart was a strange case. He wasn’t as weak as other prey, but he cared about nothing other than what interested his sick mind. He drowned himself in drugs and women without showing even a shred of regret. He wasn’t Evenon’s number one customer only because he spent the most money, but also because he was the one most uninterested in escaping their lifestyle.

“It’s about time for him to come to us again.”

Rylan had acquired a sizable amount of substances for his birthday, but knowing him – and Evenon knew him well – that would soon cease to be enough. He would return and seek more, as he always had. Looking at the clock on the wall, Evenon had an idle thought.

I’ll buy a new one with the money.

Of course, he’d be able to buy much more. Rylan always spent a great amount. To be honest, Evenon didn’t know how he had access to so much money given the fact that the Flameheart family should already be aware of his tendencies, but he wouldn’t complain. He was a businessman. He did not care about Rylan’s circumstances.

“I should get more of the merchandise and prepare the women.”

The boy would likely continue to be his best customer in the future. He didn’t show much interest in leaving, anyway. Evenon stood up. He needed to get everything in order.

***

It was a strange, nearly indescribable feeling. Rylan felt as if he had reunited with a family member after decades of no contact, or as if he had found something he had lost after years of searching. It was an unbelievable high, one that had nothing to do with the poison he’d stopped pumping through his system. But, at the same time, it was incredibly familiar, even though he had only touched a sword a few times throughout his entire life. With complex emotions in his gaze, he stared at the blade. The soldiers surrounding him looked at him and then at one another but said nothing.

Once they all had their weapons, they organized themselves in rows, staying at enough of a distance away from the others. The cramped training ground hindered this, but the group seemed to just barely fit in a strange formation. At the front, Jack turned to Rylan, who was still in a slight trance.

“We’re ready to begin. I’m gonna personally help you while the others follow our ordinary training routine.”

Rylan nodded. It was a good opportunity to see the skill level of his family’s soldiers. He would be able to compare their movements to the ones he remembered as Roland; it was also a way to gauge how he compared to them.

Jack threw a glance at Rylan, waved his hand, and yelled.

“Begin!”

Virtually at the same time, all the fifty soldiers started to move. The sound of blunted steel blades cutting and piercing through the air filled the space. Rylan observed them attentively. As the seconds passed, however, his brow gradually furrowed. He heard Jack’s voice from next to him.

“Now, we start.”

Rylan lifted his hand.

“Hold up. Just a moment.”

Jack tilted his head, but said nothing. His expression wasn’t one of just confusion, also carrying traces of smugness. Did he expect Rylan to say that he couldn’t go on? It didn’t matter. Rylan continued to observe the soldiers’ movements as time ticked by slowly. His expression had contorted into a clear frown. After repeating the same sequence of movements for a while, a few of the soldiers paired up and started mock battles while the others rested and gave them space. Rylan came to a single conclusion. It was all extremely…

…Lacking.

Of course, that was hardly surprising. In a world of magic, he hadn’t expected martial arts and swordsmanship to have been developed much, especially since he wasn’t from a particularly big family, but this was even worse than he thought. Even though the soldiers had focused on training the spear and only used their swords briefly, he could still accurately capture their movements and level based on how they moved. Roland’s decades of experience made themselves known.

This can’t go on.

Rylan forced himself to tear his gaze away from the sparring soldiers and turn to Jack. He still needed to gauge the skills of one more person. He shook his head.

“Don’t mind me. I was just confirming something. Let’s begin, captain.”

Jack nodded and pulled his sword out of its scabbard. The man said nothing about the fact that Rylan had skipped training with the spear. He spoke.

“I’ll show you the movements.”

Before he could continue to speak, Rylan raised his hand.

“Wait. First, I think we should spar. I’d like to know where I stand.”

Jack couldn’t contain the confused expression on his face. A few seconds of silence ensued. Gradually, however, anger began to fill it. A slight twitch of the eyebrow, hurried breathing, furrowed brow. It was obvious that Jack considered sparring against Rylan an insult in and of itself. It wasn’t difficult to see why, given how much the man despised him.

He won’t refuse the chance to hit me and embarrass me at the same time.

“…I accept.”

As expected.

Rylan took a few steps back, walking to the middle of the training ground. He could already feel the gazes of the soldiers, which increased by the second. Mana still flooded his body, augmenting his hearing and allowing him to listen to the soldiers’ whispers.

“Wait, he’s gonna fight the captain?”

“Damn. Good way to get your ass handed to you on the literal first day.”

“Will the captain be able to fight properly? Wouldn’t it be a problem if he won by too much?”

“There’s no way Rylan will be able to do anything. Has he ever held a sword in his entire life?”

“Oh, I wanna see this.”

“Everyone shut the hell up. Let’s watch. This is going to be great.”

All pretenses of superficial respect had been thrown away due to the belief that Rylan couldn’t hear them, but he had no intention of making that a problem. The life he had led so far was deserving of it. It was on him to prove he was now different. He raised his sword, staring at his opponent.

Jack’s expression had turned into a clear frown. In the end, he also walked to the middle of the training ground and raised his blade.

Their match would now begin.