That night, Dethain guarded the bridge.
The movement of the Mozes was busy. According to the Ettley’s map shown by Dethain in the afternoon, it seemed that the Mozes were spreading out not only to Downsearch but also to Outsearch, preparing something else. Therefore, Dethain also worried that it might be too late by the morning after next.
While Dunmel and Dethain were quietly discussing the strategy for retreat, Jaymer suddenly appeared and stood beside them. He seemed to want to appear as if he had coincidentally stood by, looking across the bridge for a long time with his arms crossed. As expected, Dethain quickly caught on to such behavior and spoke first.
“I heard you caused a commotion in the Lutiano? Acting as if you would invade across the bridge by yourself, yet you’re still here.”
Jaymer’s eyes widened before he looked away again.
“It would’ve been too much alone.”
Should Dunmel have informed him that was obviously the case? Dunmel found this thought amusing. Then, out of nowhere, Jaymer turned to Dethain and said,
“Are you a traitor?”
Dunmel was perplexed about whether to get angry, ignore it, or laugh in this situation. However, it was pleasant to see Dethain’s usually stern face distort.
“A traitor? Who? Me?”
Dethain asked.
“Some people say so. There’s even a gathering pointing you out as a traitor?”
It seemed Bedford had eventually dragged Jaymer into this as well.
‘The worst recruitment.’
Dunmel laughed to himself.
Dethain, looking somewhat puzzled, burst into laughter.
“I heard rumors that there was a traitor among the masters of Lutia, but was it me? Did I use magic to protect these more than two thousand monsters?”
Dethain tapped the palisade with his palm, laughter unceasing.
“Tell me, Dunmel Wolf. Have you also heard such talk? That I’m a traitor?”
Dunmel honestly nodded.
“Jaymer. When you go to that gathering, relay my words. To use that level of magic, one would have to be at least a Grand Master like Ruskin, so rather point him out as the traitor.”
“That old man with the white beard sitting in the meeting room?”
“Watch your words, you!”
“I can’t! Anyway, you were at the scene when Kassel disappeared and also when we lost two of the White Wolves before.”
“I was there.”
“Weren’t you the sorcerer in the black robe? Tanya said that black guy used the same type of magic as her!”
“Tanya said that? Why only mention it now?”
“I just remembered.”
‘Convenient answer.’
Dunmel admired to himself and nodded.
“If he used the same type of magic as Tanya, then that person must be a sorcerer of Lutia.”
“Anyway, when that monster and the black sorcerer appeared and used magic on Tanya, you weren’t there!”
“If that’s all the evidence you have, better not to bring it up, Jaymer. You’re just giving me a chance to refute.”
Dethain continued without any sign of panic.
“But since it’s been mentioned, I’ll carefully explain for you and the gathering that pointed me out as a traitor. First, if I truly intended to betray Lutia, I would have assassinated Grand Master Ruskin and destroyed the White Mystery he was protecting. Why bother commanding the Mozes and protecting them with magic, pretending not to be a traitor, and going to Aranthia for reinforcements, and even risking disappearing the White Wolves in the Sky Mountains?”
Dunmel agreed. He hadn’t thought Dethain would resort to such an act for the sake of betrayal. There were much easier methods.
“There’s no reason for a master of Lutia to betray Lutia. It’s like asking if there’s someone among the White Wolves who would betray Aranthia. And if, just if, one of the White Wolves were to betray Aranthia and sought its destruction, how would they proceed?”
Dethain looked at Dunmel as he continued.
“Would they bring in unidentified monsters from outside and attack each gate in turn? No! If it were Dunmel here, he wouldn’t think so. Simply approaching the Queen and plunging a dagger in her neck would suffice. Aranthia is Queen Sanadiel’s country, and without her, it’s no longer Aranthia. It’s the same. Without the White Mystery, it’s not Lutia. I wouldn’t engage in such foolishness with the Mozes. Do you understand?”
“I don’t understand! Then who’s bringing those monsters here?”
“Who would attack Lutia to that extent by bringing such troublesome creatures? Obviously, an external enemy.”
“The Lord of the Undying?”
When Jaymer asked, the one who showed a vehement reaction was Dunmel. He hastily wrote on the ground, asking, but it was too dark, so he engraved it again on the palisade with a dagger.
— How do you know him?
“I told you. The Lord of the Undying attacked the Queen.”
Dunmel’s heart sank. The events unfolding were not in Lutia but in Aranthia, following the incident in Camort.
Seeing Dunmel’s expression, Jaymer waved his hand.
“Don’t worry. Kassel took care of that. If Kassel were here, he would’ve explained everything clearly, but I don’t know exactly how things went down. I just fought alongside the Wolf Knights…”
Jaymer momentarily forgot what he was trying to say, then continued.
“So, there’s no traitor in Lutia?”
“I won’t ask who’s spreading such talk. But if you meet him again, convey my words exactly as I said. The one spreading such talk is rather an internal enemy of Lutia!”
Dethain’s hair bristled then settled down. The mage’s aura was so intense that Jaymer stepped back in surprise.
Dethain glanced across the bridge again. After a moment, he glanced at Dunmel and spoke, shaping the words with his mouth so that no one else could hear.
‘If your captain came here… if that young-looking youth had come here, do you think it would have really helped resolve the situation as Loyal said? Even Queen Sanadiel said something similar.’
Without a second thought, Dunmel nodded.
Dethain sighed.
‘Maybe the traitor of Lutia is really me. It’s as if… we’ve lost the fourth person who could have been a great help if brought here…’
‘Four?’
Dunmel spread out four fingers.
‘Azwin, Gerald, Captain Wolf, and Master Tanya. She’s just a young girl, not even half my age, but if she could unleash the power she’s hiding, she would be twice as powerful as me. She’s also a disciple of Master Tailed. If these four had come, maybe they really could have protected Lutia.’
Dunmel offered no consolation. He was the person who felt the greatest responsibility and guilt over this situation. He was not the traitor. However, he definitely thought the enemy was within.
The operation was in two days. The full moon, one day later.
They had to find the traitor before then.
☆ ☆ ☆
Midnight was approaching. Dunmel clung to the outer wall of the tower. Climbing up the wall where the guard was weakest, he reached the 15th floor, where Kainswick’s spire looked as small as a finger, and the wind was incredibly strong.
He was outside Master Luder’s room. He was asleep. Dunmel peered into his room through the window.
Maps of Lutia and the Sky Mountains were attached to the wall, and unidentified vials were plugged into the bookshelf. The drugs in the bedroom seemed not to be of a dangerous kind. The labels on the bottles were written in unreadable characters. Alongside various history books, a couple of old swords were stuck at one end of the shelf. Nothing special.
Dunmel climbed higher. At this height, the wind suddenly became stronger at times. It was impossible to predict, and a moment’s inattention could send him flying off. He waited for the wind to die down, then moved boldly during a lull.
This time, he leaned against Golbein’s room window. The old sorcerer with black skin was rummaging through documents, clutching his head. The door opened, and Kainswick’s female teacher entered. The two had a calm conversation over a cup of tea. From their lip movements, it seemed like they were talking about Lemifs, but much of the conversation was indiscernible.
‘Are they analyzing the language of the Mozes?’
Dunmel climbed higher and reached Dethain’s room. The window was not locked. After all, there was no need to worry about thieves at this height.
Dunmel silently entered the empty room. Various items labeled with Ettley’s name were spread out on the table. Torn maps were scattered around the room, and there was a lot of dust in the corners, indicating it hadn’t been cleaned in a while.
Dunmel didn’t touch anything but examined a few torn maps. They detailed even individual houses in Lutia, probably traces of effort until Ettley’s map, which could detect the movements of the Mozes in real-time, was completed. He knew nothing about magic, but even from this, it was evident how much time was invested in this task. If Dethain was the traitor as Bedford had suggested, he would have died of overwork before destroying Lutia.
As expected, many books were inserted into the wall, and crystal balls were fitted into the empty spaces between the books. They were covered in dust from long disuse, and one even had a crack. He felt an urge to touch them but refrained.
Philip’s room was also empty. The floor was cluttered to the point of being difficult to walk on, with junk scattered everywhere. There were two crystal balls similar to those in Dethain’s room, one of which was neatly placed on the table. Dunmel stared hard at the crystal ball, starting to feel that the search he was conducting was somewhat futile.
The objects in the sorcerers’ rooms were naturally magical tools, and looking at them didn’t mean he could understand their use. Even if among the clutter in Philip’s room there was decisive evidence of collusion with the enemy, Dunmel wouldn’t have the skill to recognize it.
He felt someone approaching from outside the room. Silently, Dunmel slipped out the window and clung to the wall, closing the window just as the person opened the door to enter.
Two people entered the room. Dunmel peered into the room from another, smaller window on the other side. It was Philip and Kainswick’s female teacher. She was Heidi, the doctor at the field hospital who had treated the unconscious Dunmel. Seeing her face, Dunmel waved his healed arm around and pressed lightly on his temple. It had healed without him even realizing.
“I’m sorry, Heidi. By now, we should have announced our engagement and been preparing for the wedding,” Philip said.
Heidi stood with her back to Dunmel, so it was impossible to see what she was saying.
“Thank you. Even after this is over, it won’t be too late for us,”
Philip said, smiling and embracing Heidi. They looked happy, yet also somewhat sad.
Dunmel moved away from the window and climbed higher up the tower. Reaching the top, he could see not only Downsearch but also the outskirts of the Outsearch forest. The torches lit by the Mozes were busily moving. It was too far to make out what they were doing.
Dunmel climbed to the very top where the White Mystery was located for the last time. The gemstone, shining like a lighthouse, seemed to be exposed on the outside of the tower at a glance, but it was actually protected by transparent glass.
Dunmel tapped the glass lightly. It felt different from ordinary glass. It was probably the kind of protective equipment that wouldn’t break even if Dunmel struck it with all his might.
Up close, the light from the White Mystery was too bright. Dunmel waited until he became accustomed to the light to take a closer look. This giant white gem, known as the White Mystery, was the size of a person and, on a larger scale, took the form of an elongated octahedron. However, when looked at in detail, it was cut into millions of facets.
The White Mystery was surrounded by a narrow corridor just wide enough for one person to stand in, with wooden stairs leading down in the middle of the corridor. However, Ruskin was nowhere to be seen. Dunmel entered Ruskin’s room through a window one floor below.
Still, there was no sign of Ruskin.
Even though it was the Grand Master’s room, there was no special difference from the other masters’ rooms. There was a slightly pungent smell, perhaps from using poor-quality oil in the lamps. This was mixed with the scent of luxurious spices and the common musty smell of books found in sorcerors’ rooms.
On the wall were various colored staffs and robes hung haphazardly. Most were white, but there were also ones in sky blue or forest green, and there were black robes and gray robes as well.
It was said that a sorceror in a gray robe had attacked the Queen of Aranthia, and a sorceror in a black robe had attacked Kassel.
‘Are those two sorcerors the same person?’
A question he had put aside resurfaced.
If there was a traitor, Dethain’s words about Ruskin being the most skilled in magic lingered in his mind. The gray sorceror of Aranthia, the black sorceror of the Sky Mountains, and Grand Master Ruskin.
To sorcerors, the color of their robe was like a protective coloration for camouflage. Jaymer had insisted that the robe of the sorceror who attacked at night was black, but he might have mistaken it for another color that had changed. For a sorceror, the color of the robe couldn’t be a clue to identify them.
On the wall of Ruskin’s room were maps of Lutia, Aranthia, and the entire Acrand. It was much more detailed than any other map of Acrand he had seen elsewhere.
Dunmel briefly examined the map and then, sensing someone approaching from behind, immediately drew his dagger and turned around.
“Shouldn’t it be me who makes that move against an intruder?”
It was Ruskin.
He continued, setting down the tea he was holding on the table.
“Wouldn’t it have been better to say you were coming? I only prepared one cup of tea.”
Dunmel was startled that he hadn’t noticed someone approaching so closely. This was a first. Queen Sanadiel also had an invisible presence, but she had never surprised Dunmel like this.
“Shouldn’t I be the one surprised by your presence, why are you surprised by mine?”
Ruskin slowly bent his knees and sat down in a chair like an old man concerned about his joints. His eyes were filled with sleep.
“Have a seat first. If we’re to have a conversation, you’ll need some paper to write on, so it’s better if we both sit.”
It was an irresistible offer for someone in the position of an intruder. Dunmel sat down and began to write on the paper with the quill pen Ruskin offered.
— I apologize.
“I understand. You wanted to investigate the rumors of a traitor within Lutia yourself? Did you also inspect the rooms of the other masters?”
It wasn’t a probing question. It was a confirmation. Dunmel quickly gave up the battle of wits against this insightful sage and nodded, openly admitting it. Ruskin looked at Dunmel with a kind smile for a moment.
“Do you know about the history of Lutia?”
— I don’t.
Ruskin spoke leisurely, as if he had invited Dunmel for a meal.
“Lutia was established around the same time as Aranthia. It’s quite old in the history of Acrand, so many people don’t know about it… It’s like a legend. That legend started from a great war in Acrand a thousand years ago. Should I say it was a war that broke out right after the country of Aranthia was formed, or should I say it happened just before the country of Ganelock was established? Either way, for ordinary people, it’s just a distant past.”
Ruskin occasionally took a sip of tea to moisten his dry throat.
“Dark forces aiming to dominate the world attacked Aranthia. I don’t even know what those dark forces were. People who know the conquest war of Lontamon as the greatest war in history couldn’t even imagine the scale of that war.”
Dunmel focused on Ruskin’s lips.
“All human sorcerors were mobilized, and even the dragons of the Sky Mountains were involved. People across the continent mourned the death of four dragons in the war ten years ago, right? But compared to the dragons that died in the war a thousand years ago, it’s nothing. The Yellow Gate, one of the largest buildings at the time, was stained with the blood of dragons and changed its name to the Red Gate. I think the Wolf Knights played the biggest role back then.”
‘Wolf Knights since a thousand years ago?’
“Do you now understand why the sorcerors of Lutia and the Wolf Knights are considered on the same level?”
Realizing that the organization he belonged to was inflated in its external portrayal, he suddenly felt the weight of holding one of its highest positions on his shoulders. Of course, his friends probably wouldn’t take such stories seriously even if they heard them.
Ruskin seemed to understand such concerns and smiled.
“The ruler of the Sky Mountains bestowed upon the victorious sorcerors the land named Lutia and granted them the power to protect it. That power is the gem known as White Mystery. It symbolizes Lutia, sitting atop this tower completed over generations by Larvitten and his grandson.”
— I heard it from Dethain. Without the White Mystery, it wouldn’t be Lutia.
“Exactly. It’s not that the White Mystery is stored within Lutia; rather, this land became Lutia because the White Mystery is here. The name Lutia, derived from the first Grand Master’s name, is a separate matter.”
Ruskin smiled contentedly.
“Downstairs from this room, you can see portraits of all the Grand Masters. Would you like to see the portrait of Master Lutia?”
Dunmel declined. Although it was an interesting story, Dunmel wanted to leave the room quickly. The Grand Master’s kindness was more of a burden to Dunmel. Perhaps this long story was Ruskin’s way of punishing the intruder.
“Actually, this room belongs to Master Tailed. I am merely filling in for him temporarily. Will you follow me? I’ll show you the White Mystery. Though you’ve already seen it.”
Ruskin said with a smile, making it hard to refuse. Dunmel wanted to see the White Mystery up close.
They ascended the wooden stairs to the upper floor. These stairs connected to the top room of the tower where the White Mystery was stored. Standing in the narrow corridor, the White Mystery was within touching distance.
Although it was blinding from the outside, standing right in front of it, it wasn’t as dazzling. Ruskin, enveloped in the warm light, looked 20 years younger.
“I am the 43rd Grand Master of Lutia. And Tailed is the 44th Grand Master. And yet, there is no 45th Grand Master chosen. I am merely filling his absence. Dethain and Golbein are being considered for the next Grand Master, but all of us, including those two, are waiting for Tailed’s return.”
Ruskin touched the White Mystery. The light fog that arose from the gem’s surface like flames slowly and faintly enveloped the old man before returning to the White Mystery.
“It’s been roughly eight years since Tailed went to Lontamon to strike down the Lord of the Undying. As you know, three of Aranthia’s White Wolves also accompanied him. I believed Tailed would protect Lutia for at least another 40 years, but he vanished in that battle.”
Ruskin’s expression darkened, and it seemed, perhaps imaginatively, that even the light from the White Mystery dimmed.
“Tailed and I had a relationship more like a father and son than a teacher and disciple. Can you understand? How can I express the emptiness of returning to the position I had passed on to my disciple after completing my teachings?”
Dunmel couldn’t help but think of Karlsten.
Karlsten and Themar. A relationship between teacher and disciple, yet also like father and son. Dunmel couldn’t fully understand Karlsten’s feelings, and similarly, he couldn’t grasp Ruskin’s sorrow. However, he could somewhat comprehend what formless pain meant.
“Did you say the operation starts in two days? Even then, I will guard this place. When you leave, look at the top of the tower. If the light disappears, it means I am dead; if it remains, know that I am still alive.”
Ruskin smiled.
“No, never mind. Old age brings nothing but nagging and nonsense. Let’s pretend I didn’t say that last part.”
Dunmel had entered Ruskin’s room through a window secretly, but he left through the front door, even receiving a farewell.
Dunmel’s feelings were complex.
For a master of Lutia to betray Lutia would be like the White Wolves betraying Aranthia. As the masters themselves said, they had no reason to betray Lutia. They all had the justification and will to protect this place, and if they wanted to destroy Lutia, there was no need to involve the Mozes.
Dunmel concluded there was no traitor within. If there was, perhaps there was someone among the teachers of Kainswick worth considering.
‘The White Wolves assassinate Her Majesty Sanadiel?’
Dunmel thought seriously about Master Karlsten.
‘If they were to do so, there must be a compelling reason.’
At that thought, Dunmel recalled Ruskin’s magic that raised a river to strike down the Mozes and Dethain’s magic that erected a massive wall of fire on the land. He also remembered Flora creating a mist of blood out of thin air.
If a master of Lutia were to betray Lutia for some unfathomable reason, it wouldn’t just be a disaster for Lutia. Even if unintended, that calamity would inevitably extend to Acrand.
‘And if Ruskin is the traitor, it’s as grave as Quain Gant being the traitor. Even knowing it, there’s no stopping it.’
–TL Notes–
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