The Problematic Child of the Magic Tower
[Translator - Night]
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Chapter 286: The Primordial Evil (1)
“Sign it.”
“Grrk!”
Oscar glared at the contract before him with a humiliated expression.
[Oscar Crucian shall never reveal to anyone the secret concerning the Heavenly Sword’s head.]
But since he had already been caught, there wasn’t much he could do.
All he could do was sign it—sympathizing deeply with the plight of a censored journalist as he did so.
“Hmph.”
The Heavenly Sword looked satisfied at last, tucking the contract into his robe.
“If any rumor about my head leaks out, I’ll assume it came from you.”
“That’s absurd!”
“If you have a problem with that, then you’d better help ensure the secret stays buried.”
What a petty man for someone hailed as the strongest of the age.
Oscar grumbled inwardly and nodded half-heartedly.
“Yeah.”
“...That didn’t sound very convincing.”
“Yes! Are you satisfied now?”
“You little—”
The Heavenly Sword glared but stopped short of striking him.
For all appearances, Oscar was still an honored guest—and more than that, a benefactor who had done much for the Heavenly Sword family.
“Ugh. How did I end up entangled with the likes of you?”
“Call it divine fortune.”
“...”
He almost snapped back but shut his mouth.
After all, this man had done a lot: created a cure for the infected citizens, lifted his grandson’s curse, and even relieved the boy of the crushing expectations that weighed on him.
So much good done in just a week.
‘And yet... why does just looking at that face make me so angry?’
Since advancing to Level 8, his emotions hadn’t been this stirred in ages.
With a sigh, the Heavenly Sword finally spoke.
“Well, irritating as you are, you’ve rendered great service. Our family never forgets a grudge—but neither do we forget a favor. So, I intend to reward you accordingly.”
A reward, huh.
Considering what he’d done, no small sum could cover it.
Oscar’s eyes gleamed with curiosity.
What would the Heavenly Sword family offer in return?
“First, we’ll shoulder all costs for constructing your airport.”
“Oh?”
The eastern metropolis of Sicadel thrived on trade thanks to the Bettis River.
An airport there would yield astronomical profit.
‘Still, if that’s all, it’s kind of dull.’
When Oscar blinked expectantly, the Heavenly Sword smirked.
“Hmph. Of course that’s not all. The real prize is...”
He slid a small slip of paper across the desk.
“This.”
On it was written a single character—Heaven—in graceful calligraphy.
Oscar turned it over, puzzled.
“What’s this supposed to be?”
“A token. You may, once and only once, call upon my personal aid.”
The Heavenly Sword’s help.
With an 8-level knight at one’s side—one on the verge of reaching Level 9—there was little that couldn’t be accomplished.
Even left unused, the token was a valuable long-term investment.
An incredible reward.
One that no amount of money could buy.
‘So why does it feel so... cheap?’
The paper wasn’t enchanted or embossed; just a torn scrap of ordinary parchment.
Normally, any great sword clan or tower would have an engraved medal or sigil for such favors.
Oscar’s eyes narrowed.
“Let me guess—this was whipped up right before I came in?”
“Ahem.”
The Heavenly Sword coughed heavily, averting his gaze.
“I never personally issue such favors. It’s unthinkable for me to assist someone directly, so of course there was no pre-made token.”
“Still, this looks like one of those massage coupons students make for Teacher’s Day.”
“What!? How dare you compare my token of aid to a massage coupon!”
His brows twitched as he reached out a hand.
“Enough! I’ll just pay you in gold instead—hand it back!”
“Now, that would be rude. You went to the trouble of making it.”
“You know that and still—!”
When Oscar quickly hid the token behind his back, the Heavenly Sword’s eye twitched again.
He hadn’t used mana, but the boy dodged his grasp with ease.
Tsk.
If only this brat had chosen the sword instead of magic.
With that physique, he could’ve become a swordmaster anywhere—perhaps even the lord of a great sword clan himself.
‘If only he’d trained under me...’
Suppressing that regret, the Heavenly Sword slid another document across the desk.
“What’s this, another reward?”
“You dare ask for more after taking my token? Have you no shame?”
“You just handed it over so suddenly—I was curious.”
Oscar stared as if to say So, what is it then?
The old man gestured at the paper.
“This is a commission request to the White Tower.”
“A request? From the Heavenly Sword family to us?”
For a clan powerful enough to seize whatever it desired, that was unexpected.
Oscar picked up the papers to read.
“‘Third Labyrinth Expedition’... Looking for treasure, are we?”
“Treasure, eh? Not entirely wrong. Ever heard the name Belpher?”
“You can’t mean the Demon King Belpher?”
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[Proofreader - Gun]
“Indeed. About 840 years ago—back when the Calderan Empire was still a kingdom.”
Of course Oscar knew the name.
History books described Belpher as a Level 9-class calamity.
“I know the story. To defeat him, the El Terra Church sought Calderan’s aid, and their alliance later became the foundation of the Empire itself.”
“Hmm. So you paid attention in history class.”
“I was a good student. Anyway, judging by where this is going, the labyrinth you mean must be...”
“Exactly. The one said to hold his corpse.”
Belpher had died on an island beyond the western sea—the Black Sea.
Not that it had always been black.
“...You do know that’s called the Sea of Death for a reason, right?”
“After Belpher fell, his malice poisoned the surrounding waters. Even now, 800 years later, the sea remains pitch-black.”
Malice potent enough to stain an entire sea.
Since then, the western ocean had been deemed impassable.
“The first expedition all drowned together. The second made it back alive but never crossed the sea completely.”
“Ah—don’t tell me...”
“Exactly. When I visited the Cathedral to cure my grandson, the Pope suggested this—why not cross using one of the White Tower’s airships?”
“Flying across the Black Sea...”
Oscar rubbed his chin.
“Not impossible. But if His Holiness himself mentioned it, then the real goal must be the Holy Sword, right?”
“You catch on fast.”
Forged by the Goddess El Terra herself, capable of purging all evil—the Holy Sword Itaca.
Now little more than a legend.
The Church had spent centuries trying to reclaim it.
“So only your clan and the White Tower will join this expedition?”
“Yes.”
Many sword clans and mage towers rivaled the Heavenly Sword in strength,
but none had him—the Heavenly Sword himself.
‘A late-stage Level 8. Practically a living weapon.’
Clearly, they intended to ensure the Holy Sword was recovered at all costs.
Oscar asked coolly,
“What do we get out of it?”
“All treasures found in the labyrinth will be split evenly—fifty-fifty.”
Considering how much might lie buried there, that wasn’t a bad deal.
After a brief thought, Oscar spoke.
“Ninety-ten.”
“...Are you suggesting we only get ten percent?”
“Yes.”
The Heavenly Sword stared, dumbfounded.
“You think that’s reasonable?”
“Why not? Without our airship, you can’t even start the journey.”
“I’ll be joining in person—a knight on the verge of Level 9!”
“But you’re still Level 8 right now. We’ll send an 8-level mage to match. How’s that?”
Sasha was busy, so bringing along the idle Lloyd sounded perfect.
“And you’ve left out something important.”
“...What would that be?”
“The Holy Sword. If the Church is partnering only with you instead of forming a joint force with mages, then you’ve already secured a private reward—like a loan of the sword, perhaps?”
“...”
The Heavenly Sword’s face stiffened.
No matter how gifted, children were children.
All prodigies he’d seen over a century had shared that flaw—even his own grandson.
‘Yet this one... a boy barely in his twenties, talking like an old noble veteran of politics.’
It was almost eerie.
“...As you guessed, the Church promised to loan the Holy Sword Itaca to our family for thirty years should we recover it. How did you know?”
“Because you’re the Heavenly Sword. Without such a profit, why risk the Black Sea for mere money?”
At present, the clan’s prestige rested entirely on the man before him.
‘In truth, Toft Clan had more high-ranking knights, and Dragon-Sword Clan excelled in sword arts.’
If the Heavenly Sword died, the family needed a new pillar to survive.
The Holy Sword would serve that purpose.
If the young sword-heir Cheon Ajin became its wielder, the clan would thrive for decades.
“...Fine.”
After a long pause, the old man agreed.
“You’ll have ninety percent of all finds and first claim rights. But if there’s even a single error crossing that sea, I won’t forgive it.”
“You’ll travel in absolute comfort, I promise.”
“I’ve heard the White Tower values you greatly, but are you even authorized to make a deal like this on your own?”
“The Archmage’s approval is required, of course—but leave that to me.”
Oscar smiled faintly.
He was confident he could persuade the necessary party.
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]

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