Chapter 10
The Temple of the Blue Vine (2)
The effect of an official healer’s divine magic was undeniably far superior to a mage’s healing spell. A single session almost completely healed the wound, though the healer urged Kazar to make sure he returned for two more days of treatment. While Kazar waited his turn for treatment, Ernolf holed himself up in the temple library, absorbed in reading. Even putting family tradition aside, a mage had to learn various ancient and medieval languages. It was essential for deciphering magic-related ancient documents.
‘The vocabulary and grammar are somewhat different, but not to the extent that it’s unreadable.’
Using speed-reading techniques, Ernolf rapidly scanned through books on local monsters, herbalism, and historical chronicles. Watching Ernolf enthusiastically turn the pages of the massive tome, the priest assumed the child was simply killing time by looking at the illustrations. However, contrary to the priest’s misconception, Ernolf was absorbing every bit of knowledge contained in the books straight into his mind.
When Kazar finished his treatment and came to pick Ernolf up, he found his brother with his nose buried in a book, completely lost in reading. Without disturbing him, Kazar sat nearby, watching his brother while he waited.
‘Does he really like books that much?’
It looked as though he was merely skimming the surface, but a surge of positive emotions was flowing abundantly from his brother, making Kazar wonder what was so enjoyable.
As the sun began to set, the priest informed Ernolf that they had to close the library doors, telling him to quickly put the books away.
“My apologies. I will tidy up right away.”
Lost in his reading with no sense of time passing, Ernolf only then noticed that he had accumulated a mountain of books. As Ernolf wrestled with the heavy books, his limbs trembling violently as he tried to put them back, Kazar walked over and picked them up for him.
“I’ll put them away, just show me where they go.” “That’s a great idea. Tasks like this are faster with your strength.”
Ernolf didn’t refuse and pointed with his finger to where the books originally belonged. Seeing Kazar effortlessly lift and move the heavy volumes gave him a reassuring sense of dependability.
“Are the books… actually readable?” “Yeah, surprisingly readable.”
The books in the library were written in the ancient northern vernacular and the Sarapi Empire language. Although unfamiliar words were scattered here and there, he could grasp the context by examining the surrounding text. He used the phrase “surprisingly readable” in that sense, but Kazar took it to mean that Ernolf was just bluffing despite not knowing how to read, letting out a soft chuckle.
“Why are you laughing?” “It’s just funny hearing you talk like that when you don’t even know how to read.” “I told you I’d figure it out as I read. I awakened magic on my own, so reading text is a piece of cake.”
Kazar was about to ask how that was even possible, but closed his mouth. Even he knew nothing about what kind of potential lay within someone who awakened on their own.
“So, what did you read?” “Things like the history of this region, books on medicinal herbs… Just a variety of this and that.”
As they walked down the cloister chatting back and forth, Kazar suddenly grabbed Ernolf and pulled him behind a pillar to hide. He then looked down at the courtyard.
“What’s wrong?” “I think they’re looking for us. Over there.”
Kazar gestured with his chin toward two men. Judging by their posture alone, they were clearly swordsmen, and they were asking a priest something. The priest smiled, nodded, and pointed up to the second floor where the library was located. Ernolf saw Kazar draw a knife from beneath his cloak. Before Kazar could hurl the dagger at the men’s necks, Ernolf acted first. Next to the men looking up at the stairs leading to the second floor, a noblewoman was passing by with her maid. The moment the noblewoman passed beside them, Ernolf used earth magic to trip one of the men. Then, generating a gust of wind, he lifted the noblewoman’s skirt high up. The noblewoman’s skirt landed right over the head of the fallen man. Next, Ernolf used the wind to push the other man—who had reached out to catch his stumbling companion—causing him to crash down along with the maid.
“Eek!” “What do you think you’re doing?!”
Screams and shouts erupted simultaneously, followed by the repeated sound of slaps landing in succession.
“What are you all standing around for?! Bind this shameless villain this instant!”
Her face flushed bright red, the noblewoman shouted in trembling rage. Guards rushed over and threatened the men with their spears.
“Tsk tsk, molesting a noble lady… they must have lost their minds.”
Ernolf clicked his tongue like an old man, shook his head, and continued on his way.
“We need to stop by the market before sunset to buy fabric and secure an inn. Let’s hurry.”
Kazar scoffed in disbelief and hid his knife away again. People of this era considered a woman exposing her ankles to be vulgar and taboo. To lift the skirt of a noble lady—not even a commoner—and expose her legs so clearly meant at least a flogging.
‘By the way, did Tirad see that woman’s legs too? Or was it just me?’
After confirming that the men were apprehended by the guards and dragged away, Kazar followed after Ernolf.
“Those men earlier… were they part of the same crew as the ones who chased you?”
Ernolf asked as he browsed fabrics in the market.
“They didn’t look like barbarians. Who are they?”
Ernolf held the fabric against Kazar’s body before swapping it for a different color. He wanted to dress him in bright colors to brighten his disposition, but the dyeing technology of this era didn’t help. In the end, he purchased dark wool and yellowish cotton fabric, then moved to a leather stall to buy cowhide for belts, gloves, boots, and the like. Naturally, all the funds came out of Kazar’s pocket.
“A mercenary corps.”
Ernolf’s hands, which had been idly browsing items with an indifferent face, paused briefly. Among the tales passed down, there was a famous story about a mercenary corps whose entanglement with the tyrant King Kazar ended horribly.
‘Most of the members were beheaded, and the mercenary leader—a knight once famous enough to be called the Mercenary King—had his limbs torn apart and thrown as food to hunting dogs.’
It was such a gruesome death that after reading the story as a child, he had avoided dogs for a long time.
“How did you get tangled up with a mercenary corps?” “I was being chased by barbarians, so while running away, I ambushed the place where they were staying.”
Even without a detailed explanation, the scenario painted itself before his eyes. Undoubtedly, the barbarians and the mercenary corps had fought, sustaining casualties.
‘On top of that, I killed a few more of them to save this guy. It would be stranger if the mercenary corps didn’t come looking to settle the score.’
At the time, Ernolf had assumed the people chasing Kazar were Cornu tribe members and attacked them with every ounce of strength he had. He had fainted afterward and didn’t know, but it seemed they were indeed from the mercenary corps.
“Since lives were lost, even if we offer compensation for damages, it won’t be easy to resolve.” “And can we even afford to compensate them?”
Ernolf shook his head. Right now, he didn’t have the means to pay for human lives.
“We’ll have to lay low and avoid them for a while.” “Yeah, let’s do that for a while.”
Kazar’s answer was hardly reassuring, but Ernolf didn’t press further. Unintentionally contributing to this ill-fated connection with the mercenary corps left him feeling ashamed.
‘What was the reason Kazar killed the Mercenary King again…? Ah, right. It was related to some feudal lord.’
He couldn’t recall the name, but he remembered that the lord was quite popular among his subjects. When Kazar murdered him, the Mercenary King Cassion reported Kazar’s crime and arrested him personally. However, a devil released Kazar, and the escaped Kazar returned to exact brutal revenge not only on Mercenary King Cassion, but on everyone who had held him accountable for his crime.
‘Hopefully, they aren’t Mercenary King Cassion’s mercenary corps.’
Leaving the fabric and leather with the craftsmen, Ernolf headed toward an inn at the edge of the market.
The next day, before going to the temple, Ernolf dragged Kazar to a barbershop. Having never had his hair properly trimmed, it stuck out in all directions, making him look like a caveman. With hair like that, no matter how clean he washed his body, he couldn’t look presentable. Kazar cut his hair short, complaining that it was a hassle, while Ernolf kept his length as it was and merely had it neatly trimmed. Partly because most mages preferred long hair, but mainly because they were fraternal twins with similar features, and he didn’t want to share the exact same hairstyle as well. Once washed clean and with his hair neatly groomed, Tirad’s facial features emerged distinctly. Like Kazar, he possessed neat and harmonious features, but he radiated a different atmosphere. His calm, deep gaze—as if fond of contemplation—exuded an intellectual aura.
‘Even if he’s skinny as a rail, he’s actually handsome. Ah, we’re twins, so of course he would be.’
Tirad’s hair was as dark as obsidian. His eyes were a bright green, sparkling with unusual vividness against moon-white skin that hadn’t seen the sun in a long time. His forehead was straight, his eyebrows sharp as if drawn with a brush, and his smoothly descending nose bridge added dignity to his handsome face. His lips were slightly thinner than Kazar’s, which made him look dignified for his age when his mouth was closed.
‘He might be even handsomer than my original body…’
Unable to take his eyes off the mirror, Ernolf unconsciously muttered under his breath. Just then, Kazar walked over, lightly dusting off his hair.
“What are you staring at so intently?”
Walking over while tousling his hair with rough hands, Kazar exuded a completely different vibe despite sharing the same face. It was Tirad’s face, but infused with wildness. A sturdy-looking frame, broad shoulders with defined muscle, and a resolute stride. Kazar definitely seemed like he would be more popular with young ladies than Tirad.
“Huh?” “I asked why you’re staring into the mirror so hard.” “Ah, I was just thinking about how shocked Mother would be if she saw us like this right now.”
He said it because their attire was far too shabby compared to their looks. If their mother had seen them, she would have nagged, ‘What kind of disgraceful state is that for the heir of the Torlie family!’ and personally prepared proper clothes for them. Having spoken his true feelings in his flustered state, Ernolf closed his mouth.
“Bringing up stuff you don’t even remember all of a sudden…”
Kazar replied gruffly as usual and lapsed into silence. Seeing that reaction, Ernolf felt guilty, thinking he had brought up something unnecessary. If they had lived as slaves in a mine at a young age with only his brother, he could guess the current state of their parents. They were either dead, or if alive, forcibly separated from their children.
“Now, once we get proper clothes made, we’ll finally look human.”
Leaving the barbershop and walking toward the temple, Ernolf spoke with deliberate cheerfulness.
“They said it would take three days to tailor all the clothes, so we’ll have to stay in this town until then.” “…” “Today, we’ll first stop by the temple for your treatment, and in the afternoon, we’ll go hunting. It’ll serve as training and earn us some expense money.”
Kazar had never been particularly amiable to begin with. Usually, Tirad would babble and Kazar would grumble and object. But right now, Kazar didn’t even bother objecting to Ernolf’s words.
“If you don’t want to go to the temple, should we go hunting first?” “Ah, shut it. A frail guy with nothing going for him but his mouth chatterboxes non-stop since morning.” “Hey, what did I even say to make you so angry?” “Just shut up.”
After snapping in annoyance, Kazar clamped his mouth shut and walked at a fast pace toward the temple. He was in a foul mood because Tirad had suddenly brought up their deceased mother.
“Can’t you speak a bit more pleasantly?” “How am I supposed to say ‘shut up’ pleasantly?” “You could just say you want some quiet.” “Shut up.”
Having lived as the heir of a noble family, this was Ernolf’s first time dealing with someone who spoke as harshly as Kazar. Even though he knew Kazar didn’t truly mean harm, hearing such harsh language repeatedly made his temper flare up.
‘It’s probably because he never learned how to manage his anger while growing up. Phew, as the one who is more educated and lived longer, I should just endure it.’
Ernolf gritted his teeth and held back his temper.
When they arrived at the temple, the feudal lord’s carriage was parked at the entrance. Seeing as they were visiting the temple two days in a row, it appeared someone in the family was sick. Because of the lord and his wife’s visit, commoners could only receive treatment starting in the afternoon. The patients gathered in small groups under the shade of the trees in the garden, chatting to pass the time while waiting for their appointments. Kazar cut across the garden, intending to go out and hunt in the meantime. True to form, Ernolf made a bee-line for the library the moment they arrived at the temple, not showing his face at all. Kazar looked up at the second floor where the library was before resuming his walk. Without that guy blabbering like a sparrow beside him, his side felt strangely empty.
「I was just thinking about how shocked Mother would be if she saw us like this right now.」
Whenever he recalled their mother, Kazar’s chest ached with a sharp pang. In his previous life, he had been too consumed with surviving to have the leeway to look for his parents. Only after turning twenty, when he finally gained a moment to breathe, did he trace his memories back to find them—an endeavor that ultimately left him with nothing but regret.
‘It might be better not knowing.’
Recalling what he discovered about what had become of their parents, anger surged within him, making his body tremble violently.
‘I shouldn’t tell my brother.’
Kazar decided that rather than both of them suffering, it was better if only one person carried the pain.
