Truth Weavers

Chapter 13.1, Year 960 of Chronicle of Truth, The First Month of Yellow-Green Field Season (1/5)

Translator: Lizz

The Iron Fortress served a role akin to that of the Magic Guilds in various towns. In other words, it assisted with disputes occurring in and around the town, as well as the capture of criminals. While maintaining public order was fundamentally the responsibility of knights, who were specialized in this, the number of knights was insufficient relative to the vastness of Rhiannon. As a result, mages operated in a subcontractor-like capacity.

Rhiannon was a beautiful, vibrant town, but as was typical of such places, crimes such as fraud and pickpocketing were rampant. Moreover, the number of bandits in the nearby areas had been increasing recently, leaving the mages of the Iron Fortress with no shortage of work.

Zechs, while faithfully and flawlessly carrying out the missions assigned to him, found himself reflecting on Aster’s words more and more with each passing day.

It was an undeniable fact that Zechs skills were the best in the platoon. After he became more familiar with the team members, the number of people who resented this fact decreased. In fact, if other platoons harassed him out of jealousy, his teammates would defend him. Originally, a ‘platoon’ was supposed to be a unit bound by strong ties.

However, no matter how much credit Zechs earned, there was little chance of it leading to a promotion. No matter how hard an individual worked, achievements ultimately belonged to the platoon, and the ones who gained recognition within the platoon were those who engaged in the ‘maneuvering’ that Aster had spoken of.

The Iron Fortress had several factions, and by affiliating with a larger, more powerful faction, one’s future position was assured. It was said that Platoon Commander Evan was part of the Krotwa faction, but she didn’t seem particularly eager to climb the ranks. It was assumed that within the faction, she was off the main path of advancement, likely destined to remain a Platoon Commander and no more.

She once gently advised him that if he aimed to climb higher, it would be better to attach himself to a prominent Master. Naturally, he refused outright, but at that time, she smiled wryly, as if foreseeing the struggles Zechs would face.

Later, Zechs came to understand the meaning behind her smile. As he began to take on missions in earnest, whispers spread everywhere about how remarkable his work was. However, because he repeatedly declined invitations to become someone else’s apprentice, those offering him such opportunities eventually stopped approaching him altogether.

Although he did not mean to belittle his teammates, it was undeniable that Zechs was the most skilled among them. Despite this, others with lesser capabilities were promoted to Platoon Commander in other units ahead of him.

For Zechs, these days were frustrating, but there was no turning back or changing paths at this point. He could only dream of achieving a great accomplishment that would silence all criticism one day. For now, he simply continued to carry out his daily missions.

It wouldn’t make sense for an entire platoon to respond to an assignment in the town. Their mobility would be hindered, and they would attract too much attention. Thus, a platoon was divided further into three smaller units, each consisting of five to seven members.

The third unit, to which Zechs belonged, had six members in total: Zechs, Aster, Warren, Fio, Danya, and their leader, Rigitte. All were in their late teens to early twenties, with the youngest, Danya, being sixteen and the oldest, Fio and Rigitte, being twenty-two. While a group of six young men and women wouldn’t typically stand out in town, the members who ventured out into the area surrounding Rhiannon Castle were immediately subjected to cold and sharp gazes from the townsfolk.

Although spring was just around the corner, the cold was still bitter, with occasional snow flurries. Townspeople dressed warmly in outerwear, woolen hats, and gloves to protect themselves from the chill. In contrast, the men and women who emerged from the Silver Castle wore only a single woolen or leather vest and a thin cloth over their shoulders, even in the biting winds. Their appearance not only seemed cold but also clearly indicated their social status.

They had grown used to being met with unfriendly attitudes each time they went into town. Before coming to the Iron Fortress, there was an unshaken belief that becoming a mage of the Fortress would lead to entirely different treatment. This was likely a common misconception among mages from rural areas, not just Zechs alone. Within a month, everyone came to realize that this belief was nothing more than a wishful fantasy. Though, compared to the collective harassment in small rural towns, one might say it was a slight improvement.

Walking through the bustling main street with his comrades, Zechs glanced around furtively, finding the situation strange.

Rhiannon attracted many merchants from foreign countries as well as immigrants from southern regions. As a result, there were quite a few people in the streets who appeared to be foreigners, and while there weren’t many residents with foreign blood, some did live there. Despite the variety of people bustling about and coexisting in this town, the stares directed at Seldians were piercingly harsh. If one happened to be a mage, those hostile stares could feel as if they might kill a person.

“Brr, it’s freezing.”

“Hey, Aster, you’re falling behind. Don’t get separated, alright?”

Rigitte, who was leading at the front, turned around to look at Aster, who was trailing at the very end, hunching his shoulders against the cold and wrapping his arms around himself as if to shield his body from the biting wind.

“We’re about to enter the slums. Be careful, and don’t stray from Zechs. You can’t protect yourself on your own, can you?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m useless anyway.”

“You idiot. If something happens to you, the morale would sink to rock bottom.”

Aster’s skill in magic wasn’t particularly impressive. According to him, his swordsmanship was decent, but since mages were not permitted to carry swords, even if he were telling the truth, it would be of no practical use. While he might seem like a burden on missions, he wasn’t ostracized by his comrades. Strangely enough, it was the opposite. Though his combat abilities were lacking, his calm and precise judgment was said to surpass even that of the Platoon Commanders or unit leaders. Moreover, as Rigitte had mentioned, Aster’s presence greatly boosted the morale of the team and the platoon. This wasn’t something grounded in logic or based on his abilities; it was likely a natural quality he was born with. One could say he possessed an innate talent for leadership.

“Ah, if only we were allowed to wear at least one coat.”

“It’s forbidden, so there’s nothing we can do about it.”

The mages of the Iron Fortress were only permitted to wear vests, and the use of coats or any outerwear that provided sufficient coverage was strictly prohibited. No matter how thick the winter gear they had changed into were, enduring the outdoors in the middle of winter was undeniably harsh. Being in Rhiannon made it somewhat manageable – Zechs could bear it with just a sigh – but for Aster, who was sensitive to the cold, and for other mages from the southern regions, it was especially difficult.

“It’s completely absurd.”

Noticing that Aster, who was grumbling under his breath, was falling behind again, Zechs grabbed his arm and pulled him forward, following their comrades’ backs as they turned off the main street.

Rhiannon, being the capital, was well-maintained, and its citizens lived in relative prosperity. However, as with many cities, stepping off the main street revealed a dimly lit slum that sprawled in the shadows. The brighter the light shines on the surface, the darker the shadows become.

Those who had lost their jobs, immigrants from rural areas who struggled to make ends meet – they survived by resorting to crime, scraping by while living in the corners of the town. Their children, too, led the same lives, repeating the cycle generation after generation.

While knights conducted crackdowns and arrested criminals regularly, there were far too many for this to make a significant dent. Worse, there were knights and nobles who colluded with criminals, pulling strings from behind the scenes to control large-scale organizations and greedily reap the profits.

The idea that merely striking down moles as they surface from their holes wouldn’t solve anything was something not only Zechs but everyone surely understood. Even so, Zechs found it hard to believe that such conditions had persisted for decades.

“According to the provided information, the target’s hideout should be ahead.”

Rigitte said, stopping to compare the map in her hand with the surrounding scenery. They were surrounded by decayed, crumbling houses or bizarre structures haphazardly expanded over time. Many of these buildings jutted into the streets without hesitation, blocking the original paths or, conversely, featuring walls torn apart to create nonsensical pathways where none should exist.

“The path is narrow… Let’s split into two groups. Aster, Zex, and Danya, approach from the left. We’ll circle around to the right and come at them from behind. Once we make our move, you handle your side. The enemy shouldn’t be too numerous, but stay alert. Aster, I’ll leave the judgment and command to you.”

The group was divided into younger and older members, which, from a tactical standpoint, was the most logical division. It went without saying that Zechs was the most skilled in magic within the third unit, but, surprisingly, the second most capable was the shy and quiet girl, Danya. On the other hand, Warren and Rigitte were more brute-force types, making them inherently unsuited for urban combat.

“And make sure to take them alive.”

Rigitte emphasized as Zechs and his group began heading in the opposite direction. Her expression was tense.

The three of them nodded in agreement – it went without saying. Even if the targets were criminals, if a mage were to kill someone, there was always the risk of being falsely accused later. It was best to minimize risks as much as possible.