Those Who Fall Behind

Translator: CinderTL

Rodney XVIII watched the Wizard with great interest for a while.

He had expected the Wizard to look rather peculiar, but the man before him, Dirk Doyle, aside from his sinister expression, looked no different from an ordinary person.

Indeed, if Wizards looked peculiar, how could they have hidden among humans for so many years without being eradicated?

His fingers tapped lightly on the table, the candlelight casting flickering shadows on his stern face.

"You don't sound like a loyal subordinate."

Dirk Doyle suddenly grinned, revealing a few yellowed teeth. He leaned forward, the shackles clinking on his wrists.

"Loyalty?" His voice was like sandpaper rubbing together, "Giles and I merely have a mutual need—he needs my potions, and I need his live test subjects."

Dirk licked his cracked lips, his cloudy eyes fixed on the King, "But for a truly great monarch like you... I am willing to offer genuine loyalty."

The Wizard's offer of allegiance caught Rodney XVIII off guard.

Rodney's fingers paused mid-air, the candlelight flickering in his eyes: "What value does accepting your loyalty hold for me?"

Dirk's bony fingers twisted together: "My potions can keep soldiers awake and active for three days, speed up wound healing threefold, enhance their strength, and maintain high morale..."

"But my army just crushed Giles' potion-enhanced troops," the King calmly interrupted, his fingertips lightly tapping the table.

The Wizard's cheek twitched: "That... that's because the full potential of the potions hasn't been realized yet, and Giles didn't invest enough to support more research!"

He leaned back, his voice turning hoarse again: "With royal support, I could develop an enhancement potion that allows an ordinary person to defeat an Orc one-on-one..."

The King's gaze swept over the dried potion stains in Dirk's fingernails, and silence spread between them like the chill of a dungeon.

Suddenly, Rodney XVIII snorted coldly: "Wizard, do you know what image you hold in the public's mind?"

"Oh, of course..." Doyle nodded heavily, "In the public's eyes, we are always seen as cunning and deceitful, dabbling in evil magic and conspiracies."

Rodney XVIII laughed, "In that case, why do you harbor such delusions! The Aldor royal family will never shelter you practitioners of dark arts!"

Faced with Rodney XVIII's mockery, Dirk Doyle showed no sign of discouragement. Instead, he chuckled lowly, his cracked lips bleeding: "Your Majesty, do you know that since the victory at Horns Bay, merchants there have openly hired Wizards?" He raised his shackled wrists, marked with blood, "And in the Gabella Empire, their Emperor Antonio himself is a powerful Spellcaster."

"Gabella? What nonsense are you spouting?" Rodney XVIII felt the Wizard was spinning tall tales.

"You may not be aware yet," Dirk Doyle continued with a smile, "but Emperor Antonio Griffin has another identity—the leader of the Arcane Order, a Spellcaster organization. That nation has been intertwined with magic for a long time. The ongoing war between Gabella and the Church is likely also deeply connected to the element of magic. I estimate it won't be long before you hear news of Spellcasters being legalized within Gabella."

Dirk's voice grew clearer as it reached Rodney XVIII's ears: "Your Majesty, while other nations are strengthening their power with magic, must Aldor stubbornly cling to tradition?"

He hunched over, yet his eyes shone brightly. "As the ruler of Aldor, you must understand that history... never waits for those who fall behind. It must be acknowledged that the power of me and my companions may be small, but it can serve as an example for other Spellcasters. Once you show goodwill toward Spellcasters, more and more powerful Wizards will come to pledge their allegiance to Your Majesty. I—"

"Enough!" Rodney XVIII's finger struck the table with a heavy thud, silencing the Wizard.

Suddenly, the king shifted the topic: "Do you truly not know Giles's whereabouts?"

The king's abrupt change of subject caught Dirk off guard.

Dirk's sunken eye sockets appeared even deeper in the candlelight. "I've been interrogated countless times about this by the jailers," he said, licking his cracked lips. "I swear to you, Your Majesty, I truly do not know where Duke Greedy Wolf has gone. When I was first captured by your soldiers, I thought he had either died in the chaos or been captured like me."

The Wizard's voice rasped like dry leaves rubbing together.

"However... speaking of the Arcane Order just now reminded me of something," he leaned forward, chains clinking. "Before Giles recruited me, he had dealings with members of the Arcane Order."

Rodney XVIII's breath hitched. Count Merlin had once told him that the war supplies Giles used had come from Gabella, and during the civil war, there had been several inexplicable phenomena. Now, he was hearing from this Wizard that Gabella was backed by the Arcane Order.

"The last time was when the southern territory was occupied by the royal army," Dirk's voice turned hoarse. "A mysterious man with a Gabella accent delivered a letter... If Giles has truly disappeared, I suspect Gabella—or rather, the Arcane Order—had a hand in it."

Rodney XVIII sat in silence for a moment, then suddenly stood up, his black cloak sweeping an arc across the floor. "That's enough for today."

Dirk immediately hunched over, coughing, his bony fingers rubbing his knees. "Your Majesty, I must say, the cells of Crystal Radiance should offer prisoners a bit of humane care. This damned place is so damp it feels like my bones are falling apart." He raised his clouded eyes. "My companions and I breathe foul air every day, eat stale bread harder than rags, and drink water more foul-smelling than urine."

The king ignored him, already turning toward the iron door. But as he stepped over the threshold, he slightly tilted his head and said something to the warden.

Dirk's shackled hands suddenly stopped rubbing his knees.

The next day, as the jailer unlocked the door to the new cell, sunlight streamed through the high window, illuminating the dry straw mat on the floor. Dirk squinted and noticed a clay jar filled with clear water and a piece of still-warm black bread placed in the corner. A slow grin spread across his face—this was exactly the test result he had hoped to see.

In the courtyard during the exercise period, the other six Wizards stood silently under the sun, their new prison uniforms swaying gently in the breeze. Although the guards still held their weapons, they had retreated to a distance of ten paces.

(End of the Chapter)

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