Chapter 35 : The Piper Magician

“This way, Blind Saint!”

“Please, sit here.”

“We’ll bring food out shortly.”

“Is anything uncomfortable for you?”

“If you need anything, just say the word.”

It was treatment fit for a king. Just a little while ago I had been thrown out like a beggar, and now they welcomed me as though I were royalty.

Life was unpredictable—maybe that was what made it interesting.

And now, I even had a fine new title to go with it.

I enjoyed the feast they set before us.

The villagers, desperate to atone for casting us out, prepared a spread so lavish the table legs nearly snapped under the weight.

Of course, “lavish” was relative—this was a poor, tiny village after all. But to me, the meal was more than satisfying.

Food only needed to taste good, and it certainly did.

Judging by the variety, it seemed everyone had brought out their best dish.

What pleased me most was that there was plenty of meat.

Chomp, chomp.

I chewed through it happily, washing it down with wine.

The villagers watched, wide-eyed with admiration.

For to them, it must have looked like a blind man eating with the ease of someone who could see perfectly.

“Ohh… how naturally he eats, as if he can see!”

“Saint, can you see after all?”

I swallowed a mouthful of wine and replied solemnly,

“I see with the eyes of the heart.”

“Ohhh…!”

“As expected of the Blind Saint!”

The Heavenly Demon clicked his tongue.

[…What utter nonsense.]

Even Shushruta kept throwing me side glances, clearly unimpressed. Still, like me, she devoured the food without restraint—after all, food itself had committed no sin.

Claiming to be the Night Goddess Ketel’s envoy wasn’t difficult.

The villagers didn’t know much about her teachings, and truthfully, I did consider myself somewhat close to Ketel. Memories of offering up that wicked Baron Barankia as a sacrifice came to mind.

I didn’t actually know much about the faith, but I’d always been more of a creature of the night than the day, so it worked well enough.

And besides—half the battle was just being bold.

“You must be weary from your journey. Is there anything else you need?”

I looked up to see Presila hobbling toward me, pushing through the crowd.

It seemed they had treated her leg, but she still limped.

Apparently, she’d taken a worse fall than I thought—likely a torn muscle, not just a scrape.

I gestured for her to sit.

“Come here and sit.”

“Eh?”

“Let me see your wound.”

“N-no, there’s no need—”

I ignored her protest, guiding her to the seat beside me and lifting her leg.

Of course, a man grabbing at a woman’s leg in public—even a so-called saint—didn’t look good. So, for appearances, I let a wisp of starlight gather at my fingertip before touching the injury.

It was my first time using the Heavenly Demon’s techniques like this.

“Ohhh…!”

Judging by the gasps, it worked wonders. Presila’s eyes went round in awe, as did the villagers’.

I discreetly sent my qi into her leg, locating the damage, then pressed several acupoints to stimulate healing.

Thankfully, it wasn’t serious. She wouldn’t be fully healed, but she should at least be able to walk without much difficulty.

“Try moving your leg now.”

“Y-yes!”

Presila rose and took a few steps. Her eyes flew wide as she looked back at me.

“I—it’s healed!”

I gave her a faint smile.

“Good.”

“Waaah!”

“It’s a miracle!”

The villagers erupted, as though they had just witnessed a cripple stand for the first time.

By tomorrow, rumors of the miracle would probably spread everywhere.

Presila looked at me with reverence.

“This must be the divine power of the Night Goddess Ketel!”

One moment it was dark magic, the next it was holy power.

The more I thought about martial arts, the more they felt like a multipurpose tool. Hang it on your nose, it’s a nose ring; hang it on your ear, it’s an earring.

If I revealed my Night Sky technique here, I had no doubt they’d all faint in ecstasy.

Who would have thought that the filthy street brat I once was would one day be called a saint? Not even my parents—who had died before seeing my face properly—could have imagined it.

“Haha. It was nothing. I’m glad you’re well.”

I brushed it off modestly, earning another round of gasps and praises, then returned to my meal.

Shushruta snorted at me.

Once the excitement died down, I asked Presila,

“Tell me—what is troubling this village? The goddess didn’t give me every detail.”

“Ah, I’ll explain. It’s just that…”

I ate as I listened to her account.

And to sum it all up in one line:

“Children have been disappearing overnight?”

“Yes. That is correct.”

Nearly half the village’s children had vanished, and no one knew where.

Not even a single witness had seen them leave.

It was baffling, almost supernatural.

This strange phenomenon had actually started in a neighboring village and gradually spread here.

That was why Presila had gone all the way to Ketel’s temple.

But even after her return, children continued to vanish.

Parents swore they had kept watch through the night, eyes wide open, yet come morning their children were simply gone.

It was driving them to madness.

“Hm.”

Hearing their desperate stories, I finally understood.

So that was why they had been so hostile to strangers earlier.

If children were vanishing one after another, of course outsiders would be viewed with suspicion.

Their fear made sense now.

I organized my thoughts.

In short, what they wanted was two things:

For the missing children to be returned.

And for no more children to disappear.

‘Simple enough.’

All I had to do was find the culprit and deal with them.

Sometimes problems seemed complicated, but the solution was straightforward. This was one of those cases.

“Hmmm…”

I furrowed my brow, pretending to deliberate, then nodded gravely.

“As you wish. I shall do my utmost.”

“Ohhh…!”

After the meal, I went door to door, gathering information.

Investigation was always the first step in any commission.

But I gained little—only more questions.

First, no signs pointed to anyone forcibly taking the children.

There were no traces of struggle, no cries that had woken parents.

It was as if the children had walked out of their homes of their own accord.

One might suspect simple runaways, but that didn’t fit either.

Too many were missing, and they vanished little by little, at regular intervals.

Even more, the children themselves were terrified. Many confessed they were afraid of falling asleep, fearing they’d be gone by morning. Some already suffered from insomnia.

Clearly, this wasn’t the work of children sneaking off into the night.

All the more reason it didn’t make sense—where would children even run away to in a remote place like this?

A normal brat might at best shiver in the woods until fear taught them sense, and then slink back home for a good scolding. If unlucky, they’d be eaten by a stray beast or a roaming monster.

And so my fruitless questioning dragged on… until I stumbled upon something unexpected.

“…A flute sound, you say?”

The man nodded.

“Yes. A flute.”

“Hm. Tell me carefully.”

“Yes, yes. That night, my child suddenly got up, and I woke as well. I’m a light sleeper.”

“Mm.”

“I asked the child what was wrong, and that’s when I heard it—clear flute music drifting from outside. And then… my vision blurred, and…”

“When you woke again, the child was gone?”

“…Yes. By morning, it was as if they had vanished into thin air.”

“And you recall nothing after hearing it?”

“Th-that’s right.”

The man buried his face in trembling hands.

“Ah, it still feels like a nightmare. Such a gentle child… oh, gods…”

“I see. Thank you.”

Leaving the house, I scratched my head.

“…What kind of bastard is this supposed to be?”

Shushruta, still holding my arm under the excuse of guiding me, asked flatly, “Do you understand what’s happening?”

“I’ve got a rough idea.”

It seemed some lunatic was luring children with flute music.

I turned to Shushruta.

“Anything come to mind for you?”

“…There is one thing. But I can’t be sure.”

“That so?”

“And what do you plan to do? You know as well as I that we have our own journey. Even now, people seeking that dagger are surely drawing closer.”

“No need to worry. We’ll just kill the bastard tonight and be off. At the very least, let’s see their face.”

Preferably, it’d be someone strong.

Shushruta’s eyes went wide.

“With what means?”

I shrugged.

“What else? We wait in ambush.”

It looked like the elixir Shushruta had found earlier would have to wait until another time.

Night deepened.

I sat staring out the window, stifling a yawn.

Our lodging was Presila’s house; she’d cleared a room for us.

Glancing over, I saw Shushruta leaning against the wall, deep in thought.

“You said you had an idea. Out with it already.”

Her eyes flicked to me, then down again.

“…I can’t be certain, but hearing ‘flute’ brought something to mind.”

She tilted her head slightly.

“Though… it shouldn’t be possible.”

“What shouldn’t? Come on, share.”

After a pause, she began.

“Decades ago, there lived a man called the worst criminal of his age. People named him the Piper Magician.”

What a name—Piper Magician.

“His true name was Culsea Everton. A sorcerer who committed the gravest of taboos.”

“Taboo?”

She nodded slowly.

“He was accused of kidnapping hundreds of children.”

“…!”

My eyes widened—at the same moment, in my inner world, a fire roared to life.

A blaze so fierce it could have been hellfire itself.

[Children… kidnapped?]

The Heavenly Demon’s wrath surged, his killing intent so sharp it made my heart seize.

I swallowed hard and hurried to calm him.

‘Master, breathe. Calm yourself.’

[…]

Gradually, his fury receded, until nothing remained.

“…”

Truth be told, I was less shocked by the tale of the Piper Magician abducting hundreds of children than by my master’s reaction.

The Heavenly Demon, always proud and aloof, had never shown such raw fury.

It felt as though I had glimpsed a hidden side of him.

At that moment, a voice trembled through the room.

“W-what was that just now?”

I looked up. Shushruta stood pressed against the wall, her face ashen.

So some of his killing intent had leaked out.

“I—I couldn’t breathe for a moment. What on earth was that?”

I waved a hand dismissively and answered in a casual tone,

“Nothing. Just felt a little unsettled for a moment.”

Her eyes remained wide.

“…What kind of mood gives rise to such a dreadful aura?”

“Moods come and go. No need to explain further. Especially for someone as fickle as me. But what I do need is more explanation about this so-called worst magician. Don’t you agree?”

She studied me for a moment, then slowly nodded.

“…I’ll let it be, then.”

Taking a deep breath, she wiped the sweat from her brow and continued.

“The reason I kept saying I wasn’t certain is because Culsea was believed long dead. A relic of another age. If he lived still, he would be well over a hundred.”

I nodded.

“Sprightly old man, then.”

“More likely it’s a disciple of his, or an imitator. The method is the same.”

“Method?”

“I only read about it in old records, so details are unclear. But he targeted small villages, luring children away with flute music.”

“A decrepit piper, then. Gives me chills.”

“It’s assumed to be some form of powerful enchantment magic.”

“And the children he took—what became of them?”

“No one knows. But it’s certain they never returned.”

“Hm.”

“His bounty once climbed as high as sixty-seven gold, given the horror of his crimes. Though in the end, the case was closed with him presumed dead.”

A magician, then.

They were elusive, hard to confront directly.

But I knew how to fight them.

It wasn’t as though I’d never faced a mage before. Even within the Sherwood Mercenaries, there had been plenty of skilled ones.

“Ashuban.”

Shushruta fixed me with a grave look.

“If—by some chance—it truly is Culsea himself… then run. Do not look back. The older a magician, the more dangerous they become. Understand?”

I gave her a noncommittal hum.

“Mmm.”

(End of Chapter)

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