I Became the Martial God's Youngest Disciple-Chapter 147

Alec's sincerity reached me, but I forced myself to ask, "Is there anything else?"

"Anything else?"

"Like an expedition journal, for example," I replied.

He did not answer. The heat of his madness slowly faded, and the desperation he had just shown slipped away like mist. Composed now, Alec dismissed me with quiet finality. "Let's leave it here for today."

"Professor Alec—"

"I'll see you in class in three days." His tone was so resolute there was no room for argument.

I gave a reluctant nod. "I'll see you then."

***

It felt good to walk without thinking when confusion clouded my mind. My eyes drifted wherever they pleased, my steps followed no set path, and my arms hung loosely by my sides.

After leaving Alec's laboratory, I wandered through the academy without a destination. The sky stretched wide and clear, the river sparkled gently, and the polished roads, streetlights, and buildings all gleamed with quiet beauty. Perhaps a place like this was rare even in the capital.

I sat on a nearby bench and looked up at the open blue sky. Spirit Mountain was known as the most forsaken place on the continent, a cursed land where the survival rate hovered below 0.1%. Those who entered didn't die, but they didn't come back alive either. I hadn't stepped foot there, but somehow, I felt like I had already glimpsed what kind of place it was.

That's why he told me to find out for myself. I understood the Iron-Blooded Lord's intentions. Sometimes, the person speaking mattered more than the words themselves. This was one of those moments.

I sensed that if the Iron-Blooded Lord had explained Spirit Mountain's dangers directly, the message would have lost its impact. Strangely, this did not discourage me. Instead, my urge to go there only grew stronger.

Am I losing my mind? I chuckled softly and gathered my thoughts.

Alec likely kept a journal of his expedition to Spirit Mountain. This was no guess but a certainty. The magic tools, the old books and photographs, the strange liquids in the beakers, the scattered documents, and even the preserved remains of unknown creatures—all of them pointed to Spirit Mountain. If that were true, wasn't Alec's talk about the empire's destruction connected to it as well?

Destruction... Destruction need not be grand to be devastating. If the six demon kings appeared on the continent in full force, it would mark the beginning of the end.

The photo... I stopped at the thought. The monster's face had been too overwhelming to recognize clearly. But there had also been something else in the picture—the sun. It had turned black. A solar eclipse, but not a natural one. It was the sign of a demon king's arrival.

Then... could a demon king have already descended on Spirit Mountain? At that moment, my head spun, and hunger gnawed sharply. Come to think of it, I haven't eaten since last night. Before anything else, I need food.

An academy this large must have many restaurants. If I asked for directions, I could find one quickly. Still, I chose to explore the academy on my own and find a restaurant along the way.

Though it was called an academy, many people were here besides students. Gardeners, cooks, security guards, employees, and even what looked like family members moved about. At this scale, Cartel Academy must be as big as a small village.

After walking for a while, I came across a street that matched that feeling. It lacked any flashy design unique to Cartel Academy. Instead, it looked like a typical village street from everyday life.

Ah, this must be the shopping area, I thought. I recalled Alderson's words and followed the street.

Since I was quite well-off, I wandered with a relaxed heart. The street offered more than just food. Bookstores, general stores, clothing shops, smithies, and magic stores lined the way. The cost of living here seemed high, but that made sense. After all, most students came from prominent families.

Since it was lunchtime, the street buzzed with students, and delicious aromas drifted from nearby restaurants. Even so, I wasn't in the mood for crowds today. My steps gradually led me to quieter, deserted places.

After wandering through back alleys for a few minutes, I found a restaurant with a decent atmosphere. It was a bar with the odd name Your Mother's Trumpet. The style reminded me of a southern bar, and a strange wave of nostalgia washed over me.

"Welcome," a loud voice called.

The interior received little sunlight, and soft lighting created a dim, cozy atmosphere. It suited me perfectly.

I settled into a comfortable spot and said, "Give me the best food and drink here."

"We don't serve alcohol during the day," the owner replied.

"It feels like night in here," I said, flipping him a silver coin.

The owner caught the coin deftly and drew the curtains over the window where sunlight filtered in.

"Indeed, the sun sets quickly these days," he remarked and headed into the kitchen.

I leaned back and took in the room while I waited. It was quiet, but not empty. A few patrons ate silently, each keeping to themselves.

Then I spotted a familiar face and let out a quiet groan. It was Butterfly Goodspring, who was stuffing a sausage into his mouth.

He hurriedly swallowed and greeted me awkwardly, "Hello."

I wasn't in the mood to talk. I had come all the way to this remote place, only to run into someone I knew. I'm glad he isn't someone I'm close to.

"Hi," I said, curt enough to signal that I didn't want to talk.

However, he came over anyway, as if he'd swallowed his sense along with the sausage. "What a coincidence seeing you here. Why didn't you come to the welcome party yesterday?"

"I had something to do."

"Did something happen?'

"Something like that."

"What is it?"

No, this fella had no wits in the first place. I stared at him without answering.

Butterfly started to squirm, cleared his throat, and asked, "Speaking of which, is Hector okay?"

"What about him?"

"Well, after what happened yesterday..."

What happened?

He caught my confusion and gave a faint smile. "Oh-ho. So you haven't heard?"

"Heard what?"

"Heh. Something happened—"

I raised my fist a little, and he hurried to explain. "After the welcome party, he had a quick fight with my older brother, Barter."

"Butter? That guy's still hanging around?" I asked.

"It's Barter," he corrected. "He's one of the swordsmanship professors at Cartel Academy. He's often absent, but he manages to keep the minimum classes each year to maintain his status."

"I see."

"My brother heard Hector was taking swordsmanship classes, so he wanted to check out Hector's skills before class started," he added.

I could already guess the outcome. Hector had grown stronger during the training camp, but he still lacked the strength and experience to match Barter.

That explains why he didn't return to the room yesterday. Was he frustrated? It was Hector, so I didn't worry too much. Still, I planned to check on him later.

"So what are you doing here?" I asked.

"I'm eating."

"Why come all the way to a place like this?" I pressed.

"Brother Luan, you're here too," he said with a smirk.

"I've always liked dark, gloomy places like this."

"I'm sorry it's dark and gloomy," the owner said as he placed a bowl of food and a glass of alcohol in front of me. He didn't look offended.

The drink was beer, and there was chicken in the bowl. From its shape and aroma, it looked stewed in sauce and wine. The portion was larger than I expected. I tended to eat a lot, but this could easily fill me with two bowls.

As he placed a plate of bread on the table, the owner added, "It tastes even better when you dip the bread in it."

"Thank you."

I took a sip of beer. Maybe it was the bar's atmosphere, but drinking it brought back memories of my mercenary days. Of course, there was nothing fancy like beer with ice in it in that poor place.

I glanced at the small stage inside the bar and commented, "I guess bards stop by occasionally."

"Ah, not really. I play the harp a little as a hobby, so I use it sometimes. Mostly, drunken idiots get up there and make pig-like noises."

So the stage is just for show. I nodded and said, "This feels like a southern bar."

"Oh... You recognize it. My father is from there, so I paid a bit of attention to the interior."

I looked at the owner's smiling face and noticed his unusually large beard and prominent nose. "A dwarf?"

He looked a bit tall for that.

"It's just on my father's side."

"I see." Half-bloods weren't unusual. I smiled and lifted my glass. "I was thinking the beer tasted good."

The owner laughed heartily. "I appreciate that, but it's a stereotype that dwarves are good brewers."

I picked up a piece of chicken. It had no strange odor, and the thick sauce was rich and flavorful. Dipping bread in it, just like the owner had recommended, would be delicious.

Butterfly spoke again. "What about my sister?"

"What about her?" I asked impatiently.

"I wonder if she is doing something dangerous again."

Seren's reckless behavior seemed well-known in the family.

"Nothing going on," I said flatly.

He looked surprised. That so? Good to hear."

"She must be the family troublemaker."

Butterfly laughed. "She wasn't like that when she was very young. Maybe when she was ten? She changed a lot after that. Sometimes, I feel like she's a completely different person."

"What was she like before?"

"She was very timid and wore her heart on her sleeve. She laughed a lot and cried even more."

Butterfly's words reminded me of the Seren Goodspring I had briefly met at the main house.

"Ah, h-hello...? You are... Young Master Luan...?"

"Or perhaps... ex-fiancé?"

"You know what. Your sister—"

Before I could finish, Butterfly sprang up from his seat. "B-Brother Luan! What you saw here is a secret!"

"What?"

Butterfly didn't answer. He crammed the sausage into his mouth and bolted out the back door.

Almost immediately, the front door swung open to reveal a familiar face. Barter Goodspring stepped inside. His presence radiated an impressive aura, from his polished appearance to the confident way he carried himself. He looked out of place in the shabby bar.

Barter scanned the room, then caught sight of me. His eyes brightened. "You..."

I wanted to stay out of it, so I kept drinking.

"A member of a prestigious family drinking in the daytime," Barter remarked. "The Badnikers never cease to surprise me."

"Care for a drink yourself?" I offered, holding up my half-empty glass of beer.

Barter laughed. "I'll pass. You enjoy it. By the way, you haven't seen my sibling around here, have you?"

"Seren? Haven't a clue."

"Hmm." His gaze drifted to the table where Butterfly had sat. A bit of sausage still lay there. "If you didn't see him, then so be it. If you do, tell him I'm looking for him."

"I will do so."

Barter gave me a smile and left.

That smile churned my stomach. I downed the last of my beer and called out, "Another round, boss!"

***

Two uneventful days passed. I had only enrolled in the Historical Geography class, so I spent most of my time in my room and rarely ventured outside. It wasn't exactly boring. During the day, I focused on circulating my internal energy. At night, I trained with the power of the divine beast. This routine made time fly by. My growth was accelerating rapidly.

Watching my internal energy rise day by day, I often thought about retreating to a bright, quiet place for a year and dedicating myself solely to cultivation. Of course, that was just a fantasy. There was too much to do.

Still, I didn't stay holed up the entire time. I'd go out to eat, and occasionally I'd run into one of the hero disciples and hear bits of news.

According to Pam, I was the only one who had signed up for just one class. No one else had taken on as many as fifteen, like she had, but most had enrolled in four or five. With the average schedule being only two or three classes a week, that seemed to be the pace needed for a well-rounded academy life.

Unfortunately, I couldn't afford that kind of leisure. As Seren reminded me, I had to keep an eye on Glenn.

"Why are you in a place like this when you know that?" Seren grumbled.

"That is a good question."

I was eating at Your Mother's Trumpet today. The food wasn't cheap, but that didn't bother me. At sixteen, I was already wealthy. Seren didn't have classes today either, so we'd come together to exchange whatever intel we had so far.

"I don't know where Prince Glenn is staying, and I have no way to contact him. But I have my Historical Geography class tomorrow. I'll ask then."

"You're awfully laid-back," she remarked.

"Cut me some slack. He's weirdly hard to approach. Royal authority aside, I can't get a read on what he's really after," I shot back.

Seren burst out laughing. "Hard to approach? If anything, Prince Glenn's the easiest person to talk to. On the other hand, I... Ugh, I'm barely surviving."

"What's the issue with Princess Perist?"

"The princess—"

At that moment, the bar door swung open. A girl stepped inside, her figure cloaked in shadow against the brilliant backlight. I watched her, curious about what was happening. She scanned the room and spoke in a theatrical tone. "Is my friend, Seren Goodspring, here?"

Seren smiled and slowly raised her hand. "I'm here, Princess Perist."

"Oh my, you are here," Perist said with a burst of laughter. She cradled a large doll in her arms, looking down at it fondly. "Look, Deathberry. I told you she would be here."

I stared at her, puzzled. Perist continued, "My friend Seren, you promised to introduce me to a nice restaurant. Is this the place by any chance?"

"That's right," Seren confirmed.

"Hmm. This place is dark and musty. Somehow, my inspiration is soaring. I like it." Then she turned her gaze to me. "And you are?"

"I am Luan Badniker."

"Oh my, a Badniker," Perist said with a smile, shifting the doll in her arms. "Did you hear that, Deathberry? We have a Badniker here. You should greet him."

The doll in Perist's arms greeted me, "Hello, strange-looking Badniker! I am Deathberry."

"Huhuhu. That was rude of you, Deathberry," Perist chided playfully before looking at me expectantly.

I smiled. "Hello, Deathberry."

Perist laughed with satisfaction. Seren glanced at me with tired eyes, and I gave her a small nod of sympathy. Compared to her, Glenn was great.