Chapter 122 Old Comrade



For Splurt, it would have been no difficult feat to seize the Blaze Steed at this moment, but keeping Nassar alive would prove more advantageous to him.

Under Nassar's watchful gaze, Splurt penned a letter, sealed with his own handprint and seal, and handed it to Nassar.

"You've seen the contents already. Deliver this letter to the mayor, and he will acknowledge your 'identity.' ...Afterward, we'll seize an opportunity to 'dispose' of his eldest son, and you'll become the legitimate successor to the mayoral throne."

Splurt narrowed his eyes; while it seemed he was assisting Nassar, it was in truth a mutually beneficial arrangement.

Nassar's hands trembled as he accepted the letter, which represented years of meticulous scheming to infiltrate The Quest Guild and attain a leadership position.

With Splurt's influence and status, the mayor would undoubtedly show him due respect.

"Enough, I've written the letter. Bring forth the Blaze Steed."

"As you command, Lord Splurt."

Nassar excitedly removed his cloak and placed the long wooden box he had been carrying on the table.

He then opened the box and carefully retrieved the Secret Saber: Blaze Steed, presenting it to Splurt with both hands.

"Lord Splurt, please confirm that this is the Secret Saber: Blaze Steed, correct?"

Nassar needn't have said more, as Splurt's eyes were already fixated upon the magical sword.

After decades, he had finally laid eyes on the enchanted blade once more!

"Ah...yes...indeed...!"

Splurt set aside his cane, took the Secret Saber: Blaze Steed with both hands, and examined it meticulously, inch by inch.

It was not so much an inspection as it was an admiration.

"Ha ha ha ha... After all these years... it has finally fallen into my hands!"

Splurt displayed a physical prowess uncommon for someone of his age.

Clutching the Secret Saber: Blaze Steed in one hand, he swung it from side to side, pleased with its lightweight feel.

Then, without further ado, Splurt turned to face the wooden wall, preparing to test the essence of the magical sword—he intended to unleash the Blaze Steed.

"Nassar, stand back."

"Eh? Alright, alright!"

Nassar thought to himself, has Splurt gone mad?

-(Isn't this sword supposed to incinerate its wielder? And yet he dares to use it?)

But since the 'letter' had been secured, Nassar didn't care for much else. If the old man wished to die, so be it.

"Let me witness your power, Secret Saber: Blaze Steed!"

Splurt infused the sword with magical energy and swung it at the wall!

However, as a result, nothing happened.

"...Hmm?"

Puzzled, Splurt looked at the sword in his hand, wondering if he hadn't infused enough magic. He channeled even more energy and swung again, but the outcome remained unchanged.

At that moment, a sense of foreboding crept up Splurt's spine.

"Nassar...how did you come by it?" Splurt demanded, his voice quivering slightly.

"Oleg entrusted it to me for safekeeping. Is there a problem with the sword?"

Nassar sensed Splurt's anger and retreated to the wall, frightened.

"Oleg willingly gave it to you?"

Splurt seemed to understand something, his teeth clenched in fury.

"Yes, yes."

"Fool!!!"

Upon hearing Nassar's response, Splurt threw the "Blaze Steed" to the ground in a fit of rage!

"You've been deceived by Oleg, Nassar!!"

Splurt picked up his cane, which was actually his wand, and assumed a battle stance.

Beneath its unassuming exterior lay a core tempered by time and combat.

Splurt's sudden aggression sent a chill through Nassar, who thought Splurt meant to kill him.

He quickly knelt and begged for mercy. "L-l-lord Splurt, I didn't know it was a fake! Please don't kill me! I can still help you..."

"Silence! Oleg won't give you another chance! Get up and prepare for battle, you idiot!" "Battle...?!" Nassar was utterly bewildered, unable to comprehend the situation.

But Splurt was not so foolish. He knew that his "old comrade" would soon make an entrance.

.

Splurt anxiously switched his gaze between the window and the door.

At this point, it was too late for him to withdraw; since that was the case, he might as well confront Oleg head-on.

If it came to a fight... Splurt was not unprepared.

Suddenly, the cabin door slammed down with a bang.

Standing outside was none other than Splurt's old comrade and feared adversary: Oleg, who appeared to have kicked the door down.

"Hmph, it's you, as I expected, Splurt."

Oleg strode into the room, stepping on the fallen door.

Clad in chainmail with iron gauntlets on his hands and a warhammer on his back, he was clearly prepared for battle.

"You old man, over seventy years old and still don't know how to knock?"

When old friends met, there was no joy in reunion, only mutual hostility and cold stares.

"You're playing the spy game with me, so why should I show you any courtesy?"

Oleg glanced at the still-kneeling Nassar and turned his gaze back to Splurt.

"Splurt, I came tonight to tell you to give up on the 'Blaze Steed.' That magic sword... I've already destroyed it!"

"Destroyed it?" Splurt scoffed, not believing that Oleg could be that ruthless.

"Do you think I'd believe your nonsense? Then how did you manage to forge the counterfeit that you had Nassar bring over? Don't tell me it's for commemoration, making several copies to keep as playthings. "

"Whether you believe it or not is up to you. Otherwise, ask Nassar. See if he found any clues about the 'Blaze Steed' during his many years infiltrating our Quest Guild."

Oleg suddenly directed the conversation toward Nassar, who was frightened and shrank against the wall, trembling and unable to speak.

Although Nassar didn't know the exact level of these two old men, he had heard plenty about their storied pasts in the Quest Guild.

Listening to their conversation, Nassar had a rough idea that he had been used by Oleg.

He didn't know when he had exposed himself, but that didn't matter now.

All Nassar wanted was to figure out how to save his life. He thought that since his status as a spy had been revealed, his only chance of survival was to side with Splurt.

.

Inside the cabin, Splurt and Oleg were engaged in a tense standoff.

"Nassar? Hmph, forget it. I have no hope for this useless waste." Splurt even spat in Nassar's direction.

As they spoke, Splurt was subtly sizing up Oleg. He was assessing and calculating, considering the possibility of a fight to the death with Oleg.

(To have such muscles at over seventy... Oleg, you old monster...)

ραΠdαsΝοvel.cοm In Splurt's eyes, Oleg's physical condition was indeed well-maintained. However, Oleg's shabby equipment provided Splurt with a glimmer of hope.

(But your ragged gear... you're underestimating me.)

"Oleg, don't think that uncovering my plan means you've won."

Splurt slammed his cane on the ground and continued, "Haven't you considered the possibility that I deliberately used Nassar to lure you here?"

.