Chapter 19: The Road to Yakaro Town

The carriage rolled steadily along the even road. Mo Ya reclined atop its cargo canopy, his gaze sweeping over the landscape beyond the academy.

Akuma, meanwhile, was deep in slumber within the cargo hold. It was the height of noon, and the sun’s weariness had descended upon them both without mercy. Mo Ya, too, felt a faint trace of drowsiness.

The carriage continued its journey, an endless green prairie unfurling before them. The coachman slowed his pace, calling out to Mo Ya on the canopy, as if seeking to alleviate the solitude of the long trip.

The coachman appeared quite helpless. In the past, when carrying goods and passengers, his clients would invariably engage him in lively conversation, discussing everything under the sun.

Such exchanges made the dull hours fly by, and by the time they reached their destination, their conversation would naturally draw to a close. Yet, these two passengers were remarkably quiet, offering him no words at all.

Boredom steadily grew within the coachman. Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, he initiated a conversation with Mo Ya on the canopy.

“Hey, with such intense sunlight, why are you still perched on the canopy?”

The coachman’s voice reached Mo Ya’s ears, but he offered no reply.

“Ah… haha… ignoring me, are we?”

The coachman’s expression was a mix of awkwardness and embarrassment. To ease the situation, he merely cracked his whip, refocusing his attention on driving the carriage.

Though the coachman’s attempt to converse with Mo Ya had failed, the small interruption had roused Akuma from her sleep in the cargo hold.

Akuma rubbed her bleary eyes, clambering out of the swaying carriage hold to settle into the passenger seat beside the driver.

“Good morning, Mr. Coachman.”

Slowly, Akuma’s vision sharpened, and she offered a friendly greeting to the coachman, who was fully engrossed in his driving.

However, Mo Ya’s voice, ill-timed, drifted down from the canopy.

“Idiot, it’s noon.”

“You slacker are so bothersome! You’ve only just learned to condense magic, so why are you acting so arrogant?”

Akuma retorted with disdain, crossing her arms over her chest. While this pose offered no particular advantage in her disguise as a male, she could think of no other gesture to convey her scorn.

“Good afternoon.”

To the bored and awkward coachman, Akuma’s appearance was nothing short of an oasis in the desert. He seized the opportunity to talk without hesitation, for he truly felt he would go mad otherwise.

Thus, he offered a benevolent smile, and as he did, wrinkles fanned out from the corners of his eyes. Akuma immediately deduced that the coachman was somewhat advanced in years, clearly a seasoned driver.

“Speaking of which, I just heard the word ‘magic.’ Are you two perhaps mages?”

The coachman urged the two black horses onward, and the carriage turned off the road, entering the forest.

Mo Ya gazed at the green canopy spreading above, comparing it to the map from their departure. He pinpointed their current location.

Once they passed through this forest, they would reach Yakaro Town.

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the tree canopy, making the forest noticeably cooler than the open road had been.

Mo Ya closed his eyes once more, listening to the birdsong in the forest and the conversation of the two below.

“Something like that. Is there a problem?”

“No, I’m just curious because of your age. After all, I’ve never driven mages so young.”

The coachman laughed heartily, his gaze still fixed on the path ahead.

“When I was young, I also dreamed of becoming a mage, fighting to the death as a kingdom warrior against those evil Corruptors. But it wasn’t meant to be; I didn’t have the aptitude for magic.

I had no choice but to become a coachman. At least this way, mages can have a little less travel before battle, which I suppose is my contribution to the kingdom.”

The coachman spoke, but Akuma’s expression grew subtle.

A warrior’s glory… she herself had once been one, but was it truly glorious? Was it something to be proud of?

Whether one was a puppet or a mage, the fate of battle was predetermined.

Regardless of the reason, there was only one purpose for fighting: to eradicate the Corruptors, leaving not a single one behind.

‘Yes, this is humanity’s destiny,’ Akuma decided for no particular reason.

But almost simultaneously, a sudden memory surfaced in her mind—the words of the person who had awakened her emotions, the one who had pulled her from the Puppet organization.

[And you, you can consider me your destiny… I will wait, wait for the moment you can truly stand before me.]

Akuma unconsciously clenched her fists, her gaze fixed on the seemingly boundless forest stretching before them.

‘If that’s the case… I’ll make you my destiny. Then, I’ll fulfill my promise and utterly shatter that destiny.’

“A warrior’s glory, huh? When I get stronger, perhaps I can fight for the kingdom too.”

“Right, right! Mages are indeed very cool!”

The coachman’s laughter grew even heartier and louder as he spoke. He seemed quite fond of Akuma.

“I may not be able to, but you two can. Magic is a gift from the heavens, meant to give you the power to protect what you wish to protect. Go forth, young ones; you are destined for greatness.”

“Thank you.”

Akuma nodded, expressing her gratitude to the coachman.

On the carriage roof, Mo Ya slowly opened his eyes. His dark pupils held an inscrutable, profound gaze.

He raised his right arm, the Ouroboros resting quietly upon it.

“Power, is it for protecting what one wishes to protect?”

He murmured to himself, a question forming about the answer to this query.

Yet, it was only for a moment. Mo Ya quickly found his answer, lowering his raised right arm as he closed his eyes once more.

Power was merely a prerequisite for becoming stronger. And the purpose of becoming stronger was singular: to break the shackles of destiny.

To live truly “free.”

The carriage swayed with a steady, rhythmic motion. The coachman, in high spirits, hummed a tune. Then, as if recalling something important, he once again posed a question to Akuma.

“By the way, your destination is Yakaro Town, isn’t it?”

“Is there a problem?”

Akuma turned her head, casting a questioning look at the coachman.

Upon receiving her answer, the coachman exclaimed in surprise. Previously, unaware they were mages, he had simply assumed they were heading to Yakaro’s town center to purchase supplies, but now things were different.

Because…

“The outskirts of that place have become a Corruptor’s nest.”