Return of the Runebound Professor Chapter 867: Fair Play

“What I want is simple,” Mordred declared. He plunged his hands into the pockets of his heavy fur coat. “Answers to just a few questions are all I require. Research alone brought me here. The second I secure what I need, I’ll vanish from your presence. Nothing else.”

“What sort of questions?” Brayden inquired cautiously. His sword remained drawn, poised as if eager for any pretext to strike. “And why this fixation on Lee?”

“Why?” Mordred burst out, still searching through his coat. “What do you mean by why? How could anyone resist?”

“I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re getting at,” Brayden replied. “Frankly, I dislike every hint it suggests. You’re a creep.”

“Why do people keep calling me that?” Mordred wondered aloud. Muttering a curse, he yanked his hand from the pocket, flung open the other side of his jacket, and began digging immediately. “My motives are innocent! I’m merely a scholar! Doesn’t the quest for knowledge excite you?”

“Maybe because you haven’t revealed the knowledge you seek, and every phrase you utter drips with suspicion,” Noah pointed out. “Besides, you’ve pestered Lee for days now. You talked to her already, and she made plain she wanted no further dealings. That alone should’ve wrapped things up.”

Mordred halted. Brow creased, he gazed up at Noah. “Our talk wasn’t over yet.”

“Hurry it up,” Noah sighed. Though he itched to slay the man outright and end it, he doubted any clash with Mordred ended in their favor. Strong enough to drive Lee away, he posed a grave threat—even without the peril of slaying him and alerting the Prophet.

“I’m working on it,” Mordred replied. Glancing upward, his complexion had grown a shade lighter. “I, uh, appear to have lost my question list. It was right there moments ago, tucked in my jacket. Must’ve fallen out somehow.”

“A list?” Noah echoed. “Why not just pose the questions from memory—”

“Impossible!” Mordred barked. Shrugging off his jacket, he flung it to the floor. Noah’s eye spasmed. Countless pockets—at least twenty—lined the garment’s lining. Not mere flaps, but secured by snug buttons.

Buttons that defied Mordred’s frantic tugs. Desperately he wrestled them, fingers fumbling ever more wildly each instant. Sweat beaded and trickled down his forehead.

Brayden met Noah’s gaze.

“This is pathetic,” he lip-synced. With a sharp look at his blade, he implied ending Mordred’s torment swiftly before the farce dragged on.

Noah merely shook his head.

At last, Mordred pried one pocket loose. Thrusting inside, he extracted a tiny cracker. He gawked at it briefly.

Shoving it back, he leaped upright, flung the window wide, and thrust his head out.

“Which pocket held the—”

“Third from the left on—,” the voice answered mid-sentence. True to form, Mordred banged the window shut before the full reply landed.

“Aha!” Whirling to his jacket, Mordred dropped low and seized the specified pocket. He grappled the button moments longer till it yielded. Delving in, he crowed, “Got it! Let’s start!”

With a dramatic sweep, Mordred withdrew a stack of cards. Flashing Noah a broad smile, he stood tall, cleared his throat, turned the top card, and read aloud from its reverse.

“Do you enjoy traveling? My work sends me across the kingdom, and I wouldn’t match with someone content staying home.”

All eyes fixed on him.

“What?” Noah uttered.

Mordred froze briefly. He eyed the card, then the deck. Flipping another, curses erupted as he wrenched the window open anew, head protruding.

“You filthy wretch! Wrong stack! I sorted them apart! Fetch Lee’s questions, fool! Where’re they? Why drag out the dating cards? Why keep them at all?”

“You’re single, that’s why!” shot back the retort. “Questions are as instructed, moron! Third left, second row from bottom!”

Mordred stilled. Peering at his jacket, an exposed pocket gaped on the lower row. Clearing his throat, he muttered, “Ah. Right.”

Then the window slammed shut once more.

The man timidly leaned down toward the mentioned row, unfastened the pocket's button, and drew out yet another deck of cards. He deliberately shoved the first deck back into its proper pocket.

Noah questioned, “Was this how the last conversation went?” The secondhand shame hit so hard that part of him couldn't help but ponder if Mordred was deploying some technique to drive everyone in the room to self-destruction.

“Yeah,” Lee replied with a sigh. “Pretty much.”

“Okay,” Mordred declared. “Forget that last one. It was the dating deck. Now I've got the correct one. Let's start for real.”

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“Why do you even have a dating deck?” Brayden inquired.

“Because I'm single,” Mordred answered. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Yes,” Brayden agreed. “Incredibly so. Have you considered that you might be single because of the dating deck?”

“What?” Mordred blinked in confusion. “Nonsense. Those questions matter a lot. Just not as much as these ones. Now please, don't distract me anymore. I'm here to document one of the rarest monsters I've ever encountered properly. Now, Lee, please — tell me about where you're from? Not the precise spot. I don't require that. Just the gist. Do your people play games? Do they sing? What's their purpose?”

“What do you take me for?” Lee asked, her brow creasing. “I hail from the Damned Plains. I'm a demon. We did demon stuff.”

“You're way more than a mere demon,” Mordred shot back with a hearty laugh. He jabbed a finger toward Lee. “You're unique. I just want to know if others like you exist.”

Noah suppressed the faint frown creeping onto his features. Somehow, Mordred had deduced Lee wasn't an ordinary demon from their brief exchanges. His perception had to be extraordinarily sharp — and there remained no clue how he'd trailed them across Aqua Terra’s anti-domain field.

Lee's brow wrinkled deeper as she mulled over Mordred’s query. Then she shook her head. “No. There's just one Lee.”

“Is Lee your name? Or your species?”

“Are you an idiot?”

“Right. It's your name,” Mordred confirmed. He cleared his throat, then snatched another card. “How did you shatter my magic that way? It felt like you chomped straight into my soul.”

“I'm not revealing my abilities,” Lee stated bluntly. “Why would I? That's utterly foolish.”

“Hmm. True enough,” Mordred conceded with a wise nod. He swapped the card for a new one. “Are there demons like you? Maybe not identical, but advanced? Distinct from the usual ones?”

Lee shrugged. “I suppose?”

“Lots of them?”

“Not answering that.”

“Can I talk to any?”

“No,” Lee refused. “You'd pester them.”

“Oh.” Mordred's expression drooped. Oddly, he accepted the answer without protest. “I guess I would. Then… do you know how your evolution occurred? You clearly recognize your difference from other demons. Was it innate from birth? Or a later change?”

Lee hesitated briefly. Mordred’s probes edged too near secrets they couldn't afford to leak. Even if demons weren't as dreaded in Obsidia as in Arbalest, broadcasting a method to strip a demon’s rune weakness seemed disastrous. Best outcome: demons flooding from across the empire begging for freedom from their limits. Worst… Noah preferred not to dwell on it.

“Not answering that one either,” Lee declared. “Can I just say 'I don't want to answer' for all your questions ahead of time?”

“If you'd been born this way, you'd have no reason to hide it. You don't deny being unlike other demons,” Mordred pointed out. A sly grin tugged at his mouth. “Refusing to explain how you became this way suggests it happened — something repeatable, I'd wager. A unique event wouldn't bother you to mention.”

Noah's gaze sharpened just a touch. Mordred proved far keener than his antics implied. Eliminating him was starting to seem like the smartest move. Regrettably, his flashy arrival created such chaos that, even if Noah could erase him instantly, too many witnesses linked him to slaying a Prophet's agent.

“Where's this going?” Noah demanded. “What's the purpose here?”

“The purpose?” Mordred echoed. He cocked his head, truly puzzled. “What do you mean? This is science. Art. Questioning is living. Learning is being. Knowledge pursuit needs no other goal.”

“And how long do you think we'll keep dodging questions like this?” Noah pressed. “We've got a tournament waiting, and I fail to see what Lee gains from humoring a stalker.”

“I’m no stalker,” Mordred declared. “My curiosity is strictly professional. I collect information. Nothing more.”

“That still doesn’t explain why she owes you any conversation,” Brayden countered. He drummed a finger on his sword’s hilt. “It’s entirely one-sided. Not fair at all.”

“Are you suggesting a trade of knowledge?” Mordred inquired. “I’d gladly share more details about myself.”

“Why should anyone care about you?” Brayden shot back in astonishment. “But your rank would be useful to hear.”

“Rank 6,” Mordred answered right away. “My Keystone rune is Lifethread. I’m 4 runes into my advancement. I was born in the Coral Empire and grew up—”

“We don’t require your full backstory. No time for that anyway,” Noah interrupted, noting that this strange fellow outpowered most folks they’d seen in Arbalest by a wide margin. “And honestly, we couldn’t care less.”

“To swap info, give us stuff that actually concerns us,” Lee added, nodding. “Something on the tournament, say.”

Mordred rubbed the side of his neck thoughtfully. “Not certain that’d fly.”

“No useful trade? Then we’re done talking,” Noah stated bluntly.

“Wait, no. Not like that,” Mordred hurried. “I just can’t reveal key tournament details yet. They’re locked down tight until it starts.”

“Useless, then.” Noah shrugged. “We’ve indulged you plenty. This—”

“But!” Mordred thrust a finger skyward. “There’s another path. I’m not abandoning my research—it’s far too vital. How about a deal instead?”

Lee’s gaze sharpened. “What sort of deal?”

“Monsters aren’t my only study,” Mordred grinned slyly. “Runes intrigue me too. I excel at decoding their functions. Join you in the tournament, and I’ll analyze your foes’ runes from their battles. It’ll skyrocket your progress.”

“What gives you the idea we require assistance?” Brayden challenged.

“None of you hit Rank 6. Aqua Terra’s disruption field works well, yet tricks exist to push domain edges past it,” Mordred shrugged. “Facing Obsidia’s top Rank 6s? You’ll need serious support.”

“Sounds like cheating,” Lee pointed out.

“Tournaments test strength. Knowledge equals strength. So this isn’t cheating—it’s leveraging your resources.”

A clever spin on bending the rules.

Yet, as a teacher with a regrettable flaw, Noah actually favored shortcuts.

He looked toward Lee.

She offered a casual one-shoulder shrug. Mordred barely registered beyond ‘irritating’ on her issue meter.

“We could accept that. But first, hand over something.” Noah demanded, jabbing a finger at Mordred’s jacket. “That first deck of yours.”

“Huh? My dating deck?” Mordred’s forehead creased.

“Exactly,” Noah confirmed. “Just for a sec.”

Mordred shrugged indifferently. He fished the deck from his pocket and passed it to Noah. “What for—”

Noah unleashed a thread of Unraveling Disruption’s might. Furious violet-pink fissures ripped across the cards, dissolving them to dust instantly.

“Perfect,” Noah remarked, lowering his hand. “Alright. Deal’s on.”