Chapter 375 - Foundation Stone (1)
Right after Ignacia left, mana detection spread within the lord's castle began working normally again.
Not only that, but the walls and pillars that Verden had smashed, and even the paintings and other decorations, were all restored to their original state.
'Was the castle itself an illusion? Or did the illusion itself become reality?'
Verden tried to analyze it by mere thought, but… as expected, it was impossible to see through.
He had neither witnessed nor directly experienced Ignacia's Mado.
Judging by the fact that [Ainber] did not react, the only conclusion he could draw was that it was some kind of complex system within the mental realm.
"Hm? You're already here?"
"Welcome, Asher-nim. By any chance, did you not see Lord Liam…?"
Keirel and Mires appeared from their respective chambers, yawning or rubbing their eyes.
It seemed they had been forced into slumber by mental domination. That explained why they were completely unaware of who had come and gone.
And Adrian was discovered in the underground storage of the lord's castle.
Fortunately, he was unharmed.
With a guilty expression, he greeted Verden and bowed his head.
"I am sorry. I failed to protect the castle."
"It is not your fault."
Of course not.
It had been a Transcendent, and a sudden ambush at that, without the slightest warning—how could anyone possibly have stopped it?
Even if Verden himself had been present, protecting the castle would have been impossible. The aftershocks of the battle would have destroyed everything regardless.
For a Transcendent to even say directly that he had been a nuisance, that in itself meant Adrian had fought enough.
But Adrian, as if unable to accept it, sat on the roof of the castle and immediately fell into meditation.
He did not ask, but surely Adrian was recalling the process of being subdued by Ignacia and tempering himself through it.
Keirel looked at Adrian from afar.
"It's been a while since I've seen him this serious. He used to look like that sometimes, back when he was beaten senseless in sparring by my uncle."
"By uncle, you mean his master?"
"Adrian's self-esteem is extremely high, you know that yourself. He never even wanted to lose to his own master, Uncle Raymon. That's what it means to be a Genius, right?"
Recalling the past, Keirel leaned her body against the window frame.
"Well, he faced a Transcendent, who wouldn't be defeated… but wasn't Ignacia's direct arrival supposed to be kept secret?"
Verden nodded.
"Correct."
"Then why tell me? What for?"
Restricting information was important.
Like the flutter of a butterfly's wings bringing about a storm, one careless word could lead to unforeseen consequences.
And yet, Verden shared the information with Keirel, because she was an old acquaintance of Adrian, a longtime friend and ally.
In other words, it was not a relationship of exploitation.
"We will have to move together from now on, so there's no reason to hide it."
"Ah… Eh? No, I mean, I was going to help, but that's news to me. When did I become one of your allies?"
"From the moment you saw the dragon's bones."
"…So I got roped in?"
"You did."
"Ha."
Realizing she had been recruited without even knowing it, Keirel looked dumbfounded.
But she did not say things like I refuse, I want to live quietly, I take it back.
After all, had he asked her to join hands, she would have accepted anyway.
Keirel still carried the memory of Raymon's death—Adrian's master, the one who had cared for her when she was dying.
Keirel stole a glance at the meditating Adrian, sighed, and nodded.
"Fine. But don't expect too much. I'm just an ordinary beastman who knows how to fight a bit."
"Of course. On that note, I have a favor to ask."
"Already? Uh, no, fine. Speak."
"Could you spread a rumor of unknown origin, outside this land, beyond the Ownerless Land?"
A rumor?
"If you've got money, I can do that much… but what's the content? Something complicated?"
"Nothing like that. Just one sentence."
Verden spoke.
"A merchant guild holding dragon materials, Licentia, is heading toward Gargant… that's all."
***
People instinctively fear the unknown. Thus, they wish to know their future, their fate.
Fortune tellers made their living from that human desire and fear.
"Hm, let's see now…"
The fortune teller lifted his head high.
His eyes fell upon the night sky that followed right after the sunset faded.
Staring intently at the countless stars veiled by moonlight, he said.
"Oh dear. It seems I cannot read your star."
The young man in a robe tilted his head.
"Why? Something wrong?"
"Well, at some point a strange star appeared… and its light has begun to cover the surrounding stars. I cannot read them. Worse, the light keeps spreading, so the star that seems to be yours is no longer visible."
"You're sure you didn't just see it wrong?"
"How dare you speak so rudely? There are things one can say and things one cannot. Tch."
The fortune teller exhaled roughly, as if exasperated.
Regardless, the man said,
"Then shuffle the cards."
"…Very well."
The fortune teller wanted to throw the man out immediately, but gritted his teeth and barely held back.
Judging by his tone and attitude, the man was surely trouble.
Rather than argue with such a nuisance, it was wiser to say something pleasant and end the session.
That was wisdom earned through experience.
The fortune teller picked up the deck of cards.
Since the result was already decided anyway, he shuffled half-heartedly, drew five cards, and laid them out.
Wetting his lips with saliva, he exclaimed with feigned awe.
"Oh!! It says you will soon have an unexpected encounter!"
"Yeah? What kind of encounter?"
"That I cannot know, but surely a good one. Perhaps you'll meet someone you haven't seen in a long time… or find someone you've been searching for?"
The fortune teller laughed heartily, then gathered the cards. Watching the man's reaction, he began packing his tools neatly into a bag.
Having already dealt with such an annoying client, he thought of comforting himself at a fine inn with the day's earnings.
Just then, the man asked.
"Finding someone I've been searching for. I like the sound of that. But before I go, just one more question."
"Ask."
"Fortune tellers claim to peek at fate, don't they? Then you must know what will happen to yourself too?"
"Hm? What do you—ugh!?"
The man grabbed the fortune teller's face, and poured an entire green potion into his mouth.
"Trash too useless even for an experiment dares to read my fate? But you cannot even see your own future. Doesn't that strike you as absurd?"
The fortune teller's eyes went wide as the unknown liquid coursed into his body.
He struggled, gagging, to escape the man's grip, but the substance had already been absorbed.
His body began to melt from within, and in moments he was reduced to nothing but a pool of blood.
"Well, at least it killed some boredom."
The man, Rayshen, lightly tapped the ground with his foot.
He covered the blood with soil, then casually raised a flame to burn the fortune teller's belongings to ashes.
Having relieved his boredom somewhat, Rayshen stretched.
At that moment, his direct escort, Sarokan, approached.
"Rayshen-nim, a command has arrived from the Bohemirn magic tower. It comes directly from the tower master."
"From my master? Don't tell me… it's about the dragon?"
"It is. You are to suspend your current mission, join with the fourth disciple, Rovellin-nim, and acquire the material. At any cost."
"Ah, I guessed as much when I read the papers. Of course, he wouldn't just let it pass."
Rayshen sighed and rubbed his face.
Everyone would be after the dragon's bones, so chaos was inevitable.
"Besides, the fact that I'm in the Central Continent must not be exposed. Haa, if only I'd found that test subject Isabella earlier, I would still be locked up in the tower."
Isabella, who had escaped with the forced magic circle still carved onto her body, had not yet been found.
The direction of the magic circle engraved on the pendant had shifted much compared to before, but there was still distance left.
Progress was slow for three reasons.
First, the pendant's reuse cooldown was as long as five days.
Second, Isabella was traveling long distances.
Third, the Central Continent was absurdly vast.
Unfamiliar with the long journey, Rayshen had grown weary.
Honestly, he wished he could abandon everything and return to the tower's laboratory.
'Still, if Master commands it, I must obey.'
There was no helping it.
The tower master, Balrog Bessias, that Transcendent, abhorred any harm to his authority…
Rayshen dreaded the thought of that wrath turning toward him.
Resignation was not a choice.
"…Let's go. So, where is Rovellin waiting?"
"I shall guide you."
***
At the center of a city stood a grand building, its splendid stage within.
Hundreds of people filled the audience seats.
Nobles, merchants, citizens, adventurers, mercenaries, Mages—the composition was diverse, regardless of class or occupation.
Normally, such a mix might spark friction and ruin the atmosphere, but now the hall was simply quiet.
All gazes were fixed on a single point.
At the center of the stage that captivated their minds stood a woman.
The protagonist with beautiful dark-green hair.
She was both a musician and a singer, a performer whose presence alone exceeded that of an orchestra.
Tonight's instrument was the lute.
───! ─! ──!
Each time her pale fingers plucked the strings in dazzling motion, the sound resonated…
The resonance alone was enough to take one's breath away, but then her clear voice, like rolling jade beads, blended in. Words could not describe it.
It was, truly, perfect harmony.
"Ah…"
The noblewoman holding a fan shed tears before she realized it. Her makeup threatened to smudge, yet she had no leisure to wipe it away with a handkerchief.
She could not take her eyes off the woman on stage for the entire evening.
It stirred her very soul.
When she looked at the stage, no other thought came to mind.
So it was for every member of the audience.
At last, when the performance ended.
In the silence that followed, the woman rose from her chair.
The audience did not cheer, instead they held their breath, sending her looks filled with expectation.
"..."
The woman took out a peculiar gold coin.
It was not a currency in common use.
It was a golden coin stamped with her own face.
Tiiing.
Quietly watching the audience, the woman hurled the coin high toward the sky.
Striking the stage machinery installed along the ceiling, it bounced irregularly before falling downward.
Soon, it landed in the hand of the noblewoman who had wept.
Smiling, the woman offered her blessing.
"May fortune, be with you."
The most talked-about Genius musician in today's music world.
Her true name hidden in mystery, people called her the "Melodist of Fortune".
The nickname arose from her unique habit, of sometimes tossing a golden coin after a performance, praying for fortune.
At that moment, the audience began clapping. Countless thunderous claps shook the entire building.
It was both praise for an indescribable performance, and congratulations for the spectator who had become the lucky recipient of fortune.
Overcome with emotion, the noblewoman who received the coin clapped while sobbing uncontrollably.
Her thick makeup had been erased, leaving her face in ruins, but she felt no shame.
Leaving the finished stage behind, the woman stepped away.
Without a moment of rest, she boarded the large carriage waiting outside the building.
"Depart."
The coachman cracked the reins.
Two muscular steeds began to move forward.
Moments later, as they left the city, the carriage broke into a gallop.
The evening glow vanished below the horizon, and darkness full of starlight spread across the land.
Naturally, the carriage slowed its pace.
The woman gazed out the window at the dark scenery of nature.
Then, something appeared to be blocking the road.
A luxurious-looking carriage, guarded by armed men.
The coachman asked.
"What is this about?"
"There's business with the Melodist of Fortune inside. No harm will be done, so stay put."
They were no mere bandits.
The coachman lowered his gaze, ready to react, but at that moment, the woman herself opened the door and stepped outside.
"You have business with me?"
A beauty unlike any he had ever seen in his life.
There was no time to fuss about her informal speech. The voice brushing his ear made him swallow his breath as he said,
"It may be sudden, but my master wishes to invite you to dine. Not far from here there's a villa, by a small lake with beautiful scenery."
The woman's eyes shifted slightly.
From inside the obstructing carriage, a middle-aged man stuck out his face, licking his lips as he looked at her.
His eyes were filled with lust.
The woman folded her arms.
"A master, so a noble? Which house?"
"Haha, you'll learn that in conversation with my master. Now, come along. You won't regret it."
The man reached out to grab her shoulder.
A chill passed through her gaze.
"How dare you."
In that instant, mana burst forth from the woman.
Without time to evade, the blue veil swept over the master and his men alike.
"Uh? What the—"
Immediately, the man nearest the woman felt dizzy and dropped to his knees.
"Huh?" Confused, he raised his head.
She was a beauty, yes, but what seized his sight first was something else.
His left arm.
The arm he had stretched toward her was withering like a corpse in the desert.
This, it could not be stopped.
Soon, his whole body lost all moisture, collapsing into dust.
The others behind him met the same fate.
Ignoring resistance, all the blood in their bodies evaporated.
Even the carriage began disintegrating into tiny particles, losing its form.
A blood-red mist, and beneath it dozens of mummies formed.
It happened too swiftly for any screams. With a light gesture of her hand, a fierce wind rose, grinding every trace into dust until nothing remained.
"..."
The woman quelled her mana.
And as if on cue, the hateful magic circle carved into her body responded.
Cough, she spat blood and sank to her knees.
Chiiii.
The blood that dripped from her lips corroded the ground.
The coachman approached.
"Even against such rabble, must you push yourself so far?"
"Haa, haa… Spare me that line. It's not the first time, is it. I have to get used to it, one way or another."
Her voice, not giving the reason, was laden with unease.
"As I said before, if you keep complaining, you can leave. You've done more than enough already."
"Hah, abandon you, when you who saved my wife and child suffer so? You're the one who shouldn't say such things."
The coachman let out a sigh.
"Even after all these years, I don't know your name. And since you never tell me, I've no idea what hunts you. But I know well enough it must be something dreadful."
"..."
"Better to just run."
"I've done nothing but run until now, and you tell me to do it again?"
"If you keep running, perhaps someday you'll find a way to live."
Keep running…
The woman wiped the blood from her lips, and smiled faintly.
'But I'm too tired for that.'
She rose with difficulty.
Rejecting the coachman's support, she staggered back into the carriage.
Taking heavy breaths, she said.
"Before long, we'll be heading to Gargant. Keep that in mind."
"The great city? Why there all of a sudden…?"
"Licentia is going there, isn't it. They'll surely use Ignacia's Scales, so we must take on that performance."
"Ah, the dragon's bones. I see. Yes, I understand. With your skill, you'd be sought even by a Transcendent. It will be a stage remembered in history."
The coachman nodded as he drove the carriage on.
The woman, watching the moving scenery outside again, sank into thought.
'The final performance, perhaps.'
She did not say it to the coachman, but surely, the stage at Gargant would be her retirement performance.
For there, Bohemirn magic tower would come, chasing the magic circle forced onto her body…
Would it be the tower master's first disciple, Crodon?
That would be best, but even if it were another disciple, it mattered not.
'Whoever it is, I'll kill them.'
Without fail.
She would lure them into an inescapable trap, and personally end their lives.
Cruelly, painfully.
Just as her family had been trampled, her younger siblings and retainers murdered in misery.
So would she pour out all the resentment of what had been taken from her until now.
If she could leave Bohemirn magic tower with a scar that would never fade, she would gladly embrace death.
The woman, Isabella, smiled soundlessly.
In her heart, only resignation and vengeance remained.
***
Verden's current purpose was the construction of power.
He needed a group that would not betray one another, and that could stand against the might of Bohemirn magic tower.
'An exceedingly difficult task.'
Verden, like Adrian, was a peer.
But how many bore hostility toward Bohemirn magic tower, and would act on it?
He might scour the world and gather a few, but to fill dozens, hundreds of seats, was a remote prospect.
Yet after the battle with the bone dragon, Verden's perspective had shifted a little.
Thus, before Ignacia held her auction, he intended to meet with a group he had once deemed unfit as a foundation.
'I wonder what it will be like.'
Verden lowered his gaze.
On his palm, the emblem of the Society gleamed in the blue light.
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