Chapter 195
Chapter 195
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 195
Chapter Title: Wizard of Wizards (15)
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Chapter 11. Wizard of Wizards (15)
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[Empire / Dangerous Area / Storm Hill]
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Hazard Level: ★★★★ (Makes you suicidal regardless of player ability.)
Features: The only special structure across all of 3 Worlds where wind mages can 'reside' permanently. At least 40 wind mages live there constantly. Hometown of wind mages worldwide. The only place where they regain their stability.
Geopolitically, it refers to the entire Storm Hill where winds from nearby valleys converge, but when ordinary people say Storm Hill, they mean the 'Home Felix' building at the peak.
Location and Entry Method: Southwest rocky region of the Empire. 'Home Felix' is at the highest elevation nearby, so it's easy to spot, but entry is not recommended. You need permission from the infamous 'very cranky wind mage gatekeeper'. It might actually be easier to kill them than get permission, but the moment you do, you'll be swarmed by mages and beaten to death like a dog.
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"Wowwww...."
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It's better to seek help from other mages floating near the protruding hill. Of course, shouting loudly for help might destabilize the mages who've only just found peace here, so use a quiet method. They sleep soundly, so use a fishing rod or something to reel one in.
Caution: Atop Storm Hill, there's a building called 'Felix Home' that looks like modern art. Under no circumstances—absolutely no circumstances—should you damage it even slightly. This is the most sacred place in the lives of these crazy wind mages, and the Empire has publicly declared that anyone attacking it will be considered an enemy of the state, regardless of status.
If you're heavy, ask for a levitation spell beforehand. If your shoes are metal, take them off before entering.
Once more: do not provoke them. From inside, they seem warm, diligent, and kind mages, but the moment you accidentally provoke them, you'll experience the otherworldly wrath of the world's most unhinged wind mages with your whole body. From experience, if you only end up injured or dead, you're extremely lucky.
Author: Magic the Gardening
Editor: Speed Wagon
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"Ughhh, ughhhh—"
"Professor. What's wrong with you since earlier? If your stomach hurts, we should stop and rest....?"
"It's not that. I just.... saw something horrifying."
Judging by Ottoman's expression, he looked like he thought, 'Did this guy eat something bad?' And understandably so. To him, it must've looked like I'd been staring blankly into space and groaning.
Of course, in reality, it was my desperate struggle to find a breakthrough for this quest.
Know your enemy, and you'll win every battle.
If I had to go somewhere I absolutely didn't want to—even if it killed me—knowing about the opponent was the best preparation.
So I'd skimmed the info on Storm Hill, and every single letter was utterly repulsive.
How could it be page after page of nothing but horrors? Know your enemy and yourself, and you'll never be in peril. So why did learning about the enemy only highlight my own peril? The guide was all 'oh, there's this kind of strategy~', but nothing solid on what to actually do inside.
I figured a major Empire facility would have at least basic info, but nope. Beyond the name, building, and gate NPC, there was zilch. That meant it was an incredibly closed-off, high-difficulty place.
The Professor decided to investigate personally once they reached the Empire. He'd suffered so much from lack of info during the matriarch incident; this time had to be different.
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'That aside, it's surprisingly peaceful. This is definitely the same forest we entered.'
About an hour since leaving the village.
Compared to the horde of undead that ambushed them the moment they strayed from the path upon first arrival, their current progress was incomparably easier.
Just moments ago, he'd been walking forward in a daze, not even vigilant, lost in thought. Far from sneaking, the group was chatting casually, with Lucilla picking roadside weeds as she followed. It felt too peaceful for the heart of Blue Line.
The reason the mountain trek had become this easy was, naturally, their new elf companion, Yggdrasil.
"....Hold. Two fang wolves are moving. We'll skirt below the ridgeline."
When Yggdrasil, scouting ahead, raised her hand to halt the group, everyone immediately stopped what they were doing and silently followed the elf.
Her pointed ears twitched amid her blue half-elf locks, and her hand on the ground read the earth in time with her shallow breaths for a few minutes.
"....They're gone. Let's move."
The moment she gave permission, the group exhaled held breaths and spoke.
"Truly astonishingly capable. Doesn't this make us look like idiots for charging through undead and beasts like wild men?"
"Wowww.... I'd heard rumors, but an elf's abilities in the forest are really.... Some caravans supposedly bring elf slaves en masse into Blue Line when securing high-end goods gets tough. But even they suffer heavy losses just working the mountain foothills alongside elves. Aren't we having it too easy? Is this the difference between elf slaves and a free elf.... Whoops!"
Lucilla realized her slip mid-sentence and clapped a hand over her mouth. Even as a half-elf, bringing up elf slaves in front of an elf.
Fortunately, Yggdrasil didn't seem to mind much and answered her question.
"Elves can't communicate easily with every tree. Like humans feeling awkward with a stranger, the elf-tree relationship is similar. As an elf who's lived in this Blue Line, I've familiarized myself with most trees here and can hear their warnings. That's all. Human girl.... Lucilla, was it? The elves she mentioned had been away from forests so long their senses had atrophied completely, so they couldn't perform at full potential."
"Or they deliberately withheld warnings about ambushes, planning to escape in the chaos."
The exiled elves here were unusually human-friendly. Elves were typically known for their arrogance and mercilessness. They pursued peace, but only for their own community.
When the Professor added that, Yggdrasil furrowed her brow slightly and rebutted.
"I disagree. Elves don't linger in such 'unpeaceful' states. Even we half-elves, whose elven purity is diluted, avoid it—let alone pure elves who've endured hardships."
"Umm. Sorry, Miss Yggdrasil, but there are countless worse cases. There was an incident where an elf slave secretly grew poison herbs and poisoned a water jar, wiping out a whole family. Even now, near elf forests, loggers seeking rare timber get killed by elves, their bodies hung from trees—not infrequently. And that was just the forest edge, where they wouldn't normally encounter anyone...."
"They were exiled from Carnelan precisely because they might pollute that 'communal consciousness'. It's natural you can't understand them by your common sense. They were filtered out because they couldn't blend in, and you grew up among Carnelan's elves."
"If that's true.... I can't quite grasp it with my common sense. We don't live that way, so how...."
Yggdrasil looked back at him with an expression like 'A good elf wouldn't do that.' Seeing her innocent face sparked a realization.
'....Now I get why the matriarch sent Yggdrasil with us.'
At 70 years old, divide by 5 for mental age around 14. Not a first-generation Carnelan exile weathered by the human world, but a second-generation born and raised there. Physically mature, but mentally immature—perfectly naive and ripe for exploitation.
The matriarch wanted this pure, ignorant half-elf to taste the 'bitterness of the world' properly this time. After thorough vetting, she'd entrusted her to reliable humans, ensuring Yggdrasil—who might outlive her and become the next 'matriarch'—wouldn't remain a frog in a well.
'No idea if she's three hundred something, but elves stop growing physically at 15, and that wrinkled face shows her lifespan is waning. Maybe.... not much time left.'
The matriarch had refused to leave the village despite his pleas, never explaining why. If it was something unspeakable, and her farewell words to Yggdrasil weren't empty....
'....Damn it.'
"Yggdrasil."
"Yes."
"What do you think of the matriarch, your mother?"
Caught off-guard by the sudden question, Yggdrasil slowed slightly before continuing nonchalantly.
"I don't know the intent, but she means as much to me as any mother to her child."
"....I see."
Of course. What else?
The Professor recalled the voice—clearly magical—that whispered in his ear just before leaving.
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[Teach her well.]
'Gah! What.... Matriarch's voice?'
[Teach her well. But don't go teaching her 'everything' to the end.]
'What does that....'
[....Halfwit? Never mind if you don't get it. May your path end in peace. It was nice meeting you.]
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The message ended after saying its piece, before he could grasp it. Fingering his ear, crushed flower petals crumbled away—she must've secretly planted a seed during that 'sparring' assault disguised as training.
He'd thought it was just 'be careful'.
"Sighhh. Really. What a burden...."
"What's wrong? Was there a problem with my answer?"
"No. Just realizing she's a grandmother who never cut anyone slack from start to finish. Yggdrasil, elves who've lived here long like you can observe the forest through the trees, right?"
"Yes."
"Can we see too?"
"It's the trees' perception, so very different from seeing with your own eyes, but yes."
"Right. So that's how it is...."
The Professor glanced at the dense surrounding woods, then slowed his brisk pace.
"....Let's go a bit slower then."
"Slower.... you say?"
"Yeah. You'll be away from the forest awhile, so take in your homeland while you can."
"At this pace, we might eat lunch tomorrow on the human-paved road. I heard you need to finish this mission ASAP and return to Lordric—"
"Ssh! I've~ got my reasons, so just roll with it."
"....Yes."
Yggdrasil pondered briefly, then slowed to match the group's side. She couldn't understand why this human man was changing his mind, but his voice—usually light—held deep resonance this time. For some reason, her steps away from the village felt oddly heavy.
'....Must be leaving the forest.'
Thinking that, Yggdrasil lifted her head to etch one more glimpse of her beloved homeland woods.
Swaaaa—
Suddenly, wind rustled through the leaves, brushing her long hair.
****
Two days later, the Professor's group finally escaped the endless maze of trees and reached a path thick with human touch.
"Halt. State your identity, outsiders. Move a muscle, and per Empire defense laws, your head is forfeit."
Of course, the humans guarding that path came with it.
'Empire knights. Definitely a cut above the church's holy knights guarding the other side.'
Even by eye, the difference was stark. Superior warhorses leagues beyond ordinary mounts, plate mail dust-caked but emanating faint mana—clearly enchanted.
The dry scabbard marks and spotless broadsword gleaming like new confirmed it.
'Armor, tack, cloak—all oiled and maintained, but signs of long-term field duty. Yet the sword shows none. Not a fresh blade today by chance.... Aura user. Aura blades don't chip until meeting another aura user, and blood or oil doesn't stick.'
Minimum aura user. The Empire's vast lands bred experts like stars, enough to post one even on this fringe Ley Line.
Yggdrasil had warned of the mounted figure ahead, so they'd made noise chatting loudly to announce themselves. But it hadn't eased their vigilance much.
As the knight seemed ready to swing, the Professor stepped forward—only for someone quicker.
Swoosh!
"Blond with green eyes, sword user. Lion-head crest with three on the tack. Might you be Knight Demicas of the Vizillen family?"
Lucilla, who'd stubbornly insisted on walking despite his fare talk, only to collapse before a day and ride the cart.
He'd thought her silence meant sleep, but she'd changed into a neat dress from her grubby caravan clothes, tamed her frizzy red hair, and gracefully lifted her skirt hem from the cart like a proper lady....
Prod, prod prod prod!
'....What?'
['Seriously, human! Use some sense!']
Her eyes shot that message as her leather boot tip jabbed his back repeatedly. Fair enough—jumping down in that outfit would've ruined the look.
Whatever she'd prepared, he'd play along.
A lady. A young lady who knew the family name. Cheat key against knights.
Proving it, the knight sheathed his sword upon her sweet smile after delicately dismounting with his escort arm. Lifting his visor, his bewildered face showed as he bowed slightly.
"....Forgive my rudeness. No one declared intent to pass Ley Line today. If it wouldn't offend, might this humble knight have the honor of your name?"
"Daughter of the Aedran family, Lucilla Aedran. Surely a Vizillen knight wouldn't claim ignorance of the Aedran name?"
Covering her mouth lightly with fingertips like any noble daughter, Lucilla smiled. The knight knelt on one knee, kissing her hand in reply.
"As if, Lady Lucilla. Forgive my failure to recognize you. My dull eyes, chasing sword tips, overlook the person within. And those behind you...."
"Family caravan members."
"Gold guides, then. Understood. We'll escort you from here."
Poke! Poke poke!
As the knight bowed politely, prods came from behind. Aldrich pointing at Lucilla with a 'Who's that?' face. The Professor shrugged, and she turned to jabbing Ottoman and Borca beside him.
['Poking there reveals nothing.']
Poke, poke poke!
Whispers!
"Hey, kid!"
"....."
Squeeeze!
"Hey, you brat, Lucil!"
This spot might yield something.
Declining the knight's horse-back offer, Lucilla returned to the cart. At his persistent calls, she turned with a mask-like smile.
"Hero. I know you enjoy chatting with me, but.... I'm tired now, so could you hold off?"
"Oho. Not bad."
She smiled softly, but with a firm 'don't mess with me now' arch of one eyebrow.
'....Look at her?'
The fat caravan master impersonator from the foothills had ties to the Empire and hidden depths, alright.
Bigger scale than he'd thought.
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