Chapter 312
Chapter 312
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: Can One Who Has Seen the End of the World Plant an Apple Tree? (17)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
****
Burning torches and walls of sandstone enclosing everything on all sides. Below multicolored cloths fluttering chaotically like those draped over sacred trees. Kauladi's throne, set against a backdrop of sand pouring endlessly like a waterfall, even resembled an altar used for rituals.
Even if the damp sand near the oasis had greater cohesion compared to the vast sea of desert sands, it was still questionable whether such a structure could be built underground in the desert.
There wasn't even the common arch structure, let alone any pillars—a space so crude that calling it architecture felt like an insult.
In this place, infused with power that was clearly extraordinary at a glance, the Professor pulled his slackened senses taut.
A situation where he might have to launch a surprise attack at any moment.
With his head bowed to the lukewarm sandstone floor, the Professor surveyed his surroundings in that posture.
The central path leading to Kauladi. On either side, small channels where sand poured down from the sand waterfall.... Left of that were those who appeared to be shamans. Right were those who looked like warriors, lined up in formation.
No cover. Numerous enemies. An enemy stronghold with the unpredictable obstacle of 'unknown power.' Underground with no windows, only one entrance where they'd come in.
'....Not a great environment.'
Focusing his senses, between the shamans' breathing and the warriors' eerie pulses, a few more barely concealed presences revealed themselves.
Between walls. Or beneath his feet. Those guarding their king in the shadows. And....
'Found you.'
Behind Kauladi's throne. Beyond the pouring sand waterfall, four presences. Two were the controlled breathing of skilled warriors, and two were irregular and faint like civilians—the 'Hearts of the Desert' siblings Laksasha had mentioned, along with the warriors watching them.
The hostages' position was the worst. Kauladi's position, the second target, was also the worst. Nothing from enemies to environment wasn't the worst, but there was one reliable lifeline.
Namely, that they believed they had completely brainwashed him.
'Given this place where assassination threats are near zero, Kauladi himself is likely less vigilant. The shamans even have to bring me right before him to hand over control of the spell on me. So closing to attack range is possible.'
"Slaves, step forward three paces."
At the bald warrior's command, the Professor and the shaman Yagin who had brought him advanced three steps and bowed their heads again. From their toes up their spines to the tops of their heads, soft sand like fine silt was sprinkled over them.
The Professor quietly steadied his breathing.
"Slaves, step forward five paces."
The next command and prostration. Fragrant oil-mixed water poured over their bodies, flowing into the sand channels on either side of the path.
In the motion of rising from prone, the Professor noticed the long axe haft brushing dangerously close to his right arm.
"Slaves, prepare to greet the great sun of the desert!"
Now quite close. While the shaman panted in rapture, the Professor's breaths came short and irregular too.
Sniff. Sniff.
Snnniff. Exhale.
'As expected, no clue.'
The sense he'd kept on highest alert since entering this place: smell.
Faint but with the possibility of collusion with the mutts discovered, he planned to assume this was a Mutation Blood stronghold the instant he detected traces of mutts here and act accordingly.
....Unclear. Not just smell, but his entire body—senses that functioned like a mutt detector—were wandering lost.
There wasn't even a speck of that distinctive nose-stinging, disgustingly sweet scent. However. His instinct toward mutts, bordering on the realm beyond specific senses, kept echoing with some inexplicable resonance.
Whether due to the spells enveloping this area or something else, he didn't know.
That ambiguity made the Professor even more on edge. He couldn't tell if it was truly traces of spells colluding with mutts, or spells repelling a mutt incursion.
In that hesitation, they finally reached the stairs below the throne where Kauladi sat, prostrating themselves.
"Great ruler of the desert! Legitimate heir to the ancient desert, who shall become the new sun! We meet Kauladi!"
The shaman, seemingly genuinely moved, wept as he slammed his forehead into the floor.
The king, lounging sideways on his long throne, accepted the blood-drawing courtesy as a matter of course.
"Saladin. Saladin.... The one who tamed you gave you a fine name."
"Yes, my lord! A water mage from the inland, exceptional in water manipulation and taming elves, trolls, and such with magic. I highly valued him as an exception—an outsider who tamed a slave—and presented this one to Your Highness! Though the mage began it, I, Yagin, poured my heart into finishing it, so he won't trouble Your Highness by even a single grain of sand—ugh, urk, cough!"
The shaman answering diligently to the king's words suddenly hacked up sand from nose and mouth, writhing on the ground.
"Yagin. This is the third time today I've said your words are too long. You should consider my position, always hearing the same from those before me. Shouldn't you?"
"Mmph, ugh!"
"You're still talking. I said it grates on my ears."
"Gah, cough! Kuh...."
....Rustle. Swish. Rustle....
As the terror-stricken shaman clutched his throat, only the sound of sand spilling from his mouth amid suffocation's agony climbed the stairs toward the throne.
"Good. Well done."
"Kuhak! Hek! Hnngh! Heuk!"
"Engrave today's lesson deep in your heart."
"Huuu, th-thank you! Thank you!"
With a flick of Kauladi's hand, the shaman bowed repeatedly, retreating backward. Saliva-soaked sand clumps still dropped in his wake.
Once Yagin withdrew and slaves appearing from somewhere swiftly cleared his traces,
Kauladi, still lounging languidly on the throne, finally rose, his half-lidded eyes gleaming as if preparations were complete.
"Well then, so you're the new warrior who joined this time. They say you split a black scorpion in one strike?"
"Yes...."
"Hahaha! That's impressive strength. Black scorpions roam the desert gathering wreckage from ships they've sunk with their own hands to build nests. Well.... I have many questions, and I'd like to hear your tale from the inland. But first, there's someone you must meet."
Relying on senses constantly ringing alarms, the Professor examined each figure around him. Kauladi. Even just the intricate spell tattoos embroidered over his body and the rippling air above marked him as no ordinary man, but it wasn't him.
The shamans. Their upper echelon had just suffered for no reason, yet not one stirred. Not them either.
The warriors? Breathing in perfect unison like marching feet. Scars etched across their bodies and honed physiques screamed formidable foes at a glance, but not them either.
'....Was it just nerves?'
About to focus on Kauladi after scanning without spotting suspects. Then, lightly brushing like against fine hairs. But clear as light leaking through a needle's eye, something caught his gaze.
Behind Kauladi, one of the three shamans. Clad head to toe in white cloth like desert folk.
No power, scent, or sign emanated from him, yet the eyes meeting his felt familiar.
The gaze of that bizarre existence etched in his memory. Passionate yet averted. Affectionate, laced with hatred.
Now, the hatred proportion had increased.
Kauladi smirked at Saladin facing the shaman, then rose himself to bring the shaman forward.
"You were right again this time."
"...."
"It's getting hard to deny your claims of reading the future and the world. Isn't it? Eh? In the end, we gave each other what we needed. For me.... the power to rule the vast desert, and the means to reclaim past glory. For you...."
"That one, as promised."
"Yes. As you said, he came here."
His body reacted before thought, standing the Professor up. Those eyes. First encounter: confident. Second: terrified. Third: awed. Now....
Calm, sunken eyes, like one who had attained enlightenment.
"My friend, Palkatus."
'Damn....!'
Thud!
His body kicked off the ground sooner than expected, and the axe slicing through the suddenly surging mutt presence flew toward the doll called Palkatus the shaman.
"....Yes. Kauladi. The promise is kept. You truly led him here."
"Didn't I say? The desert lies beneath my feet."
Neither Palkatus nor Kauladi even thought to block.
Cleaving the turban, drawing a perfect vertical line without a hair's deviation, its shockwave splitting even the throne's stairs and sandstone floor—a killing blow.
Crush!
'....Sand?'
But inside the shaman's robes, neatly bisected, was only sand. The glaring eyes now dwelled in another shaman's robes, directed at Kauladi.
Palkatus's presence remained hazy. Parasitic or not, with blood in its veins, it shouldn't evade his senses, yet though Palkatus's consciousness was clearly here, it wasn't using a mutt body.
He couldn't grasp the principle, but the result was clear.
'Failure.'
The moment he thought to recover from the impact and follow up, he saw Kauladi's bare foot stomp the floor. Sound of densely packed sand scattering. An instant sinkhole. And within it, sounds most like desert creatures: mutts.
Ruuuumble—!
.
.
.
.
Craaaack!!!
Crack—!
The second axe strike, swiftly recovered, was caught by someone's hand before reaching its target.
A burrowing worm erupting from the floor. Without waiting for its face maw to open, two humanoid mutts burst out explosively.
One: a muscular humanoid mutt with six arms, each wielding different weapons, walking upright.
The other: lizard-man form with sharp scales distinctive, other traits varying by world as with mutts.
Crunch, groooowl—
"Named Termakian, Nigmi!!"
"Oh my. You know us? Nice to meet you, sorry about this rough greeting...."
"The third one's true form, figured out by some means we don't know. Our cute little third one who sang of dying without 'Daddy'.... Right!"
Grip—!
Boom!
The two Named's joint assault sent the Professor and his axe flying. His wide eyes darted left and right in an instant.
'Sinkhole. Made by Kauladi, who seems to manipulate sand.'
'Burrower worm corpse. Waited outside my detection range, then appeared in a flash. Fast in sand terrain to begin with, but with a tunnel dug, even faster approach.'
'Two Named of unclear makeup. Were waiting.'
'Above all, Kauladi called Palkatus [friend].'
.
.
.
.
Thud—!
His thoughts ended as he slammed into the wall, but this was enough to grasp the situation.
Mutts and Kauladi's forces had joined hands. Exchanged something, and what the mutts were to receive.... was him.
Drip drip—
Rising amid shattered sandstone and sand, the Professor gauged the distance to the royal blood.
Frontline: two Named. Termakian specialized in close combat, Nigmi unexperienced but known for special combat prowess per reports. These two alone were overwhelming.
Palkatus observing, friendly to him, plus Kauladi controlling the battlefield itself.
On his side,
His weapons: innate abilities. One axe. And....
Splash.
[Ottoman. Confirmed?]
[Hm? You used magic, so.... things have gone south already. Yes, confirmed. Plenty of moisture in the oasis let me extend tendrils here and there. Approaching this place faster than expected.]
[Understood. Tell Laksasha and Moonshadow to hurry escape prep. The Dry Oasis should be ready in advance.]
[Got it. Come out and see.]
Splash.
....Familiar reinforcements, and unfamiliar ones.
As the Professor ignited white aura facing the two Named approaching leisurely, Palkatus, who had watched him coldly, turned away.
"Confirmed arrival. That's enough for me. I'll head to the promised land first."
"Leaving already? You're undervaluing the gift from the desert's ruler. I planned to subdue that 'Professor,' package him nicely, and send him to you. Since I received something, shouldn't I reciprocate?"
"....Capture, him?"
Rumble—
Crack!
The shaman hosting Palkatus scoffed at Kauladi's words, placing a foot on the just-arrived burrower worm's maw.
"If you can, try. I'll wait gladly."
Palkatus took one last look at the Professor battling amid charging slave warriors and shamans, then vanished from Kauladi's lair with the burrower worm.
"....Not long now."
Palkatus suppressed the storm of emotions in his chest, relentlessly reviewing and refining his plan nonstop.
Mutation Blood. Mother. Siblings. This world, and what he discovered.
And, Father. You.
A matter of the species' survival. The key had arrived.
Against such an opponent, not a single flaw could be shown.
****