Chapter 347
Chapter 347
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: Saint and Completer (3)
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Vroooom—
“All crew members to your stations!”
“Mages, priests, shamans, and anyone else nearby who might affect the mana—please move to your designated seats! Aero-mana stone exposure is about to increase!”
“Oh dear.”
“Ottman, sir, were you here?”
“Ah, it’s you. Yes. Everything sorted out?”
“Yeah, more or less. In a war like this, I’m hardly the only one who’s lost people.”
“One might say that, but... it’s not a good habit to view yourself through others’ eyes. Especially for someone like you who’s overly objective.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. So, this way?”
“This way. They’re gathering us in the noble cabins, which are the farthest from the aero-mana stones.”
“...The mages are listening surprisingly well? Do they have some leverage on them or something?”
“Hmm... If I had to say, it’s this airship. They love it so much that when they heard it could crash if they go wild, they settled right down. They know full well that a wind mage passing through would shatter everything and turn it upside down. Thanks to that, they’re being careful on their own.”
“That’s fortunate.”
A short distance away, old Galrude was walking along muttering, “Oooom... Felix should have seen this...” with childlike excitement, so it must have really impressed him.
The mages moved smoothly under the crew’s guidance, entering their assigned cabins. By the time Yggdrasil and Notum—who had arrived at our cabin first—were glued to the window with thrilled expressions, peering outside.
“All personnel in position confirmed! Airship ‘Golden Field,’ ascending! Ascend! Ascend!”
““Ascend!!!””
At the command from someone—captain or pilot, who knows—and the crew’s shouts echoing through the airship, Notum and Yggdrasil, like kids on their first plane ride, slammed themselves to the floor with lightning speed, grabbing onto anything sturdy—like my leg.
Grrrrrind, grrrrrrind! Jolt, jolt!
“Groooo, uwaaa! Uwaaaaa!”
“Ehee, Notum. It’s okay, it’s okay.”
“Professor, as your observer, I can assure you this is your first time on an airship too. Therefore, your recent statement of ‘it’s okay’ lacks credibility.”
“H-how... Should I gather some water at least...?”
“I told you it won’t fall. Using magic now would clash with the aero-mana circuits and Ottman’s mana, increasing the crash risk.”
“Th-then, uuum... I-is this shaking normal? It feels like the ship’s about to break apart...”
“Probably? This is my first airship ride too.”
I said that, but I could guess this was normal just by looking around the cabin.
Tables and chairs bolted to the floor. Furniture fixed so solidly it looked a bit crude. They called it a noble cabin, but aside from a small painting flush against the wall, there were no teacups, vases, or anything movable. It was clearly designed with this level of vibration in mind.
‘148th one, right? After that many trial and error, they’d have ironed out these details.’
As expected of Teldrat’s golden family. They’d produced an excellent airship. The crew whispered that Aedran’s butler had wept upon seeing the family warehouse’s floor—exposed for the first time in 120 years—but it seemed they hadn’t wasted their money.
Vroooom—
As the vibrations intensified, the aero-mana stones’ distinctive purple glow enveloped the hull, and the mana from the top-grade magic cores embedded within raced across the airship’s surface like a blue net woven by magitech circuits.
An incredible sight: purple dawn light wrapping the golden hull, blue mana paths spiderwebbing across it.
Anyone seeing this would agree it was a perfect herald of a technological era’s shift.
Drdrdrdrdrdrdr—
“It’s falling! It’s falling!”
“Grooooaaaa! The ship itches! Guts shifting downward!”
“It’s not falling—it’s ascending.”
The desert outside the window began to recede.
Vroooom—
As the mana engine’s dull hum faded and vibrations eased, sporadic applause broke out here and there in the brief silence. Ottman, Notum—even Yggdrasil clapped with moved expressions at the successful takeoff.
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- Heung An Mandu: Fuck, God!
- Jokass: It’s... it’s flying. It really flew.
- Nutria Pass: Beyond function, it’s badass as hell. I loved riding planes as a kid too.
- Heung An Mandu: Dream... dream come true! If this airship just crosses to 4world, I can live as a generator bum playing GG forever! Professor’s taken responsibility for the rest of my life!!!!
- DOOMgay: Judging by the shaking, it’d be quite the ride.
- Soy Sauce Gaybar: Ian hyung! Come out quick! Vex hyung’s foaming at the mouth over Professor’s plane!
- DOOMgay: Toss it to Thousand Stream Emperor. He puts people to sleep without hurting them.
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Our chat was obvious, but the community was flooded with posts like [They finally did it.] and [The singularity has arrived.].
A technological generation shift. The dawn of magitech, showcased to the world on the stage of war.
Thud thud thud!
“Please remain in your designated positions, honored guests! The airship is still ascending!”
Hearing the crew’s voice outside, the professor shook off the two clinging otherworlders and sprawled on the bed.
A brief rest.
Once ascent ended and the craft stabilized, using minor mana or holy power would be fine. That’s when he’d contact the church via divine comms.
‘Current front lines. Our operation progress. Enemy scale and movements. New named bosses or observations on Edeorna. Resupply via Aedran family. Nobles to persuade over imperial reinforcements’ command—check for Light or Mercy followers. With aerial routes open separate from land... melt permafrost with oil mages... if we claim Prosperity’s icon, war drags into attrition...’
[Want me to organize?]
‘Nah. This needs to be scattered wide and tackled as it comes. Slack on one thing, and shit hits the fan.’
Just thinking it over made his head throb. Mountains of things to consider.
A commander’s mind in war runs at max even while eating or shitting, so rest deep when you can.
“Advance like the horn of Muso.”
“Gruk?”
“Just something I heard somewhere.”
The professor closed his eyes, gazing at the receding desert. When he opened them, he’d be busy nonstop for a while.
****
“No.”
“Pardon?”
“We who share the essence of earth and life. You, Saladin, are a warrior, so you may not understand—”
Slosh!
“I do water magic. Water bursts. I rode that thing fine, no issues? Our water mages all rode it, and wind mages want to live up there forever? Why not?”
“Khmm, infusing a warrior’s body with the essence of knowledge—truly the superhuman acknowledged by the Lord...”
“Yeah! Superhuman! Ubermensch! You wouldn’t get it, but I’m the savior superhuman certified by the Creator here? So quit being stubborn, hop on quick, and let’s go! Yeah?”
“Still no. Don’t winds blow in the sky? Your domain. But we’re fated to keep our feet on the ground our whole lives. The moment we board that irreverent ship—untouched by supports, bases, or even a hair’s breadth of earth—we lose our bond to the land and wither, crumbling to sand.”
“Argh, so frustrating! Nullak! Hey! Aren’t these your subordinates? Can’t you... do something?”
“Hmm, smack, well... Hey, Germanthal. Even for Nullak’s request? This Professor guy’s in a hurry.”
“...You once saved our entire tribe’s lives, so I’ll obey your command. But know this: it’s a command that kills all you saved.”
Crunch, crunch, smack! Squish!
“That’s the deal? Want me to order them aboard, corpses okay? Fair warning: dead people are just meat. Can’t even eat it.”
“Ugh, seriously!”
This was Nullak’s domain, his tribe’s territory.
The airship was faster than I expected, and I was more tired. I slept so deeply I wouldn’t have noticed being carried. Waking, I scrapped plans for immediate divine comms. That plump fleshball performer was waiting outside.
‘Ka-hahahaha! Sorry about this, Saladin! You get it as a leader—can’t shove your remaining forces into the jaws of death to save trapped allies!’
‘...And if I don’t?’
Crash clatter—
Prostrate!
‘I’ve sinned gravely. As a lowly desert-reading shaman, I watched via starlight what you did, fought, and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with. Be satisfied with Nullak’s head, who cherishes his underlings.’
What can I say... true bastards are true to form. Like last time, his hearty welcome soured my mood recalling our first thorny meeting with Laxasha. He immediately flattened his plump body before me, squishing like a rolled rice sack.
I get it. Back then, mutual destruction loomed. I felled Kaulradi, but at the cost of the largest taboo swarm targeting me. As leader, ditching me and my party to escape the swarm was right.
But... escaping with that fleet meant Nullak’s shamanism could move the entire allied fleet.
If he’d stuck with us, adding that power, might we have a different future? The thorny irritation rose.
“Lord! That’s absurd—”
“Stay right there, not one step!!! React even a speck to what happens between Professor and me, and I swear by Nullak, I’ll tear your clans to shreds and feed you to lizards! Eyes shut, ears plugged!! That’s an order!!!!”
“Lord...”
“You’re executed! Drag him!”
“No! L-let go! Our great desert lord Nullak—”
Such power, yet he stuck his neck out, begging pardon with his life. Commanding subordinates not to react. And those plump eyes buried in flesh gazing up with sparkling ‘Sp-spare me, your highness...’
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- Holy: Retarded but cool...
- Highway Nacho Man: Retarded but cool.
- Deer Drug Please: Generous in every way, character worth 10 portions.
- Jokass: Feels like he’s got his own questline? Solid character all around?
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...Yeah. That vibe. Annoying yet oddly likable bastard.
No malice. Not wrong. Preemptively took responsibility.
‘...Killing him changes nothing.’
Spring!
“Uhahaha! Exactly! Nullak spoke of grave sin, but it wasn’t really! Hey! Bring back that dragged guy, pour him a drink! Fetch their families too! Fastest lizard, depart! Hahahahahahaha—”
‘You really...’
“Great ones’ words carry weight! You don’t seem aware, but retracting once spoken isn’t easy! Not your style anyway! G-good, excellent choice! Dead, Nullak’s just a meat lump; alive, desert emperor? Uhahahaha, you’ve suffered much! Feast prepared—eat first! I’m hungry after sweating!”
“No, hey—”
“Hey! Prepare the grandest feast as always! You serve today the one who ended the desert taboo with his bare hands! Kahahahahaha uhahahaha!”
What’s killing him get me? Spared him, he hopped onto his palanquin like a flea and threw a party.
Then, lavish feasts, gold and jewels, delicate desert dancers melting crew and merchants. Our tense group finally relaxed.
‘Ka-hahahahahaha! So you made that sky ship?’
‘Hat hat hat hat hat! Odd power system—those engravings shamanism? Can I touch?’
‘Uhahahaha! Sure! [Drum of Famine] from my foes’ and my hides—my greatest power and pride!’
‘Hat hat hat hat! Impressive! Want to learn the structure!’
‘Live here, I’ll make you one and teach!’
‘Hat hat hat hat! Thief!’
‘Uhahahahahaha! Anyone but Professor, I’d have beheaded you!!’
Roman sneaked out, hit it off with Nullak. Slipped in, demanded oil mages beyond contract—full airship for life-debts. Nullak boasted yes, then froze smiling upon checking actual capacity.
Fun, pleasant, profitable time passed.
Next day, finally met the famed oil mages—desert earth mages using land essence—ready to leave... but they refused.
Specifically, they’d die before boarding.
“Let’s go!”
“We’ll walk!”
“No time!”
“We’ll run!”
“Why hate heights! You climb mountains!”
“So we crawl up high ground on all fours!”
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- Jokass: Give up. Earth mages all have severe acrophobia. They won’t climb mountains unless critical.
- Nutria Pass: Checked—they won’t even go to second floors. See their magic tower?
- Jokass: Oh, that disc?
- Nutria Pass: Yeah.
- professor: Disc? Show me.
- Nutria Pass: [Attached: ‘What worms call a tower.’] You’ll get it instantly.
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Asked community for persuasion tips—got only certainty it’s impossible.
Nutria’s photo: “Magic tower”—screenshots from various spots, all common:
‘...That’s a magic tower?’
Remote cliffside stone building. Nicknamed disc: vast flat single-story round structure. Stuck flat to ground, hating to lift feet—they call it ‘tower.’
Closer look: shuffling feet never leaving ground. Bald black head’s every move screamed one with earth.
‘...Dizzying, really.’
Oil mages’ importance in coming war: incalculable.
‘Inextinguishable flame’ area denial? Flame mages can do that.
True value: slashing overwhelming ‘non-combat losses’ en route to northern permafrost.
‘Basically mobile nukes and refineries. Extract, refine, output oil humans. That’s oil mages’ worth.’
North is cold. Spit freezes and rolls; piss wrong, frozen urine climbs back—nightmarish. Not vainly called eternal tundra.
Worse: human alliance main force knights/infantry in metal armor/weapons.
To north like that?
Brittle cold metal shatters secondary; frozen chainmail becomes flesh-slicing saws greeting bare skin.
Metal-heavy gear: north conquest’s max hurdle. Reason melt all reserve armor for wool/silk/tough fabrics north gear. Overhauls strained logistics, tightening noose.
Oil mages ease this massively. Magical oil, will-controlled.
Warm paths/camps with eternal flames, even douse people—burns oil, not flesh.
‘Literal flaming knight charges. Use existing gear sans new issue. Stabilizes supply, insanely effective for attrition/long war north conquest.’
So, must bring them. To battlefield, commander tents full of stubborn knights. Need at least one to fly with me to Lordric, demo by oiling and igniting me for eye-proof.
“...Running, how long...?”
“Fear not. Our steps with earth lifelong differ from mortals’. Depart now...”
“Depart?”
“To your marked inland nation: 20 days.”
Want to kill them.
Airship 5 days to 20-day brag, smash that smug face.
Fine, 20 days workable. Busy sans them; leisurely prep others, persuade doubting commanders via saint’s holy mighty preaching. Waitable.
But. Bet those bald mages never reach Lordric in 20 days alone.
Why? Desert natives, never left. Calculated straight-line to goal like desert—few obstacles, skirt hostile tribes.
Inland different. Nations, tight borders, myriad fiefs yelling variously—us inland folk.
Which lord ignores black bald mages shortcutting fiefs via earth-step? Probing for loot/danger. Rock-straight balds declare path—nobles be damned. Fight annoyed nobles. Magic. Diplomacy mess. Capture, kidnap, grudge, darken, delay, delay, delay...
20 days? Send alone, 10 years they won’t arrive while I’m done.
‘Never send alone. How? Delay urgent schedule not, kidnap bald oilers to Lordric...’
“Horse?”
“We faster than horses.”
“Carriage?”
“No wheels—anything not earth-bound impossible.”
“So, as long as earth-bound?”
“Hmm.”
Good idea struck as considering rough knockout kidnapping.
Feet skim earth motion.
Proud faster-than-horse speed.
Mages merge with element; water mages don’t drown easy.
‘Earth mages similar?’
“Oh...”
Plausible. Very.
“You... Germanthal?”
“Yes. I represent our earth tribe.”
“Good. Thought of way satisfying us both? Trip bit... rough, okay?”
“As long as rites kept, yes. Repaying Nullak’s life-debt for tribe heading to war—can’t complain hardship.”
“Gooood~?”
Professor grinned at oil mages’ chief Germanthal’s straightforward reply.
In his mind: sturdy ropes holy knights carry to bind heretics anywhere.
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