Chapter 245
Chapter 245
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 245
Chapter Title: Aftermath (1)
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"Grrruuuurururuk... Grrkutururuk. Gruk."
Bigmouth swallowed Mother Bathory piece by piece with its zipper-toothed maw.
First the left leg, then the right. After that came both arms.
It was just like a toad gulping down a massive meal.
"Here, the head."
"Gruk."
Oliver handed over Bathory's head, and Bigmouth popped it in like a piece of candy.
"Alright, just the torso left... Huh?"
As Oliver lifted Bathory's torso, something slipped out from the rags of her dress and fell to the ground.
A red notebook, enchanted with protective magic.
"Bigmouth. Mind swallowing this for me?"
Oliver kept his eyes fixed on the red notebook as he passed the torso to Bigmouth.
Bigmouth used its sprouted arms to stuff the limbless, headless body down its gullet like a goose being force-fed. Meanwhile, Oliver reached out toward the notebook.
Zzap!
His fingertips hadn't even made contact, but as he drew near, the blood-red magic embedded in the notebook reacted, repelling his hand.
"Hm..."
Oliver shook off the pain, then drew up the mana stored in his body to erode the notebook's defensive spell.
The highly sophisticated barrier sparked in resistance, stubbornly protecting the notebook. But Oliver persisted, and soon he grasped the structure and pattern of the incantation.
The spell unlocked like a key turning in a lock and vanished into thin air.
Oliver picked up the notebook and flipped it open.
Flip flip flip—
Inside were pages filled with red ink, mixing the kingdom's tongue with all sorts of foreign languages.
It didn't take Oliver long to realize what it was: a roster.
A list of names, each paired with two dates.
[Josephine Tetvet • 22/2/21 • 22/12/1] And so on.
He had no idea what kind of list it was, but the protective magic alone told him it was no ordinary item. Oliver kept scanning the client roster.
Then his eyes stopped on one entry.
"Oh... She's still alive?"
Oliver used the pool of blood to ascend from the deepest level of the chimera lab back to the surface.
He had calmly packed away the crimson meat hammer and Bigmouth in his magic bag, so he made the trip up alone.
"Well then, time to—"
"—get on with what exactly?"
Oliver turned around.
Behind him stood Welles, pale and haggard, using his longsword like a crutch.
Oliver regarded him calmly.
"You're up."
"Thanks to you."
Welles lifted his shirt to show the wound on his torso, hastily sealed with potion, along with the empty vial.
Luckily, Oliver had tossed those in with him when he flung Welles through the portal, allowing him to perform emergency treatment on his own.
"Did the potion work?"
"Yeah. Unlike when you splashed it on me, the pain was gone by then, so it actually healed when I applied it."
When Oliver had splashed it on him must have been right after they first encountered Bathory, and after the pain faded would have been post-Bathory's death.
"You were awake then?"
"Barely. So... how'd the boss fight go? Thanks. You saved my life."
Welles spoke frankly. And he was absolutely right.
Whatever the case, Oliver's intervention had miraculously spared his life.
Had Oliver arrived just a bit later, or skipped even one of the保温 magic, portal, or potion, Welles would have surely succumbed to exhaustion or gotten caught in the crossfire.
Welles knew this full well. That was why, despite having plenty to say, he started by thanking Oliver.
"Oh, I'm delighted. To think you'd thank me, Welles."
"I know I'm not the nicest guy, but I'm not ungrateful either... Mind if I sit?"
Welles asked, legs trembling. Oliver nodded.
Welles slumped down, drenched in cold sweat.
Oliver approached and offered him a potion.
"...What about you?"
Welles eyed Oliver, who was injured almost as badly as he was.
"I've got one for myself too."
As Oliver pulled out a fresh recovery potion, Welles downed his.
His injuries were severe—even two vials hadn't fully restored his stamina—but he could at least catch his breath now.
"Hoo..."
Welles sighed and surveyed the surroundings. It looked like the site of an artillery barrage, utterly devastated.
"...You take her down?"
A question stripped to the essentials. But Oliver, fresh from battling Bathory, got the gist.
"Got lucky."
"Impressive."
Welles said it plainly, but with utter sincerity.
He'd faced Bathory himself and knew her strength all too well.
Not dying was one thing, but her effortless command of every spell, plus her unique blood magic that neutralized even the flame magic he'd honed his whole life—it was terrifying.
He had no idea how Oliver did it, but results were results.
Welles acknowledged that the black mage before him was stronger. Far stronger.
A truly astonishing man.
In just a few short months, he'd grown into someone unrecognizable.
But even more astonishing was his demeanor. It hadn't changed a bit from their first meeting.
In this mad world that prized survival of the fittest, power changed people overnight—their attitudes, their personalities.
"Mind if I ask something?"
"Of course. Ask away."
"I know it's rich coming from the guy you saved, but... why'd you help me?"
Welles asked. Coldly speaking, from Dave's perspective, it would've been better if he'd died.
He was one of the very few who knew Dave was hiding his identity while working at the Magic Tower. Better if that knowledge was gone.
Sure, they'd had no choice but to team up given the timing and situation. But actively saving him after he passed out? That didn't make sense for Dave.
Letting him die quietly would've made protecting his secret a breeze.
"Why save me...? Well, we're working together, aren't we?"
Oliver tilted his head as he answered, as if responding to why one eats or sleeps—pure common sense.
"Oh, and I had something to ask you."
"Ask me?"
"Yeah... Is it okay?"
Seeing Welles' state, Oliver had tried to hold back his curiosity, but he couldn't resist.
"Hoo... Got any booze or smokes?"
"Both."
Oliver pulled a bottle of liquor, glasses, and packs of various cigarettes from his magic bag.
Welles stared in disbelief.
"Why carry that around?"
"I chatted with the other professors and staff. They said keeping booze and smokes on hand smooths out social life... Want a cigar?"
"...No, I'm good."
Welles eyed the utterly baffling creature before him.
A monster of strength acting like a total everyman. Though sometimes he acted with boldness beyond his power.
'Like when he said he'd hold off the field mages alone...'
Oliver kindly lit Welles' cigarette with mana and poured him a glass.
Welles puffed away happily and knocked back the drink.
"Ahh... Gonna live. So, what'd you wanna ask?"
Oliver plopped down naturally across from him.
A casual move, but it showed how invested he was.
"When you were fighting Lady Bathory, I was tangling with those female black mages."
"...All dead, I take it."
"Wasn't intentional. It just... happened."
"Fine. And?"
"I tried mimicking your flame magic back then."
Welles said nothing.
His flames, twisted to absorb mana, were hard to cast and three times harder to control.
Yet Oliver bore no burns.
Proof he'd replicated it on the fly without issue.
Unreasonable talent. But so overwhelming, it didn't even spark envy.
"Impressive."
"You're the impressive one, Welles. Trying it myself, I can see how much effort you put in—to create that incantation and wield it freely... Truly amazing."
Oliver meant every word, and Welles felt it.
Welles, who could rise to Magic Tower Master if he wanted, surprisingly felt a twinge of pride from this kid's praise.
"Thanks."
"I'm just saying what I think... But I don't get it. With that much dedication, why throw in with the Kel Independence Army?"
A question that might've irked him any other time, but Welles just smiled.
Sometimes, the person mattered more than the words.
"Can't wrap your head around it?"
"Honestly, no. Not trying to insult you, but I've seen a bit of how well the Magic Tower professors are treated... Why choose that over an easier path?"
Oliver thought of Randa chasing wealth and power, then Welles suffering in secrecy.
Welles chuckled and spoke.
"A black mage like you could live easy anywhere. So why hide who you are, schlepping booze and smokes for professors?"
"That's—"
"—'cause that's not what you value. Money, fame, pleasure."
Oliver had no retort.
"Same for me... Normally I'd rant about the kingdom's unjust occupation and rule, the oppression and exploitation of the Kel folk, and the righteousness of our Kel Independence Army. But nah... You're beyond my league to teach."
"Teaching the deficient has no level requirement, nor does learning."
"Still pass. No time anyway."
Welles pulled out his pocket watch. Time was short, as he said.
Dawn was breaking.
The trucks would return soon, and they might even send people from nearby labs.
Especially after such a noisy fight with Bathory.
"Here."
Welles offered Oliver a dagger.
The same one used to save the hostages on the train. Up close, its blade bore a distinctive checkered pattern.
"What's this?"
"Payment for the booze and smokes... Take it to the Kel community. You'll get help, or find me."
Oliver didn't care for blades, but he accepted it. Old, but quality—he could tell.
"Read history books. Or Northland local papers."
Welles said abruptly.
"Pardon?"
"Read history books or Northland locals if you wanna know why. Some things you gotta discover yourself to truly understand. If you're still curious after, I'll answer."
Not evasion. Oliver nodded.
"Got it."
"Hoo, talking makes the wounds ache again... So, what's next?"
"Was gonna treat you, but you seem fine. On to other business."
"Other business?"
"Yeah. Logging into the World Tree to check if it caught me fighting. Just in case."
"You can access the World Tree too?"
"Kinda happened."
"Nothing surprises me anymore."
Welles shook his head, stubbed out his cigarette, and looked around again.
Twice over, it still looked bombed out. The lab interior was a wreck.
"...Even if you tamper with the World Tree, this mess? They'll grill you."
"Hm... I'll think on that slowly."
"No time, though?"
Oliver shut his mouth. He'd checked the time earlier—Welles was right.
"Got any bright ideas?"
"A bit forced, but yeah."
"Oh? What?"
"First, fix the World Tree. Then tell me about Bathory."
"About what?"
"How that vampire took over this place. How the fight went. And how you won."