Spring (2)

Wizard King Kadir.

The chronicles of his life read like something lifted straight from a fairy tale. Stories abounded of him slaying dragons single-handedly, toppling world-renowned archmages without breaking a sweat, and performing countless other legendary feats. Yet, among all his tales, the most fairy-tale-like chapter of all was his friendship with the Hero.

The valiant Hero as the protagonist, and the brilliant wizard as his steadfast companion. It was the quintessential storybook pairing. Even their greatest achievement mirrored folklore: together, they had struck down the Undying King.

Back when the demon race was gradually shedding its sinister moniker of the Demon Lord's army, the Undying King had arisen in bloody retaliation against the atrocities committed by the Holy Kingdom. Regardless of what had driven him down that dark path, Kadir and the Previous Generation Hero joined forces to subjugate him. Though that battle ended in tragedy with the Hero losing his life, history recorded it as a noble, selfless sacrifice.

As the Hero's dearest friend, Kadir had chosen to bury the bitter, agonizing truth deep within his heart, honoring his fallen comrade in silence. But now, confronted with the vile, festering rot the Holy Kingdom had hidden away for so long, even that solemn silence felt utterly futile.

Since ancient times, the bastards who claim to have no greed for gold are always the greediest bastards alive.

The same held true for justice. Anyone who went around loudly proclaiming their own righteousness was completely out of their mind. Present-day El Dorado fit that description to a tee. The very hypocrites who ought to distance themselves from worldly avarice were wallowing in it up to their necks.

On the surface, they wore masks of profound piety and unblemished sanctity, but Kadir had seen through them ages ago. The Holy Kingdom's saintly veneer had rotted away long before now.

I can hardly wait to hear what brand of nonsense they'll spew this time.

Armed with thorough preparations, Kadir departed for El Dorado. He had not bothered seeking permission from the Iris Kingdom, the realm where his Magic Tower resided. When one is the living embodiment of the Magic Tower and a national-grade archmage in his own right, who would dare stand in his way? He was not hailed as the Wizard King for nothing; even the King of Iris had to walk on eggshells around him.

Thus, Kadir arrived alone in the Holy Kingdom of El Dorado.

Though flustered by his abrupt arrival, the Holy See hurried to receive the distinguished guest. He had dropped subtle hints in advance, and his historical ties through the Undying King incident carried immense weight. Before long, Kadir strolled unimpeded into the grand halls of the Papal Palace.

"...What did you just say?"

"We merely follow the divine will of the Almighty. What personal will could humble servants possibly possess?"

Sitting across from the Pope and his assembly of cardinals, Kadir could only stare in sheer, dumbfounded disbelief.

As the late Hero's confidant, Kadir was intimately familiar with just how depraved El Dorado's upper echelon truly was. However, the ruling class of that era was not the ruling class of today. Mortals were cursed with brief lifespans, meaning power changed hands quickly. He had naively entertained the hope that things might have improved slightly over the decades, but a mere five minutes of conversation revealed they were even more putrid than their predecessors.

These sons of bitches are completely beyond saving.

Kadir maintained an impassive expression as he appraised the sovereign pontiff, Pope Louis II. In outward appearance, he seemed nothing more than a gentle, grandfatherly patriarch, but beneath that wrinkled facade slithered a venomous viper—a snake perpetually coiled to swallow people whole.

Every single rancid trait of El Dorado is concentrated inside this one man.

Kadir clicked his tongue inwardly. Though magic kept Kadir looking considerably younger, the two men were roughly of the same vintage. He shifted his gaze to sweep across the surrounding cardinals. True puppets of the pontiff, not a single one dared to utter a word.

"Servants of God, you say... What convenient ambiguity. Does that mean the merciless slaughter of the Undying King's innocent subjects was also divine will?"

"Do you imagine we enjoyed it? We merely executed our orders."

"Orders from the previous Pope, or orders from God?"

"The word of the Pope is the proclamation of the Almighty."

That infuriating invocation of God was an all-purpose shield. As long as one hid behind divine will, it served simultaneously as an unassailable shield and an absolute weapon. In the distant, mythical past, Aris would have struck them down with righteous lightning for utter blasphemy. But as the ages rolled on and mortal civilization advanced, the gods had ceased intervening in worldly affairs.

Perhaps they abandoned this world out of sheer disgust.

It was more than likely. Even Kadir, a steadfast agnostic, felt a wave of profound revulsion washing over him. No, it had long surpassed mere disappointment—it was blistering hatred. Knowing firsthand just how pure and noble the previous Hero had been only made this sickening spectacle all the more intolerable.

"God gave such a decree, did He... Is that truly what you claim?"

"Are you suggesting the Almighty is incapable of righteous judgment?"

"No. I am asking whether a genuine oracle or prophecy ever descended. Because the Hero told me it was his homeland that shoved him onto the pyre, not God."

"......"

You bastards were the ones who pushed him. Who do you think you're lying to? I was the Hero's closest friend. And unlike back then, I now hold concrete proof.

As Kadir laid bare the subtext of his inquiry, the genial smile on Louis II's face froze solid. The surrounding cardinals stiffened just as visibly, unable to conceal their sudden discomfort.

Kadir idly stroked his thick beard, his tone dropping into a measured cadence.

"There is an old saying in the Central Plains: 'Do not try to blot out the sky with the palm of your ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hand.' Do you truly believe the world will remain blind to the truth forever? If you possess even a shred of decency, it would serve you well to repent now."

"With all due respect—"

"Ah, of course. Back then, you lot were likely the ones taking orders rather than giving them. If you had at least emphasized that distinction and offered a sincere apology on behalf of your predecessors, there might have been a sliver of grace left. Truly pathetic."

"......"

If they had simply admitted they were bound by the chain of command back then, it would have been understandable. But refusing to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠offer even a token apology proved they were irredeemable garbage. Either that, or their skulls were filled with nothing but hollow vanity.

"Watch your tongue! You go too—"

Just as one of the cardinals flared in outrage, Louis II held up a placating hand to silence him. Choking back his fury, the cardinal sank back into his seat.

Louis II readjusted his benign, benevolent smile and spoke in a honeyed tone.

"I understand the sentiment behind your words, Lord Kadir. However, I must ask you to remember that we merely walk the path ordained by God."

"I wonder if God would ever acknowledge such a path."

Kadir scoffed openly. His mocking words carried a blunt, venomous edge: nobody believes your lies anymore. Only a legendary figure like Kadir—the partner of the former Hero, wielding peerless magical power and continental renown—could laugh directly in the sovereign pontiff's face like this. Any ordinary mortal would have had their head mounted on a pike within the hour.

Yet even Kadir had failed to realize just how deep their depravity ran. Beneath the rock bottom, there was always another basement.

"O Wizard King. Do you know why we, and indeed all of mankind, place our faith in God?"

"Enlighten me."

"Because humanity is inherently foolish and dim-witted. Mortals perpetually stumble into the wrong choices, which is why God must guide them. Naturally, even the Almighty's choices may not always seem palatable, but they are infinitely superior to anything mortals could choose on their own."

Stripped of its religious veneer, the Pope's proclamation amounted to a single, arrogant sentence:

He was referring specifically to the flock of El Dorado, but the meaning extended across all of humanity just the same. After all, if all mortals were equal before the divine, what difference did it make?

Kadir let out a dry, hollow chuckle. He was genuinely at a loss as to whether the man before him was brazenly shameless or utterly deranged.

"I see your thoughts quite clearly now. My eyes have truly been opened, thanks to your wisdom."

"I am delighted to have been of service."

"Though I doubt that thick iron plating over your face will protect you for very long."

Snap!

Kadir snapped his fingers with a sharp crack. Pope Louis II immediately recognized the gesture for what it was: an activation of magic. Panic flashed across the pontiff's face.

"What in heaven's name are you—"

"Oh, nothing grand. Just as my eyes were opened, I merely decided to open the eyes of your people as well."

"Do you think you can walk away from this unscathed?!"

"How could you possibly know what I did to make such an empty threat?"

Combating shamelessness with shamelessness. That was Kadir's chosen method of retaliation. Regardless of how red the Pope turned with mounting rage, the old archmage leisurely pushed himself up from his chair. Just as a flustered cardinal moved to summon the holy knights, the heavy double doors burst open.

"Your Holiness! Disaster!"

"What is the meaning of this?!"

"T-The footage of this very assembly is being broadcast across every square in El Dorado right now!"

"What did you say?!"

Louis II could not fathom the courier's panicked words. It wasn't standard relay magic, yet confidential minutes from the council chamber were leaking live across the entire capital? As utter confusion gripped the room, the Pope snapped his glare toward the archmage.

"Oh, it's quite simple," Kadir smiled faintly. "I merely mimicked that 'Gallery' you lot branded as the instrument of evil."

"You mimicked it?!"

"Recording and replaying everything the eye witnesses without relying on bulky artifacts... It truly is an enchanting piece of magic, is it not?"

Kadir chuckled with the distinct, eccentric mirth of a mad scholar. As Louis II's face twisted into an expression resembling a bloodthirsty ghoul, Kadir casually waved farewell.

"You'll have your hands full for quite a while. You brought this entirely upon yourselves, so don't bother resenting me."

"Do you truly believe the Almighty will remain blind to this heresy?! ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Are you telling me you revere that wretched Gallery as well?!"

Revere it? I've been bartering for ancient grimoires and translating lost histories through it, you fool.

Kadir swallowed the retort down into his throat. The timing was not yet right. That grand revelation had to wait for the proper moment, when the tides shifted further in their favor.

"The Gallery? I have no idea what you're babbling about. Sounds to me like someone has a guilty conscience."

"You insolent old—!"

"Well, sort it out amongst yourselves. I shall take my leave."

Light a blazing fire and stroll away. Kadir had just dumped an entire cartload of dry firewood directly onto the smoldering embers. With El Dorado descending past mere unrest and tumbling toward full-blown civil war, the entire continent would soon be plunged into turmoil.

As he leisurely warped back toward his domain, Kadir pondered the situation.

Times like this call for a Hero... Or perhaps it's better that she isn't here right now.

The current Hero was on the run, branded a traitor under fabricated charges. No matter how fierce the protestors grew, without a central figurehead to rally behind, they would eventually fracture and scatter. Would the Hero return, or would the Holy See strike first?

This is going to be a long, grueling struggle.

While El Dorado descended into pandemonium, Kadir returned to his Magic Tower in the blink of an eye. Teleportation across vast borders was child's play when backed by his immense mana pool. The moment he stepped back into his beloved laboratory, he made a beeline for the enchanted refrigerator.

"Now, where did I put those blue mushrooms I received earlier... Ah, here they are."

"Later."

Kadir casually waved off the severed skull's desperate plea and shut the refrigerator door with a satisfying thud.

The Gallery was currently burning brighter than a supernova over the whole "humanity is dogs and pigs" controversy.

To me, tucked away in my primordial woods, it felt like watching a brushfire on the far bank of a massive river. It wasn't really my problem. Just another day of weird shit popping off in the wider world, I suppose. Nothing I could say would change anything, and the broader politics of the realm weren't going to help me survive here anyway. Still, it was surreal watching the small snowball I had kicked down the hill turn into a world-ending avalanche.

The weather's really warming up.

Winter was finally breathing its last. The shift in temperature was palpable enough that my thick winter pelt coat was starting to feel stuffy. I'd probably only need to wear it for another day or two at most.

With the change of season, it was time to overhaul the campsite. First on the checklist was the ground, which had repeatedly frozen rock-solid before thawing out again. The sudden deluge followed by the flash freeze, and now the gentle spring thaw, had turned the dirt into a sticky, miserable quagmire. It made routine chores an absolute slog. Thankfully, it wasn't deep enough to trap your boots like a tidal mudflat, but it was annoying nonetheless.

I'll need to haul some gravel up from the river later.

In any construction project, the foundation is everything. Compacting and grading the ground took up more than half the total labor. Since I planned to build a proper smelting furnace and a clay baking oven in the near future, tamping down a rock-solid foundation was non-negotiable. Hauling river gravel, spreading it across the muck, and packing it down with a heavy tamper ought to do the trick.

"Wonmo, come here buddy."

"Kkyu?"

"Hehehe."

As dusk fell and the forest dimmed into twilight, I scooped up Wonmo and rolled around the cave floor with him. Now that winter was behind us and Wonmo was wide awake from his torpor, we could finally get back to serious wilderness operations. Once the immediate chores were handled, we could push outward and explore new sectors of the forest.

Assuming that wretched yellow dust doesn't ruin everything.

If not yellow dust, a full-blown sandstorm might sweep in from the arid wastelands across the river. Then again, this wasn't Korea; perhaps the local spring wouldn't have any dust storms at all. Regardless, I had laid down all the basic preparations for the coming season.

Better secure the flap just in case.

Once I battened down the heavy tarp across the cave entrance, bedtime preparations were complete. I tossed a few extra logs onto the fireplace to maintain a steady ambient warmth.

"Achoo!"

Right in the middle of tidying up, a violent sneeze tore through my nose. An unbearable itch tickled deep inside my nostrils. It wasn't a cold; my sinuses had just flared up out of nowhere.

What's this? Bad omen?

Wondering if I should wear a cloth mask to sleep, I pulled one up just in case. It was slightly stuffy, but not enough to ruin a good night's rest. I asked Fast Tree Sloth, who was already lost in a trance staring at the dancing hearth fire, to keep watch over the cave, and then crawled into my furs.

Oh, and I made sure to circulate my Internal Cultivation Art before dozing off. Steady, daily practice was the only way to squeeze out even an ounce of improvement in martial arts.

With high hopes for the gentle spring ahead, I drifted off to sleep inside the warm cave.

The following morning.

Whoooooosh!

The moment dawn broke, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I untied the cave flap and pushed it aside—only to be greeted by an entirely yellow world.

Damn, the yellow dust really came.

That fleeting thought barely had time to cross my mind before—

"Achoo! Achoo! P-kachoo!"

A machine-gun barrage of sneezes exploded from my face. My nasal passages burned with an agonizing, prickling itch. I had assumed it was fine dust from the desert, but dust usually triggered coughing, not frantic, convulsive sneezing. Even through the cloth mask, some ultra-fine yellow powder seemed to be penetrating right into my airways. Bleary-eyed, I forced my stinging eyelids open to look closely at the swirling haze.

Wait a second. Don't tell me this isn't sand...

The eternal tormentor that made every single spring on Earth a living hell.

"PU-KACHOOO!"

Pollen. A catastrophic, apocalyptic cloud of botanical pollen was swirling like a yellow desert gale, drowning the entire forest in gold.