What the Tiger Left Behind (5)

Magic was a force of boundless potential.

It could conjure fire from the empty void and coax water to flow from barren rock. Far beyond such foundational miracles, it had shaped the rise and fall of mortal civilization itself, weaving its way through every cornerstone of history.

Scholars across generations unanimously sang its praises. Yet for all its glory, magic remained ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠unfathomably difficult. Merely calling it complex was an understatement; it was a craft reserved strictly for geniuses. Even genius was nothing more than an entry ticket. No matter where one went in this world, there was always a higher heaven beyond the sky.

At the apex stood an institution open only to geniuses among geniuses: the Magic Tower. Revered as both the cradle and paradise of sorcery, it existed to honor Aragon, the God of Magic. And the master who reigned over this sanctuary was universally acknowledged as the greatest wizard in history.

So immense was his renown that the world spoke of him with reverence as the Wizard King. Considering the weight carried by the word 'king' in this world, the Magic Tower was, in effect, a sovereign nation in its own right. Even the Iris Kingdom, within whose borders the tower stood, was forced to walk on eggshells around him. And it was solely because of the Magic Tower's presence that the mighty Messiah Empire dared not act with insolence.

At that very moment, the supreme master of the Magic Tower, the revered Wizard King...

"Hmm-hmm~ Hmm~"

...was humming leisurely to himself, sipping a cup of warm coffee.

Age had turned his hair stark white, and his matching beard was as lush and magnificent as any dwarf's. Yet remarkably, his face possessed barely any wrinkles at all, giving him the vigorous countenance of a middle-aged scholar rather than a frail elder.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Directly in front of him, a massive heart—far larger than a human head—beat with ferocious intensity. It was a grotesque, macabre sight, yet the wizard didn't mind in the slightest.

"Hehehe. What a lovely little thing you are. Look at you pumping away."

Quite the contrary: his gaze bordered on that of an utter degenerate admiring a priceless treasure. Perhaps sensing the deeply unsettling aura rolling off him, the heart hitched in its rhythm for a split second before returning to its steady, mechanical thumping, as if shaking off an illusion.

'To possess the exact anatomical structure of a Dragon Heart... How is such a thing even possible?'

A Dragon Heart was, as the name implied, the vital core of a dragon—the absolute sovereign of all living creatures. It held a reservoir of mana bordering on infinity; anyone fortunate enough to consume and assimilate one would never face mana depletion for the rest of their days. However, the heart carried a will of its own, making it excruciatingly hazardous to process. Even the slightest misstep would trigger a cataclysmic detonation capable of wiping an entire territory off the map.

Until recently, even this knowledge had been veiled in myth and mystery. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠It had remained unknown until the Wizard King personally subjugated a dragon. Single-handedly, no less.

'How on earth could a tiger nurture a Dragon Heart within its chest?'

Kadir stared unblinkingly at the pulsing organ. Even mobilizing every scrap of arcane theory he had amassed over decades of scholarly pursuit offered no answer. A Dragon Heart belonged solely to dragons. That was a fundamental law of nature. Yet today, that foundational common sense had shattered right before his eyes.

Granted, the ambient mana pool slumbering within this organ was laughably meager compared to the genuine article, but in design and mechanism, a Dragon Heart was undeniably a Dragon Heart. Kadir studied it with piercing intensity, then slowly reached out toward the pulsing tissue.

Ba-thump! Ba-thump! Ba-thump!

"Oops."

The instant his fingertips drew near, the heart thrashed wildly as though primed to detonate. Without missing a beat, Kadir snapped his fingers.

Hummm—

A translucent, geometric barrier manifested, perfectly boxing the heart within a flawless cube. Moments later, the organ erupted in a blinding flash of cerulean radiance.

BOOM!

The blast violently shook the confines of the barrier. Yet the cubic ward held firm, without so much as a hairline fracture marring its surface. Kadir casually flicked his wrist, dispelling the containment field that had neutralized the blast.

"Exquisitely sensitive to external mana. Another distinct signature of a Dragon Heart. In that case..."

Kadir threw himself into a battery of experiments. He channeled external mana without physical contact to induce controlled instability, tested precise counter-frequencies to pacify the organ right on the brink of detonation, and experimented with halting its rhythm entirely.

With every passing trial, the manic spark of intellectual hunger in his eyes burned hotter.

"Just what kind of place is the Forest of the Four Seasons?" Kadir stroked his snowy beard, muttering beneath his breath.

Even the legendary Wizard King harbored a profound dread of that primeval wilderness. No matter how powerful mortals became, they remained utterly helpless before the raw majesty of untamed nature. Kadir was no exception. He had set foot within its borders once in his youth, and had never dared venture near it again.

'And to think Grylls can freely access the Gallery from deep within such a land. His very existence defies all reason.'

It had begun out of simple curiosity. Seeking a diversion from the solitude of his research, Kadir had wandered onto the Gallery. Yet the more time he spent navigating its boards, the clearer one universal truth became: the world was vast, and the creatures dwelling upon it were often far lower than beasts.

To him, the forum had served as a fascinating petrie dish for social experimentation. But everything changed when he opened trade lines with Grylls, gaining unprecedented access to an endless array of miraculous flora and fauna. To a scholar who hungered to catalog every secret in the cosmos, Grylls had become nothing short of an indispensable lifeline.

'Dragons typically make their lairs in deep mountain ranges saturated with dense mana veins. The Forest of the Four Seasons surpasses even those ancient peaks. For a common tiger to develop a Dragon Heart, the creature's very taxonomy must have undergone complete metamorphosis.'

Hypotheses branched endlessly in his mind, each more radical than the last.

'Did it evolve into a spiritual beast, or did it adapt across countless generations? If so, did true dragons also diverge from lesser organisms to house immense mana pools? Or did an entirely different species warp its anatomy through sheer environmental pressure? Was the Dragon Heart never the exclusive birthright of dragons to begin with?'

A tangle of baffling mysteries unraveled before him. The theories were dizzying enough to make even an archmage reel. It felt as though every scrap of orthodox logic had been pulverized into dust and scattered across the heavens. The enigma of the Forest of the Four Seasons pulled at his curiosity with terrifying force.

'My sample size is far too limited. It is entirely possible this beast was an isolated mutant. To uncover the truth, I must provide Grylls with absolute, unyielding support.'

The Golden Poison Frog had already set the precedent. In the outside world, a golden frog rarely grew larger than a clenched fist. Yet the specimen Grylls had initially captured rivaled the size of a medium dog, and even the subsequent catches he supplied were vastly larger than anything recorded in academic texts.

'Even a mundane river crab reached the dimensions of an entire building. Does that forest forcefully accelerate the cycle of evolutionary divergence?'

His academic fervor blazed like an unquenchable furnace.

'I cannot draw definitive conclusions yet. If this truly functions as a Dragon Heart, I must observe how it reacts to genuine dragon blood.'

Researchers lived for the anomalies that shattered established doctrine. Having stumbled upon an unprecedented research topic, it was only natural that a faint, satisfied smirk curved his lips. Kadir turned on his heel and strode across the lab toward a massive enchanted freezer that housed his rarest experimental materials.

Clack—

Without needing a physical key, he swung the thick door open, releasing a billow of bone-chilling frost.

"Dragon blood... Ah, here it is."

"..."

Within the icy depths, amidst assorted vials of preserved monster viscera and bloodlines, sat a human skull. But this was no ordinary relic of the dead. An eerie, emerald glow burned deep within its hollow eye sockets. As though possessing sight, the phantom flames fixed their gaze upon the Wizard King.

Skeletons possessed no vocal cords, yet extraordinary circumstances yielded extraordinary horrors. The skull let out a hollow, agonizing rasp.

"Later."

With a dry brush-off, Kadir slammed the freezer door shut.

Carrying the chilled vial of dragon blood back to his workstation, he completely ignored the muffled curses echoing from inside the icebox. He dipped his index finger into the container, swirling the contents lazily. The frost clinging to the viscous crimson fluid melted away under his natural warmth until it reverted to its pristine, shimmering state.

Slurp—

Kadir casually licked the residual blood from his fingertip, looking precisely like a man cleaning cookie crumbs from his hand.

"Now then, if I introduce this catalyst..."

Kadir leaned forward with bated breath. By all theoretical projections, the organ would greedily drink in the pure draconic essence and—

SPLAT!

...it didn't grow stronger. It simply burst.

It wasn't a contained arcane explosion. It ruptured. Catastrophically. Completely.

"..."

Kadir stood frozen, not even registering the wet chunks of shredded meat plastered across his face. The outcome had diverged so wildly from his calculations that his brilliant mind momentarily short-circuited.

Still, the experiment had not been an absolute loss. Maintaining his composure, he calmly peeled a wet scrap of tiger myocardium from his cheek.

'Even with identical organ mechanics, differing biological taxonomy induces fatal, violent rejection.'

Another priceless stack of academic insight successfully logged. Even if the price paid was utterly devastating.

Kadir, the glorious Wizard King, stared blankly at the ruined workbench. The magnificent heart, once larger than a human skull, was reduced to a spray of pulverized gore. Ragged scraps of tissue clinging to the walls were all that remained of the miracle specimen.

"Haha. By Aragon's blessed beard..."

A dry, hollow chuckle escaped his throat. Master of the arcane though he was, reversing the arrow of time remained impossible. A peerless research specimen gifted by Grylls had just vanished into thin air.

How was he supposed to explain this? Kadir's mind raced through damage-control scenarios.

'Option one: Fabricate a lie.'

What lie could possibly work? Claim it detonated the second it arrived? If that had happened, he should have posted an immediate alert on the Gallery. That would never hold up. Shelved.

'Option two: Confess the truth.'

Given Grylls's pragmatism, he might let it slide without holding a grudge. But his willingness to offer future rare specimens would plummet off a cliff. Shelved.

'Option three: Claim I am purchasing it and provide high-value compensation.'

In truth, this was the only viable path forward. Kadir furrowed his brow, weighing his options. What artifact could possibly match the value of a degraded Dragon Heart? The criteria were exceedingly strict: above all else, it had to directly enhance Grylls's odds of wilderness survival. Finding an item that fulfilled every condition proved daunting even for the master of the Magic Tower.

'...I should clean this up first.'

With a heavy sigh, Kadir set about scrubbing the gory mess from his sanctum, weighed down by genuine guilt toward Grylls. Even a living legend had a sliver of conscience, after all.

'If I handle this restitution flawlessly, won't he entrust me with an even grander specimen next time?'

The real issue was that his conscience was thoroughly warped.

After transferring the saber-toothed tiger's heart to Allfather, I set out into the woods to harvest a mature mandrake root. Though I was currently without a shield and wearing uncomfortable makeshift footwear, harvesting the root was a breeze. I encountered no dangerous predators along the path, and pulling the mature mandrake proved remarkably simple.

All that remained was finalizing my trade with Passing Dwarf. We had agreed to postpone the drinking snacks for our next exchange.

Right. Asking a dwarf to give up liquor was entirely my fault.

Regardless, the transaction went through smoothly, and I received the custom boots. In silhouette, they closely resembled standard military combat boots from back home. The main difference lay in the leather; he had boasted of using top-tier hides, and the lustrous finish proved he hadn't been exaggerating.

'These are surprisingly comfortable.'

They felt far lighter than expected while offering snug, sturdy support. I couldn't have been more pleased. When a dwarf artisan personally crafted footwear, the quality was beyond question.

'I should just barter off the other pairs based on pure performance stats.'

My heart was already completely sold on these boots. Having geared up with proper footwear for once, I logged onto the Gallery to leave a public note of gratitude for the dwarf.

"Huh?"

Seeing my handle plastered across the front page was nothing new by now. But seeing it right alongside that unmistakable, bubbly aegyo tone and a certain prominent fixed handle immediately caught my eye.

How could I properly repay Princess Chaeng-gu? The question lingered in my head as I initiated the private trade window. I had followed football casually back on Earth whenever friends dragged me along, but that was the extent of it; I had never been a devoted supporter of any club. Cheering for Chae-yu was simply my way of showing appreciation for Chaeng-gu's generosity, rather than any deep-seated passion for the squad.

She was genuinely, head-over-heels in love with athletics. Then again, in a fantasy world with so few modern pastimes, competitive sports had to be as intoxicating as a drug.

Keeping the exchange window ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠open, I pondered for a second before tossing out an offhand thought.

Just as Chaeng-gu pointed out, formal nations were few and far between in this realm, primarily because different races harbored fierce isolationist instincts. But if one looked at noble fiefdoms and territories instead, the landscape shifted dramatically. Independent nations might be scarce, but sovereign estates and fiefs existed in abundance, clustered beneath loose imperial frameworks.

In my country, they granted military exemptions, I almost typed, but caught myself. Explaining the unique conscription circumstances of the Republic of Korea would be needlessly complicated.

Though the Olympics and the World Cup were distinct competitions, blending the concepts didn't really matter here. I felt no need to delve into granular history, nor did I imagine such casual chatter would count as a genuine repayment. To me, it was simply sharing trivia about how things worked back on Earth. Besides, I didn't even know who Princess Chaeng-gu really was outside the screen.

Well, I had meant every word. Anything that didn't directly contribute to my food supply or defense was fair game for trade. I would only feel at peace once I paid her back in full for the enchanted jerseys. Since she consistently refused external currency and showered me with gifts, this was the best resolve I could offer.

"Wait. She sent... all of them?"

The package arriving through the interface completely defied my expectations. Princess Chaeng-gu hadn't just sent one jersey from the lineup; she had transferred the entire display. A colorful heap of sportswear instantly piled up before my eyes. But amidst my bewilderment, an even more baffling detail caught my attention.

'Who on earth could fit into something this tiny?'

Resting atop the pile was a jersey sized for a small toddler. Around here, the only companion small enough to fit that description was Wonmo, and...

"Ah."

The realization hit me instantly.