Chasing the Haze (1)
The royal castle of Arselion had always been towering and magnificent.
Its surrounding walls were built of dark blue-gray stone, where centuries of accumulated salt gleamed like veins, adding a touch of ancient mystery.
Within those walls, situated in one of the highest towers, was a reception room.
Through the distant window, the faint echo of screams and the acrid stench of smoke drifted inside.
"I must apologize for presenting such a shameful sight to our distinguished guests who have traveled so far."
Clink.
Setting down a heavy, finely crafted teacup, a woman dressed in a splendid ceremonial uniform spoke with quiet composure.
Her long silver hair, cascading down to her pauldrons, was neatly tied back, swaying gently in the steady sea breeze.
"We have detected rebel activity centered around the entertainment district near the docks. While the royal army is suppressing them without much difficulty, I, the Chancellor, will be hosting our esteemed guests on His Majesty's behalf for the time being. I ask for your generous understanding."
Just as the Chancellor said, things had been utterly chaotic since our arrival in the capital.
The sudden surge of soldiers, the harsh clashing of steel...
...and the screams that echoed from dusk till dawn through the stifling, smoke-heated air.
The city was in such a state of upheaval that it felt as though a full-scale war had broken out, leaving us thoroughly bewildered.
If Gyal hadn't immediately sought out the commanding officer to establish our identities, there was no telling how badly things might have escalated.
Rosia, who had ended up in the reception room alongside us by sheer happenstance, anxiously eyed both the Chancellor and Gyal.
The Chancellor continued, addressing the silent Gyal.
"We are doing everything in our power to locate the Prophet. However, because His Majesty specifically decreed that the Prophet be granted absolute freedom of movement, our search is taking slightly longer than anticipated. Rest assured, we will secure her safety no matter what, so please do not worry."
"...Absolute freedom, is it?"
Gyal spoke, his voice laced with exhaustion.
"I suggest focusing your search around the entertainment district."
"We have already issued orders to that effect. If you are concerned that she might be caught up in the suppression of the rebels due to a misunderstanding..."
"I have no such concerns. I merely suggested it because of her appearance."
"I see."
After that, Gyal and the Chancellor exchanged various pieces of intelligence regarding the emergence of the beasts.
They discussed how the creatures were appearing simultaneously across multiple regions...
...and how they were categorizing them by threat level and influence to dispatch the appropriate personnel.
Seeing no opening to join their conversation, I turned to Rosia, who was quietly nursing her empty teacup, and whispered.
"Do you know what the Prophet looks like?"
"...Huh? Me? Yes, I've seen her before."
After glancing over to ensure Gyal and the Chancellor were fully engrossed in their own discussion, Rosia leaned in close and whispered back.
"You can recognize her instantly, even from a distance. She has the most brilliant, striking red hair. I've only caught glimpses of her from afar a handful of times, but the image is still vivid in my mind."
Hair that blazed like wildfire.
Only then did I understand the subtext of Gyal and the Chancellor's exchange.
A person that conspicuous would stand out anywhere.
On top of that, she was an esteemed guest from the neighboring kingdom of Tyrancia.
Frankly, it was baffling that they hadn't been able to locate her yet.
"In that case, there is even less reason for us to let you take that boy."
The Chancellor's gaze shifted to me as she spoke.
"And what makes you say that?" Gyal asked.
"The circumstances have changed," the Chancellor replied. "The continent is currently facing its most turbulent era since the reign of our founding king. When every single talented individual is a vital asset to the kingdom, we cannot afford to make such decisions lightly."
I see.
Gyal murmured, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with her assertion.
"I am not in a position to dispute such a unilateral decision either, so I shall defer to the Prophet's judgment."
"Very well. In that case, may I have someone escort our guests to their quarters?"
Gyal nodded. At a subtle gesture from the Chancellor, the white double doors of the reception room swung open.
A man waiting outside bowed politely to us before turning to await the Chancellor's instructions.
"This is Gerard, the protocol officer who will be attending to you during your stay. Should you require anything or experience any discomfort, please do not hesitate to convey your requests through him."
"We appreciate your hospitality."
After bidding the Chancellor farewell, the protocol officer summoned a retinue of servants to guide us to our quarters in the inner palace.
I had never received such lavish treatment before, which left me feeling slightly out of place, but the moment I was left alone in my quarters, the lingering tension began to melt away.
It seemed finding the Prophet was going to take some time.
For the first time, I found myself with empty hours and no immediate purpose.
I tried to relax by lying down on a bed spacious enough to accommodate three or four people, but the plush, enveloping softness of the sheets felt strangely unsettling.
Idle rest, it seemed, simply did not suit my nature.
My body was brimming with the newly acquired energy, and I needed to familiarize myself with its flow.
Drawing upon the instincts of my past life, I settled into a meditative posture and began to breathe slowly.
"...Phew."
Shutting out all external distractions, I focused entirely on the energy circulating within me.
It was a dark, crimson-black light, utterly opaque and impenetrable.
The energy of the evil dragon, Tirmisia, writhed violently within me, mirroring the ferocious nature of its original master.
It was stationary, yet it flowed.
Though it was an energy I had claimed as my own, moving in accordance with my will, its fundamental nature remained alien.
The savage, thrashing energy reached a fever pitch, but as I gradually embraced even that violence, a profound, unprecedented stability settled over it.
With this, it might actually be worth a try.
Simply channeling the beast's energy drawn from the core in my heart granted me superhuman strength.
Infusing it into my legs allowed me to move with the speed of the wind, while concentrating it in my hands gave me the power to uproot giant trees.
But the ultimate application of this energy lay in physical regeneration.
Rather than merely shrouding myself in it, I could consume the energy to reconstruct damaged or missing parts of my body.
Since I could draw upon a virtually limitless reservoir of energy, this was one of my most frequently utilized techniques.
By reversing that very concept, I could reach the next stage.
The projection of energy.
And its condensation.
Maintaining a state suspended precisely between the two, I could manifest and anchor the energy wherever I desired.
When I fought the Grafted Beast, I had been unable to bind the thrashing energy, forcing me to unleash it in a raw, explosive burst. Now, however, I felt capable of absolute control.
"..."
Slowly, the crimson-black energy began to bead like sweat, gathering near my solar plexus.
It trembled violently, sharp as a blade and poised to erupt, before repeatedly dissolving back into my flesh.
After a grueling period of intense focus, a layer of energy, thin as a fingernail, finally coated my solar plexus.
The volatile, explosive energy barely held its shape...
...before the scar-like membrane was violently sucked back into my body in an instant.
Shards of energy pierced inward, stabbing ruthlessly at my internal organs.
It was a devastating backlash that threatened to tear my insides apart, but it could not breach the massive barrier of energy shielding my heart, and was entirely absorbed.
Only after the ordeal subsided did my mind snap back to reality.
—What a foolish endeavor you occupy yourself with.
Ignoring Tirmisia's bored drawl, I repeated the process over and over again.
My senses remembered the feeling.
Yet, the energy within my body felt subtly different.
I repeated the attempt dozens, then hundreds of times, trying to pinpoint that minute discrepancy.
"Ah, to hell with it."
My concentration had completely bottomed out.
The longest I could maintain the state was barely a single second.
And even then, I could only manifest it in one isolated spot on my body.
It felt so close, yet remained just out of reach.
I felt a surge of frustration at my inability to reach my target, but there was no use forcing it.
Realizing I couldn't break through this wall on my own, I stood up, walked down the long corridor, and knocked on the door opposite mine.
"...Come in."
I stepped inside and met the gaze of Gyal, who was leisurely flipping through an old book under the warm midday sun.
To relieve this unbearable itch, I needed to move my body.
And as far as I knew, there was only one person in this entire capital capable of giving me what I needed.
"Absolutely not."
Gyal shut me down instantly, without so much as glancing in my direction.
"Why not?"
"To avoid getting entangled in unnecessary complications."
What on earth was he talking about?
I had only asked for a quick spar, yet his reason for refusing was absurdly dramatic.
Sensing my confusion, Gyal turned a page and offered a brief explanation.
"The capital is practically hollowed out right now. Almost every knightly order and military unit has been dispatched on expeditions to suppress the beasts emerging across the provinces."
I recalled the chaos we witnessed upon entering the city.
The marching soldiers, the blazing heat of the entertainment district, and the distant screams.
It was a rebellion, timed with terrifying precision.
"They are raiding an empty house, quite literally. Someone is seizing the opportunity to usurp the throne while the King is stripped of his military might. And it is no amateur; it is someone who knows that once they secure the crown, the scattered armies will have no choice but to fall back in line under their command."
"In that case, shouldn't we be looking for the Prophet even faster?"
Gyal nodded slowly.
"The rebels likely have no idea that the Prophet is an envoy from the Magic Tower. She is probably hiding among the refugees, or perhaps she has been taken hostage."
"If you know all that, why are you just sitting here so calmly?"
"Because with the outcome of this conflict still undecided, there is absolutely no reason for us, as representatives of the Magic Tower, to interfere in their internal politics."
Gyal turned another page, his voice remaining flat and analytical.
"Once a victor emerges, they will be left militarily and financially depleted. No matter who wins, it only strengthens our hand, allowing us to negotiate your transfer on far more favorable terms."
A sudden sense of unease washed over me.
And I quickly realized its source.
"Then... is the Prophet's safety not a priority to you?"
"Her safety is not something the likes of you or I need to worry about."
Gyal finally snapped the book shut and looked me dead in the eye.
"The very fact that the royal army has yet to locate her simply means she has stumbled upon something far more entertaining than preparing for your departure."
He stared blankly into space for a brief moment, then shooed me away with a wave of his hand.
"If you are truly that bored, go search for her yourself. I trust you are intelligent enough to know what boundaries not to cross."
Dismissed from his room, I quietly turned over Gyal's words in my head.
In short, he was telling me to go find the Prophet myself, without taking sides in their little civil war.
There was clearly a web of complex political intrigue at play, but judging by Gyal's relaxed demeanor, it was unlikely I would face any real danger within the capital.
Well, it beats rotting in my room all day.
Rather than banging my head against a wall trying to force my training, it was better to clear my mind with a change of pace.
Who knew? I might even stumble upon some unexpected breakthrough along the way.
And even if I didn't, at least the time wouldn't be entirely wasted.
Armed with a seal of passage provided by Gerard, who had been briefed on my departure, I made my way toward the entertainment district.
The acrid smell of burning wood and the muffled sobs of the displaced filled the air.
Every now and then, a distant scream echoed through the streets, ringing sharply in my ears.