Return to Ktolari Manor
Upon my return to Count Ktolari's mansion after wrapping up the job, the count himself was waiting for me outside the gate.
"You've worked hard."
"Isn't this your territory? You didn't have to come out even once?"
Count Ktolari hadn't come anywhere near the walls during the entire defense battle.
"My face is too well-known—it wouldn't do me any good. And I wouldn't have helped much anyway."
I could understand not wanting to be recognized after living over a hundred years as a human. But saying he wouldn't have helped? That didn't ring true. Count Ktolari was no slouch—at least Master level, if not higher.
"Still, things would've been pretty dicey without me this time."
"There would've been casualties, sure, but we would've held."
Watching his utterly relaxed demeanor, I sensed it. Something had happened. Of course—Kutula wouldn't just sit back and watch his territory get overrun by ants.
"Feels like I got played somehow."
"Not at all. Thanks to you, the territory took minimal damage. I'm truly grateful."
He seemed sincere, but that didn't erase the nagging feeling.
Thanks to the Dragon Breath artifact, my reputation as the second saint had shaken the continent. People's faith in Juno had deepened even further. In the end, it felt like Juno's grand scheme—bestowing the saint title on me—was falling perfectly into place, which left a bitter taste. But between Kutula's dealings and the gods' machinations, I was starkly reminded how hard it was for a mere human to stray from a god's plan.
The regrettable part was that I could no longer realistically use the Dragon Breath. It was a mana-charging artifact, and Drakan's instructions said a bit of mana would suffice—but that was by dragon standards. By mine, even charging it nonstop for twenty-four hours would take over three years to make it usable again. I could develop an auto-charging formula someday, but for now, it was impossible.
My business with the Ktolari family was done, but I stayed on in their manor. I was using my clones to seriously search for the Nanagopi that Kutula had ordered me to catch.
The Ktolari viscountcy was pretty far east even by Western Continent standards, close to the passage to the Eastern Continent. If I found the Nanagopi there, transport would be easier. Of course, I didn't expect to find it quickly—there were no leads at all.
Old tales mentioned the Nanagopi sporadically, but none shared common threads. Still, my clones would keep multiplying, and by sniffing out anomalies, I'd find it eventually.
Nearby No. 1 and two other clones had grown a lot this time, having absorbed plenty of beast souls during the defense. The two besides No. 1 headed back to their original sectors. I stayed in the Ktolari viscountcy, producing new clones.
A few months later, as I made two new ones and they adjusted, No. 6—scouting central Eastern Continent—found something.
The Eastern Continent had always lagged behind the Western one, and it still did. It had issues before, but the aftermath of the ancient Nergal fragment plague and necromancer Jimnus Klgel's undead outbreak had widened the gap.
The central-northern region was mostly empty—few big cities, just scattered villages. Even those rarely got proper lord oversight.
In one such half-abandoned village, trouble brewed. It started with the village's lone hunter, found wandering the mountains like an idiot by villagers who brought him back. Next, a man gathering wood in the hills; then three kids picking berries, all turned into fools.
The village was in uproar. But who cared about some nameless speck? No one noticed, no one to ask for help. It became a house of mourning, with talk of fleeing elsewhere.
That's when No. 6, passing by, spotted it.
No. 6 immediately began searching the surrounding mountains. Nothing the first day. But the next, he found it: a lone water deer moving normally.
Water deer roam alone sometimes—no big deal. But one with a fragment embedded in its soul? That's weird.
He decided to tail it from afar. Surprisingly, it affected nothing around it. After days of this, wolves appeared on its trail.
The deer, grazing, lifted its head, scanning warily. It sensed something off—but didn't flee.
Soon wolves encircled it, lunging. That's when the deer's antlers flashed brilliantly.
No. 6 dodged reflexively but felt a massive sense of loss. And it wasn't just him.
I was midway through a perfectly smoked duck, fork in hand, when the wave hit me. The fork slipped.
"What the—?"
My odd reaction tensed the Ktolari household servants nearby.
"Not to your taste, my lord? Shall I have it remade?"
They knew my passion for food—I'd cooked in the kitchens myself a few times, earning the count's ire.
"No, it's fine."
I picked up the fork and chewed on. The loss hit every clone and me.
We got hit. Find out what.
All clones analyzed. Soon, the cause: lost memories. Pre-10-years-old bastard son era—gone.
Exposed to that antler light for a split second, and a decade vanished. Shocking: it affected souls too.
I pulled No. 6 back far. Deer might not sense souls, but sensitive animals can—dogs barking at nothing, cats bristling.
Too close, and who knows how much memory it'd wipe. No. 6's magic wasn't strong for ranged attacks. Best bet: infiltrate and burst the heart. But risky if hit by light.
Finishing dinner with tea, pondering options, Count Ktolari visited.
"What brings you?"
He hadn't come since I holed up making clones.
"Does it have to be something?"
He played coy, but obviously had business. I waved out guards and servants.
"Out with it."
"A message from Lord Kutula."
Related to the deer? Or another task?
"What is it?"
"Return to Akasha Territory."
Totally unrelated. Was this really from Kutula?
"I see. Still, I need to stick around awhile—got something tricky holding me up."
"Mind sharing?"
To him, I was just a loafer bunkered in the annex.
"Hard to explain."
No. 6 met a glowing-antlered deer and lost ten years' memories. Yeah, no.
"Anyway, message delivered."
He left. If it was truly Kutula's will, leaving soon was smart—but No. 6 came first.
No. 6 trailed from extreme distance. The light was the issue. What if approaching where light couldn't reach?
Idea hit. No. 6 burrowed underground, deep enough to block light. Gauged direction and distance to deer—over a century of soul experience made it easy.
Called nearby earth spirits.
Days of observation: deer's physicals matched normal deer.
[Dig a pit to drop the deer above into.]
Earth spirits worked. Ground collapsed beneath; deer thrashed.
[Just in case, hide underground yourselves—no getting hit by light.]
Spirits might not have memories, but that light was bad news.
Deer fell into the trap. Couldn't see, but felt the frenzy. Going now? Suicide.
Surfaced far off via earth. As expected, light shot skyward from the pit nonstop.
Waited. Day one, two: pitiful cries echoed; beasts approached, got zapped, wandered dumbly.
Day three: cries weakened. Light sporadic.
Day four: silence. No light. Not dead yet—life clings.
Risky, but mercy time. Approached underground. Heard faint whimpers. Surged up, burst heart.
Absorbed soul—and fragment.
Hoped memories returned—nope. But No. 6 grew massively.
Lucky it was a mountain deer—if in a city, catastrophe. Scarier than Emperor Yujin's powers in a way.
Didn't know the mechanics, but outer god fragments hit non-humans too.
One presumed world threat down. No pride, just done.
Heading to Akasha per Kutula, Neos Kingdom—Ktolari's—went under blockade. King assassinated.
"So that's it..."
Not sure if Kutula foresaw this, but couldn't leave now anyway.
Dispatched two nearby clones to Neos capital for intel. Regicide's no small thing—rare in history, always bloody aftermath. Someone pays, weight demands it.
Ktolari unrelated, but not quiet: strongest troops in kingdom. King's death? Succession war brewing. Military key.
Nobles swarmed count's manor; threshold worn. Annex stayed peaceful—Joseph, Jayke's guards sparred rangers, no outings.
Then Count Ktolari visited again. With a massive shitstorm in tow.