Chapter 104
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 103
Chapter Title: Blindness (2)
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The expedition's march proceeded smoothly.
Originally, the most important thing in any army is logistics. And here, there were nearly ten dragons, each capable of wielding magic on the level of an archmage.
With subspatial magic storing vast amounts of supplies, they could eat and drink their fill even in barren wastelands devoid of anything.
And what about marching without rest? For ordinary soldiers, pushing them this hard would spark complaints, and it wouldn't be strange if one or two dropped dead.
But everyone here was a superhuman, with even the weakest boasting strength comparable to a veteran knight.
They endured a full day of marching without batting an eye and dispatched the occasional monsters they encountered with ease.
These were all seasoned veterans, so morale never dipped from fatigue, and even if spirits wavered slightly, the reminder that they were off to save the world quickly steadied their resolve.
Ample supplies, exceptional individual prowess, sky-high morale.
It was truly the ideal army.
The only minor issue was that this wasn't a proper army but a ragtag group of volunteers, so there was no real chain of command. Their strength came with equally strong pride, making them resistant to taking orders from others.
-Haha! That last fight was a bit tough, but thankfully no casualties. Comrades, tend to the wounded. Those still fit, help set up camp, if you please.
The most powerful, the most noble by birth, yet the one who threw himself into battle without reservation.
Mortheus's words carried an uncanny persuasiveness, keeping everything running smoothly without issue.
After clearing out large monsters like ogres and cyclopes, Igni cast a spell on the pile of corpses, incinerating them in an instant.
She sidled up to me quietly and whispered.
"My lord. Have you learned anything?"
"A little."
I nodded casually, found a spot, and began preparing camp.
A thousand years' time gap. Unlike the wartime camping gear from back then, the future Magic Tower's products—crafted with utmost care at the Tower Lord's whim... no, his master's rightful demands—were on another level.
Far more comfortable, loaded with various extra effects, lightweight, and easy to set up.
Not just the expedition members, but even some dragons eyed them with sparkling interest... but I was used to it by now, so I pretended not to notice.
Fortunately, my cover as a king of a nation and Igni's as a lone pioneer who'd developed her own magic system held up, drawing no real suspicion.
More than that, plenty of others had joined mid-journey like me.
It had started with just Mortheus and a couple of dragons, but as they headed north where the God of Tragedy was locked in battle with the other gods, the rest had trickled in.
In fact, three more powerhouses had joined after me.
They hailed from different regions and races, so they tended to shrug off novelties with a "huh, neat."
I handed some potions to the wounded, and Igni slipped into the tent.
She cast a simple soundproofing spell, then slumped her shoulders and flopped down flat.
Because of her plump tail, she lay on her side rather than her back. Her arm compressed it, and gravity did the rest, making her mana pouch assert an absurd presence... but regrettably, that wasn't the priority right now.
"First, let me share what this body has discerned."
"Yeah. Wash this off first."
I held out my fist crusted with dried monster blood, and Igni flicked her tail. A magic circle appeared in the air, birthing a globe of water that enveloped my hand, scrubbing away the caked blood. The splattered blood and dirt on other spots were a bonus.
With my body clean, I lay beside Igni, staring blankly at the tent ceiling as I awaited her next words.
"Not just Father, but all the dragons didn't even suspect this body."
"They don't just fail to recognize you as Ignatius—they don't even find you suspicious at all?"
"Precisely. The magic I wield is undoubtedly a step more advanced than this era's. They're all archmage-level themselves, so they'd notice the discrepancy... yet they just brush it off as 'fascinating.'"
"...I didn't realize it was that extreme."
I'd never delved deep into martial arts, so it hadn't occurred to me. I'd just assumed the constant influx of new faces had numbed them to oddities.
But magic was a different story.
The moment the newly founded empire stabilized, Igni's first act was to build a Magic Tower in her territory and train mages.
She gathered every talented mage across the continent and advanced magic collaboratively.
It worked wonders; most archmages during the empire's reign hailed from the Tower.
Magic advanced rapidly, permeating daily life everywhere.
Magic is an academic pursuit at heart. Barring something like book burnings, it naturally progresses over time.
There might have been greater mages in the past, but magic's overall level inevitably advances from past to present, present to future.
Yet not a single dragon here—not one of the twelve archmages—batted an eye. A blatant anomaly.
As my face grew serious, Igni smirked and continued.
"It's probably by design."
"By design?"
"The reason the God of Tragedy drove the continent to the brink wasn't raw power. His divine authority was too unique."
"His divine name does make him seem weak."
"His innate combat prowess likely ranks among the gods' weakest. After harvesting fear continent-wide from the Night of Tragedy, his might surged... but regardless, fighting isn't his specialty."
The authority that split Tragodea into four cardinal directions. The instant Bilfred explained it, my first thought was it wasn't for combat.
Not for bolstering one's strength or slaying foes.
Death dealt or received was mere byproduct. The authority's true value... lay in its ultimate purpose.
Turning the world into a stage, fate into a script, guiding it to his desired ending.
All the God of Tragedy's powers served that end, enabling him to push the world to near-ruin once.
It's no coincidence that surviving the Night of Tragedy itself is called a miracle.
"But consider this: a play is but a fragment and imitation of reality. It can never encompass all of reality—and nor should it."
Igni's ensuing explanation was straightforward.
A play's essence lies in its story. To bring that story alive requires selection and focus.
Incidental details get glossed over to highlight the core theme.
"Simply put, it's like an ending where lovers elope across lines of race and class—touching, but it skips any mention of the hardships that follow."
"True. It wraps up with 'and they lived happily ever after,' but that's the most absurd part."
They might pine for lost wealth amid current toil, love might cool leading to quarrels, or misfortune could claim one via accident or illness.
Yet the elopement scene omits such grim forecasts.
Because the point is their resolve made manifest, proving their passion. That's the purpose.
"...O-Of course, this body believes different races and lifespans can still yield happiness aplenty."
"While one's alive, sure. But the survivor?"
"Nay."
Igni shook her head firmly, eyes brimming with conviction.
"For long-lived beings, what matters isn't how hard or happy the now is. They know too well it's but a fleeting spark that will pass."
"Then what does matter?"
"Memories."
"Memories?"
"A dragon's mindset allows enduring a decade of pain for joyful memories to cherish over the next millennium."
"That's a sensibility I really can't grasp."
"Naturally. Interspecies and individual differences are real, after all. ...So don't presume to guess the survivor's feelings. Just trust."
"Trust what?"
"That a century together lets them live millennia in bliss—that she'll make it so."
"..."
Her words carried a strange conviction. Overwhelmed, I nodded dazedly. Only then did Igni smile in satisfaction and return to the main topic.
"Enough on that... Anyway, the expedition's situation seems much the same. If we liken this world to a play we've entered, we're in the 'seung' phase of ki-seung-jeon-gyeol. Seung subtly builds tension."
"In other words, the stage where the expedition triumphs repeatedly, grows larger and stronger... reaching a level worthy of challenging the God of Tragedy head-on."
"Just so. But as you know, such tales never unfold entirely as the protagonists wish."
"Jeon..."
The third phase of ki-seung-jeon-gyeol. The turn, corresponding to crisis in balpum structure: onset, development, crisis, climax, resolution.
The moment that flips the mood entirely, ushering in the script's true theme.
"In plain terms, it's like the pure-love arc meant to heighten the rape-plunder payoff."
"...What the hell kind of terrifying analogy is that?"
Igni hugged her thick tail tight and began trembling.