Chapter 139
Chapter 139
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 139
Chapter Title: Crimson Threads
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"Every time I see it, I think living here would be pretty nice."
Trunble said as he looked at the well-paved road.
"Yeah. Wonder what it feels like to live in a place like this."
One of the laborers pulling the cart wiped his sweat and replied. The laborers following behind stopped in their tracks as well.
Trunble went back and forth along the line of carts, checking the quantities of goods. Four No. 8s, three No. 6s, two No. 11s...
"Let's take a short break and then get moving again."
The laborers sought shade. The April sun was starting to sting.
Trunble held his record board up to his forehead to block the light.
"How much do you think it costs to install one of those?"
Paul asked. He was a laborer who frequented the Administrative Bureau, in charge of logistics transport.
"Which one?"
He asked back, not sure what "those" referred to.
Paul pointed with his finger. He was indicating the magic lamp.
"The magic lamp itself isn't that expensive. The production cost isn't outrageously high."
"Is that so?"
"But the maintenance costs are insane. Even with a systematized magic device, a mage has to personally replenish the mana. The labor costs are unbearable."
"That's ironic. Some people can use mana, and some can't."
Trunble shook his head slightly.
"Anyone can use mana. Anyone can sense it. It's just a matter of how deeply and delicately you can handle it that makes the difference."
"Really? So I could use it too?"
Trunble pulled a metal rod about two finger-widths long from his pocket.
"This is what I mainly use. Try holding it."
"What's this?"
"You could call it a device that lets you use mana freely without casting. Grip it and focus."
Paul gripped the rod and concentrated. At one point, sparks flew from the end of the rod.
"Whoa!"
Paul, who had been admiring it, suddenly went "Ugh," and sat down on the ground. He said his head was dizzy and he felt nauseous.
"Experiencing it firsthand is the quickest way. Even just producing a few sparks leaves your head foggy and your stomach churning. That's how it is for people like us."
"So not just anyone can be a mage."
"That's why they're so valuable, right?"
Trunble put a cigarette in his mouth. He touched the rod Paul had returned to the tip of the cigarette and channeled mana.
A faint flame flickered up briefly. The end of the cigarette glowed red as it lit.
"You can even light a fire with it. You really are a mage."
Paul laughed as he said it.
"I'm not bragging, but I had some talent. Even so, this is my level. I tried making scrolls via the Imaginary Realm and gave up. It just wasn't working."
"It's a good thing it didn't. If you weren't at the 2nd Bureau, we wouldn't have our livelihoods."
"Does it have to turn out that way?"
Paul stood up, his dizziness fading.
"The mage I saw when I was young cast a spell that let him talk to the dead. It was so amazing."
"Mages' spells come in all varieties. Even those called Necromancers are mages in the broad sense. Talking to the dead, though—that's a pretty appealing spell."
"Yeah. Very appealing. And it wasn't just talking; it let you fully know that person's thoughts. It was a mystical experience that's hard to put into words."
"You had a precious experience."
"It really was precious."
Watching Paul smile contentedly made Trunble feel good too. A spell to talk to the dead. Miracle seemed a better word than magic.
Trunble checked the time. It was 2 p.m.
"Let's get moving again."
The carts moved along the road. This was the noble district, so they couldn't stray from the designated path.
"I've confirmed it. You'll be storing everything here?"
"Looks like it, for the time being."
A guard glanced at the carts lined up in front of the warehouse.
"The June festival's going ahead as planned?"
The guard asked. Trunble let out a small sigh as he answered.
"Nothing's confirmed yet. We've moved the 'St. Andre Festival' supplies here for now, but rumors of cancellation are floating around everywhere."
"It's the highlight of the year. Such a shame."
"It was such a huge incident. Recovery comes before festivals."
"That's true, but I also think we should proceed as usual in times like these. Well, the higher-ups will decide, so we'll keep our mouths shut and follow orders."
"Exactly."
Trunble looked at the carts lined up in front of the warehouse. These were goods brought into the Holy City half a year ago in preparation for the June festival.
Supplies for the Holy City citizens had gone to the Second Warehouse in the central plaza, while these were for the nobles.
"Procedure requires checking inside."
"Go ahead."
"It's a hassle doing this every time with familiar faces, but orders came down from above."
"Everyone needs to be cautious right now."
He scraped off the wax seal on the box with a hooked knife. He and the guard lifted the lid of the No. 11 crate together. The wooden planks were heavy enough that two grown men had to grunt to lift them.
The laborers, who had been watching from a distance, ran over to help.
"It's a tent."
"They say it came from the south, and it costs over a thousand imperial gold coins."
"Damn, that's expensive."
"Nobles' tastes."
"Poking around carelessly and scratching it would be a headache."
"Probably."
Trunble exchanged glances with the guard and smiled.
"The wealth of the Holy City nobles is truly astounding. I'm amazed every time. Where does all that money come from?"
"If they used even a fraction of it to raise our salaries."
"Our bureau chief is working on it, so good news should come soon."
"With Bureau Chief Aleng, we can trust and wait. Thanks to him two years ago, our conditions improved."
Administration for the citizens. Not just fancy words—it always delivered results. So it earned respect.
"Let's check the next one."
It was while opening a No. 9 crate.
Trunble looked up. A flash of light came from far away. What was that?
Something appeared in the sky above where the white light had flashed. It looked like a loosely unwound ball of thread. Red lines wriggled freely, painting the sky.
That must be where Mel transported the goods.
Trunble stared blankly at the sight. He realized it was an emergency, but he couldn't tear his eyes away.
The fully unwound threads began tangling with each other. Even from this distance, he could make them out clearly. Up close, they'd be as thick as a grown man's torso.
The threads, wriggling in midair, suddenly stopped moving.
Trunble felt a magical pulse rip through his body. His body shrank back. The urge to flee dominated his entire being.
Silence fell. Trunble turned around. He shouted at the top of his lungs toward the waiting laborers.
"Run!"
That was when it happened.
A chilling sensation came from behind. He didn't want to look, but his neck was already turning.
The wriggling red thread stiffened. Red rain poured down. Thousands of threads fell vertically.
It was like a curtain. Looking at the dense red curtain, he thought: What happened to the people down there?
Screams rang out as the laborers fled. The guard ran toward the watchtower. Screams seemed to echo from far away.
In the midst of the chaos, with the situation unresolved, Trunble spotted Paul standing there dumbfounded.
Was his body frozen?
His eyes met Paul's. An inexplicable anxiety washed over him. Paul gave a awkward smile, as if apologetic, and walked toward the cart.
He felt he had to stop him. He didn't know why, but leaving him be seemed wrong.
It was as one of his feet lifted off the ground.
Boom!
The crate exploded. At the same time, a blinding light burst out, too bright to open his eyes.
The shockwave sent his body flying. He hit the ground shoulder-first. He rolled a couple of turns before finally stopping.
His head spun. His vision was gone. His body ached like it was breaking apart. He barely caught his breath after vomiting up bile that surged up.
A beam of light shot into the sky. Paul was next to it.
"Paul?"
"Sorry. But I have to do this."
"Stop it! I don't know what you're trying to do, but stop right now!"
"Sorry."
A naked woman floated up from the exploded crate. Not just one or two.
Why were there people in crates meant for festival supplies? And these crates had been personally inspected by Bureau Chief Aleng and his deputies.
"O Seer. We shall correct the prophecy."
Muttering incomprehensible words, Paul held the hooked knife to his throat. Trunble reached out, shouting no.
The hooked knife dug into Paul's throat. Blood poured from the long red gash.
Paul staggered, holding out, then collapsed to the ground. A massive pool of blood formed at the same time.
And then.
The red ball of thread he'd seen far away appeared in the sky. The women enveloped in the light beam dropped to the ground one by one.
One woman who rolled across the ground stopped right in front of Trunble's nose. She was definitely dead.
Her veins bulged grotesquely across her body, some burst and soaked in blood. Her abdomen was torn open horizontally.
Even in that state, the woman's eyes swiveled.
Their gazes met.
Trunble squeezed his eyes shut and opened them. A world of pure white unfolded before him.
A child was there.
The moment he saw it, he knew.
That's me.
"What do you want?"
The child said. His mouth wouldn't open easily. It felt like anything he said would come true, but he sensed he shouldn't.
"What do you want?"
The child asked again.
"You're me, right?"
Trunble asked back. The child smiled brightly and nodded. Seeing that made an uncontrollable hunger surge up.
I want to eat.
The intense desire clouded his mind. Unconsciously, he took a step forward. He wanted to grab the child and tear into it raw.
As the child was right in front of him, Trunble raised both hands. Then he slapped his own cheeks as hard as he could.
There was no pain. No sensation of hitting. But it cleared his mind. The hunger that had surged subsided to a controllable level.
A voice came from somewhere.
By consuming it, you become one and perfect.
Me eating myself?
That pure-looking child was himself. What would be left after devouring it?
A headache hit. At the same time, knowledge he didn't know flooded his mind.
This is where laws are born.
This is the beginning and the end.
This is the space connecting me and the universe.
The thought didn't last. His thinking stopped again. The desire to devour the child before him and return to a blank state dominated his body.
He grabbed the child with both hands. The child smiled with pure innocence. As he brought his trembling jaw to the child's neck.
It was a blue hand. A hand from somewhere blocked his mouth.
The child pulled away. Landing softly on the ground, the child smiled and waved.
The blue hand pulled his body. Trunble struggled, then snapped his eyes open.
"Remember what you saw there. It's the information we need."
It was a man he'd never seen before. A tattered cloak fluttered in the wind.
"Can you stand?"
The man said. Trunble nodded and rose. The world of pure white felt like a dream. But he knew it wasn't.
"Go to the palace. Tell His Majesty to save Bureau Chief Aleng no matter what."
"What?"
"Hurry. If they block your entry to the palace, show them this."
He caught the item the man tossed. A badge with a blue lion. The symbol of the imperial family and proof of authority.
Only a handful in the empire possessed one.
"Just say you're the one sent by Lander to His Majesty."
With that, the man moved.
Trunble looked up. Red threads were falling from the sky.