The Calm Before the Storm (1)
Dawnguard, the dark city.
Fallen into the clutches of Karayan, the leader of the Ruins Merchant Group, the city had become a lawless zone where all manner of illegal experiments were conducted.
And on its outskirts stood a certain factory.
A pharmaceutical guild, allied with a mad mage, had carried out horrific experiments there to create an elixir of immortality.
As a result, hundreds of spirits and thousands of children were sacrificed.
The Archmage Demarion shook his head.
Deep regret pooled in Demarion's eyes.
As the Transgressor's longtime mentor, Demarion had subtly coaxed him into performing the ritual by teaching him the knowledge related to ascension.
But the Transgressor was not satisfied with merely learning the ways of magic and ascension.
Blinded by greed, he abused his master's teachings to commit countless atrocities.
"..."
Demarion continued, his gaze drifting toward the forest.
Demarion turned his head.
Looking at me with pleading eyes, he made a heartfelt request.
"..."
I kept my mouth shut.
Without a word, I simply stared at the Archmage Demarion.
A gentle breeze brushed past my hair, and the sound of birds chirping echoed through the dense forest.
We stood there, facing each other in silence for a long moment.
A soft chuckle escaped him.
After a bit more time had passed, his eyes, deep and vast as the ocean, crinkled into crescents.
With a faint smile, Demarion nodded as if he understood my hesitation.
"I want the true name of the Blind Sword Master."
Demarion froze.
In an instant, the smile vanished from his face.
Demarion admonished me in a calm, measured voice.
"That mistake of yours, which you call a request," I calmly finished my sentence, "I already resolved it a long time ago."
The Archmage Demarion stared at me in utter bewilderment, his expression demanding to know what on earth I meant.
Regardless of his reaction, I kept my eyes on him while continuing my train of thought.
'The elixir of immortality. The pharmaceutical guild and the mad mage. And the countless spirits and children sacrificed to their atrocities.'
"It's so unfair. Tinkerbell and Peter Pan only gave them back the exact same pain we suffered... Why did you kill them...?"
The day after escaping the underground arena.
The very place I had headed to with Adelia, whom I met in the back alleys.
A place dripping with a metallic tang, an unrecognizable stench, and fluorescent, polluted water...
'The abandoned factory of Dawnguard.'
Indeed.
There was a reason why the Archmage Demarion had set up such a 'trial' at the entrance of the top floor.
A mental strength powerful enough to pierce through cognitive distortion.
The agility to read the patterns of overlapping barriers.
And the destructive power to shatter those barriers in a single blow.
'Only a powerhouse who meets all three conditions can clear Dawnguard's Hidden Dungeon II.'
The Archmage Demarion.
Through the trial on the top floor, he had been searching for the right person to clear that dungeon.
And...
You have cleared the trial prepared by the 'Lord of the Second Hand and the Moment.'
The 'Lord of the Second Hand and the Moment' expresses gratitude for your good deed.
'...I had already prepared all of this a month ago.'
Indeed.
From Ritardando Jin, gifted to me by the Lord of the Second Hand and the Moment, to Adelia's trust earned through the requiem ritual, and finally, the trust of the Archmage Demarion.
Through that single quest, I had secured an immense amount of benefits.
"The abandoned factory in Dawnguard has collapsed. I defeated the corrupted Peter Pans and Tinkerbells there, and through a Requiem, I liberated all the victims bound to the factory."
"The traces of the great ones lingering on my body are the proof."
Demarion flinched, the light in his eyes wavering at my words.
His eyes narrowed as he began to stare intently at me.
How much time passed like that?
Letting out a hollow laugh, the Archmage Demarion shook his head, as if he still couldn't believe the situation.
"..."
In truth, the abandoned factory in Dawnguard was a follow-up quest.
Of course, it was possible to clear it beforehand without accepting the quest, but because it required navigating a complex, maze-like network of back alleys, finding the dungeon was nearly impossible without prior information.
Though, of course...
'...That doesn't apply to me.'
I had solved the quest in reverse.
Originally, Demarion's trial was designed to gauge whether one was capable of clearing the abandoned factory.
Instead, by clearing the abandoned factory first, I had obtained Ritardando Jin, and used that very ability to pass his trial.
As I was thinking this, the Archmage Demarion spoke again.
Demarion smiled as he looked at me.
I had won the Archmage's trust and faith in an instant.
Of course, passing the trial alone wasn't what forged this relationship.
It was the combined synergy of defeating the Transgressor, exuding the aura of the Sacred Covenant, and carrying the favor of the Lord of the Second Hand and the Moment.
'This couldn't be better.'
The Archmage Demarion was not just a great mage.
He was one of the oldest living elves, and by listening to the whispers of the World Tree, he was practically a living Akashic Record.
If I could bring him to my side, the potential ways to utilize him would be endless.
'Everything is going smoothly.'
Once I settled Strawberry Latte in, my business at the Wintersield Magic Academy would be complete.
Then, it would be time to move on to the next phase of the plan.
Having finished my thoughts, I replied to the Archmage Demarion's earlier words.
"As long as I am promised a corresponding reward, I am willing to fulfill any request."
Nodding with a grin, Demarion leaned in toward me and asked,
"..."
"...?"
Jacques von Heibrun paused, his eyes narrowing the moment he stepped foot into the entrance of the forest.
The eerie, ominous energy he had felt during his last visit had completely vanished.
For some reason, the forest was abnormally clear.
Moonlight filtered through the branches, and the starlight reflected perfectly in the puddles.
'Something is wrong.'
The place where he was supposed to meet Doricco Shiro was near the edge of the lake.
Biting his lip anxiously, Jacques quickened his pace.
However...
"...!"
Upon reaching the lake, Jacques was struck speechless.
The surface of the water was as clear as a mirror.
The dark red, burning form of Haewolsumo that he had seen during his last visit was nowhere to be found.
Instead, a swarm of tiny jellyfish floated above the lake, emitting a soft blue light.
"W-what is the meaning of this..."
Jacques's voice trembled.
He looked around frantically, trying to find any trace of what had happened.
But he could sense neither the energy of the evil god nor any sign of Doricco Shiro.
"Doricco Shiro!"
His shout echoed through the forest, but the only response was the startled rustling of wild animals.
Jacques von Heibrun looked down at the edge of the lake. The reflection of himself in the water looked utterly pathetic.
To reach the heights he had so desperately craved, he had been willing to abandon his lifelong beliefs and hold hands with evil...
"Ha."
Yet, the decision he had made at the cost of his lifelong convictions had crumbled so pointlessly.
"Ha, hahaha..."
Jacques laughed, his head hung low.
Even as he realized with painful clarity how far he had fallen, the reality of having gained absolutely nothing mocked him.
It was almost comical how miserably ruined he was.
Pyo-ro-rok?
Just then, a tiny jellyfish floated over from the lake toward him.
The jellyfish hovered nearby, circling him warily.
The energy radiating from the tiny, blue-glowing creature was pure beyond measure.
Staring blankly at it, Jacques muttered to himself in a trembling voice.
"...Whose doing is this?"
Suddenly, a terrible sense of dread washed over his entire body.
The restoration of the Sky Ocean Forest was no mere natural phenomenon.
Someone had clearly visited this place before him and changed everything.
"Urgh!"
Jacques flinched, clutching his arm.
A sharp, tingling sensation shot up along his scar.
It was the horrific phantom pain that had plagued him constantly ever since that day.
"Disappointing. Is this truly the skill of the one called the Great Star of Midtemple?"
A memory flashed through his mind.
The dark-blue-haired man he had met on the training grounds a few days ago.
The 13th Sword Master, Gaon.
"..."
There was no physical evidence.
Yet, Jacques von Heibrun's instincts were screaming at him.
The man who had humiliated and scarred him had stretched his reach all the way here.
'That bastard...'
Jacques clenched his trembling fist tightly.
The existence of Doricco Shiro and the evil god was a secret that could never be revealed.
Staying here any longer was too dangerous. He needed to return to the Holy City of Midtemple immediately to assess the situation properly.
As the tiny jellyfish in the lake watched his retreating figure, Jacques hurriedly left the forest.
"..."
The secret treasury of Midtemple.
Specifically, in front of the display case storing holy relics.
Standing silently before it, Jacques's face darkened.
Of all things, the absolute worst-case scenario he had feared had come to pass.
"Damn it."
Jacques spat out a low curse.
...One of the Retrospective Eyes of Aether was missing.