Chapter 35
Chapter 35
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 35
Chapter Title: Wizard Hunt (1)
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A space that evoked the atmosphere somewhere between a cave and a basement.
Surrounded on all sides by rough natural stone, the only proof of human craftsmanship was the tightly packed basalt slabs laid across the floor. The air was dank and humid, like half-swimming through a waterway, but in stark contrast, colorful candles lit within alcoves bathed the room in daylight brightness.
Etched onto the smoothly polished slabs was an intricate magic circle.
A grand circle enclosing multiple overlapping concentric rings, arcane letters holding mysteries beyond ordinary comprehension, and symbols connecting, twisting, and varying them. Each thick line glowed faintly red, no matter what medium had been used to draw it.
And in the margin of one side of the magic circle sat an iron cage.
The cage was far larger than what would hold an ordinary beast. Inside were three trolls crammed together.
- Gruk...
- Gruk, grrugrruk...
Trolls typically possessed the strength to bend thick bars like a child's fingers. Yet these trolls made no move to touch the bars. Their tiny eyes squinted shut like a sick donkey's, merely wheezing exhausted breaths.
The trolls' breathing filled the air for only a moment. Then came the faint clink of chains rattling somewhere, followed by a humming tune.
Clank, clank...
'Hm, hmhmm, huum~ ♪'
The sound drew closer. What had appeared to be a natural stone wall suddenly crumbled with a roar, revealing a man's silhouette. As the man and his followers entered, the wall reassembled seamlessly, as if never disturbed.
The man exuded an eerie aura. Streaks of gray in his hair, thick-lensed glasses, gentle eyes, and pale skin gave him a scholarly look. But in opposition, his pupils gleamed with an inorganic light, and the chain in his hand bound blood-soaked people.
Aside from their bodies being marred by bruises and wounds, the chained group shared no obvious common traits. Two burly men and a woman in her prime. They shuffled forward blankly, following the man's lead.
Thud!
But the moment one bumped into the wall, the woman's eyes snapped into focus. Frowning, she parted her cracked lips.
"...Advisor? Hic, what is this... Wh-where are we? And these chains..."
The man's face twisted savagely. But he quickly masked his irritation, turning to her with a bright smile.
"No need to worry, scribe. More importantly, care to take a look at this?"
"A-Advisor? What do you..."
The man snapped his fingers with a crack, and her eyes glazed over once more. Speechless, she trailed after him like a puppet.
He yanked the chain, seating the group in another margin of the magic circle. They lay down on the floor as meekly as animals with throats slit.
In magic circles, margins typically marked positions for the spell's target or sacrifice. Meaning one side—trolls or humans—would be the recipient, the other the offering.
The man stood at the circle's center and placed his hand on the floor. The circle's faint glow intensified, lifting the people in the margin into the air.
This time, the humans were the sacrifices.
Clank, crunch, craaack—
The chains bound the three bodies viciously. In that instant, the two men and woman lost their forms. Bones shattered, muscles pulped, flesh twisted. Their bodies merged into a massive lump of meat, dripping crimson blood and fluids below.
The chains squeezed the meat lump harder. Blood pooled thickly on the slabs, forming a sodden puddle. In a flash, it turned pitch black, vaporizing into a dark afterimage.
The floating afterimage split in two. One clung to a candle wick, the other burrowed into a troll. As the candle ignited, the caged trolls' eyes flew wide.
The man commanded the trolls.
"Emerge from there. And kneel before your master."
- Grroooarrr...
- Grooooaaar...
Screeech—
The trolls effortlessly bent the bars and burst out. They knelt before the man as ordered. Outwardly, no sign they were magically controlled.
The man nodded in satisfaction and placed the lit candle in a wall alcove.
It was a reassuring sight. Every candle filling the alcoves linked to a monster's mind. Most still lurked underground, but the man believed the day would come when he'd lead an army of them to conquer the world.
Yet as he scanned the alcoves, his eyes wavered.
"Hm?"
Two trolls from the Twin Canyons, test subjects released into the world months ago. The candles tied to their minds were extinguished.
He narrowed his eyes. He'd sabotaged things enough to prevent the censor from slaying them—what had happened? Had they ultimately borrowed the censorate or clan's power?
'...Time to investigate.'
He snapped his fingers again. A tiny shadow fluttered in. A one-eyed body with bat wings—a monocular.
"Scout the Twin Canyons and vicinity. Report every detail to me."
- Squeek, squeek!
The monocular flew out through the crumbling stone wall. Ymir Demil, advisor of Remtana, adjusted his glasses, his colorless eyes glinting.
*
Thwack!
- Squeek!
The axe blade shredded something mid-flight. A rat-like death cry, blood spraying.
The censorate soldiers slowly rose. They'd flinched at Kadim suddenly hurling his axe into the air. Amid their awkward coughs, Duncan stepped forward.
"Wh-what'd you hit, my lord? Why the axe all of a sudden..."
"No idea. Better check."
Up close, the corpse's body was mangled, leaving only intact bat-like wings. The thin, glassy blood marked it no ordinary bat. Faintly, it carried a trollish aura.
Kadim finished inspecting and approached Enrico.
"You said monsters around here were wiped out, right, censor?"
"That's so, but...?"
"Guess the wizard doesn't just control trolls. He just sent a scout our way."
"...For real?"
Kadim held up the tattered monocular corpse. Enrico groaned. Best hurry past the canyons. The soldiers, clueless, quickened march per the censor's order.
Enrico and his censorate, Kadim and Duncan, were heading from Ekkl to Remtana. Returning to base after recuperation. No rush, but the incident killed any leisure.
Kadim had accepted the censor's offer to kill the wizard.
He'd wanted to meet the wizard anyway, to uncover the aura in the trolls. Plus, clearing the Arch Paladin murder charge and getting paid? Hard to refuse.
But the offer had a big flaw.
'Still, doesn't it mean killing a Magic Tower wizard, censor?'
'...Yes.'
'Tricky. My destination's the Tower. Goal's the first Lord's records. If word gets out I killed a wizard, it could derail plans.'
Enrico panicked briefly. But as a seasoned politician, he deftly countered.
'Tower mages prize knowledge above gold. The first Lord's records are relics to them. Whatever your reason... without major inside connections, you couldn't access them anyway.'
'...'
'How about this? Accept, and I'll exhaust every avenue for access. Tough, but better than solo. And I'll bury any trace of you harming the wizard. No worries.'
He'd expected records hard to obtain at the Tower anyway. Originally planned to cut through obstructing mages, but a milder solution wasn't bad. Kadim then accepted.
The wizard advisor was in hiding, location unknown. But surely near Remtana, so they'd stay and search. Kadim hastened, lost in thought.
'Wizard, wizards...'
By game and first playthrough memory, they were humans mimicking 'spirits.'
Originally, spirits drew ambient mana inward to manifest externally. Humans with extreme mana sensitivity imitated this, calling themselves 'wizards' and performing miracles beyond common sense.
But now, something was different.
Kadim's mana sensitivity was the worst among Hero party members.
Couldn't sense ambient mana; even a wizard gathering it up close went unnoticed.
Of course, decapitating pre-casts or smashing spells with raw force rarely let them harm him. Still, regarding magic and mana, he was brute-force incarnate.
Yet now, he sensed 'magic' presences.
Faint, vague dank auras; dark afterimages on slain monsters.
Three possibilities: second playthrough perk granting magic-related trait; advisor's magic unique; or over 300 years, 'magic' principles changed...
'Hm... Maybe build a tower to train wizards?'
Melissa's first playthrough words resurfaced.
"..."
Kadim shook his head vigorously. No solid proof yet. Beat a wizard, truth would reveal. Priority: prepare thoroughly.
"Ah, hot hot hot!"
"Ugh, careful!"
"Hey, grab it there again! Again!"
Soldiers fumbled carrying the paladin's plate armor, covered. Fragments inside rolled; keeping level tricky. Kadim eyed indifferently, then asked Enrico.
"Censor, any tight-lipped master smith in Remtana? Processing those into weapons would ease wizard hunting."
Enrico stroked his beard slyly. Frowning uncomfortably, he hesitated before speaking.
"There is... there is, but... Sigh..."
He trailed off, exhaling deeply.
*
Remtana was a modest small city.
Still a city: central censor's office ringed by homes and shops on a main street. Neat brick buildings, paved slabs; faces bustled vibrantly, like a painting. Custom: show visitors only this when dignitaries arrived.
But stray to the outskirts, and the true face showed.
Unpaved dirt and shit-strewn slabs replaced; people sprawled like at home. Decrepit buildings sprouted like warped mushrooms amid spiderweb alleys. This was average for the world, but juxtaposed with pristine center, contrast stung sharper.
And in that outskirts corner, a crumbling brick house in perpetual shade—no sunlight— was Kadim's target.
Thud, thud, thud—
Kadim rapped the rusted iron door. Bitter iron dust wafted through cracks. No forge heat; fire long dead.
Bang, bang, bang—
No response; he pounded harder. Hinges popped, corner dented. Door wailed perilously.
Reaction now. Clang clang; something collapsed inside. Long wait later, owner appeared.
"Damn it, you break doors like that?! Who is it! Stirring racket late afternoon!"
Bushy hair merged to white beard; rags hole-pocked fist-sized. Limp right foot, but moves brisk, voice strong. Stubborn as hell, plain.
"You the 'Iron Hammer Geezer'?"
"...What? Yeah, but? Who're you?"
"Got recommended. Best smith in town. Here for special order."
Facing barbarian bulk, geezer felt instinctual dread. But weathered against rough types. Spat phlegm, sneered casually.
"Atalan merc? Heh... No idea who fed you that, but I quit hammering ages ago. Need smithing, try central street forges."
"Not for ordinary smiths. Got plenty coin. Pay generous as wanted."
"Coin? Think I look like some money-grubbing wretch?"
He did. Kadim stared silently.
Geezer erupted like boiling fire.
"You illiterate savage! Hill folk digging dirt beyond mountains, slicing folks for coin, now playing rich fool! Damn, should never deal with ignorant scum... Don't need your bloody filthy money, so scram..."
"Got soft food at home, geezer?"
"...What?"
"If not, stock up soon. No teeth makes hard stuff tough."
Geezer froze. Eyes rolled to meet Kadim's. Abyss-deep pupils, iron-grip fists. No mere talker.
Geezer stepped back. Deflated tone.
"A-anyway, can't take work. Quit entirely. Even if censor—not advisor, censor—begged here, no dice. So leave..."
"...That true, Gullak?"
Middle-aged man eavesdropping slinked in. Geezer's eyes bulged ghost-struck.
"Eh? C-censor, sir...?"
"Asked if even my begging wouldn't sway you, Gullak."
"..."
Geezer gaped speechless.
A fly could've flown in, no reply.