Chapter 122
Chapter 122
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 122
Chapter Title: The Archmage of Gu Poison
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"A monster?"
Livia's eyebrow arched upward.
"No, the Dragon Mountains have always been a monster nest. What, do you think that's a place where people live? Has your cognition already started to slip?"
Livia drew the sign of the cross while muttering nonsense like, "Lord, please let me know once more if following this mad Third Imperial Princess is truly the right path."
"……."
Shring!
As Iberella reached for her shamshir, Livia, mid-prayer, clamped her mouth shut like a clamshell.
"...The monster I'm talking about isn't some lowly variant lizard."
Iberella sighed as she spoke.
"Livia, do you believe dragons actually exist?"
The abrupt question pried open Livia's tightly sealed mouth once more.
"...Dragons? There's no way something like that exists. It's just a lizard from some folk superstition fantasy."
Separate from her crazy tendencies, Livia—as the most devout follower of the Golden Lion Church—would never believe in dragon legends.
And Iberella felt the same.
"Right, dragons and such. No way they exist. You're correct."
Iberella gazed toward the northern lands where the Dragon Mountains lay.
"But there's someone who tried to create that non-existent dragon himself."
"...You're saying they made a chimera?"
Livia's eyes cooled sharply.
Not because it challenged the sacred power of the Lord.
"How dare anyone lay hands on the Empire's secrets...!!"
The Empire was secretly cultivating an elite monster unit.
Chimera research was the foundational technology for it.
A technique possessed only by the Holy Empire on this continent. If anyone else knew that secret, it could disrupt the Empire's plans.
But once again, Livia's assumption missed the mark.
"No, not some crude method like that."
Surprisingly, Iberella dismissed the secret art—held solely by the Empire across the entire continent—as low-class.
"Archbishop, are you familiar with the sorcery called Gu Poison?"
"No."
Livia answered instantly, without a second's hesitation.
"Exactly. No reason you would. It's a forbidden art on an even higher level than chimera creation."
Iberella spoke while holding a single book in her hand.
"Gu Poison isn't about simply fusing monsters like in chimera making. You gather various venomous creatures, let them devour each other, and in the end, produce a single lifeform one rank higher."
Livia's expression soured further upon recognizing whose book Iberella held.
"...Truly a blasphemous forbidden art. To 'create' life that never existed in this world."
Iberella smirked, as if Livia's reaction was right on cue.
"Anyway, that Gu Poison technique is known to only one person."
Livia knew exactly whom Iberella meant.
Jenos.
The greatest archmage in continental history, born in the Holy Empire.
But branded a heretic, he had all his research confiscated and was exiled beyond the Empire's borders—a tragic mage.
"But why bring up Jenos and Gu Poison now? He's a heretic who croaked hundreds of years ago."
Iberella's lips curled at Livia's words.
"You're the Archbishop of the White Sheep Palace, and you call yourself my advisor. If you can't infer this much, maybe you should quit."
"……."
Livia met Iberella's gaze steadily, then straightened her posture and closed her eyes.
Judging by Iberella's demeanor now, this wasn't a joke.
They might be casual day-to-day, but Iberella was a woman with the vessel to devour the entire continent—an empress in the making.
If she couldn't figure it out with this much of a hint, Iberella really would cast her aside.
'Tch, such a hassle...'
Livia grumbled inwardly as she recalled Iberella's words.
'Monster, creating dragons, a forbidden art called Gu Poison where they kill each other to raise their rank, known only to Archmage Jenos...'
How long did she ponder?
Livia's eyes snapped open, grave with realization.
"Third Imperial Princess, don't tell me... Jenos is still alive?"
Iberella, who had been polishing her shamshir while Livia thought, smiled in satisfaction.
"Why do you think that?"
"Because the massive Gu Poison he unleashed is still spread across the Valley of Death."
"Correct."
As expected of Livia—spot-on reasoning.
"That mad monster is still alive. Of course, calling it human is a stretch."
Iberella's voice turned icy as a northern blizzard, her killing intent flashing.
"Unless you're one of those three dukes who've transcended human limits and ascended to the jade throne. Whether four marquises or the Twelve Archbishops—if you step into that monster's domain, survival is unlikely. Absolutely."
"Chwiik! Then we'll meet at the cliffs of the abyss in a week."
Hatan said as he mounted the massive wolf he'd ridden in on.
As discussed yesterday, the orcs, cyclopes, and lycanthropes would take the lower path, so it was time to part ways here.
"Are you sure just you all will be fine?"
Brontes asked with concern.
No matter how strong these humans were, they had the smallest numbers among the group.
Just five in total.
The other races each had at least double digits, and since they were all heading lower, it was natural to worry.
"How about everyone goes the lower path together after all?"
Brontes suggested once more, but.
"There's no way magic strong enough to repel all of you is just casually laid out. For the mountains' sake, we have to investigate. And."
I firmly restated my refusal.
Then I lightly tapped Brontes' newly forged greatsword.
Ziiing!
The blade sang, a clear tone ringing purely through the surroundings.
"Trust me, Brontes. I'm far stronger than you think."
Brontes chuckled.
"True enough. I worried needlessly. Alright, then let's meet in seven days."
With me speaking so firmly, Brontes no longer pressed and left with the cyclopes to pack up the hut.
The last to approach was Bauckalrak.
"Krurr. Sorry, Jerome. I'd love to go together, but... I never want to take the upper path again. Krurr!"
Bauckalrak clearly conveyed his refusal to head upper, even as he looked embarrassed and ashamed.
"It's fine. The lower path won't be a picnic either."
The upper path felt ominous, but lower wouldn't be easygoing.
Those swarms of lesser drakes in that brief moment were plenty to sicken anyone of people.
"You might even lag behind us, so you'd better hurry."
If there was nothing major upper, even if they spent a day or two searching, we'd arrive first.
'Let's see what's up there.'
What kind of bastard was scheming in these depths.
"Kwaaaang!"
Kwang!
A drake, saliva dripping at the fresh prey, slammed its head into the ground.
"Hmph!"
Set hurled a clutched fireball at the drake's buried head with all his might.
"Kieeeek!"
The drake shrieked in agony as the flames burrowed straight into its ear.
No matter how tough a drake's hide, its internals couldn't withstand the heat.
Slash!
As it tried to lift its head, the drake's neck severed cleanly.
No blood dripped from the cut between head and body.
"Whew!"
Beskin, who had decapitated the drake, exhaled deeply.
"Young master, this upper path really has barely any monsters. It's nothing like the lower."
As Beskin said, the upper path had almost no monsters.
And the few present were all massive brutes.
"Dragon turtles, drakes, urgs... Their common trait? Brains too small for their bodies. Makes them dull to most senses."
Aria explained while prodding the severed drake head.
"So it's definitely a spook, then, miss?"
We heading upper felt remarkably little unease. That alone proved a spook was active here.
"Yes. And even clearer proof is this. Detecting!"
As Aria cast her detection spell, we saw faint static noise crackling through the surrounding mana flow.
"Mana is the driving force moving all living things. As you can see, the flow here is terribly disrupted. Sensitive creatures would instinctively avoid it."
"...Uh, but. Spread this wide... how strong is it?"
Saladin swallowed dryly, staring at the mana flow caught in Aria's detection.
The noise covered the entire upper path we'd traversed.
"...This level? At least 7th circle. And not a user—a master."
Aria's words silenced everyone. The thought crossing all our minds was much the same.
'Just who the hell laid down magic like this?'
The continent's top mage was Aria's father, Duke Darius von Wendinel.
Darius was nearing 8th circle user realm.
Which meant the one who cast this on the mountains boasted at least one tier below—at minimum.
"Looks like things are getting interesting."
I stood, dusting off after peeling some hide from the drake corpse.
These hides would all go to the cyclopes as a gift, so I had to collect every scrap.
I wiped the blood from the hide and looked to Aria.
"Miss, how long can you maintain this magic?"
"Detecting itself isn't high-rank, so no issue... but wider area means more mana."
"Then, can you expand it to max?"
"Sure, I'll try. Detecting!"
Aria's mana stretched farther.
"……."
We were speechless.
The irregular mana flow caught in the detection blanketed an area too vast to see.
Gulp!
"M-Miss... this is 7th circle master level, right?"
Saladin swallowed again as he asked.
"Y-Yeah... probably."
Aria replied without conviction.
"Hm."
I pointed to a spot with my finger after checking the detection.
"There. That area's got the worst noise."
The point I indicated lay farther north along the upper path.
"Let's go."
I led the way, Beskin and Aria hurrying to keep up.
"Haa. Why the hell did I come all the way here...?"
Set grumbled as he trailed behind.
"This damn... Why do I always get dragged into crap like this when I'm with that bastard?!"
Saladin wailed as he chased after.
Deeper in the continent than anywhere else.
In a dim place devoid of any life force, a robed old man conducted his research.
Bubble bubble!
Whatever he was brewing, the old man stared intently into the flask.
As the flask's contents changed color, his eyes gleamed, and he extended his arm.
Swish.
The arm emerging from the robe was no arm worth calling one.
Emaciated to the bone, its grotesque shape was beyond eerie.
And not just the place—this old man exuded no life force either.
He gently shook the flask, and at that moment, the area within the robe where his eyes should be flashed red.
"...These rat pups have crawled in quite deep this time."
He'd usually leave them be.
For hundreds of years in this sanctum, not one had set foot here.
Very rarely, once every few decades, some fool headed this way.
But most ended as daily fodder for his cute children.
These new rat pups, though—their teeth and claws were sharp.
Swish.
Having made up his mind, the old man carefully set down the flask.
After eons lost to time, his research was finally, finally bearing fruit for the first time.
With his grand ambition within reach now.
He couldn't let trash rats disrupt it.
His senses had caught three groups of rats.
One group rapidly approached his creations.
The largest mass advanced toward his works too, but tussled with his children.
The last headed for another sanctum.
"Which to deal with first...?"
The old man relished the choice.
His decision would alter the rats' fates.
Moments later, having decided, his eyes gleamed.
"First... these ones."