Chapter 116
Chapter 116
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 116
Chapter Title: Pearl of the Wilderness, Ptahah (1)
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*
Ptahah. One of the ancient cities from the Upper Asit era, home to the pyramid of Tutan Gartep. It is one of the three ghost cities that appeared in the Great Wasteland following the beacon fire incident of the Three Dynasties, and also emerged near the fiercest battlegrounds between the Sultanate and the Empire.
Fernandez fell deep into thought as he gazed upon this massive tomb city. It was a splendid city that seemed to perfectly recreate the cultural relics of the Upper Asit period.
Sand-colored great walls and enormous structures, adorned with bricks and tents in primary colors like blue, yellow, and green—it was a prosperous city.
-Clop. Clop.
Seated atop a camel's hump, Fernandez moved along leisurely. There were many others around him doing the same. They were people here for tourism or exile.
Even as a ghost city, the pharaohs of the Three Dynasties were generous rulers toward the living in the material world. To be precise, they themselves acted just like living beings.
They wore splendid clothes, chewed on food, let liquor dribble down below their jawbones as they laughed and chattered. They slept and ate, even though they had no need to. As if reenacting the days when they were alive.
It was their own survival strategy. The human mind is not as flexible as one might think. A body that suddenly changes inevitably affects the mind and soul. All the biological response mechanisms and physiological urges included forge the soul almost anew.
Thus, humans who become undead inevitably harbor madness. Yet these corpses of the proud ghost kingdom chose to act like the living as a way to preserve their souls intact.
A most elegant and antique masquerade. Fernandez smirked as he looked at the gate guards.
They were treating the humans passing through the gate and the skeletons as if they were all living residents, collecting taxes from them.
-Clack, clack.
[Stop.]
A guard in splendid armor looked up at Fernandez, his eye sockets gleaming. The creature snapped its jaw once and spoke threateningly.
[State your purpose and identity.]
"Albert. Naturalization. From the Empire."
[Oh. Lots of country bumpkins from that country lately. Haha. Serving better lords is in our blood, isn't it? Head to Garam Street.]
The guard said this while thrusting forward its parched bony hand. A blatant demand for a bribe. Fernandez smirked at the sight, which resembled a moderately corrupt official.
-Clatter.
Fernandez pulled out an old Asit coin and placed it in the guard's hand. The guard glanced around, pretending to check, then raised its voice nonchalantly.
[Pass. Next!]
*
The cityscape was bizarre. Fernandez saw skeletons, mercenaries grinning and chatting amiably with them, and mummy merchants haggling prices. It was a land where the boundary between the living and the dead had crumbled.
-Interesting.
'Isn't it? What a fascinating deception. They all treat this city like a ballroom.'
It was no different from a masquerade that artfully ignored reality. The living treated the dead as if they were alive to survive, and the dead treated the living and themselves as the same, pretending they were alive.
Fernandez nodded back to a child skeleton that bowed to him and urged his camel onward.
-Splash.
Clear waterways divided the city's districts as they flowed. A structure possible only because the dead produced no sewage. In the clear water of the canals, child skeletons frolicked, and women wove cloth.
He strolled along the well-paved roads and entered an alley. Paris District. The city's pleasure quarter.
Fernandez's keen sense of smell picked up the acrid stench of narcotics from the street's entrance. He could see living vagrants scattered everywhere, and skeleton pickpockets rifling through their pockets.
Skeleton cats prowled with gleaming eyes, and vagrants with faces yellowed from drugs let out eerie groans.
The proud ghost nobles never set foot in this street. Fernandez slowly dismounted his camel. He slung his light pack over his shoulder and pulled his cloak tight.
-Split Hoof Inn... Ah, there it is.
Among shops inscribed with Upper Asit script, the sign in Kirzhat script stood out starkly.
'How did they manage to open a shop in just one month? In this ghost city?'
-It means they're capable.
'I like that.'
Ignoring the dazed stares of the drug addicts, he slowly entered the inn's entrance.
-Creeeak.
"Welcome... sho?"
The inn's first floor consisted of a tavern and a drug den. In one corner of the sparsely populated inn, an old man puffing on a hookah wore a dumb expression and cackled.
The inn's interior was dreamily lit by lamps fitted with purple glass beads. Fernandez approached the bartender, who eyed him warily.
-Thud.
He sat at the bar table. He looked up at the bartender, who managed a forced smile.
"What's wrong? No liquor?"
"We have it. Just thought you'd come at night. Figured you'd scout the city first."
"Scouting and planning were supposed to be your job."
"Damn it. A stranger heading straight to the drug den in broad daylight? Anyone would get suspicious."
The bartender grumbled as he picked up a liquor bottle. He handed Fernandez a glass and poured in a yellow liquid.
"You're here, so wet your throat."
"Where's the manager?"
"Probably in a meeting right now. Ah, hold on."
-Jingle.
A faint bell rang from deep within the inn. Fernandez's sharp hearing pinpointed it to the second floor.
"He says to come up."
"Good."
It meant they had known of his arrival from the moment he entered. Fernandez downed the liquor in the glass in one gulp and stood. The bitter aroma of alcohol trickled stickily down his throat.
"Second floor, the room at the very end."
"Got it."
No matter how faint, in a building this quiet, he could pinpoint the direction and location. The enhanced body of a Religiosa Demonica, infused with divine power, surpassed human perception in functionality.
*
"Oh, come in, come in."
Before Fernandez could even knock, the door opened, revealing a masked man. His eyes sparkled with energy.
Behind him, the room's interior was visible. Thick blackout curtains shrouded the space, lit only by a small oil lamp. An ashtray littered with burned tobacco leaves, numerous notes, and a massive map filled the area.
"The other agents aren't here yet. You're earlier than expected. Care to rest your eyes a bit?"
"No need yet."
"Of course not."
The man chuckled and offered him a seat. Fernandez leaned back in a wooden chair covered with worn cloth. The man sat across from him, roughly cleared the table, and set a teacup on a notebook.
"Truly glad to see you. Sir Albert. Or... should I say Baron Cerned?"
"You seem quite interested in me."
"You're the hot topic in our intelligence bureau. I was thrilled when we got word. And raising a toast to the news of you destroying this damned ruin? The great knight Albert won't fail. For us, it's just a feast rolling in while we watch!"
The man spoke in a mocking tone with a smirk. When Fernandez's expression didn't change, the man tapped the desk twice.
"Do you take us for mere servants?"
"You're good trading partners."
"For partners, you've been using us without offering much in return."
"Then why are you following my orders and getting things done?"
If there was nothing to gain, they'd just ignore him, right? At Fernandez's question, the man slowly stroked his teacup.
"Being connected to you makes things convenient in many ways. Our intel isn't very effective against the Eastern Kingdoms Alliance."
"I see. How much have you dug up?"
"Mosart, Altbert, Infermur, Cerned. And Inquisition Keep."
"...Hm."
More thorough than expected. As Fernandez paused, the man said smugly.
"We've secured as much of your movements as possible from our homeland's perspective. Ah, but our analysts still have one unsolved mystery. Can you answer it?"
Hearing it from you directly is most reliable. The man slowly bowed his head and spoke quietly, as if afraid of being overheard. Like a heretic committing blasphemy.
"Are you human, sir?"
"Fortunately, I still seem to be."
"Then... We've assessed Baron Cerned's age as 17. Is that accurate?"
"A bit older than I look. I hope your curiosity hasn't kept you from handling your duties properly."
"Haha. No worries there. I've got your personality pegged. Right. Shall we get to business?"
The man unfurled a folded map from one corner of the desk. It was an operational map detailing the entire city. Exceptionally high-level tactical intelligence.
Just one month. Since the city appeared. Even starting a spy network right after, it was woefully short time.
Yet the preparations were more thorough and seamless than expected. Fernandez revised his valuation of them upward and took a sip of tea.
"Not worried about poison at all?"
"Not a body poison works on. And what would you gain from poisoning me?"
"Quite the confidence."
The man chuckled.
"We've carried out what Baron Cerned relayed perfectly. The city's ruling class is terrified by the rumors about you. Fear of the mysterious wandering mage Feizashi Wildcast."
"And?"
He had ordered three things. First, spread exaggerated rumors about him throughout the city.
"Ah, we've made sufficient contact with Prince Neferka too. He seems confident we can proceed with the grand affair anytime you give the signal. Honestly, I don't like that ghost much."
"And?"
Second, make connections with Neferka's faction. So that when Fernandez arrived to prepare the affair, they could cooperate organically.
Neferka was currently at the palace, fully prepared.
"Want to meet him soon? He's preparing a banquet."
"A defeated general who couldn't even beat one beastkin hosting a banquet?"
"That's politics, isn't it? After the last defeat, Prince Neferka's position in the palace has narrowed greatly. Time for him to show his rivals he's still going strong."
"Ah," the man lowered his voice. He knew exactly what info Fernandez wanted most but was deliberately dragging it out.
He tapped one corner of the map. Garam District. A residential area for wealthy commoners and low nobles. A clean street quite a distance from Paris District.
"She's still in the city. Here, hiding among some pretty decent guard forces."
At those words, Fernandez's eyes blazed blue. The man cackled at the sight.
"Our Kirzhat shakshi find it very, very amusing too. The sight of the Ironside traitor getting torn apart! Truth be told, that's why I decided to help you, sir. That bitch has been too rampant."
The man extended his hand for a shake. As Fernandez slowly grasped it, the man smiled beneath his mask.
"What should we call you for this operation? Round Table Knight Albert? Baron Cerned? Or wandering mage Feizashi?"
"No. Not this time."
Fernandez gripped the man's hand tightly and said slowly, deliberately.
"Inquisitor Angelo."
Angela. What that bitch needed wasn't judgment or revenge or a curse.
It was a heresy trial.