DXCVI (6) – Harvest from the Trembling Giant
I spent exactly three days and nights in the Giant's domain before emerging.
"How was it, hyungnim? Get a good haul?"
Kyung-tae's question came as he lounged in our safehouse, handling rear-guard security. His face was lit with pure curiosity.
I set down my coffee cup and nodded. I'd gained far more than expected. The spoils like prayer beads and compasses were nice enough, but Grace-596's notes made it easy to analyze the new magics blooming in the Giant. Just figuring out how to extend its water-based binding spells to other substances was reward enough.
The Trembling Giant had demonstrated no fewer than thirteen unfamiliar binding forces right before my eyes. Macro elements like nitrogen, phosphorus, potassium, magnesium, sulfur, and calcium. Trace elements like iron, boron, manganese, copper, nickel, and molybdenum. Even carbon dispersed in the atmosphere.
The distinction between macro and trace came down to how much plants needed them.
Kyung-tae, who'd heard the rundown, couldn't hide his awe.
"Whoa. Straight-up usable code, right?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Efficiency's too low."
"Aw, man, and it sounded so promising."
Even calling them macro elements, the forest's objective needs weren't that massive in absolute terms. Laughably tiny compared to water. The Giant had just slapped on 'plugin' codes to its existing incantations, tuned to whatever efficiency the plants required. Breaking down and refining those bundled bindings into something cohesive? That was my job, parched as I was for it.
"What about spatial refraction, hyungnim? You were hyped for that one."
I frowned quietly at Kyung-tae's follow-up.
"...Not a spell for humans."
Spatial refraction—the one thing I'd been most curious about on this trip—was wisdom too flawed for human hands yet. The incantation was so sloppy it wasted over 90 percent of the mana, brute-forced only by raw power. And the minimum mana threshold to even activate it was absurdly high. Even I, a Grand Magus, wouldn't dare try.
Prospects weren't bright. The Giant wouldn't refine magic to human standards. With enough research, I might assimilate it someday. But from a focus-and-prioritize standpoint? Worthless.
Kyung-tae scratched his head.
"Makes you think... the wisdom hoarded by that light and truth Round Table feels kinda pathetic, y'know?"
"Pathetic?"
"Whoa, not dissing you or anything, hyungnim... Just, what makes their fancy Golden Age wisdom so superior to the magic these massive natural things churn out? Practical spells aren't even that numerous."
"Of course."
"Huh?"
"You think what seems practical now was practical back then?"
"...Oh, shit."
He grinned sheepishly, realizing his shortsightedness.
In the era of extreme mana scarcity, most physically manifesting magics were parlor tricks with zero utility. Telekinesis? Mysterious phenomenon, sure. High-class interference with physical laws of the universe. But by mana-depletion standards, not worth grinding down human souls for.
Ignition or pyrokinesis? Same story. Even the prideful Round Table Grand Magi couldn't deny it. Telekinesis or fire-starting saw symbolic use in rare rituals, nothing more. They'd once held value as scientific research subjects, but no results despite endless manpower and funds. Projects fizzled into obscurity.
Money aside, sustaining ops that devoured live sacrifices like an abyss? The UK government must've agonized.
So the old Round Table chased era-appropriate practical truths: life magic for physical immortality, and mind/soul-altering mysteries. Otherwise, scattered pet projects per magus's whims.
Managing those Grand Magi alone must've been hell for the government. Each one a once-in-an-age serial killer.
My mentor Crowhurst had personally slain humans by the ten-thousands. And that didn't even count sacrifices lost to oblivion.
And he was always dissatisfied.
Complaining the government—ignorant of true value—skimped on 'research consumables' and increasingly tried to rein in the mages' ambitions.
Now, chasing new-era practicality, their hunger for the Eyes would dwarf the past. That's why Westbutton's puppetmaster pitch to lure me back held zero credibility. Whether I was Crowhurst or not, returning meant instant eye-gouging—or ceding initiative on Essence fragments and truths.
Those ancient monsters wouldn't settle for that. No guarantee I'd share visible leads openly.
I sipped coffee, reviewing reports from my absence. No emergencies. I'd known that before leaving the forest—our org's Cube sats would beam alerts if shit hit the fan.
Still, eyes on the reports, I asked Kyung-tae, "Anything nagging while I was gone? Bad vibes from someone?"
I trusted his animal instincts.
"Eh, not really?" He scratched his head again. "Plenty of low-rent types, but no one giving off real menace or threat to you, hyungnim."
"Got it."
After a moment's thought, I summarized Grace-596 for him.
"Whoa, damn."
Now grasping my angle, he stroked his chin seriously.
"Any leads worth chasing?"
"See for yourself."
I pulled up my phone gallery and handed it over. He pored over the evidence shots with laser focus: weapons, gear, uniforms, supplies from Grace-596's pursuers. Plenty to ID their gang.
If I were their commander, I'd infiltrate hounds into the forest and ring the perimeter outside. No way to assume cornered prey wouldn't bolt the white magic realm.
"Hmm..." Kyung-tae groaned, shaking his head. "No matches in my patrol zone. I'll loop in the kids, but don't hold your breath."
"Search till noon tomorrow. Then pull out."
"You sure?"
"Anything more's a waste."
I hadn't banked on much anyway, even without his input. Same faction or not, sub-units vary supplies endlessly. No reason for Round Table or devil-worshipper cults to standardize logistics.
Better for deceiving prey, too. Uniform gear? Escaped quarry spots hunters from afar.
I was just betting on slim odds. Gotta check, right? Noon tomorrow balanced opportunity costs: gains from chasing trackers/Grace leads vs. redirecting resources elsewhere. Plus, risk of poking Round Table or cult nerves.
Allying with Grace is just one option on the table.
No reason she wouldn't covet the Golden Age's Eyes. Her Round Table grudge and mage ambitions were separate. Teaming up eases London siege, sure—but I'd be paranoid-watching her every twitch.
Cooperation or not, intel on O7A forces? Smart to gather what we can. Avoid turning prey unprepared.
Kyung-tae, mulling, piped up. "Oh yeah, spotted some Korean hunters outside."
"Koreans?"
"Yeah. Gov's international co-op gig or whatever. Allied requests get approved for public quest points. Forex farming, they say."
"They pitch us?"
"Nah. Probably hoarding aces. Wait for value spike or spin domestic. Pre-official hunter exam timing gives 'em prep excuses. Internal criteria bullshit."
"Anyway?"
"Blends us in better. Place was already a mutt circus."
"...Pointless."
Surveillance net sans me? Doable. But parking high-end talent here full-time for crises? Opportunity costs balloon.
Half-assed web? Risk tail-chasing back to us.
Stick to plan: 'innocent' locals like Pioneer Hunters for low-profile intel. Suyeon's secretariat handles fine.
At least less hassle patrolling now.
I'd planned a walkthrough post-reports anyway. Kids might miss spots; cults overflow with satanists and devil preachers.
Flipping e-docs, I noted the Pashtun grand council Loya Jirga winding down. Called late February, over a month in, nearing close.
If true, worst-case averted. For me, and the Black Sea Party grinding Maoist guerrilla.
Pakistan reports credited Abu Al Qasim's 'courtesy' for insider access. Translation: not gospel. Can't cross-verify outsiders? Sus first.
Report end: Abu Al Qasim wanted near-term chat. My views, vision, plans on anti-China jihad. Plenty session left—take time.
'Slowly' again.
"Allah loves those who take their time." His reply when I pushed fast via underlings.
Understandable post-business stumble—ultra-caution. But irks me. I won't squander a day on Round Table imperialists.
Digested three days' reports, I toured the chaotic magic realm outskirts with Kyung-tae. No hits.
Koreans? Dime a dozen, as he said. Global draw to world's biggest natural Awakened.
Among them, a clown trio with cameras, hamming it up.
I watched like zoo monkeys.
"Hey everyone! Hunter Trio dreaming of Korea's top spot! From Hunter Crew 'Lynx'—PakSuk!"
"PokSuk!"
"And Chwi! Greetings!"
"As teased last vid, we're at the poplar forest—the Trembling Giant itself, magic realm of realms. That waterfall-mist behind us? Boundary to the Giant's turf—"
Watching their innocent grind stirred odd feelings. Same soil, yet their sunlit world cleaved sharp from my shadows.
Magic's return naturally bridged light and dark.
Kyung-tae followed my gaze, tilting his head. "Something special about those guys?"
"Nah. Nothing."
I dismissed the daylight livers.