The Eighth Research - Basilisk (1)

Tellorian and Belkan shared their insights on Sinear’s future. Having ascended to Elder Shaman, Belkan’s visions proved astonishingly precise, though certain details diverged from the timeline Tellorian remembered from the game.

“...And with that, my prophecy ends.”

“Mine aligns with yours in nearly every respect.”

“Then we must discuss how to stop it.”

Belkan retrieved his fallen blindfold and wrapped it carefully around his eyes. The orc’s physical sight was gone, yet in its place he could now perceive souls and the threads of the future.

“But before that.”

Belkan looked directly at him.

“We should settle the debt. You awakened me and saved my people. What do you desire from us?”

That’s right. Accounts ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠must be settled cleanly.

“Please grant me the Basilisk Tablet.”

“You want full ownership?”

“I do.”

“....”

Belkan’s face clouded with difficulty. The Basilisk Tablet was a sacred relic used to master the Lore of Beasts, an invaluable tool for training new shamans.

“That is no mere artifact. It is a holy object.”

“I am well aware. That is precisely why I ask for it.”

“Hmm.”

Belkan interlaced his fingers. The basilisk was the divine beast that ruled the Great Wasteland and had maintained a long, intertwined history with the desert orcs.

Yet the relationship had never been equal.

Sometimes, lives had to be offered.

“You are now the Shaman King, the envoy of the Elemental Lords. There is no longer any need to sacrifice people to the basilisk, is there?”

The tablet recorded an ancient pact. The desert orcs would periodically offer living sacrifices, and the basilisk would grant them oases in return.

“Can you tell me what you intend to use it for? As you know, a contract with a divine beast is not something to be discarded lightly.”

Even so, if it was truly necessary, Belkan would hand it over. The man before him had saved the entire race from annihilation.

“If I read the Basilisk Tablet,” Tellorian answered calmly, “I will obtain the Lore of Beasts, correct?”

“You will.”

“Then I will be able to tame rare beasts. It happens I am in need of a familiar.”

A familiar was a beast spiritually linked to a mage’s mind. Most mages chose crows or cats, using them as pets or assistants.

“In that case, shall I give you our finest wolf?”

“I appreciate the offer, but I will only accept your goodwill.”

“If you prefer flying creatures, we have wyverns and manticores. Or if subterranean beasts suit your taste...”

Belkan began recommending various creatures.

“Your kindness is appreciated, but it is unnecessary.”

Tellorian shook his head.

“The tablet alone will suffice.”

“What does the tablet have to do with a familiar?”

“When taming a beast as a familiar, one needs a catalyst tied to its fundamental essence, does one not?”

That was true. But what could the Basilisk Tablet possibly—

“Wait. You... surely you don’t mean—”

“That is exactly what I mean.”

“Have you lost your mind?”

“I am perfectly sane.”

“....”

Belkan realized the truth.

The man before him was utterly insane.

The wise Belkan swiftly abandoned any attempt to persuade the mad mage and instead proposed thorough preparations. After all, the basilisk was an extraordinarily powerful being.

“Very well.”

Thanks to Belkan’s cooperation, Tellorian devoured every tablet permitted solely to the orc shamans. He deciphered the Basilisk Tablet in particular, mastering magic that allowed communication with beasts, and received the complete oral traditions of the Great Wasteland’s ecosystem and legends from Belkan himself.

“There is one more thing I would like your help with.”

“I will assist you with anything in my power.”

With a flourish, Tellorian swung his staff through the empty air.

Four orbs materialized and began orbiting Tellorian. Each contained the essence of fire, cold, air, or earth.

“As the Shaman King and envoy of the Elemental Lords, you have attained mastery over the four primary elements. Therefore, Lore Master Tellorian respectfully requests your guidance.”

He needed to level up. Taming a divine beast would require every ounce of power he could muster.

“Teach me.”

A pillar of flame erupted beneath Belkan’s feet—Tellorian’s own spell, hot enough to melt the hardest bedrock in an instant.

“Not like that, young one.”

Yet Belkan, now clad in armor of pure cold, walked out completely unscathed. He had, after all, changed class to Elder Shaman and become the direct agent of the Elemental Lords.

“True flame manipulation looks like this.”

Belkan slammed his blazing warhammer into the ground. Lava surged upward beneath Tellorian’s feet like an ancient volcano awakening.

“!”

With the agility of a swallow (Agility 20), Tellorian leapt into the air and used double casting to chant at twice normal speed.

He reappeared dozens of meters away on open ground just before the lava could swallow him.

....

While maintaining distance, he observed Belkan’s shamanic arts. Shamanism borrowed power from elemental spirits, while magic twisted the world through mana. At first glance they seemed like entirely different forces.

But that is only true for ordinary classes.

Both Lore Master and Elder Shaman were Grand Classes—advanced evolutions reached after two class changes. They represented the ultimate mastery of magic and shamanism respectively.

Therefore, all streams ultimately return to the sea.

The martial artists’ proverb held true here as well. At their core, both arts manipulated mystery through extraordinary power.

“I see. So that is how it is done.”

Thanks to the demonstration, he now understood how to handle true flame magic.

He recalled the heat of the flames Belkan had summoned. It had been so intense that merely brushing past had scorched the hem of his robe.

That was primordial lava.

He pictured the primitive Sinear, a world where no living thing could survive. In the planet’s earliest days—when even the primordial dragons that roamed the cosmos could not settle due to the heat—violent tectonic shifts must have allowed the core’s molten fury to burst forth.

He could not imagine it. He could not visualize it clearly.

This is knowledge I lack.

A spell’s power could never exceed its caster’s experience and understanding. That was why new experiences were always vital for mages.

I have never seen a primordial planet.

Belkan, however, had witnessed those ancient times upon being named the Elemental Lords’ envoy. He had seen the world when dust and rock first coalesced, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠when the raging core spewed endless fire.

What about me?

He knew nothing of primordial flames or the core’s heat.

But I do know mushroom clouds.

That was a flame of destruction so bright it could blind anyone who looked directly at it. A power capable of reducing forests of steel and concrete to ash.

Yet Sinear’s matter is composed of the four elements rather than atoms. Therefore I must envision a flame that does not rely on nuclear fission.

Next he recalled the blast furnaces of steel mills.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Still not enough.

Hotter than a forge, certainly, but nowhere near the heat of a planetary core.

Think.

He dredged up every memory from both his past and present life, searching for the ultimate flame. His master’s fire that had once burned his palm? Too lukewarm.

...Found it.

In his previous life, he had seen it.

This will work.

He had witnessed a propulsion system powerful enough to hurl a mass heavier than a castle toward distant stars. He remembered. The driving force had been thermal energy.

It can be reproduced in Sinear.

The fuel for launch vehicles had been liquid oxygen—a substance that normally required cutting-edge cryogenic facilities. Not something an individual could create.

But I am a mage.

He radiated his will, drawing scattered mana from the atmosphere. Using the Lore of Wind he gathered pure air into his right hand, then invoked the Lore of Cold to freeze it to its absolute limit.

“Original spell.”

The air in his palm froze, forming blue crystals—the rare material Sinear’s mages called the Essence of Cold.

“Starlight Fire!”

He realized that his past and present lives were not separate. Having broken through the limits of his perception, Tellorian now faced the true essence of flame.

For a brief moment, even Belkan felt fear at the violet flame Tellorian had created. It was an artificial fire that could never arise in nature.

“I did it!”

But he was still far from finished.

“Earth, protect me.”

“Wind, summon lightning!”

Thunder roared. A massive bolt struck Belkan’s warhammer, infusing it with electricity. At the same time, his body hardened like granite.

When Belkan brought his hammer down, the earth split apart and a crimson tidal wave of lava surged upward. Lightning poured from the swirling black clouds while sudden gales formed a howling vortex.

“!”

Tellorian felt the overwhelming wrath of nature itself. The colossal power Belkan unleashed was no mere shamanic art—it was an authority granted by the Elemental Lords.

I felt fear?

Even when facing Lucifeles, he had only felt curiosity.

Is this the wall?

He was not facing an Elemental Lord itself, only its代理. If he still felt overwhelmed, then the gap between mortal and immortal was truly absolute.

The Elemental Lords were the weakest among the supreme sovereigns. They had even been tricked by the Mother of Demons who ruled the Abyss and trapped within a scheme.

It was frightening.

Yet somehow, it was also fun.

And fascinating!

This was the rotten player’s satisfaction at knowing there was still plenty of content left, combined with a mage’s arrogance that yearned to challenge the divine.

“I will use my full strength as well!”

“Come, mage!”

Pouring out his mana, Tellorian chanted.

A thick, transparent barrier enveloped ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠him as he poured every drop of remaining mana into defense.

“Behold the wrath of the spirits!”

Surging lava. Crashing lightning. Howling vortex.

Against them, the violet fireball traced a parabola through the air, mercilessly tearing apart the whirlwind as it charged straight at Belkan.

“!”

Belkan swung his warhammer again, raising a thick wall of ice. His plan was to suppress the orb’s heat and detonate it prematurely. However—

Boom!

The flame that reached for the stars pierced through all adversity.

“?!”

An all-consuming heat approached.

“Spirits! Protect m——!”

A deafening roar shook the air. Violet flames spread outward, melting everything they touched.

....

When the smoke finally cleared, a half-melted Belkan stood revealed. Had he not transformed his entire body into granite, he would have died instantly.

“Ugh...”

Belkan groaned and looked at Tellorian, expecting the mage to be in similar condition.

....

Yet the Grey Sage stood completely unharmed. Only his Mana Shield had been broken.

“What are you?”

Belkan’s voice trembled with shock.

“Just what is your true identity?”

“Even I do not know the answer to that.”

Tellorian himself was curious. What strange twist of fate had caused him to reincarnate into the very character he had created for the game? How had a modern gamer’s memories fused with a Lore Master in the first place?

“So I suppose I must find out.”

“...I definitely foresaw a future in which you grew strong enough to rival the kings of Hell.”

Belkan’s burns healed rapidly under the power of a restoration totem. The charred orc slowly regained his vitality.

“But that was a distant future. I never imagined you could already stand toe-to-toe with an Elemental Lord’s envoy.”

The purpose of this fight had been a teaching spar, a lesson in elemental manipulation. It was never supposed to become a life-or-death battle that shattered the landscape.

“It is fortunate I am an old shaman. Had I been a young warrior or a fellow mage, I could never have accepted this. It feels as though my entire life has been invalidated.”

In truth, Belkan felt deep jealousy and resentment. Only his shamanic training, which had reached the realm of foresight, allowed him to control those emotions.

“If we are judging victory and defeat, you won,” Tellorian said.

“I won?”

“You can still move, can you not?”

Belkan nodded.

“I cannot.”

With a thud, Tellorian collapsed where he stood.

“I have no mana or stamina left. If this had been a real battle, I would have lost the moment it came to melee.”

Belkan chuckled.

He even considers an old man’s feelings. Truly a friend after my own heart.

“There is no need for such words. If we were truly fated to fight to the death, I would never have helped you reach Elder Shaman.”

At that, Tellorian smiled pleasantly.

“Originally, that was exactly our relationship.”

“Is that so?”

“Fate has changed.”

In the original timeline, Chieftain Belkan could never have walked alongside the human protagonist. Their fundamental positions were too different; no matter the route, they would eventually clash.

But the Belkan of this worldline had changed.

He had followed Tellorian’s advice completely.

“That achievement belongs entirely to you, Belkan.”

“....”

“I have given advice to hundreds of people, yet you are the only one who has taken it all to heart and made it truly your own.”

Thanks to him, Tellorian had grown stronger as well.

They took a long rest. Together they roasted the desert birds Belkan had caught, shared stories of their lives, and exchanged further insights about the future.

“Shall we go, then?”

“Where?”

“To my original objective.”

He had grown strong enough.

“It is time to obtain a familiar.”

Strong enough to tame a divine beast.