Chapter 96
Chapter 96
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 96
Chapter Title: The Asbestos King's Proposal
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-Isn't it still worth putting up a fight?
'......'
-We could burn any arrows flying our way.
Mazdari found the nagging voice of the demonic spirit "Rotten Hand" surprisingly convincing.
But he couldn't slaughter every soldier lined up along the riverbank, nor could he shake them off.
'It'd just be pointless lashing out.'
Moreover, Mazdari's eyes drifted to the troll knight perched atop an ornately caparisoned elk in the rear.
The armor emphasized practicality, complete with a helmet that shrouded his face.
But the crest emblazoned on the teardrop-shaped shield dangling from the elk's flank rang a bell.
'If it's the sigil I think it is, surrender might be the smart play.'
Mazdari raised both hands and dropped to his knees.
"I surrender."
Mazdari unbuckled his belt and slowly set down the satchel slung at his side.
One soldier approached his feet, scooping up the belt—with its attached potion vials and sword—along with the bag.
Mazdari watched impassively before lifting his head.
"But even without those, I'm a dangerous man. You sure about this?"
At his words, the elk knight Mazdari had been eyeing urged his mount forward at a leisurely pace.
A deep, resonant voice issued from the knight's helm.
"No one's safer than those who openly admit their own danger."
"Think it's just bravado? I could roast you where you stand."
The knight dismounted and advanced without a word.
A retainer-like figure shouted at him.
"M-My lord, don't get too close! He's dangerous!"
But the knight pressed on undeterred.
He removed his helmet.
No race's standards of beauty would deem a troll's face handsome. Yet it was the sort of visage that instilled dread in any onlooker.
Mazdari managed to keep his expression steady even then.
'Only a brave Garuda or a Black Forest Lizardman warrior might hold their ground.'
The troll spoke.
"I am Dermaldin the Younger, King of Asbestos, watched over by Sokseon. Alchemists always itch to rival the gods, so this is your chance to test whether your flames consume me first—or if divine retribution claims you sooner."
This time, even Mazdari's beak parted in shock.
'I figured him for royalty at most. Dermaldin the Younger himself...'
-Hmph. King or not, I'm looking forward to that showdown he mentioned. What do you say—up for it?
'Idiot. Before my flames even touch Dermaldin, my body's getting shredded into dozens of pieces.'
Sokseon—the god of asbestos once called the Entwining Divinity—took pleasure in meting out divine punishments, tales abounding of sinners torn asunder. Corpses discovered in such states cropped up from time to time.
Investigations often revealed those victims as genuine villains, fueling asbestos worship's evolution into a doctrine of rule by law and harsh penalties.
Of course, drawing the gaze of such a god was one thing; mustering the courage to approach a cursed arsonist willing to immolate a man on a whim was another.
Unless one's faith bordered on madness—and to Mazdari's eye, Dermaldin the Younger's gaze and demeanor bespoke cool intellect.
'Worthy of the title Troll Great Chieftain, Northern Archduke, and King of Asbestos.'
-Not the time for admiration, I think.
Reluctant as he was, Mazdari conceded the point to Rotten Hand.
Mazdari spoke.
"We'll save the test for later."
"Wise choice, Garuda alchemist."
"But I don't get it. Why go to these lengths for a mere alchemist? For a king of a nation to step in personally? You've left the Alchemist's Tower alone all this time."
Dermaldin replied.
"We know alchemists wish their knowledge seemed useless to the outside world. But you know better than anyone how valuable it truly is."
"...Hmph."
"We left your tower untouched not because you're worthless, but because we didn't want to hinder you. Just because people hate heretics doesn't mean they'll shun the useful things heretics create."
Mazdari said,
"You're talking about gunpowder."
"......"
"I can hand over the formula anytime. It's a brand-new discovery—given resources, it could be refined far better. Whatever you use it for."
Dermaldin shook his head.
"Not gunpowder."
"It's not?"
"You wouldn't know, but we already had an alchemist in our pocket. We have the formula. More than that, even."
Mazdari had suspected as much.
The Alchemist's Tower fell to the Asbestos knights mainly due to a drawbridge lowered at dawn, enabling their sneak attack.
There had to be a traitor inside, but in the frantic escape from the knights, no alchemist had time to hunt them down.
"Then what do you want? Just to hunt down heretics? Because your god demands it?"
"No."
Dermaldin said,
"I want magic."
Mazdari was baffled.
Magic was knowledge reserved for high-ranking alchemists.
"Magic isn't something you get just by wanting it."
"I don't need it myself. Nor do I care exactly what it is."
"Then?"
"I just need its power. Our insider hinted it's a force that imposes order on the world, like a god. The captured alchemists said the same."
"Superstition. Ancient myths."
"Don't you alchemists believe those ancient tales?"
Mazdari clacked his beak with a sharp clack.
"You want a mage? One who bends to your will?"
Dermaldin wore the ghost of a smile.
"Garuda instincts? You catch on quick. The others didn't."
"...What happened to the other alchemists?"
"They were frail. Dropped dead after a few words."
Mazdari felt an urge to rise and throttle Dermaldin.
The captured alchemists had endured the infamous troll tortures.
Within the tower, alchemists competed by school, hoarding precious knowledge like magic.
But brute force to seize it? Never.
That was the rule.
Now an outsider had shattered them all.
Dermaldin continued.
"But luckily, they let slip who might make a proper mage. The finest alchemist by far: Mazdari."
"You want me to become a mage?"
"I'll give you all the knowledge we've gathered from the others."
"And then?"
"As a mage, you'll wield that power to spread Asbestos's glory far and wide."
"......"
Becoming a mage was undeniably tempting.
Even without Dermaldin's offer, Mazdari had planned to track down scattered alchemists across the continent and piece it together—if he escaped alive.
-Even if it meant strong-arming them. Heh.
The tower was rubble; its rules along with it.
Mazdari already believed his knowledge neared magehood.
Just a few pieces short.
That aching gap made him desperate.
But what gave him pause wasn't his alchemist pride—it was the long-forgotten truth of his Garuda blood.
Dermaldin said,
"Of course, you'll be treated accordingly. Come to think of it, your Garuda kin aided us trolls greatly when we founded our kingdom. Isn't this your chance to reclaim that honor?"
To Mazdari, raised outside his village as a cursed outcast, it shouldn't have mattered. Yet the words grated oddly.
"Can I have time to think?"
"You think this is a proposal? That you have options?"
"Choosing death is still my choice."
Dermaldin, who had seemed angered, turned impassive.
"Fine. But I can't give you long. Another mage candidate just slipped our borders."
Mazdari was bound and thrown into the castle's underground dungeon.
'Which alchemist could pierce that encirclement? Yan? Talley? Or maybe Hui, Ravi, or Muel?'
-Curious? Call the guard and say you'll become a mage. Swear loyalty to His Majesty Dermaldin.
Mazdari clacked his beak at the chatter from his left hand.
A passing guard glanced through the iron door and moved on.
-Or hunt for an escape? The window's... a bit narrow?
Mazdari glanced up.
The stubby slit high in the ceiling seemed good only for marking day from night. Even a child might struggle to squeeze through.
-Or we could melt that iron door.
'Sokseon might be watching us.'
-Then pick something already. I'm bored.
Mazdari wryly wondered why he'd been born with this damned thing attached. A thought since his head had thickened.
'Sorry, Rotten Hand. I don't even know why I'm hesitating.'
-What? Going stir-crazy in this hole?
'I thought I'd do anything to become a mage...'
-Ah, there.
'Can't you shut up for a bit? I'm thinking seriously here.'
-Fool, look at the window.
Mazdari looked up again.
Something was there.
At first, shadows hid it; he assumed a head peering in.
But no.
"A locust...?"
If that was a locust's face, its body was no small fry.
As Mazdari reeled, the locust spoke.
"Talking like this feels off. I'll come inside."
It withdrew from the window—then a running leap echoed, and the next instant, it was inside the cell.
Mazdari reflexively raised his left hand.
"Fear not. I am a messenger of the gods."
Mazdari lowered his hand and eyed the locust carefully.
Clad in rags, it stood bipedal.
But the insectoid musculature peeking through screamed bug.
Mazdari said,
"A messenger of the gods?"
Teleportation.
No locust could leap through a window that size without physics breaking.
Barring magic, only a miracle.
"Indeed. I am Honggo, one of Yacheon's creations."
"Yacheon? The god of the Black Forest Lizardmen?"
"Yes."
"Why would Yacheon...?"
"He watches everywhere."
Alchemists were heretics, free to probe the divine openly.
Unlike most gods confined to their domains, Yacheon's seemed vast.
His power was mostly rumor, but known feats included his first apostle Rakrak, the monster Slatis embodying his might, and Honggo lord of locust swarms and desolation.
"Sokseon used Dermaldin to reach me, yet Yacheon sends his guardian. This isn't his domain—aren't you afraid?"
"In this moment, Sokseon isn't watching."
"Just you?"
"Doubt me? I am certain. Yacheon said so."
It had to be.
This was the moment Seong-un had summoned players from the Third Continent via emergency call.
Seong-un couldn't pass up the window when all eyes lifted from the continent.
Mazdari asked,
"What message does the messenger bring?"
"Yacheon's prophecy."
Mazdari perked up.
"Speak it."
"Thus speaks Yacheon: 'You shall become the mage of Asbestos.'"
Mazdari laughed.
"If I bust out of this dungeon now, I can shatter a god's prophecy."
"I infiltrated thanks to divine power granted me. You can't escape. Even without Sokseon's gaze. And the prophecy isn't finished."
"What's the rest?"
Honggo intoned,
"'The mage you become shall betray Asbestos.' ...That ends the prophecy."