The Milestone Pointed by the Full Moon - 6
I wanted to return the treasure Raskan had given me, but handing it back would only leave me fretting over what else I was supposed to accept as repayment.
As far as I was concerned, I would have preferred to leave it at "I helped you for free," yet the wolves insisted that a favor must always be repaid, so there was no getting around it.
In the end, Chaos claimed the wolves' adult materials. Being a fellow canine, he seemed unusually interested.
I hope this doesn't end up teaching him a bunch of completely useless knowledge.
"Human. Gift, one more, there is."
"Ugh! I don't need any more—hm?"
I had been about to refuse, having zero desire for further wolf erotica, when my gaze snagged on the water bottle Raskan held out.
It contained a colorless, odorless transparent liquid, which only sharpened my curiosity.
Whatever it was, it at least looked more useful than the spring pictures.
"And what's this supposed to be?"
"Fog, essence."
"Never heard of it. Care to explain a little more thoroughly?"
"Essence, throw. Fog, forever, appears."
"……That's all?"
"Yes."
Mildly disappointing.
For wolves blessed by Maseta, it was certainly a fine tool. Inside fog their strength would climb even higher.
But for someone like me without that blessing, fog appearing was hardly a boon. At best I might use it to cover an escape.
"Well, alright. Thanks for packing one more for me."
"Human. Essence, disappointed?"
Apparently the letdown had shown on my face.
Even if the repayment was half-hearted, I should have kept my expression polite; that was my mistake. Saying "it's fine" now would only make Raskan worry more.
Honesty seemed the better route.
"It's a little underwhelming, yeah. Unlike you lot, I can't put fog to efficient use."
"Reason, ask."
"Because without the blessing, fog is just a vision blocker—"
"Put, paralysis mushroom. Essence efficiency, maximize."
"Hold on—are you saying if I mix poison into this, the entire fog becomes toxic?"
"Correct."
Once the application method was revealed, the thing suddenly looked excellent.
In short, combining the Fog Essence with certain reagents maximized the synergy. And "forever" meant you could reduce an entire area to a poisoned wasteland.
It was a fantasy-world biochemical weapon, pure and simple.
Mix in an aphrodisiac and I could stage an orgy party, huh?
A wolfman who hands over erotica as treasure, and a contractor who immediately thinks of spiking the essence with aphrodisiacs—both of you are perverts of exactly the same caliber.
Isn't it hilarious to picture the enemy suddenly going at it right on the battlefield? That's the real "make love, not war."
Occasionally it would be nice if you discarded the vulgarity.
Aw, come on. You like the vulgar me, don't you?
I cannot deny that, but……
The conversation had wandered, yet the point remained: depending on how it was used, the Fog Essence could become a trump card capable of flipping an entire front line.
Now that I finally had a repayment that truly pleased me, the corners of my mouth twitched.
Should I use the essence against the Mage Tower? Or save it for the war with Ignite?
A happy dilemma.
"Thanks. I'll put this to good use."
"Benefactor, satisfied. Fortunate."
Raskan nodded, looking proud that he had finally delivered a proper repayment. He must have fretted quite a bit over my reactions.
I felt a twinge of guilt, but there was simply no way I could have celebrated wild-wolf erotica.
"Oh, right—there's something I've been meaning to ask."
"Anything."
"How come you never noticed the intruders entering the valley? Don't you wolves sense the moment anyone sets foot in the fog?"
"Yes. But intruders, presence, none. Possibilities three. Magic, magic tool, or stealth."
Not a magic tool. When I had thoroughly searched their belongings there had been no mana reaction at all.
Stealth was possible in theory, yet better discarded. The first guy whose neck I had ripped out simply was not skilled enough to slip the wolves' net.
That left only one method.
"Multi-teleportation magic, then."
They must have been sent after being granted powerful stealth magic. The only person capable of that was the Mage Tower Master.
Parts of it made sense; other parts still felt off.
How the hell did he know the coordinates of this place?
Judging from maps alone, the Fog Valley was enormous. Remembering that the mist had once covered even the hill where the moonlight flowers bloomed, pinpointing a spot should have been nearly impossible.
To claim he simply guessed by luck ignored the Mage Tower Master's thorough nature. That old man would never stake anything on an uncertain factor like chance.
Which meant he had known the teleportation coordinates with certainty……
"Any strange auras nearby lately? Suspicious people showing up? Anything out of the ordinary?"
"Hmm……"
Raskan stroked his chin, digging through his memories. After a long moment his eyes suddenly lit up.
"There was!"
"Tell me everything."
"Seven days ago, memory……"
The story Raskan related went like this.
As usual he had been offering prayers inside the cave. The wolves had brought a deer they had hunted and presented it as tribute to the God of Fog.
While worshipping before the altar he abruptly sensed something wrong. Leading his packmates toward the source of the strange aura, he came face-to-face with an old man.
A white-haired elder draped in a cloak embroidered all over with gold thread. He had been drawing a magic circle with his staff right in the middle of the forest.
"Swift attack, charged. But……"
An invisible wall protected the old man; the wolves could only glare at him from outside it. Faced with a being whose power they could not even gauge, they tensed, wondering what calamity he might bring—
when the old man laughed dissolutely and left them with these words:
Immediately afterward he shook his backside at the wolves once, then vanished together with the magic circle.
"Mage Tower Master, you crazy bastard."
He had personally set the teleportation coordinates and left. The reason he had not harmed a single wolf was almost certainly the god's curse. Slaughtering believers inside a deity's domain invited a thoroughly unpleasant curse. Unwilling to risk it, the Mage Tower Master had simply marked the coordinates and dumped the dirty work on someone else.
That sly-snake personality hasn't changed one bit.
I felt a little relieved. I had wondered whether my presence might have altered the Mage Tower Master, yet he was exactly the same. The damn old man who had harassed Bern over every little thing right up until the end.
I could kill him with a clear conscience now.
"Hey—can you take me to the spot where that old geezer was standing?"
"Possible. But reason, want to hear."
"He kindly left a tail behind when he left. Naturally I'm going to grab it and hang on."
The Mage Tower Master had made a critical mistake. Believing no wolf could use magic, he had personally left the coordinates. The circle itself was gone, but residual mana would still linger in the earth.
Scrape that residue together and a single opportunity would appear—the chance to teleport straight to wherever the Mage Tower Master currently was.
Are you thinking of fighting the Mage Tower Master?
Obviously I have no intention of forcing a decisive battle right this second. Still……
Trump cards had to be collected while the collecting was good.
The outline of the plan to bring down the Mage Tower was growing steadily clearer. All that remained was to rejoin the girls I had sent ahead from Lebron.
I wonder how Lin and Rene are doing, by the way?
Moonlight was already spilling across the eastern sky.
In the northeastern reaches of the kingdom lay the city of entertainment, Yuran.
Streets thick with scarlet lanterns bustled as noisily as ever. Tourists wandered about exclaiming in wonder while touts worked the crowds with tireless enthusiasm. Performances of every kind filled the plazas, and on the eastern edge of town a building tall enough to rival a castle flaunted its silhouette.
This, too, was one of the kingdom's three great pleasure cities. If Lebron was the city of gladiators, Yuran was known as the city of gambling.
"Amazing. I never knew a place like this existed."
"Certainly, if anywhere has the item Master spoke of, it would be here."
Lin and Rene had set foot in that very city.
The materials I need can only be obtained inside Yuran. So I'd like someone to go fetch them.
Both women, each craving more of Bern's affection than the other, had immediately fought for the right to go. Unable to watch any longer, Bern had simply sent them both.
That was how a dragonkin and a blind sword saint came to visit Yuran.
"He said the person who runs this entire city has the item."
"Yes. Master also told us the one in charge is a dragonkin, just like you."
"Then fellow-dragonkin camaraderie should make them hand it over the moment I ask!"
"I wonder. Unlike you, other dragonkin are said to be aggressive. They might demand a demonstration of strength before giving anything up—which would put me at the advantage, wouldn't it?"
Smiles never leaving their faces, Lin and Rene locked eyes and traded barbs. They had grown closer, yet the chill between them remained. When Bern was present they hid it; alone like this, they no longer bothered with appearances.
"You haven't forgotten the promise we made beforehand, have you?"
"Of course not."
"Then we part ways here."
"Very well. Fortune favor you."
The instant they entered the city the two turned their backs on each other and set off down separate streets.
Personalities different, methods different—yet their goal was identical.
The one who obtains the materials first gets one full week of……
With Bern-nim.
With Master.
Sex!
As the saying goes, people in love come to resemble each other. Before they knew it, both women had grown every bit as vulgar as Bern himself.