Chapter 140: The Tin Knight and the Golden Legacy
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 140: The Tin Knight and the Golden Legacy
From the puddle formed by the melting Wicked Witch of the West, Dorothea fished out a pair of navy-blue gloves.
[The ‘Tin Knight’ comments that the gloves look strangely like something a grandmother would wear!]
“…Shut up. What does their appearance matter?”
Though she said the words, Dorothea’s expression wasn’t pleased. She couldn’t help it, seeing as these were the gloves she would have to wear from now on.
It was then that the gloves began to emit a faint glow.
They seemed to gulp down Dorothea’s obsidian-like mana, and in an instant, all the grime vanished from their surface as their design and size transformed.
“Oh.”
Dorothea let out a short gasp of admiration, turning the newly pristine gloves over and over.
She already knew the eight sacred treasures had a user-customization effect, thanks to Adel’s ‘Belt of Amaryllis,’ but she had only just realized that even the basic form could change to suit the owner.
Her eyes sparkled, seemingly pleased with the new design. The moment she slipped the glove onto her right hand, her body shuddered.
Her companions, worried something was wrong, immediately went on high alert, but Dorothea waved them down as if to say she was fine.
About thirty seconds passed. Dorothea, who had been silently concentrating on something, finally spoke.
“…This is absurd. No, I get the intention, but… honestly.”
[The ‘Tin Knight’ states that speaking in cryptic riddles can cause discord among comrades!]
[The ‘Tin Knight’ requests that you share any information you’ve discovered immediately!]
“I heard you, so stop nagging! It hasn’t even been a minute, you know?”
Grumbling, Dorothea nonetheless complied with the Tin Knight’s request.
She did so in a way that proved seeing is believing.
As Dorothea stretched her hand forward, the space around it seemed to ripple, and something emerged from thin air.
No, it poured out.
Clatter-jingle-clang!
The distinct metallic sound of coins and ingots crashing against each other. A golden brilliance that flaunted its magnificent presence under the sun.
A massive hoard of treasure, one so vast that the word ‘mountain’ was the only fitting description, cascaded down before the party’s eyes.
“Uh, uhh.”
Faced with a hill of gold and jewels easily twice the Tin Knight’s height, Adel stammered as if she’d short-circuited. Even for her, who came from a well-to-do family, it was a fortune unlike any she had ever seen.
[The ‘Tin Knight’ assesses that, as expected of a big shot, the reward is just as spectacular!]
The party had acquired a fair amount of treasure in the Taros Labyrinth, but even that paled in comparison to the mountain of riches before them.
Sophia nodded her head in understanding. “Ah.”
“This must be the Wicked Witch of the West’s fortune. It’s certainly more convenient than building a treasure vault to store it all. You can take it out whenever you need it, and there’s relatively little risk of it being stolen.”
“While you’re alive, that is,” Dorothea added.
It was a rather grim joke, coming from the very people who had just ended the witch.
Indeed, Franka, who was listening nearby, scoffed.
“Figures the have-nots would get so worked up. Killing the owner and taking her property… you’re no better than common robbers.”
Her companions expected Dorothea to get angry, but she was surprisingly nonchalant.
“Ha.”
In fact, a sly smile even played on her lips.
“Wh-what.”
Seeing that smile, Franka took a small step back.
Then, as if realizing something, her eyes shot wide open.
“Wait, don’t tell me. You’re going to silence me…! Is that it, now that my purpose is served!?”
Discarded after use. The terrifying thought filled Franka’s face with horror. Her two familiars, who had been slumping over in exhaustion, jolted in surprise and moved to protect her.
[The ‘Tin Knight’ expresses admiration for the perfect villain role-play!]
“M-My lady.”
“Impressive. A truly thorough clean-up.”
Even her own companions reacted with a mixture of awe and shock.
“Hey, I didn’t say anything! Why are you all jumping to conclusions?!”
As Dorothea shot them a death glare, those who had been looking at her with suspicion quickly averted their eyes.
Well, to be precise, one of them didn’t.
[The ‘Tin Knight’ advises that this is why one’s usual conduct is important!]
CLANG!!
The Tin Knight, now with a U-shaped dent in his head, toppled backward.
The little lion gulped, witnessing a strike so masterful it seemed Dorothea would soon reach enlightenment in the art of staff-whacking.
Her execution complete, Dorothea turned her gaze to the alchemist her age.
“Franka Aglaia.”
“Wh-what is it?”
“You called me a robber just now.”
“No, that was, I mean. Um.”
“So, are you saying you don’t want any?”
“Huh?”
Franka blinked a few times.
Slowly, her slightly hunched shoulders straightened, and her anxiously darting eyes regained their focus.
She understood the meaning behind Dorothea’s words.
“Are you saying you’ll share?”
“I’ll be taking these treasures. But there’s no way the Wicked Witch of the West’s assets were limited to just gold and jewels.”
She was right.
Alchemy was, by its nature, an art of finance. It demanded a tremendous investment to practice, but once mastered, it could yield enormous wealth. This was especially true for Elphaba, who had been known as a master alchemist for at least several hundred years.
Beyond material wealth, there were numerous tangible and intangible interests, as well as a rich legacy left behind as an alchemist, including surviving homunculi and various research materials.
Of course, devouring and absorbing all of it would be no easy task, but if successful, the gains would be immense. The Aglaia family, already one of the wealthiest in the Federation, would soar to new heights, and Franka herself would reach a higher plane as an alchemist.
“When it comes to physical goods, it’s one thing, but interests like those can’t be easily stolen anyway. I have no intention of staying here for long. The same goes for an alchemist’s legacy. It might be a useful reference, but it’s not that significant to me. So you can have all of that.”
Dorothea’s words were a truly sweet temptation.
And for that very reason, Franka grew even more suspicious.
From what she had experienced, Dorothea was not the type to offer favors for free.
“What’s your objective?”
“Just grant me two things. First, conceal Elphaba’s death.”
It was the end of one of the Four Great Witches.
Leaving aside the common folk, there was no way the powers of each nation wouldn’t take an interest in this news. They would scramble to gather any related information, and it wouldn’t be long before they learned about Dorothea’s party.
Since they hadn’t witnessed the witch’s death firsthand, it would remain mere ‘speculation,’ but it was obvious that even that speculation would make their future journey arduous.
Franka seemed to understand this much and readily nodded in agreement.
“That’s fine. It’s more convenient for me to pretend my old master is still alive for a while if I’m to take over her legacy anyway. But even if we hide it, the truth will eventually come out.”
“We just need to buy some time. The more ambiguous the time of death, the more potential suspects there will be, and the less suspicion will fall on us.”
“And the second thing?”
“That is…”
Dorothea began a rather lengthy explanation. Franka looked quite reluctant at first, but in the end, she accepted Dorothea’s proposal.
Next came a belated exchange of information.
The Tin Knight and Dorothea had already caught up on each other’s situations during their boat trip, but Adel and Sophia hadn’t had the time for a leisurely conversation.
Franka was quite surprised to hear Sophia’s story about a city-state where the descendants of the Wicked Witch of the West’s former disciples lived together.
“You had no idea?”
“I told you before. The only area I ever explored myself was about the size of the city around her main castle… To think she created an entire country just to have people handle her calculations and research. Her sense of scale is insane, now that I think about it.”
“Does that mean you’re the only disciple left now?”
“No, there are a few others on the outside. Most of them are just riffraff who bought the title of ‘Disciple of the Wicked Witch of the West’ in exchange for a hefty donation.”
The next topic was Adel’s story.
Adel cautiously confessed the truth about her bloodline—the Lion Duke’s bloodline—but Dorothea’s reaction was casual.
“So, according to the Wicked Witch of the West, your ancestor was a homunculus? Hmm, I suppose that’s possible.”
“Th-that’s all?”
“It was 200 years ago, wasn’t it? Even if you have some of that ancestor’s blood in you, it’s been diluted by half, and half again, and again. It’s just a tiny fraction, and the rest is all human, so what’s the problem? It’s not like having a homunculus ancestor causes any side effects. Besides, you’re traveling with that thing and this one already, so what’s the big deal?”
“My.”
[The ‘Tin Knight’ admonishes that pointing is rude!]
‘That thing’ and ‘this one’ reacted respectively. Like Dorothea, they seemed largely unfazed by the secret of Adel’s birth.
Adel let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Although she had expected her companions to react this way, the lingering anxiety of ‘what if’ that had remained in her heart melted away.
*
While the Tin Knight’s party was savoring the sweet taste of victory with legacy distribution and after-battle arrangements…
…outside the island, there was someone else chewing on the bitter taste of defeat.
It wasn’t the Wicked Witch of the West or her Mk.2.
They were long gone from this world, unable to suffer the pain of defeat.
“Damn it, damn it all! Son of a bitch!”
Conversely, the man here, ruminating on his loss, was not among the departed.
Though his bizarre appearance made him look like a moving skeleton, he was still a living being.
And for that reason, he was furious.
“Ninety-nine years!! I lived with a leash around my neck for ninety-nine years! And I couldn’t even last one more year, just one!”
The man, Cap’n Bill, felt the contract that bound him to the Wicked Witch of the West shatter into pieces.
The restraints that had held him were gone, and his freedom was returned, but he couldn’t rejoice.
What good was freedom when he hadn’t received the reward he was due? His ninety-nine years had been reduced to nothing!
If he could, he would have charged back inside the barrier that very instant, but he was currently unable to move.
His proud golden ship was buried upside down on the peak of some deserted island, his crew was skewered on sharp rocks like kebabs, and Cap’n Bill himself was pinned from the waist down beneath a giant boulder.
It was a spectacle created by a certain white-haired mage.
The curse of immortality they carried had kept them from dying, but it looked like it would take a long time to get back in order.
“Just you wait… I will never, ever forget this grudge…!”
The white-haired witch who had sent him and his crew flying.
And Franka and her companions, who had likely defeated Elphaba.
As their faces surfaced in his mind, Cap’n Bill vowed revenge.
This, too, was a legacy, of a sort.
A negative legacy left by the witch, one that would find its way to you even if you didn’t want it.