Magdala de Nemure:Volume05

Novel Illustrations

These are the novel illustrations that were included in Magdala de Nemure Volume 5

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Prologue

“The Lord hath spoken! Open the path!”

The pure white girl stood proudly, her voice echoing with through the battlefield in a way different from a beast’s roar, followed by an explosion resounding like a hellish cauldron opened. Following that were dazzling rays of light, and a scorching wave of heat.

It was a common saying to say that the walls of humans toppled over, yet the scene before them was more comparable to bellows whiffing soot and dust up from the floor.

“The Lord had decreed that we are justice, that we are to advance! Proceed without fear! This is the path our Lord has as blessed with his glory!”

It was a quote from a chapter recorded in the Bible, depicting how the people obeyed God’s guidance and went to the Promised Land. According to the Bible, the Lord led his suffering children away from the oppressive ancient Empire, through a hazardous journey, and miraculously led them to the Promised Land.

Normally, such words would seem so surreal, a tall tale, yet it became reality before their eyes.

“Those that turn their backs on God shall be scorched in eternal flames!”

Even big rocks could shatter easily as long as cracks appeared. At this point, they were literally surrounded by flames, charging through the enemy ranks. Such a scene was too surreal to fathom.

In any case, the devices mimicked the dragon fountain, spewing flammable oil.

The armies of ex-Pagans were laying siege on the mining town of Kazan, primed to retake it. The Knights’ forces charging out of Kazan were overwhelmingly outnumbered and stood out prominently.

However, awaiting the Knights soldiers that were trying to escape from Kazan was a thick wall human wall. The enemy comprised of heavily armored knights, spear-wielding mercenaries, and archers pelting arrows upon them. A few dragon flamethrowers would most likely be insufficient in dealing with them.

To make up for the difference in fighting forces, Kusla’s side steadied its resolve, and charged towards the weak point of the enemy with reckless abandon. They knew this was the only way out for them.

They followed the flames, and bravely charged forth, instantly changing the situation around.

The enemy was completely intimidated by the vigor shown and could not muster the urge to fight back. Most of them probably could not believe the scenery before them and were utterly stupefied.

This scenery was so foreign to them. There was a dragon, stated in legends to roam these lands, and asphalt fire that appeared to be rising from the depths of hell, lunging towards them.

Nobody could believe the scenery unveiled before their eyes.

The enemy should have been feeling more courageous than the Knights.

But there was a reason why they were utterly flabbergasted.

And it was due to whatever was before there.

There was a dragon-shaped flamethrower and standing atop it was a girl.

Someone amongst the enemy ranks yelled,

“It’s an Ancient! The mythical calamity! The ancient spirits have awakened!”

Normally, anyone would have laughed it off.

But once they saw the dragon head turned to another direction, they understood that it was reality.

The war-hardened soldiers were left terrified by the dragon and the strange looking girl riding on the back of the dragon, causing them to panic and retreat to the sides.

A scorching trail blazed through, and was followed by thick black smoke, causing the enemy to sense an impending Death and disperse. Due to the thick hell-like black smoke blocking their vision, the soldiers could only do as they deemed necessary, and the enemy formations broke down. The Knights side charged through the opening revealed by the enemy, lances in hand as they barged in like a giant rake stabbed into a massive haystack. The enemies unable to escape in time raised the shields that were half their height, forming a wall of metal. While they tried to escape when given the opportunity, the heavy armor slowed them greatly, like a tortoise, and they were slayed from behind by swords, stabbed by lances, and fell one after another. It was no different from hare hunting in town.

The Knights gave a deafening roar.

“Charge!!!”

They bolted through the battlefield that was hell on Earth, and the dragon too accelerated to the frontlines. The enemy had laid a heavy siege upon the town in their attempt to exterminate the Knights. Once they heard the enemy’s deafening roars from the back, they assumed those were cheers from their allies. Unfortunately for them, the ones slashing their way through the human barricade was not the friendlies they had assumed. Once the enemies at the backline saw the forces centered around the dragons and girl breaking through, they were all left stupefied.

Humans are most fragile when struck at the most unexpected moment. The Knights did not let this chance pass, and the metal dragons raised their wings, turned their heads.

The Alchemist Kusla was grabbing firmly onto the hands of dragon-shaped flamethrower operating it. He loosened the leash, and the flames were unleashed immediately. The heat wave scorched his face, and was so bright, his eyes were closed, as the flames were expunged.

He had assumed that the Vanguard led by the dragon would have pulled quite some distance. However, there were too many enemies, mobbing them endlessly. This uncertainty awoke a worry within him, as he wondered if the forces behind them had caught up.

Looking back, he saw the Knights’ soldiers giving chase. They were completely blackened by the soot in the thick smoke, the eyes the only ones that looked exceptionally white. Weyland, another Alchemist, was firing another metal dragon flamethrower upon the enemies.

At this moment, the girl standing at the throne behind had called the soldiers ‘Warriors of God’.

The girl was a member of what they called the cursed bloodline, born with a non-human deformity.

Kusla turned around and looked forward.

The enemy soldiers were rattled by the flames that were expunged, and hastily escaped from the wall of black smoke. There was no way they could stop the surging Knights.

He sensed a looming miracle, and the excitement was rising up his throat.

The enemies at the back fell one after another. It was an omen that their ranks were collapsing. Perhaps their hopes to barge through the enemy wall could become reality after all.

And while all the Knights were filled with such elation.

“Fire away!!”

A shout could be heard to the left before they.

Kusla tugged at the dragon leash as he looked up to the left and saw a flock of birds passing by.

No.

They were arrows.

The enemy archers were not defeated by the fear in their hearts and fired at the Knights in unison.

Kusla and the others concentrated their penetration at a point in the enemy’s formation, like a flaming lance burning with the intention to charge through. Thus, the Knights probably intended to charge through in a narrow, straight line, but no matter how clear the goal was, no matter how fast they ran, there was no way they could be as fast as the wind. Also, it was thoroughly difficult for them to change directions rapidly when they were dashing forth.

The arrows, hovering like birds above in the sky, rained down upon them like a massive serpent, and it was a nerve wracking sight to behold.

In a charge, if the Vanguard was to fall, the ones behind would follow. The enemy’s objective was obvious. The rain of arrows would surely fall upon them, the Vanguard. Kusla held his breath, leaving his fate to the Heavens.

At that moment.

“The Lord is protecting us!”

Everyone present looked over.

Standing there, at the throne resting upon the back of the dragon, was a girl holding a Bible in a hand, rallying them. The white sister robes were covered with helmet and armor, and she resembled a War Goddess. The part most striking of her, as compared to the battlefield, was the diminutive, pristine body.

The girl was staring forward, ostensibly spotting something.

While everyone else remained stunned, her white long hair fluttered with the wind, and she looked so fleeting. She had a pair of non-human, beast-like ears, and a non-human appearance, forced to act as a symbol of calamity that had spread amongst the Pagans since ancient times. However, the main reason for their reactions was that her appearance was too beautiful, so fleeting in comparison to the cruel battlefield.

She was a white War Goddess rising from the depictions of the war memoirs.

Everyone present seemed out of it as they watched the sidelong face of Ul Fenesis.

The arrows of death rained from the sky, and the armada of thousands stampeded in a deafening manner.

“…”

At that moment, Kusla did not understand what happened. It had gotten quiet around them.

The ground beneath him continued to move, and he understood that the carriage ferrying the dragon was racing forth. He, hidden behind the dragon, lifted his head, and found the carriage pierced with arrows.

But he remained standing, breathing, alive!

Thinking about this, Kusla heaved a sigh of relief, and lifted his head.

Fenesis remained in his sights, her expression starkly different from before, stunned, like a dead person. He was taken aback, and a chilling fear rose within his heart.

But once she stared blankly at her own body, she lowered her head at him.

Her green eyes were looking at him with incredulity.

And she again looked forward.

“It’s a miracle!”

Someone yelled, and it pulled Kusla’s consciousness back to the battlefield.

He looked around and saw the soldiers around them checking themselves.

None of them were hit.

“It’s really a miracle!”

The Knights raised their lances to cheer and ran faster than before.

There was nothing to fear.

This thought had reached the enemy’s heart.

The enemy lines had crumbled.

The Vanguard penetrated through.

Is this even possible?

Kusla looked forth at the land devoid of people and muttered in utter disbelief. Surely they would have died back then, yet not only was he incredulous, he was strangely terrified. A miracle, an empty thing in itself, would only be called one if it did not happen, no?

He sensed his throat was parched and unbearable, several times he tried to swallow his saliva, only to nearly spit it out.

He turned behind.

The Knights soldiers were like him, giving looks of utter disbelief. Surely this was a normal reaction, so he thought with relief, looked away, and lifted his head. He was a little worried for the girl before him.

Kusla then narrowed his eyes, for he could not believe the scene that was unveiled before him.

The carriage ferrying the dragon broke through the enemy’s ranks and raced through the frontlines. The girl on the dragon was holding a Bible in hand, showing no signs of trepidation as she stood proudly on the throne. That alone would have left Kusla thoroughly impressed.

But that was not all.

Fenesis stood boldly, her pure white hair fluttering with the wind.

Kusla watched her stare blankly. Even at this moment, she was smiling. In the past, she would show a determined look, and clearly it showed that she was not some weak, pure-hearted girl. Once he saw that however, he had to understand something.

Fenesis was a person, filled with emotions, and was not a kitten that was only to be understood, protected, and doted on.

He looked forward and found himself rattled.

Why did he feel so bitter? What was he terrified of?

No, it was likely that he was feeling overwhelmed as they had just broken through the enemy’s ranks. It was embarrassing for him, so he thought, and he could only believe so.

Once the forces finally broke through and arrived at an open field. There was a path before them, leading towards the forest. It was more advantageous for the Knights, inferior in numbers, to enter the forest, Kusla did not think that the Knights could weave their way through as easily as before and fend off the incoming enemies.

The enemy soldiers had forgotten to raise their weapons as they watched the Knights leave.

They escaped.

So Kusla consoled himself, the pain smacking at his heart was due to the emotions that could not be repressed, the exhilaration of victory rising in his heart.

Soon after, they escaped into the forest, and slowed down.

Nobody said anything as they continued to make haste.

The soldiers, more riled up than the horses, started to stumble as they arrived at their designated vantage point. It was a mound, a cliff to the side. If they positioned the dragon flamethrowers atop the mounds, they could gain a complete advantage by holding the high ground. The path was narrow, forests on both sides of the mound, and the landscape was hard to tackle.

No matter how many armies came, if they set up position here, they could hold their ground as long as the dragon fuel was not depleted.

But when they first heard of this plan, none of them could believe.

It was likely the Commander was the only one who actually believed that the forces could reach this place, for his job was to believe.

So when they actually arrived and set up their defenses, all of them was stunned.

Were there no enemies around? How was it possible for them to arrive?

None of them could say anything.

They silently looked in the probable direction the enemy would arrive from.

Suddenly, they heard the galloping of the horses.

Reality was finally catching up to them. Only when the enemy arrived would they dare believe it was reality. It was abnormal of them.

However, arriving at this point was not the enemy.

“The enemy is not giving pursuit!”

The scout, riding on horseback, yelled.

“The enemy has given up on pursuit and is preparing to attack Kazan!”

All of them stopped.

The scout bringing good news was momentarily taken aback, and then, he lashed out angrily.

“We did it! We escaped!”

Immediately, there were no cheers on the mound, just giggles.

All of them snickered, and soon after, they burst into laughter.

They dropped their weapons and laughed out loud.

Kusla was standing by with the metal dragon, waiting to fire the flames once the enemy came. At this moment, he too heaved a long sigh of relief. His shoulders relaxed, and the soldiers next to him were guffawing and patting him on the head and shoulders, embracing him.

Someone then shouted,

“Praise be to God!”

Someone else then shouted,

“Praise be the great Knights!”

“Praise be to Archduke Kratal!”

“And!”

It seemed everyone had premeditated upon something as they looked in a certain direction.

No, it was likely that ever since the battle started, everyone had focused their attentions there.

Kusla too looked over there.

There was a girl seated on the throne installed at the back of the dragon, collapsed there as she heaved a sigh of relief after the battle ended.

“Praised be our War Goddess!”

The exhilarant soldiers gave a thunderous roar. The startled birds flew out of the forests in flocks, but as Fenesis herself did not have wings, she could not fly away from the throne. The beast ears on her head were twitching like wings.

“Eh? Eh?”

With the stares gathered upon her, Fenesis immediately reverted back to being a town girl, and was on the verge of tears as she fidgeted around.

Seeing this, Kusla grimaced, but the soldiers were exuberant with exhilaration as they had just escaped death, more direct in their reactions.

They gathered before the carriage ferrying the dragon, first embracing Kusla, and then surrounding Fenesis.

In a frenzy, the mercenaries and Knights roared with joy, and Kusla stood on the sidelines, watching them whisk Fenesis from the throne.

The latter was completely overwhelmed. Surely, it seemed like–

Soon after Kusla had such a thought, Fenesis vanished as she was pulled by them, and she was tossed above their heads.

“The Prophet of our Lord! Glory to this beautiful spirit and our great Knights!”

Fenesis was raised by the mercenaries who were thrice as muscular as her, and she desperately cling onto the hem of her robes.

What is she being worried about here? Kusla gave a wry smile.

A Knight meekly requested to shake hands with her, and she shook his hand tentatively. The others too swarmed in, “Me too, me too!”

None of them were bothered by the fact that Fenesis had ears on her head. No, their actions were saying that the beast ears were a miraculous sign.

Surely the soldiers were simpletons at heart.

They were probably thinking that they could win due to these beast ears, that those with deformities were not all bad.

In any case, it seemed Fenesis was not shunned as a cursed symbol, and neither was she dismissed as a plain town girl. She should not be in any trouble. Upon seeing this, Kusla gave a temporary sigh of relief. There was a group of veterans, collected soldiers away from the soldiers surrounding Fenesis. They were effervescent in praise and thanks towards him.

Once Fenesis was finally released from the mercenaries, she momentarily lost her footing as she stumbled over, so Kusla went over to support her. After she was released all the cheering, her hair was messy, her clothes crumpled, and she was soaked in sweat, as though she was working before the scorching furnace.

“Are you fine?”

Kusla asked. Fenesis nodded her head, and suddenly lifted it up high.

“Wh-what about Miss Irine and Mr Weyland?”

More concerned with others instead of yourself now? Kusla gave a wry smile as he scanned his surroundings, and spotted Weyland. The latter had noticed him too, and waved back heartily, as though they had just encountered each other on the streets.

“Looks fine.”

“I… see…”

Fenesis heaved a sigh of relief, and went limp in Kusla’s clutches, slipping down as though her body was devoid of bones. Physically and mentally, she was probably at her limits.

“Hey, hang on a little longer.”

Kusla held her up again, but her eyes were already closing. While Kusla himself was all worn out, he could not let a groggy lady remain in his clutches.

Thus, he carried her up, and placed her on the carriage. Some alert mercenaries had already prepared a blanket for her. Goodness me so he grumbled, but he was also relieved. He was finally able to notice her face. The smoke from the flames left lots of soot, and on a closer look, he found her face to be covered with black streaks.

Kusla gave a chuckle and wanted to use his thumb to wipe off Fenesis’ face. However, he found his hand to be dirtier than her face and ended up making it worse.

Fenesis herself was too weary to sleep. Once Kusla touched her face, she turned to look at him with her discombobulated eyes.

“Close your eyes. You’ll be able to sleep soon.”

“…”

Upon hearing that, Fenesis lowered her eyelids, but did not shut them off completely.

“Sure is dirty though. Better get some hot water or a handkerchief...”

Fenesis’ face was thoroughly dirtied. Kusla looked at his hands again, and found them to be so black, it appeared he had just touched some charcoal. He was completely covered in sweat, and really wanted to wipe his body clean.

He thought as he tried to stand up, only to be tugged at by something.

He lowered his head, and found Fenesis, with her eyes closed, tugging at the hem of his shirt. The little hand was more forceful than he expected.

Was she sleeping, or hiding her embarrassment?

In any case, he could understand what she yearned.

Kusla sat back again and leaned on the railing of the carriage. Fortifications were established around him, and the non-combatants were all hastily preparing food. In any case, it seemed they managed to escape unscathed.

He lowered his head, looking at the face of the sleeping Fenesis, and chuckled, before his lethargic self finally fell to fatigue. As he laid down, looking at the sky, he sensed something strange in his heart, though not unpleasant in the slightest.

Kusla glanced aside at Fenesis and closed his eyes.

With the stench of sweat and ash around him, his consciousness was taken by Sleep itself.

Act 1

Though long weary, Kusla remained invigorated due to the proceedings of the battle.

He had eaten and wiped himself clean, but on this night, he woke up from time to time, unable to sleep fully.

Once he realized the sky was beginning to dawn, he had a sudden urge to laze in bed, one he did not have in a while.

But he was not in a workshop, and the soldiers had already gotten up, preparing breakfast. Thus, Kusla could only buck up and stretch lazily.

He yawned, and Fenesis, who had been hugging him as she slept finally woke up. He looked over at her, and she again lowered her sleeping face, giving a yawn as she clung onto his arm.

She twitched, and tried to sit up, only to realize the predicament she was in.

Kusla imagined her yelling in a panic, and had the urge to giggle.

However,

“I did not snore, did I?”

Fenesis asked, feeling gaudy.

“I was always scolded for not sleeping well during my wandering days.”

When living outside, the temperature at night would become extremely chilly. The wanderers would use natural protection, the human skin, to gain warmth. It was said that at times, some perished due to the sudden cold, and no matter the sex, all the wanderers would huddle together for warmth. Such a barbaric custom was frowned upon by the Church, and even Kusla was a little unaccepting of this as he had been living in the towns for long. Fenesis herself was a wanderer to begin with.

She was not the kind of girl who would make a fuss over sleeping with others.

“What…did I really snore…?”

Fenesis saw Kusla’s scowling face, and lowered her ears in fear, lifting her eyes at him.

Kusla felt that she was a sharp blade.

A sword hilt and blade would differ in hardness, according to the metals used. The unique combination would give rise to an unbreakable sword.

Fenesis was the same; she had a feeble side, and a sturdy side. She appeared weak, but was abnormally strong inside.

Disarm the enemy’s defenses with weakness, get close, and deliver the fatal blow with convicted feelings.

Kusla recalled the conversation both of them had before they left Kazan.

And of course, the decisive blow was the scene he had witnessed the prior day.

He said to a dejected Fenesis,

“You’re heavy.”

Fenesis ears jolted, and her face turned beetroot.

Her body was as thin as chicken bones, and naturally, she was not exactly heavy to begin with.

So Kusla slapped her on the head, “how are you so heavy when you are flat?” Fenesis was dumbfounded when she heard that, her lips pursed into a triangle as she was fuming.

After teasing her, Kusla rinsed his face with some water, and nudged his body a fair bit. His muscles felt tense, perhaps because he embraced Fenesis too tightly the previous night, or perhaps he was too tense when they broke through the siege. Even Fenesis next to him seemed a little stiff, but it was probably not due to muscle aches, and it might not be due to Kusla having teased her. In the past, if Kusla had angered her, she would have pouted and shunned him; this time however, she remained by his side. In fact, the real reason for Fenesis’ stiffness was the reaction of the soldiers when they witnessed the revival of the war goddess.

Before participating through the breakthrough, Kusla had a negotiation with the commander Alzen, that he would ensure that the soldiers, no different from vile beasts, would not bring harm to Fenesis. It appeared there was no need for that however; once the soldiers witnessed the awakening of Fenesis, they immediately knelt on one leg, bowing towards her.

While there was some element of teasing in their actions, there was some respect harbored when they did so.

Such simpletons, Kusla grimaced. However, he too enjoyed some of the soldiers’ respect, and did not have any disapproval of it.

However, the one involved party herself had probably assumed Alzen or a noble had arrived, for she looked around, before lowering her head, her hands clasped before her chest as she made a prayer pose.

Seeing that, Kusla gave a wry look,

“It’s you. It’s you.”

“…Eh?”

Fenesis appeared confused, and Kusla merely shrugged, explaining,

“Everyone is bowing towards you.”

Fenesis’ expression at this point pleased Kusla somewhat.

“Need some water?”

A Knight in his prime years was holding a basin, kneeling before Kusla,

“Ah, thank you. Please take care of those two too. Not going to be easy if they become unruly.”

Kusla pointed at Irine and Weyland, who were both checking on the dragon-shaped flamethrowers.

The Knight glanced aside at them, bowed politely, and stood up to leave.

Next to him, Fenesis took a deep sigh.

“Feeling like a Princess now?”

“…Do, do not make fun of me, please.”

Fenesis hissed, her voice barely audible. Of course, she, unused to this treatment, chose to hide behind Kusla, and not move to the wayside. Perhaps she felt that it was better to be teased by Kusla than it was to deal with a bunch of strangers.

“How’s the situation with the dragon?”

Kusla and Fenesis arrived at the camp where the dragon was. Weyland just so happened to leave, and Irine was alone, poking her head into the dragon’s mouth to check.

“Hmm, the residue of the burnt asphalt is sticking inside, and the breather is distorted by the heat. It’s not completely blocked, but continual use will probably cause the asphalt to spread.

“Yes, we were really busy yesterday, but a certain person was sleeping really soundly.”

Irine was miffed upon hearing that, her hands on her hips as she refuted,

“But I have done my part before sleeping.”

“Right. You did play a part in creating this miracle. Gutsy of you to be snoring away while a battle was going on. That hair color of yours had the mercenaries thinking that you’re the God of thunder and smithing.”

“Eh, really?”

Irine suddenly tidied her appearance, decently too; once she spotted the smirk on Kusla’s face however, she realized.

“Hey, isn’t that God some bearded redhead?”

“Looks like you.”

Fenesis immediately reproached Kusla by slapping him on the arm. Irine looked aside with displeasure, and sighed, as though berating herself as a fool for being nitpicky with him.

“Well, whatever. There’s still the issue on whether we can reach our destination safely.”

“You think the dragons will break down on the way there?”

It was not much of stretch to proclaim that Irine’s smithing skills could be compared to the best of them.

Once she saw the serious look on Kusla’s face, she immediately did away with her displeased look.

However, her face remained grim,

“No, this should be fine. The real issue however…”

“What?”

Kusla was about to pursue the matter, but a tantalizing aroma reached their noses.

Looking aside, they found Weyland approaching with a pot full of soup.

“I brought breakfast~”

A that moment, the stomachs of Kusla, Fenesis and Irine rumbled, so they decided to first fill their tummies before doing anything else.

The other mercenaries gathered in bunches, seated around the bonfire as they had breakfast.

The sun rose from the East, and the weather started to warm; coupled with the fragrance of the food, it seemed God Himself was blessing them for their future.

However, they were merely a battalion of no more than two hundred, entrenched deep within enemy territory.

About a tenth of them were merchants, craftsmen, and the rest were basically fighters, mercenaries, and Knights. The armor, rings, and certain various places on their bodies were engraved with the same crest.

It was the crest of the famed Cladius Knights, but the crest itself was of no help to them at this point.

At one point, they had an astounding amount of authority, and wherever they went, the rulers of the Land kowtowed to them; its name was such, that wailing children would cease to cry. A few days ago, the situation had changed completely. At this point, Kusla and the others were already in the pagan lands of Latria, and the Queen herself was a pagan. Thus, the Knights fell from Heaven to hell, for the Queen herself had converted to Orthodoxy.

The Knights, devoted to defeating the pagans and annexing their lands under God, were deemed as heretics attacking their fellow believers.

Politics itself was as fickle as an Alchemist’s experimentation.

Kusla firmly believed that the Knights would surely counterattack, and placed his bets upon them, following them out to Kazan.

The destination of the Knights was the port city Nilberk, west of Kazan, a four-day, four night journey. That would be the largest base of the Knights within the territory of Latria. Most importantly, Nilberk had a port where a massive naval fleet could be deployed, unlike Kazan, surrounded by a mountainous region. Thus, it could receive loads of supplies, and was an ideal place for a skirmish.

Everyone knew that, and the Knights scattered all over the kingdom of Latria should probably regroup there. That was why they had to hurry towards Nilberk, or they would run out of good while on the run, ensnared by the enemy, and be slain or enslaved as a result.

The initial skirmish, which they had risked their lives on, luckily succeeded. Due to this, the soldiers no longer feared the massive enemy, who feared them instead. This loot was something no amount of money could gain. As the ancient military strategist would say, supreme excellence consists in breaking the enemy’s resistance without fighting.

“Our passage forward should be unhindered now.”

The morning sun shining upon them, the fragrance of food brimming, Archduke Kratol gave a speech once he saw everyone was done.

People are simple. As long as the weather is good, their stomachs are full, they will feel that nothing can stump them.

The miraculous victory the previous day surged the soldiers’ morale, and with the rousing speech by the Archduke, they roared in agreement, like beasts. With that, if nothing went wrong, the group should be able to remain united the entire them.

Archduke Kratol stood upon his personalized carriage, his fists clenched.

“It is due to your valor that we escaped from that town of despair, and managed to break a chunk out of the enemy’s perimeter. However, valor alone is insufficient to win. The enemy you shall fight are all braves.”

The grizzled soldiers listened to the Archduke’s words with proud looks on their faces.

But Kusla, about to bring his bowl to his lips, felt an ominous premonition.

“I have witnessed a miracle during the battle yesterday. This is the first time I have witnessed the birth of a miracle. I do believe the scenes remain vivid to you, no? When protected by the army of God, the enemy’s blades will be repelled, and the arrows fall to the wayside. Fear has crept into the hearts of the enemy, and no matter how ferocious a warrior, they were powerless before us. Some might laugh it off as a superstition, but we have witnessed a miracle. If they wish to mock, let them mock. How we stand unscathed along with our flag shall be the biggest proof of our miracle.

Kusla arched his back further as he heard this part.

“The Alchemists are the oracles who guided us towards victory. We shall grant them our utmost respect!”

Archduke Kratol stood on the carriage, bowing towards Kusla and the others.

The thick, round right fist hammered down upon the left shoulder.

And thus, every person looked towards Kusla, standing up in unison, and bowed as the Archduke did.

Spare me already. so Kusla quietly grimaced, while Weyland grinned away heartily.

Irine, munching away, lifted her head and looked around in shock, while Fenesis showed an innocent smile towards the two alchemists, perhaps try to bless them in any way.

Still delirious, Kusla glanced aside at Fenesis.

“And also!”

Archduke Kratol roared.

His voice was booming,

“To praise the beauty of our War Goddess, who led this miracle, through the siege!”

And the soldiers, once again understanding, burst into celebration.

Fenesis, taken aback by this, pricked her beast ears, straightening up.

It seemed she had not expected herself to be the focal point of attention, for she was left dumbfounded.

“We will have to keep marching on, so do endure for a little longer. I do believe none of us soldiers are willing to make a fool of ourselves before the Goddess. If we do lose our courage and purity, the protection of the fairies shall depart us!”

While the Archduke did say the last bit in a teasing manner, the soldiers seemed to have bought those words.

In any case, Fenesis was a beauty, and anyone could tell that she was extraordinary.

The respect the soldiers had for Fenesis was obvious.

Archduke Kratol’s theatrics were clearly to affirm the thoughts of the soldiers–that Fenesis was not a taboo who should be shunned, but an exalted existence beyond them. With his affirmation, Fenesis’ identity was without doubt.

But even so, she was so taken aback by the passionate stares of the many hunking men, that like a frog glared at by a snake, she forgot to breathe.

“Thus, do finish your food before we hurry on. Our brothers in Nilberk should be awaiting our arrival!”

It was then that everyone looked away from Fenesis, and kept eating or packing their belongings.

Kusla stared at the food in his bowl, and said,

“Need another bowl? Goddess?”

Fenesis turned her face towards Kusla with much displeasure.

But before she could speak up, a few figures appeared before them. Looking up, Kusla found three young mercenaries.

“Erm, if you excuse us.”

One of them stammered.

They were not bearded, hulking bear-like men, but their physiques were rather intimidating.

Fenesis looked tense, and could not react once she saw what the mercenaries handed her. Still stupefied, she looked back and forth between their faces, and the thing in their hands,

“Erm, we found these…”

They handed a bunch of fresh flowers, a rarity in this season. While the flowers were not radiant in color, and were small and plain, they were all fresh flowers.

It was unexpected for these mercenaries, rash people who could only charge into the enemy fortifications, would do such a romantic gesture. Kusla widened his eyes. The mercenaries looked as innocent as infatuated boys.

“These are the only ones we can find…sorry.”

Fenesis received the flowers tentatively, as though a bear was sharing honest with her.

“And to the blacksmith who built the dragon.”

Irine received the flowers, and looked utterly flustered as she returned a gaudy smile towards the mercenaries.

“E-erm, our lives will be in your care, during the next battle.”

While they were saying something unnerving, they were stammering, and once they were done, they scampered away, showing weakness unbefitting their appearances.

It was too sudden as Kusla watched the mercenaries leave, and after some distance, they gave gaudy smiles. It was likely this was the first time in their lives that they did something like this.

They appeared no different from the young men often seen in the towns, not barbaric mercenaries, at least.

And they brought plain flowers; that plainness instead would get on anyone’s good side.

“They aren’t bad people after all~”

Weyland guffawed.

Yep, Kusla quietly noted.

As they marched on, there were a few skirmishes.

It seemed the enemy, who had given up on pursuit, had issued a bounty. It would be demoralizing, damaging to their reputation, if they were to personally give chase and be defeated, but they could not simply let the Knights escape, and thus ordered for this. Assaulting them were bandits and unorganized mobs, and were no match for the grizzled Knights and mercenaries.

Furthermore, there was a beautiful Goddess amongst the Knights watching the battles, and morale was never higher. The soldiers wanted to showcase their prowess before the Goddess, even hoping for the enemy to appear.

Those who wanted to wipe out the remnants were slain, reduced to dust. The Knights on the other hand were not depleted in the slightest.

Victory would only strengthen.

By the second evening, there was no sign of them hastily escaping.

One might say they were running away from reality, and the situation would not improve even when they acted as though they were facing a massive army.

After dinner, the two alchemists were summoned to Alzen’s tent. After a conversation, even the poised Kusla was left a little flabbergasted.

“Mass production of dragons?”

There were report documents and maps laid out on a simple table, along with a distilled liquor and pickled herring. It seemed he had a commoner’s preference for food.

“We need to ask that Irine for details…but we have no materials and fuel.”

“These can be concocted, no problems. As much as we want.”

Alzen dismissed them nonchalantly, and Kusla was mystified. Where are you going to get them?

You think that’s something that can be dug up?

“Have you obtained the optimal manner to use the fuel?”

Kusla and Weyland exchanged looks, and shrugged.

“Anyone can obtain results, as long as time can be devoted to research.”

“No, that is fine. If time is required, that is fine. This is enough capital for us to seize the initiative.”

Alzen said, looking extremely pleased.

Enough capital to seize the initiative?

Kusla inadvertently frowned. Upon seeing this, Alzen gave a miffed look.

“Don’t be disheartened. There are lots of things for you to do.”

Isn’t our job now to escape to Nilberk alive?

Is Alzen delirious after all the victories before this?

For an instant, this worry appeared in Kusla’s mind.

“What I am talking about is when we enter Nilberk. This might be our biggest opportunity ever in life.”

“Opport…unity?”

Kusla asked, and looked towards Weyland.

He had assumed he was the only one who did not understand Alzen, but Weyland too was as confused as he was, the latter’s hand on his chin as he looked back at Alzen.

“What do you think of this war?”

Alzen then looked back at the dumbfounded duo.

The two Alchemists shrugged with indifference, just as they did during their apprenticeship.

“If I may be honest?”

Kusla asked, and Alzen nodded,

“The greedy Knights are getting their just desserts.”

Weyland chuckled.

And while Alzen was not laughing, Kusla continued,

“The Knights deployed too many people into Latria, and the enemy saw that our forces were not compact enough, so they separated us to break us one by one. Nilberk is probably the same…along with the Knights to the South.”

Clearlyy there were Southerners amongst the enemies besieging Kazan, and that was the definitive proof that the Knights were being attacked in the South.

The chaos was not restricted only to Latria, and the enemy clearly wanted to wipe out the Knights entirely.

In this situation, even Kusla, unfamiliar with military matters, could determine what the Knights were planning to do, to recline the overextended hands, gathered all forces, and defend. While the ores were not used, if they were purified sufficiently, they could be used as metals for multiple purposes.

It was likely that while the Northern forces were fighting at Nilberk, they would be contacting the Southern forces to regroup.

Thus might be the case.

“Of course, we are hoping that Your Excellency will allow us a shelter amidst the battles.”

Alzen quietly noted Kusla’s taunt.

After some silence, he closed his eyes, rubbed them, and sighed,

“How conservative you are. Are you a town craftsman?”

Kusla’s eyebrow twitched.

It was in the nature of an Alchemist to be greedy for their objectives.

“But there are enemies everywhere.”

Hearing that, Alzen nodded.”

“Yes. Enemies everywhere. The enemies are easy to identify then.”

Kusla gasped. Alzen showed the grin of a ruler.

“Also, the enemy is allying with the pagans. This is a golden opportunity for us to crush the enemy head on. Since we are being attacked all over the world, once we defeat them, we shall become the rulers of the world in God’s place. Have you imagined such a world before? Not at all, have you, Alchemists?”

Alzen took a sip, smiling.

“There is a need for a casus belli. To think the enemy will serve it up before us. Should we not thank God for this?”

The candlelight flickered, and a shadow appeared upon the wrinkles of Alzen’s face as he placed his hands on the maps on the table.

Kusla had a look at those maps, and finally noticed.

They were not maps simply from Kazan to Nilberk.

There were also maps leading North of Nilberk. It seemed they were planning on attacking Latria from Nilberk.

“Our brothers in Nilberk surely must be thinking the same. At this moment, seizing the initiative will mean seizing the right to rule in this world war. I dare swear that your manufactured weapons will help us achieve our goal. Archduke Kratol too is looking forward to it. We’re on to Latria!”

Alzen had a fleeting dream amidst this crisis.

But Kusla did not think he was a mentally weak person.

In other words, Alzen was for real. He really found the biggest opportunity in life amidst this unprecedented crisis.

The Land of Magdala.

Surely Alzen had the willpower needed to head to Magdala.

“Thus, we need to mass-produce dragons. You will create a list of required materials and fuel before we reach Nilberk. The parts materials to be forged, the amount of fuel needed for processing, and the number of men is also required. Of course, reducing our expenditure will improve our advantage. Do remember why the Knights hired you.”

Alchemists were no more than tools.

But Kusla thought.

“I shall be looking forward to your performances.”

Alzen surely believed that lead could be turned into gold.

“Understood.”

Kusla lowered his head.

And as he exited the tent, he let out a long sigh.

Weyland instead was looking up into the sky, seemingly elated.

“He’s mad.”

“Surely he is a resident of Magdala~”

“Yes.”

And that was why Kusla bowed towards Alzen.

Alchemists were merely tools, but Alzen wanted to incorporate them into his grand plan.

Kusla was not displeased to be used this way.

“We’re on to Latria?”

If that was really the case, perhaps Kazan could be regained, and they could gain more resources then.

Also, it appeared the Knights had no intentions of abandoning Latria, and this comforted Kusla.

There was something he wanted to find from the land no matter what.

And when looking for that thing, if this land was within Archduke Kratol’s domain, it would be all the more convenient to him.

“Anyway, let’s discuss this with Irine~”

“Don’t let her seize the initiative. It’s depressing enough.”

“Yes yes yes. But she is a fine blacksmith of the highest caliber. It is the job of one after all.”

Kusla scowled, looking displeased. While Irine’s expertise was widely recognized, he had a feeling that the woman had leverage over him. He did not want the latter to remain so gleeful.

So with a heavy heart, he returned to the bonfire, only to stop in unison alongside Weyland.

One was grinning, and one was stupefied.

“How cutteee~”

“What did you just do?”

Naturally, the one grinning was Weyland, and the one stupefied was Kusla.

“Little Ul has nice long silky hair here. Can’t let it go to waste.”

Irine said as she proudly puffed her chest, while Fenesis, whose hair was well taken care of, stood by her. The latter’s hair was a lot intricate than the lazy bundle when she toiled in the workshop, and she was akin to a holy maiden chosen for a Saint’s festival. Surely this was a cute getup, and more importantly, it gave a strange, mature vibe, for the simpleton of a maiden was instantly turned into a posh lady.

Clothes make the man, they say, Kusla corrected himself.

Fenesis herself lowered her head and shrank back. What was with her? Perhaps she hated the attention after all.

“Ah, oh yes, Irine~, some work~”

“Heh? Did something break down?”

“No, loads of things to smelt~”

“What work?”

“Mass production of the dragons~”

The blacksmith’s expression changed immediately, and from the cargo, she took out some paper and pen, using the twigs on the ground to establish the amount of crude bronze required.

“These are the bronze plates…will be difficult since they differ from our guild’s.”

Irine murmured as she drew the necessary parts for the dragon on the ground. It appeared she had memorized the structure of the dragon.

However, a blacksmith devoted to battling before the furnace would not really excel at calculations.

“Irine, the numbers are reversed. You will make mistake calculating.”

Weyland, standing next to Irine, wiped the numbers off with his foot, took the twig and rewrote it. Irine impatiently drew the parts, and jotted down the number of bronze plates required, along with the widths. Her eyes were blazing, like a massive furnace burning away. If she were to drool in excitement, Kusla would not be surprised if anyone were to say it was molten metal.

Weyland was guffawing away, and even Kusla had to snicker as he saw Irine completely mesmerized with her work. Suddenly, he turned towards Fenesis, and found her standing unenthusiastically by the side. Just a while back, she was bothered by the change of hairstyle, yet she felt so forlorn while left alone.

Such a troublesome lady, Kusla thought.

“Your hairstyle.”

Kusla finally said something, and Fenesis turned around abruptly.

“It’s fine.”

The white cat then turned her head away immediately.

Though her face could not be seen, her beast ears were twitching.

They were alluring enough for one to tease her, and Kusla grimaced.

There were too many points to tease.

“But don’t laze around. Remember the proportions required well.”

But Kusla did not tease her as he merely continued with the next instruction.

It would have been fine if Fenesis was simply a pet kitten which could be left alone, but she was not one.

“Once we get to Nilberk, the Holy Maiden costume parade will have to end.”

Fenesis obvious appeared miffed, but she obediently paid attentions to the various drawings Irine drew. Goodness me, Kusla shook his head.

While watching Irine do her calculations, Kusla spotted Fenesis fiddling with her hair from the corner of his eye.

How unexpectedly interesting it was. She was enraged when he had said she was unsuited to being a town girl; surely she was vain about her appearance too.

Or perhaps nobody had tidied her hair before, that she never paid much mind into doing so, and it was impossible for her not to care.

Thinking about this, Kusla was instantly sympathetic towards Fenesis. Once he noticed these feelings he had, his lips showed a smile.

It was foolish of him, so he felt, but it was not a bad thing.

Irine was right.

It was better to do a correct thing lazily than to commit a mistake with utmost precision.

So Kusla went to work again, giving pointers to Fenesis from time to time while the latter fidgeted over the calculations.

Three days after leaving Kazan, there were no bandits trying to claim a bounty like before. It appeared they were unorganized mobs unable to last.

The forces silently marched on to Nilberk in the West.

However, having broken through, and no pursuers abound, the group inadvertently went to the next question,

“Say, can we really enter Nilberk once we get there?”

Irine suddenly asked. She spent the entire night remember the shapes and proportions of the dragon, and was calculating the amounts of metal needed at the back of the carriage. Fenesis was seated next to her, crosschecking the numbers.

“…Asking this now?”

Kusla was leaning on the cargo carriage, his head gently resting upon a luggage as he noted,

“No thanks.”

“Huh?”

“Means he doesn’t want to talk about this now~”

Weyland suddenly popped out from nowhere, butting in,

“Presents~.”

Saying that, Weyland placed some flowers on Fenesis’ head, and was about to do the same thing to Irine, only to be met with a cold stare from the latter. While the mercenaries handing the flowers were simply infatuated and acted impulsively, this gesture from Weyland was naturally annoying more than romantic.

Fenesis, still with her Holy Maiden hairstyle, looked elated as she had Weyland place the flowers upon her.

“Did you find some ingredients for poison?”

Irine’s cold stare naturally could not rattle Weyland.

“That would be fine too~”

“Looking for mining veins?”

Kusla said, and Irine started looking jittery for some reason.

“Mining veins?”

“The metal composition in the earth is different, the plants grown will differ, so their colors will differ.”

“Even if I couldn’t find one, it’s a nice trip sightseeing on the hills~”

Weyland said, and sniffed at the points. It was rare to see such flowers during this season.

“…So?”

“Hmm~?”

“Erm, well…what do you mean by he doesn’t want to talk?”

Irine again brought up the same point, and Kusla looked over at Weyland quietly.

Yet Weyland pretended not to hear as he continued to sniff at the flowers.

So Kusla had no choice but to explain,

“Normally thinking about it, Alzen will lead the charge head on.”

He sighed, and looked down at the book he had flipped open, ready to read,

“Nilberk should be besieged by the enemy too, so we’re going to break through into Nilberk the same way we broke the siege at Kazan, through the ranks.”

“If we can fight our way out, we can fight our way back in, so the thought~.”

Weyland quipped.

Irine’s face paled.

“B-but that’s impossible, right?”

Kusla shrugged.

“And that’s why nobody raised this topic.”

You idiot. so Kusla gave a look, and after that, Irine pursed her lips with regret.

Despite this, the direness of the situation was not mitigated in any way.

“Wh-what do we do…?”

Irine was really taken by surprise, and Fenesis cupped the former’s hands. At this moment, the strength and weakness of the two ladies were reversed.

“Anyway, how are you two so casual about this? This feels amiss, right?”

Kusla and Weyland exchanged looks.

“Nothing will change no matter how angsty we are now, right?”

“Wha…”

Irine was speechless.

Kusla stretched his back, and said,

“But even so, the higher ups probably have some contingencies.”

Kusla looked up at the skies, a rare sunny day.

“Anyway, Alzen looked serious when he ordered us to mass produce the dragons. I don’t think that’s the look of someone who’s running away from reality.”

Leaving aside his personality, Alzen was trustworthy as a commander.

“It is so. How about we not worry and have a nice nap~?”

“Absolutely no way.”

Weyland put up a wounded facade, and seeing this, Fenesis gave an awkward smile.

“Go with the flow. That was what you advised.”

Irine was again left speechless, but it was for a different context.

“A vexing person you are.”

She said, and pouted her face as she turned aside. Fenesis continued to hold Irine’s hands, encourage her while turning towards Kusla, giving a perturbed smile.

That was a smile Kusla did not wish to recall.

Instead of one continue to live, both should die together instead.

Utterly preposterous, he covered the book on his face, sighing.

That evening, the group passed the mountains, and through the gaps between the trees and twigs, they spotted the massive silhouette of Nilberk.

The walls were as majestic as the capital city of a duchy, yet everyone looked on grimly, not saying a world. It was due to the many enemies besieging the city. Vast stretches of plains reached out from Nilberk, and typically, herds of sheep could be seen; not today.

As they were still very far away, the crowds could not determine the silhouette of every enemy, yet they could see the size of the army at least. The sunset show upon the rowdy enemy, their armor sparkling, like rusted red iron powder scattered upon a table.

“We’re going to break through?”

Irine was not the only one with such a thought, for everyone else did too.

However, Alzen did not give further instructions, so they could only continue through the ravines. The sky quickly got dark in the forest, and once it started to turn ultramarine, the forces ceased to advance.

After that, Alzen gave the orders to issue the remaining food.

It was the last dinner, so someone said.

“I am…suffering…”

“Just endure.”

“Ah…uu…no…stop…exerting…”

“Lift your leg.”

Kusla pressed down hard on Fenesis’ knee, and the latter gave a strange squeal.

And Kusla too was inadvertently taken aback.

“…Hey.”

He asked worriedly. Fenesis covered her mouth, her ears shivering.

“…Don’t puke ow.”

“Wh-what will happen if I do…?”

Fenesis laid between the luggage, her knees cupped together as she gave Kusla a teary look.

“Your fault for eating too much.”

“Uu.”

“How about your side? I can put a few bronze plates here.”

Kusla turned around to ask; Weyland and Irine were stacking the cargo onto another boat slightly afar.

From sunset till midnight, they disassembled the dragons, and were moving the dragon parts.

“Looks like we can put some here, barely. Once we cover them with the cloth, we should be able to smuggle through. Done dyeing the cloth yet?’

“Dirtied by the dirt~”

“And we have to wear them…no thanks…”

“You’re complaining about a mere piece of cloth? And you could sleep on a piece of cloth covered in soot before a furnace.”

Kusla said with some annoyance and bemusement, and Irine in turn pretended not to hear as she moved the dirt stained cloth onto the cargo.

“Say, won’t the boat capsize with so much liquor?”

“We’ll just drink them all when it happens, that’ll make things lighter~”

“Hm, right. Then…hm?”

Irine folded her arms, looking skeptical, but it appeared she did not realize she was duped.

“Alrighty! Everyone, you ready!?”

Alzen yelled, and everyone looked towards him.

Deep within the forest as a lake surrounded by cliffs on three side; Kusla and the others were by the lakeside.

With the sea eroding away, there was a passage linking the lake in the forest with the sea, through a cave, and there was a hidden natural port there as a result.

The Knights had set up a few boats there, so Kusla and the others brought the parts of the dragons along with some necessities.

However, everyone, including Kusla, were mystified upon see boats in this place devoid of human life, and wondered if Alzen cast some spell. Of course, there was no magic involved in this.

“I repeat, nobody on the boats is allowed to lift their heads. Once we depart to the sea, we will head straight towards Nilberk. While there should not be any enemies patrolling the shore, I cannot guarantee that those with good night vision will not notice anything amiss. Of course, even if we are discovered, the arrows cannot hit us at this distance. Once they find boats, they will deduce that there are ports nearby. Once the port is discovered, all that awaits us is death, and this will corner our brothers rushing here. We broke through the legion of armies besieging Kazan, and came all the way here. We have the protection of God, the spirits, and the War Goddess. This is time for us to exhibit the courage befitting that honor.”

The men nodded firmly, and roared into cheers. Some of them were on the cliffside, yet to board the boats. They were the warriors who risked their lives to stay behind.

While there were boats on the port, they were insufficient in transporting everyone. Perhaps they would be discovered by the enemies, but they adamantly chose to stay back and wait for their comrades.

The mercenaries all volunteered to stay behind with proud looks. If it was for the greater good, they would give their utmost for that cause. This philosophy was not simply empty words to these warriors.

Fenesis was thoroughly grateful to them, and they beamed in response, for this might be the praise they desired.

“Alright, those left behind shall board. Those waiting for the second trip, we shall leave matters in your hands.”

Kusla then laid the dark, dirty cloth over the cargo, and boarded the boat. There were loads of dragon parts on it, and just enough space for Fenesis and him to hide. The boat Weyland and Irine were on was the same.

Kusla said on the cargo, and picked up the oar. They would have to advance with it before they reached the sea.

With her body shriveled, Fenesis laid at Kusla’s feet, and finally, she tucked herself in the gap.

“You look like a cat stuck between the goods.”

Hearing that, Fenesis glared back at Kusla. It seemed a little tremor would cause her to suffer however.

Leaving aside her posture, the main reason why she was in so much pain was probably because she ate too much. There was no time to deal with the rest of the food, so Alzen ordered for the rest of them to be used for dinner. Fenesis felt it was a waste to finish them, and kept eating. They were told they would be boarding a boat, but she probably never expected herself to be squeezing in like this.

“We’re going to do what pirates do now.”

The boat before him entered the cave leading to the sea.

And like them, Kusla rowed the oar, following them.

Nine boats in total, each of them a punt made of dark wood.

The cabins of these boats were built a little deeper, lest the cargo on the boats were to attract attention. It just so happened that they could avoid attention.

So, how did Alzen know that there were boats here? He had them setup here beforehand.

However, his initial plan was that this secret port was to be used after they conquered Kazan.

Once Kazan was taken under their control, the supply lines from the South would probably be unable to fulfill the logistics demand for Kazan, and anything insufficient would have to be mitigated by Nilberk. Alzen had planned for Nilberk to provide some supplies.

Every squad in the Knights had their independent finances, so how would they simply allow the forces in Nilberk to tax them liberally? The Knights, unwilling to share the taxes with their allies, built a secret port here for all to share.

It appeared other forces had used this port when Kusla and the others arrived, for there were crafts with the emblem of the Knights, and the words ‘May God bless You’ engraved upon them. The ones ruling Nilberk probably knew of this secret port, but the investment had paid off, and it did not matter whether the port was revealed. Sometimes greed could save oneself.

Several clouds flowed amidst the starry night sky, the moon appearing from time to time. If possible, it would be better to take action in the middle of the night, but one would fear falling asleep at this point.

Once the boats entered the cave, the waves felt stronger, and the stench of the sea could be scented upon. The bats at the ceiling of the cave were flapping their wings in shock due to the unwelcomed visitors. While the time spent inside the cave was not very long, everyone heaved a sigh of relief once they exited, but just for a moment.

The boat before Kusla rolled its oar towards the pitch-dark coast, like a bunch of reckless fools.

While Kusla had assumed he understood how vast the world was, once the boat arrived atop the sea surface shrouded in the night, he understood.

Humans really were puny, and the world was really vast and cruel. The peaceful sea surface was startlingly tranquil. If there was a ferry to the world of the Dead, surely it would pass by this dead silent sea.

“Sst…sst…”

Suddenly, there was some sounds before him. He looked up, and found the boat before them pulling the oar in, making hand gestures indicating for them to get down.

Before he knew it, the boat had left the shore, and even if they did jump off the boat, they could not return. At such a distance, even Kusla would be feeling uneasy if not for the other boats, and lose all composure.

The second and third boats took in their oars too, and laid down, hidden in the cabin.

All they needed to do next was to go with the flow, and arrive at the port in Nilberk.

Kusla took in his oar, darted into the space he had left for himself, and pulled the dirty cloth over his head.

Due to the parts, the space he left was very uneven, so Fenesis could only lie down with her knees tucked in, while Kusla could stretch his legs wide and lie smoothly. Their heads were just side by side, so he wondered if he should switch his position in the vertically opposite manner. This notion lasted just a moment however, for even he found his thought to be foolish, obviously thinking too much.

He laid down in the gap, covered the cloth over his head, and found Fenesis glancing him unhappily. Surely she was seething, thinking Kusla was being too sly.

“Want to straighten yourself to get to my side?”

Kusla whispered, and sensed Fenesis’ beast ears twitching.

“…Is there space?”

“Above me, or below. Your choice.”

He smiled, and Fenesis eked out a disgusted groan.

“Went numb after sleeping?”

“It-it has nothing to do…with this.”

She stammered, trying to defend herself.

But once she did so, she went silent, and the silence on the boat was screeching at their ears.

The waves on the sea remained calm, with the occasional sound of the tide.

They could not see the outside of the boat, and could not hear anything else.

In the darkness, Kusla widened his eyes, and asked,

“What do we do if we lose sight of the other boats?”

Once he was done saying so, he was surprised with himself. Why did he ask such a question?

He did not ask simply to gain enjoyment from scaring Fenesis,

“…Why are you asking this now?”

“Just asking.”

Kusla answered, and continued on calmly,

“No, when I am alone, I’m always assured on what I should do. Now I am no longer alone.”

Fenesis might have figured out something from his tone, for she fidgeted a little, before saying,

“Anyway, please take off the cloth, stand up, and stretch.”

Hearing her earnest words, Kusla chuckled,

“If we stand up, the boat will capsize.”

“…Then, lie down.”

“Like a cat you are.”

And Kusla imagined Fenesis stretching herself like a kitten after a nap.

“And then?”

Kusla asked again, and Fenesis did not respond.

Is she furious that I call her a cat?

So Kusla wondered, before Fenesis took a deep breath, and said,

“You are not alone after all.”

She sounded miffed. Kusla then understood that she was recollecting the past.

“Experienced similar things?”

So Kusla asked.

“…Once, I hide in a travelling merchant’s cargo.”

Kusla did not ask if she was alone by then, or if she had companions.

In any case, Fenesis was alone, and end of the day, it did not matter.

“What do you intend to do?”

She asked. At this point, their eyes were used to the dark, and even with the cloth covering them, they could vaguely see each other’s silhouette.

While remaining crouched, she stared at Kusla.

“I’ll go check, where we are, what we will do later, what we can do, and,”

Saying that, Kusla reached his hand for Fenesis’ hand, grabbing a bunch of her tied, sily hair,

“Whether our cargo is crying and yelling.”

“…”

Fenesis cringed; perhaps she was fuming.

“I am not crying, not shouting.”

She pouted away, trying to defend herself. Kusla did not giggle, and instead, he said,

“I can understand, somehow.”

It seemed she did not anticipate this answer from Kusla, for she lifted her head in surprise, staring at Kusla intently in the darkness.

“You were smiling when we broke through the siege.”

He fiddled with Fenesis’ hair, saying so. The hair skilfully tied together by Irine was tight and delicate, like a piece of art.

Fenesis herself was not a maiden who would simply tie her hair messily.

And like this hair, she had a proud heart.

“Have you not realized?”

Kusla asked once again upon seeing the lack of reaction, and after a while, Fenesis gently shook her head.

“This…is not good.”

She said.

“I was smiling…even when people were hurt…”

“So why were you smiling?”

He was not adding salt to her wound out of deliberate malice, but simply due to his insatiable curiosity.

What was the mix that caused this scenario? What would happen when Fenesis was dumped in this vessel? Kusla really wanted to know the answer.

He let go of her hair, and patted her head. He could sense the little hand in his palm jolting in shock.

‘I am not angry. Also, God’s teachings are merely hearsay to me.”

“…Please respect God…”

With Kusla pressing down on her head, Fenesis fidgeted about, before answering,

“I feel like I’m still alive.”

She was not elated, joyous. The main basis behind these emotions was that she was still alive. That smile Fenesis showed back then was probably the same, and it left him a little delighted.

“I feel this way.”

Kusla’s response showed no concern for Fenesis’ feelings, and then, he rubbed her head.

“So I thought, back then, you were decent.”

She was not acting like a borrowed cat, and neither was she putting on a mask, and neither was she so terrified that she dared not pursue what she yearned most.

Kusla stopped exerting strength, and simply placed his hand on Fenesis’ head,

“But it isn’t just once that you have fooled me.”

“Ju-just that once.”

Fenesis, pious to God’s teachings, hastily defended herself, as though this was a matter of honor.

But it seemed she had realized she she did dupe Kusla.

And to Kusla, he himself was the fool to be duped.

“And this is why I am relieved.”

Her ears pricked, and his hand felt them.

“What…do you mean?”

“Exactly as I have said.”

Kusla tersely responded, and subconsciously tapped Fenesis on the head.

He was probably feeling gaudy.

But he had to explain,

“I forced you to do something you were unwilling to.”

“…”

The girl suffered loneliness due to her bloodline, and Kusla wanted to use her bloodline as a symbol of calamity to rattle the enemy. While the friendlies had assumed Fenesis was a real fairy, it was a different matter altogether. While breaking out of Kazan, the Knights had to use Fenesis to make up for the inadequate fighting strength. As an Alchemist, Kusla should do everything within his power without remorse, but he hesitated. Fenesis herself accepted this task because of that hesitation, however.

“You are certainly,”

Fenesis said,

“Kind after all.”

“…”

This time, it was Kusla who was speechless, and he could only rub Fenesis on the head. The latter giggled, and he thought that it was great it was pitch dark in the night, for she could not see how miffed he was.

After a while, Fenesis stopped, and placed her hand on Kusla’s. The slender hand felt icy, the skin tender, easily torn if blown upon.

“I am fine.”

In his mind, Kusla imagined her expression as she said those words. Why would she have such an imagination? Such imagination was unexpectedly rational, and relieving.

He let go of her head, and moved his hand towards the side, covering one of her ears.

While teasing her, he would typically grab; instead, he was caressing it carefully, like a fragile item.

“I am an Alchemist.”

Kusla calmly added on,

“If you say so, this is all I can ‘think’.”

The ear in his hand twitched.

Clearly he could sense her anxiety.

On the boat with no one else on board, beneath the cloth the moonlight could not shine through.

The hand Fenesis placed on Kusla’s was laughably damp.

But Kusla was an alchemist.

An Alchemist.

“I discussed this with that jerk Weyland.”

“…Eh?”

“We investigated your race’s past. They brought the lost ancient technology here from the East, and vanished into history as a legend. So i think, other than the dragon shaped flamethrowers, they might have brought other forms of technology over. Amongst them might be the map to Magdala I worked so hard to seek.”

God’s metal, Orichalcum.

The legendary metal, which no one else had seen.

But since the fable of the dragon was with basis, there should be basis for Orichalcum.

“But if you do find it to be suffering…”

Within Kazan, the remains lying by the flamethrowers were undoubtedly the remains of Fenesis’ race. Their feet were shackled with ball and chain.

Seeking their footsteps would certainly mean seeking the forbidden, cursed bloodline, trails of blood. While Fenesis’ wounds were healed in the workshop, doing this might reopen them again.

“Can you endure it?”

Saying that, Kusla slipped his hand from her ear to her shoulder.

She was calm, as though asleep.

She enjoyed this rare moment of kindness from him,

“…I-I am fine.”

“I see.”

Kusla said that, and patted her shoulder encouragingly, before reclining his hand. He felt the hand she placed on his was exerting some strength.

Surely she had something she wanted to say, and they were both close enough to hear each other’s breathing.

And thus, Kusla could no longer suppress his impish heart.

“Speaking of which.”

He said,

“What are you hoping for?”

“!!”

Fenesis pushed him off so hard, she was ostensibly beating him up.

The boat shook, and suddenly, loud splashes occurred.

Even Kusla was taken aback, yet Fenesis’ body was as stiff as a rock. Just a moment back, she made an exaggerated reaction, yet she was all shriveled up, and surely it was not because the boat shook. All Kusla could do was to give a wry smile.

There was no way their lips could meet in this position.

Of course, it was just a figure of speech; if he really tried to kiss her, would she actually push him aside.

He smiled to himself, but he thought to himself that simply wasting this mischief material was not wish it.

Just like the days of his apprenticeship, when he used the furnace, and found gold amongst the soot.

Back then, he used the gold as the clasp of his dagger, and even till this day, he was still using it.

So he thought, if Fenesis was to know he was such a sentimental person…but he had another notion, that it was too late to notice this problem.

It was truly remarkable to encounter this interesting lady, yet he was showing a lethargic smile.

He was probably unwilling to admit this fact.

So he let his thoughts run wild, before a sound suddenly came from afar. ‘Dock the boats by the port’, he could quickly hear someone shout. The boats had arrived in Nilberk.

Nilberk was a major fortress city, and one of the few port cities of Latria.

Kusla had heard that it was fortified with walls all over, and the port between the two gulfs was the entrance. They appeared to be ant feelers, so during the pagan rule, Nilberk was always marked as the ant city.

Once the Knights conquered Nilberk, they continued to develop the city, and at this point, seven roads were linked to the port.

It was unlikely Latria had anticipated such a major port city to be conquered, but they encountered the Knights and the mightiest naval in the world, and were unable to defend it.

Though it was all hearsay, Kusla could sense the despair the Queen of Latria had when Nilberk was taken.

“…Amazing.”

After a moment of stunned silence, Kusla found himself muttering.

He turned his head around, and found Fenesis sitting upright, looking at him.

And he noticed Fenesis tugging at his sleeve.

“But are these…”

Kusla said,

“The Knights?”

There were many ships docked at the massive port of Nilberk. Nobody could identify them as ships at first, and they were all in a panic, wondering why there would be such massive structures on the sea. Once they got closer, they could identify those short, stout silhouettes. With the moonlight shining upon them, the ships looked somewhat alluring, like giants kneeling down.

The black blocks were different from the darkness deep beyond the seas, giving off a sense of surrealism, oppression, and violence. They were showing Kusla and his companions who were the true rulers.

“People.”

Someone shouted from the boat before him. Fenesis hurriedly hid her ears beneath her hood. While the people led by Archduke Kratol accepted her beast ears, the situation in Nilberk was chaotic, and the wise decision was to hide them. In fact, Fenesis was worried the Knights and mercenaries would proclaim them, but luckily, the Archduke had reminded them, The War Goddess is our trump, and we shall have her remain as a secret. Once they heard so, the soldiers abided obediently, for his words ignited their desire to covet and protect the Saint, angel, fairy protecting them. Anything involving the battlefield, and the Knights and mercenaries would become strangely superstition. In fables, fairies would escape once the bottles are opened.

Surely this secret could remain as one.

Kusla looked over at the ship, and found a row of soldiers standing on the deck. There was someone holding a flaming torch on the boat fleet he was on, swinging it rhythmically.

Soon after, the soldiers on the ship deck departed. A moment later, a boat came from the shadow of the ship. Standing foremost was a man with his cloak fluttering, having the same disposition as Alzen. Behind the man were a group of soldiers wielding spears.

Neither side spoke up. Kusla’s arm was aching as Fenesis was clinging onto him hard. She probably had encountered such a scene before.

Soon after, both sides stopped.

The waves remained calm, the silence deafening.

First to speak up was Alzen.

“Reinforcements from Kazan, under Archduke Kratol’s command.”

The term ‘reinforcements’ left Kusla with the urge to laugh.

Such a bunch of vain rulers.

But it appeared to be a little joke.

“Thanks for the support.”

Once he was said, he grinned.

“My brothers, you have arrived.”

At that moment, cheers erupted, and Alzen’s side heaved a side of relief. They could finally escape from the wilderness where the wolves reigned, to the city filled with lights.

Both boats approached each other, and Alzen shook hands with his peer.

“But with these men? Your report states that you escaped with no man left behind.

It appeared they could exchange information secretly.

Perhaps there was an underground passage, like a rabbit hole.

“We had a little too much on the supplies, and not too many people to ferry. Mind lending some boats? The port location might be a little difficult to find.”

“No need for another word, I understand. You lucked into it?”

The Nilberk forces, being besieged, surely would not ignore the existence of a secret port. However, it was due to thi that they could regroup with precious fighting forces.”

“Yes, just so happened to find one. We had the protection of a fairy.”

Alzen calmly answered.

“Hoho. Speaking of which, you brought the fabled dragons?”

The other party started looking at the boats behind Kusla.

“Split up. Three of them, requires fuel. I shall report the details once we enter the town. They should be able to contribute on the battlefield.”

“Looking forward to it. Most importantly.”

The man said, his eyes looking aside to Kusla’s eyes.

“You have brought the expertise and knowledge to build the dragons, and it truly is God’s blessing to us.”

“…Did something arise in the town?”

“Yes. Thus I am looking forward to your fairy protection. But let us discuss this once matters calm down. Our priority now is to welcome our other brothers. The enemy might discover them if we are late, and they do need to rest as soon as possible.”

“We are gracious to our brothers in the Knights.”

“Yes. May God bless the Knights’ crest.”

And so, the boat led Kusla and the others deep into the port.

The sea surface was narrow, and did not seem like a coast, instead like a dock for boats.

While the massive battleships proved that the Knights ability was not to be taken for naught. An Alchemist’s hoax before the Knights would be akin to a child trying to put up a front.

Kusla and the others darted through the massive battleships signifying the wealth and authority of the Cladius Knights, and soon after, they arrived at the port. There was no one there, just heaps of goods.

The pagans in Latria rose for a counterattack a few days ago, so these probably were not shipped in from the South. In other words, these resources were prepared to invade Latria.

Some had said the best form of defense was offense.

“Plans for the counterattack are ready now.”

Kusla was uncertain that the Knights could win when they left the Knights headquarters in Kazan, but one look reminded him that the Knights were still the strongest faction on this world. Again, he realized that the counterattack plan Alzen mention was not mere sleeptalk.

“In any case, we managed to survive.”

Alzen and the others got on shore, and Kusla followed suit. Once he got on, he looked back at the boat, and found Fenesis trudging on, preparing to disembark. It seemed she was still rattled by the majesty of the battleships.

Seeing this, Kusla had the urge to tease her.

And Fenesis immediately puffed her cheeks and glared at Kusla, but the latter did not mind, instead reaching his hand out to Fenesis.

“Too slow.”

She looked back and forth between his hand and face.

And then, with a displeased look, she grabbed his hand.

“Always so mischievous.”

“But you are holding my hand.”

Hearing that, her green eyes flickered, and she looked up at Kusla tauntingly.

“Is this the shameless of an alchemist you speak of?”

Kusla chuckled, but not to tease her.

On the contrary.

“It certainly is.”

Saying that, he pulled her onto shore.

Her body was stiff, probably as she was stuck on the boat for long, and she sorted her wrinkled clothes, limbering herself from time to time.

Weyland and Irine too followed suit, hammering their waists like old folks.

“That was rough~”

“Never did this since the last time I was told off by master and hid inside the furnace…”

Both of them grumbled, sounding lethargic.

“But, well~”

Weyland stretched himself, and said to both Kusla and Fenesis,

“You two really have been going at it, huh~?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t play dumb. Ain’t your boat rocking~?”

Weyland leered, but it was merely a stupid joke.

“She begged for it. I can’t say no here.”

“Ohh?”

Irine understood what the two men meant, and could only give a stupefied smile.

“Enough with the jokes…”

Both Irine and Weyland looked down at Fenesis, whose voice went soft,

“Kusla?”

Weyland gave a serious look.

And Fenesis lowered her head bashfully,

“Are you an idiot?”

Kusla was disgruntled as he responded, only for the Fenesis to smack his arm once, twice, thrice.

“Hey, what’s with you?”

“Y-you–”

While hammering away at Kusla, she groaned,

“You are absolutely deplorable!”

With the incredulous looks upon her, Fenesis stormed off, and Irine frantically gave pursuit.

I didn’t do anything, did I?

So Kusla watched them leave, wondering.

So he scratched his head, thinking. Perhaps…

“She’s angry at you because you didn’t do anything~”

His elbow on Kusla’s shoulder, Weyland noted,

“…”

Kusla narrowed his eyes at Weyland’s face that was inches away from him, and then looked towards where Fenesis and Irine left.

“Just like an alchemist.”

“You are an apprentice here, Kusla~”

“Huuuh?”

He glared back, and Weyland chortled as he removed his elbow. Alzen’s soldiers were hastily removing the dragon parts from the boat, and some Nilberk soldiers hastily gathered upon hearing there were new forces. The port at night immediately got rowdy.

Kusla sighed reluctantly, and left the harbor. While Fenesis’ words were foolish, she was right. He really felt alive.

Once he saw the scornful leer on Kusla’s face, Weyland hastily gave chase, and asked, “what’s with that smile?” Kusla kicked the annoying Weyland aside, and gave chase after the two ladies.

He felt alive.

Surely this is the value of living on this world, so he thought.

Act 2

The inn the four of them stayed at was posh, and there was a fine fireplace installed.

As Alzen had promised, if they could escape Kazan unscathed, he would satisfy any of their wishes as reward.

Naturally, being assigned a good living place alone was unable to satisfy Kusla, but again, he had trouble deciding.

“What shall I have as a reward?”

He had a nice sleep until the following morning. While the four of them were used to waking up early due to their profession, every one of them slept till after the sun rose. Even then, they were completely lethargic. Perhaps this was the relief borne out of their survival.

Once breakfast was served to their room, Kusla raised the issue about their reward.

“Don’t you want a workshop?”

Irine said, dousing the quality, salty butter onto her bread in large slabs. Fenesis would typically be watchful of how she would eat, and would tear the bread into pieces before eating, but at this point, even she was focused on chewing.

“A smelting fool you are.”

Kusla stared at Irine with a wry look, and the latter raised her eyebrows furiously, glaring back.

“All we need now is a workshop. This is the reason why I left Kazan with you folks? What else are you asking me?”

“We still have no idea if we can settle down in this city. Even if we do make such an outrageous request, if something happens thereafter, we will have to haggle with the Knights again.”

“Uu…I see…ahh, but, think about it. Don’t we have to build more dragons? Isn’t it reasonable to ask them for a workshop?”

It appeared Irine had the urge to smelt no matter what.

“Same here. I have a burning desire to light a fire in the furnace~”

Weyland had a nice etiquette when eating, and he was slicing the boiled beef shoulder elegantly, sandwiched them between two slices of bread, and then cut them thinly.

“Really? How understanding of you, Mr Weyland.”

“It’s been only a week…”

Kusla grumbled away, feeling peeved, and Weyland served the bread onto Irine and Fenesis’ plates, before sighing.

Alchemists nowadays are so unbecoming, so he appeared to be saying.

“Also, I have been watching the outside.”

“Hm?”

“There are many of our ranks walking outside. Most of them must have escaped from other towns~”

In other words? The answer was obvious.

“The smiths in this city must be bustling~.”

Weyland’s eyes were glittering, and Kusla looked back with annoyance, seemingly disagreeing with what he said.

This time, Irine spoke up,

“Anyway, why are you so listless?”

Irine would call Weyland by his name, and would only address Kusla as ‘you’. While Kusla was miffed by this, he did owe Irine a favor back in Kazan.

Nothing good comes out of anything involving a woman, so he thought.

“I have nothing against the workshop itself, but I prefer books to smelting.”

“Eh?”

“There’s definitely loads of knowledge in this massive city. Just like Kazan though, we don’t know when we will have to leave this chaotic city. If the forces are to leave, us alchemists might have to be taken away too, but I don’t think they will allow us to bring our books along. Also, the most effective method to scour this knowledge is to send in a human wave.”

“Hm…”

“Well, there’s someone here who can’t be an effective fighting strength.”

Kusla was expressing his displeasure of Irine using ‘you’ to address him, and getting back at her.

“Oho. And who is it you have to thank for finding the dragon tapestry?”

Hearing that, Kusla stabbed a knife into the beef shoulder, looking offended.

While Weyland and him could have found it if they spent some time, but was working together not supposed to be for the sake of saving time?”

“Erm.”

At this moment, Fenesis spoke up.

“Do you require my assistance?”

Though she had offered to help, she sounded pretty unwilling. Perhaps she was still peeved about the events that transpired the previous day.

Also, he could sense pity in her tone, and glanced at her with displeasure.

“Little Ul and Kusla shall check the books, while little Irine and I shall light the furnace. It’s decided then~”

“Hey.”

Weyland popped the last piece of bread into his mouth, and stood up.

“Leaving aside the fact that we might not be able to get a workshop, we do need a furnace to make the dragons. This is obviously little Irine’s specialty~”

“Mind not calling me little Irine?”

“Nooooo~~”

Weyland hollered away with a grin, and while Irine looked displeased, she too stood up.

Also, it did seem her displeasure had nothing to do with Weyland.

“Uu, so unenthusiastic here.”

“You should have eaten enough~.”

“That’s not the issue. Uu…I just feel lethargic…never mind. Should be able to buck up before the furnace.”

She was a little confused, but managed to convince herself accordingly.

Weyland then quickly led Irine out of the room.

The four of them splintered into two groups, headed for their responsibilities.

Thus, Kusla said to the white girl who was left behind.

“Hurry with your food.”

“…I have to be gracious when eating.”

It appeared Fenesis was still not in the mood, so Kusla had his chin resting on his hand, the elbow on the table as he watched her, sighing away.

It was quiet inside the inn, but bustling outside.

Half of the people on the streets were muscular soldiers, while the rest were merchants, craftsmen. They differed in age, physique and gender, and most of them had escaped here from different towns, so even in the same professions, they would have minor differences in hairstyle and clothing. It was a blend of many varieties.

There was probably one common point, if any, amongst them.

“Everyone seems to be busy.”

Though peeved, Fenesis was not vexed to the point of being unwilling to speak to Kusla.

He recalled their first encounter.

“I remember you were holding things with both hands…so.”

Kusla grabbed Fenesis by the back of her neck, and pulled her back. A carriage crammed with pigs and chicken coops stumbled before the inn doors. Following that, another carriage passed by, filled with fresh sardines, probably caught in the morning. The men on the cargo wasted no time as they started salting them. Following them were two carriages loaded with iron crates. Following that, two lackeys were blushing as they pulled a carriage of wooden materials by.

Nilberk was lively, and definitely not a place for the defeated to gather.

Kusla took a deep breath of the chaotic, musky air of the city, his lips curled into a smile.

These were the Knights.

“Everyone is working hard preparing for the counterattack. Producing grain, creating weapons, sewing clothes, building carriages, horse tacks. There are also various materials to blend and refine too. Lots of things to do, in fact.”

The passers-by hurried along, and the streets were like a wooden vat filled with clothes, churned about once again. Kusla let go of the back of Fenesis’ neck, and she quietly put on her veil again.

“Let’s go.”

Saying that, Kusla entered the crowd, and Fenesis hastily gave pursuit.

“Erm, where are we headed to?”

“To buy bread, we go to the bakery. To buy clothes, we go to the clothes shop. To check books however, we cannot head to the bookshop. What they sell are pointless. We need to get a key to the archives.”

“…Please do not overexert yourself.”

Fenesis reminded worriedly. As there were too many people, she kept clinging onto him.

“The way you say it, it does seem I do only use forceful means.”

“You may omit the ‘seem’.”

It was rare for Fenesis to retort. Was she still seething over the previous night? Kusla however merely shrugged at this.

“I do not wish to be lectured by you on this.”

“Huh? Wh-what do you mean? I have never done been forceful.”

Fenesis puffed her cheeks as she said so, glaring hard with her emerald eyes widened.

With a cold stare, Kusla looked down at her.

“How dare you say so after all the preposterous things you have then.”

“Th-that was…”

Fenesis grumbled, and then withered off.

“I had no choice.”

After which, she said this. Kusla let out a snicker upon seeing this. He would be in loads of trouble if he let his guard down and be troubled by these maiden-like words. So troublesome, yet so interesting.

Later on, they went through the streets and alleys, daring through the bustling city.

Kusla had assumed Nilberk was simply a metropolis of a bustling city, but once he exited the inn, he saw people whose profession involved fighting, and realized this was the frontlines.

Four, five mercenaries and Knights were standing at a cross junction, either to maintain security of the city, or to simply laze around.

Their faces were strangely stiff. Perhaps they were watching an enemy spy.

Kusla and Fenesis went right towards the center of the city.

And as they passed by a mercenary hold spears.

“Hey, both of you.”

The mercenary had white hair, and a beard as stiff as wires, one resembling needles stabbed into it by a mischievous lad. One spear was heavy enough, but this mercenary was holding a bundle of ten on his shoulder.

His arm was probably as thick as Fenesis’ waist.

“Is this not our Goddess? Where are you headed?”

He appeared to be one of the mercenaries who broke out of Kazan. Kusla remembered he was not around when they boarded the boats; it appeared the people who stayed behind made it safely.

“We’re looking for Alzen.”

“Ohh, I shall lead you then.”

“He’s probably in the middle of the city. You don’t have to trouble yourself.”

“Please don’t say so. I wish to offer whatever I have to repay you.”

The gruff mercenary appeared capable of cleaving enemies along with their armor with his axe, yet he was showing a genial smile to them.

A mere few days of traveling together, and Kusla could infer that he was not a bad person. Character-wise, they might be a lot better than the Alchemists.

Kusla shrugged, “please lead the way”.

“But it is careless of Lord Alzen to not assign you a carriage.”

“Our Goddess here has no interest in a carriage that does not breathe fire.”

“Oho, I see.”

Fenesis smacked Kusla on the arm, but the latter naturally did not care.

“But back in Kazan, given my experience, we were probably doomed for real, and I couldn’t see any hope. That speck of light at the end was too dazzling.”

“We didn’t have any hope either. Never thought we could build that sort of thing. It’s a rare experience, for one.”

“Haha, I see. That really was a miracle on the battlefield. The beauty of the war goddess probably can’t be conveyed with words, no matter the era of the author. It is an honor to walk upon the same land as Her.”

The mercenary did not intend for it as a snip, nor as a joke. He was praising her from the bottom of his heart.

Fenesis inadvertently shriveled upon being praised. The genial mercenaries were probably all like this, simple, bold, honest.

“Anyway, have you seen the outside of the city?”

There is an amazing statue outside I want you to see.

That was the tone the mercenary spoke with.

“Hm? Is there anything worth seeing outside the city?”

“Hoho. There is one. There is an army the enemy had sent with vindication.”

“…I see. Are they amazing?”

Kusla asked, and the mercenary merely flexed the arm not holding anything.

“The enemy is not worth fearing.”

Those that feared death would never step upon the battlefield. When venturing the battlefield however, soldiers would use anything to pray for victory. Some might think that if they feared death, they should not step onto the battlefield, and that the soldiers’ actions were hypocritical.

They venture the battlefield, so that they would day. They often said that a battlefield they could not die on was not one worth dying on.

For the mercenary with this mentality, the enemy was not worth fearing.

Kusla chuckled,

“Trying to get an easy victory, huh?”

“With you around, we can fight off a thousand.”

The mercenary turned around, smiling, with no other intent.

Such honesty left Kusla smiling, and he looked over at Fenesis, pondered a moment, and said,

“That Alzen intends to mass produce the dragons. You people might end up out of business.”

“Ahaha. If that happens, that is fine too. If I don’t have a chance to step onto the battlefield, I shall be a spearmaker then.”

Saying that, the mercenary tapped the spear on his shoulder.

“Also, the soldiers in this city are a little timid, so please use the blazing fires to embolden them.”

After a pause, Kusla said to the mercenary,

“Do the war-hardened soldiers fear the enemies outside the city?”

“Well, please do not underestimate us here. No matter how many thousands of them we have, we do not fear battling. Our fellow comrades should be the same. However, while we don’t fear a strong foe, we do fear.”

“Oh?”

“Once our comrades entered this city, none of us had a motivation.”

Irine did mention this before.

“There is nothing more terrifying than a quiet city.”

The mercenary glanced diagonally upward, narrowing his eyes as he depicted the place as a barren wasteland purged by the flames of war. In fact, the city was so bustling, it was messy. This was probably an expression of speech by him, so Kusla thought.

But Fenesis suddenly said,

“It is pitiful when there is no bell chime in the city.”

“Bell?”

Kusla looked back to ask, and the mercenary turned towards her, smiling like an amicable bear familiar with humans.

“The soldiers do not wish to step upon the battlefield, when there is no blessing of the bell to be heard.”

The mercenary’s words caused a realization within Kusla.

The latter finally realized why the four of them woke up late.

The bell chime of the city was a natural occurrence to them, and he never realized this.

“There has to be a reason why there is no bell chime, right?”

Hearing that, the mercenary gave an awkward smile.

“Some have said it was the will of God.”

“God’s?”

“While I personally am unwilling to believe this, but the facts remain, and the troops stationed here are convinced of it. Eh…we probably won’t be able to mount a counterattack if this keeps up.”

No matter how dire the situation before them, once their master gave the command, they would charge in with reckless abandon.

And this mercenary, who lived his life based on such a principle, actually said such words of weakness.

For a moment, Kusla was at a loss of what to do. The mercenary bucked himself, expelled the pessimism off his face, and puffed his chest, saying,

“But our War Goddess has a brilliant great alchemist, and this city surely can hear the bell again. By then, we can be showered in some of that glory.

After saying that, the mercenary guffawed.

Kusla looked back at him silently.

The bell.

The trio passed the streets, and arrived on the road leading to the center of the city.

The massive silhouette of the cathedral appeared before them, proclaiming that God’s teachings had arrived at this point.

There was a massive tower at its top, and at the apex–

“It was said that the bell of this city shattered soon after it was built.”

The mercenary narrowed his eyes as he said so,

“It’s rumored that God has abandoned us.”

There was no bell to be seen on the bell tower covered in vines.

Surely, the absence of something that should exist there would trigger an uneasiness amongst people.

“Lord Alzen is in there. Do you need me to make a report?”

“You can’t enter while holding these spears. This should be enough. Thank you.”

“Just a trivial matter. No worries.”

The mercenary smiled, informed them he was bringing the spears to the craftsmen, and departed.

The headquarters of the Knights was to the east of the dome in the city. Its doors were opened, and the busy people hurried in and out. To deploy an entire city for battle, there was a need for a signal caller, the brains of a commander.

These people before him were entering and exiting while carrying loads of goods, and that place should be the entrance to the command post.

The entrance was to the north of the plaza, and opposite it was the cathedral.

Kusla stood at the entrance, and looked up at the bell tower. At this moment, Fenesis asked,

“Are those words real?”

Kusla lowered his head towards her, and saw her strangely uneasy, and asked,

“The enemies outside the city?”

She shook her head.

“What I am saying is, has this city been forsaken by God?”

To Fenesis, it was likely that being forsaken by God was a more pressing issue.

However, to the unknowing fools, the cathedral bell that was broken soon after it was built certainly was a bad omen.

The person welcoming them did mention something happened in the city when they arrived at the port in the middle of the night, that they needed the blessings of the alchemists and the fairy.

This was probably what he was referring to.

“Let’s go.”

Kusla tersely responded, and entered the building.

There were many clerks crammed in the building, their weapon being the quilt, and they looked on grimly, hurrying here and there. There were a few passers-by too, mostly dressed in fur coats of nobility. If the Knights were to evacuate from Nilberk, these were the ones who should be evacuated first.

The highly ranked people entered and exited with grim looks on their faces, and it appeared the Knights intended to use this place as base to signal the start of the counterattack.

Kusla pulled aside one of the clerks, and mentioned Alzen’s name.

While the clerk did not know Alzen, after asking around, he knew where Alzen was. He led Kusla and Fenesis to Alzen’s room, his office.

The room Alzen borrowed had its windows shut tightly.

“…Pretty early you are.”

He was chatting with someone else, and upon seeing Kusla’s entrance to the room, he blinked in surprise.

“The sun had risen for a long while.”

“Ah, I did send a messenger to call for you. Probably missed you.”

Kusla shrugged.

Alzen handed a parchment to the person he was chatting with, and waved the latter out. Once the door was shut, he spoke up again.

“But are you not going to rest? You may venture in the city, you know?”

Alzen said, looking dumbfounded.

“We should be the one asking this. You look busy.”

Alzen and Kusla had both experienced this exodus of death, and unlike Kusla, Alzen had to analyze the formations and concern himself with the safety of their escape. The amount of stress he accumulated along the way was in no way describable. Surely on this morning, he was busy with administrative duties.

But he merely let out a chuckle.

“This might be my…what is that called? Magdala?”

Once he heard the word Magdala from Alzen’s mouth, Kusla was taken aback.

The teasing look from Alzen seemed extremely intimate.

Despite being bogged down by his duties, he did not have to scamper while fearing for his life. This relief might have calmed him down somewhat.

“The Archduke and I cannot bear to deal with the usual, boring city life. Only by venturing through the turbulent rapids do we feel alive. Of course, toil is inevitable.”

The grizzled Heralding officer was nothing more than that. The passion for work was no different from an alchemist.

Alzen being so frank with Kusla might be down to him viewing the latter as a fellow soldier who lived and died together with him since the exodus.

“So, is there anything? You are not here just to gain my favor, no? Or are you here to ask when will there be a ship departing for the South, and wish to board?”

“Is there any escape plan?”

Kusla asked. Alzen raised his chin, stared back, and said,

“None.”

Nice superior I have. Kusla quietly noted.

“Besides, a war of this scale is unprecedented, one for the records. There is no reason not to witness, no?”

The moguls dressed in fur coats all had the desire to show off, as befitting their positions.

And Kusla gave a hearty smile.

“One mercenary showed us the way here. Said there are some enemies who can fight.”

“Hmph. Go witness if you may. You might be motivated once you do.”

Kusla’s smile face,

“That amazing?”

“The enemy is being serious here. It’s extraordinary that they can amass so many in such a short time.”

Seeing Alzen’s honest praise, Kusla was stunned.

And with a fearless smile, Alzen asked, “Surprised?”

As for as Kusla knew, when praising someone, Alzen would either be making a mockery of one, or to exert pressure.

But the smile never faded, as he took a deep breath, paused, and said,

“Deploying troops is basically a complicated puppet show being played. It would be easy if deploying them simply meant handing money to the mercenaries and telling them to defeat the approaching enemies. In fact, deploying troops mean that you have to hire and manage people from various lands, some of them from places you have never witnessed before. You also have to prepare the bare minimum of armaments, prepare food, and also initiate the logistics for horses, carriages and people to deliver them here. Everything here is rather complicated. Leaving aside management, you need specialists to gather the food, materials to repair weapons and patch clothes, and you need carriages to transport the goods. Finally, you need to pay these people salaries. This will require an exchange of currencies. You will need lots of money changers, and they need scales, wooden boxes, places to store the currencies, and transport carriages. Also, these people have to eat, and you need to provide all their needs. Finally, you do need thousands of carriages. Furthermore, you need a comprehensive monitoring of the logistical operations, and that will require twenty to thirty people. So, where are you going to find skilled, literate people? Who is going to manage them? How are you going to arrange for their lodgings? Where are their workplaces? What about food? You cannot swallow large slabs of meat, so you need to cut them into small bits and cook it over the fire. A nice, cut beef shoulder will cook well, but unfortunately, the reality is that our forces are not as straightforward as this beef shoulder, they have brains and mouths. They all think they are better than the man next to them, and there will be quarrels from time to time. This time, you will have to mediate in their squabbles, console and coax them, encourage them to work hard, and have them mentally prepared for battle. Also, these people are all battle-hungry people. This is why I firmly believe that the establishment of an organization like the Knights is surely because the omnipotent, all-knowing God is silently supporting us.

Alzen rattled on, and smiled at Kusla.

“The enemy is as outstanding as we are in this regard. If I have to say that they are good at battling, I do agree.”

This incident was not simply a hasty raid organized by the local nobles of the mining town Kazan against the Knights. Kusla knew this well, but he had no in-depth knowledge of the entire predicament.

But once he saw Alzen standing before him, he finally understood.

There was something surpassing human intelligence being the driving force behind everything.

People called it the struggle for power.

“Good rivals can cause life to be filled with thrill. I am elated. Are you here for your reward? Just in time.”

That was probably the equivalent of one too excited to sleep the night before all issues were resolved.

And as for whether that called for a hearty drink later, they still had to deal with pressing matters before them.

“Mind telling us the bad news? I suppose something happened since you called us here?”

Kusla asked, and Alzen raised an eyebrow.

“Hmm, you wish to hear why you are summoned? Another two are not around. I suppose they are down to the workshops?”

As to be expected of a leader watching over his men, it appeared he had determined Weyland and Irine’s personalities.

“Everyone knew about this, and you two probably have.”

“The cathedral bell?”

Alzen did not seem alarmed as he chuckled. It seemed an opponent he could go all out against left him delighted.

“This matter is a talking point in the city.”

He continued with a smile, but Kusla could tell that he was smiling not because it was an interesting matter.

But that it was so tricky that he had to smile.

“I heard the bell was shattered soon after it was built.”

“Yes. Many are afraid, saying that God had abandoned us.”

Alzen said, saying,

“These warriors are particularly superstitious. Their utter confidence in the Goddess had surpassed my expectations.”

Fenesis received a stare from Alzen, and shivered nervously.

“But we cannot simply ignore this. This does involve our cause for the war after all. Without it, we cannot start one, no matter how much of the complex logistical operations we control.”

“If the forces are to strike back from a city God has forsaken, does this mean they are not the forces sent by God?”

“Exactly. The people of the Church in this city too are alarmed. Even though they aren’t on our side that is deemed as heretics, without God’s salvation upon this city they live in, they will be deemed as heretics too.”

“And the ones in charge of hanging the bell is the Church, right?”

“When the bell is crafted, the priests would be on site to bless it. It was a colossal failure on their part.”

Alzen flatly noted.

The Church and the Knights were different organizations with the same religion, and some had described them as infants fighting for the breasts of the Holy Mother. Kusla himself felt that the person perpetrating this war was the Archbishop leading the Church.

“But ultimately, we are both living within the same city, with the same beliefs. Before this grand war that will be recorded in the annals of history, the requirement for our reputation to stand out is more important. Thus, we cannot simply import a bell from elsewhere, and neither can we secretly build one. Our cause will be in question. A sword has its limits, capable of proclaiming its justice only within its range; words and rumors however can reach thousands of yards away.”

Kusla nodded firmly. It was for this reason that he loved books and knowledge.

“About the bell, what do you think?”

Alzen asked, his attitude a stark difference from when he had Kusla inspect the bloodied armor in Kazan. Perhaps it was because he trusted the latter after all that was accomplished.

“The people here really seem to really believe in God.”

Kusla teased Fenesis, before giving a serious answer,

“Simply put, it is a question of luck.”

“Luck?”

“For metal creations, the creation of a bell is considered particularly difficult. When coagulating copper and tin, if there is too much tin, it will be very brittle, but at the same time, the sound made is extremely crisp. This is basically a test of the builders’ faith in God.”

“Can you build a good bell?”

“Build?”

Kusla raised an eyebrow. Smelting was a blacksmith’s specialty, and there was no room for an alchemist to perform.

But Alzen answered,

“If we can mass produce the dragons, and succeed in building a bell under the name of our cause, we can receive quite the stature in this city. Do imagine the feeling of us basking in the glory.”

“…”

Is he trying to incite me to work?

Kusla immediately got wary. Alzen snorted in bemusement.

“Do you think this is a trivial matter? Have you seen what is going on in this city?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just as what I have said. So many are preparing for a war. There are more than five thousand soldiers from twenty three cities gathered here, and already nineteen alchemists. So many are trying to unite and counterattack, conquer this country. Can you imagine this? How excited am I to have this biggest opportunity in my life.”

Alzen sputtered off, and it seemed he was a lot more agitated than he was in Kazan.

Back in Kazan, he was discussing the possibility of defeat and survival.

At this point, he was discussing the scope of their victory.

Alzen could no longer supper his desires, just as Kusla could not suppress his curiosity.

“If we are to miss out on the opportunity now.”

Like a wild beast, he stared at Kusla.

“We shall regret this for the rest of our lives.”

Kusla liked Alzen as a person.

This man before him was of the same ilk.

“However, it remains a fact that creating a bell is a blacksmith’s expertise.”

“…Continue with what you have to say.”

“The method to build one is no longer a secret; it is simply down to the skills of a blacksmith. While there are often cases of failure, there will inevitably be a success. This is not a case of turning lead into gold. It is akin to drawing lots until one hits the jackpot.”

“Some have suspected there is no jackpot. This is what I am afraid of”

“What do you mean?”

Alzen had calmed down by the time Kusla asked,

“Till now, we have a lot of empty lots. A few more, and the people’s skepticism will become conviction.”

“…These blacksmiths have it rough.”

Kusla blurted out his thoughts, and Alzen snorted.

“The blacksmiths are all terrified, and do not dare to build a bell.”

“They are worried that if the bell build is to shatter, they will have to bear responsibility.”

“Correct. So are the clerics of the Church. If there is no confidence of success, they will not build the bell. While you do think building a bell is no secret, the other alchemists do not feel the same. They are seeking the one way to hit the jackpot. It is to be expected how desperate they are, for they too anticipate the rewards that await.”

Kusla was speechless.

Seeing his response, Alzen turned stone-faced.

“…Do you not have a solution?”

“I am not omnipotent.”

Kusla tersely responded. With the smile of a flickering light, Alzen waved his hand.

“Well, whatever. You do have a capable blacksmith with you.”

“She should be up for the job.”

Irine specialized in smelting high quality goods when given specific procedures. Alchemists need to know the way to smelt them.

“Then, since there is nothing else for you to do, is there anything you wish for as a reward?”

It was Kusla’s turn to chuckle. He knew Alzen was joking.

“There should be a library in the cathedral. I wish to obtain permit to browse them.”

“Hm?”

This time, Alzen looked mystified. He was not acting.

“Have you not heard what I have said?”

“What?”

“There are nineteen alchemists in this city. Nineteen like you are already a hassle. The city is chaotic enough, and now we have nineteen going about inciting all kinds of preposterous issues. It’s said that the valuable books were ravaged, and even the houses of nobility were not spared. Those people sent to account the rich’s properties for taxation have lamented that their libraries were raided.”

Of course, so Kusla thought.

“I have informed the people of Nilberk that I would be bringing two alchemists along, and they begged for me not to allow you to cause mayhem. If you want those precious books, go look for those alchemists holed up at the craftsmen streets.”

Hearing that, Kusla merely shrugged.

“So that means that if we want to read, we can just go around doing so?”

“…”

Alzen stared at Kusla intently, and said,

“Do you suppose there is a hidden library in this city?”

“No?”

Kusla answered.

The mystified look on Alzen’s face remained, and it seemed he had understood Kusla’s response as the alchemist’s stubbornness.

“Fine by you. If anyone stops you, just use my name. If that does not work,”

He paused, and then added on,

“You may use the Archduke’s name.”

“That…”

Kusla was a little surprised, at a loss of words,

“This is quite a hefty reward.”

“Your contributions are worth this much. Those soldiers…are not the only one who believed in that miracle.”

Alzen said this as he looked aside.

He was hiding his embarrassment, as though even the devil would mock him.

However, Alzen was simply acting as a common person who treasured his own life, showing gratitude to Kusla and the others for assisting in their escape. As he had to interact with many every day and deal with loads of information, he might have realized this simple reality was so rare and precious.

Kusla bowed politely.

“Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Hmph.”

As the duo left the room, Fenesis asked impatiently,

“Let us go investigate on the bell.”

Without saying anything, Kusla closed the door.

“Just like a child.”

While people would say the processions of a festival is lively, if one was to view a war as a festival, there would be nothing on this world he would fear. Kusla had a feeling he had witnessed the real Alzen beneath the mask, and while thinking about it, he sensed a sense from Fenesis next to him.

“What is it?”

The pretty green eyes narrowed him blankly.

“Just like you.”

“Hmph.”

In the past, Kusla would have smacked her on the head for such banter, but only this time did he not.

“It’s true that alchemists of the past have said that curiosity represents a childish heart.”

Hearing that, Fenesis pretended to be pleased, and sighed away.

“But he is expecting too much of others. Probably thinks that alchemists are omnipotent.”

In such a situation, if Kusla was to build a bell successfully, he would surely be famous. This time, he did not want to interfere. The construction of a bell was already fixed, and there was no room for an alchemist to nitpick. The crafting process was more of a blacksmith’s job, and an alchemist had no room to interfere.

With regards to this, his companion Irine would have more confidence, and she just so happened to be on the craftsmen streets.

He simply needed to assign the mission to her, and wait for the rewards.

Thus, his main aim was still the cathedral’s archives.

Though he had heard that the other alchemists had raved it, it had nothing to do with him.

“I say.”

As they exited the Knights’ building and went towards the tower without the bell, Fenesis suddenly spoke up,

“Is the bell…really just about luck?”

Kusla looked over at the uneasy Fenesis, and sighed weakly. This little girl showed no fear after hearing there were enemies outside the city, yet she dithered over this.

Of course, Kusla was the same. It was not his job to deal with the enemies outside, and it would be a waste of time to bother with that. Kusla was in no mood to make meaningless prayers, and had no intend to escape the inevitable.

However, there was another issue regarding the bell.

“If luck says this is up to God, I might say this city is forsaken.”

Kusla’s response seemed to have angered Fenesis, and she shrank back, feeling peeved.

Her face showed some anxiety.

“And it is best for you not to get involved.”

“Eh?”

Fenesis lifted her head, but Kusla paid her no heed as he said,

“This is not what an alchemist should be involved with, and it will easily lead people astray. Of course, if you know what the problem is, you can try.”

“…”

“Understand?”

Fenesis clearly did not appear to understand, but Kusla had reemphasized on this logic over and over again. Having been lectured by him an umpteenth time, she would obediently listen to him, even though she would feel tentative about it.

“Under, stood…”

“Not this. We have proper matters to attend to.”

“…”

Fenesis tried to form some words, trying to say something, and Kusla glared at her, not permitting her to say anything.

This topic could have ended at this point, but Kusla took off, saying,

“If there is a valuable stone, the value only you know of, you can turn an ordinary riverbank into a hill of gold.”

Fenesis followed Kusla from two steps behind, looking devoid of confidence, as though saying she could not accept what Kusla was talking about.

The latter looked back at her, shrugging,

“I know what is hidden under your veil, and I know some of the secrets behind it. The secrets might be the key we need to find gold from the pile of ordinary rocks.”

In fact, they had developed a dragon-shaped flamethrower.

Hearing that, Fenesis immediately gave haste, and walked next to him, as though having agreed with him.

“Are we going to investigate the history of this city?”

Fenesis will was burning a little at this point.

“That’s how it is, partner.”

He said mockingly, of course, but Fenesis merely snorted.

Books were highly valuable items, and sometimes, they could be exchanged for gold of equivalent weight. Thus, the blacksmith guild, the richest in Kazan, would have an archive in their guild. In an ordinary city, most books would be concentrated in the church or a monastery.

Churches and monasteries had loads of books stored due to financial reasons, and also because they were stone structures, that in the rare case of a fire, the books could be preserved.

The doors of the Nilberk cathedral were opened, and the people entering and exiting were endless.

While the Church and the Knights had lots of squabbles, it was simply an issue of who was the ruler, and had nothing to do with the people. Even in wartime, the church would still be a popular place.

The people visiting the cathedral were mostly its citizens, there to pray. Some were soldiers of the Knights however. The Knights had no designated place to pray, so all prayers had to be done at the cathedral. There were offerings inside, even at the imagery of the saints sculpted upon the stone pillars. Such would be a classic example of faith being stronger in times of crisis.

“Have you visited this cathedral to pray for blessings?”

A youth dressed in long robes hurried towards them. Another person in similar garb received offertories from the believers, and handed a lit candle to one of them. There was a coin box by their side, meant to raise funds to build the bell. It seemed the Church was hurriedly raising funds while trying to regain its honor for the many failures.

“We will like to visit the archives.”

“…What books are you looking for?”

The youth was instantly alert, but did not refuse outright. There were probably a few like Kusla who came by, so he probably knew it was a waste of effort to refuse.

“Is there any text relating to the establishments of this church?”

It was such an unexpected reply, and the youth was startled.

“Huh…ah, my apologies. The church’s chronicles are on the open shelves. Head this way down the corridor, and they are by the winding corridor.”

“Understood. Oh, and also.”

“Wh-what is it?”

The youth pulled his neck back nervously.”

“Do I need to bring a candle in?”

“If you wish to express your thanksgiving to God.”

“That will depend on the contents of the book.”

It appeared the youth had no idea how to respond, and merely bowed deeply.

“Not buying one?”

Kusla was about to walk off, but Fenesis asked,

“No need for one. I had a look outside. There are glass windows here.”

Kusla ignored the sanctuary with the alter, for as the youth said, he was to go straight to the winding corridor rounding the Cathedral. There was a thick door between the corridor and the winding corridor, and while it was a prohibited area, it was not locked.

The archives of a church could be classified in two categories. One would be a treasury built underground or behind an altar, with the entrance locked, while the other was a winding corridor free for all to wander.

The books of dangerous content, or pricey books, would be placed within the locked archives. Those of ordinary content, free for anyone of status to browse, would be within the winding corridor archives.

What Kusla sought was the latter.

The left winding corridor was facing the west, and as he entered, there was the dazzling sun before him. The Cathedral was big, and the windows on the winding corridor was especially large to make it less imposing, and why the sun was so dazzling.

Also, as the doors to the archives were thick, the commotion from the sanctuary could hardly reach them.

Kusla started to worry, that it would be troublesome if he was to fall asleep due to how quiet it was.

“Let us get to work.”

A few steps into the winding corridor, Kusla could not help but sigh.

The bookshelves were by the wall with the window, and looked intimidating.

They were not actually bookshelves, but rather hollows dug out of the massive stone pillars, down the semi-circular walls. Between the space, there was a desk to read, and a long wooden bench to sit on.

There was one such reading space at various intervals down the winding corridor.

Of course, as the windows captured enough light, there was no need for candles like the pitch-dark underground archives, and there was no dampness and musty stench.

“Magnificent…but most of this is probably for show.”

“Hm?”

“Look at the books here. The people of the Church are no different from ordinary people anyway.”

The covers of the books had a lock running through them, tied to the bookshelf. It seemed this reading space was not to convenience the readers, but to lock the books as an anti-theft measure. It did not hinder Kusla from checking on the various collected books however.

After having a look at the books on a few shelves, he found them all to be similar. It seemed the books chronicling the city’s history were gathered in one spot.

“The books sure are amazing, but it is too bad nobody read them.”

Kusla picked up a book, and started flipping through it, as the pages gave a strangely crisp sound. One could see the ink left behind on every facing page. Nobody probably had the time to browse the history of this city, or the annals that were most probably fabricated.

“But if nobody had read them, their value is extraordinary.”

He placed a book on the reading desk, stepped across the wooden bench, and sat down.

While seated at the reading space, he was able to calm down and concentrate on reading, surrounded by the walls other than the area behind, isolated from the outside world. It was a design borne out of necessity, but it was truly a place suited for reading. Kusla had a thought, that if he was to build a new workshop, he was going to have a similar reading space. Suddenly, he had a thought, and stopped flipping through the pages.

“What is it?”

Fenesis was standing behind Kusla.

“How am I supposed to read?”

She pulled her neck back, looking miffed, reproaching him for not being thorough with his arrangements.

Kusla narrowed an eye impatiently, and reluctantly leaned to the side, creating space.

“…”

Fenesis wanted to complain, but she did sit down on the cramped space, her back turned on him. Kusla never expected her to squeeze into this little space. Just a petite lady.

“I say, hand me a book.”

Hearing that, Kusla reluctantly picked out a book from the shelf.

The books were arranged with their covers facing out, intricate in variety, and on a closer look, one could find the chains to be made of silver.

It was because they were so precious that they had to be locked.

The book covers were made of hard leather and metals, capable of smashing anyone’s heads on, so they felt so heavy in the hands. Kusla was about to hand a book over to Fenesis, only to stop.

“?”

“…The chain isn’t long enough.”

“…”

They were facing each other, and looking at the other’s face.

“…Understood.”

Fenesis sighed, as though having given up, and stood up, raised the hem of his robes like a princess, and stepped over the bench.

During this time, as the reading rack atop the shelf could not accommodate two books, Kusla could only place the other book on the notetaking desk.

“It’s narrow.”

Fenesis said with a scowl.

Kusla himself was not particularly willing to sit next to next with the little lady. Though Fenesis was not taking up too much space as she squeezed in, they were tightly snug together, and he could feel her body warmth so hot it was like a child.

But with her participating in the investigation, the effectively should increase exponentially. She was about to investigate the ancients tribes, and had knowledge and viewpoints Kusla did not know of.

Kusla again sighed, thinking that he had to endure this for the sake of his purpose.

However,

“I say.”

Fenesis spoke up.

“…”

Kusla opened the book in a fluid motion, and started flipping through the quality parchments. Parchments could not bend as tenderly as paper, and there was a need for a bolt to prevent them from expanding. He flipped a page, handing down the text he was inspecting with one hand, and raised his chin, not his head, basically inquiring what was a matter.

After a while, he did not hear a response, and glanced to the side, seeing Fenesis have her hands on her knees, not moving at all.

“Get working. What are you spacing out for?”

Hearing that, Fenesis puffed her cheeks unhappily, and reached her hand out.

He looked over, and found her little hand dangling in the air.

“…I cannot reach the desk.”

“…”

He wordlessly let out a groan, picked up the astonishingly large book, and placed it on Fenesis’ knees. Then, he understood why she could not move.

“…I cannot open it.”

She was already diminutive in size, and with her legs squeezed into the cramped place, she could not over the large, leather cover book on her knees.

If she had to open it, she would have to use Kusla’s knees.

“Now you can.”

Kusla reluctantly lent his knees, and opened the book. Half of it was on his knees, and half was on Fenesis’,

“…Do you mind holding down that side?”

If the parchments of the book were not held down, they would be ruffled. Kusla could not be bothered with her, for he had to hold down his own book.

“I have to hold down my own book.”

“…”

Left with no choice, she could only lean out from above his thighs, and reach out to hold the book down. It ended up with her body ducked under his arm while he was holding down the book.

He recalled his time in the old workshop, that after he had tamed a stray cat, it would assume he was teasing it no matter how he tried to shoo it off, gleeing around him as he flipped the books. At this point, whenever he flipped a page, Fenesis under his arm would twitch.

The winding corridor was not necessarily devoid of people, for one or two would pass by from behind.

He was already used to receiving strange looks, this predicament left him shameful.

He was seemingly carrying a cat in his clutches at this point, able to withstand the cold even in this icy stone Cathedral.

The sun was over their heads, starting to set, shining into the reading room facing west. The silky hair of Fenesis shone under the shining, giving off a mysterious, faint purple and blue hue.

He had assumed her hair was simply white, but the shades of the light differed, and the color shown upon the silky hair would change.

This caused Kusla to recall the various events he had with Fenesis, and he had to sigh.

It was a lethargic, reluctant sigh of various emotions.

But to summarize, it was probably ‘not a bad feeling’.

“…”

Kusla was stunned to realize he had such thoughts, and finally could not help but knock on her head.

“…Wh-what are you doing? I am not sleeping?”

It seemed she had assumed Kusla suspected her of sleeping.

“Concentrate.”

Kusla told her off, and took out a rubber band from the item bag on his waist.

“Your hair is leaving me restless.”

The sunlight shone in through the expensive glass windows, and the light was well suited for reading, but as it was too gentle, Kusla just could not concentrate on reading, but on Fenesis’ hair instead. For every book and page Fenesis opened, there would be a faint sweetness from her that triggered his sense of sleep.

Once he read his fourth book, Kusla had enough.

“Just let me read already.”

He reached out of her lush, silky hair, and with the rubber band, bundled it at the neck. Given Irine’s fiery personality, it was obvious hers was dry and loose, while Fenesis’ was smooth as silk.

Girls of nobility would surely be envious of Fenesis’ hair. Kusla lifted her veil, tied her veil, and then noticed her white, tender neck and fresh shoulders hidden beneath the veil and silky hair.

Her body looked startlingly frail, whether it was the front, back, or side, but her neck and shoulders had a strange gloss to them. The delicate neck was obviously different from a man’s, so soft that even a demon, not a blood-sucking one, would have the urge to bite upon it.

After some random thoughts, Kusla cursed himself for letting his thoughts run while. What am I thinking? She’s a brat. Don’t be fooled. For some reason, these were the words he thought of.

Of course, Fenesis had not realized what he was thinking, and was still focused on reading.

While reproaching himself by saying that he was not Weyland, he forced himself to focus on reading. At this moment.

“I say.”

Hearing her speak up, he was taken aback.

He pretended to remain calm, using all the experience he had. She then said,

“Do you think the typographical errors here are deliberate?”

“…Hm?”

Her words left him completely taken aback, and there was no need for theatrics for that.

He leaned his chin towards her shoulder, his eyes upon the book on her knees.

With her slender fingers, she pointed out the questionable words.

“Here….and here…and here.”

She was reading a book made of parchments of uneven sizes. The book was adorned with gold and gems, looking very luxurious, but on a closer look, one could see these decorations were placed on the rotting leather. These books had no readers, but they would be undignified if they looked decrepit alongside the other fancy books, and thus the actions done.

“…Copying a book is a struggle against pain and sleep. Try once, and you will understand. No matter how many times similar words are repeated, it is inevitable that mistakes will be made.”

“But.”

Fenesis said,

“If you piece them together…”

“Huh?”

Kusla responded, and scanned the opened page.

It depicted the city in its developing stages. Back then, the city should have been ruled by the pagans, so perhaps this was probably a fictitious story the historian had written, ignoring history itself. Perhaps this might be a local fable adapted into something beneficial to the winners.

It was written that after wandering for a while, the ancient sages discovered this port, assumed it was a gem trove, and decided to reside here. The pious people were converted by the sages, gathered here, and formed a settlement.

There were many such cities with similar fables. Fenesis probably was thinking too much as there was Kazan as an example.

But what left Kusla flabbergasted were the mistakes she pointed out, and he realized the meaning behind those mistakes.

“Hey, this is…”

“Hya.”

Kusla muttered away, and Fenesis let out a squeal, her body twitching uncomfortably.

“…”

It seemed it was due to his head leaning upon her shoulder, tangled with her neck.

While she was particularly concerned by it, she calmed down when he looked over at her.

There might be something more concerning.

The mistakes she found.

Looking at how similar the words were, it appeared it was not due to common syntax mistakes, and that the mistakes were due to homonym words.

On a rough glance, there were a few words that stood out.

“Book…spine? Ah, spine…and…no. Inside…spine?”

After piecing them together, a paragraph was formed.

“A coincidence…?”

Fenesis asked cautiously, her face still looking somewhat dizzy.

But in an alchemist’s experiment, it was not uncommon to discover God’s true intentions from a little coincidence. It was said that the boss of a merchant guild, who only worked to profit, would tally his fortunes on the accounts book, and one day, he found his fortune to be worth ten digits, all ten being the same, he awoke his faith in God, and sold off all his fortune, giving to the needy. Kusla surely was not doing so just to gain God’s approval, but he was interested in checking the book spine.

He nudged her aside, set the book up, and peered into the binding gap between the fancy cover and the parchments tied together.

Then, he looked towards Fenesis.

“You, keep a lookout.”

“Eh?”

He drew a dagger from his waist, and stabbed it into the binding gap.

She gasped, but he ignored her as he cut aside the thick ropes, and pulled it down.

She was completely flabbergasted, but whether she was stunned by Kusla’s sudden act of violence or–

“Is this a reward for believing in God every day?”

Kusla kept his dagger as he said so.

Before him was a book with scattered pages, and a rolled-up parchment.

“Now, will this be money hidden by the bishop, or a forbidden love confession?”

“…Will, will it be such a thing?”

Fenesis asked, looking nonplussed.

“Which one? The hidden money?”

“Eh? No, erm, well…, the-the stolen money.”

This clumsy coverup left Kusla with the urge to snicker, but he did not tease Fenesis for this.

“Open it and you will know.”

Saying that, he opened the rolled-up parchment.

Act 3

Kusla shoved the torn books back within the others. Since nobody else would read them, nobody would notice the parchment gone, or that the bindings were left. It seemed most people of the world would notice the appearance of the book, and not the contents.

Through the hidden words, Fenesis discovered a parchment hidden in the spine.

Once Kusla and Fenesis were done reading, they exchanged looks.

Kusla could not imagine the expression he showed.

“Korad Abria. That’s a nostalgic name.”

The man speaking was a commander like Alzen, leading one of the 23 squads that evacuated from Kazan. He looked a dozen years older than the latter, and he appeared to be an administrative oldhead adapt at negotiating in a large city, rather than commanding on a battlefield.

“This fellow here discovered his name, so he said.”

Once Kusla left the archives, he returned to the Knights Headquarters, and without revealing about the discovered parchment, had Alzen investigate on a man called Korad Abria.

Though shocked, Alzen knew from Kusla’s grim look that the latter was serious, and had his subordinate ask the elderly in the other forces.

The one who admitted knowledge of that man was the commander before him.

“It’s said he’s a heretical inquisitor of the Church.”

Kusla said. The old man narrowed his eyes.

The Knights had been fighting the Church in being the leading representative of God, he was not showing disgust of the Church. More importantly, he was not being condescending of the inquisitors, so reviled by the Knights. It was the expression of one looking into the past, and Fenesis occasionally showed such an expression too.

“An inquisitor…yes he was. But he was a little different.”

“You’re saying he had other duties?”

“No no.”

The old man denied it, and showed a nostalgic smile.

“He’s an interesting man. Rather than being an inquisitor, you might say he’s a heretical researcher.”

“Research?”

“Yes. I do remember that fellow being passionate regarding the inquisition. Feels like…he is not normal.”

The old man’s expression clearly showed that he was not bemeaning that person.

“Back in the day, this was a pagan land, located dangerously close to the border, and Nilberk was close to falling. The pagans were powerful, so the Knights and the Church had to attack together. At this point, that notion is out of the question. I was headed North from here back then, along with Korad and the army.”

His eyes drifted slowly beyond the wooden window, as though Latria back then could be seen.

“That man was passionate about investigating heretics. He never let anything involving them slip him by.”

For Church inquisitors, it was work. They were also a group of religious fanatics, firmly believing in burning those opposing God at the stake, hoping to purely and liberate.

The Knights too had a similar organization called the Choir. For self-interest, they raised Fenesis into a cursed tool.

“But he never had anyone burned on the stake.”

“Huh?”

Kusla blurted out, and Alzen, seated on a chair and drinking wine in the old man’s commander room, looked especially intrigued.

“Hmmm. Weird, is it not? From day to night, he would lock himself in the jail cell of the pagans, even having his meals there, questioning fervently about the pagan’s teachings and myths. It felt like he wanted to experience that way of life.”

While extremely stunned, Kusla could somewhat understand.

The parchments hidden in the spine was filled with Korad’s learnings.

“But even so, that fellow never forgot his job. He ate and lived together with the pagans, and got the pagans’ trust, but he firmly believed in God’s greatness. His inquisition methods were no different from the norm.”

“Method?”

“Yes. He would refute the pagans with long spiels of God’s teachings. If the pagans remained unmoved, he would shock them with miracles.”

It was a common method used to convert the pagans.

But there was no one on this world who could create such miracles.

While Kusla had such thoughts, the old commander looked towards him, smiling,

“Yes. Those were not miracles. It was said Korad was born to a noble family of a certain fallen kingdom, and originally intended to be an alchemist for the Knights. Due to a certain incident, he transferred over to the Church instead, becoming a heretical inquisitor instead. Nowadays, this is completely impossible, but it was commonplace back then. Because of this, he would use ‘miracles’, the fake miracles the lot of you pull off. No, I suppose those should be real miracles using the Truths of the world created by God, no?”

The old commander’s words were befitting of a Knight prioritizing realistic profits, the ardent disciples would surely be utterly furious.

“In other words, Korad used such methods to shock the Pagans and convert them.”

“I see…so, where is he?”

Kusla asked a question close to the crux, but the conversation suddenly stopped.

The old commander was silent, overwhelmed with sadness.

“What’s the matter?”

He continued on, his tone unlike that of a high-ranking officer.

“He’s probably not in the Church now. There is no need for someone like him in the Church.”

“But,”

Inquisitors were similar to Alchemists, yet their fates were much worse. Due to their occupation, any word from them would be enough to brand anyone a heretic, and everything would be lost.

Most of the Popes who made it to the top of the Church were inquisitors.

As they were often hidden in the darkness, if they didn’t climb the hierarchy, it would be a matter of time before they got assassinated, or sent on suicidal missions.

Despite that, from what the commander said, it seemed Korad was still alive.

And he mentioned the reason why Korad was still alive

“I still remember. That day, it was snowing, the roads were covered in ice, the docks were frozen longer than expected. We were attacking cities, converting pagan lands, but we were outnumbered. Back then, we never thought we would take over the lands; we were mostly exploring the unknown areas. When the merchants from afar commented that the pagans were going to attack once the snow stopped, she decided to retreat. In fact, most of the soldiers were hoping to retreat. We couldn’t fill our stomachs in such undeveloped lands, and the weather was terrible. What’s the point of dying here? Korad however didn’t think that.”

“He stayed?”

Kusla asked, and the commander nodded.

He smiled.

“Not only did he stay, he went further into pagan lands. Back then, we kept trying to coax him out of it, but he just wouldn’t listen. His eyes were glittering, like a chap eager to meet a maiden he loves.”

Under the clear skies after the snow, the young inquisitor Korad Abria eagerly headed North under the bright sun.

That was the imagery Kusla had.

“Back then, we asked why he wanted to head North. If it was to spread the gospel, he could have done so once all preparations were done. That suicidal attitude of his was really against God’s teachings. Despite what we said, he answered,”

——I feel that there is something I want over there.

“In the harsh cold, there’s no food, and once a person’s physically and mentally unstable, all senses of the cold will be gone. The strong gales will continue to blow, and one would feel as though he’s falling down a bottomless hole, a delusion of a light. Those with no strength to walk would suddenly stand up, and teeter forth in ragged clothes. Some said they were summoned by God, or the Devil. Most of them were found frozen in the snow the next morning, their faces in a trance-like state. That was the face Korad showed when he talked.”

Kusla himself heard about such things, but never witnessed them.

However, Fenesis, listening intently right beside him, might have encountered such cases. Thinking about that, he looked towards her, but could not see her face clearly, Fenesis.

“Ever since then, I never heard his name again. Back then, we asked merchants more fearless than us to seek out his whereabouts, but no dice. He might have escaped, thinking that he couldn’t be an inquisitor for long…but I suppose not.”

“…”

The old man who struggled to his high position after many years chortled like a youth.

“I suppose he went to chase his own dreams.”

Korad was off to the land of Magdala, located somewhere on this world.

“People do beautify the past. Maybe it’s not the case after all.

The old man grimaced, looking at Kusla.

“But where did you find the name Korad? If a man like him lived for another twenty years, my guess is he’s probably a famous person now. Is he truly alive?”

Though the old man clearly was joking, his eyes looked serious.

He hoped that Korad was alive.

A man who remained alone in enemy territory, unseen for twenty or so years.

Kusla endured the prickliness in his heart, and shook his head, giving the stone-cold look of Kusla'Interest'.

“I found this name in a book back in Kazan.”

“Ahh. So it involves the creation of dragons?”

“Yes.”

He could lie as easily as he could breathe.

He could turn lead into gold, and gold into lead.

“I was wondering if this involved the issue of faith.”

“I see……but, you probably don’t have to worry. Nobody out there, not even the Church, know of Korad’s name.”

“Is that so?”

“Hoho. Having heard an unexpected name, I ended up talking so much more.”

“My apologies.”

Alzen brushed it off, and the old commander waved his hand.

“Without Archduke Kratal’s forces, our troops might not have lasted. The existence of the dragons were a miracle to us all. Just think of this information as payment for us hitchhiking. Come to think about it, I still owe you.”

“So you mean there’s more the haggle?”

Alzen jabbed back. While both of them were joking around, they were probing each other, and then, they guffawed in a manner unique to rulers.

Kusla remained between them, quietly noting,

“And I have one last request.”

“What is it?”

“Do you mind telling me of the path Korad took?”

“?”

The man was stunned, certainly, so he muttered. He called for his subordinate, and passed over a marked map to Kusla.

“There really are various kinds of people on this world.”

They returned to Alzen’s room, who commented such.

“So? Are there possibly dragons sleeping in other cities?”

He asked Alzen, looking at the map of their path 20 years ago or so.

“Hard to say. I feel that the cities he passed has to be investigated.”

“Yes.”

Alzen nodded, and lifted his head,

“The Bible states that there are no eternal secrets. Skills spread like the plague. That spells trouble…”

“Even the Black Plague can’t survive the passages of time.”

“Yes. Even if Korad realized the existence of the dragons, nobody remembers about him. If we play our cards correctly, the enemy might not realize.”

Kusla discovered the parchment Korad left behind in the Church, and went to look for Alzen, making up a valid reason to investigate. He said that he found an inquisitor name called Korad in Kazan, and Korad so happened to be investigating this city Nilberk at that time. Though it was unknown what he was investigating, but if he was investigating about the dragons, perhaps there was the technology of the dragons elsewhere.

Alzen never doubted those words.

“If there’s anything else, tell me. I’ll assist.”

“Understood.”

Kusla pretentiously bowed, and took his leave.

He returned to his lodging, and took out the parchment from the waist bag.

There were words on the parchment.

No matter how many times he read them, he was nauseous with excitement.

However, Fenesis remained silent the entire time, and was even listless when she sat on the edge of the bed.

“Not feeling well?”

Kusla asked without a thought.

But Fenesis jolted, shriveling away as she looked at Kusla.

Clearly, she looked a little distracted, and she shook her head despite that.

“It just feels, surreal…”

“Huh?”

“Well…I do not know how to express it…but it seems like a city I never heard, suddenly appearing before me…”

Fenesis appeared as though she was narrating about ghosts she saw the previous night, and was on the verge of tears.

But Kusla did not tease Fenesis, for he had a vague feeling what Fenesis wanted to say.

“That is called excitement.”

Fenesis widened her eyes at Kusla.

“But you have to remain rational.”

Kusla added, and Fenesis immediately blushed. It seemed she had returned to her old self.

“Anyway, you did really well this time. Somehow noticed that.”

“…O-Of course…”

Fenesis grumbled softly, and Kusla sneered.

Her contributions were really valuable.

The parchment signed with the name Korad Abria was written,

——In this Land, the knowledge left by God remains in slumber.

——God sent the Holy Spirit to this place.

——In the past, the Spirits from the Sanctuary left this knowledge behind.

Korad’s handwriting looked really anxious, either because it was cold, or because of his personality.

The short passage was filled with some strong will. Written on the last line was,

——I hope that those having the same aim as me will come trace my path after reading this.

Clearly it was a message left behind, in the spine of a most boring book, the city annals. Over the past 20 years, only Kusla and Fenesis discovered this hidden message.

But ultimately, it landed in the hands of those who should receive them.

Truly he was an extraordinary inquisitor…

He ate with the pagans, concerned himself with their cultures, and while exhibiting elements of an Alchemist, he had skills to enact miracles impromptu.

At the border, he ignored the words others said, and ventured deep into Pagan lands.

He said there might be something he wanted before him.

He left his words in the city’s Annals.

“This man…is really…”

Fenesis stammered, seemingly afraid of acknowledging this fact.

Kusla picked up the parchment, stood up, and then checked the sides.

Accordingly to the old commander Alzen introduced, his impression of Korad was,

Kusla nodded, and quietly thought, there’s no doubt.

“Korad really believed the Ancients existed.”

Thus, because of that reason, he hid the hint on that page.

After taking out the parchment, Kusla had a close look at that page, and found the misspellings were all deliberately added later. There appeared to be several strokes added to similar looking words, and those dissimilar were carefully worn off and rewritten.

“Passionate about Pagan cultures, becoming an inquisitor. Is it all for the sake of finding the trails of the Ancients?”

“You just…noticed?”

“The past was a lot more chaotic than it is now. The old commander said Korad was a son of nobility, so he probably touched some books that might be considered taboo, or rather…”

After some hesitation, Kusla continued,

“He saw those brought in from the Far East, talked with them, and confirmed the existence of the Ancients”

Fenesis, who was similarly treated and ended up with this fate, was a little shocked, before she nodded slightly.

“If true, the unnamed sage recorded on that Annal page was also an Ancient”

So it was written on the back of that thrown Annal,

The ancient Sage know everything. On the first day, he learned of the ways of the Earth; the second night, he learned of the ways of the Stars.

On the third day, he refined his knowledge, and on the fourth night, he fulfilled everything.

“This includes the secrets of various myths, the ability to manipulate the sage’s stone, the omnipotent elixir, the Book of Life God used when creating humanity, the Adamantite that formed the celestial bodies, and”

Kusla gave a sarcastic leer,

“The metal of God made from smelting, Orichalcum.”

The Sage knew about everything.

Humans could not comprehend it all however. They were just guided by the Knowledge and Law brought forth by the Sage, gathered, and later prospered for generations——

“But if a Sage really knows everything, is he not God to begin with?”

“But,”

Fenesis sounded unexpectedly terse.

“But…we do know something, right?”

Kusla narrowed his eyes at Fenesis, gulped, and grinned.

He often dampened his own enthusiasm, always quietly warning himself that it was all a life.

It was a way of life, ensuring that he would not be ensnared in traps. However, Fenesis could not do it as well as him.

The passion she exhibited left Kusla nostalgic.

“We do know something.”

Kusla repeated Fenesis’ words, and continued,

“The Land of Magdala is where Korad was headed.”

The map marking Korad’s route remained in Alzen’s room, and Kusla had discreetly remembered it.

Korad might have left some things in those towns he stayed in.

Kusla opened the wooden windows, and looked out.

The room was rather dark, and looking out, there was already a red hue in the sky.

The winter sunset arrived a lot earlier.

Looking up at the sky, Kusla said,

“The legend says that it’s sleeping somewhere under the skies.”

Kusla found it incredulous. The world was boundless, but yet their daily lives often stopped abruptly. What he should understand, he could not, and he was anxious, for this was seemingly too big for his mouthful.

“It’s probably far away.”

Kusla muttered. He had no intention of showing such weakness, but it seemed so surreal.

Hearing that, Fenesis sounded a little gleeful,

“Never forget the true meaning of your journey.”

“Huh?”

Kusla turned around, and found Fenesis giving him a gentle smile.

“Keep moving forth, on your feet. As long as you keep walking, there were will amazing sceneries before you, and——”

She paused.

Kusla suddenly went over to her, and grabbed her on her face with a hand.

“I was about to say, don’t get cocky.”

He shook her head side to side as he said this, and smiled,

“But I’m in a good mood.”

Then, he looked away from her, smiling,

“Also, you’re the one who contributed. You’re suited to be an Alchemist.”

“Eh?”

Kusla glanced aside at Fenesis, whose expression was one as befuddled as an innocent girl fooled by a bad man. Still the same as before, so he thought.

“Because of luck.”

“…”

Again, she was teased, and she was incensed. However, Kusla ignored her, and continued,

“This is very important. There are too many irrational things on this world. To avoid them, to reach the Land of Magdala, you need cunning, and luck.”

Fenesis gave Kusla a miffed look, and pouted,

“You are, mean spirited…”

“Whatever you say. This is required of an alchemist.”

“…That is definitely a lie.”

Kusla merely shrugged at those words, and Fenesis, looking dumbfounded, sighed at him.

She looked towards the parchment in Kusla’s hand, her face breaking into a proud smile as she started marveling at it.

She seemed to be implying that it was her accomplishment.

“Anyhow, we just have to keep investigating.”

Kusla said, closing the wooden windows.

“First, we need to eat. Or are you thinking this is a lie too?”

“…You really are a child.”

“I said I’m in a good mood.”

Good grief, so Fenesis sighed. In fact, whenever Kusla relaxed, he would celebrate like a child.

In any case, it seemed someone else did realize the existence of the Ancients he found in Kazan.

All this time, Kusla had assumed he was the only one who knew of their existences.

He was thinking that his assumptions were simply not true. At this point, he felt a strong push from behind, supporting his case.

What remained in slumber within the Lands of Latira, the lost technology from back then. Surely it was——

Kusla started letting his thoughts run wild, and was about to exit the room.

It was often that the expanding bread would burst at such moments.

“Eh?”

Fenesis muttered skeptically.

The moment she was about to leave the room, she turned back.

“What is it?”

Kusla asked, but she ignored him, and stared into the room. Right when Kusla was about to ask again, Fenesis teetered to the window side, and opened the wooden windows.

Suddenly, Kusla could vaguely hear something.

“What is it? A fire?”

He stood behind Fenesis, and looked out of the window. There was no stench of smoke however. So what was it? Suddenly, there was the sound of metals clashing. It sounded as though a pot was being hammered, a fire warning.

“…I guessed so.”

Fenesis muttered.

“…Enemy…”

“What?”

Then, a little further there, there was the sound of metals clearly crashing, coming from afar. It appeared the guards were hammering at the pots, meandering around.

“Because the Church has no bell…no, what did you say again?”

Kusla again asked Fenesis.

She slowly answered,

“An enemy raid.”

Kusla could not believe it, and was about to ask again, only to realize there was no need. The guards’ voices clearly reached his ears.

“Enemy raid! We’re under attacked!”

They hollered as they ran about, slamming the pots. The pedestrians on the streets were stunned.

“We’re under attack! Get a weapon and get to the wall! We’re attacked!”

The windows of the inn opposite were fully opened, it seemed, and each inhabitant was looking around.

At this time? Everyone was stunned, and after a while, hurriedly got into action.

The people swarmed the streets, and the mercenaries, quick on their feet, were already running.

Kusla looked down the main street, saw beyond the massive wall, and could not help but gulp.

The enemy is trying to cross that?

Though still in disbelief, he did not think it was merely a prank.

The sky was completely dark, and the mood beneath seemed to imply that any calamity that followed was not a surprise.

Kusla and Fenesis arrived at the bar on the ground floor of the inn, awaiting the news with the other mercenaries and Knights. The guard came to report that it was misinformation.

The moment Kusla heaved a sigh of relief however, the guard announced that he and the others were summoned to the Knights headquarters.

If it was simply misinformation, surely there was no need for them.

There had to be a reason.

“Can you see them?”

The cold winds brewed, and there was some humidness, due to the close proximity to the sea. The winds were somewhat damp. It would be a pleasant view from a high spot in sprint, but after the sunset, this would merely cause uneasiness.

“Hm…just a little…doesn’t feel well trained though. And they are very disorganized.”

“So they’re just moving something out?”

“If they’re not pretending to be, maybe?”

Irine looked unbemused. It appeared she was working hard on mass producing the dragons, only to be dragged off here. Her heart must have been frozen, having been brought from the scorching furnace to the hightower, exposed to the frigid elements.

“Also, they say it is the latest design. Maybe the enemy can’t tell how it works~”

Weyland placed a foot on the stone rail. There was no sun, but he had a hand right above his eyes, looking afar. Not too far away, there was a bunch of people looking down at the city.

Though they were dressed differently, they were extraordinarily similar in that they did not resemble the fine people of the city in any way.

Kusla and the others were Alchemists who came to this city along, standing upon the massive walls protecting Nilberk.

“Can your ears hear anything?”

Kusla turned around to ask.

Fenesis was slumped disinterestedly behind him.

She did that neither because of cold nor hunger, but a fear of heights.

“…”

“…Look, I’m not teasing you. Stop giving me that look.”

Kusla had no intention fo doing so, but she looked over with an anguished look, and he was left disturbed. Finally, he told her off. Looking devastated, Fenesis shook her head in anger and tears.

“But it’s definitely not something good.”

Kusla said with disgust, his eyes looking over at some bright lights on the dark empty land. They were flaming torches in the sea of darkness, and the enemy was busy assembling something there.

“The latest catapult, huh?”

The catapult was at least a dozen times taller than a person, and used the massive woods that could only be harvested from the Northern region of Latria, along with sturdy beast tendons and abundant metals. The range far surpassed that of previous versions, and so was the destructiveness. Typically, the catapults fired metal blocks, and could not really fly over the walls, but that was depending on past specifications.

Humans can only deal with what they can imagine.

“It really feels excessive if they have to escape with this in a raid~”

Hearing Weyland mention this, Kusla sighed. The sigh drifted behind in the form of white mist, as though their luck had vanished along with the gales.

“Let’s go back. It’s pointless watching them finish it.”

“Yes. There’s no way they can finish it that quickly. Look, they’re just swapping ou the same materials over and over again. There’s no leader to be seen. If that’s a workshop, nobody will complain if they’re kicked out.”

Irine critiqued them like a master, but her leadership was really outstanding, for since Kazan, there had been no complaints about her. Sometimes, it was beneficial for a woman to be overly young, just as Fenesis was viewed as a War Goddess on the battlefield.

Perhaps those that stood out in the workshop could intimidate those men.

“Better notify Alzen of that. The embodiment of the smithing and thunder God said this.”

Kusla made a sly dig with a serious look. Irine narrowed her eyes after hearing that, and fearlessly chuckled.

“Yeah. I have that fake bead now. Ready to dress up and meet him anytime now.”

Kusla could visualize Irine’s appearance whenever she toiled in the workshop.

“Let’s go back. Can you stand up?”

Kusla grabbed Fenesis by the arm, dragging her arm. Seeing her this terrified, he lost interest in teasing her like usual. On their way back, Fenesis tugged onto Kusla’s arm firmly, stumbling about, and only once they began descending the stairs of the walls did she finally calm down.

The city walls of an ordinary city functioned like the walls of a house, but for a massive city like Nilberk, the walls functioned as overly thin house. The windows at the stairs of the wall were opened, and the soldiers could fire arrows out or scatter scorching oil from there. Thus, the wall contained lots of resources, lamps for burning oils, and wells to draw water.

The cramped space was filled with such materials, all for this purpose. Kusla inadvertently recalled his alchemist workshop, and was feeling nostalgic.

The moonlight shone into the stone walls crammed with materials. Kusla had the feeling if he looked out of the window and pondered, he might get some amazing inspiration.

But that was something only to be done in normal times. At this point, Nilberk did not require thoughts, but actual actions.

Kusla and the gang went for the Knights Headquarters, and arrived at Alzen’s room.

Alzen’s eyes were strangely sharp.

“So what do you think after witnessing out outstanding technology?”

The one answer was a miffed looking Irine, her hands on her waist.

“Not too bad, but the people assembling are really terrible, stupid.”

The quality managed showed the amount of trust granted.

A craftsmen guild might seem gloomy, but the quality it provides can be assured.

“It’ll take a long time to assemble, right?”

“Anyway, it doesn’t feel like they’ll finish assembling right now. It’ll take some time at least, and since they’re not from my guild, I can’t give a rough tell.”

Irine was not sounding curt in the slightest, either because she was overly fatigued, or that she was gutsy to begin with.

Outside a city, she was a girl trembling in fear. Within it, she’s a skilled blacksmith telling off men wielding hammers around.

“The blueprint tot burned, but if anyone discovers a problem, all difficulties can be solved. The materials are prepared, and most importantly, those fellows brought a completed sample and broke them up here.”

“In that case, once the assemblers know how to coordinate, it should be possible to assemble. At most, there’ll be a few days of delay.”

Kusla then continued from what Irine said,

“I agree with Irine. So do we build the catapult too? The guy who drew the blueprint is one of us, right? We should be able to do i.”

Alzen gloomily sighed seethingly. It was said that the watchmen found lots of carriages outside the city, and were wondering if it was that catapult they were building.

Once the news reached headquarters, a commander confessed.

He mentioned that the catapult was made by his forces to attack Latria.

But when the Queen of Latria launched her ambush in advance, they were forced to scamper away, and also had to burn the blueprints.

Simply put, the weapon baring its fangs before the city was made by them.

So how would the people who escaped from the enemy’s clutches think?

“That…well.”

The one answering was Irine.

“Any problems?”

“They only had a blueprint, yes? In that case, it’ll be like an errand boy with poor memory writing his tasks on a stone plate with lime.”

Irine could not read, but her metallurgical skills were top notch.

Craftsmen typically stayed in the same city for their entire lives, building the same things with others. They did not need written words to convey skills to others, nor need to leave behind anything.

“You young fellows have quite the decent eyes.”

There was a sly dig in Alzen’s tone.

Of course, it was his biggest appraisal of Irine.

“Grateful for that. It’s impossible to build them now, unless we stop producing the dragons.”

“This is also a problem too.”

Alzen simply answered, and raised his chin at Irine.

“Return to your workshop. The production of the dragons shall be our lifeline.”

“Yes.”

Irine nodded, good grief, and left the room.

“Luckily, there’s lot of tar in this city. It was shipped in not too long so, to coat the spring boats and keep them waterproof. Praise be to God.”

Things that could be used in Alchemy could be used in other areas too.

“I tried it. It can work.”

“Then we do have a way to fight back.”

Irine left the room, and closed the door. Left behind were Alzen, Kusla, Weyland and Fenesis. There were frantic footsteps outside the door, and the lit torches shone in through the windows. The entire city was embroiled in a commotion.

“So the reason why you haven’t sent us back to the workshop is?”

Kusla asked.

“Of course, I’m not asking to built catapults to defeat the enemy.”

Alzen tapped the desk with his fingers, saying

“But if this keeps up, we will lose.”

At that moment, Kusla assumed he misheard, and so did Weyland, it seemed.

“Some metaphor~?”

“No.”

Kusla too understood that someone like Alzen would never show weakness so easily.

Surely it was the conclusion he made after having calmly and thoroughly analyzed the situation.

“The enemy will probably use the catapult to destroy the wall, with a burning iron ball. This will definitely cause many casualties. This catapult was something a Knights squadron built; they left these materials behind to escape, and kept mum about that, even though they knew this weapon in enemy hands will be used on us.”

They probably knew the severity of the situation when they left this weapon behind, but they had no other choice. Concealing the matter was simply trying to absolving their responsibility, typical of people

In the end, they had to pray for the unrealistic, and hope the enemy did not discover the massive catapult left in the city.

“What will happen after this? The mercenaries and Knights might have a thought, that their comrades who hoped to stand out, who volunteered, will die one day not because of a glorious battle, but due to their allies’ error. They were supposed to believe in their allies.”

“The ones they can’t hold their rage and hatred against won’t be the enemies outside the city, but their own allies in the city.”

“Also, the wounds caused by such errors can’t be laughed off in the bars. The mercenaries will lose their will to fight. Furthermore, there’s already a talking point in the city. Imagine the despair when the strongest weapon to be used on the enemy shall be used on us. What will the men say?”

“…There’s no God.”

The Church of this city had no bell.

It was a city forsaken by God.

Without a Church bell, waking up in the morning would be a problem. How could the fighters storm the battlefield with vigor?

“But we cannot be defeated here. Not at all!”

The man who declared to invade Latria roared.

And Kusla, exceptionally eager about this land, was no different. Having read Korad’s text, leaving the land of Latria would mean leaving the Land of Magdala.

“I see. In other words.”

“Yes. You’re going to build a bell no matter what. I heard you were locked up in prison because you burned a Saint’s bones in the furnace, didn’t you?”

Kusla sneered, and shrugged.

“You can try any method. Anything is fine. The other alchemists will receive similar orders. The afterwork will be troublesome, but we’ll rationalize our objectives. As long as you pull off the results, you——”

Alzen’s eyes were filled with a little fear and condescendence.

“You will discover magic, won’t you?”

Turning lead into gold, turning gold into lead. Or on a full moon night, to burn toads and lizards into ash, and boil them together with the molten metal in a pot to obtain an otherworldly metal

Of course, such were superstitions, and Kusla’s mind was filled with some practical questions.

Building the bell was a minor issue, but he smelled something fishy going on.

The blacksmiths would not build the bell, for they considered the grave consequences of failing. Their workshops existed for generations, and would be inherited by their descendants. To have their names defiled would be the end of the world for their workshops.

But was that it? Kusla was quietly leery of it.

What Alzen proposed was something they often broke.

Alchemists knew that this thing called luck remained rare on Earth.

The excitement in his heart dissipated, and he reverted back to being a skeptical alchemist, saying,

“This is getting dangerously close to heresy.”

But the response were cold eyes and words.

“So what about that? I told you to do so, so do it.”

He was dealing with his superior, and in the Knights, the superior was someone who had rule over his life and death. He had no privilege to refuse.

He himself had to protect his own life.

Having realized this, Kusla lowered his head.

“…Understood.”

Alzen did not answer. Good grief, so Weyland sighed reluctantly. Kusla looked down at Fenesis, and raised his chin.

It was Kusla and the alchemists desire to be permitted by their superiors to use any means. Someone like Alzen must be hoping that they could resolve this issue as quickly as possible, knowing that idleness would only lead to defeat. Most important, the fragments of God might remain in slumber on this land, and Kusla wanted to trace Korad’s footsteps no matter what.

But Kusla knew that it was impossible to build the bell using ordinary means. His instincts were warning him repeatedly, not to get involved with it.

And, the biggest problem.

Was that they had to build the bell no matter what.

Kusla snorted.

It was for that reason that he wanted to keep his distance from it.

Kusla and Weyland wordlessly left the Knights headquarters, and frowned at the chilly winds and the chaotic streets meeting them.

At this moment, Fenesis stammered,

“What do we do next?”

Though uneasy, she had not lost her bearings. Her voice was filled with determination, and she was not asking for comfort sake, but an earnest desire to deliver her utmost.

After reading Korad’s book, Fenesis was completely excited. Surely she was not interested in the sage’s stone, the immortal elixir and the like. She knew those were Kusla’s dreams, and felt the same as he did.

But Kusla was worried about that.

“Weyland, can I use that workshop of yours?”

“Hm? Ahhh, sure~ Half of it is for Irine to use though~.”

“Perfect. That’ll be good for supervision.”

“Supervision?”

Weyland looked mystified.

“Alzen said that we’re to use whatever means, but it’s best not to do anything weird.”

Kusla answered unhappily, and Weyland was increasingly mystified.

“Ul, has he eaten something strange?”

“Er…”

Fenesis too was suspicious, for typically, she was worried that Kusla might do something blasphemous against God.

“I-in any case, I do not agree to you doing any inhumane experiments. So I do agree…if it is not anything dangerous.”

Saying that, she peeked up at Kusla.

“Of course.”

Kusla naturally agreed, and this left Fenesis all the more confused, her worry for Kusla clearly shown. Weyland scratched his head, looking back and forth between them.

Kusla said in a matter of act manner,

“There are large bells in other cities too. There’s no need for any weird skills in making a bell. Don’t say anything weird.”

Kusla reminded Weyland, and that Weyland felt more terrified than he was whenever a dagger was pointed at him.

“Th-then what are we supposed to do~?”

Seeing Weyland’s reaction, Fenesis seemed a little miffed for some reason.

“It is a good thing, I feel. Also, your surprise is truly insulting.”

“That, hm…I see~…?”

Weyland, typically the gentleman to women, found Fenesis’ words incomprehensible, but he tried to accept.

“Yes. He has finally accepted God’s teachings.”

Fenesis said, puffing her chest as she smiled at Kusla .

Of course, this was not the case.

Kusla stared back at her coldly.

“You too.”

Fenesis’ face immediately froze, as though someone had doused her with cold water.

After looking dumbfounded, she argued back at a leaving Kusla,

“I will not do that.”

“Well said. Remember what you just said.”

Kusla responded without looking back. Fenesis puffed her cheeks like a toad.

After walking for a while.

“I see~”

Weyland suddenly said.

“It is as you say, Kusla.”

Hearing how Weyland, who was usually biased towards her, say this, Fenesis looked hurt, and turned to him,

“M-Mr Weyland, you too…”

“Hmm. No, well~.”

Hearing Weyland’s giggle, Kusla knew what he was going to say.

And thus, Kusla did not look back, and had no intention to stop him.

“If we’re saying that we can use any means, there are a few forbidden ways to build a bell~.”

“Eh?”

“Isn’t that right, Kusla?”

Weyland grinned.

Kusla knew it was inevitable they would be talking about this, a topic that could not be avoid.

He glanced behind to Fenesis, saying

“Do you know why bells are often dubbed with female names?”

“Eh?”

The white girl’s green eyes looked back and forth between the two men, like a kitten playing with a furball. Her adorable look was reminiscent of a girl filial to the men. In fact, she had a strong heart, shockingly stubborn at times.

Kusla sighed, and said,

“Because God loves young women. When smelting metals, women are sometimes used.”

Fenesis stared back, tilting her head.

Weyland grimaced, and explained,

“They’re thrown into the furnace when smelting~.”

“Ah.”

“A live sacrifice~.”

There was a defined method to build bells, but there were times when things did not go well. During such instances, people would do strange things, like observing the constellations, walking out of the door with the right foot first, or grabbing the right ear with the left hand when smelting. Many knew that adding bones when smelting would increase the malleability of iron or copper. Someone thought that throwing a demure girl into the furnace would create a softer metal of pretty sounds.

“B, ut…this…”

Fenesis was at a loss of words, her legs stumbling around.

Weyland laughed as he put his hand on Fenesis’ back.

“Because you’re strangely decisive when it comes to strange matters, Ul.”

If he had not mentioned it, she might have jumped into the furnace herself. She had past instances of acting rashly.

If my life can allow you to fulfill your dreams——

Kusla looked over at Fenesis with cold eyes.

“A fool you are.”

“I-I am no fool.”

Fenesis instinctively refuted, but her voice lacked any vigor. She seemed to be on the verge of tears, feeling awkward.

Once Kusla approached the cross junction, there appeared a carriage filled with goods. He stopped, and looked back at her.

“Anyway, promise me——”

Kusla was about to continue, but Fenesis never calmed down, it seemed. She stopped, and crashed into him. He caught her in a panic, and found that Weyland shoved her forward.

She remained still in Kusla’s clutches, and Weyland giggled away.

Kusla could not help but sigh.

“…You…are mean.”

The soft, warm girl in his clutches grumbled.

The voice sounded like creaking from a cabinet filled with interesting things, leaving him weak. It seemed if he opened a little, something would flow out.

Alchemists like Kusla would risk their lives for such a cabinet of surprises, but he felt it was different from what he wanted.

Nevertheless, she was equally important.

Kusla tapped her on the head, and went forward.

Act 4

The main issue about building bells was, how much tin was to be added to copper.

The more tin, the better the sound, but it would be more brittler. If there were equal amounts of tin, the building process itself would be affected by the weather, and the resulting bell might be brittle, or dull sounding. The demands for building a bell were a blacksmiths instincts and experience honed from many years of failure. It completely defied what the Alchemists demanded.

Despite that, Alzen gave the orders, so Kusla and the others had to do so. Most importantly, Kusla had to stop the Knights from retreating.

He and Weyland went around gathering the raw materials, and Fenesis too joined the ore treatment, grinding them, washing, filtering the impurities with acid and lead, and trying out various copper-tin combination. There were no special materials added in the experiments, and they were done in a structured manner, the proportion of tin being the variable; once done, the grains were poured into a cast. The actual bell would be so big, it could cover a kneeling Fenesis completely, but there was no need for that for these experiments. They did twenty and so alloys of different proportions.

It was almost dawn when they were done smelting all the minerals.

Once Kusla and the others arrived at the workshop, Irine went off to the other workshops, instructing the other blacksmiths on building the dragons, and did not return. Thus, when Kusla awoke from his light sleep, he found the workshop to be completely quiet.

The only things heard were the sleeping sounds, the creaking of the water wheel, and the furnace spitting flames. Amidst the silence, Weyland slept with his arms formed, looking up, while Fenesis was cupping the poker, leaning on the wall as she slept.

The workshop was so big, there was sufficient space even with twenty casts present. Fenesis was a completely different person from when she was at the Gulbetty workshop; her physique was much stronger, and she grasped the basics of the work. The experiments ended faster than expected. Kusla saw the white girl sleeping peacefully, and recalled the words Irine said in Kazan. Whatever is the correct decision can only be known by trying.

Korad, who adamantly departed for the land of death, probably knew that when he said there was something there he wanted.

Kusla chuckled, and shook his head.

He stashed away his weary smile, and kicked at the poker she was holding.

“Wake up.”

“Feuh, huh?!”

Fenesis probably had a dream as she slept; she lifted her head in shock, and she slowly reached for the poker. At this moment, she finally noticed that she had fallen asleep, and looked up at Kusla tearily.

“…P-Please do not pull my ear…”

It seemed she had recalled Kusla’s threat to pull her ears if she fell asleep.

Kusla shrugged, dug his little finger into his ear, and said,

“Keep working.”

Fenesis looked up at Kusla in shock. “Y-yes!” and replied.

Then, he kicked Weyland too, and pulled out the alloys from the casts.

“The colors are completely different.”

They laid the alloys onto the workdesk, observing the stark contrasts.

“Pure copper is red, and if we add more tin, it becomes golden, then silverish. An experienced blacksmith might be able to determine the amount used just from the colors.”

“…So pretty.”

The freshly cast bronze glittered under the morning sun, and Fenesis could not resist the urge to reach for them.

“Hot!?”

“Knew you would do that~.”

“Fool.”

With Weyland teasing and Kusla scorning, Fenesis reeled her neck back in anger, pouting her lips into a triangle.

“The colors are obvious, but you need to knock to hear the sounds. Try them.”

Kusla handed a hammer over to Fenesis, and raised his chin.

Though a little confused, Fenesis cautiously knocked on them.

“Bronze is malleable, so the sound dulls. If the alloy hardens, the pitch gets louder.”

With Kusla explaining, Fenesis cautious tapped the alloys before her.

Whenever she tapped at one, the ears under her veil would twitch. Suddenly, they shook greatly.

“This sound…”

“This probably is the purity level used to make the bell.”

The alloy was a pretty golden, right between red and silver. It could be said to be perfect for making the Church bell.

“Nice ears. You can become a blacksmith whenever you want. I envy you..”

Kusla deliberately teased Fenesis, who glared up at him.

“I think it is not too late to change after I learn the secrets of Alchemy.”

“Oho.”

Weyland chortled, and Kusla smirked. Quite the talker, aren’t you?

Fenesis scowled, trying to act serious.

She tapped the alloys in order. The more silvery it got, the crisp sound became shrill.

“Once it gets this white, it becomes too hard, and shatters easily. Like a certain somebody.”

“…”

Kusla said as he tapped on Fenesis’ head, who immediately scowled again.

But she did not fight back, instead looking towards Weyland.

“So why have the blacksmiths been unable to build a good bell?”

“Pff.”

Weyland laughed, not because he found Fenesis’ question funny.

It was because Fenesis was asking Weyland, not Kusla.

Her revenge on Kusla was petty, and yet effective.

“This involves lots of other factors. For example, the ores might have impurities if they aren’t filtered properly, or there are problems enlarging a bell ~”

“What are the specifics? Are they something I can understand?”

Fenesis looked more passionate than before as she kept asking Weyland.

Clearly she was trying to spite Kusla, who would be the real fool if he reacted.

So Kusla grimaced with folded arms, remaining silent.

“I can tell you the answer…but you have to think in order to learn~.”

“Uu…I see. Understood. I shall think..”

“Hm. So write down all the questions you can think of. There might be lots of questions you don’t know the answers to, but because of that, there might be issues we haven’t thought of~.”

“There are?”

“Of course. For example, there are many accounts of alchemists all over the world committing countless heinous acts, no~? To be honest, some of those rumors were beyond our imaginations~.”

“…”

Fenesis was initially assigned to the workshop to supervise Kusla and Weyland, back when she had a bad impression on alchemists as a whole. Such words might be hurtful to her ears.

Fenesis shriveled, and looked up at Weyland.

“Well, I’m not telling you off here~. People are like this after all~. Any unfamiliar metals, they think of it as a creature, and add some tail, back, chest to them, turning little fish to large dragons. This is the power of imagination~.”

Also, there were times during experimentation when the results were beyond expectations. Experiments are fun.

Kusla wanted to say, but it would appear he wanted to attract Fenesis’ attention, so he endured.

“Of course, most imaginations differ from the facts, so there will be problems. With knowledge and experience, the imaginations become closer to the truth~. There’s good and bad to this. Some truths might seem dull, nothing to imagine. This why I’m different from Kusla, I like my girls to wear their veils properly. Just show a bit of the face~.”

Weyland reached for Fenesis’ veil, and adjusted it.

Fenesis tensed up apprehensively, but Kusla knew she was being bashful, not fearful.

“You should learn how to hide this secret, little Ul~. That will attract the imagination of men~.”

“Hide…secret?”

Fenesis muttered to herself.

You’re giving her weird ideas again, so Kusla glared at Weyland, only to be ignored by the latter.

“This is why I reach out to various girls. The charm of a girl I just met is the strongest. I know this is criminal, but I can’t help it~.”

Weyland put a hand on his chest, leaning back like a stage actor as he declared that.

Kusla felt weak, and could not bring himself to agree with that. Fenesis however was giggling at how much of a dandyman Weyland was.

“So, little Ul, write down the issues that will happen when enlarging a metal.”

“Y-yes.”

“Now then,”

Weyland looked towards Kusla.

“What do we do? Shall we watch little Ul think?”

“…”

Fenesis retreated in annoyance. Seeing that, Weyland deliberately beamed at her, and she ended up laughing again.

Kusla looked disinterested in this, his face freezing up, but regarding the case of bell making, he had a few questions to ascertain.

Kusla was about to mention this, only to hear frantic footsteps beyond the door coming to an abrupt halt. Everyone looked towards there, Kusla drew the dagger at his waist, pulling Fenesis by the shoulder.

Kusla opened a door, and a person immediately fell inside.

“Huh?”

“M-Miss Irine?!”

Fenesis hollered as she scampered over. Irine remained limp on the workshop floor. One of the thick leather gloves she used for smelting had disappeared for some reason.

Did she escape from some barbarians?

Kusla had such a notion for a moment, but after hearing some snoring, it seemed she was simply worn out.

“The lot of you…”

Kusla sighed, nudged the hapless Fenesis aside, and lifted up a collapse Irine..

She was a little taller than Fenesis, but she felt heavy on his shoulder.

It seemed the curves were there, and whatever left was the weight a blacksmith required.

“Prepare the bed.”

“Y-yes.”

Fenesis hurried into the workshop, preparing panickily. Irine’s face was covered in soot, and some slight burns on her. It seemed she was hit by some explosive fragments. Despite that, her tired, unconscious face looked satisfied.

Kusla snorted, and laid Irine down on the bed Fenesis prepared.

“Wipe her face and body. Change her clothes.”

Fenesis looked up at Kusla skeptically. Kusla shrugged, and answered,

“Or do you want me to do that?”

Fenesis’ face flushed immediately, shaking her head.

“Once you finish taking care of Irine, do what Weyland tells you to do. He’s pretty laid back, but he isn’t bad at alchemy.”

“Eh, ah, yes.”

Kusla reminded Fenesis, and left the room.

“Watch out for those two. I’m going out for a while.”

“Hah? Where you going~?”

“It’s important to determine the factors to create a bell successfully, but the failures are also important.”

He probably could obtain the bell fragment if he went to the blacksmith. Perhaps he could find the reason for failure by analyzing the purity of the fragment and the proportion of the alloy materials.

“That makes sense~.”

“Also, I’m checking out the situation.”

Both of these reasons were his main objectives.

“Hmm? Then bring little Ul along. Is she not pouting away~?”

Weyland giggled.

“Or you’re the one pouting, Kusla~?”

“…Scram!”

Kusla ignored the guffawing Weyland, and left the workshop. The weather remained cold, but due to the sun high above, it seemed warm outside. The craftsmen street the workshop was at looked lively. Just looking at this, it seemed the city was as lively as usual, but there had to be some situation going on, given the previous incident’s commotions.

Arriving at the plaza, Kusla knew what he expected was correct.

“Worse than I thought.”

Kusla muttered, and scanned his surroundings. There were the mercenaries, unable to remain patient in their inns, some yelling with weapons in hand, some silent. Some were gathered in the corners, whispering away with grim looks.

He could not sense any enthusiasm from them, perhaps he had presumed that they were hired, and not fighting out of loyalty.

From time to time, they would look in the same direction.

Kusla knew what they were looking at.

They were looking at the Church bell.

Kusla left the plaza, and continued down the streets.

The pedestrians on the street passed and go, and there was almost no difference compared to yesterday, sans one.

There were people on the sides of the streets, selling metal plates, wooden planks, and even hemp at high prices. There were also many making purchases there, and the whole place was packed. Everyone was trying to deal with the metal balls that would be flying in the coming days. There were also buckets being sold, probably to counter the flames caused by the burning metal balls flying in.

People were carefully choosing their armor, lifting their eyes at the sky uneasily from time to time.

The latest version of the catapult had arrived outside the walls, and no matter how thick or tall the walls were, they were meaningless before it. Such a rumor reached everywhere within a single night.

Nevertheless, Kusla really took exception to that rumor.

Normally speaking, it was pointless to try defending with thick plates. The catapult projectiles were bigger than a human head, and scorching red, falling from high above. No metal plate was going to withstand it. It was likely, the metal plates would be crushed.

Considering that there would be many metal balls falling into the large city, one would understand that putting a metal plate above the head was pretty pointless. If one was lucky enough, he probably would not be hit.

Despite that, everyone was terrified of the catapult that rendered the city walls as nothing. Perhaps it was as Weyland said, that people would put in endless imagination in things they do not understand.

In that case.

The city folk and the mercenaries on the battlefield were already in such a state. What would the people he was going to visit be like? Those who built the bell to redeem people’s souls, only to fail repeatedly.

Kusla simply wanted to visit the blacksmiths for one reason; to build a bell, he would have to visit the bellmaker. However, this visit was not simply to figure out the problem in the creation.

He had to be sure of what he was creating, what were the consequences if he failed.

Kusla asked a few people on his way, and then went towards the city area clustered with gold and silver craftsmen, instead of the blacksmith workshops. Every single building in the area was glamorous, but unfortunately, the splendorous buildings were devoid of life.

Large armies were outside the city, eager to attack. It was natural that the people were worried. The bellmaker doors were shut, looking dilapidated. There were eggs and dog feces pelted upon it, and chicken heads nailed on.

Kusla did not bring Fenesis along simply because he had predicted this situation.

A few gloomy looking soldiers were huddled on the empty alley, looking around.

Kusla could not tell if they were looking for the culprits, or that they were the culprits instead.

Of course, the soldiers noticed Kusla, but they knew from his attire that he was an Alchemist. They hushed their voices, and made no weird sounds.

Kusla snorted, and knocked on the dilapidated looking door of the bellmaker.

“Hey, open up!”

Three times, two times, and after a pause, he knocked another three times.

But there was no response in the workshop.

” I’m not going to do anything to you. I’m an Alchemist. Let me in to talk, lest I involve the higher ups.”

Kusla rattled off a spiel of words, and finally, sounds were heard from the door.

It seemed a table or something was used to fortify the door.

Finally, the lock clicked, and a crease opened.

“I’m the alchemist Kusla. I want to ask about the bell.”

“…”

There was a frail looking bulky man. It appeared he was neither able to sleep or eat well for a week.

“Fo-for what reason?”

“The same as the other alchemists. I want to know what happened when the bell making failed. Also, to look at the workshop. You’re the chief craftsman?”

“…”

Typically, whenever a group failed, the leader would be blamed. There was no doubt from the appearance that he was the one in charge of the bell. He knew he could not refuse, and sighed with resignation as he let Kusla in. The house was typical of a blacksmith, the first level being a wide workshop, and usually, there were at least ten craftsmen working here.

“Pretty cold.”

“…There’s no fire in the house.”

There was a large sand pool for building the bell in the middle of the workshop, and it was likely nobody touched it ever since the bell was removed. There were a few large fragments of the bell left inside, and one could imagine this was where the mold was made.

“So this is where the bell is built?”

“…Yes.”

“Where is the mold sand from? The seaside?”

Kusla went straight to the point. He had no intention of wasting time on idle chat.

“…Yes. The sand used for building is all sea salt…after the Spring Saint festival, we took the melted snow from the river to wash the sand that’s to be used.”

“Looks like…you’re pretty thorough in the washing at least.”

Kusla pinched a bit of sand, and tasted it to find no salt. He spat it out, and found lots of things covered in cloth before the furnace.

“The bell?”

Kusla pointed at the things, and the big man nodded. Kusla went over, and uncovered the cloth. Hidden under the cloth was something really horrible. Of course, it was not a bloodied corpse. It was the fragmented bell.

“What went wrong?”

“Who knows…probably the weather…or probably…”

The big man said lethargically,

“There’s no way we can really figure out why the bell broke…temperature, humidity, proportions. There are too many reasons to think of…for this job, the most important attribute is perseverance. There are times of success, and of failure…we pray to God, to the spirits, and leave it up to the wills above. Even if we fail, we can’t give up. That’s bell making.”

Though sounding weak, the big man was clenching his fists, his fingers turning white.

Surely he was a man with a strong sense of responsibility, so Kusla calmly analyzed.

“Then how about you try again?”

Kusla asked, and the man’s massive body shook.

He looked back at Kusla timidly.

“Can’t do it?”

Kusla asked again, and the man unwittingly lowered his head.

“…I would have continued…if I alone bear all punishment. But…”

“If you fail again, your entire family will be burned at the stake?”

“…”

Kusla did not know if it would really happen.

But the man really believed so, and he had the lights out to hide from the crowd’s strongly skeptical eyes.

But it was to be expected of him, given what happened to his door.

“Then this workshop will be divided. Your work and reputation will be gone.”

Kusla looked around the workshop, and continued,

“The crafting’s didn’t go well, and it fell from somewhere high?”

“…”

The man did not respond, and merely lowered his head, shivering.

“How unlucky.”

“That’s not it!”

The man lifted his head, growling.

Kusla accepted that complaint silently, merely shrugging.

“Just a matter of luck. Most things on this world are.”

He said, drawing his dagger, and tapping the bell fragment with the hilt. It made a wonderful, beautiful sound.

“In the hands of the Heavens, we can only continue to struggle.”

“…”

Kusla picked up a piece the other alchemists had divided, and stuffed it into his own bag.

Then, he looked towards the man, smiling.

“But in this maelstrom of misfortunate, clinging onto what you yearn for isn’t necessarily an enjoyable thing.”

“…You think that because you’re an alchemist.”

“Yes. So be an alchemist.”

The man was flushed red in anger, glaring at Kusla, but soon after, he was deflated, and lowered his head.

Kusla coldly looked back. Whether the man could take a step forth would decide his future fate.

While stopping here would ensure that he would survive, his life will be completely meaningless. Each man only has one death, so what meaning was there to just preserve one’s own life? Why not just take a step forth, with no fear of death or failure, and head towards the goal?

Kusla scanned the empty workshop.

His eyes fell upon the stairs leading to the second floor.

“But I can’t say that I don’t pity you.”

His eyes looked back onto the man, who looked over with a mystified look.

“When you have things you want to protect, the way you see the world changes. I can’t agree with that, but looking down and closing shop…might also be a way of living.”

Kusla said, and turned to leave the workshop.

A few young children were upstairs, peeking down.

Kusla had thought that repeating the same rigorous choices and moving down the correct path to the goal, even with all dangers present, is the one absolute truth to the world. It was just a while ago that he knew of a different option, that just heading into the right direction was enough.

He did not bring Fenesis along, for he did not want her to know the consequences of what she would do. If that little brat knew this bell making would affect lives, she might have martyred herself first.

Since it involved lives, Kusla had to think of something else.

Irine told him before. He was not alone, he had to live with Fenesis.

The catapult outside the city was primed, the people inside the city were terrified. Maybe the fate of the bell would be left to the Heavens, but no alchemist would leave their lives to fate. If this bell failed, they might be killed by the people of the city. For that reason, Kusla had to be prepared.

But what should he do? Thinking about that, he broke into a wry smile.

Kusla did not think Alzen would ignore the situation of the bellmaker. Surely Alzen knew very well what failure would mean.

Despite knowing the consequences however, he was willing to risk Kusla and the others making the bell. His intentions were clear for all to see.

For him, Kusla and the others were tools in the literal sense of the word, to be used, and not to be stored in the shed.

I’m not going to be used by you that easily, so Kusla quietly cursed.

Thus, he had to think seriously.

He could not die here, and could not let the Knights retreat.

Alchemists would never keep their doors shut and pray for the calamity to pass. But at the same time, the present him would not sacrifice everything just to advance.

“…I’m really useless.”

Kusla muttered, reproaching himself, but as he lost his will, he suddenly felt some warmth.

He took a deep breath, letting himself cool down, and exhaled.

A cloud of white mist fluttered from his mouth, white like a certain person.

Kusla returned to the workshop, and shoved a fragment of the failed bell into a listless looking Weyland.

Weyland quietly looked towards Kusla, asking about the situation of the city. The latter merely shrugged, hinting that it could be guessed.

The weight and mass of the alloy would change according to the proportion of the metals. By careful measurement, one could determine the exact proportions. Of course, it was possible to isolate the metals by tossing it into the furnace.

Kusla left the measurement to Weyland, and looked over to Fenesis.

“Thought of anything?”

“…Just a little…”

Fenesis seemed devoid of confidence, but Kusla scanned the stone tablet, and nodded.

“Not bad that you wrote this much. It’s not really a bad thing to write messily.”

Kusla’s words left Fenesis stunned, who looked back at Kusla, her lips pursed while she remained unable to disguise the delight on her face.

“And…a few of them are well written.”

“Eh.”

“When the alloy product is too big, it shattered when cooled. That does happen. How did you know?”

Fenesis had the tendency of puffing her cheeks, but whenever she got praised, she would shrivel, as though wanting others to bully and tease her.

“I-I went to a masonry before. They told me that.”

“To heat it and cool it with cold water?”

“Yes.”

Objects would expand when heated, and contract when cooled. For something sturdy like rocks, the larger they are, the bigger contrast in temperature changes, and cracks were more likely to be formed.

“Improper mixing of metals can work too.”

“…When bread expands, if the flour is not evenly distributed, the bread will crack when heated…”

“So how do you explain the salt mixed in the sand?”

That was the first thing Kusla checked at the bellmaker workshop.

Fenesis answered cautiously,

“There were lots of things around the salt field that cracks after contact. Human hands, faces, metals, stone.”

Kusla had never seen a salt field before.

But Fenesis did. When there is excessive salt, hands and faces will crack. Everything else would be observed by salt, rusting away.

Kusla’s face gloomed.

“…That?”

He remained silent, and she asked with trepidation.

He coughed in an exaggerated manner.

“My knowledge comes from the books.”

“Eh?”

“And your knowledge comes from experience. Your journey—”

Kusla said unhappily,

“Leaves me envious.”

Fenesis was probably taken aback by Kusla ‘s words. For a moment, it seemed she could not understand the meaning to his words.

Perhaps it was because she experienced a cruel escapade, and not a sightseeing journey to be envied by others. It was filled with hardships and sadness, and those who were envious of her knew nothing at all.

Kusla had always lived his life in a closed workshop, learning about the vast world only through books.

Because of that, Fenesis probably understood that Kusla was being sincere. After a while, she said,

“I do feel that if I were you back then, I would have learned lots. It is a pity.”

“…”

“And,”

She gave a gaudy smile.

“You may be able to create a miracle.”

She looked strangely depressed, and one might wonder if that would have happened. If Kusla had not saved her, would she be saved?

Kusla saw the earnesty in Fenesis, and was disgusted in his own folly.

But he instinctively responded,

“That’s impossible.”

He said that confidently. Anything he could not do, he could not.

“…You are surprisingly honest when it comes to such matters.”

Fenesis looked despondent and elated.

And soon, Kusla knew the reason.

“But you saved me.”

Having a helpless little girl rely on him was not a bad thing, or at least, she was no baggage to him, something worth being happy about. The key to the cabinet filled with various surprises was cackling away, and Kusla did all he could to maintain the stoic look.

Then, he answered,

“Better treasure all the useful tools.”

Fenesis reeled her neck in, her green eyes looking up humbly.

But her act was too shoddy.

“Companion, you mean?”

Before she knew it, her eyes looked feisty.

Kusla answered with some bemusement,

“Still considered a baggage.”

“That is fine.”

Fenesis looked towards the stone tablet again.

“If you are willing to bring me along.”

Kusla did not see Fenesis’ expression, but he was sure she was not showing any look of regret.

An alchemist has the keen sight to prospect gold from rocks.

Kusla reached for Fenesis’ head, tapping it twice, and said no more

Soon after, Weyland returned, his arms frozen red from the well water.

“I do want to go help.”

Irine woke up before noon, not on her own will, of course. The workshop in charge of mass producing the dragons sent a man, so Kusla knocked her awake. After some clarification of the situation, Irine gave instructions, and in the meantime, another workshop requested for instructions from her.

Though feeling peeved, Irine clearly gave a few instructions, and sent them off. She then grabbed a piece of bread, wolfing it down, clearly looking famished. While eating, she said,

“But I think this will be difficult.”

She was wearing the workshop clothes, a man’s top, probably loaned by a coworker.

“It’s difficult to make a pure slab of bronze, let alone a bell with curves. That Alzen wants it to be a sure thing? That’s ridiculous.”

“He felt that no matter how ridiculous it is, an alchemist can do it.”

Irine sighed unhappily, as though she was the one being reproached.

“The ones with such hopes to begin with are ridiculous. Seeing how it is, I guess you people don’t understand the reason why a priest has to attend the bellmaking.”

Irine said with disgust, and Kusla looked at her intently.

“There’s a reason for the priest to show up? I thought it’s part of the ritual.”

It was probably that with a priest watching, the bellmaker cannot obfuscate by getting a bell from another town. The bellmaker Kusla found had closed down, and it was impossible for him to say the bell was made, and present it immediately.

“A priest’s prayer may work a little…but his mission is to exert pressure.”

“In what sense?”

“To prevent the bellmaker from running away if it fails. The usual tradition for each city is that the bell is crafted on a given day of a week. If it fails, it’s to be done on the same day of the week, the following week. The priest is there to ensure the bellmaker won’t be scared of failure and dither. The basics of bellmaking is to give it his all.”

“So the priest appears every week, and the bellmaker has no choice but to get down to it?.”

“That’s right.”

The city population often remained where they were, always staying in the familiar streets they were in, and everyone treasured their own reputations.

Of course, reputation meant nothing to alchemists, for they always worked alone, never caring about what others thought.

“You’re doing unnecessary things. Once the bell breaks, it’s difficult to start working again.”

Irine said with sympathy, as though she had personally witnessed that bellmaker’s predicament.

“And there is another reason why the Church sends a priest. Since the bell needs the devil’s tin, he’s there to calm the people down.”

“Devil’s tin?”

Fenesis was really sensitive about such terms, and Irine explained with a grimace,

“Tin is brittle, and isn’t popular with the blacksmiths. Also, it makes a screeching cry.”

Kusla saw the confused look on Fenesis’ face, and had to elaborate,

“Tin cries in the cold.”

“…”

Fenesis narrowed her eyes at Kusla, not again with such stupid jokes, so she implied. This time however, Irine finally took his side.

“It’s true. The lower the temperature, the tin will cackle and creak…they do say tin’s a feminine metal. How rude..”

“And because of that, the pitch of the bell goes higher when tin is added.”

“Iiiiiiii—”

Irine bared her teeth at Kusla, and recovered,

“Now’s not the time to talk about this. Got to get back to work.”

“What about the dragon production?”

Kusla asked, and Irine showed a meaningful smile, one like a blade with a blue light.

“Going very well. Leave it to me.”

Since the proper blacksmith said so, that should be the case.

“See you then.”

Saying that, Irine turned to leave. She’s one feisty lady, so Kusla chuckled as he watched her leave.

Irine’s words gave Kusla some thinking points.

Bellmaking really was different from other metals.

“The blacksmiths in this city don’t focus on reliability, huh?”

It was impossible to realize the real intent of a priest’s presence unless one had lived in the city the entire life, and managed other people. Once Kusla had this information, he could not help but think about a certain issue.

He stared at the main door Irine left from, asking,

“So Weyland, do you have the guts to risk everything on the bell making?”

Kusla deliberately emphasized the word ‘guts’.

It seemed Weyland was poking his face into the furnace to check, and he leisurely answered,

“To be honest, I have no such guts~.”

“Eh?”

Fenesis was obviously a little taken aback.

“Because this is not our job.”

“But.”

Fenesis opened her mouth, hesitant to speak. If they did as Alzen ordered, to craft the bell, then with their accomplishments of the dragons, Kusla and the others would be central figures in the anti-Latria army.

If they could enter Latria successfully, Kusla would be able to get unrestricted access, and track Korad’s footsteps.

In that case, there might be discoveries.

“The rewards for your success, you mean?”

“…”

Fenesis, and even Weyland went quiet. He pondered meaningfully as he stroked his chin.

Bellmaking itself was filled with the possibility of failure, but Alzen ordered them to complete it perfectly

And if they failed, they would earn the ire of the city folk.

Naturally, there was the possibility of success.

“But this situation will depend on how you interpret it.”

Kusla said,

“Once the wood burns up, there will still be ash.”

“So you have a solution~?”

“The important thing is that we don’t fail. To not fail, we just need to give up on success.”

“…?…?”

Fenesis looked confused, not understanding what riddle Kusla was making

Kusla chuckled, and Fenesis immediately reeled her neck back with anger.

“There’s 19 alchemists here. Someone will succeed.”

“…So what?”

“So we can just leave it to them.”

“Ah? But, that——”

“One person needs to succeed, the Knights can begin counterattacking, and we can protect our lives. We just need to pretend to make one.”

Before this, Kusla would not have such a thought.

“It’s really unlike you, Kusla~.”

Weyland said, beaming away. He never denied what Kusla said, probably because he figured out what the latter wanted to say.

“Bellmaking for the others is simply about surviving, but for us, it’s just a huge profit.”

Kusla put his hand on Fenesis’ hand.

“With this fellow’s around, we just need to stay in Latria, and get the chance to obtain the knowledge of the Ancients. There’s no need to stand in the center of the counterattacking army. We just need to find something like the dragons, and the benefit won’t be any less than succeeding in making the bell. There’s no need to work so hard.”

Weyland grinned boldly. Once people obtained some truths, the way they see things will have a riveting change.

Many times, it’s better to take a step back for the long con than to single-mindedly seek the largest benefit. This should be more so if there were those one wanted to protect.

“Leave the dangerous work to those who can only stand out doing such work. It’s dangerous to be too serious about bellmaking.”

“You’re a bad man~.”

“Better than not knowing anything.”

Kusla shrugged, and looked towards Fenesis.

“Moving forward bullishly need not always be the best thing.”

Fenesis reeled her neck in unhappily, either because Kusla was being sarcastic, or…

“But can things go as planned~?”

“Hm? Are the others that unreliable??”

Kusla asked, and Weyland shrugged,

“No. What I’m saying is that the others might push the dangerous work to others too~.”

I see, so Kusla quietly noted,

“There’s unexpectedly a lot of useless fellows.”

“Don’t exclude yourself~.”

“…”

Kusla glared at Weyland, and lifted his head to proudly say,

“I obviously have a plan.”

Weyland was giggling away, bemused.

“Your pride is a lost cause.”

“But entrusting our fates to those guys is a little da dangerous.”

If everyone waited for each other to talk, all there would be left would be a stalemate.

While Kusla and Fenesis went to the Church archives, Weyland visited the blacksmith streets, and probably had grasped what the other alchemists were doing.

Weyland however averted his eyes.

“Go check it out yourselves~.”

“…Hm?”

What is he saying out of a sudden? While Kusla was feeling mystified, Weyland yawned, saying,

“It doesn’t benefit me. Why should I tell you~.”

“…”

Kusla was fuming, and asked

“Then what benefit do you want?”

Upon hearing that, Weyland’s smile got bigger, for Kusla was catching on.

“Even if we’re pretending to make the bell, we do have to report to our boss, no? Will leave this to you~.”

“…Is that so?”

Alzen might do something if he knew of their lackadaisical attitude. He might even take Fenesis as a hostage.

Thus, they had to act rigorous.

“For me, I shall provide the intel you’re unable to, Kusla~.”

“You…”

Kusla was momentarily speechless, and could only glare at Weyland.

“You want a fight?”

“Kuku. This is what I’m talking about. If you’re going to another workshop, you’re likely to start a quarrel~.”

“…”

Kusla knew that Weyland spoke the truth, and was unable to refute, looking bitter.

At this moment, Weyland sensed another stare from elsewhere, and looked towards it.

“So what are you looking at?”

“Eh.”

Fenesis’ ears twitched, and she reeled her neck timidly.

The green eyes were rolling. It seemed she was interested in Weyland’s words.

“Meeting…people?”

Kusla ignored Fenesis, and instead grimaced at Weyland. The latter did not say anything, and merely laughed away.

Finally, Kusla tapped Fenesis on the head to pass the matter off.

“Working together is very important. It’s rare to have the numbers, so we should make use of them and do whatever we’re good at.”

“Couldn’t you have done this right from the beginning~.”

Like wheat, Weyland shook away Kusla’s words, and put on his coat.

“Time is of the essence. If there’s any benefit, I’ll encourage them~.”

“…Work hard already.”

Kusla sounded peeved, but he really trusted Weyland’s work. Weyland had the people skills to get along with others.

“Same to you~.”

Weyland said, and left the workshop. Kusla watched him leave, and sighed.

Kusla was simply ‘interest’, not the familial kind.

However, such an insistence of him was strangely immature. Once again, Kusla let out a sigh.

Kusla and Fenesis were left in the workshop, seated before the furnace, dealing with their work.

“Are there any more?”

There were various item names on the tablet, from precious metals and stones to minerals.

There were also animals listed, from cows, horses, chickens, to frogs, newts and bats. There were also body parts listed, bones, flesh, eyeballs, organs, brain.

Also, there were herbs, poisonous grass listed. It was said that adding these items in after brewing the alloy will increase the effectiveness.

Kusla knew that most were ineffectual, but he wrote them down anyway.

Suddenly, Fenesis picked up the chalk, and wrote a few words. Seeing that, Kusla chuckled.

“The crest of the Knights?”

“The Church’s things, pendants.”

“Well, it’s true…if we throw these things into the furnace and it fails, we got some people to blame…”

Of course, Kusla was chuckling for a different reason.

“You of all people thought of these. Do you really believe in God?”

Even Kusla never thought of Fenesis to be this bold.

Yet Fenesis said, undaunted,

“Both the Knights and the Church have done things defying God’s teachings.”

Now she’s cuter and more reliable now, so Kusla thought.

“Let’s experiment them.”

“Yes.”

Fenesis solemnly agreed, and stood up.

Both of them melted and mixed the alloy metals they made, first increasing the amount of copper, and then adjusting the amount of tin.

The optimal proportion of bronze alloy needed for the bell was 80% copper, 20% tin. Both of them made gradual adjustments to the alloy. They already knew the amount of copper and tine required, so Kusla had Fenesis calculate how to do so. She hunched down before the tablet, bending her fingers as she frantically calculating, resembling a squirrel finicking over where it should hide its food. She was cute.

She was becoming physically capable, and she had basically remembered how to dump in the coal and wood. Though she remained inexperienced in controlling the temperatures, but it was not something that could be learned through words, only through repetitions. She was like a sponge, absorbing knowledge.

Seeing her like this, Kusla suddenly thought,

Weyland pushed the troublesome work to him, probably having expected that he would accept. Surely it was not because he often got into disputes with alchemists, and could not go to the other workshops to gather information. Weyland knew this mission was pointless and boring to himself, but not to Kusla. In other words, while this work might be pointless, with Fenesis around, Kusla would not try to escape responsibility.

What the girl before him got, what Kusla got.

Kusla listlessly watched Fenesis hurry around, and sighed.

It was as Weyland thought.

They kept toiling on, and before they knew it, it was already sunset.

Of course, Weyland and Irine did not return to the workshop. Usually at such times, Kusla would have brought Fenesis out to dinner, but the work was not done. Kusla grabbed an errand boy from another workshop passing by the door, shoved a few silver coins, and had him buy back some food.

At this moment, Fenesis kept adding coal before the furnace, adjusting the bellows. There was a stove in the furnace, filled with copper and tin. After toiling for the entire day, she finally got to relax.

All they had to do afterwards was to wait for the charcoal to finish burning, and let the molten metals cool. The errand boys returned with dinner.

The foods were all bought from the stalls, hard black breads, meat with tendons, and cheap yogurt.

Kusla laid out the bread and the other foods, checked for any strange things, before handing them over to Fenesis. There were 19 alchemists in the city, and some might want to eliminate competition. That, or that the enemy could have snuck in a few assassins.

But Fenesis frowned seeing Kusla this cautious.

“The size of the bread should be the same. You are being impolite.”

Faced with Fenesis’ rebuke, Kusla could only smile.

Fenesis was probably concerned with the situation inside the furnace, for she moved a long box over, and sat on it, eating as she observed the fire. Kusla sat on another wooden box next to her.

He peered at her while she remained brightened, and got a feeling that she had sat there for years.

The new materials added into the stove seemed to have melted.

The final separation would be a really difficult job.

But the hope remained that the new alloy would be more useful than the old.

Kusla had a thought, but, and took out the parchment in his clutches, laying it out. The effect was already there. It contained the words Korad left, and finding the parchment alone was a sign of Fenesis’ worth.

It might be a map of a path leading towards Magdala.

What Korad left behind might be related to the myths.

“What are you scheming again?”

Fenesis suddenly asked.

“Hm?”

“You look like you are up to some evil.”

Kusla snorted.

“This is a treasure map. Of course I’m looking evil.”

The appearance of this thing might affect them in a way they could never predict.

“Actually, I really don’t care about this damn war. All I want is to follow Korad’s footsteps.”

Kusla did not care about whether the Northern lands were ruled by the Knights or the Pagans.

Why he feared the Knights would lose, was not because his research funds came from the Knights.

Kusla thought that the pious Fenesis probably would not think of this logic. However, she stared at the parchment in his hand, saying nothing.

“What? You’re not angry?”

“Eh?”

“This is a war on God’s justice, and I treat it as nothing.”

Kusla beamed, and Fenesis might have some agreement with that statement.

“According to God’s teachings, starting wars by itself is wrong.”

“Guess you win.”

Kusla said, and Fenesis puffed her chest proudly.

“But it will be good if we can hurry and find as soon as possible.”

She showed an intimate smile.

Seeing her show him gentleness, Kusla himself ended up displeased.

Surely it was because of her tenderness that he had to notice the difference between the ideal and reality.

A feeling a guilt rose up his heart.

“It may not be something worth looking forward to you.”

“Eh?”

Kusla had no heart to continued. Even if he did, he could not change the reality.

In that case, he should remain silent, but Kusla spoke up.

“…You saw what happened in Kazan, right? The cursed bloodline doesn’t refer only to the appearance. If the myths are real, the path Korad went through contained something unbelievable…this journey will be scary and painful to you.”

Because, if it was real, there was proof that the cursed bloodline referred not only to appearance…

If Kusla had to pursue his own Magdala, surely it would hurt Fenesis.

“…”

Kusla was staring at the parchment the entire time he spoke, and he did not see Fenesis’ expression.

“Not at all.”

Thus, for a moment, Kusla was late to react. What did she mean?

“Surely this will not happen.”

Kusla lifted his head to see Fenesis show a tragic smile.

“Even if my people were massacring people with superior technology and feared, as it was in Kazan,”

She paused, looking as though she would cry at any given moment, but she straightened her back, making herself confident.

“I still believe the technology is neither good nor bad. It all depends on who uses it. In fact, you protected us with the dragons.”

When they broke out Kazan, Fenesis stood on a dragon, smiling.

She said she felt alive.

Thus, Kusla finally understood the true meaning behind her words.

“Your dream is to create the sword of Orichalcum. Not to hurt others, but to protect. In that case…in that case, you can definitely prove to others that the technology is neither good nor evil. You can definitely do it, for you are obeying your dreams.”

Fenesis said, beaming,

“I often thought that you could rid me the curse of my bloodline.”

It was a fleeting dream formed from a flickering flame.

Kusla probably had such a thought, because he could not believe the girl before him could trust him completely. Or perhaps, the girl cursed by the ancient sage was before her, the tragic tale seeming so surreal to him.

Kusla thought that perhaps it was a little of both.

Once he realized this, Kusla inadvertently reached for her teary, smiling face.

He frowned, as though checking her existence with a stare.

“…How many times have I told you, don’t hope for me to create miracles.”

“It is no miracle. It is a deduction…gained from observation and experience.”

The face in Kusla’s palm looked timid, blinking as she said.

Seeing her like this, he chuckled.

With some self-depreciation involved.

Kusla sighed. He never expected her to hope that he would undo the curse on her. It was the antithesis of why he thought the journey would hurt Fenesis.

The moment there were new discoveries, Kusla himself might not be able to prevent new discoveries from being used for invasion. Even he started to have the notion that it was best they did not find anything.

Surely Fenesis too understood this reality. Yet she said those words despite that. Kusla could vaguely understand, and thus, he sighed.

The world was overly chaotic, and he was simply an alchemist hired by a massive organization. He found himself small before his grand goal of seeking the sword of Orichalcum. Life is short, and the things one can get in a lifetime is pitifully little.

However, Fenesis’ bloodline might help him break through that common rationale.

It was a cursed bloodline gained by numerous threads, bound together.

Even the God of metals would not remain buried in a simple manner. Perhaps he himself should not harbor any hopes.

Despite that, just once, he would let himself harbor expectations.

So he thought, and laughed sarcastically, and at the same time, reeled back the hand touching Fenesis’ cheek.

How can I allow myself to dither over this? Kusla lambasted himself. Can’t be careless. This world is cruel. Without any determination, I’ll be crushed by reality.

“Don’t make such hopeful deductions based on your own opinions.”

Kusla said with a little teasing.

“…I-I have no hopes on anything…”

Upon being teased, Fenesis’ ears twitched, and she stood up a little angrily, before continuing with work.

The more the alloy was mixed, the more difficult it was to separate them, and the results would be more unpredictable. In contrast, Fenesis was overly white compared to the pitch-black alchemists. Perhaps I’m worried of getting her involved in my life, so Kusla thought.

But in the face of this everchanging world, he believed it was a normal reaction.

Thus, once the conversation ended, and after some silence, Kusla’s first reaction to a sound was relief.

“Wh-what is that sound?”

Fenesis stopped, ignoring that she was teased as she asked Kusla.

The sound was astonishingly loud.

“Has the sky fallen?.”

Kusla said, and sighed.

“This is the sound made when the world ends.”

Another boom echoed outside the window, followed by rock and wood being shattered, the earth shaking. Fenesis’ face paled, and she turned flustered. Kusla opened the workshop door, poking his head out. There were no stars to be seen in the night, probably due to the clouds. A third boom echoed, followed by a noise akin to a giant’s footstep.

Whenever there was a boom, the pedestrians on the streets would sprawl upon the ground in fear, leaving aside whether it was useful

Such showed how quiet the city had been.

“There’s no bell even when the city’s in danger. It’s a little unpleasant.”

God has forsaken us.

Such a saying would not be an exaggeration at this point…

“Technology is technology.”

Kusla said, and a fourth landing noise echoed.

The catapult had begun attacking outside the city walls.

“It all depends on who uses it.”

The fifth metal ball ended, and finally, someone blew the horn, as though declaring that they were present.

Without God around, they would have to depend on themselves, and the roars of tragic determination followed.

Kusla shrugged, and closed the door.

He returned into the workshop, finding Fenesis collapsed.

“The city’s big. Won’t hit us for the time being.”

Also, there were no shouts. It seemed the enemy had no intention to attack for the time being, so it was probably a threat and a test. The assembly of the catapult was faster than expected. It seemed the leisurely attitude from before was out of pretense.

How would the Knights react? If the mass productions of the dragons were in time, should they struck? Or do they wait until the bell’s made?

Kusla had such thoughts swirling in his mind as he cuddled a trembling Fenesis.

Soon after, Weyland returned with information.

The words inscribed on the metal balls were,

This shall be God’s judgment. Two nights to retreat from Nilberk.

“Had a look at the plaza. It’s really chaotic there, like a city with a rebellion going on~.”

It was simply a commotion, but the soldiers in the city gathered with arms, and it was not difficult to think of a rebellion going on.

“What about Irine?”

“She’s fine. Never noticed the sounds outside when the dragon production’s at the crucial point~.”

“To be expected of her.”

Kusla chuckled, and sighed,

“So, we’re going to break through with the dragons again?”

Kusla looked towards Weyland, who too smiled.

“To where~?”

It was a city facing the sea. Even with boats, they might not be able to evacuate everyone. If the higher ups had any intention of escaping, the subordinates would have revolted.

Kusla suddenly had a thought of the term ‘one fell swoop’.

How would a captured rat try to escape?

While Kusla was in deep thought, the workshop door rang.

“Lord Alzen has words for you.”

The messenger was panting hard, drifting in sweat all over.

“He wants us to enact a miracle?”

Kusla tried to sound calm, but the grim look on his face remained.

“The mercenaries are making a ruckus. Only the lot of you can settle this.”

Kusla looked towards Weyland, who merely shrugged.

It seemed the trapped rat’s utmost priority was to prevent them from killing each other.

“What do you mean, we have to be there?”

It was troublesome to receive excessive hopes.

The messenger replied.

“They want a miracle.”

Looks like things are getting troublesome, so Kusla thought.

The city walls were powerless before the latest model of catapults, and such news had spread all over the streets.

It was still the middle of the night, pedestrians moving to and fro, and the city remained dark. Everyone was worried that if they made a light, they would end up as a target for the metal balls.

They knew it was impossible to see from outside the city, but this was all they could do. It was probably a subconscious act.

The mercenaries too were no exception, and they lost all bearings, their actions erratic…

The messenger arriving at the workshop informed of a ridiculous commotion caused by recklessness. They could not leave it be however.

The cause was a young mercenary getting himself drunk at a tavern, and had a verbal spat.

The topic was regarding which squad was more outstanding. Such disputes were common, and typically, whenever they started fighting, there would be a few punches, some injuries.

The reason why this got serious was due to the metal balls flying over the walls.

“Can’t get them to settle down?”

“Seems tough to handle~.”

Such were the thoughts of the two alchemists after hearing everything.

“The mercenaries have utmost belief in your miracles. They have no malice.”

“But it’s because of them boasting this incident that we have to calm them down with a miracle, right?”

While the mercenaries were gleefully boasting at the bar tables about how they had protection from God, the metal balls suddenly fell. The terrified fellows surely wanted to find people to vent on to cover up their fears and anxieties.

Thus, someone yelled, demanding for the so-called miracles, and the dark night was eerily quiet. It was obvious, without looking up, that the catapult attacks ended.

“If Archduke Kratal or Lord Alzen are to appear, it will be a clash between squads. The other mercenaries will too ask for their superiors, but Lord Alzen is busy with the other commanders, and has no time to deal with this.”

“Also, they probably won’t want to end up fighting each other.”

Since everyone was sharing the same fate in the same city.

“But things will get out of hand if left be.”

And the mercenaries believing in the miracle Kusla and the other enacted would surely have their grudges.

They could not ask Alzen to deal with them, and if left be, the mercenaries’ pride would be wounded. Thus, their ire would be directed at Kusla and the others. They would think, why aren’t you helping us!

The panting messenger came to explain that matters were dire, and that they themselves could not deal with the situation.

Kusla himself found this ridiculous, but such was commonplace.

Alchemists were merely tools, and miracles were merely a tool.

“Please enact a miracle for them to soothe them.”

It seemed the messenger himself yearned for a miracle to quell the anxiety from the overbearing metal balls.

“Also, if you’re able to calm those mercenaries now, your standing amongst the forces shall be unshakeable.”

Even at such moments, Alzen never forgot about reminding others of the interests involved. Kusla himself was impressed.

But he was right.

After some thought, Kusla said to an uneasy Fenesis,

“We brought quite a few tools to process the ores, right?”

“Y-yes.”

“What are you planning~?”

Weyland asked, and Kusla answered,

“Douse those hot-blooded fellows some cold water. It’s a habit now, isn’t it?”

“Hm?”

Kusla ignored Weyland, who pondered with a hand on his chin, and instructed Fenesis,

“Get the bottle marked indicated for water and ice. It’s dangerous. Don’t shake it.”

Fenesis nodded stiffly, and teetered into the workshop.

Next to Kusla, Weyland lifted his head with realization.

“I heard the inquisitor would perform miracles when forcing pagans to convert~.”

“Doing the same now.”

Kusla said honestly. At this moment, Fenesis brought the bottle out carefully, and he received it.

“I’ll take this.”

“And the miracle?”

The messenger asked.

Kusla merely shrugged.

“Lead the way. Once they draw swords, there’s no stopping them.”

The messenger nodded, and led Kusla’s group to the place of incident.

The tavern was located at a very messy street, a bunch of drunkards flailing their weapons vigorously. Given the situation, one could expect something happening.

The messenger led a few men through the drunkards, only to bump into a human wall. The lot of them were wielding weapons, their faces flushed red, reeking of alcohol as they growled at the center of the crowd.

Fenesis was stunned, and even Kusla had goosebumps.

Before the wanton violence, the alchemists could only deal with them through violence.

At this moment, the messenger exhibited the guts he should have.

“Stand back! Give way for the Maiden and the Alchemists!”

The messenger sounded exaggerated, but Kusla knew that in such situations, any sign of weakness from them would lead to them being overwhelmed by the surrounding drunks.

Kusla leaned a little forward, his lips showing a smirk. Weyland too pretended to look fearless. Such was their specialty. Kusla leaned towards Fenesis, whispering

“It doesn’t matter how nervous you are, but grit your teeth, don’t show fear, and act Maidenly.”

Fenesis lifted her head towards Kusla, and did as he said, gritting her teeth gingerly, seemingly pouting like a child. She put her hands on the sides of her lips, relaxing herself, and stopped moving. Such movements sapped her strength entirely.

Her expression could probably fool at least 8 out of 10.

“Right, let’s move.”

Kusla nudged her on the back, ushering her forth first.

The mercenaries moved aside, glaring at the entourage with heinous eyes, as though they were accused of heresy.

Some of them were already fuming, that God’s cruelty and their comrades’ mistake doomed them to this predicament, yet there were some who knew no shame, talking of some miracles. Who else was supposed to support them?

They passed through the human wall, and before their eyes were the skeptics and the fervents facing off.

“O Alchemist!”

The battered mercenaries forced to the sides of the streets yelled in unison.

The one who offered flowers to Fenesis was amongst them.

They were all delighted, as though witnessing God on the battlefield…

Or perhaps, an easier way to describe them would be that they were martyrs surrounded by pagans.

They were probably about to be questioned by their pursuers.

Since we have God’s protection, let’s show them!

“They don’t believe our miracle!”

“It’s one thing if our names are sullied. We can’t forgive those who mock our saviors!”

The mercenaries complained, only to hear cold sneers,

“Show us your miracle then.”

The surrounding mercenaries hurriedly moved aside.

There was a man with a battleaxe resting on his back, and clearly he was a warrior capable of slaughtering his way through the battlefield. The vibe he had was different from those behind. He probably was one who experienced tens, even hundreds of battles.

“Your existence in this damned city is an eyesore. What saved you is luck. It’s common on the battlefield.”

The man spat once he said that.

Kusla understood a little of the man’s unhappiness.

He too was unhappy about how Fenesis believed in luck.

Look at reality. There’s no miracle! Don’t spread your laxity to others!

Or rather, they were not as lucky as Kusla’s group when they brought through the siege.

There’s no protection from God, we scraped our way to escape, and now we’re in despair. Now in such a situation, when someone boasts about God’s protection…

Kusla felt a headache, but the drawn sword had to be sheathed back.

“You’re really unlucky, huh? If you ignore them, you’ll be branded as tratiors. If you come over, you’ll be begged for a miracle that doesn’t exist.”

He got increasingly brash, probably uneasy about the situation himself.

“Show us a miracle. This is a night when a demon descends.”

He mocked, and the surrounding people leered, entrenched within their smiles were boiling anger and anxiety. They appeared to be a bunch familiar with the cruelty of the world, howling away. Trying to fool us with a miracle that does not exist?

“I heard them say that thing of yours is called hellfire? That it scatters the enemy? You probably shooed them away with torches, didn’t you?”

“If this is called a miracle, that’s naive of you!”

Amongst the verbal lashings, one could vaguely hear teeth being grounded.

The restraint showed by their side was really praiseworthy.

Kusla coughed once, and opened the bottle.

“Hm? What? Apology wine?”

“Or some bottle with the Holy Spirit?”

“Hehe, some fairy tale?”

The men opposite guffawed.

“You want to see miracles?”

Kusla nonchalantly replied, and the mercenaries’ smiles froze.

“Hey, gather all the torches here, brighten up this place. Also, get a table and a wooden bowl over.”

Kusla ordered the mercenaries next to him, and they did as told. Kusla shot an icy look towards the mercenaries opposite.

“I’ll show you a miracle.”

“…”

The leader’s hand remained on the hilt of the axe, looking unfazed. However, the men behind him were clearly starting to panic.

No, wait, maybe…

Kusla ignored their reactions, leaned over to Fenesis’ ear, and whispered,

“Read a Bible Scripture. Any will do. Just make sure it sounds cold.”

“…?”

Fenesis looked over at Kusla skeptically, and the latter repeated,

“Just make sure it sounds cold.”

Once he was done, the mercenaries got the items from a nearby stall, setting them up in the middle of the street. The torches were all gathered, and the table was immediately brightened like a painting.

With the mercenaries looking, he held a bottle.

His callous attitude intimidated them instead.

“Are you summoning a snake?.”

The mockery was weak.

Weyland knew what Kusla was going to do, checked the surface and back of the wooden bowl, before putting it back. A wordless Kusla saw Fenesis approach with doubt, and asked,

“Figured it out?”

“….”

Kusla snorted, as though telling her to wait silently.

Then, without looking at the onlookers, “Too bad!” he yelled.

“A miracle of fire will be impossible.”

“…Then what are you showing us?”

Someone asked with disappointment. Kusla smiled, saying,

“Since the weather is so cold, let’s summon an ice spirit.”

“Ah, huh? A spirit?”

Kusla said boldly, stupefying them completely.

“I’ll show a miracle. With the blessings of the ice spirit, I can create ice flowing like water.”

The onlookers were stunned, as though someone was about to present a round square.

Kusla looked towards Fenesis, raising his chin.

Fenesis too was stunned. She did not know what Kusla wanted to do, and was flustered seeing Kusla instruct her.

“You’re the one starting this miracle.”

He deliberately teased, and she was infuriated hearing that, only to cool down a little.

“If anything…”

“Of course. This is life.”

Hearing that, Fenesis looked up at Kusla unhappily. It seemed she had prepared herself for the worst.

“She’s a Holy Maiden who served the Diocese. Starting too many miracles will attract much attention, so I shall take over this time.”

Kusla’s introduction was too bombastic, and Fenesis lowered her head, her face flushed.

“The means used by a conman is child’s play to an alchemist, but she is a real Maiden. You can tell. This is something insignificant to the world you’re familiar with.”

Once done, Kusla tapped on Fenesis’ foot.

She shriveled in shock, and he could only whisper to her, “Stop dithering. Hurry.”

Fenesis gulped. Kusla knew she was not trying to stifle her sobbing. She was sounding determined.

It seemed that, having spent time with him for a long time, her guts grew.

Fenesis began,

“Before God created the sun, the sky was dark, the seas were frozen, the earth was covered in frost.”

It was a famous psalm depicting how God lavished grace upon the people.

It was cold enough, but if she continued, Spring would arrive.

“God…ow?!”

Kusla stomped on Fenesis’ foot, cutting her off.

“At that moment, a long, interesting river spread through the land. The water of that river is right here.”

Kusla pointed at the bottle on the table.

There was a marker indicating water and ice.

Everyone present looked over.

“As everyone knows, water can become ice, and ice can become water. This thing however is water, and ice. Of course, it is not a mixture of them. This is water that can be found only in the ancient frozen land. Currently, this land is graced by God, blessed by the sun. Once this water is poured out, it will freeze immediately. Strange. Of course, it is impossible to keep this miracle sealed in the bottle without the blessings of God and the spirit. But with the power of the Maiden, this isn’t difficult”

“S-stop bluffing! Hurry and show us!”

Someone shouted.

Kusla looked over, and beamed at the person.

He seemed overwhelmed by Kusla, and retreated behind his companions.

At this moment, the curiosity of the onlookers reached its peak.

Kusla shot Fenesis a look.

“Stand aside, and pretend to pray towards the bowl.”

Saying that, Kusla opened the seal to the bottle, and once he saw her pray nervously, he raised it.

“This is a miracle those calling upon his power can use!”

Then, in an exaggerated manner, Kusla poured the water into the bowl.

“Wh-at!?”

“Ohh! Water!”

The water flowed out like a fine thread, landing in the bowl Fenesis prayed into, before becoming ice. The water in the bowl became ice, becoming thicker, immediately forming a hill.

Kusla emptied the contents, shook the last drop out of the bottle, and the water there too froze and clung onto the neck.

It looked as though ice had flowed out from the bottle, completely different from the water people were used to, and completely ignored the worldly logic God created.

“So,”

Kusla slammed the bottle onto the table.

“So, which of you said the miracle is a fake?”

A pile of ice filled the bowl. It supposedly was water from the bottle. Most importantly, everyone could tell that even with snow in the bottle, there was no way this much was possible.

The bottle contained things that could not have.

Silence filled the surroundings, and one could hear a pin drop.

It lasted only a moment however, before rapturous cheers occurred.

“A miracle! We have a miracle!”

The mercenaries who escaped Kazan raised their hands, hollering. At that instance, the surrounding fellows broke into an uproar.

The bickering mercenaries stood with disbelief. They were unable to believe the fact before their eyes.

Kusla smiled at Fenesis, who sighed unhappily. It seemed she was displeased about involving herself with this fraud.

“Never thought you would think of using glacial acetic acid~.”

Weyland whispered to Kusla .

“Fro…?”

Seeing the skeptical look on Fenesis’ face, he shrugged, and stuffed the ice in the bowl back into the bottle..

“Glacial acetic acid. It’s ordinary vinegar.”

“Eh…”

Fenesis was shocked beyond words. She took the bowl, sniffed at it, and looked away, repulsed by the smell.

“But this is highly concentrated. If vinegar and water are mixed together, it makes it difficult to freeze. Pure vinegar however is different. This thing will freeze when cooled a little, and that’s why it’s called glacial. It has a unique characteristic.”

“If you don’t shake it, it won’t freeze~.”

Fenesis was completely stunned, You are treating me as a fool again! probably out of anger at being teased again.

“I’m serious. You saw that, didn’t you?”

Hearing that, Fenesis nodded with much frustration.

“Those seeing it for the first time will call it a miracle. If they know the truth, they’ll probably go crazy.”

Kusla quietly snickered. It was their faults for being fooled after all.

“Mission complete. Time to hurry back to the workshop——”

Kusla said, only to stop.

The leader removed his headscarf, handed his battleaxe to his companion, and approached Kusla with a squirm. The celebrating mercenaries next to Kusla immediately got put their hands down, ready to throw arms. However, the man did not throw his headscarf down to the ground.

He clenched a fist, his muscles were so tense, the veins on the back of the knuckle popping.

“Is there anything?”

Kusla asked. The man bowed slightly, lowering his head before Kusla, saying,

“We fought our way our, losing a few of our brothers to make it to Nilberk. We found this place forsaken by God. We couldn’t help ourselves when someone just mentioned miracles.”

The mercenaries who escaped from Kazan looked a little gaudy after hearing the confession.

Luck could never be equally distributed.

“But that was really the real deal. The real thing.”

“So we said——”

A mercenary on Kusla’s side was about to speak up, only to be stopped.

The man remained bowed, looking extremely serious.

“Please help us. No, surely you are God’s envoys sent to this city.”

The man said.

“Surely you can build the bell for this city tower?”

Kusla was about to speak up.

“Right! You fellows are the real deal! Please! Build a bell to show everyone God has not forsaken us!”

Even the mercenaries watching from the outside swarmed in, each of them staring wide eyed and Kusla’s group.

Even if there was a calamity from the Heavens, as long as the city bell rang, they could remain fearless.

People would feel that there would be nothing that could defeat them, as long as the weather was fine, and their hunger was satiated. Any time they felt abandoned by God, they would lose courage and sanity.

“Save us! Grant us a miracle!”

“Grant us a miracle!!”

The mercenaries begged with bloodshot eyes, their hands outstretched.

All Kusla could do was to prevent Fenesis from being pulled over by the mercenaries.

“Back down! Back down! Don’t hurt our saviors! They hold many miracles! Don’t be rude!”

The Kazan mercenaries stood to shield off Kusla’s group, but their expressions towards him were the same as the others

Those eyes were saying, we have hope now that you are willing to help.

But bellmaking itself was not that simple. That was why Kusla gave up on the challenge.

He misplayed his hand.

Kusla forgot about the folly of the many. Perhaps he himself was infected by Fenesis’ naivete.

“A miracle! A miracle! A miracle!”

“Grant us God’s blessings! Show to everyone that God has not abandoned us!”

The mercenaries raised their swords and axes, cheering victoriously. Kusla looked over to Weyland.

Weyland grimaced, but did not shake his head.

Any ordinary people, having witnessed a miracle, would ask for another.

“You’re our saviors!!”

Kusla could only accept the joyous cheers of the mercenaries.

What will you do if we can’t repay your expectations?

Kusla thought of the bellmaker’s workshop.

He did not think the mercenaries were any wiser than the city folk.

Act 5

With the believers escorting them, Kusla’s group returned to the workshop, and unexpectedly found a carriage sent over by Alzen.

After getting onto the carriage, Kusla heaved a sigh of relief. The nature of the issue at hand had changed.

The Knights headquarters facing the center plaza was bright, and the armed mercenaries crowded the places, making it seem extremely secure.

The carriage broke through the ranks, slowly moving forward. The commotion caused by Kusla’s gang seemed to have spread out, and all the mercenaries at the plaza immediately reacted knowing the carriage ferried them, swarming it in an instant.

The pressure while being surrounded by barbarians was not to be taken lightly.

“Those Saints are really amazing, remaining calm even when surrounded by hordes.”

Kusla muttered.

Even Weyland could not laugh at this joke.

“So, what do we do?”

The men outside were patting at the wooden windows of the carriages, and the glass lamp hanging from the ceiling shook.

Even the stoic Kusla found it difficult to remain silent.

“Guess…we’re giving up on the plan~…”

Looking this situation, if they were to work callously, they would be pushed to the brink of danger.

Despite that, Kusla did not have any wonderful plan to build the bell.

“It’ll be best if the other alchemists get to finish it first~.”

They just needed to be done before the catapult could officially be in use.

But given how developments had turned out, the alchemists might die before they got to leave on their adventure.

Those taking action would be eyed.

And Kusla took action, performing a false miracle to the mercenaries.

Kusla held his chin up, but could not think of anything.

His powerlessness left him nauseated.

A little, chilly hand was pressed upon Kusla’s other hand.

“Surely it will be fine.”

Who else but Fenesis would say such things?

“Do you really believe that miracles will happen?”

Kusla asked sarcastically, and Fenesis smiled, looking a little perturbed.

“This is a deduction gained through experience.”

“Ah?”

Fenesis tenderly spoke,

“Because I managed to survive till now.”

“Pff.”

Weyland laughed.

Kusla stared at Fenesis, widemouthed, and gave an uncertain smile.

“Well…that is true…”

Fenesis too showed a gaudy smile, and held Kusla’s hand harder than before.

“And now, I am not alone.”

“…”

In the past, whenever Fenesis encountered a difficult situation, she would have to face it alone.

She had to traverse this vast world alone.

Suddenly, Kusla felt strangely embarrassed about his self-given moniker, the restless alchemists.

“A peculiar lady you are.”

Kusla groaned, and looked up.

“I guess you are right. And you?”

With a taunting look, Fenesis asked,

Kusla smirk.

“Just an alchemist God won’t care about.”

He would have to find the gold bar in the pool of lead. He had no choice but to succeed.

The carriage finally made its way through the chaotic crowds, escaping into the Knights Headquarters.

The Headquarters itself was bustling like a beehive, and once they were brought into Alzen’s room, all chatter quieted down, the huge contrast causing a deafening ringing in the ears.

“How popular you are.”

Unlike the chaotic atmosphere outside, Alzen seemed relatively calm.

“Got hounded by some wild dogs.”

Kusla glared at Alzen, as though blaming him for everything. However, Alzen merely made a rational decision from his viewpoint, and had no blame on this.

“Well done.”

“Really?.”

“We were so close to a riot just now.”

Alzen simply admitted, but Kusla did not think of it as a joke.

“Some yapped about wanting to hang the people who made the catapults, but naturally, we cannot, or there will be infighting. It’s common to cut off the weakest link within when losing to the enemy outside.”

At this moment, Kusla had an inkling.

“So, the one who spread news about our act at the plaza was…”

“Yes, I decided it, personally.”

The bell shall be made by the alchemists who created this miracle. Behave until it is built.

It was likely that Alzen, upon receiving the report, quickly turned the situation around.

Kusla was unsure of how bad the commotion at the plaza was, but according to Alzen’s methods, it seemed it was a really volatile situation.

Despite that, the situation remained bleak.

“About the bellmaking, those little tricks of miracles won’t work.”

So what do you intend to do? Kusla implied spitefully.

They stoked the mercenaries’ expectations, and made promises with them.

Of course, he himself was cornered on the tavern alley, unable to muster courage to tell the mercenaries, that there was little likelihood of him making the bell.

“You can only do it.”

Alzen said.

I knew you would say that, so Kusla thought.

You high ranking officers are all the same, thinking that you just need to order, push the mission to your subordinates, and they can perform.

You ignore the worries of the subordinates, and refute any complaints they have.

If there was any failure, the subordinates would be discarded like pawns..

Such was the way of the world.

And thus, he had to rely on himself for everything.

“At this point, you have to do it either way.”

Alzen said, without a doubt. Kusla was speechless...

Kusla kept thinking amidst the silence, trying to find a way out using this thought as ‘Interest’.

“And if we fail?”

He expressed his question.

Neither he nor Alzen were looking at each other.

“Then you shall bear the responsibility accordingly.”

The consequence was not as simple as them being ignored.

If Kusla failed, there would be increasing proof that God had forsaken Nilberk.

What would they do to prevent this? It was easy to guess. The Knights would decry Kusla’s gang as fraud alchemists and Maiden, that they were spies from the enemy aiming to break the unity of the Knights. That was the only way they could protect their dignity.

God has not abandoned this city. This is a trial for us. Come, let us show the despicable enemy what Justice is.

Surely that would be the final outcome.

Since it got this far, there had to be a live sacrifice. The Knights had to divert everyone’s concern to a certain point, a symbol akin to a bell, God, an idol to gather the hearts of many.

Any living person standing on this position would surely be crushed by the heavy pressure.

Alzen’s intent was clear.

Kusla’s hand stealthily reached for the waist. There was a dagger there.

There were no guards in the room.

Would he think a rat would not bite?

Kusla himself would surely bite just to survive.

“I have a question~.”

The moment Kusla’s fingers reached for the button, Weyland’s voice echoed leisurely.

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘at this point’? Were there any available options beforehand?”

Weyland definitely spoke up knowing Kusla’s intentions.

Alzen turned his head around, and Kusla had to retract the hand on his waist.

“Hmph.”

The superior who escaped Kazan along with them said,

“We might have room for failure if we were not so cornered to begin with.”

“Hm?”

Kusla blurted.

Alzen looked over at Kusla with a blank look.

“You know about the bellmaker’s situation now, don’t you.”

Kusla cursed, and Alzen slowly looked away.

He said,

“I do.”

“And you’re still …”

Kusla got increasingly agitated, wanting to draw the dagger out while Alzen looked aside.

“But we still have room for failure.”

“!”

Alzen’s decisive tone had Kusla stopping himself. He glanced over, and naturally noticed the latter was about to draw the dagger.

However, his expression remained unchanged, probably as it was all expected…

“Or I wouldn’t have risked the lot of you.”

Trying to dangle a carrot even at this point?

Kusla blatantly shot Alzen a suspicious look. If Alzen had any intention of bluffing them, he would slice the latter’s throat before the latter could call for others.

This was the only way to solve this crisis.

“Do you really think…there is room for failure?”

Faced with Kusla’s question, Alzen merely sneered.

“Really? If you fail to make the bell, you can just say so. Just say that others were jealous of your success and pull tricks to ruin you.”

Alzen spoke in a matter of fact, not giving Kusla any room to breathe.

“The success of the dragon production is there, and there is a high likelihood of your explanation being accepted. I thought you would have done so already.”

But they never did.

The reason was that they did not want to take the risk.

“The situation is always changing. Even if you are regretting why didn’t you do that, it’s pointless now.”

Alzen never looked towards Kusla, his tone never reproaching, yet it left Kusla unbearable.

They were the ones who made such a decision out of cowardice. If they had ignored everything and thought things through from an alchemist’s viewpoint, would they not have a different conclusion instead?

With something to protect, one’s thoughts would dull, and what they see would be exaggerated dangers beyond what they really were.

Those that kept seeking safety would ultimately be at risk of being unwanted.

Kusla felt that the beliefs that protected him till this point were shaken.

“The problem is now.”

Yes. Now.

If they believed Alzen and were brought to the bellmaking place, everything left would be a gamble. If they succeeded, they would be off the chopping block.

There was nowhere to run.

Kusla was not so foolish as to leave everything to chance.

In this situation, if it had been himself before he met Fenesis, what would he have done?

Kusla stared at Alzen, and slowly lowered his center of gravity.

Alzen surely ignored his little actions, thinking that he dared not to attack.

If he wanted to run, this would be the time.

If they wanted to survive, they would have to escape while the city was in chaos.

“There are three choices.”

Alzen spoke calmly,

“一To produce it as usual. Whether you succeed or not, God knows.”

Naturally, Kusla could not choose this option.

It was possible if they were mass producing at once however.

But laying out bell molds at the place would be admitting to his uneasiness.

How would the mercenaries react? Kusla could not predict.

“And the other two?”

Weyland asked.

Alzen turned around, saying,

“I heard there are certain forbidden methods to create a bell.”

“!”

Live sacrifices.

Without thinking, Kusla replied,

“Live sacrifices are useless.”

Faced with that retort, Alzen coldly commented,

“Is that so?”

What do you know?

Kusla was about to speak up, but Alzen did so first.

“At the very least, there are a few myths about live sacrifices the mercenaries are discussing.”

“That…”

“Such is a live sacrifice, the purpose being the adorable, pitiful appearance of that young lady.”

Alzen looked right over at Fenesis.

Kusla took a step forward, shielding her.

“She should be a decent choice…would garner quite an effect, I would say.”

The innocent, pretty girl was also an actual Maiden who triggered the miracle.

There was no one else more worthy to be a live sacrifice.

But it had nothing to do with whether the bell was made successfully.

“Hm. So, this should be enough.”

“I can’t understand the purpose of doing this.”

Hearing Kusla hiss back, Alzen lifted his head, saying,

“If we throw the young lady into the furnace, we can easily convince those mercenaries. I can control those beasts, surely.”

So, die.

It was said that those who led through battles had situations when they had to say such lines.

“Once we throw the young lady into the furnace, we can easily raise the soldiers’ morale. This is a matter of experience. Don’t forget, live sacrifices gave rise to many superstitions. How powerful they are is not for me to elaborate.”

There was a logic as to why stories of live sacrifices spread till this day.

Kusla looked towards Fenesis.

The girl with the cursed bloodline lowered her head, hiding her expression beneath her hood.

“Just finish the miracle. Do alchemists not do that to begin with?.”

Do they not hurt or abuse others for their own objectives.

Despite that, Kusla wanted to dispute, knowing it was an undeniable fact.

“And so, the third option.”

Alzen said, looking right over at them.

“Run.”

Kusla doubted his ears.

“Wh…at?”

“I said, run.”

Alzen repeated himself, his cheek muscles twitching, as though gritting his teeth.

But why was he putting up a facade?

What was the expression he wanted to disguise?

“You don’t believe me?”

Of course. Kusla had intended to stab Alzen just so that they could escape.

“I don’t believe it either.”

At that moment, Kusla realized something. Alzen was holding back a smile.

It was likely——

“As a commander, this is really unbecoming…but I am a person. I’m scared, that if I make this decision, I’ll be a different person. I can’t defend myself for making such decisions. Despite that, I can’t make the call.”

Alzen let out a heavy sigh…

“I can’t keep this cold facade. You have provided a miracle to me…no, the Archduke and the our forces. To be honest, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t shaken about the prospect of sacrificing you to bring our forces another miracle.”

Alzen gritted his teeth, holding back his mouth, probably reproaching himself for this dilemma.

“It was truly a miracle. I was laughing like a child.”

Alzen finally could not hold it in as he chuckled. It was so powerful, so gaudy, yet so sincere.

“If I were to throw you into the furnace or send you to the gallows, I can’t recognize that miracle. Such an experience would be a trial, akin to iron turning into steel, but…”

Upon making eye contact with Alzen, Kusla backed down.

“If I were living in a parched world, I don’t necessarily have to give up on the water, right?”

Kusla did not know whether to interpret the words as weakness, or a human touch.

For Alzen’s words were too unexpected.

Was he not a commander cold like metal, steady like lead, sturdy like gold, an embodiment of authority?

That should be the fact.

But miracles could prompt people to change.

“The boats can’t evacuate everyone, but there are hiding places. We aren’t so naive to think that we’ll definitely win. I have a few more plans just in case. There are certain people and things that need to be evacuated from Nilberk. Until then, I should be able to disguise the lot of you as part of the boat crew.”

“But what happens after we escape~?”

Weyland asked once again.

There was a reason why his voice had no intent of thanks.

“To be honest, we still have to be protected by the Knights…and we’ll be known as the alchemists at the last moment…even then, we’ll have to give everyone an explanation, no~?”

Those people are spies of the enemy.

Alzen naturally hid away his smile, reverting back to a commander calmly facing reality.

“Yes. Once you escape, you will never become alchemists of the Knights again.”

Of course, it would be the same in the Northern Lands.

“But, having managed the forces for so long, quite a few owed me favors. I can introduce to you a noble of decent standing. Head over for now…and wait for the chance.”

Alzen’s last words seemed a little hesitant.

Is it possible for those who unfortunately steered away to return to the path?

Why did the Bible emphasize greatly on the resurrection?

For once a person has a knee on the ground, he’s unlikely to stand up again.

“I won’t force you now. Make your choice.”

Alzen poked a finger onto the desk.

“Do you choose to be an alchemist, risking everything for your dreams, or do you be like a blacksmith, hoping to live another day?”

Would they rely on the superstitious power of sacrifice, or do they close the workshop down, just thinking of protecting themselves, and keep praying?

Kusla quietly lamented that he should not be brooding over this. He never doubted the reason why he was dubbed the name of ‘interest’. There was still a ray of hope. This once in a million hope.

Kusla again looked towards Fenesis.

How would be sacrifice this adorable girl and gain the hope for his dreams?

Could he do it?

No, if he felt that he could, he would. Such should be what alchemists. If he was still called interest, an alchemist looking at the world with his cold eyes, he would risk everything just to head to Magdala.

“Make your decision before dawn.”

Alzen waved his head, shooing them off.

On the way back, nobody spoke up. It was the same when they returned to the workshop.

Nobody looked at each other, for they all knew that once their eyes met, they would have to discuss this matter.

It was not easy talking about this matter at all.

Kusla could not believe that he himself was unwilling to break this awkwardness. He could not understand how he ended up being so incompetent. This was supposedly an issue they could discuss using all the time they had left.

Who, other than fools, would waste time when time was of the essence here?

But Kusla just could not move. He was supposed to be the ‘interest’ hurrying towards the land of Magdala day and night.

“But you made up your mind already, right?”

Sparking things off was a somewhat sleepy Irine. Preparations of the dragons’ mass production was done, and all that was left was the assembly. It was at this crucial moment that Weyland roped her back.

Perhaps Irine said so just to change the mood of the situation.

She wanted to tell Kusla that there was nothing to worry about.

“Well Kusla, you can’t possibly be taking little Ul out as firewood~.”

Weyland too spoke up. He was kneeling before the furnace, sorting the coal.

Kusla then opened his mouth, but was unable to say anything.

An alchemist somehow ended up in such a state, and most tragically, he somehow ended up being most concerned of Fenesis’ eyes.

He was in complete shambles. What was the callous alchemist worried about?

The supposedly callous alchemist had a white young lady next to him.

Was it what he wanted? In that case, why the confusion?

The reason being that he might leave behind the land of his own Magdala, as depicted in Korad’s words, forever.

If he wanted to pursue this dream, he would have to sacrifice her.

Kusla did not know why he was so bothered, or even what he was bothered about.

Because he would never choose to abandon Fenesis.

“…What do you think?”

Kusla eked out a voice.

“My choice will be the final say, but this has something to do with you, right?”

Kusla too knew that he was pushing the load he could not bear to others.

Irine was the first to speak.

“I’m definitely help Ul. If we can continue to do smelting, I’m fine going to the South.”

Then, Weyland.

Kusla looked towards Weyland, perhaps hoping that the latter would nudge him forward.

“Well…I guess~.”

Weyland looked back, smiling at Fenesis.

“While little Ul is adorable, I will choose what Alzen said, and throw her into the furnace~.”

“Wha. H-hey, you serious?”

Irine glared at Weyland, but the latter chuckled, not paying her any mind.

He was probably serious.

After dumping the waste at his feet into the furnace, he stood up.

“Well, I’m a cruel alchemist, just an acquaintance with little Ul. It’s a real pity…but I weighed her up against my own dreams. I don’t want to keep Kusla’s weakness company~.”

Kusla felt his heart jolt, aching so badly.

These were alchemists——

“Kusla, you’re not going to do this for real, right?”

Kusla could not move.

As though he was hit with a cursed arrow to turn everything to stone.

“If Kusla uses his smarts, wiles and cold-blooded mind of an alchemist, to think inhumanly like ‘interest’, he should be able to understand that I’ll make this decision. Then, his choice will be to go next to little Ul, draw his blade at me. Then,”

Weyland smiled.

“He’ll kill me~.”

“Y-You’re joking, right?”

Irine’s lips showed a timid smile as she said,

Kusla was a little far away from Weyland, while Fenesis, right next to Irine, was about the same. It was not a joke. They should not be hoping that Weyland would give up his own dreams for Fenesis’ sake.

In any case, he too was an alchemist.

An alchemist aiming for the land of Magdala, using all the tools at his disposal. The term conscience was reduced to ash by them already.

“You’re not going to do anything even after all that? If I take little Ul as a hostage, what will you do? But if you protect her, can you defend against my dagger~.”

It might have been a joke.

If he was serious, he would have done so. However, Weyland did not sound like he was joking. The best Kusla could do would be to kill Weyland before the latter took Fenesis as a hostage.

Move!

Kusla yelled in his heart.

But at this moment, he clearly could not.

“In other words,”

Weyland looked towards Kusla, shrugging.

“You’re not an alchemist, Kusla~.”

Kusla was not so calm to remain unfazed when told off like this.

His legs moved.

Weyland remained still.

“This is just a little argument after all~.”

“!”

“It’s unlike an alchemist to try and attack me after a taunt, not because of his own dreams~?”

Weyland was right.

Kusla did not know what he wanted to do. He was just a howling dog.

“Is there an answer now~?”

Weyland teasingly poked Kusla’s foot with his toes.

“You became an alchemist because you wanted to go to the Land of Magdala, Kusla. No, all alchemists become alchemists for this reason.”

“What…isn’t that nonsense?”

Weyland grimaced.

“But on the other hand, there’s no saying that if you become an alchemist, you have to go to Magdala. Most importantly,”

Kusla opened his eyes wide, and held his breath.

Kusla was terrified. He forced his stiff legs to move forward, wanting to cover Weyland’s mouth.

“You——”

At this moment, Weyland suddenly vanished.

Then, Kusla felt his vision falter, a thud echoing loudly in his mind.

Only then did he react. Weyland suddenly stormed in, landing a fist right at his chin, knocking him down.

Right when Kusla was about to pass out, he saw Weyland, looking down at him, while in a daze.

“found something worth protecting.”

His consciousness faded into darkness.

The moment he closed his eyes, he scented upon a faint sweet smell.

Kusla knew that he was dreaming.

For the scene before him was exactly the same as countless before.

He was standing still in the village he was born in, the surroundings burned to wasteland.

Thus it was a dream, certain scenes did happen in reality.

The tattered village had just been trampled upon by bandits, reduced to ash amidst the flames.

Typically, this dream would last until Kusla found his childhood friend amidst the rubble.

This was the part limited only to the dream, different from reality. She was in fact taken as target practice, killed by arrows. Kusla however hoped that she had burned to death instead.

However, he could not hear his childhood friend calling his name amidst the ruins.

He could only hear the galloping of the horses他, along with the heavy thuds of the armor. Those were the Knights, passing by once in a while, checking if the smoke was not simply borne out of mountain fire.

Once they saw the situation of the village and Kusla, they understood. In this state of the world, such situations were common. However, this was the first time it happened in Kusla’s life. He thought it was everything to the world.

Thus, the orphans who survived this tattered village could only rely on the Knights who were planning to turn around and head back.

He said, I wanted power.

Kusla recalled. He never was an alchemist right from the beginning. Back then, he bitterly wondered how he was going to get power, and the final conclusion he got was to obtain the sword of Orichalcum, and metallurgy was the mean to obtain Orichalcum.

If this power he yearned for was no more than a mean, the answered was obvious right from the beginning.

This was probably the reason.

In his dream, Kusla was facing the Knights who were leaving from him, and he was screaming, watching them leave, unable to move. He knew if he did not give chase, he would not be adopted by the Knights, and he would lose the chance to become an alchemist.

Because.

Because, he——

“…Finally woke up?”

Fenesis asked, looking at Kusla who had opened his eyes.

Kusla had a few experiences of passing out, and no matter the result thereafter, he was never too shocked.

Fenesis put his head on her lap, taking care of him.

The room was quiet, the soft candlelight being the only thing casting away the darkness. It was probably the bedroom.

“…What about that bastard and Irine?”

Kusla asked, and Fenesis smiled with some awkwardness.

“They are both at the workshop.”

“…”

Kusla sighed, and relaxed.

He too was as calm as this room.

“Are you fine?”

Kusla listlessly stared towards a certain corner of the room, ignoring Fenesis’ question.

But, he did not remain silent.

“I had a dream.”

“Hm?”

Saying that, he closed his eyes.

“I dreamt of my past. I grew up in a torn village, and would probably have grown up to become a shepherd. As for what I looked forward to, probably the annual festival, eating lamb, drinking goat milk wine, getting drunk into the night. This was the life I wanted to live, but some incident happened. I dreamt of the incident that changed my life completely.”

Kusla let out a heavy sigh, either sighing out the gloom from getting beaten by Weyland, or his own frustration.

After that, he stopped talking.

Neither did Fenesis.

She stared at Kusla unflinchingly.

“I do not want to stand on a path of separation again.”

“?”

Kusla opened his eyes, and found Fenesis staring blankly at him.

He showed a sarcastic grin.

“Then go back there.”

“…Back?”

“I left the village, aiming to become an alchemist. Right now, I’m wondering if I should give up on being an alchemist.”

He said it. So that is it, he thought.

But the lap pillow was a soft yet sturdy existence…

And his feelings, resting upon it, felt so distinct, undeniable.

“For some reason…I feel defeated.”

Kusla said.

Fenesis stared at Kusla silently.

Then, she showed a faint smile, probably out of the innate kindness she was born with.

“Because you are a serious person.”

Kusla stared at Fenesis’ eyes, and the latter never looked aside, even smiling,

“Ever since we met...”

“…”

Kusla knew what she was talking about. Back then, he was disgusted at himself for thinking only about alchemy, even when his lover was killed. He remained unmoved, and even if he did obtain a sword of Orichalcum that could protect those important to him, what was the point?

Was it not silly of him to devote his passion upon something meaningless?

It was Fenesis who guided him while he was circling the same spot.

You are not so cold-blooded to forget about metallurgy even when your lover was killed. You just wanted to work hard, obtaining the sword of Orichalcum, hoping to prevent another tragedy.

“And also,”

Fenesis said, and went quiet.

Kusla looked up at her, seeing her purse her lips, averting her eyes as though she was enduring something.

Is she feeling awkward? Once he realized this, she was looking back at Kusla again.

Looking infuriated, she stammered,

“So-so am I——”

But she was never able to continue.

Kusla looked at Fenesis stoically, his hand gently stroking her slender bum.

“H-hyah!?!”

She tried to stand up immediately, but as Kusla was lying in her lap, she could not run away.

She swung a slap into his face.

Pak. That was loud and clear.

“Wh-what are you doing…”

“So, what did Weyland tell you?”

Hearing that, Fenesis muttered, looking aside.

“…I-Irine too…”

“Those two…”

Kusla cursed, and closed his eyes lethargically. Again those two teamed up to do something unnecessary. They were probably amused, and thinking that it did not involve them, and thus why they did so.

Upon this thought, Kusla had another idea.

Irine earnestly helped him in Kazan.

And he knew Weyland was not a bad person. If he was, he would have tied Fenesis up and sent her to Alzen. Weyland too could be considered implicated. Could he have his own intentions, believing he could rise up again?

Kusla could not understand.

But there was one thing certain, that Fenesis could still remain by his side safely.

Kusla once again sighed defeatedly.

Seeing that Kusla was not saying anything, Fenesis stammered,

“Y-You, a-about, me…”

Seeing Fenesis being so nervous, even Kusla wondered if her heart would pop out from her mouth.

“Ab-about me…”

“Yes.”

Kusla never let her finish, and his answer remained vague,

No way I can say that, so he thought

He was an alchemist who could quiet crying children.

“…Stubborn.”

Fenesis pouted unhappily.

You’re the one person I don’t want to hear that from, so Kusla thought, but he never refuted.

For it was fact.

Fenesis lowered her head, and said, as though she was forced to say so,

“Yo-you became an alchemist because of your dreams…then, as an alchemist, you should pursue your own dreams. I-I think I said something strange…”

She was right, so he never responded.

He could imagine Weyland and Irine excitedly teaching various strange things to the girl.

Surely he was infuriated because they were right on point.

Kusla peeked a little at Fenesis.

Fenesis reeled her neck back, looking to be on the verge of tears.

Without her blushing, the expression she showed would be of one about to be killed.

But Kusla knew.

Embarrassment would not doom a person to death.

“I-I do feel that I am unsuited to be an uppity alchemist…”

“Uppity?”

“Fue?!”

Hearing the response, she let out a weird squeal, as though she was doing her best to withhold her laugh.

“Weyland said that too?”

“…M-Miss Irine did…no-not really, erm,”

“Got it. I see. So that’s it.”

Kusla tried to pass it off.

The answer was clear, the resolution obvious.

But he just could not rationalize it. If everything could be explained through logic, he would not be an alchemist. If everything could be explained through logic, he would have obtained a proper job the moment he became an alchemist, and lived a boring, stable life. Despite that, he would probably be involved in the same crisis now, worried about his own livelihood.

But the truth differed.

In this sense, I’m really the same as before, so Kusla thought.

Kusla stared at Fenesis, who remained speechless after being interrrupted, and he frowned.

Such a cute girl really was unsuited to be an uppity alchemist.

Speaking of which.

Was he supposed to head to Magdala because he was an alchemist? Or did he become an alchemist because he wanted to head to Magdala?

Kusla averted his eyes slightly, before looking back at her.

“You’ve grown a little.”

Hmph. So she took a deep breathing, pouting, her ears drooping as a result. It certainly was an interesting sight.

However, this rage seemed to have become her motivation moving forward.

“N-not that I have grown. I am not a child anymore…”

Kusla gave a half smile that was basically asking, why?

He said,

“Then, what——”

He stopped.

He widened his eyes, and saw the ceiling.

The white hair fell upon his face.

The hands holding down his head were tense, covered in cold sweat.

And thus, the warmth of that tenderness seemed different from before.

It felt like cheese heated over fire.

“…I am not a child.”

Fenesis straightened herself, and put Kusla’s head back on her knees.

“I am an…alchemist, chasing after my own dreams.”

Kusla lifted his eyes, and stared listlessly at Fenesis for a moment…

Fenesis did her best to stare back, using her initial momentum. After a while however, she was deflated, and looked away timidly like before.

But it was a fact it happened. The actions did happen.

A sword contained both soft and hard metals, and thus, had both the malleability to remain intact, and the sturdiness to remain rigid.

And the sword-like Fenesis caused a slit in Kusla’s heart, but what flowed out instead was not blood.

“If you are an alchemist, what am I??”

Fenesis said in a huff,

“A hopeless——hya?!”

Kusla reached his hand for her bum to shut her up, and got slapped again.

But this time, he grabbed that hand, not letting go.

“Those two taught you things again?”

Fenesis tried to wave off his hand, but stopped upon hearing his words.

“Th-they often say that…?”

“No.”

Hearing that, she gasped, and stared at Kusla intently, saying,

“Not them.”

“What are you trying to say?”

Kusla naturally would not throw Fenesis into the furnace.

And thus, even if Kusla managed to escape South and continue to be an alchemist, he would not be a real one.

Thus was what Fenesis meant when she called herself an alchemist.

With a stoic look, she looked down upon Kusla.

“If you do reach the Land of Magdala, will you give up on being an alchemist?”

There was originally no purpose to this question.

But after some visualization, for some reason, Kusla answered without hesitation,

“No.”

“So, this is what I want to say.”

Fenesis took a deep breath, and straightened her back.

“You may have become an alchemist because of your serious personality, but I have to say something.”

A tender, smiling face.

“I like alchemy, just like you. I joined you, because you seemed to enjoy doing it.”

Welcome to the world of alchemists——

Fenesis was once mesmerized by the refining work of zinc.

And if Kusla and Weyland were fascinated by their own work, what would be her choice?

“…What do you want me to do?”

Kusla held Fenesis’ hand firmly. By hypothesis, he could predict what she was going to say.

“I received a promise from you, right?”

Don’t sacrifice yourself for the bellmaking.

Fenesis looked down at Kusla, smiling forlornly.

“That was a lie.”

Fenesis put her other hand on Kusla’s.

“I shall die before everyone, and everyone can remain in the North. This is my…Magdala.”

The girl bearing the cursed bloodline said bashfully.

The Knights spent an entire night hastily building a massive furnace.

They stacked the bricks, filled the gaps with lime, and dug a large hole in the ground to store the metals.

The furnace resembled a giant bathtub capable of accommodating a giant five times the size of a human.

Such a large furnace was required to make the bell.

Also, there was a platform above the furnace. It was modified from a gallow, a staple for any city.

Despite that, the purpose of the gallows remained unchanged.

Also, there was a trapdoor, which makes it convenient. There was ample height for one to endure the rising heat, even when standing above the furnace..

The people gathered at the plaza could probably see the people standing on the platform.

“Some have insisted that God has abandoned us!”

The booming voice echoed at the plaza.

The modified gallows shook a little, creaking.

Archduke Kratal was lashing out furiously on the platform.

“But that is not the case! The Lord cannot possibly abandon us Knights. We have fallen into the vicious trap of the Pagans, in this cursed Land. Fortunately, the Lord has granted us a hand!”

Nobody spoke. Instead, at the plaza, there was a silence hotter than the furnace.

“We shall bury the Pagans with the hammer of Truth. Our Mission shall be to reclaim the peace and faith on this Land!”

However, the soldiers lacked the bell signifying this faith.

While everyone looked towards the bell tower, Archduke Kratal said once again,

“We are in the midst of darkness. Surely there are many feeling lost, wondering where we should go. But the Lord is with us, and has revealed to us the path. We cannot see Him, but we can see his messenger. The angel of redemption has descended upon this city!”

The plaza erupted into thunderous applause.

The mercenaries raised their weapons, yelling.

A petite body appeared on the gallows, dressed in the white clergy robes, her hands tied before her, bronze shackles bound to her feet. It was all to ensure that she sank into the Hellish boiling metal beneath her.

Clearly she was not a Maiden to be worshipped, nor capable of a miracle.

She was simply a pitiful doll to be thrown into the furnace, for people harbored unrealistic hopes for her.

Thus, Kusla understood. The Ancients might not have been hunted down because of their prior invasions. He recalled the mural on Kazan, that there were ordinary people beside those fighting deformed and the enemies summoning dragons.

In another way, one could interpret it as the Ancients fighting for those oppressed. After the battles, they lived in the city for a while. At the very least, there was no way to conclude for sure that the Ancients were vicious invaders.

Despite that, they were deemed as cursed existences. Even when they offered aid to others, creating miracles, on a certain day, they were still unfairly treated.

After witnessing a miracle, people would want a second one, and after a second one, would demand for a third.

On a certain day, once the Ancients were unable to reciprocate the expectations, people started becoming deluded.

Are they unwilling to share these miracles with us?

No, maybe the miracles are a lie after all?

The higher they are, the harder the fall.

And the Ancients, aliens to the land, finally vanished into the annals of history.

This too might have happened.

These were merely hypothesis, but Kusla had enough reason to believe.

The scene before him was enough proof.

Even the mercenary who offered the wildflower had no objections to this sacrificial ritual.

“All have heard that this Maiden, Ul Fenesis, has brought forth many miracles! Her appearance in this city is God’s plan!”

The Church priests left Fenesis from the sides.

And she, who had her head lowered the entire time, lifted it.

She appeared to have given up, or was attempting to protect something.

Kusla felt that she was a lot thinner in a single night, as though something important was robbed off her.

“We shall use the flames lit by the Maiden, and with the miracle, we shall create the bell, declaring to the world of our Justice!”

There was rapturous applause.

“Let the enemy hear our voices, and let them now we are never going to retreated on this accursed land! We are the fighting believers! Brothers! You are no pitiful sheep shivering in your homes, but shepherds protecting your sheep from the vicious wolves! Come, raise your weapons! Stand and raise your voices!!!”

Archduke Kratal raised his arms, yelling. The platform shook.

The spectators beneath responded to his call, rallied to utmost euphoria.

The red bearded archduke’s hands stopped above his head, clenched.

“Glory to God!!”

The trapdoor opened in response to his call, and the pitiful girl was devoured within.

Falling were the white robe, along with the whiter hair resembling an angel’s wings. Everything happened in an instant. It was not a divine miracle people imagined it to be.

It was a simple fall, instant and definite.

Following that, along with a blunt thud, the robes were scorched in the high heat of the boiling metal. The rising steam set the robes aflame, and the remaining white hair rose, fluttering in the air for a moment, before being ignited as well. If there was a poet around, surely he would write, such resembles life.

But no poet was present.

Present were the armies outside the city, and the warriors ready to defeat them.

“Look! The Maiden has abandoned her body of flesh. Her Soul has been summoned by the Lord!”

Archduke Kratal then yelled,

“Brothers! Will you remain timid seeing the Maiden’s courage!?”

Once done, the Archduke stomped hard again, and the gallows shook.

“The enemy has come! This is the chance to display your courage to the Maiden!”

A moment later,

Beast-like bellows filled the plaza.

“The bell is not to encourage you! You have lots of it! The bell is made to celebrate your triumphant return!”

The warriors swung their weapons wildly, hollering. The carriages ferrying the dragons raced towards the plaza. All the workshops had been mobilized for the assembly work, so that it could be done in time.

On the call of the horse-riding commanders, the soldiers strode down the main streets leading out, swarming out in droves.

The enemy would probably be terrified.

The soldiers were all riled up.

They had forgotten something important.

They forgot that a catapult’s purpose was to destroy the walls and cause casualties within the city walls.

The catapult could no longer fend against the fearlessly advancing soldiers, along with the fire breathing dragons.

“Open the gates!”

Someone yelled, and following that, deafening roars and footsteps. The battle had begun.

The crowded plaza from before had disappeared, and left were the workers working on the furnace.

Archduke Kratal stood on the fallows, his arms folded as he looked afar.

“Are you satisfied now, alchemists?”

The two priests by the side shriveled upon hearing that..

They brought a girl to the gallows, all so to ensure their survival.

“Hm. I have a distaste for the gallows. Swords are better than ropes.”

Saying that, the Archduke descended the massive, delicate stairs. The two priests hastily followed suit.

Following that, a man stepped onto the empty gallows stairs.

He had long hair, along with an untrimmed beard.

Weyland stepped onto the gallows, gleefully looking towards the city, and then beneath his feet..

“Isn’t it hot~?.”

Kusla answered,

“Move already. It’s hot.”

There was a hidden panel beneath the trapdoor.

Hidden there were the sweaty Kusla,

“Even without my hair, it does feel really hot…”

And Fenesis.

Epilogue

——“I shall die before everyone, and everyone can remain in the North. This is my…Magdala.”

Saying that, Fenesis proposed a plan that might bluff children.

Why not make a doll and have it drop

Such a crude plan was unexpectedly convincing.

“People focus only on appearances, not the true nature.

Kusla sensed that Fenesis was reproaching, and felt peeved. However, she was right. Ever since they escaped Kazan, nobody feared her abnormal appearance…

And after the miracle in Nilberk, nobody concerned themselves about who she really was.

Thus, as expected, nobody at the plaza opposed Archduke Kratal’s words, that the bell was not to encourage them. They did not necessarily require the bell for the soldiers to head onto the battlefield.

They just wanted a reason for themselves to fight, to even sacrifice themselves.

With a faint smile, Fenesis explained to Kusla the logic, using a cruel past as example.

“Those that wanted to kill me and my kin did so not because they hated us. It is because we are different, that if we are not killed, the order will be messed.”

People never cared about the inside, just the appearance.

Most probably found them pitiful.

But Fenesis never gave up.

Kusla snorted, but in the end, he never said anything.

“Besides, you will find it boring not being an alchemist.”

Fenesis slyly made her words as ambiguous as possible.

A shrewd alchemist

Kusla thought unhappily.

Just a snotty young lady!

But if Kusla wanted to remain on these lands, he would have to drop Fenesis into the furnace. At the very least, they had to convince the people that was the case.

After hearing the plan from Kusla’s gang, Alzen was stunned, only to say with amazement,

“Guess it is true that the simpler the plan, the more effective it is...”

And nobody would think this was all an act.

Nobody would doubt.

Nobody would expected a secret panel beneath the trapdoor to catch her, and drop a doll in.

“Luckily, she has a distinct characteristic.”

Saying that, Alzen reached out to grab Fenesis’ hair.

Kusla frowned, not because somebody else touched Fenesis’ hair, but because she had to cut her long hair, and disguise it as part of the doll.

“Shall we leave a bit”

Irine took the hair that was cut from Fenesis, asking.

For some reason, Fenesis was bashful, and lowered her head.

Kusla seized the opportunity to rag upon her.

“Isn’t this an ingredient to be used for alchemy”

So use it, he implied. Hair could be grown back after all

Kusla felt that it was fine as long as she remained. He thought of her prior look with her long hair. Once the hair was cut, the silky nape was exposed. Not a bad thing.

Once the hair was cut, the gang was summoned to Alzen. Dawn began to beckon.

“As long as the soldiers’ morale remain uplifted, the war will be won. What happens after She can’t be moving around freely then.”

In any case, Fenesis was seen falling into the furnace. There was no way they could let her wander.

“Then let us go seek Korad’s footsteps.”

“…That map No, is that about the dragon In that case…”

Responding to Alzen’s comments, Kusla earnestly answered.

Alzen’s beard twitched. It seemed the poised commander would only show his true self before Kusla’s gang.

“Hmph. Just be careful.”

“That’s it”

Alzen sighed, seemingly unable to vent his rage.

“I will assign some trustworthy spies to you. You should be fine disguised as wandering blacksmiths. Let’s split up. Having her stay around is like a curse to the forces.”

Curse, the term caused Kusla to gasp. Fenesis held his hand gently in response.

At that moment, Kusla thought of something.

Fenesis was neither an adult nor a child. She probably could not be fully called an alchemist, but there was one thing certain.

She was a female.

“The technology left behind by the Ancients…”

Alzen muttered, and continued,

“It will probably change the world if used for war.”

Such a practical fellow, so Kusla grimaced.

Then, Alzen quietly added,

“And there might be something really worth looking forward to.”

Kusla buried the strange delight in his heart, trying to act stoic.

Alzen might not have noticed, as he continued,

“You alchemists are always like this.”

“What”

Alzen scanned across, seeing Weyland who was eager to follow Korad’s footsteps. Irine who was worried about the dragon production, Kusla who was scowling as though he had just woken up, and a smiling Fenesis holding his hand. Alzen said,

“Freedom. Even lead can become gold.”

Kusla tilted his head, as though he had a stiff neck. He smirked.

“Because we’re alchemists.”

Alzen gave a wry smile, and waved his hand, shooing them off.

They got everything they needed, and just had to proceed with the preparations

They just needed to stay low and wait. Life is full of such repetitions.

“Anyway, how long are you going to keep holding”

They left the Knights headquarters. Cold air struck, and Kusla asked while shivering,

Fenesis looked up at Kusla, undaunted, and narrowed her eyes teasingly, smiling as she said,

“I am grabbing onto my own dreams. Do you not know”

Weyland and Irine could not withhold their giggles, and the white breath flashed by in the air.

Kusla let out a heavy white sigh, as though spitting out a spitting image of Fenesis himself.

“I see.”

He tersely responded, and strode forth. Fenesis was dragged along, and hurriedly teetered along.

Kusla was still holding her hand.

“So don’t let go.”

Fenesis silently looked up at Kusla, and a tad later, realized she had fallen behind.

She immediately gave chase, a smile on her face.

“Yes!”

He could remain an alchemist, seeking Magdala in the North, and Fenesis was with him.

Kusla would not have all these if he had remained as he was, lonely, roguish, cynical.

But at this point, he understood. The image of an alchemist he had was simply an armor for himself.

This was the true nature of an alchemist.

“Wh-what is it”

A skeptical Fenesis asked, and Kusla merely snorted.

Though still fuming, Fenesis never let go of the hand.

Even in the dawning night, the city remained lively, bustling.

The Church tower had no bell, but the morning sun signaling the end of the dark, long winter night was about to rise from the other side of the wall.

Afterword

It’s been a while. Isuna Hasekura here. Another five months passed. I do apologize for making everyone wait. I wanted to try writing three books a year, but a long time passed before I realized. It is troublesome. I guess it’s probably down to me dabbling in online games. Gaming’s really a hindrance. I tried uninstalling a few times, but every time, I ended up installing again a few days later. Really shows how weak my determination in.

And during this time, I had a huge sneeze, causing myself to strain my back. It’s the fourth time. When I lie on the bed, I think that when I get up, I’ll have to start exercising again, and get back to living a healthy life…once recovered, as expected, I didn’t continue with what I planned. Guhhh.

Let’s hope I can work hard, exercise, and clean up my room.

Now then, let’s talk about this volume. After submitting the manuscript, I met the editor-in-charge A-sama, who summarized the volume by saying “This Kusla…” . I guess the readers who’ve read this volume should feel the same. I wonder if everyone who read it can guess from the publication issues. Just to note, as an author, what I’ll say is, how did it end up like this!? Of course, it’s not that I wrote it badly, just that Kusla’s shadier than I thought, smarter and shrewder…how his character will change as the story develops, I’ll have to write to know. It’s really intriguing. Fenesis too has grown quite a bit, no longer that fluffy, cute little heroine unknowingly.

To note, this volume contains no special fantasy element. I can’t say there’s none at all, but I didn’t intentionally write it in…the ‘ice miracle’ Kusla showed in this volume really exists. Strange, isn’t it? This experiment can be done at home using cola. But don’t do it with a glass bottle! Or the freezer will be a mess.

Speaking of which, the story of this volume can be said to be a turning point. I’m probably done with half of the plot. Like the last series, I thought of the ending, so I want to keep writing excitedly. But the more I write, I end up thinking, each volume seems rather plain…should I add some plot, some intense fighting scenes? Of course, this is a joke.

The next volume shall be delivered at about the same pace. Please look forward to it.

Isuna Hasekura

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