Magdala de Nemure:Volume08

Novel Illustrations

These are the novel illustrations that were included in Magdala de Nemure Volume 8

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Prologue

He sat on the carriage, covered in a few blankets, and yet he was gasping for breath.

In fact, it was tough to sleep, for his nightmares had woken him up several times. Whenever he opened his heavy eyelids, the girl’s worried look would enter his eyes.

Surely those eyes were those of one who feared he would depart for the afterlife at any given moment. It was a rare experience to be given such a look. While he was poisoned to the point of near death, and was completely worn out due to arduous work nights, no person would kick the bucket that easily. No matter how he reemphasized this repeatedly, she would not listen.

In any case, he was unable to pry aside the pile of heavy blankets, and it was thus obvious he was feeling really weak. Perhaps he was woken due to the same nightmare lingering vividly, resulting in him seeking help from reality. The nightmare did not happen however, and luck returned to him.

And thus, he found that once he got used to it, it was not a bad thing to be treated as a patient. He could open his mouth, and all the food and wine would be brought to his mouth. Once he yawned, the bed would be laid for him. When he found it hard to sleep after sleeping for long periods, there would be an outstretched hand to comb his hair.

While he had a fear that if this kept up, he would be domesticated, he consoled himself into thinking it was an assignment of roles.

At this point, he should enjoy her care and let his thoroughly weakened body recuperate, to find his usual form, and the moment he recovered, to protect her.

Not simply because the fingers combing his hair were overly fine.

But that a few days ago, he realized how gaping a hole his heart had when he lost this girl.

The moment he met her eyes, she blinked her green eyes, beaming happily.

He had to protect this smile.

And for this reason, he had to rest.

The carriage continued to shake.

Despite closing his eyes, her beaming face remained vivid.

Act 1

It was a wooden hut built on a cliff, as a shelter against the snow, and one would describe it as closer to a cave. For most of the year, this place was enclosed in ice and snow, and huts like this were scattered along the paths. It was said travelers would use them as shelter. Initially, it was intriguing how the huts could remain as they were despite there being no caretakers, but as one moved through the snowstorm with no silhouette to be seen, and finally arriving at such huts, one could imagine why they remained sturdy.

These huts lasted so long due to the thankful people who managed to survive by the skin of their teeth.

Even him, not one to be sentimental, was impressed. Surely it was more so for the ordinary fellows, so he thought as he slid his hand down the wooden walls. They contained the crammed words of those who experienced the fear of death, words like thank goodness for this miracle, thank you. Some travelers so happened to encounter each other, penning the joy they experienced as poems.

He could see faces beyond these words, it seemed, but there was another reason why he was not mesmerized with them.

“Interesting, no?”

Someone suddenly asked while he was peering at the firm handwriting. As expected, the owner of these words had sought refuge during a snowstorm, boiled some soup at the furnace in the middle of the hut, and warmed himself up. Then, a hare scampered in, probably lured by the light or the smell. Typically, he would have it roasted, but instead, on that night, he fed it dried roots and vegetables, and slept with it.

So he imagined that scene as he turned his eyes to the owner.

There was Fenesis, a girl who should be considered a white kitten more so than a hare.

“The wine is heated.”

She had somewhat resembled a little animal, and yet she was wearing a warm looking fur coat, along with a fur cap to conceal the forgettable beast ears, holding a wooden cup with rising white smoke. It was a beverage brewed with distilled malt, mixed with lots of butter. It fills the stomach, and the body would warm.

“Is wine and jerky enough? I do think gruel is better for the body…”

“No. I said that I have already recovered.”

No matter how unwilling he was, even he would be refreshed after sleeping on a carriage for three days. While Fenesis looked worried, and seemed to have some regret over this, perhaps it was Kusla himself who was thinking too much in it.

“So you asked if this is interesting?”

Kusla received the cup, took a sip, and said,

“At the very least, it’s interesting for me to believe in the kindness in this world. Very interesting.”

Her face showed a skeptical look, and once she noticed how the words were as peaceful as a shepherd’s hymn, she showed a wry smile at Kusla’s explanation.

“However, it’s not just interesting.”

This little sip of wine could warm the body to its core. Fenesis huffed into the cup, and started sniveling, for it seemed the cold had melted away.

“Roads are those left behind all this while, unchanged over the hundreds of years. It seemed the people headed from South to North would have passed this place.”

The piping hot steam had Fenesis sniveling as though she had bawled. She seemed to have realized what he meant, for she hurriedly wiped her face with her sleeve, staring at the message written on the wall.

“The Whites definitely have passed this road. They might have left a message here.”

They were the wanderers with extraordinary technology who arrived at these lands a hundred years ago. They were dubbed the Whites due to their appearances, sometimes dubbed angels for they were assumed to have descended from the Heavens. Kusla and the others arrived at this place, for they wanted to solve the legends left behind.

Such legends included them leading hordes of flaming dragons, the creation of gold from ash, flowing in the sky, summoning the sun onto the earth. Typically, such legends were merely to be scoffed at, but some of them had been proven. The biggest breakthrough would surely be the summoning of the sun onto the earth.

Just days ago, they stayed in the town of Abbas. They unraveled the meaning to what was a traditional pagan ritual, and discovered the steps to creating the unique material. Naturally, the notion was that they could replicate the phenomena through certain technologies.

The ones unsolved were the legend of man flying in the sky, and surely it was the best representation of a daydream.

However, they were traversing through the snowstorm not simply to solve the legend.

One of the reasons was that they had a doubt, that even after creating the fire herb capable of summoning the sun onto the earth, it should not easily cause the devastation of burning down a town in a single night. Kusla wondered if a different herb was used, or that there was another technology to improve it. By discovering it, even with all the enemies of the world banded together, they could win this battle; conquering the world might not be a mere dream.

The second was to seek the whereabouts of the Whites.

Their technology had arrived at a fantasy a hundred years ago. At this point, perhaps they had elevated it further, and anyone, let alone an alchemist, would be eager to meet them. Over the long history of alchemy, there existed secret arts people knew of, yet never to face directly, ways like turning lead into gold, reviving the dead, regaining youth, to capturing spirits. The Whites themselves might have attained these…or so it seemed. While Kusla did not truly believe so, he wanted to know what they had, and what they had researched into.

However, they knew so little of the angels, for news about the latter vanished after they disappeared from the vanquished lands. To pursue them, they had to head North. Furthermore, they had insufficient time to slowly investigate, and they were already on their way after hasty preparations. It was mere days ago that Kusla and Weyland were betrayed and poisoned, not completely recovered from their half-dead state.

They were in a hurry, for they probably had pursuers. Luckily for them, the pursuers were not doing so out of malice, but if they were caught, they would be in danger. Perhaps these two were interlinked.

The pursuers were their employers, the Claudius Knights. The organization had expanded its authority faster than any nobility, and garnered much malice, resulting in them being attacked.

Given that the Pope, the beacon of their faith, had spoken up, surely it was only a matter of time until a full scale war escalated.

They possessed the powerful technology left behind by the Whites, which would thus be important for their battle. Surely they would be brought to the battlefield, embroiled in war. It was a matter of kill or be killed, and given that the Pope had tossed in his lot, the war would not end that simply.

Thus, this was the only time they could seek the Whites freely.

They never thought about sitting back to observe, and never intended to convince Alzen, who would surely demand for their obedience. They would regret if they did not extend their hand out whenever they could, a feeling Kusla himself had just experienced. Thus, even though they might not like it, they had to head up North.

So Kusla thought as he observed Fenesis, who earnestly sought the messages on the wall, so much so that even her forehead was clinging close to it. She resembled a squirrel seeking food, and his urge to cause mischief on this little animal had him inadvertently grazing his hand on her cheek.

She immediately showed an annoyed look, wanting him to stay out of this. But Kusla showed a self-deprecating smile, for at this moment, he had a hapless notion that he could never look at this fortune he had obtained once again.

At this point, he had no intention to deny this notion.

And instead, he wanted to amply enjoy this.

“It’s pointless to keep looking. There’s no way wood can last for a hundred years in such conditions.”

“Eh?”

Fenesis’ predictions were easily overturned, and she was stumped. Kusla’s smile became a leer. She immediately puffed her cheeks, tapping at him lightly. She resembled a sheep lowering its head angrily and charging over, and also like a kitten wanting to be fawned over.

How foolish, so he thought, but they had no intention of leaving each other. One kept beating, and one continued to be beaten.

Perhaps he, who was a few years older, might seem the more foolish, so he grimaced.

While they were fooling around, a man pried apart the curtain at the entrance, and entered.

The pudgy body was covered in snowflakes, and he really resembled a snowman. It was the book merchant Phil.

“Oh goodness, that really was a snowstorm.”

Phil dusted off the snowflakes which landed on him while he toiled, saying so.

Accompanying Kusla and Fenesis on this journey were the alchemist Weyland, the blacksmith Irine, and the book merchant Phil, someone they met in the town where the hassle occured days ago. Like the others, he too was seeking the angel’s legends. There were also three other Knights escorting them from Abbas.

“Have the escorts found a place to get warmth?”

Kusla asked not out of kindness, but because back in Abbas, they were betrayed by the spies who should be protecting them, and they might be betrayed again. If he was careless against them, they might be betrayed again. They showed the Knights a miracle back in Abbas, and chose some companions they could trust, but their loyalty was to the Claudius Knights, their superior Alzen.

It did not hurt to be a little extra careful.

“Yes. There’s another hut not too far away from here, so I had them stay there. The horses are there too.”

“If they’re bringing the horses in, there’s no place for them to roll about when they sleep.”

The hut was large enough for 4, 5 adults to lie in. Weyland and Irine probably could not resist the warm wine and fire, for they had fallen asleep by the fireside, making it look more cramped. The moment Fenesis noticed them, she hurriedly laid a blanket over them.

“But this treacherous journey shall end tomorrow. We could have arrived today if not for the snowstorm…let us just hold on for a little longer.”

Phil dusted the snow off his body, tossed the firewood into the furnace, and poured some wine to drink. He was as nonchalant as one well acquainted with traveling alone.

Kusla stared at Phil intently not because he was impressed.

“The town that once existed, Abbas?”

“It still does.”

Phil forced a smile, drawing out a sneer from Kusla.

The town where the incident occurred was also called Abbas, but the original town was destroyed in a single night by the sun the Whites summoned. The current Abbas was a town rebuilt by the survivors of that calamity.

“The old has not been completely destroyed.”

Kusla pulled a large blanket from the pile, and draped it over himself, staring at Phil as he asked,

“There are a few staying there because of trade?””

“Yes. There is an unexpected lot of people who don’t want to leave the place.”

Phil said without much intent, but Fenesis, who had laid blankets over Irine and Weyland naturally sat down beside Kusla, and hesitated once she heard that.

Kusla felt that what Phil said made sense, and tucked the shocked Fenesis into his blanket.

“As a book merchant, you must have investigated lots into this. I wonder if you can discover anything else.”

“Ahaha, I have stayed in this town for four years, but I never discovered the fire herb. The mystery can only be solved by those who understand.”

Phil broke into a grin while talking.

“Though you’re a little miffed.”

“Without that foresight, I shouldn’t be involved in this occupation.”

The book merchant burst out laughing, and reached for a blanket.

“I shall focus on leading the way. Sure feels good to be able to lead the path to truth.”

Just as they were unwilling to be content with being famous local blacksmiths, it seemed Phil could not be content with merely counting his coins. What he said was no hyperbole.

He had learned that no matter the truth, he would not be able to obtain without seeing it personally, without touching it personally. It was for such a purpose that Kusla embraced Fenesis, being the most important to him. Irine and Weyland were already asleep, so it seemed she was no longer bashful, fawning as she tucked her head under his arms.

Everything would be awaiting them at the place they were to arrive at.

What exactly will they see?

So he scented upon the hair with the faint fragrance as he fell asleep, undaunted.

The snowstorm outside the curtain fell for an entire night, and the next morning, the skies were clear. Given how fine the weather was, it seemed they could depart on their journey, even if they were headed next to the gallows.

They put out the lights, dusted off the snow from the cloth covering their belongings, and began to move.

Phil had taken the path to old Abbas a few times, and thus they were not lost, nor did they face difficulty moving. At the very most, they had to get off the carriages and move their belongings when encountering any slope. Like the strong knights escorting them, they carried however much they could on their own strength.

Surely they would sweat doing this, and the breath of their frantic breathing was white, but the white smoke exhaled was reminiscent of iron being smelted, their feelings uplifted. The blacksmith Irine was humming away a tune blacksmiths used to time their work.

The journey lasting four days was merely hampered by the snowstorm the previous day, and soon after the sun rose, they arrived at their destination. They went up the gradual slope, and right when the horizon expanded before them, there appeared plains, along with mountains surrounding them.

“Over here?”

“The old Abbas.”

Phil, leading the pack, did not appear tired despite his body type. It was impressive, really. The younger Kusla was showing some fatigue, but he quietly excused himself, thinking that it was not because he was always cooped in the workshop, but that the poison had been holding him back.

“Let us go. The place where the smoke rises is where they gather.”

Apart from some slopes here and there, it was a snowplain of complete white. One would have assumed he was daydreaming if not for the few houses scattered over there.

Above the horizon was the blue sky, and afar was the mountain range, followed by the white plains where distance could not be gauged. It was a refreshing sight to Kusla, who lived many years within the walls.

And it appeared Irine and Weyland felt the same. Irine herself was probably momentarily giddy as she stumbled a little.

“When it’s hard to gauge the distance it’s hard to stand upright~.”

Weyland grumbled as he grabbed Irine’s arm.

“Hahaha. Buildings won’t run away like a mirage. If you don’t feel good, find a target and head towards it.”

Phil, already used to this, continued towards the buildings down the snowy path that was not a road...

“Let’s follow that massive back then~”

Weyland said expectantly, and prompted Irine on. The Knights being their escorts continued leisurely, for they probably were used to fighting on such spacious land.

Fenesis saw them leave, and suddenly grabbed Kusla’s hand.

“I am used to seeing this in the desert. Do follow me.”

You’re being giddy over just a little thing? Kusla quietly thought to himself, but it was rather delightful to see this pipsqueak straighten up. He shrugged, held her hand, and followed after Phil and the others.

Ss, sss, they stepped on the snow as they went forth, and slowly. there were other footsteps. Before they knew it, the snow beneath their feet was a flattened path, and finally felt a sense of reality.

Thus, the gathering appeared a little clearer to them.

“But… it is a little different from what I imagined.”

“Hm?”

“I thought it would be more barren.”

A hundred years ago, the Whites summoned the sun, and a sea of flames devoured the town of Abbas, destroying it in a single night. One would have imagined a hellish scene, but appearing before Kusla’s eyes was a snowy land and a blue sky above, along with some gentle trails of rising smoke.

Furthermore, located near the settlement were a few sleds ferrying goods along, and white breaths rising from human mouths, negotiating away while walking along. It seemed the place was exceptionally frigid, and the riverbank appeared to be on the verge of freezing. There were people working on fur there, dealing with the carcasses of deer, foxes, hares, squirrels, and other animals. The skins and the jerkies were lined neatly, and one could smell from the foul stench that the fat of beasts was being boiled in a massive cauldron.

The work here was relatively modest and routine. It did not resemble its destroyed past, but rather, a village that reinvented itself and continued to exist.

Kusla and the others entered the settlement, but nobody looked towards them with strange eyes, probably because there were already various kinds of people who passed by. There were no walls, just huts, and it was likely that due to the intersection of the paths, they decided it would be the center of their settlement. There were stalls selling snacks, and some shoddy looking currency dealers. The similar looking scene was beyond expectations, and it was hard to believe this place was mere steps from the Far North dubbed the end of the world.

“I guess this is how it feels to visit a graveyard rumored to have lots of ghosts wandering around.”

Phil probably once had the same thoughts as Kusla and the others, for he casually noted after Kusla muttered so,

“More importantly, let’s go greet the locals...”

Since there was a gathering of settlers on this land, surely there was one leading them. Kusla always thought of this place as an empty wasteland, given the news he heard, but he started to worry about any trouble, since there were so many living here...

“The Living’s harder to deal with than the Dead~.”

Weyland agreed with what Kusla said,

“And we’re investigating whatever destroyed this town. We haven’t discussed how we’re going to do this. Now what~?”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

Phil showed his usual tempered smile.

“Really? So you mean there are people like the Poldorofs who want to know what technology the Whites had?”

For generations, the Poldoroffs, rulers of Abbas, had been wondering how to recreate the miracle.

“That can be considered half correct, I feel.”

“What?”

Kusla retorted, and Weyland too sounded stunned.

Phil in turn beamed with a gaudy look.

“It is hard for me to explain with words.”

Phil then walked off, as though indicating it was better for them to greet, than for him to explain here. However, Kusla noticed that inadvertent moment.

When Phil answered, he glanced aside at Fenesis.

One could tell there was probably something too delicate to discuss, but Kusla did not notice anything more. After all, Phil was someone trustworthy. Kusla exchanged looks with Weyland and the others, and decided to follow.

It seemed the people were mostly talking about business at the plaza, and travel necessities like grains and equipment for the cold were laid out on the snow, to be sold. It felt primitive compared to the Southern cities, but it was bustling, and while there were a few settler huts, they were mostly built out of sturdy rock. Beyond the plains was a mountain range, and there should be sufficient wood there. Kusla thought to himself that this place really had lots of resources.

They walked a little further down the plaza, and Phil stopped before a stone building. The large front gates were facing the stable, trampled ground, which allowed for horses and carriages to enter and ferry their wares. A few men were on a straw mat, trading, and there was a pile of fur beside them.

“Pardon my intrusion!”

Phil greeted in the traditional manner, and passed through the gates. The few men lifted their heads. It appeared they were not full fledged hunts, and nor were they full fledged merchants. Their roles could not be defined as such, and they gave the impression that they had to do everything to survive.

One of them was a short man with some white hair strands, and he slowly stood up from the mat. The wrinkles on his face appeared to be carved by a knife, and they probably were caused by the cold. He looked an eccentric fellow by the way he stood up, but on closer look, those wrinkles looked happy.

“Oh, Mr Phil.”

As expected, the man showed an earnest smile as he embraced Phil. The other two men seemed to know Phil too, and exchanged handshakes.

“Why the sudden visit in the winter? I can’t help you gather information even if you try to coerce me. It’s no deer or hare after all.”

“No, it’s not the usual . I am here to pass this to you, Mr Cyrus.”

Phil pulled a letter from his clutches, and handed it over. It seemed he often had the man called Cyrus gather myths of the Far North. Looking closely, the two men on the straw mat were mostly wearing fur. It appeared they were from the Northern tribes, for their emphasis was different from the South’s custom of more fur clothing equating to more prestige. They definitely could obtain information that could not be obtained in the South.

Cyrus received the letter, and glanced aside at Kusla’s group. Irine gave an earnest smile, while Kusla and Weyland had no such capability.

“The head of the Poldorofs sent me here.”

“The old geezer?”

Cyrus asked as he opened the letter, read the content, and once he glanced through, he widened his eyes.

“Th-the legend’s…solved?”

“Yes. Half of it, but we have an idea of what happened on this land.”

Upon hearing that, Cyrus instinctively looked towards Kusla’s group.

He opened his mouth, as though he had something to say, but nothing came out.

“So we’re here to solve the other half. We want to rent the charcoal cottage outside this town. You probably won’t be using it this season, I suppose?”

“Eh? Ahh, yes…not for the moment…they are…hm?”

Cyrus gave Phil a pleading look for help, clearly looking frantic. It was a common reaction of one meeting an alchemist for the first time.

“Yes. Various troubles happened in the process, but they solved this mystery not too long ago. These are the outstanding craftsmen everyone is amazed by.”

Kusla decided to act a little formal, and bowed silently, for he was not introduced as an alchemist. A faltering Cyrus did the same.

However, Kusla wondered, what exactly was Phil planning?

It was the past, but the legend of the angel also referred to the one that destroyed the town. It was hard to guarantee that Cyrus would have second thoughts about it, that Kusla and company would destroy this place once again after solving the mystery.

Also, Phil was showing concern for Fenesis.

Kusla thought, and prioritized the things he needed to do.

No matter the situation he was in, he should be prioritizing the things important to him.

“Speaking of which…erm, what was solved…”

Phil answered Cyrus, who seemed to be seeking respite.

“The method used to destroy this town.”

Cyrus widened his eyes at that moment, and one could hear him gasp.

The duo seated on the mat looked perturbed, probably because they did not understand, but it seemed they realized this was something major.

Kusla immediately grabbed Fenesis’ hand, his other hand on the dagger behind his waist. Weyland in turn looked out for Irine, and stood at a position where he could protect her.

The onlookers were staring at a startled Cyrus.

The only people who would be happy about a technology that could destroy a city were those like Alzen, who knew how to execute wars, or alchemists like Kusla and Weyland, or people who desired knowledge, like PHil.

They were too reckless after all.

Kusla gave a somewhat reproaching look towards Phil’s sturdy back, and then─

“You mean…”

Cyrus raised his voice.

“The curse laid on this town…is finally undone, no?”

“Curse?”

Kusla instinctively asked, and all attention was him. It was too late to regret that he was overly sensitive because of Fenesis.

But Cyrus, who stared intently at Kusla without blinking, gave an unexpected response.

He suddenly smiled, as though all tension was gone.

“Haha, I too am aware…this so-called curse is like a dog who was burned by a heater.”

“…?”

This time, it was Kusla who was confused.

“It is better to look into the matter, rather than to fear what is in the grass. Speaking of which, the Poldorofs had been doing this for generations.”

He did not know the real intent behind Cyrus’ words, but he knew what the latter referred to. Elsewhere, the Poldorofs replicated the layout of the destroyed Abbas, copied the Whites’ rituals, and even prepared all the alchemy tools.

It was all to investigate how the Whites managed to destroy an entire town like that.

“They might not have said so, but they probably do not dare to live here. This new town is becoming so prosperous, and they never looked back at this land.”

Since Cyrus mentioned it, Kusla realized it was the case. While it was an endless plain, and snowing, it was a good, simple place to gather fur.

Perhaps the reasons Cyrus stated might be why the Poldorofs never did so.

“I suppose…that since Mr Phil brought you here, you must be a Southerner? We may be deemed barbarians to you, but those well acquainted with this land have called it cursed, and dared not reside here.”

Fenesis exerted some strength into Kusla’s hand.

She was one of the Cursed, the oppressed.

Kusla nodded slightly towards Fenesis.

He wanted her not to worry.

“But this ends today. My idea to go with Mr Phil’s plan is correct, but am I being too anxious? How did it work?”

And in complete contrast to the wary Kusla’s group, Cyrus could not contain the delight in his heart as he asked Phil. It appeared the latter hard already predicted this reaction, for he showed the poised smile of a merchant, and nodded in exaggeration.

“It’s not perfect yet, but I suppose you should be happy with this.”

Cyrus cupped his head with both hands, as though stopping himself from yelling out loud.

This delight seemed ridiculous to Kusla, but it seemed they were not deemed as hostile. He gave Weyland a look, and moved his hand away from his dagger.

“Do you mind explaining what’s going on?”

Kusla’s words were directed at Phil, who definitely muffled his voice because of the curse pertaining to this land. It was no wonder then why he would give Fenesis a look.

“We don’t mind, but I think you have some things to ask too, Mr Cyrus?”

Upon hearing Phil’s words, Cyrus recovered.

“Ye-yes! I haven’t greeted such important guests! Please wait. I shall discuss this later!”

He looked as though he was not going to be denied. Kusla’s group too wanted to hear the legend of the angel.

Cyrus said a few words to the men seated on the straw mat, and they hurriedly ran off. As he looked at them, Kusla repeated the same words in his heart.

The cursed land.

He turned aside, and found Fenesis. She, probably one of the Whites, the cursed tribe, was smiling adamantly, as though telling him not to worry.

Cyrus was from a branch family of the Poldorofs, born in the rebuilt Abbas. He liked to hunt moreso than to sell fur, so he had been wandering in the Northern lands, only to be attracted to this land, and decided to stay here. It was said Cyrus was the one who convinced the Northern elders to turn this forgotten land no one dared to approach into a trading hub.

As Phil explained this, Kusla and the others were led along the dirt path where trades were done and goods were loaded. They entered a house, sat by a heater, and were served drinks.

There was a row of animal bones on the wall, probably the spoils of their hunt. However, it was not scary in the slightest, for every bone was dried completely, and were ornamented with flowers and grass.

It was not just to boast his hunting skills, but to show his fear and reverence. If they had been the Church’s territory, those things would have been deemed heretical, but it was appropriate for these lands.

“So, what is the revealed legend about?”

Once everyone, including the Knights escorting them, had a cup of warm wine in hand, Cyrus asked excitedly.

“The meaning to the ritual tools passed down in Abbas, and the technology that was used to summon the sun onto this land.”

Phil explained, and pulled a little rock-like translucent crystal from the bag hanging by his waist. It was the sun fragment.

“I-is this it? This destroyed the land…?”

Cyrus gasped, inadvertently leaning back.

“Do be at ease. This thing alone will not cause anything even if it is thrown into the fire.”

“…I-is that so?”

“Reduce it to powder, add charcoal and sulfur, and it will become a powerful incendiary. We know this translucent crystal is from the ground where the sacrifices were buried, and limestone covered over them.”

Cyrus listened to Phil’s explanation, and stared apprehensively at the sun fragment. It was not as heavy as pure gold, not as watery as mercury, and did not feel like dirt. Perhaps it was mixed into salt crystals, or even common rocks.

But it contained some really incredible power.

“So-so…that was what they used in the past?”

“But there are some issues to ascertain, so it is half solved.”

Phil looked towards Kusla, prompting the latter to explain.

“The amount I have now can only shine through the darkness at best.”

Kusla’s words had Cyrus blinking away.

“It’s possible to increase the power as much as possible by adding quantity, and it’s not impossible to burn an entire town down. It’ll require a lot of them however, stacked higher than humans. This land was once burned down, so it’s likely they had that much energy gathered. On the other hand, this so-called fire herb was distilled to make something brand new. The legendary item used by the Whites might be something completely different.”

Cyrus looked dumbfounded, for he probably did not understand at all

Phil seemingly had enough as he explained further.

“In other words, the great fire might have been triggered by something else, but the fragment in your hands might be able to recreate the legend, as long as we have enough.”

Cyrus nodded, seemingly having digested these words.

“The charcoal and sulfur just mentioned… and the live sacrifice?”

“And limestone.”

“It’s possible to…create quantities. We have lots of wood in the forests for charcoal, and we can extract sulfur at the volcano in the Zardin area. As for the live sacrifices, I presume you have seen the entrance. We have lots of them. Do we have to use white bears?”

Phil shook his head.

“No, I think anything should be fine. The legend hints at the corpse of a sinner, but since a white bear is fine, I suppose a deer or a hare should work too.”

“I…see. In other word, thi-this is…”

It seemed Cyrus was convinced after hearing the explanation, but there was another reason other than the firepower why Kusla assumed there was another possibility other than the fire herb.

Basically, while he imagined the Whites preparing lots of fire herb, there was something he just could not comprehend. Why did the Whites prepare that much fire herb? It would be strange if they really intended to blow up the town. They worked together to develop Abbas, and ended up persecuted to the distant lands, and some bones with left with shackles. He could imagine many other reasons why others would murder them in rage.

They contributed finance and construction to the town of Yazon, and while there were no records of them being persecuted, they never remained there.

Why did they show such a cruel side at Abbas?

And another thing.

If they were truly persecuted, it would be really difficult to concoct such a massive stockpile of fire herbs, charcoal and sulfur. It was difficult to extract sun fragments from the ground, and they would have garnered much attention if they were digging around at the ritual site. The ground had to be washed, boiled, and roasted; a lot of effort and fuel would be needed.

They were persecuted, and yet they invited the locals to help? Did the Whites that many in numbers to begin with?

He could not explain this at all.

Also, there was something Kusla wanted to confirm.

“So, what’s the curse about?”

Fenesis, who should be of the same tribe as the Whites, was dubbed a cursed person.

There were signs of the persecuted Whites throughout the towns they visited.

Clearly they were treated as a curse, but Kusla heard this term for the first time, from Cyrus.

Cyrus in turn never looked too heavy hearted as he said,

“This is a relatively faraway place, and few come here. Of course, there are some superstitious folks. Some leave the house, see the hawk turn counterclockwise, and are unwilling to enter the hills. When the hunting arrows they use break into pieces, they will think of it as some ominous omen. By that same logic─”

Cyrus stared at the furnace fire unflinchingly, and gave a calm smile,

“Think about it. What if there was an explosion that suddenly destroyed a town? Legend has it that it was done by the Whites, but people remain restless because they do not know what was used. The description is that the fire pillar was as tall as the sky, and this is why people feared the fire. This is why even though the land is so large, there are no new houses built here.”

They feared the fire.

Upon hearing that, Kusla came to realize.

“We can’t set up a furnace here?”

“Yes. There was always a doubt…did we use the fire appropriately, causing that tragedy to occur?”

When there was a cause, there was an effect. Such was the thinking of an alchemist, the reason for superstitions and ridiculous omens.

“But~”

This time, it was Weyland who interrupted.

“We have a furnace here. Is there not a fire outside~?”

Cyrus grimaced as he scratched his head.

“I too was scared initially, but I wasn’t willing to lose to this superstition, so I went about setting fires everywhere. I then convinced the various tribes that it’s fine to set fires here, and that’s the situation now.”

“Oh, then, it won’t be a bad idea to make the fire bigger~”

One could assume that an experiment was a sword and shield used to pry through the fog. There had to be another reason why Cyrus could not shake off the fear despite being equipped with them.

“That’s why I say it’s a curse.”

Cyrus put down the vessel containing the wine, and closed his eyes.

He resembled a praying hermit, or rather, he might really be praying.

Cyrus slowly opened his eyes, and gave a determined smile,

“The legend never stated what happened to the Whites after that. Tribes passed down these legends, and some insisted that this land was overly disturbed, which angered the spirits of the land. We fear this shadow; this white shadow is like a curse on us.”

“So basically, you’re worried that the Whites will return to this land?”

Cyrus nodded in response to Kusla’s question. While he was unwilling to believe it, he could not ignore the possibility completely.

The group of snow-like Whites might appear from the other side of the open plains, and reduce all the hard work to nothing.

They speculated wildly, for they did not know the reason.

It might be hard to laugh it off.

As alchemists, they thoroughly understood how powerful the bias of the townsfolk could be.

And the same for Fenesis, who was oppressed.

There was silence, and they could hear the dancing ash by the furnace. Cyrus finally lifted his head, and said heartily,

“But you will bring light into our darkness. I shall not fear when I create a fire at a new place. All we have to do is to dig a hole, and ascertain that there is nothing buried inside, I presume?”

He pinched the sun fragment Phil handed over, raised it high, and observed it like a crystal.

“You need to add sulfur and charcoal.”

Phil quipped as he put his hand on Cyrus’ shoulder, seemingly cheering the latter on,

“Mr Cyrus, we believe the angel’s legend is neither a spell nor a miracle, but a technology created by our own hands. In other words, it can be investigated, controlled, and used. It is like using alum instead of oak nodules when tanning tanner. We shall prove that there is no curse on this land, and─”

Phil deliberately gave a humble smile.

It was a merchant’s smile, one to calm Cyrus down.

“For this reason, we hope for you to assist us.”

They did not know what happened, what went wrong, for such a great disaster to occur. They resided upon this land that might end up destroyed once again. He was already mentally prepared, and could only latch onto firmly any hint that could solve this mystery. There was no other choice.

Cyrus stared calmly at Phil, and regained the distinct eyes of a hunter.

He was one who, when forced to walk forward, would put his mind into it.

“Of course I shall help. What else do you need, other than a hut with a furnace?”

“We may need to try various things while investigating, so we wish to employ your help. Also, if there are some strange things in the hut outside the village, it will be of bad repute, I believe?”

The woodcutters, shepherds and flour makers were often deemed suspicious by the townsfolk as they usually worked at places few people were at.

“Please leave that to me. Some of the Northern Tribes find new Abbas to be too far for trading, and some feel that they can move to reside here if possible. I suppose everyone will lend their support if I explain matters to them.”

“I’m really grateful.”

“Please don’t say so.”

Cyrus widened his eyes, shaking his head aside.

He then grabbed Phil’s hands firmly, before grabbing Kusla’s.

It was a rather large and coarse hand.

“Please solve the mystery to this legend. We spent much effort redeveloping the land to this extent, but to many, the memories of that great disaster still remains. Many people died, and the fear lingered. The nearby residents departed, resulting in the cessation of trade, and the prosperity of the Northern lands was greatly reduced. We are however born in the North, and will die here. We don’t want to live with the fear that we may be destroyed here. Please release us from the curse of this land, please…”

Cyrus moved his hand that was touching Kusla’s, and touched it with his forehead.

It might be a local custom, a subservient ritual.

Kusla could only stare coldly at people who hoped for miracles to befall them, being overly expectant.

But they had the same goals.

“Leave it to us.”

They would solve all the mysteries of the Whites, and seek the logic deeper than the truth.

And head towards the Land of Magdala.

Kusla muttered in his heart as he held Cyrus’ hand.

It happened after they obtained much meat and fur from Cyrus.

Their viewpoint changed after they listened to the description and looked upon the land.

Further down was a vast plain, a rich fertile forest to the outside, a river meandering through. It was convenient for the scattered Northern tribes to move their spoils about. Everything needed for development was in place.

Despite that, there was a reason why the houses were so spaced out.

“We can’t build more furnaces.”

They went outdoors, took a breath of icy wind through the nose, and sensed a faint stench of fur.

“It is a furnace no burned dog will dare to approach after all.”

“I guess that has something to do with why every house here is built from rock.”

“These houses don’t burn easily.”

Phil said, and Kusla looked over to see the book merchant, who had visited this land many times, nod slowly.

“Most of the wooden houses were either burned down back then, or collapsed when the wind blew.”

“Also, there is another reason why we dared not build new houses.”

Cyrus and the others feared, for they did not know where the Whites went.

They did not know why the Whites left, and did not know when the Whites would return.

“But you said the main point.”

Kusla smiled at Phil, who was taken aback.

“We shall solve the legend, and prove that it is not magic, but a technology that can be controlled.”

“If we can grasp where the Whites went, all the better.”

He did not really have the urge to help others; on this land where the legend remained, it was simply a coincidence that his goals were the same as Cyrus.

Cyrus proved something very important to Kusla.

Fenesis’ curse probably could be solved in the same manner. After all, curses were merely bias and convictions based on ignorance.

Kusla grabbed firmly the reason to advance as he said,

“How about we have a look at the scars of the disaster a century ago? So that we can begin sooner? Or are we going to stay?”

“Yes. A look is better than a hundred hearsays~.”

Weyland too appeared enthusiastic, but Irine seemed a little unwilling.

“Are we really fine with that?”

“Huh? Do you actually believe in the curse?”

Kusla deliberately sneered, partially to mock Irine’s unexpected superstition, and also for Fenesis’ sake. Even if there was a curse, he would merely laugh it off.

“What about you? Are you going along?”

Upon being teased, Fenesis puffed her cheeks, and glared upwards at Kusla.

“I am an alchemist.”

She should be fine, given how she could maintain that façade.

“The problem is that that legend might be too exaggerated, and that we’ll be disappointed seeing it for real.”

Kusla joked, and Phil merely shrugged.

“I suppose you don’t have to worry about that.”

Phil sounded like a child who said he had witnessed a large deer in the forest, but that nobody believed him.

“Let’s make a detour before we go to that hut.”

Phil led the way, and Kusla stood up to follow, slapping Fenesis on the back.

Nothing major.

Fenesis nodded slightly, and walked alongside Kusla.

“It was said the town extended as far as this forest.”

It was near noon, and the group heard Phil’s explanation of old Abbas’ layout as they trodded down the brightest.

“Most of the original plains were covered in roads and houses, and it was on the verge of creeping into the forest. One can only imagine how big it was.”

“Didn’t they recreate the current new Abbas based on this place?”

“It’s built from memory after all. I don’t think it’ll be completely similar.”

“Is the plaza here the same as before? If that’s the case, the positioning of the town and the river seems a little weird.”

Kusla looked around. They were some distance from the plaza, in the middle of a white snowland. The paths were extended out from the plaza, and they were headed towards a forest, a path people had walked upon.

Perhaps if they pried the snow apart, they could discover the path they took back then.

“If the river flows in that direction, and goes right up to this town, and if this side’s the town, the plaza is over there…”

While Kusla stated his thoughts, Phil nodded, and answered,

“Actually, the blast back then blew up the entire town, resulting in the land and the river flow changed permanently.”

“The river flow…?”

“It was said that when the town was destroyed in a single night, the river flow too changed.”

SInce he said so, this probably was the case.

Kusla however took some time to digest these words. An alchemist would be familiar with this, as he would use a water wheel for water treatment. One could imagine how dire it was.

And suddenly, he realized that the scale he knew of was different.

“And when I heard your words, Kusla, I did attempt to calculate.”

Phil’s words pulled Kusla’s thoughts back.

“We need a lot of land just to fill a belly-sized crate of sun fragments. If we need a hundred times of that, we probably won’t have enough land unless we bury corpses all over the town.”

“…So you mean the town was destroyed just to create enough corpses?”

The main ingredient for the fire herb was the white bear organ, buried underground and covered with ash.

The buried organs could probably be replaced with others.

“But that will defeat the purpose.”

Corpses were needed to create the fire herbs, and explosions were caused to create corpses, but this did not make sense. Of course, Kusla was joking.

However, he might have joked about it, wanting to distance himself from this matter at hand.

An explosion changed a river flow in a single night.

He was ashamed to say that he never expected that.

Frustrated by that, Kusla said loathsomely,

“Either way, we know once again that we need lots of energy. It seems to imply that there was quite some preparation that was done, and there had to be a reason for this.”

“Yes. Either way, the technology ties back to its aim. What were the Whites thinking?”

Phil muttered away, as though complaining that the Whites should have recorded down their acts in the history books.

“Oh yes. Are we at the ruins yet? We have walked quite a while.”

I’m not going to be intimidated by the legend, so Kusla thought as he asked Phil before him. The book merchant smiled slyly.

“We’re near. It’s just as the ancient theologians hated to say.”

“Huh?”

The self-proclaimed book merchant loved to give some exposition.

“The reason why we can’t find God anywhere in this world is because we have not been educated on His appearance.”

Kusla frowned skeptically. Fenesis and Weyland too looked down incredulously. Irine tiptoed about, as though fearful that there were explosives buried underground.

Nevertheless, it was a trampled, flattened snow land.

“It’s all to the right.”

“Right…?”

Upon hearing that, he turned aside to find a mere hill. The snow had turned everything white, and when viewed from afar, the slopes could not be noticed. Up close however, one could determine some gradient. One could either call it a hill or a gentle slope, but there was a flat arch straightened before him, and the path meandered with the slope.

“We’ll see it a little further down…ah, yes. It’s beyond this slope.”

There was a pile of snow in a corner of the gentle smile. Phil slapped the snow, and revealed a stone mound at waist height. They looked up the slope, and it appeared there were stairs at the base of the snow.

“This place is said to be a sacred place to the locals, a place where people feared and revered. The Northerners dared not approach this land because of the rumors they had. As Mr Cyrus said, they had proven that lighting fires here is safe, but he barely managed to convince them with all his efforts, and they allowed people to enter this place.”

Phil said as he checked for the stairs with his feet, scaling up. Kusla looked up the slope, and Weyland took a step first. Irine too followed warily, and Fenesis remained next to him.

“What is it?”

Kusla could not answer, for his mouth was agape. He would be a fool if his mouth was agape because of tension, and not the cold. The escorts who were tailing them slightly afar had caught up.

“Anything amiss?”

They asked earnestly, having sensed Kusla’s nervousness, and checked their surroundings warily, their hands on their hilts as they readied themselves into drawing the shields on their backs.

Of course, there were no enemies to be seen in the endless snow plain. There were merely tourists dragging their donkeys, strolling along, and hawk-like birds flying in the skies.

A few trails of smoke rose from the plaza, proving that there were people there. The one word to describe this scene in particular was ‘serene’.

Kusla however gasped, forced a smile, and shook his head.

“I have a premonition, maybe.”

“Premonition?”

The guards exchanged looks, and barely accepted this explanation. After all, the one they were guarding did enact a miracle.

Kusla’s eyes turned to the top of the slope once again. It was not steep in the slightest, and the height was probably double a person’s. Even the stout looking Phil could easily climb up; Weyland and Irine were almost at the top, but Kusla had a feeling there was something extraordinary. It was akin to opening an ancient lore at the workshop, in the middle of the night, the knowledge that by opening one page, the world would change completely. Of course, it was utter delight, a real joy to an alchemist

Yes.

Surely it was because he was overly happy.

Kusla took a deep breath, took a step forward, and step by step, he advanced forth. His breathing became erratic, his strides lengthening.

Once she saw Kusla suddenly move forward, Fenesis hastily tried to give chase, but Kusla was in a trance-like state, and did not wait for her. He merely stared at the slope, and practically ran towards it.

No matter the journey, he would feel that once he reached his destination, everything would be within grasp.

Phil, Weyland and Irine arrived at the peak, and Kusla, who left a little later, arrived.

After two breaths, Fenesis too panted, having finally caught up. She slapped Kusla’s shoulder, complaining about how ambiguous he was being.

But after that, she could not say anything.

Or perhaps her words never entered Kusla’s ears.

For the sight before him was so extraordinary.

“I think I’m starting to understand why the tribes believe the Whites unleashed wrath upon this land.”

Phil’s words vanished along with the white breath in the wind.

Kusla gasped.

He could no longer dismiss this rumor as a barbaric daydream of an undeveloped land.

It easily surpassed his imagination as a puny human. Such a supernatural phenomenon truly existed in this world.

“You’re, kidding~?”

Weyland’s feeble voice said everything. Entering their eyes was a massive crater, seemingly sucking people in. Their knees wobbled once they realized they were standing near the epicenter.

The power was large enough to change a river flow instantly. A large crater was created, and it was no wonder then that a town got destroyed.

The legend was too coincidental with reality.

Yet it seemed so surreal.

Was it really possible to do so? Was the cause of the massive disaster due to the fire herb they rediscovered? Could a technology harnessed by humanity really bring such an outcome?

Once he had such a thought, Kusla unwittingly looked back.

He looked down the slope, and clearly saw a few buildings scattered about, along with a barren plain.

He unwittingly gasped, for he finally understood the meaning of the land he had just leisurely walked through.

The Whites blew up the land, creating this crater, and blasted away everything that could be seen.

We’ll be disappointed seeing it for real, the brash words from him were met with a sneer from the bottom of the crater.

Were they deluded in thinking they could solve an extraordinary mystery?

The feelings started to spread in Kusla’s heart, and he was dumbfounded.

Was it fear?

How foolish, he gritted his teeth.

“Down from here, we can see the temple in the middle. Can you see it? Over there, at the enter of the crater.”

Phil’s words had Kusla reeling.

Fear of technology might be a privilege to the unknowing commonfolk.

“The temple is linked to an underground cave beneath it. We can’t see it clearly as there’s snow, but large rocks were moved here before they built this place.”

One could vaguely see a small lump of snow at the center of the crater, bare black rocks that remained uncovered. It was probably the entrance.

“It looks small, but it’s large enough for a person to enter.”

The size of the hole before them, along with the snow covering the land, made it difficult to gauge the distance.

It appeared the hole was bigger than they imagined.

“Shall we check the temple? Or do we prepare everything at the hut before─”

Before Phil could finish, Kusla took a step forward.

“How can we wait?”

He muttered in a trance, and went down the snow, soon teetering over. Weyland immediately gave chase, and the two alchemists kicked the snow, tumbling down towards the temple, suppressing the urge to yell how it was possible.

The only reason they could suppress the urge was because they felt that if they yelled at such an empty hole, they would once again realize how powerless they were. No matter how they flailed their hands and vented their frustrations, they could not seal nor expand this massive hole. It was as futile as firing an arrow into the sky. One had to wonder if humanity could change the world with its own power.

As an alchemist, he naively believed he could do anything like God, yet his conviction took a severe hit.

If there was anything of solace to him, it was that Weyland appeared to be the same. Another point was that the construct of the temple, which he abruptly realized once he stood before it.

“Haa…haa…”

Kusla panted, his shoulders heaving massively as he sized up the temple that was double his height, from bottom to top. As Phil said, it was a large temple made from stone, and there was a stone staircase at the entrance that would lead them underground. He would not be surprised if this temple was a tribune to a certain mountain deity residing deep in the mountain/ For the first time in his life however, Kusla realized that the stones were symbols of terror, the reverence of something of unknown origin.

The temple was not simply to worship the Whites as Gods. Cyrus had perfectly encapsulated the fear rooted in this land.

The large stones stacked together were not simply a symbol. They contained a hope that the unknown substance used to blast this town would never arise again.

Even after several generations, the people could not forget the tragedy that happened, and sealing them was a tragedy, secure, impregnable ‘lid’.

Kusla wanted to gulp, but he realized how parched his mouth was.

He originally believed the technology itself was not defined by good and evil.

But he personally realized then that the existence of a powerful force might be a form of evil.

For Kusla, who sought the sword of godly metal Orichalcum that was said to be capable of cleaving the land, he felt as though he had witnessed a truth, and was reminded of what he was truly seeking.

People would fear their technology, submit to it, and harbor excessive expectations, but they were all nonsense borne from their ignorance. He could not say these words however.

Once he personally witnessed this, he realized that this world truly contained technology that would render them such.

“The…Whites.”

Kusla muttered, and inhaled a large gulp of air.

Were they angels or demons? Were they truly unique existences sent from God?

From the bottom of the hole, Kusla looked up at the clear skies...

A hawk slowly flew in circles above, probably to supervise these insolent people.

Act 2

After witnessing the temple, they went to a charcoal hut that was not the shoddy wooden cabin they had imagined, but an intricate stone structure complete with a water wheel.

“Feels like this place is more of a workplace for large fires instead of a charcoal hut.”

This hut had a basement and two levels, and was accompanied with a smelting furnace powered by a water wheel. There probably was a demand for knives, given that the tanning industry was rife. The smoldering stove for charcoal was outside, and well maintained. Surely people often used it.

“To this settlement, fire is a special existence.”

The scars from the legend still existed, and people were still bound by the devastating memory.

“It’s understandable after seeing that river. It’s probably like a painting out of hell.”

When he was a child, Kusla witnessed his hometown razed to the ground.

But the land was not simply devoured by fire. It suffered an unprecedented experience that was most likely witnessed for the first time ever since humanity arrived on this land.

“That technology’s actually capable of this.”

Even Weyland, who could often laugh it off no matter how shocking it was, seemed utterly defeated as he put his hand on his forehead.

Kusla could have put up a facade if Weyland had acted nonchalant.

However, it was so shocking that they forgot to do so.

“This is the fear caused by our ignorance…we can’t laugh at others now.”

Kusla said, recalling how he stood for ages before the temple.

They entered the temple, fueled by their curiosity, which lit their path through the terrifying darkness.

They passed through the entrance of the temple, and arrived at a cave deeper than the one they had entered by. There appeared to be intricate crevices between the rocks forming the entrance, preserving some visibility. The cave was not dug up by man, and the fact was confirmed by the fact that the rock between them had turned into glass or ash. Fire of tremendous temperatures devoured the place.

And it was likely that fire exploded from the core of the cave.

Kusla followed Weyland down the stone steps, and his footsteps were cautious, for he could not erase the foolish thoughts from his mind. He had a feeling that if he trampled about, a pillar of fire would rise.

Once he got to the bottom, his eyes got used to the darkness, and he could somewhat distinguish the surrounding objects.

Weyland, who was before him, lifted his head, and stared intently at something.

“What is it?”

Weyland merely lifted his chin when posed with the question.

And Kusla looked over at where Weyland was looking.

“…A mural…? Angels?”

Looking up the hole, he found that the temple ceiling was tall, about four to five times his height. Stretching high up was a powerful looking mural. Depicted upon them were similar looking people dressed in robes with distinct animal features, akin to heralds, their hands raised above, flying.

Such a simplistic design felt strangely ominous, and they gasped, for there was a mysterious flame colored in bright red dye, stretching from their feet to the temple’s ceiling. Depicted here was not simply a fact that had happened, but a respect, lament, flummox, or simply, the urge to question.

Why did they do that? What was this town, this land?

There were parchments, meat and fruits offered at the base of the mural. There was nary a sight of rats, nor any signs of decay, as they laid there, perhaps because of the frigid weather, or the timely offerings.

Kusla knew that he was overthinking it, but it seemed the meat and fruits were in awe and silenced.

“Well, we can be sure something did happen here.”

They couldn’t see any expressions on the sidelong faces of the angels, and the emotionless eyes, depicted as holes on such murals, looked up towards the sky. The people kneeling at their feet lamented, but their cries fell on deaf ears. Would it be biased of them to assume that the angels were cruel?

“I really…don’t want to show her this.”

Kusla muttered as he stared at the mural. He knew that Weyland was looking at him, but he did not look back.

After all, he did not truly intend to shy Fenesis away from this.

“…I am fine.”

Fenesis, having entered through the entrance along with Irine, said adamantly. She might have resolved herself.

“I am a little relieved, actually.”

“…Relieved?”

Kusla asked, and Fenesis gave a restrained, bitter smile.

“Yes. A certain person will be fuming if there is nothing interesting found after we have come all the way here.”

They went through hardships to pursue this legend. Kusla once said that if there really was nothing, others would have laughed their hides off.

But he was not to be swallowed by the legend.

For it was he who would devour it instead.

“Ah, you’re right.”

Kusla nodded, his hands on his hips as he made an exaggerated sigh. He stood before the mural that nearly overwhelmed him, and had to at least act decent to salvage the situation.

“Since it had turned into quite the situation, that’s an opponent worthy of us. Alchemists are those who dare to grab the hems of God, and not to be terrified of this little thing.”

It was obvious how pretentious he was being, but it was a form of pride as an alchemist, which should relieve Fenesis somewhat. This girl with the cursed blood was smiling with relief.

And so, drawn back to reality, Kusla said while being in the charcoal hut,

“Alchemists are those who dare to grab the hems of God. We’re going to find a way to fly in the skies, understand what the Whites did here, and kick the hinds of the locals if they continue to shiver. We’ll seek out the trails of the Whites, and seize them!”

“Seize?”

Irine’s question had Kusla snickering.

“I got lots of questions to ask.”

“Like, whether the Whites are as adorable as little Ul?”

That’s just your wish, right? Kusla had to chuckle at this, but his mind started to conjure such images, so he hastily answered to erase it.

“I’m going to ask if they really created the godly metal Orichalcum, and others.”

Irine’s eyes immediately blinked away. She did once create a replica of the legendary Damascus steel. The always enigmatic Weyland too seemed interested, and bucked up.

“Yeah. The best way to get answers is to capture the people involved and ask. The best way to that day is to fly in the air like birds and look for them~.”

“That’s the logic. Let’s prepare for our experiments.”

Kusla clapped, as though hinting at a magic code, and the workshop soon regained his usual atmosphere.

“Alright, where shall we begin from?”

Irine rolled up her sleeves, released her tools from her belongings, and asked enthusiastically.

“One likely manner as to why the town exploded is the fire herb, but we’ve no idea on the technology for flying. Our current objective is to seek out other methods, and my guess is that it’s a technology no inferior to the fire herb or the flamethrower, efficient for battle.”

“City walls shall be obsolete, huh~.”

“Alzen will be crying tears of joy.”

The Knights, employers of Kusla and company, were in a state of war against the ex-Pagan country of Latria who had allied with the Southern rulers, and the Pope, ruling the Church, had decreed to purge the Knights. No matter how strong the Knights were, this truly was a disadvantageous situation.

Despite that, they could possibly reverse the situation if they capitalize upon the amazing technology left by the Whites.

Kusla and the others did not wish to partake in the war though. No matter what happened to the Knights, they wished to simply set up a workshop to proceed with research, and were fine with whoever was invigilating them.

The issue then was that while they assumed the survival of the Knights was unrelated to them, the Knights had the opposite viewpoint.

“Anyway, haven’t you already figured it out?”

Irine’s sudden question left Kusla momentarily perturbed, and then he immediately understood what she referred to. It was an interlude that happened while they were searching for the sun fragments at the new Abbas, which they had resided at just days ago.

Irine was skeptical that there were things other than birds that could fly in the sky, and so was Fenesis.

“If it’s something very light, it can float without effort when smoke from a flame rises.”

“So we can’t apply this idea?”

Truly it was the thought of a blacksmith who could create anything with her hammer.

“I suppose it is possible if we use the fire herb or the elixir…but it is easier to witness the real deal than to explain with words.”

“Hm…? But we just need to gather the smoke, don’t we?”

Irine was the most skeptical about the idea of flying, but it seemed she was sometimes curious because she was suspicious.

“Of course. First, we need some thin paper, glue, and rope. Make it into a bag. A bran adhesive will be the best option…”

It was the part exposed after the wheat husks were pried off, hard, and sticky when mixed with water.

“They probably have some powerful glue made while tanning that should be better than bran. I’ll go get some. Leave the paper to me too. I’m a book merchant after all.”

Phil slapped his chest with his fist.

“Weyland and I will create a sample then.”

“Understood. We’ll just make the bag then. Mr Phil, little Ul and I shall assist in procuring the ingredients. Please lead the way.”

“Leave it to me.”

After this discussion, Irine and Fenesis put their fur coats on. Irine, ever deft in her actions, went out first, and the slightly clumsy Fenesis followed with her hands on the door, before glancing back at Kusla. The latter assumed she was disappointed that he did not ask her to stay, but it did not seem to be the case, for she smiled impishly, waved at him, and gave chase after Irine.

Naturally, Kusla did not bother to wave back as he began preparing sulfur, coal and the sun fragments. In the meantime, Weyland was preparing the distillation equipment, and said gleefully,

“You should have waved back~.”

Kusla did not look peeved, and merely sighed back at Weyland,

“There’s some joy in not waving back, I believe.”

No way am I able to do such a frivolous gesture──Kusla could easily imagine her looking elated the moment he reacted in a panic.

In any case, it was fortuitous that she was not dejected due to the tragic fate that befell the Whites.

“Fine relationship~.”

Weyland nodded understandingly, and Kusla answered with a straight face.

“Thanks to the lot of you.”

Unexpectedly though, Weyland remained still as though he was spellstruck. Kusla ignored the response as he continued with his preparations, opening the lid of the wooden box containing the sun fragments.

“What? It’s thanks to your help that we are who we are today, no?”

They racked their heads together, and worked together to overcome crisis after crisis, and finally made it this far.

Most importantly though, he truly did not know how to deal with Fenesis, and for that, he owed Weyland and Irine a huge favor. He tried to steady his emotions, acting as though he was narrating a fact, but he was unable to keep it hidden until the very end.

Finally, he bitterly confessed,

“It was truly unbecoming.”

Weyland seemed to have recovered, and gave a really conflicted look as he reached down and coughed while laughing. Kusla was a little intrigued, for in the past, he would be frustrated from such a response.

“Kusla~.”

“Ah?”

Kusla asked, and the still smiling Weyland said, looking gaudy,

“You’re a decent bloke.”

“…”

A frown appeared on Kusla’s nose, and he looked absolutely disgusted by those words.

They brought a few fire herbs and elixirs, for they were worried that a mishap may happen during the movement, and that they would have to remake them.

Despite that, the fire herb was simply a combination of the sun fragments, coal and sulfur. The elixir in turn was a distilled form of the sun fragments, mixed with sulfur and charcoal respectively, before the liquids formed were mixed together. It took a lot of effort searching for a new technology, but it was extremely easy to replicate it once found.

Of them, the sun fragments mixed with sulfur created a certain kind of strong acid. According to Phil, it was an acid named based on sulfur, called sulfuric acid.

“We need to investigate the sulfuric acid and the products created by mixing them.”

Kusla suggested as he gently swayed the fluid in the glass vial.

They discovered various solids and fluids while investigating the sun fragments left behind by the Whites, and were not completely done with it. Sulfuric acid in particular was unreactive when poured onto a metal plate, but when salt was added, that fluid exhibited an inexplicable characteristic──it melted the iron plate. Kusla thought that it was all God’s creation, that whatever God did was truly remarkable, and if he continued to investigate, he might come across something more incredulous.

“So…acidum salis? That’s quite the simple name from you, Kusla.”

“The most important thing is to make it easy to understand. We don’t have to obfuscate things for the later generations.”

“Of course~.”

Weyland shrugged, grabbed some coal and sulfur, mixed it with the sun fragments, and formed the fire herb. They put the mixture upon an iron urn, lit a wheat straw, and threw it into the urn.

After that, there was a deep hissing in the urn, like a giant rumbling. A fire pillar then rose…

Kusla saw the fireball vanish like a shooting star, and was a little discouraged.

“Kusla, I noticed a problem~.”

“What a coincidence. Same here.”

The ignition of the fire herb would trigger an explosive light, and the elixir could trigger a similar reaction if mixed into paper, cloth, or wood. It was as potent as the flamethrower, so they assumed a direct correlation between the power and buoyancy, but it seemed they were too naive.

“What do we do about the fact that it immediately burned up…if we can continue to replenish the fuel…huh?”

Kusla immediately understood the reason why Weyland stopped.

“I see. This is the reason why lots of fire herbs were prepared.”

The problem was that while it could create a powerful fire, it would burn up instantly. Thus, the solution was to add lots, just like adding water to counteract the boiling vapor. Luckily, the fire herbs were light.

They started to understand why the Whites created the fire herbs in masses.

“But…was it that successful when they did so?”

Kusla did not frown, and said so with some bemusement.

One would understand by simply imagining the scene.

A human would sit in a position dangling beneath a large paper bag, and a fire would be raised like a stove. They would then quickly pour the fire herbs in, and whenever one was added, the fire demon’s fist would raise higher, holding the paper bag up…

The idea as to whether it was successful was completely beyond their imagination.

“We’ll only know if we try~.”

Weyland said with an easygoing look, but Kusla could not simply agree.

“Think about it. How many fire herbs do we need to put next to a burning stove?”

“Ah…”

Weyland realized what may happen, so he closed his eyes, and groaned.

“What if it’s designed like a sandglass?”

Perhaps a possible solution was to drip the fire herb like a sandglass, through a metallic tube that would not burn.

“Hm, let’s get to it then~.”

Weyland said, and added,

“We won’t cause trouble even if the whole place is blown up, no~?”

Faced with this black humor befitting of the fire herb, Kusla could only shrug and sigh.

Fenesis and Irine, who had been mixing the ingredients with Phil, quickly made the paper bag.

It was not anything particularly interesting, but girls would emit a unique sense of determination when working on such fine crafts. Such a sight had Weyland grinning away, while Kusla looked peeved.

He felt a little frustrated, for he had a feeling that the notion of their actions being cute was a form of corruption.

“Ready…what, is the matter?”

Fenesis, having sensed that something was amiss with Kusla, was stunned.

Kusla was speechless at his own folly, and at the same time, shook his head in denial.

They then put ropes onto the paper bag Fenesis and Irine made, a seat at the bottom, and made a candle the size of a little finger before they put on the fire herb. Irine remained skeptical, and Fenesis seemed to find it all surreal. Thus, he decided to show them how an object flying in the air would look like.

“Just make this, and light the fire. Simple enough~?”

Weyland held up the paper bag, lit a fire, and the flame glowed gently beyond the paper bag, which then began to expand. One could easily see that something was filling up within.

There was a trail of smoke rising above the candle, gently filling the bag, and Weyland slowly let go. The bag nearly fell for a moment, but it then regained its expanding self, and slowly but surely, it began to rise with the smoke.

“Woah…”

The two girls widened their eyes in shock, and the alchemists were pleased.

The bag gently rose into the air, finally hit the ceiling, and started buzzing. It dangled for a while, and slowly fell.

“That is the logic, sort of.”

He said, reaching out for the bag. Irine and Fenesis regained their senses, and seemed to be freed from a spell.

“Th-this is a fine method, no??”

Fenesis too nodded in agreement with Irine’s words.

“Can we not simply…enlarge it?”

“No matter what an alchemist encounters, he shall first ascertain, and repeat countless repetitions of experimentation.”

Weyland the continued,

“If we increase the number of candles, the weight will become an issue, and so is expanding the bag. The weight increase is not to be underestimated. This is why experiments proved that a small bag like this can fly~.”

“But since we know the buoyancy is affected by the firepower, the idea is to use a flame as powerful as a fire herb, which might work…but…”

While Kusla was speaking, Weyland brought a fire herb onto a long, thin iron spoon, and took it near the candle flame.

A sizzling immediately erupted like water droplets landing on a hot rock, and the fire herb burned up immediately.

“It is powerful, but it cannot sustain for a long time. We thought of dripping the fire herb like a sandglass into the fire, which should work.”

“And thus we understand why the angels in the legend made lots of fire herbs.”

Fenesis, Irine and even Phil nodded silently in agreement.

“But you lot were frowning away.”

Phil, who had been observing silently the entire time, noted so.

“Hm? Oh, yes.”

Kusla said in a somewhat lamenting tone, and shrugged.

“Logically, it should work. The fire herb is extremely potent. It is lighter than wood and the like, and if we can continue to put it in, it should work.”

“So what is causing you to hesitate?”

Phil asked, and Fenesis said apprehensively,

“Is it because…there is danger?”

Kusla did not answer, and reached for the paper bag he had been experimenting on. His fingers pinched the soft and warm wax, forming the shape of a vessel. He then put a minuscule amount of fire herb in, and then took a lit wheat stalk near it.

The fire herb caused a light much brighter than a candle, and was burnt immediately.

“Given that it burns up in an instant, a little bit won’t suffice. We need to generate the fire continuously, and it is almost impossible to control the flow compared to a candle.”

“…I see.”

Phil nodded grimly. One could imagine it to be an arduous task.

“If we have to make something like a sandglass, it’ll have to be metallic, right?”

So the blacksmith Irine asked,

“Iron is still iron no matter how you thin it. And…can it really float?”

“Is there no lighter metal to be used?”

“Tin is a lot lighter. How about it?”

“Hm…”

There was an atmosphere of futility lingering about, so Kusla said,

“For the time being, we intend to try. If we can’t get results, we’ll try something else.”

“But how do you intend to go about doing it?”

“We’ll start off with a tool, like a spoon, quickly dump the fire herb into the fire.”

Irine probably visualized the scene, for her waist shivered.

“I-is that fine?”

The worrywart Fenesis too looked at Kusla uneasily.

Kusla gave the look of an executioner preparing to behead someone.

“We’ll have to borrow their help.”

“Them?”

Kusla pointed at the ceiling, where their escorts should be resting at.

“I-is that fine?”

The Knights prided on their honor more than anything else, and to ensure that their dignity remained intact. Kusla slowly nodded with a solemn look.

“The armor is just a precaution. Actually, a little movement isn’t anything much given your steel-like bodies, no?”

And once he said so, the particular knight could only nod, given their reputations.

They had this knight put on the armor that was part of his baggage as a precaution, but truth be told, he should be fine as long as no mishap occurred.

“T-then…”

Even his comrades, who were grizzled warriors, stared at this knight worriedly. No matter the courage they had, it too would be dented slightly in the face of something unprecedented, unheard of, magical.

The only ones looking completely intrigued were Kusla, Weyland, and Phil. The two girls held each other’s hands worriedly.

“I’ll begin.”

Tied with rope to a tree branch was a paper bag with its opening facing down. The bag itself had a little perch resembling a cage’s, and it had a wooden plate atop it. It was part of the experiment, and the premise was to light the wooden plate. At this point, it was burning like a lit twig.

The knight covered his helmet faceplate, and with his gauntlet, held the spoon, scooped the fire herb, and added it to the flame.

The flame rose immediately, but as expected, it immediately regained its original form.

“Got to keep going.”

The knight heard Kusla’s instruction, and continued in a fluid manner, either because he knew that, or that he overcame his fears. He kept pouring quickly, and for every scoop he poured, the flame grew bigger, but it did not appear to be effective.

And there was another problem.

“Ah.”

Before the knight could cry out in the armor, the paper bag was burned up due to the rising flames, and fell.

“I-I…I was clumsy…”

The knight immediately got down on a knee, his head lowered, but failure was to be expected.

“No, that’s fine. What failed was our experiment.”

So Kusla said, but could this experiment really succeed through repeated failures alone?

“The stronger fire is good, but we can’t avoid the fact that the fire will spread everywhere…”

It would have continued burning if they had no preventive measures. They could expand the opening of the paper bag to take in the smoke, but that meant that the bag had to be bigger, which meant that it would be heavier.

Or perhaps they had to make a bag that was large enough to put a person in before this experiment could make sense?

It was a dilemma on the level of wiping off sweat with a dirty hand.

“Sorry to have you bring out your armor. Come here for the time being~.”

The knight lowered his head, feeling really apologetic upon hearing Weyland’s words, and he scurried backwards.

Phil、Irine and Fenesis helped to remain the armor that was too inconvenient to remove, while the remaining two alchemists scowled away.

“We knew it won’t work.”

“It’s important to have a premonition that it won’t work, huh~.”

There were many instances of them forcing the issue and doing as they pleased because they assumed that it would work, and instead wasted their time and effort.

However, if it could be said that an alchemist’s wish is to accomplish something nobody could have thought was possible, how should he go about doing so? Could anyone moving on blindly and relying on good luck gain the glory?

Kusla brooded over this countless times back when his apprenticeship ended and he was sent back to the Knights’ workshop as an alchemist, but soon after, he stopped doing so. At this point, the problem resurfaced again.

“There’s a limit to the fire herbs we have. We don’t have enough to experiment at will~.”

“That’s the biggest issue. It’d be great if we can harvest some here.”

“Are you going to try the town that hasn’t been touched because of that past disaster?”

They had no issues with the extraction of the fire herb, and the issue at hand was merely the scale.

They should be able to gain lots of beast organs due to the tanning work, but they had to dig holes and scatter ash regularly…such actions would be too obvious, and would require some time and expenses.

“It’ll take lots of time to send someone back to Abbas and get some sun fragments here.”

“You’re right…and we don’t know if Alzen’s messenger is at Abbas.”

Weyland’s skepticism caused Kusla a long and faint sigh.

This too was an issue.

Alzen clearly yearned for this technology to reverse their disadvantage.

The moment the Pope declared the Knights as heretics, the situation turned dire, and he surely had sent men for them.

Alzen’s forces were embroiled in turmoil at the port city of Nilburk due to the creation of a bell. No matter how fast they tried to hurry, it would take them three to four days to reach Abbas, and another two to hurry here from there. In that case, they had at most another two to three days left, and a week at most.

If they were dragged back to the battlefield, they would not be able to seek out the legend of the Whites as they wished.

Or should they wait for the war to end?

So they would hope, but the issue then would be whether the Knights could reverse the situation.

The Poldorofs ruling Abbas were especially skeptical of this, not because of their bias of hatred against the Knights, but that due to their experiences of being born living in the North, they had seen many passing refugees.

Most of the people who had escaped from the South were heretics who had declared that they discovered a new god, and were hunted down by the heretical inquisitors. They insisted that they had found their new savior, but they were not helped in any way, and could only make it all the way here.

A powerful being could not be toppled that easily, and the world would never turn around. Poldorof noted that he had seen too many instances of this, and while it was boring to say so, such was the truth of the world.

The Knights, declared by the most powerful entity of this world to be heretics, had no chances of winning. The potency of the fire herb and the flamethrower alone weren’t a match for the overwhelming numbers. There were countless heretics who had come and went, and the Knights might become one of them.

In that case, unless one had a martyrdom mentality, it was folly to agree to Alzen’s request to join the war. They should instead use the chance created by this turmoil to be free souls, and it was a logical choice.

Such might be a reason why Kusla was interested in the idea of flying.

Flying in the air was a symbol of freedom.

“If we keep trying stupidly, we might waste valuable materials and time.”

Kusla then continued,

“But we’ll discover something if we keep moving. More importantly, rumors had it that someone actually flew.”

Weyland too nodded slowly.

“Of all the magic alchemists aspire to see, flying in the air is one of the kind, huh~.”

“Then how do we go about doing that? Time’s not going to stop while we hesitate.”

One plausible idea was to request Irine to make an intricate metallic funnel, and try to keep the fire herb dripping into the flames to maintain a powerful flame. They could even ask her to make an urn-like vessel with a small opening to control the fire well.

The problem was that given the situation, it would not be easy to replenish the fire herb once it was finished. It was not impossible if they had the time, but the time in particular was a problem.

“Anyway, it’s foolish to worry about waking up in the morning and wondering which side of the bed to get off~.”

Weyland gave a self-deprecating smile, but this truly was the trick for an alchemist to avoid getting lost in wandering into a labyrinth of delusions.

“Let’s forget about using the fire herb for the time being. We have too many issues.”

“Of course. There are many other things in this world that burn~.”

They did not have wings to expand like wings, and so the next best method was to gather smoke and find a way to rise.

Perhaps the solution was to use anything combustible they could get their hands on.

“We won’t get the answer at the end of the easy path.”

Kusla sneered at the snappy Weyland, but he too agreed with the sentiment, for he felt that it would not be fun if he easily knew the answer.

“That’s really interesting, dammit~.”

Weyland slapped Kusla’s back as he guffawed away.

The two girls and Phil returned after assisting to remove the helmet from the knight, and they looked so gloomy, probably because they already understood in their own way how difficult this experiment would be. They were devastated that they could not find a solution, but once they returned to the workshop, the despair scattered.

“Hey, get ready.”

All the combustible belongings they had were laid onto the table.

It was obvious that both Kusla and Weyland were not downhearted.

“We’ll need to find something that can burn more than wax, something more stable than the fire herb.”

“Y-yes.”

Fenesis’s lips quivered a few times, and she looked exceptionally elated when answering him.

“I’ll contribute by labor then.”

Irine said as she picked up the paper roll and the glue.

“Something that burns more than wax?”

Phil was a merchant who specialized mainly with books, and his knowledge far surpassed the others.

Hm, so he groaned, and then he slapped his belly.

“I’ll source for anything combustible from the local merchants.”

“What about fat, rapeseed or distilled wine?”

Kusla started to fold his fingers, and Phil too folded his fingers mischievously.

“And peat. We do have some coal delivered here too.”

“What about asphalt? We have some, but in limited quantities.”

Irine, who rebuilt the flamethrowers, suggested so.

“Can we harvest them nearby?”

Kusla asked, and Phil shook his head gaudily.

“Haven’t heard of it, but…oh yes, we might be able to find something.”

“What do you mean?”

Kusla asked, and Phil tapped his temples, as though racking a catalogue in his mind.

“Ehh, I did see the records left behind by merchants who went to the desert, and there were depictions of an asphalt spring, that anyone approaching it might come across a stench that doesn’t belong to this world. There is a strange rainbow color on the surface, and disgusting bubbles oozing from the bottom of the spring…”

Kusla too read such a description in a book, and knew of such an existence. Why mention it now though?

While he felt skeptical, Phil widened his eyes.

“Yes. Those bubbles burn!”

“Bubbles?”

“The weight issue is thus resolved then, no? Maybe the Whites used that thing to fly.”

“Truly…if we can obtain bubbles that burn, we should be able to solve this…”

Kusla however groaned, for it was said that the spring of asphalt came from the desert region afar.

“If there really is a spring of asphalt, everyone would have known of it, no? Or is it that the hole was caused because the spring combusted. I can understand if that is the case.”

Asphalt was a particularly great fuel. Its value would be impossible to gauge if it was found here.

Kusla did not think it would be possible to discover asphalt without triggering issues. Asphalt in particular would emit a distinct black smoke when burning. If they were to use it in the settlement, surely the ruse would be seen through.

Phil too shook his head gloomily.

“Never heard of it…never found them in the places I visited.”

“I guess so.”

But Phil’s words reminded Kusla of something.

If it was combustible air, that truly could solve the issue of the weight.

And he had an inkling of an idea what that would be.

“Hm…and I thought I had a good idea…”

“So, it’s a good idea. I just thought of something that can be used.”

“Heh?”

Phil, Fenesis and Irine looked towards Kusla.

An alchemist had unlimited options to choose from.

“Isn’t there a lot of livestock at the plaza? Also, we do cut out their bellies when tanning leather..”

“…Are you intending to gather their souls so that you can fly?”

Phil joked, and Kusla said,

“I want you to gather lots of dung for burning, as much as possible.”

Phil stared at Kusla dumbfoundedly.

“That’ll be quite expensive, no?”

“Nope, it’s not particularly extravagant…I want to use them for burning.”

Since they were already well acquainted during their travels, he probably would not be shocked about such requests, but nevertheless, Phil looked incredulous.

“That is weaker than peat though…”

“It doesn’t matter. Gather as much as we can. Hey, you two help out too.”

The two girls got called out and pointed at by the chin, and they clearly reeled back and frowned. Were they fuming that he had commanded them with such an uppity attitude, or that they, the demure maidens, were ordered to do such things?

“If you aren’t willing to get down and dirty in a workshop, you can’t be an alchemist’s apprentice.”

“I’m a blacksmith!”

Irine protested, and Fenesis looked like an abandoned kitten.

“I-I am…”

She stammered, trying to find an excuse. Kusla stared at her right in the eyes. He did not want her to be devastated because of her cursed bloodline, but if it was such a reason, that was not so bad.

“An alchemist’s apprentice partner, no?”

“…”

Fenesis’ beast ears drooped weakly, and her mouth pouted in a triangular shape.

He recalled her showing a similar expression back then they first met, whenever she got bullied.

“Get moving. Alzen’s messenger might show up and drag us back while we’re still dithering.”

“Uu…Miss Irine…”

Fenesis sought a final solace by hoping Irine would accompany, but the latter gave a sleazy smile.

“Eh…yes, I have to make the paper bag. Ahaha…”

“Auuu…”

“You’re so accustomed to travelling. Making fires out of cow and horse dung isn’t anything out of the ordinary, right?”

Fenesis gave a look that implied that it was a different matter altogether. Nevertheless, Kusla could not understand how this girl could eat a skewer of fatty meat and yet faint at the sight of a pig being eviscerated.

She seemed to have resolved herself thereafter however.

“I…understand.”

“Hahaha, it’s fine. You might faint from the stench if it’s the summer. This much work is meagre compared to a miracle as displayed by the alchemist himself.”

Phil patted Fenesis on the shoulders, and the latter nodded dejectedly, seemingly convincing her. Once he saw her leave, Kusla said,

“She wants to be an alchemist with this little resolve?”

“You’re hopeless without me around huh? Good grief~.”

Weyland mischievously imitated Kusla’s voice, and he glared back with an icy look

However, he did not pursue the matter that was Weyland’s leer.

For a third of his issues were pointed out.

“But what are you going to do with it? I know dung is cheap and convenient, and also used for smelting. Mr Phil did say that it is weak in power, and heavy. Isn’t our issue now the weight~?”

“The asphalt spring.”

“Huh?”

Weyland did not seem like he understood, but he did not ask, for perhaps it would be unbecoming of him as an alchemist to ask without understanding.

“Anyway, the paper bag is burned. Irine──”

“I-I know.”

Irine sheepishly answered, for she probably was guilty about pushing the dirty work to Fenesis, and began to work on a new bag. Kusla did not expect her, who had been doing the heavy work, to have such nimble hands, faster than Fenesis. She truly was a girl born to be a blacksmith.

“Let’s look for something light and combustible with elegance.”

“Thank goodness I’m not an apprentice anymore~.”

Kusla merely shrugged at that joke by Weyland.

When it came to something light and combustible, the first thing one would think of was something that could be made as a firestarter, like the inflorescence of cattails, certain varieties of mushrooms, or seaweed that was dried thoroughly by wind. Each of them could be ignited with a spark caused by clashing stones, but their power remained insignificant, and there was difficulty in gathering lots of information.

Kusla and Weyland wrote down all the combustibles they knew of, and refuted them all after much discussion.

While alchemists and blacksmith had many opportunities to use high temperatures, these were usually controlled through arm strength. Obviously, one could generate high temperatures by pumping air through large bellows, but they were then more concerned about the capabilities of the bellows and the shape of the furnace, rather than what was the fuel used.

Alchemists were thus infamous for being heretics, but even they had yet to come across a powerful fuel that was light and would allow them to fly.

“Oil won’t work either~?”

“We’ll have to find a cauldron large enough to create a massive fire. I remember hearing that this wouldn’t work.”

“Hm…”

This would be a classic example of how difficult it was to find a balance, but the Whites clearly did, and flew in the air. Surely there was a way. As Phil said, the reason why people could not see God was because they did not know how he looked, and thus one could not prove that God did not exist.

“You already have an idea, haven’t you, Kusla~.”

“Just an inkling.”

“Hm…”

Weyland groaned as he stared at the stone tablet. He could not be sure that Kusla’s thought was correct, but he must be frustrated, for he had yet to understand what the latter was thinking.

After all, while it was commonplace and cheap to use animal dung as fuel, that lacked power, and could at most be used as a replacement for wood. It was heavy, and really unsuited to be used in this experiment involving the fire herb, all to get a paper bag floating.

After this moment of toil, some sounds could be heard outdoors, for Phil and Fenesis returned. Phil did not seem to mind, as he appeared to be used to crude labor, but Fenesis put down the heavy sack from her shoulder, and tumbled over. The knight escorting her from behind lifted a bag three times heavier than hers, probably out of kindness, and simply put it down.

“Is this enough?”

Phil asked as he patted his hands, and Fenesis too patted her hands once she heard this sound, sniffing at her clothes. She usually remembered that she was once a nun who thought of poverty as a virtue, and acted so in every way, yet she was strangely elegant this time around.

“Yes. And we need a large urn. Best case scenario, a metallic one. Do we have one in the basement?”

“I’ll have a look. An empty one?”

The knight went to the basement. That posture clearly indicated to leave the simple manual labor to him.

And on the other hand, Fenesis, who sat on the floor, finally stood up, while a grimacing Phil and an apologetic Irine consoled her after her toil. Fenesis gave Kusla a begrudging glare, probably to indicate that she was not needed to do this since Phil and the knight were around.

Naturally, Kusla ignored her.

“We happen to have something suitable.”

Soon after, the knight lifted a metal urn large enough to store Phil himself.

“There are some burn marks by the side huh…what’s its use? If it’s for wine, there should be a metallic taste.”

“It’s different from burning charcoal. It’s a vessel used to extract tar from wood.”

One would put wood in the center, some firewood around the urn, seal the urn with a lid, and steam it.

This steam process that eschewed burning could generate lots of useful liquid.

“Then pour all the dung in it…”

Kusla approached the bag, intending to pour the contents. The knight and Phil too gave assistance.

It seemed the bag contained cow and mule dung.

“Feels strangely relieving to smell this once in a while. Reminds me of my childhood when I would help on the farm.”

He glanced aside at the girls who were stifling their noses with handkerchiefs or the like, and simply poured the dung into the urn.

“We use it during war too. It’s calming to smell this.”

The knight chimed in.

“Through the battle horses or the transporting ones?”

“Right. That’s why it smells like we returned to the battlefield.”

The stubbornly silent, yet straightforward knight smiled. Certainly, one could say that unraveling the legendary angel’s technology was akin to an intellectual battle against the Whites.

While talking, the urn was half filled.

Irine and Fenesis watched from afar, their faces clearly showing an incredulous look, that though alchemists were often doing the ridiculous, it was more so this time. Perhaps they were pretending to be pure girls who would abstain from filth, and it was the barbaric knight who was very enthused.

“And over there too…ah, yes, yes..”

“Clay?”

Weyland tilted his head, pondering. Clay was a necessity for a charcoal hut, to insulate the air within. Kusla sealed the urn with the clay.

“Right, this should do it. Next, the bag.”

“Don’t we have a few over there?”

Irine pointed at the bags used to ferry the dung.

“No, I want those that won’t let water through. Mr Phil, can you please head down to the tanning area?”

“Of course, but what are we looking for?”

Kusla cackled.

“Organs.”

Truly, the combination of a dung filled urn and organs was an increasingly strange one befitting an alchemist, but Kusla did not want something that unnerving.

“I want a bladder, the bigger the better.”

“Hm? You wish to make a raft? Or something to replace a paper bag?”

“Neither. It’s more like a bellow.”

This explanation left everyone all the more nonplussed.

Once Kusla experienced this moment of superiority, he showed a wry smile.

“You don’t have to think too hard about it. If we fail, I’ll lose standing, right?”

He did not expect everyone to stare blankly at him, and he was slightly intimidated by this unexpected response. The first to chuckle was Irine.

“You’re not wrong, but──”

Irine continued as she looked towards Fenesis,

“We’re obviously going to wonder what craziness you’ll come up with this time, right?”

Fenesis nodded towards Irine, and then nodded at Kusla a few more times.

“Now isn’t the time to be impressed, no?”

Kusla gave Fenesis a harsh look, and she reeled her neck in, as though someone had poured icy water upon her back.

In any case, nothing good usually came out of things when people assumed it to be exactly like magic. Over the long term, people would be more eager to seeing miracles, and then he would be deemed as suspicious, and had eyes rolled at him, and in dire situations, would be persecuted.

Nevertheless, it was the wish of an alchemist to do the unexpected, and to fulfill outcomes that were never dreamt of.

In that sense, perhaps it was a decent attempt from him.

“Hmph.”

Kusla snorted, looked down at the urn sealed by clay, and said,

“All that’s left is to pray that it ripens with the magic.”

This little bit of pretense was sufficient for an alchemist’s dignity, after having been befuddled by the Whites.

They put the sealed urn at a place where the heat could be felt, and let it be.

One of the escorting knights went outside to keep watch, while the other two stared at it, as though worried that a demon would rise out of it. They probably were being so cautious because it was the first time they had witnessed an alchemist’s work. . In any case, Kusla’s burden was relieved somewhat since someone else was watching. He told them that if it got too hot, they were to move away from the urn, and went to rest for the time being.

He actually wanted to think about other potential methods, but the only thing that came up was a yawn. His eyes felt numb deep inside, or in other words, sleepiness.

After he was poisoned at Abbas, he went through lots of turmoil before arriving here, and he willed himself through, accumulating much fatigue on his journey here. It so happened to be noon, the time which he would be most tempted to sleep. Weyland was no better as he buried his head into his arms dejectedly, brooding. Given how he remained still, perhaps he too had fallen asleep.

Irine and Fenesis had been working on a large paper bag together, sometimes sniveling, sometimes looking towards the furnace with skeptical looks. The urn was sealed with a lid, but there was some leaking stench. They probably had enough of the stench, for once the bag was done, they went out of the hut together.

Perhaps the girls had some private words to say. Fenesis looked spirited, but she might have lots of thoughts, for this land was once ravaged by the Whites, and the legendary ‘curse’ had tormented her so many times. It was at such moments when Irine would surely be able to keep her company.

While thinking about this, Kusla then realized a sense of nostalgia, the memory of working alone in the workshop, living only for himself.

It seemed drastic change came to humans easily.

One would hope it was for the better however. How did it seem at this point?

He searched his memories, and felt that it was interesting at least. He could not believe that he could argue about trivial stuff with others, but he hoped to at least continue the peaceful times.

Thus, he was most worried about getting involved in the war due to Alzen and the Knights.

Since they had discovered the technology used by the Whites, Alzen would surely involve them in the war, even if they were unwilling.

“This too is a curse.”

Kusla grumbled, and suddenly thought of a possibility, that the Whites never actually resided on any land, but were persecuted the entire tim? Their pursuers might have been local rulers who wanted that technology, or fundamentalists who blinding believed in miracles. Thus, Kusla was reminded of the time when he first met Fenesis.

She was a White, a cursed person, and those who involved themselves with her were deemed heretics. She was treated as how others deemed fit, and shunned like the plague.

It was partly because of the notion that those would involve themselves with heretics would become heretics themselves, but would the same not apply involving technology? If those involved with the Whites learned their technology, would they not suffer much hardship too? Would the Whites too feel guilty about it…

Of course, it was all hypothesis, but one could find it a plausible explanation for all the legends involving them.

In other words, the reason why they remained an enigma was because they intended to hide their whereabouts, and thus the need to fly.

“Then what’s with the explosion?”

Kusla muttered, and the knight glanced up at him, but he remained immersed in his own thoughts.

The likeliest reason was that it was a misdirection, that once the town was in great panic, they would escape to the skies, and thus nobody could track them.

The issue was that, was the damage too great to be a misdirection?

Would they not adjust the firepower and still proceed so? After all, if they wanted to destroy the town just to misdirect, why did they not do so completely? There would be no legend thereafter.

Nevertheless, the guess remained reasonable. They could have used the fire herb to traumatize their pursuers, to erase any further thought to give chase, before escaping through the skies.

It was plausible..

This would thus explain why the people who rebuilt Abbas tried to obtain the power of the Whites. There was a possibility that they were not innocents who were suddenly wiped out, but that revenge was enacted upon them before they coveted the Whites’ technology. Those writing history would twist the facts to their own benefits, and omit the reason why the Whites destroyed the town, acting as though they had destroyed it in the spur of the moment.

All parties cared only for themselves, and this was a classic example of how this scoundrel world worked.

But if this deduction was correct…and he pondered further, would they not have met the same fate for being heavily involved in the legend of the Whites?

Similar signs had appeared. The spies who were astounded by the amazing technology of the Whites at Abbas nearly murdered them. Even Kusla could not remain calm after seeing the ending the Whites wrote for this land.

He bit his nails in a frenzy, and started to feel uneasy. Perhaps they were being too defenseless. One would wonder if that Cyrus was truly helping them.

And then, Kusla lifted his head. The two girls had not returned in a while. Even if they were chatting by the hut or visiting the settlement, did they not have a knight accompanying them?

He felt that he worried too much, but he had learned a lesson the hard way recently that if it happened, it was too late.

Right when he was about to stand up from the chair, it happened.

Screams could be heard outside.

He reached for the dagger at his waist before he could ponder, and barged outdoors.

“What happened!?”

The fear and rage he experienced when Fenesis was abducted by the spies ran through his blood.

And then, someone tapped his head.

“Ugh!”

He instinctively turned his head around, but the sight left him unable to comprehend momentarily.

He exchanged looks with the other party, but perhaps it was because he could not comprehend what happened, for he could not recognize her.

Fenesis, who met him in the eyes, was holding a snowball in her reddened hands, stood still as she looked as though she was going to throw it over.

“You…woah?”

The moment he spoke up, he got hit in the face.

“Ahahaha, not bad, Mr knight!! Even an alchemist is powerless!”

Irine burst out laughing. Next to her was the knight who should be keeping watch, and he clearly looked apologetic.

“Come on, come on, don’t hold back. You too, little Ul!”

Irine turned towards him as though she was venting her usual gloom.

“Hey, you lot!”

And Irine ignored Kusla’s growls as she threw the snowball. While he guarded himself, another snowball pelted towards him. It did not hit him, instead at his feet, but in a certain sense, it was more shocking than the one that hit his head.

The one who threw that snowball was Fenesis

“…What are you laughing at!?”

Kusla finally eked these words at Fenesis, who clearly was intimidated, but she crouched down, pinched another snowball, grinned away, and clumsily threw another.

It was an earnest smile from her, and she was so happy that the snowball did not fly straight.

“Yeah, like that!”

Irine cheered her on, and continued to pelt snowballs at him. She, with quite the impressive arm strength, threw at him with more fury. The two girls looked really happy, but rising up in Kusla’s mind was fury.

To think he was deep in thought, and worried about them.

Thinking that he had no time to bother with them, Kusla was about to retreat to the house──

“Guah!”

Someone suddenly dumped lots of snow onto his back, and he turned around in shock as it was too sudden, tumbling onto the snow.

He looked up, and saw Weyland sneering away, having succeeded with his mischief.

“You people had lots of fun~~~~!”

He got down on all four, gathered as much snow as he could with both hands, and swung the snowballs he made with the strong arms honed from hammering iron.

“M-Mr Weyland, that is unfair──kyaaah!”

Irine was unable to escape in time, and was hit in the face by a snowball bigger than her face, causing her to fall face up like a frog.

“Nfufufu.”

A gleeful Weyland licked his lips, and noticed the two dumbfounded guards at the door.

“We’re going to shut them up good. Help us out!”

Is he for real? The two knights exchanged looks, and finally understood that he was when he yelled at them, charging forth while throwing more snowballs.

They were astounded by how independent the alchemists would act, but they saw the other knight lift Irine up, Weyland’s snowball hitting them, and Fenesis laughed out loud. They then decided to dispense with the pleasantries.

Those who knew how to enjoy it were the winners, and they rolled up their sleeves.

“We’re not going to hold back if it’s a contest now!”

They started making snowballs with the arms large enough to wrap around Fenesis’ head. On the other hand, Irine and the other knight regrouped with Fenesis, received the snowballs she made, and counterattacked at Weyland.

“Damn…those imbeciles…”

The daftness of those fellows had Kusla feeling incensed. I’m the one thinking so hard. What are the lot of you doing?

After all, if they had the time to do this, why could they not use it for experimenting? They could have also searched for the people who remained even after the destruction of the town, and reinvestigate rumors of the angel’s legend. They had lots of things to do, and time was limited.

He gave a frown of disdain, and in the meantime, Irine and Fenesis scurried around, cupping their heads, as they avoided the snowballs Weyland threw. Right on cue, the clumsy Fenesis fell over, and she landed face first into the snow.

He had an urge to move over and help her, but Irine burst out laughing while still shocked, and Weyland continued to pelt snowballs at Fenesis. She, who had tumbled onto the snow, rolled and wriggled about, laughing. She squealed away while being hit by those snowballs.

She was a serious, prim and proper, innocent quiet girl who would not put on a facade of toughness if nobody teased or made fun of her.

Or so he thought, but at this point, she was rolling on the snow, her mouth agape as she laughed.

Kusla was strangely astounded when he realized that she had such a smile too.

She finally got up, and though her pretty hair was in a mess, her eyes remained dazzling, and she bit her lips to stifle a laugh. She pinched a snowball, and threw at Weyland. Upon seeing that, Kusla felt extremely restless.

She actually showed such an expression to someone other than himself.

Fenesis’ snowball landed before it reached Weyland, but the latter was bemused as he made an exaggerated evasion. He could have evaded the snowball from Irine, but he deliberately let himself be hit, and the girls burst out laughing in joy once they saw that. The knights made bigger snowballs, and threw them over, laughing away once they saw Irine and Fenesis squeal and scamper away.

Kusla could only witness this scene, rooted, not knowing what he should do. Logically, he should reproach them, and shoo them back into experimenting, but he could not, for one reason was that he found it too shameful to admit so.

But while he was immobilized by the conflict between his sanity and emotions──

A short squeal was accompanied with panting, and someone barged into his back.

“Haa…haa…hyaah!”

“Ohhhh, little Ul, that is unfair~.”

“I-I am not!”

The panting Fenesis used Kusla as a shield, and leaned onto his back. Before Kusla was the pursuing Weyland, holding a sturdy looking snowball.

“Oh well, I’ll have to settle the score with Kusla one day.”

“H-hey!”

“Prepare yourself. I’ll prepare a really large one for you!”

Weyland said, got down on the ground, and gathered snow again. Kusla in turn remained still, the conflict between his sanity and emotions unresolved, and he froze like a weasel that was suddenly released into the wild.

“Say, you──”

He turned back to look at Fenesis, for he did not know what else to do. If she, who had clumsily escaped towards him, saw his displeasure, she would understand that she made the wrong decision to come over.

She would most likely widen her eyes in shock, and look forlorn. She might feel disappointed in him for being stubborn and too serious, but that little resolve was needed if he wanted to shield her from harm or suffering.

But the moment he looked behind, it was he who was shocked, for there was a determined will in the green eyes looking up at him.

She did not come to him out of coincidence, just because she had too much fun.

Fenesis gave him a gentle smile, while he remained dumbfounded. Her cheeks were red as she had run around, and her bangs, drenched in sweat and snow, were exceptionally glittering. The confident look in her eyes showed one thing──

Fenesis wanted to invite him.

“Please help me.”

She said with a smile.

“Are you not my partner?”

She gave a gaudy smile filled with some mischief, and her soft cheeks puffed. Before he knew it, Kusla found himself smiling gaudily. After all, what else could he do?

The smiling face lifted up at him looked a little more gleeful.

Damn, so Kusla thought.

What he really wanted was not a future stable life in a workshop.

What he really wanted was this smile before him.

“Gather the snow.”

He rolled his sleeves.

“Time to fight back.”

“Yes!”

Fenesis pricked her ears, and loudly answered.

“Achoo!”

As he wiped the wet hair beneath him, he heard a sneeze beneath his handkerchief that sounded like a frog. There was enough firewood burning in the furnace to smelt iron, and huddled before it was Fenesis.

“You had way too much fun.”

He chided coldly, and she, who would usually shrivel, did not react. She was under the handkerchief, but she turned her body towards him, smiling without a care in the world. Her lips were purple, and she resembled an evil witch in those fairy tales.

“I am happy.”

Usually, whenever she said so, it was just to hide how dejected she was, but she probably was not lying when she said so.

Kusla covered her face with the handkerchief.

“Same here.”

In hindsight, he was a fool to worry about everything and be all depressed. Thinking seriously about things was different from overthinking it, but he was relieved to know that she did not seem to be devastated by the Whites.

She, under his handkerchief, giggled away, and sneezed once again.

“Ahh～we had fun~.”

Entering the charcoal hut half naked was Weyland, whose clothes were all soaked, and he had to strain them outdoors, but he looked no different from usual. Irine too looked no different, and it seemed the difference of actually doing physical labor showed at this point.

“We’re done with the ropes. Let us hang the wet clothes.”

A knight poked his head in from the next door, indicating so. There was no furnace in the neighboring room, just stone stoves set up everywhere. The knights created flames in there, and a rope was hung up there, acting as a place to dry their clothes.

“Please do~.”

“Reminds me of the menial tasks I was ordered to do during my training.”

Even Kusla was bemused by these words. Everyone had grown younger in that short moment.

And the one who dragged him in while he hesitated over his participation was a girl who was about to grow into an adult. He realized that perhaps he was not as matured as he assumed.

It seemed like a pity, yet also a form of solace, a tickle at a frostbitten place. He sighed, and ruffled Fenesis’ hair with the handkerchief.

“Oh yes, Kusla, how long do we have to put it~?”

Weyland said as he tapped at the iron urn.

“Our noses aren’t as sensitive to the smell now, but I think that’s how it smells like at the stables.”

While they had their snowball fight, the urn filled with cow and mule dung might have been heated completely, and the contents might have ripened.

“Worried about elegance at this point?”

Kusla retorted, and sensed Fenesis turning around beneath his hands. She probably started to sniff at her smell uneasily.

“Well, I suppose it’s about time.”

Perhaps he had rid himself of his worries after the snowball fight, for he was filled with vigor. The pure joy of attempting to discover a new technology made his body all light and fluffy.

He moved his hands away from Fenesis. The tools on the long table had remained untouched ever since the preparation of the experiment. He chose a few items, namely the paper bag Irine made, the iron rods used for distillation, a candle stand with a candle flame on, some clay, and the bladder of a deer-like animal Phil obtained while they had fun.

“Hmm…I didn’t expect this though…”

Weyland groaned as he stared at the items in Kusla’s hands. Fenesis tilted her head in confusion, not understanding what Kusla was planning.

“These should be enough. Move the urn outdoors.”

“Us?”

The knights were either drying clothes or helping Phil prepare lunch for the playful group. Weyland looked unwilling, but he deftly moved it out.

He, who did not know what would happen next, was actually looking forward to it.

“So, what do we do next?”

Weyland put the large urn on the snow, where the carnage of their battle remained.

Irine, who exited the hut a tad later, “Cold!” shivered as she yelled,

“First, this bladder…Irine!”

“What?”

“Sew up one of these ends. Make sure air won’t escape.”

“Huh～? I’m not your menial servant.”

“This fellow here might end up poking a few more holes.”

Kusla pointed at Fenesis, who looked aggrieved, but had no intentions to snatch the bladder away. She probably assumed that she could not do it either.

“Guess I don’t have a choice.”

“Just one end.”

“Like a bag for wine?”

“Yes.”

An animal’s stomach or bladder could be made as a highly waterproof bag. The bladder in particular was extremely elastic, and its size would depend on the animal itself. Extremely large ones could be used as floating bags when crossing rivers.

It was the perfect item for an experiment to fly in the sky.

“Wait a moment.”

Irine turned to leave, and Kusla began to prepare. He took a rod, stabbed at the clay sealing the urn, and once he was sure that it went in, he sealed the tip of the rod with clay. He then brought the flickering flame of the candle to the tip.

And then, he pried away the clay sealing the hole. At that moment──

“Ah!”

Fenesis exclaimed.

The air emitting from the rod was ignited.

“…Didn’t think this was possible~.”

Weyland narrowed his eyes, looking upset.

“I remembered after hearing about the asphalt spring, and it so happened to be a coincidence that I knew about it. I once dumped some cow dung into the furnace, and the smell of the remaining excess was too foul, I got a few urns, dumped them in, covered them with lids, and forgot about it. It was days later when I took a candle, seeking the foul stench in the workshop, and then, boom!”

Kusla opened his arms wave, and Fenesis reeled back in shock, as though a fireball was emitted from his hands.

“There’s a wise saying to clean up anything we use, but this discovery happened because I didn’t abide so.”

“So, it ignited because there was a combustible gas coming from the dung that was to be used as fuel?”

“It’s not powerful, but it’s as light as air, right?”

Weyland shrugged.

Irine then returned with the stitched bladder.

“Right, done. Mind showing what’s the magic this time?”

“Just watch.”

Kusla received the bladder, and blew into it to ensure that the air would not escape.

It seemed fine, so he squeezed out the air, pried aside the clay sealing the rod, and stuck the bladder onto it. It slowly expanded, and was filled with a combustible gas that was in the urn.

After it expanded a while, Kusla gave Fenesis a look, wanting her to come over

“Once I move the bladder, seal the opening.”

He removed the bladder, and saw her seal the rod attentively, as though she was covering a wound. Perhaps she just did not wish to smell it.

With the expanded bladder in one hand, Kusla held the paper bag in the other, and sealed their openings.

“Let’s see if it works then.”

Once the air in the bladder entered the paper bag, he sealed the paper, put the bladder aside, and took the candle.

All eyes were gathered on Kusla, including the knights watching from slightly afar.

“This is the moment of truth.”

Kusla cautiously opened the paper bag, and put the candle flame near it.

And a blink later, he realized it was a grave mistake.

Act 3

Lunch was venison soup prepared by Phil, and as expected of a guild member which dealt with spices, there was a lavish addition of pepper in the soup, which warmed their bodies, and even formed sweat on their faces.

Kusla sipped at it, and with his fingers, wiped the sweat off his forehead.

He then grabbed his shortened front hair, stared blankly, and sighed,

“Good thing this is all the damage~.”

Weyland noted. Next to him, Irine put the skewer of hare meat into the furnace, unable to contain a smile even though she was told not to.

“I thought my heart would stop.”

“…Are you really fine?”

Fenesis’s concern left Kusla all the more deflated.

That confident challenge of his was met with a splendid failure.

“I thought something happened.”

Phil was done with his bowl, and downed a second bowl as he said,

“There was a fireball in the sky when I returned from buying ingredients for lunch. I thought the Whites had returned.”

His description was no hyperbole.

Kusla assumed that by filling the bag with foul air and igniting it, it would burn from the bottom, and the bag would gently float. It would ultimately burn to a crisp and fall, but he assumed it was merely a matter of adjusting the fuel output, and it should be easier to control compared to the fire herb.

However, it burned in the most unexpected manner.

“…The anxiety left me completely careless. I should have started small with every new experiment. It is the basic fundamental…”

So he muttered to himself, and sighed once again. After having fought the first snowball fight of his life, he was in such ecstasy, he assumed he was drunk, and the world looked so bright. He even assumed that he was invincible, that he could see beyond the distance.

In other words, the overwhelming joy got him carried away.

“Never thought it would burn completely~.”

“That’s pretty in its own way though.”

Irine removed the finely roasted skewer, and shared the meat with everyone as she noted so.

“Luckily, nobody was hurt.”

Phil was completely correct.

“But I didn’t expect there to be other gases that can combust aside from the rumored asphalt.”

“There are others?”

“We might be able to find some if we look…”

Kusla muttered so, and closed his eyes. He recalled the moment when the fire was lit, his back froze, and he knew immediately that he messed up.

The fire did not exude from the paper bag immediately as he expected, and on the contrary, the fire was absorbed into the bag like a waterfall, quickly expanded, and burst the paper bag in an explosion. It happened in the blink of an eye, but the scene back then was completely etched in their minds.

It had been years since he suffered such a catastrophic failure

“Hmm…but I do think there’s value in trying so~.”

Weyland stirred the bowl in the soup.

“In any case, we just need to put that combustible gas under the paper bag or something else light, and slowly ignite it?”

“Of course. It does feel like this is easier to control compared to the fire herb. Most importantly, the ingredients aren’t a problem.”

“Of course. There’s always cattle and horses and other livestock.”

Phil chimed in, and Irine nodded proudly, only to reel her chin in with a gaudy look.

“Just one request, please try it outside instead.”

The alchemists would deal with sulfur, and occasionally create rotten food, so they never fretted about the stench of feces, for it was commonly used in tanning or smelting. The stimulation might be too great to the upstanding citizen Irine who had no involvement with farming and livestock after all.

Weyland did not tease further, and merely shrugged.

“I’m with little Irine. What do you intend to do, Kusla~?”

“It is easier to extinguish the fire outdoors even if your front hair gets burned, you know?”

Fenesis teased. She showed no fear despite the fact that a colossal failure of an experiment happened before her, and she looked happy instead.

Kusla was different however. He gritted his teeth, and after a while, he said dejectedly,

“I…need to cool my head a little. You may continue with the experiment.”

“Eh?”

Fenesis looked completely taken aback.

“You are lucky that the front hair is the only part burned off.”

Fenesis, Weyland and Irine were all stupefied, while the genial Phil looked sympathetic, nodding away as though saying, you were in danger just now, better rest.

“I’ll investigate the sulfuric acid and the acidic salt. That’s important too, since they’re from the same source as the fire herb.”

It sounded like an excuse, which it was. Kusla raised his bowl and drank the soup, hiding his expression.

“Hmmm~”

Weyland narrowed his eyes, as though trying to unravel the true thoughts hidden beyond the bowl, but he did not pursue the matter further.

“In that case, let’s go outside~.”

“We’re willing to help too.”

The escorts standing guard at the corners proudly offered themselves, clearly asking to leave the matter to them.

They probably meant that their responsibility was to work hard.

“That’s really a great help. I won’t be bored then~.”

Weyland prompted, resulting in ripples of laughter. Two people however did not; one was naturally Kusla, and the other was Fenesis.

“Let’s get cracking then!”

“Eh? Now?”

The escorting knights hollered in shock. They had trudged their way through the snow for four days, had departed early in the morning, and just had quite the snowball fight. They assumed that they could rest for a little while after their late lunch.

Weyland stood up, tied his belt again, and grinned.

“You know what will happen if you say that during your Knights’ training~?”

The muscular escort looked as though he just got slapped.

“We’re too lax.”

“So please~.”

Once Weyland said so, the other knights valiantly downed the remaining soup, as befitting their appearances, cleaned the bowls, cleared everything, and followed Weyland.

“I’ll hurry and make the paper bags then, even though I prefer to hammer iron.”

“I’ll help too. I may look this way, but I’m very skilled at delicate crafts.”

“Mr Phil, you can make books too?”

“My master always berated me for being too clumsy, but practice makes perfect.”

The ideal craftsman Irine nodded happily.

Once they finished their meals, they dispersed and went about with their work. Kusla however continued to take his time, and the failure of the experiment rendered him unmotivated in finishing his food quickly to get to work.

Time was not unlimited however.

Kusla downed the soup completely as though he was swallowing his own sigh, and put it aside.

Then, he responded to the stare directed at him.

“What?”

“…”

Fenesis heard Kusla speak, and lowered her head in shock, not answering at all, and merely fiddled at the already emptied bowl. She was the only other person who did not laugh when Weyland joked.

She probably was very interested in the flying experiment, and wanted to participate in it. Thus, she was so shocked when Kusla said he would stay at the workshop and do another experiment.

“You don’t have to accompany me.”

He was the only one who needed to calm down.

“Eh?”

“You want to experiment outside, yes?”

Kusla’s tone was a little terse, and he sensed that the reason why she remained was that she was worried that he might throw a tantrum if he was left alone.

Truly, he felt peeved at the idea of Irine, Phil and the knights gathered around Weyland, happily experimenting, but it was some fine medicine for him, who in his folly made a grave mistake.

He slowly got to his feet, turned around, and intended to head down to the baseball where the other experiment tools borrowed from the Poldorofs were at, only to hear a frantic voice behind him.

“I-I am not!”

If he instead asked her why it was so, he probably would receive an answer he would have hated to hear, that she could not leave him alone, or the like.

Already, he understood since their journey from Abbas that she loved to care for others, more so than she thought, and though it could be interpreted as a form of martyrdom, it was akin to possessiveness, or dominion, or in other words, coaxing a child.

Back then, Kusla understood for the first time that this was her mood whenever she was livid about being treated as a child.

“Hmph.”

He shrugged, hurried down the basement, and though there was no portable lighting, the torches on the ground floor were lit, and it was sufficient.

Snow remained on the baggage the escorting knights had brought, so the knots too were frozen. He pondered about cutting the ropes with his dagger, but on a second thought, the place was unlike the bustling Southern cities, and they might not be able to find sturdy ropes if they were to depart again. He decided to dispense with some effort, and get a fire torch to melt it. He turned towards the stairs, and nearly stumbled.

Fenesis stood at the middle of the stairs, looking at him with an anguished look as though she was part of an apparition tale.

“…I thought you’re a ghost.”

Fenesis’ skin was particularly white, and so was her hair, so she appeared to be brimming with light in this darkness. He made a rare joke, yet she betrayed nary a smile, and really appeared to be a ghost.

“What do you want?”

His voice was filled with spite, and Fenesis reeled back, dispelling the doubt that she was a ghost. Who would have known that she would appear like one.

“Keep it short. Or are you unable to say anything because you’re stunned by my stupid failure?”

Such an appraisal certainly was appropriate, and he intended to bear the pain, but he sensed something was amiss. Fenesis’ attitude had suddenly changed when Weyland suggested to continue experimenting with the combustible gas, instead of the fire herb, only for Kusla to reject it. Her mood was upbeat even when the experiment failed.

It was often said that the feelings of girls were very complicated, and Kusla did not understand what exactly she was thinking. By this logic, he would never understand what the Whites were thinking when they destroyed the town. While he lamented so─

“It is not so, but…it is similar.”

Kusla widened his eyes at her, and though her face remained tragic, she showed no skittishness even as their eyes met.

He gently sighed, and turned to face her.

“Similar?”

“…Yes.”

He pondered a little while, but could not associate the words together.

So he let out a deep sigh, and grabbed his hair.

“Understood, I’ll hear your piece, but before that, go get a wooden stick lit with a fire in the furnace. Got to melt the frozen knots and undo the ropes.”

“…”

She stared at him unflinchingly, and once she affirmed that he was not trying to brush her off, she nodded, went up the stairs, and soon returned.

Her face, as shown by the touch, appeared to be in deep thought, and when she handed it over to him, her expression seemed firmer than the frozen ropes, filled with many emotions.

“So? What do you mean, similar?”

Kusla asked as he continued with his task, for that would probably get her to talk, but unexpectedly, he did not get a response. He glanced aside, and saw her looking away, side eyeing him.

“…You’re not angry, are you?”

You need to ask at this point? Kusla was incensed and yet bemused, and finally kept his calm.

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“Th-that.”

“I’m not trying to befuddle you. It’s like smelting, nobody knows the result without tossing it into the fire. We won’t know what’s good and what’s bad. I thought we’ve been through this countless times already.”

It was a mentality an alchemist should have, but it should not simply be limited to alchemy alone.

Fenesis first lowered her head unbearably, exhaled hard as though there was an object stuck in her throat, and lifted her head.

“Y-you have been acting a little strange…ever since we got here.”

What then followed were words Kusla never thought of.

“Strange? Not that I’m horrible, or mean spirited?”

Kusla was somewhat self aware of that, but Fenesis bit her lips, trying her best to contain the wry smile appearing on her lips.

“No.”

She said it so confidently, but Kusla still did not understand. The frozen ropes thawed out, and he handed the torch to her.

“Hold this.”

The expression she gave was one who had something important to say, but the moment Kusla reached his hand further, she received it unwillingly. He then got down to undoing the knots, and asked her,

“What do you mean, weird?”

He held the ropes in his hands, and racked through his memories, but he remained mystified. So he wondered, what did he do for others to be mystified? Suddenly, Fenesis latched onto his arm, and he turned to her skeptically, only to be shocked by her teary face. If they were at the bottom of a cave, and not at a basement, her implication was that if they did not turn back, they would have no way of arriving at the surface.

But the place was merely an ordinary basement. Irine and Phil were working above them, Weyland and the knights were outdoors, handling a flying experiment that would have shocked the others.

Kusla nearly betrayed a smirk because of this, but naturally, he did not.

For Fenesis was that serious.

“Are you…”

So she spoke.

“Are you terrified of the angel’s legend?”

He once heard that when a person was completely focused on something, he would be completely oblivious to everything else, even if his arm was severed. He stared at her, ostensibly forgetting to breathe, and thought that it was true.

Was he terrified of the angel’s legend?

For just a moment, he wanted to sneer, wondering how it was possible, but that sneer froze on his face, for he vividly remembered the feeling when he stood at the edge of the massive hole left behind at the town the Whites destroyed.

“Why…do you…think so…”

He did not think he could say it was impossible. He faltered in the face of the blasted ruins of the town when he saw that temple. He recognized how dire was the act of the angels, and his belief that technology knew neither friend nor foe was under test.

But then, he thought.

He did not turn tail and run even when faced with this fear.

“No, not at all.”

“B-but, you have been acting weird ever since you stood by that large hole. It feels like you were hiding something, being pretentious.”

Kusla was gobsmacked, for it was as she said.

“And coupled with the failure from before…i-it is the first time I have seen you this erratic.”

Fenesis glanced up while looking down, and said,

“So I was wondering if you are really terrified…and…if you are forcing yourself to continue with research…”

If she had intended to tease him and tease him for being a coward, Kusla was confident that he could refute so.

But Fenesis looked so anguished.

And the reason being──

“If you are forcing yourself because of me, I──”

She was someone who would have such thoughts.

“You think I value you that much?”

Kusla hugged Fenesis to shut her up.

“You’re right, damn it.”

He locked onto her arms with more strength, and heard a cute squeal of pain.

“But I’m not backing down just because I’m scared of investigating the angle’s legend. When I ignited the foul gas and suffered failure, the first thing I thought of was your face. I must have looked pale back then, right? I finally managed to get you away from the spies, and yet I nearly doomed you because of my own failure.”

Kusla was in no mood to disguise his thoughts, and merely wanted to convey his feelings to Fenesis.

And it was for that reason that he could clearly narrate the moment the experiment failed.

“And also, I finally understand…that I’ve been acting tough, and putting on a facade.”

He sighed.

“It’s because of you too, damn it. You were so devastated when you heard that the Whites left scars here, that the land’s cursed. So, what about it? Are you still worried that I’m hiding my insecurities about the legend of the Whites?”

“Ah…ehh…”

Fenesis was left speechless, looked up at Kusla, and lowered her vision once again.

Finally, she nodded apologetically.

“But──”

“But what?”

She lifted her head while still in his clutches, and he put his mouth to her forehead, saying,

“You think I’ll become a weak, gentle man after three days of sleep?”

It did not matter that Fenesis’ worries were all for naught, the issue was how she viewed him.

But she, who was told in no uncertain terms, did not back then.

Instead, she pouted and glared back at Kusla.

“I am the same too.”

“Ah?”

“I shall not whimper because of these things again! I assumed…I assumed that you would have known…”

And once she said so, that usually whimpering girl returned.

But when he heard so, he remembered that when he went to save her, she laid an ambush with Irine, and swung an iron urn, knowing it was reckless, but she tried her best to escape.

Such recklessness was a stark contrast to the adorable little girl who never tried to resist even when she was taken as a cursed tool by the knights.

And just as her viewpoint had changed completely, so too did her demeanor.

“Really? But, there is something I have to be clear about.”

He grabbed her shoulders, and pried her away from him.

The harsh treatment had Fenesis looking as though she was about to be hanged, but she did not avert her eyes.

“What the Whites did was really so grand that it shocked me. Despite that, it proves that they’re a suitable opponent.”

And thus, there was one more task for Kusla to do.

“The legend of the Whites is almost within grasp, and we got no choice but to get it. Once we unravel the mystery, we’ll get the technology that only exists in our dreams. Maybe we’ll get trails on their whereabouts. We’ll be able to undo the curse on this land, the curse you forced yourself to say that you aren’t worried about.”

She, the recipient of this snide remark, wanted to refute, but could not say so.

She might feel that though they appeared to be disputing they were doing so for concern of each other, and could not bring themselves to be angry.

“That’s why I won’t give up, and I won’t be terrified. I’m not joining Weyland in his experiment not because I’m scared, but that I don’t want to fail again. I just need to calm down.”

So he affirmed, and chimed disingenuously,

“Of course…maybe my face did pale because of the failure just now, since I haven’t failed in a long time. Also, I might have been too relaxed from the joy of the snowball fight…”

It sounded like an excuse, and Fenesis too showed a clumsy smile,

But there was another reason for that smile,

“It is great that you are happy…”

“Huh?”

So he asked, and her smile became all the brighter, which enlightened him,

“That pout just now was…”

“Miss Irine said to do so, because I discussed this matter with her.”

Back then, she and Irine went out together, and he assumed Irine did so to coax the easily distressed Fenesis, to hear her thoughts, but that did not seem to be the case.

“She said that you are eccentric yet simple-minded, that you will be motivated if we involve you in this fun.”

“…”

Kusla had a migraine once he realized how Irine viewed him, and Fenesis too was equally guilty for agreeing with this assessment.

The biggest issue however was that it was super effective.

“Damn it…it was effective, too effective. Like a child who cannot drink.”

Fenesis smiled for real this time, and Kusla gave her a disgusted look, only to look aside, sigh, and grab his hair.

“But this proves that just as I’m keeping an eye out for you, so too are you looking at me.”

Fenesis was no tree or rock that merely knew to observe, she was a girl who would have mood changes, and could think. Thus, his concern for her was viewed as pretentious, which resulted in another misunderstanding. It seemed the same matter could have unexpected interpretations.

It would cause trouble, and also joy, so Kusla shrugged.

“Well, that’s how it is. You can go out and help Weyland.”

Of course, he said that on purpose.

Fenesis puffed her cheeks, having seen through him, and answered,

“All the more reason as to why I cannot leave you be, for you might fail again.”

She certainly had arrogance in how she said so, but that response was what he wanted,

“Yeah, partner.”

Saying that, he slapped her shoulder, and she responded to him with much vigor.

They had no knowledge on the characteristics displayed by sulfuric acid and the acidic salt.

It was something discovered when they were searching for the fire herb and the elixir, and Kusla felt that there was hardly any mention of it in the books he read. Phil oted that he knew of sulfuric acid, but only because he had seen books of technology passed around in the desert region, so it probably was a book amongst the records of acids kept by the Knights, which only a high ranking alchemist could access.

Thus, it proved that the technology was buried under the shrouds of authority, and the idea that they could discover it on their own was really riveting, that they would obtain the true essence.

The technology was a way of conveying the truth to this world, and nobody could keep it hidden for long.

“But it does seem complicated if we just add water.”

They did various tries, for there was a possibility that it could suddenly ignite, yet their wariness could not restrain their curiosity for long.

This fluid was truly mystifying.

“Smoke rises when we add water. It feels unnerving…like a witch’s cauldron.”

Once they added water into sulfuric acid, it would effervescent like water added into boiling oil, smoke and heat up. And once this diluted sulfuric acid was added into an iron vessel that was presumed unreactive, bubbles would form, and the iron would melt. One would have to wonder as to why God gave it such a complicated characteristic.

Despite that, the phenomenon happening before them was neither magic nor a miracle, and it could be replicated by either Kusla or Fenesis. Once they realized this fact, they found it was such a fluid.

“Adding water to quicklime makes it so hot that it can cook eggs. Everything’s possible.”

The diluted sulfuric acid could melt iron, but it seemed that adding more water would render it unable to do so. The acidic salt too showed a similar trend.

Both substances, upon being touched, would end up scalding people. They thought of adding salt to sulfuric acid to recreate that characteristic displayed by the acidic salt, so they added sugar, but the results were astounding.

The refined white sugar charred black immediately.

“So, other than creating the fire elixir, what else can be it used for? Since God allowed for this thing to exist, it should be used for something more useful…”

“Charring the sugar is a very appropriate lesson in teaching others not to splurge.”

Kusla stared at Fenesis, but one could not tell from her expression if she was joking or serious.

“So nothing from the interesting knowledge you know from?”

While she did not read hordes of books like Kusla did, she did grow up in the desert region, and had traversed through many cities during her unfortunate escape. There were one or two instances when they discovered something new thanks to her inspiration.

Just as a completely new thing would be formed by adding other items, so too would two people who had never encountered each other before reach a completely unexpecte outcome.

But Fenesis looked annoyed.

“Please do not look up to me in this manner.”

“It’s because I know you’ll hate it. It’s interesting.”

She sighed, probably thinking that it was pointless to answer him so, and decided to focus on her task at hand. Kusla pondered for a short moment, moved the chair to the wall a little far from the bench, and sat down.

“What is the matter? Are you still feeling unwell?”

She immediately approached him with a worried look, and he shrugged.

“It’s pointless for me to force the issue, so let’s take a step back and look. Maybe I’ll have an inspiration if I look from afar.”

“Ah…”

“And I have to see how much my apprentice has improved.”

Urr, a voice came from her throat, for she probably knew very well that no matter how she tried to act tough, she could not withstand this heavy pressure. However, she seemed to have a different idea instead, so she got down to experiment just to show off.

In fact, Kusla was merely a little tired, and wanted to rest, so he decided to watch her from afar leisurely.

She twitched her slender waist before him, swaying left and right as she fiddled with the tools, investigating the various reactions. She would certainly make a cute squeal if he reached out for her buttocks, and jolted, and after another two, three times, her reaction would dull, before she rolled her eyes at him.

It was a similar situation to his smelting investigations, the metals he was familiar with would react in a manner that would leave him joyous and not weary.

Fenesis initially was worried that she would be teased, and was a little wary, but once the work proceeded successfully, she would slowly begin to focus on it, and soon after, she paid attention only to her hands, and seemed to have forgotten about him.

She prepared the metal pieces, acids of various concentrations, and affirmed the reactions of each set, one by one. She had undoubtedly passed this aspect, and in this example, even poured the dangerous fluid down a stick to avoid splattering so.

Kusla was increasingly intrigued as he watched her, as though he was witnessing a story he heard of come to life. Surely it was because if they continued to chase the angels, this would be the feeling he would have.

A clergyman praying in the middle of a Cathedral would certainly look dignified, but Kusla found a sacredness that was no inferior. After all, was there a more sacred challenge than to uncover a secret hidden in this world said to be created by God, on a long table in this cramped hut.

There were many technologies that changed the lives of Man, all born in such huts scattered all over the world, but the townsfolk surely would not believe so. They always believed these were things the kings and rulers had all known, and yet not permit their people to use.

Technology however was no magic however. In many instances, it was the result of an encounter between hard work and coincidence, but in the vast majority of situations, it was the result of simple repetitions. The most important aspect in particular was that anyone could recreate it. No matter how one would try to hide it, people would discover, for they were the fragments of the truth to this world.

Thus, even those stories of legendary or mythical metals left behind could be recreated by anyone if they were facts, even if the person doing so was this pipsqueak who had just debbled with alchemy.

In this sense, perhaps technology was a rare equalizer in this damned world.

“Phew…”

He recovered, for he heard a sweet sigh ring clearly at his ear.

It seemed he had accidentally fallen asleep while supervising her.

There were metal fragments and plates placed on the long narrow table, along with stone tablets with limestone words recorded on them. Even the reaction between limestone and acid was recorded down.

She stood before the long table spaced out, looking around, wondering if there was anything else she could do. Once she had a look around, she seemed to understand that there was none, and her shoulders were lowered dejectedly.

Kusla smiled mischievously.

Given that she was disappointed after finishing her work, it showed that she had no way back.

He felt an immoral pleasure in leading her down this path, and felt ticklish

He stood up from the chair, and scanned the stone tablets she recorded on.

“The reactions are all different…doesn’t seem like there’s anything meaningful.”

“…”

Perhaps it was a reaction from her tension, but she looked at him despondently. He shrugged, pulled over the chair he was sitting on, had her sit down, and he leaned at the corner of the cramped bench.

“It’s interesting that it can metal metals, but I can’t think of any purpose. It’s convenient if it can eliminate unwanted metals while smelting….”

Kusla thought as he surmised the situation, only to notice that her eyes were half closed, and though he could not determine the time, it seemed the sun was about to set.

“Hey!”

“Ah!”

Fenesis lifted her head hastily, reached her eyes out, wanting to rub her eyes, but Kusla grabbed her hands to stop her.

“Don’t rub your eyes during an experiment!”

“…”

It seemed Fenesis was startled awake by Kusla’s grim look, and she widened her eyes at him, looked at her hands, and noticed that there was something dangerous on it.

“Luckily there’s two of us here. It’s possible to deal with the itch.”

Kusla leered, and Fenesis nodded obediently, only to realize the intent in his words a tad later.

She gave a look of disgust, and felt dumbfounded.

“Jokes aside, it appears we haven’t made much progress in our experiment. Who knows how it’s going on Weyland’s side. Maybe they’re doing well.”

He would be delighted to discover a way to fly, but he nevertheless hoped he would be the one doing so.

And the moment he thought so, Fenesis gave him an exceptionally frosty look

“What?”

Kusla asked, and that feisty pipsqueak raised her chin, saying,

“You did fall asleep.”

“Huh?”

“You looked a little groggy, so I did suggest that you go upstairs to rest, but you found me a hassle, saying that you were not sleeping. You did not notice that Mr Weyland and the others were done and had returned.”

“Ugh…”

Now Kusla could not say anything. He never realized so, and did not remember his conversation with Fenesis.

Fenesis gave a gleeful sigh.

“You really should improve yourself.”

Now it seemed she was the one reproaching a child.

Kusla turned his face aside, displeased with her arrogance, but she giggled,

“But I too am a little perturbed. The experiment would have failed if they continued.”

They were experimenting on the fragments derived from the sun, which was something they hardly knew about.

“Guess we should rest a little while…but there’s no place to sleep if they’re on the second level, right?”

“I’m fine with being in front of the furnace.”

“Don’t hug me even if you find it cold.”

“Wha…I-I should be the one saying that!”

Kusla ignored the fuming Fenesis, and just stretched away. The bones from his shoulders to his back cracked, and it was very comforting, but Fenesis was clearly terrified to hear this sound. He continued to shake his neck, caused more startling sounds, and Fenesis looked completely terrified.

“But I guess it’s not that easy. We’ve been doing too well after all.”

Kusla muttered so as he stared at the remains of the experiment left on the bench.

“Weyland hasn’t made progress, right?”

And his question left Fenesis gloomy.

“Mr Weyland looked terrifying when he returned.”

Weyland would become a different person altogether whenever he was engrossed in his experiments, and Kusla felt that whenever the former did not make much progress, he would be more frustrated than Kusla ever could be.

“Fly to the sky…fly to the sky…like a bird…or?”

He muttered, imagining that sight.

Angels could fly because they flapped the wings on their back, and it was different from them gathering smoke and flying up. It was more akin to a method they had not yet tried, to attach wings on the hands, and fly away.

Would that be the correct manner of doing so? One could not fathom how much arm strength was needed.

Anyone who had used the bellows before would have understood fully how reckless it would be to fly in the skies in this manner.

“If we can witness how it was like to fly, perhaps we should be able to get some clue.”

Fenesis too showed a serious expression that was different from before.

“Did they not say the shape of the key is determined by the hole?”

“Never thought you knew of such sayings.”

Kusla retorted, but he had to agree.

“But you’re right. If people can see God’s appearance, they’ll definitely find God who should exist in this world.”

“We might be able to see Him if we could make any consecrated glasses.”

“Hmm, best if we can make one that allows us to see souls rising into the sky. Tie them up, gather them together, and we might be carried along.”

Kusla recalled the various information Phil gathered, and also the various illustrations pertaining to the Whites found in Kazan and the other towns. Each and every one of them had something resembling an angel, so perhaps they should use the angel’s wings as reference, and ponder from the perspective of birds flapping their wings?

So as Kusla racked his brain, Fenesis suddenly tugged at his hem.

“What?”

And before he could get a response to his question, Fenesis continued to stare at something on the table while still staring intently. That really was a unique expression from her, one so stoic to the point where she forgot to blink, but there was something changing beneath the skin, certainly.

The sight was truly reminiscent of a Holy Maiden having a vision, and for some reason, Kusla assumed that he too had seen such a scene before.

“The soul…”

And once she muttered so, he finally recovered.

“Hey, are you seriously thinking of gathering souls and riding them into the sky?”

It was a joke made by Phil, but even if one weighed a corpse on a scale, there was no difference from a living body. The soul did not exist.

So Kusla wanted to say, but for a moment, he forgot to breathe.

Weigh using scales?

Was the matter of no weight different from the absence of existence however?

Yes, just like mist.

“Erm…may I try something before we go to bed?”

She gave him a rational look, one filled with some confidence, the eyes belonging to an alchemist.

And it would be rude to question her on what she intended to do while faced with this look.

Leaving aside the matter that she was his partner.

“Of course.”

Kusla heartily agreed, and Fenesis’s face was filled with shock and delight, but she immediately sheathed away her expression, and began to work. First, she stared intently at the stone tablets that had records of the many experiments she had done, affirmed them one by one, and reached for the vial with the crystals formed from zinc and sulfuric acid.

“Why did I not think of this after seeing how a paper bag could fly when filled with smoke?”

“What?”

Kusla asked, and Fenesis hastily answered,

“It was the same for the asphalt spring. Combustible air is formed by adding fuel into the iron urn.”

Kusla did not understand the meaning behind these words, but she had completely ignored him, her sidelong face resembling a true alchemist, her heart only pursuing whatever she could see.

“Bubbles, bubbles.”

She sounded so confident while doing her experiments, certain that it was the correct answer. Surely in the future, she would be betrayed by this belief over and over again, for experiments were merely the accumulation of all the failures.

But despite so, it did not mean that this belief was often wrong.

Fenesis prepared the lead vessels in a fluid manner, put sharp zinc pieces atop them, and poured the sulfuric acid. The zinc fragments were then engulfed in lots of bubbles, and slowly melted away.

The moment she took the paper bag.

Kusla was flabbergasted.

“I was wondering what these strange bubbles are.”

They tried all the various items with the acid that could dissolve metals, and assumed that they did everything.

But it was not a comprehensive list of what they could do, for they had forgotten about the thing formed after throwing it in.

“This does form the most noticeable amount of bubbles.”

Bubbles continued to form like rampaging crabs. The naked eye could not see, and no smell could be detected, and one had to wonder if the bubbles were actually gathered, but nevertheless, there should be something.

And once the pile of zinc was gone, Fenesis stopped what she was doing, but she did not look disappointed, her eyes instead sparkled, and a smile formed on her lips. She, who was actually touching the bag, probably understood what happened.

Her instinct was correct.

“Please look.”

Fenesis let go of her hand.

“This is the shape of a soul.”

The paper bag left her hands, and rose slowly, really slowly, into the sky.

They could not tie a rope onto a soul, but they could gather a soul in the bag.

It was invisible to the naked eye, devoid of weight, but it definitely existed in this world.

Kusla patted Fenesis’ slender shoulder, and she gave a proud smile.

An alchemist was once who would try everything after succeeding once.

So Kusla and Fenesis gathered all the gases formed by the sulfuric acid and the acidic salts to experiment, only to find that the bubbles formed through lime did not work, and everything else worked. Whenever they saw the paper bag slowly flutter up, he too felt his heart flutter, but he might be teased if he said so.

It was fact however that nothing beat the feeling of working together with others to find a result befitting their expectations.

And thus, they could even go to the corners of the world.

He wanted to experience this feeling over and over again, no matter how many times.

“…Have you been experimenting?”

Kusla and Fenesis were more focused on the experiment than clapping away and celebrating, and right when they were about to get down to work, they heard Irine’s voice.

Irine looked a little groggy, probably because she had a little lap. Fenesis let go of the bag in her hand, and it slowly rose towards the ceiling. The duo burst out laughing once they saw Irine rub her eyes frantically, assuming that she had overslept.

The experiment was a huge success.

Irine hastily turned to run up to the second level, and Weyland too charged downstairs at a tremendous speed.

“Woooahh!?”

He grabbed his head firmly, and yelled as he looked up at the paper bag in the ceiling.

Fenesis happily covered her ears in response to this joyous yell, and Kusla covered his ears with his little fingers. The knights resting on the second floor and keeping watch outside too ran over.

Kusla and Fenesis loudly declared to the gathering onlookers in unison,

“We do not need to use the fire. Now we understand why the Whites wanted to gather so many sun fragments.”

“This is the method to fly in the second.”

It was a dream people always had when looking up at the sky, always thinking that they could never do so.

And at this moment, another miracle fell into the hands of Man.

“But…”

Kusla suddenly stopped, and Irine asked anxiously,

“An-anything inappropriate?”

Kusla couldn’t shrug, for he was at his limit.

“Let me…sleep…”

Kusla’s knee buckled before he could finish.

Next to him, Fenesis appeared to be sleeping, but they never let go of their clasped hands.

But nobody could be sure as to who would not let go.

Kusla opened his eyes, found the furnace burning red, felt a blanket laid upon him, and realized that he had fallen asleep. He usually could determine for how long he slept, but this time, he was unsure of anything other than the fact that he had a good nap. It seemed he did not have a dream, and merely remained groggy for a long time.

He slept so soundly that he started to wonder if the discovery of flight was merely a dream.

He had such a thought, for he was the only one sleeping next to the furnace, and nobody else was in this charcoal hut.

“…”

It was all a dream, or so he nearly assumed, only to hear noises outdoors. He got up, stretched every aching part of his body, and went outdoors. The sun reflected on the snow was too stinging when he stepped out, and he narrowed his eyes.

The sun had risen, but it was still a cooling winter morning.

Once his eyes finally got used to the dazzling light outside, Kusla found everyone else standing there.

“Finally up? You fail as a craftsman.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to help at all. Only do so once we’re done~.”

Irine and Weyland sarcastically said, and Fenesis scampered over, standing next to him.

Her face was flushed, as though she just had fun.

“You are late. The experiment had just ended.”

Fenesis should have been as worn out as he was, but she was the first to recover. Kusla decided to assume that it was due to her being younger.

He shrugged, and looked towards the various things scattered on the ground/

It seemed Weyland had grasped the outcomes of the experiment while he was asleep, and Irine put her deft hands to work. Since Fenesis had suggested this experiment, it seemed they had some understanding.

There were iron plates, metal pieces and others laid on the deer fur carpet, and one item in particular had expanded greatly. Weyland in turn was getting the second bag to expand.

“You sewed the bladder?”

He saw that Weyland was not filling up the paper bag, so he asked Fenesis.

“Paper will burst if it expands, so we should use a sturdier bag. Seal all the cracks and openings with adhesive.”

“Hmm…then, what are they doing?”

Kusla pointed at Phil, who was atop the deer fur carpet, putting the leather cord through a leather tunic, making some twisted armor together with the escorting knights.

“It will be difficult to hold it up by the hands.”

“Huh?”

And Kusla’s question was merely met by Fenesis’ impish smile, nothing more.

While they were doing so, Irine deftly put the metal pieces and the fluids into the distillation vessels. That should be a modification of Kusla and Fenesis’s experiment. Weyland tied up the gas filled bag, and one could find, on closer look, that there was something tied to it.

Kusla’s heart raced once he noticed the heavy object with sufficient buoyancy, and his blood rushed to his fingertips.

“That’s probably it~.”

Weyland said, and sealed the bag that was as big as Phil’s. His actions looked incredulous, and there seemed to be a reel floating in the air, holding up the bag while he did his best to resist.

Kusla started to wonder if this was done to tease him, and narrowed his eyes towards the top of the nearby tree.

“Now then, Mr Phil~”

Weyland’s call brought Kusla’s consciousness back, and naturally, the latter did not find a rope descending from the heavens.

“How are you doing~?”

“I’m done.”

So he said as he opened the leather tunic with cords all over it near his chest.

One would not need to think further as to what it was for.

“Now then, let’s see where this highest honor goes to.”

Weyland said, everyone exchanged looks, and Kusla sensed that they were all looking at him. Of course, he knew why this was so, but he could not laugh at it, and merely sighed.

“Enough with the nonsense.”

He put his hand on Fenesis’ back while she was next to him, and nudged her forward.

“She’s the one who discovered it.”

She stumbled a few steps forward, came to a stop, and widened her eyes.

“Most importantly, she’s airy enough. Should be able to fly.”

“We weighed with scales. Just don’t get me or the knights to do this.”

Phil was so elated, for he was fine with anyone doing so as long as the person could float.

There was no reason not to be happy when humanity’s dream would be fulfilled at this next moment.

But Kusla nominated out of certain considerations.

The two paper bags that were prepared, and the sight of using them to fly.

One would assume Fenesis was the most suited just by imagining that scene.

“B-but…”

Fenesis gave Kusla an uneasy look, and he shrugged.

“I’ll hold your hand.”

And definitely not let go.

The words were probably effective, for while Fenesis looked terrified, she nodded a little.

“Put it on first…”

So the preparations began. Fenesis was so diminutive, and she put on the tunic, tied the knots, and then fastened it tightly. Kusla was skeptical if she could really fly, but the buoyant items used to hold the bags down seemed huge.

Perhaps she could really rise after all.

“I do not think that I will be abruptly taken to the skies.”

“So you experimented?”

“Yes. We have done so with a hemp bag of snow. I added another rope to the tree just in case, so even if these ropes do fall off, I have a safety measure in place.”

A knight held a spear, while another had a bow and arrow ready.

“Looks like you’ll experience how it feels like when a bird gets hunted.”

“I-I have no intention to…”

Kusla’s joke was met with Fenesis’s nervous response.

“Even if you get shot down, you don’t have to worry.”

Fenesis gave him a pleading look in response, and he gave a consoling smile as his fingers caressed her cheeks.

“It’s all snow at the bottom. There’s no way you’ll be hurt.”

“…”

Fenesis turned her head, looking aggrieved, for she might have been hoping that he would say something to the like of, I shall catch you even if you fall.

“How’s the preparation?”

“The bags are done.”

“Tunic…done.”

Phil carefully checked through, and nodded in satisfaction. Kusla looked towards Fenesis once again, and she, who had averted her eyes due to his teasing, finally turned towards him.

“Go enjoy yourself.”

And upon hearing this, Fenesis gave a stiff smile.

“Sh-shall we begin then? I’ll unseal the package?”

The most normal of them all, Irine, might be the most nervous, and even the knights who were strangely apprehensive about the mysterious technology were simply exhilarated about the prospect of flying into the sky.

Irine started to unravel the rope latching the bag to the massive urn, and the bag slowly but surely floated. The tunic tugging at Fenesis’ clothes, and she seemed to wince a little.

“I’ll undo the next one.”

Fenesis looked at Irine，and back at Kusla. Her green eyes were clearly showing something akin to fear, yet her face was on the verge of laughing, and Kusla knew very well what it was.

Curiosity.

“Now!”

And as Irine yelled, she undid the rope.

The second bag floated, and Fenesis’ body shook. One could see from her stiffened expression that the tunic was rather taut, and the ropes were rubbing away.

However, Fenesis’ body did not float, and it seemed as though something had reached her hands under a child’s pits, trying to carry it up

.Were two bags insufficient?

And right when this notion occured──

“Ah! Wo-woah!”

Fenesis squealed in shock as her body tilted forward, as though she was tripped forward, but her body did not land on the snow.

The onlookers watched with bated breath.

Fenesis’ petite body was clearly floating in the air.

“Ah, woah, woah!!”

But Fenesis, who was fulfilling the dreams of Man, did not appear to be enjoying herself, for she was completely discombobulated and flustered. Kusla held her hand, and stared at her eyes with a sneering smile.

He was not letting her go, no matter what, even if it was God tugging at her.

So Fenesis stopped flailing about.

It seemed very effective.

“Ohh…”

Someone marveled, and the relaxed Fenesis slowly left the ground, rising up, her eyes starting to rise from beneath him, and it was to a point where he had to look up at her.

He held her hand, and said,

“How does living in Heaven feel?”

She gave a fleeting smile, either because she was suffering in the tunic, or overwhelmed with emotions.

But Kusla did not ask her for this purpose. She, floating in the sky, gave an apt reply.

“…An angel.”

Irine murmured.

Yes.

Fenesis had two floating bags tied to her back, and though she looked clumsy, she might have resembled one if seen from afar.

She would appear to have spread her angelic wings on her back

And perhaps the Whites too were dubbed angels because of this.

“Now we recreated the legend~.”

“There isn’t any miracle or magic in this world.”

Kusla answered Weyland murmur.

“We found a way to look down at the world.”

It definitely was not an arrogant notion, for this technology would invalidated all city walls. With the spread of the wings, they could pass over countless soldiers.

They could then obtain their freedom, for they had their wings!

But right when Kusla thought so──

“Ah!”

Weyland let out a dumbstruck cry as he looked up at the sky.

Kusla too noticed, Irine covered her mouth, and finally, Fenesis turned around.

At this moment, the massively expanded bags started to break through the seams.

“──Ugh!”

Fenesis let out an inaudible shriek, but she did not form a silhouette on the snow.

Kusla pulled her in with his clasped hand, and reined her in his clutches.

Perhaps she seemed so feathery because another bag was intact, or perhaps the concept called hope was so lightweight?

“How does it feel to travel in the sky?”

Kusla asked, and Fenesis remained in his clutches, coughing. Phil and Irine hurried over to pry the bag off, and she then said,

“…V-very unbearable…”

It was a realistic thought, far from a miracle or magic.

Act 4

Through the materials for the fire herb, they discovered the technology of flight.

It was thus obvious that the technology used to destroy the town had something to do with the sun fragments, and it would be logical to follow this line of thought. The easiest item to think of would be the fire herb, but there was another question, why would the Whites prepare such a large amount of fire herbs that resulted in the destruction of a town?

The necessary ingredient to fly to the skies was an acid that could dissolve metals, formed from the sun fragments，but different from a fire herb. In other words, even if the Whites mass produced sun fragments for the sake of flying into the skies, they would have to add charcoal and sulfur if they wanted to devastate an entire town. Because of this, the situations seemed so ambiguous no matter how they thought about it. Their motives remained unknown.

The marker clearly led them down this direction however, towards an alley with a dead end.

Kusla sighed as he pondered before the furnace, only to hear frantic footsteps outdoors, and the door to the hut was slammed open.

“Hahaha! Mr Cyrus, you’re really a man~!”

“That was way too high, and you’re not a bird.”

Behind the guffawing Weyland was an exasperated Irine, and they were followed by Phil, who carried Cyrus in. The latter was seemingly dragged in, probably due to wobbly legs.

“B-but…I experienced…the legend.”

Cyrus was set on a chair, and everyone could tell that he was shivering lots. He was covered in snow, probably because of how he landed in the snow after flying in the sky, but it was not the entire reason as to why he was shivering.

After that, the Knights returned with the experiment tools, and it was Fenesis of all people who instructed them .

It was nothing particularly difficult, but the ability to confidently command others was a form of growth. Most certainly, the bolster in confidence was due to her sole discovery of flight.

Grave mistakes often occurred during such situations however, so one had to be careful, so Kusla thought as he saw her instruct others, reminded of his own failure

“Mr Cyrus, how does it feel to experience the legend?”

Kusla asked, and Cyrus, who so happened to gulp down his drink at once, put aside the wooden cup, gasped away as though he had just risen from the water.

“Ah…that truly…truly was wonderful!”

He was terrified to the point where his knees wobbled, yet he was able to say such words. Truly he was someone who tried to gather people upon this forsaken land.

“What excited me most wasn’t the fact that I could fly, but that we solved part of the Whites’ legend. Now…now we don’t have to fear the darkness we know nothing of!”

Cyrus spared no effort in covering that temple, all to seal away the curse lingering on this land. It was to be expected however, for they did not know why the town was destroyed, how it was, why, and had no choice but to seal away the hole that was the source of this calamity.

But since the mystery of the legend was solved, there was no need to fear whatever was beneath their feet. Once they understood the technology of flight, they could use the sun fragments to explain the rest of the legend. They would not burn with sunlight alone, and there were conditions to create the sun fragments. It could all be explained to others through a demonstration, and not through empty words. The whereabouts of the Whites remained unknown, but since they understood how it was possible to fly, there definitely was a plan. In no way would there be a calamity beckoned like an incoming eagle or a swing of a staff.

Was there anything to fear if one knew that that calamity was caused by tying a floating bag, lumping lots of goods , and igniting with fire?

People assumed that the old wooden hut would become a den of sprites, for nobody could personally witness what the source of the buzzing was.

And thus, this land could finally stand anew with renewed freedom, and they could build new houses and slowly regain its past prosperity. This should be what Cyrus was excited about, but Kusla said as befitting of an eccentric alchemist,

“A feeble candle truly can shine into the unknown darkness, but will not suffice in tracking a wolf’s trails.”

Yes, while they had grasped the method of destruction, and could still hear the howling echoes from deep within the cave，they remained oblivious as to why fangs were bared at this land.

“Yes…that is true.”

Naturally, Cyrus was not naive to simply assume that he was invited to experience the legend.

He wiped his cheeks with both hands, and reverted to the expression of a hunter.

“We now know that the Whites aren’t fairies, but are like us. They wear clothes when cold, eat when hungry, and are capable of thinking of ideas. This land is vast, but there are few places we can go to.”

“Even if it means flying in the sky?”

Cyrus answered Kusla’s question with confidence.

“Even if it means flying.”

“Speaking of which, the birds definitely have a nest somewhere.”

Irine interrupted as she served them bread and steaming cups of beverages for lunch along with Phil. Fenesis and the knights came from the basement, holding their share. Beverage for the day was hot wine with a rich ginger taste.

“We’re at a dead end if the legend ends with them transforming into eels and leaving the town.”

Phil and Kusla were the only ones bemused by Weyland’s joke, and everyone else looked dumbfounded.

“Don’t eels roam in the river?”

Irine asked in everyone’s stead, and the book merchant Phil answered,

“It has always been a mystery as to how eels are born. Nobody has seen its eggs. A book titled the ‘Great Museum Catalogue’ written by ancient scholars stated that eels are born from the mud, but nobody had ever seen eels actually being born from the mud.”

“There are so many unsolved mysteries in this world, and nobody had ever discovered white eels.”

“Maybe the Whites hated everything, and after they destroyed this land, they escaped to the skies…but it’s important as to where they did go. They did wander everywhere, but never settled down, and came to this place after all.”

Once they heard Weyland’s words, everyone naturally looked towards Cyrus.

Of course, Cyrus knew very well as to why he was brought here.

“If there are places suitable to reside further north, someone would have discovered it..”

“But this place is unexpectedly vast for a mountainous region with a sparse population.”

Cyrus nodded, cleared his throat, and said,

“You’re right, but just as a river will flow into the sea, so will there be people using the river down the river. When there is smoke, there is fire. If there is a hunt, the mountain wildlife will be affected, and nothing will be completely hidden. If the Whites did venture north, it would be further up, and we don’t know if there exists an end to this world, or maybe…”

The northern hunter looked away from the distant horizon, towards the ceiling.

“It is a place we can never return from. If nobody can return after heading there, obviously no one will be able to detect our whereabouts.”

It sounded so terrifying, but such scare tactics were ineffective against alchemists.

“You mean heaven?”

“No.”

Cyrus flatly denied so, and gave Kusla a rational look.

“I always loved to venture, and before I was obsessed with this land, I loved to hear tales of the great merchants moving in and out of Abbas who would trade at faraway places. Once I personally experienced the experiment, I immediately realized.”

What is he referring to? Both Kusla and Weyland frowned.

Phil yelled,

“Yes! The direction of the wind!”

“Wind direction?”

Kusla asked, and Phil looked around, saw the paper bag on the long table, and held it..

“This is the boat the Whites rode on with the wind…let’s call it a wind boat.”

Phil puffed air into the paper bag, expanded it slightly, and held it in his hands.

“This is the continent we’re on.”

He then pointed at the long table.

“Even if we can fly into the sky, it doesn’t mean that we can wander in any direction as we please.”

“Why? Will the mountains block us?”

In response to Irine’s simple question, Phil shook his head from side to side.

“The wind direction. We don’t need to worry about wind direction in a mid-distance since there will be a coxswain, but if we’re to reach those really far places, we’ll need to grasp the direction of the wind. There are some exceptions however.”

Phil prepared to float the wind ship, and said,

“In order to venture out to sea and navigate through, we’ll have to disembark through headwinds, for──”

His hand shook up and down, probably to mimic a wind effect.

And the wind ship that was in Phil’s hands started to pull its distance from the long table.

“It’s not a journey of no return. It’s possible to move through the headwinds, but we’ll be hindered. Nobody has ever navigated through the seas by riding the tailwinds, because in order to navigate through that distance, we’ll have to bear the same amount of headwind when returning.”

Irine nodded understandingly.

“Thus, it ties back to how it’s impossible to return through headwinds. Truly in this sense, it has the same meaning as going to happen.”

Cyrus nodded at Phil’s passionate explanation. It was hard for an alchemist, especially one who had been trapped in a cramped workshop, within the walls of a city, to fathom such a vast world.

But it was a logical explanation.

A floating feather could not venture through headwinds.

“So you mean the Whites went with the clouds above this land, drifted aimlessly afar, the place beyond the seas nobody had ever passed through?”

“Yes. Even if people had witnessed their departure through the winds, it is impossible to determine where they went. They really left no traces, and departed for a place nobody else could reply from.”

Kusla was instinctively skeptical the moment he saw Cyrus’ confident expression.

Despite that, he had no basis, and could only trust his instincts as an alchemist. It was impossible for him to clumsily believe that they could fall into a hole with no way back, though that hole was certainly suitable for hibernation. He glanced aside at Fenesis, and when she looked back in surprise, he averted his eyes.

Usually. I’d dismiss it as something preposterous and ignore it…”

Kusla muttered, and at the same time, looked over at the crux of the technologies left on the long table, the sun fragments.

“It’s hard to deny the facts, but we’ll need lots of sun fragments if we want to gather the bubbles from the metals and fly into the sky. It won’t be weird if they were converted into fire herbs and were too many that they ended up blasting the town, but…”

Weyland then continued,

“Kusla, you’re thinking that since the sun fragments alone won’t burn, why did they add charcoal and sulfur~?”

“Yes.”

So Kusla responded, Cyrus opened his mouth to talk, and at the same time, Fenesis raised her hand timidly.

“Ah, e-erm…p-please speak.”

She, who so happened to at the same time, was left red faced as she lowered her head.

Cyrus blinked, and Kusla sighed,

“Sorry, our apprentice here is a fool. If there’s a bunch of people on a mound, she’d take the initiative to move towards the cliff. Mind if you let her speak?”

He sought for Cyrus’ permission, and the latter, who was old enough to be her grandfather, heartily laughed and nodded.

“So, what do you want to say?”

Fenesis was peeved, for she felt belittled to have this opportunity to talk because of Kusla, but understood that she would look all the more foolish if she remained silent. She took a deep breath, calmed down a little, and said,

“I suppose…it is to destroy the evidence.”

“Just as I thought.”

Fenesis showed a relieved smile once she received Cyrus’ agreement.

“I-I too had to conceal my whereabouts occasionally while traveling. There were times when the situation was dire, and I had to hide in places I should not be at. So when I think about it, I feel that the angels…the Whites, they might have done so to destroy the evidence, maybe?”

She gave Cyrus a probing look, and the latter nodded.

Kusla too had made a similar hypothesis, but he just could not understand.

If they destroyed the town just to conceal the fact that they stayed there, why did they leave so many survivors behind to rebuild their town?

“They had the ability to scare people into secrecy. I don’t think this is to the point of removing traces of fire, sweeping away footsteps, or cleaning up food and crumbs from the floor.”

Fenesis nodded.

Kusla hesitated as to whether he should continue with what he wanted to say, and Fenesis gave him an exaggerated look, indicating that she was not one to easily burst into tears.

So Kusla discarded his excessive concern, and blurted.

“And, if they had to remove all evidence on a large scale, don’t you think they should have been a little more thorough? In other words, they didn’t complete the job, left survivors, and didn’t ensure that the legend would remain. Or maybe─”

Kusla looked towards Cyrus and Phil.

“Those who passed on the memories were not present as they were busy with something else?”

Cyrus answered,

“My guess is that there were quite a few survivors wandering around, for till this day, are there still many tribes who can recollect the events that day. The building I use as a house, along with the others were left behind from behind them. The wooden huts were all burned, well, almost, but there were quite a few things that were left behind, just reduced to dust after a long time has passed. There should be lots of survivors, as long as they’re far away from that hole.”

“I feel the same.”

Phil too chimed in,

“Those who read the records that were transcribed from verbal words, they’ll feel as though they were part of it. It is impossible to write such accounts through imagination.”

Kusla too had anticipated this, somewhat,

As expected.

“But even so, you think it’s all to destroy evidence?”

Kusla went straight to the point, and this little alchemist who brought this technology called flight back to Earth clearly nodded.

“Yes. They definitely had lots of unique tools that they could not fully bury, destroy, or throw into the furnace.”

“Tools?”

Kusla asked, and the thoughts in his mind were all connected.

”The shape of the key is determined by the keyhole…I see, so the Whites tried to destroy their own tools?”

And once they heard that, everyone present looked around at the hut.

There were various experiment tools set everywhere, and there would be a lot more of them if they really tried to research in a workshop. All the more so that they would use unique ones for an alchemy experiment.

Some were made of tin, some of lead, or iron and bronze.

Each and every one of them was too sturdy to be broken, and would not rot even when buried.

“But isn’t that too ridiculous?”

The blacksmith Irine interrupted,

“They could have thrown it into the fire, no? Heat it to high temperatures with the bellows, and they should melt in a single night.”

“That can work, but what if they don’t have the time?”

“Eh?”

“Someone who has intentions to steal something may appear at any given moment, no?”

Or perhaps the Whites knew those people were malicious, that if they handed their tools over, there would be irrevocable consequences.

If the Whites went to various lands just to escape these people, only to be caught up, and created the fire herbs and ignited them out of desperation…

“So they caused a blast of high temperatures that would destroy everything?”

“Just to ask, what do you think, Mr Cyrus?”

Weyland asked, and Cyrus merely shrugged,

“I feel the same. I did see the experiment tools managed by the previous heads of the Poldorofs back in new Abbas, and they’re the same as these things.”

The tools were to be treasured well, and the notion to repair them once damaged was completely ingrained. He had never thought of destroying them, and the idea in itself might be sacrilegious.

This might be the reason why Weyland and Irine readily accepted this notion..

“I agree with this sentiment.”

So Kusla said, and Fenesis looked as though an arrow was shot through her chest, so his smile abated somewhat.

To her, her suggestion was not something to be happy over.

“I never understood why the fire herb exists when it can destroy an entire town, but the Whites might have made up their mind to depart for a place they cannot return from without worrying about being tracked down, and bury the source of their curse, the technologies. It’s a very practical reason, and the best way to do it.”

Technologies by themselves were of such nature, and Kusla, who lived in the world of alchemy, had to sigh while speaking.

“I…initially thought it was to crush the pursuers, but seemed weird. Never thought it would be to destroy those tools that were basically part of their body. Well, this destruction of evidence can explain something else.”

“Something else?”

Irine asked, and Kusla answered,

“If the explosion happened in the workshop, the question at hand is, where was the workshop. If they really intended to destroy the town completely, why did the explosion occur somewhere far away from the town?”

That makes sense, so Weyland stroked his chin.

“For optimal effect, they should have done it at the town center, where they gathered the sun fragments, but they didn’t. It’s my guess, but the Whites knew how drastic this would be, and wanted to minimize casualties, so they established the workshop far from the town.”

But no matter how they tried to be considerate, it was still such a terrifying calamity to the residents, an earth-shattering incident. They could only assume that the Whites exerted that force upon them without warning.

The murals in the temple depicted the Whites looking into the sky, like priests conversing with God.

“This should explain the angel’s legend completely.”

Kusla said half joking, and silence beckoned.

The atmosphere was indescribable, and did not seem as though they were pursuing the past. It seemed they were forced to look at their own mistakes, rather than the feeling of stripping bare the mysteries, and attaining the solution spanning a century.

They never assumed that it would be easier if they deviated from the topics of the Whites, but those of various motives who pursued the Whites were as obsessed with the technology as Kusla.

Kusla patted Fenesis on the head next to him.

Fenesis lowered her teary face, but she did not cry.

“Just to add, there’s a very important and realistic benefit to this.”

Weyland lifted his head, and nodded so,

“Yeah. We can actually ascertain this~.”

“Eh?”

Irine and Phil lifted their voices, and the others could not do so in the slightest.

“H-how? Do you have a magic staff to reverse time?”

Phil blurted out, and the others could only respond wryly “You read too many books.”

Kusla said,

“We’ll investigate the temple. If there are really various tools that were exploded there, there should be lots of debris. If we actually dig up the land there, we should be able to obtain quite the abnormal amount of metals. Maybe this will explain the legend of them smelting some unique metals .”

Phil slapped at his forehead.

“Now that we have the theory, it’s time to experiment.”

He deliberately indicated with a hearty tone, turned his head aside, and saw Fenesis give him an adamant smile.

It was past noon, and the white snow outside the hut reflected the sunlight greatly, yet it was freezing. Kusla and company hurried forth as though they were prompted so.

“But if the hypothesis is correct, then us residents might be able to sleep peacefully for the first time in our lives.”

Cyrus could not help but mention so as they walked on.

“If we can be sure that they went to a place of no return, we don’t have to worry about their footsteps, and we can set fire safely knowing the reason why this land was razed to the ground. It isn’t completely ludicrous to think that we can rebuild this town.”

Cyrus mentioned this to Kusla and Weyland for the umpteenth time.

After all, he decided to stay for this purpose alone, and no amount of excitement could convey how delighted he was.

“Finally…we get to retrieve the anchor in our hearts!”

He raised his hands excitedly while he stood by the cave the Whites left behind.

Kusla too should have been happy. This was not a conclusion he had arrived at alone, but he was involved in this matter that all historian authors would have written much about.

However, he remained rooted at the entrance, just as he arrived the first time, and looked at the stone ‘hat’ of the temple buried under the snow. Next to him, Fenesis too was silent, so Kusla thought that she probably realized what he was thinking.

“Why the long face?”

Phil called, giving an amused look.

“I’ll hang a leather bag on your lips.”

“Ahahaha.”

Phil laughed while staring intently at Kusla.

But he suddenly turned around, and went down the temple’s slope.

“Let’s see how I’ll topple it over!”

Cyrus, Weyland, Irine, and the errand escorts that were the knights who were already at the bottom of the stairs did not look back at Kusla.

Kusla exhaled cold breath from his nostrils, and gently rubbed his hands.

“You really are the restless alchemist.”

Weyland, ever the genius in enjoying whatever he did, arrived first at the temple, and Fenesis looked up at him, saying so,

Kusla sensed that the expression was similar to when she invited him for the snowball fight.

“Everyone thinks it is all over.”

However, Kusla was the only one who did not assume so, or so Fenesis thought. In fact, Phil was sufficiently polite in leaving this position to her, and Weyland surely had realized so, acting so lively while understanding so.

The mystery of the Whites resembled a water mill, for time continued to tick through the wheel, and the gears could only follow.

“That’s how I am.”

Kusla took half a step forward, trampling the snow beneath him.

“The next step, the next step, the next step, I remain restless like InterestKusla, day and night, until I reach the land of Magdala.”

He inhaled, and the exhaled breath was white mist that continued to linger for a while.

It would vanish however, so until then, he would expunge all the agitation he had in his heart into words, as proof that he was alive.

Kusla said,

“Looking at it now, the technology of flight is hopeless. It requires lots of modification, and we can’t pursue the Whites immediately. In that case…”

In that case?

This question had remained in his heart for quite a while.

They were not fully free, and were in the service of the crumbling Claudius Knights，serving under the forces led by Alzen and Archduke Kratal, and it was likely they were deemed as the trump card to reverse the situation.

Even though they had used the angel’s technology in the war, they could not predict exactly how it would change.

Assuming that everything went smoothly, and they could break free from the perilous situation, would Alzen then force Kusla and company to research freely? Kusla could be certain that the answer would be a resounding no. Alzen was not naive in the slightest, and would prepare a cage for a pet bird. He might even pull some trickery in order to allow them to continue their service while they sought to fly. He would have no difficulty in getting a white cloth which he could dye black, and would do whatever he wanted.

In that case, there was only a single path left. If they wanted to seek the Whites, use their technology, and fly towards where they were, there was one thing he had to do.

In other words, he could only escape from Alzen and company.

“If we want to seek the Whites, we need to avoid a war that won’t be beneficial to us, We need to get our freedom, like birds, to avoid the fate of being caged till our deaths.”

Back when he had to obey the Knights, supervised as he researched in the workshop, he yearned for such freedom.

This might be the perfect opportunity to obtain this freedom, and might be the last.

“Is there any reason why you, ever the fearless alchemist, are hesitating now?”

He might be overjoyed if she had taunted him with a teasing look, but there was a look of gentleness on her face.

“First, Alzen and the others will be desperate. If we try to run away, I don’t think anything good will happen to us. It’ll cause trouble to Phil who’s part of the Jedeel Guild, the Poldorofs, Cyrus and the others.”

It would be pragmatic to think that they would ask for the whereabouts of Kusla and company, even if they had to hack down anyone in their path.

“Second?”

Fenesis prompted, and Kusla said with a sigh,

“It’s a path of no return.”

If what they had guessed was correct, the Whites went down that path.

And ultimately, it would prove that the hypothesis was correct.

Thus, once they escaped from Alzen’s pursuers, they would have to weigh between two matters.

The possibility that they could meet the descendants of the Whites.

And on the other extreme, the possibility that they could not return from afar.

He was not too nostalgic about the lands they had lived on thus far, but he inevitably would doubt the possibility of him returning.

“I do not mind.”

Fenesis took a step forward, trampled the snow, and though her feet were small, they had walked countless perilous paths, no less than Kusla did.

“It might be the first time I would depart from the first friend who knew about herbs…”

In the past, there was quite the commotion caused because of the aphrodisiac and the glass making process. She probably was referring to the daughter of the apothecary.

And Fenesis took a further half step from Kusla, probably to emphasize so. Kusla looked at her, and she smiled as though she was teased, before she sheathed it, and approached him.

“I do not mind going anywhere, as long as I am with you..”

These might be the words she had weighed for long, for once Kusla remained silent for quite a while, she blushed, and moved away from him

“Y-you are always like this──”

“No.”

Kusla interrupted Fenesis’ complaint, and said,

“I already knew you would follow.”

Fenesis’ ears pricked, raising the cloth wrapped over her head along with her hat.

However, she was not a girl who would always be bullied, and immediately frowned.

“Not that you are willing to accompany me?”

“You’re following me.”

The intent was the same, but it sounded different.

Kusla leered at the frowning Fenesis, and then sighed.

“But those two?”

They entered the temple not too long ago, but Weyland had exited, holding a certain thing in his hands, and he threw it at them. It was an obviously pitch black item on the white snow, probably some burned iron. They found what they were looking for.

Weyland then waved at Fenesis again.

“You don’t want to leave them?”

This foolish manner of questioning was a privilege limited to children, so Kusla thought as he quietly gritted.

“Damn.”

Nevertheless, he could not help but curse, and Fenesis giggled.

The old Kusla would never have hesitated, and chose to focus on seeking the Whites alone. In fact, he had defied the orders from the Knights many times, and devoted himself to his own research.

Despite this, alchemy ultimately was a matter of the everchanging, so the situation around him might change, which he had to me.

“And…it might sound like a betrayal to you.”

Kusla turned to frown at Fenesis, and the latter was taken aback.

“Speaking of which…the me now is still hesitant to conclude if following the Whites is something sane, even though Weyland and Irine want to come along.”

“They are willing to accompany, more like.”

Fenesis corrected him with a smile, surely out of consideration.

But Kusla disliked that she did so, so he tapped her head, sighed, and continued,

“Even with those two, we can’t be certain if we can find the Whites. Awaiting us in the future is a big adventure on a completely isolated land. Neither the prestige of the Knights nor the alchemists’ bluffs can work. We don’t know if currencies can work there, and we’re not adventurers, we’re alchemists, an apprentice and a blacksmith，only capable of executing our full abilities in a workshop. We’re no different from waste outside there.”

Fenesis was a little peeved to be seen as an apprentice, but she waited for him to finish, slowly looked afar, and though in deep thought,

“If we do not have to venture, we can spend the time doing more research.”

“Yes.”

Technology itself was something that could be done by anyone, just a matter of the process.

The Whites were earlier than Kusla’s group by a century, but anyone who had finished their century’s worth of research could catch up, even without seeing the Whites.

“Fufu. I suppose so though.”

“Huh?”

“When I was in the monastery, the clergymen too did their various research within the walls. They really stayed at the chairs, and did not move at all, all to pursue the truth to the world. Perhaps an apprentice to a restless alchemist can be more delighted sitting at a dining table, fall asleep and not worry about being eaten by wolves.”

While she was joking, this might be her true thought.

She had experienced far too many life-threatening situations, and already knew how perilous it would be.

“You sure you don’t have to look for your compatriots?”

Kusla asked, and Fenesis gave a forlorn smile, shaking her head,

“The people with direct blood relations to me no longer exist.”

He put his hand on her head, not to treat her as a child, nor was it to tease her.

He patted her head back and forth.

“Anyway…I’ll discuss this with Weyland. He probably has his own ideas, and I still owe him one. Sometimes, I feel that I might wish for his help in the spur of the moment.”

“Moment?”

Fenesis repeated obediently.

“Moment. Yes, moment. Him.”

Kusla deliberately shrugged, and Fenesis smiled happily.

She seemed to have thought of something, for she slowly crouched down, gathered snow, and made a snowball..

The snow made the snow fluffy, and it kept falling.

This probably was a characteristic of happiness.

“It is impossible to finish, for this is not the correct shape or form.”

And so, she said these words only a former nun would.

“So you mean that the adventure’s over, and that us alchemists should return to the workshop…?”

Kusla hissed unhappily, and Fenesis flew away the snow in her palm, clapped it off, and looked so fragile as she stood, yet so sturdy.

“The Bible has this one phrase. Ash to Ashes, dust to dust.”

“Oh curses…or so I want to lash out, but since the angel’s legend does exist, I suppose I have to believe the Bible a little.”

“I suppose you will look decent in clergymen garb.”

This comeback from a young lady might have been mustered after much difficulty, but Kusla merely shrugged.

“So it’s like praying in an ivory tower, and observing the skies where God is?”

“With a hot beverage and a towel as company.”

Kusla looked down at Fenesis who replied so, and finally let out a chuckle.

He however did not chime in, that he had an accomplice.

“Wh-why are you smiling?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Uu～…”

Kusla ignored the hissing Fenesis, looked back towards the temple, and sighed,

“That Weyland’s always so excited.”

Weyland exited the temple, holding lots of burned items, and throwing them away. Since they were able to pick up so much metallic rubble, there was no doubt it was originally a workshop.

Irine, Phil and the Knights exited as well, and following them was Cyrus.

There was no need to seal the place as a vessel of God’s wrath, but because of this, Cyrus turned to face the temple again, made a deep bow, and offered his prayers.

“I’ll be off to the hut. It’s cold.”

Kusla said, and turned around. Fenesis initially hesitated, but she finally chose to pursue Kusla.

It seemed the person to spend time with was a very important matter.

Kusla started to apply realistic colors upon the land of Magdala that had simply been glowing.

The moment Weyland returned to the hut, he put all the cleared tools outdoors.

The Whites used the technology of flight to depart for a place hardly anyone would reach; there might be more realism to this hypothesis, which proved that the technology could be applied for better effect. Perhaps he was feeling restless due to this belief.

However, he did not become careless of this and Kusla immediately realized so the moment he spoke.

“Looks like I don’t have to convince you even though you’re easily swayed, Kusla~.”

Light and sturdy, these were the reasons why Weyland prepared a bag sewed with parchment, despite the risk of divine judgment. He tossed the metal fragments into the acid, and said,

“We seek balance in everything we do, and if there is something heavy placed on one end of the scale, we have to add weight to the other end~.”

“If we want to see the Whites, we’ll have to pay the price for heading to an unknown journey, even if it means killing Alzen.”

Weyland raised his head, and guffawed silently with his mouth opened.

Kusla leaned on the tree as he witnessed this. The ones outdoors were Kusla、Weyland， and a knight a little further from the entrance to the hut.

Their hypothesis was seemingly validated, so Phil and Cyrus went to the plaza to discuss future collaborations. As part of the Jedeel Guild, Phil did whatever he pleased, and would probably try to get Cyrus to owe a favor and gain some profit.

Fenesis and Irine waited in the hut, and made bags of various materials for the experiment, as Weyland instructed.

It was afternoon, the warmest moment on this cold day, and it felt comforting to stay outdoors.

“And even if we continue to think, there’s always a loophole to be exploited. Maybe it’s not a bad thing to assume that everything’s balanced and cast a bet~.”

The bubbles that arose immediately were captured by the bag, and it slowly expanded like a trick.

“But that’d be pointless if the scale itself is heavy to the point of imbalance.”

“You’re right.”

The risk in pursuing the Whites was way too big.

“But do you want to remain under Alzen’s beck and call?”

Kusla’s question was met with Weyland’s smirk.

“You don’t have to test me, Kusla~. Not pursuing the Whites is different from being under Alzen’s command.”

So Kusla thought that while he did not want to praise Weyland, the latter truly was as outstanding as him.

“Once we solve the legend of the Whites, we’ll start to wonder about other legends or superstitions. I don’t want to be caged here.”

The war aside, Weyland meant that he did not want to remain in the cage Alzen would prepare for them, and be cuffed up by the collar. Even on this land, there might be many similar to the Whites’ legend.

Since they would be going on an adventure together, they could proceed to familiar places that were more practical.

“But do you have any idea? We need money to travel and research.”

Weyland tightened the bag with a leather rope, and the expanded bag was restless, resembling a bird that would fly into the distance the next moment.

“Well, if possible, the best option is to borrow money from Mr Phil’s guild for research. They have ships, an information network, and most importantly, a book merchant in Mr Phil~.”

“Alzen too has a lot of money. We don’t know exactly how powerful Archduke Kratal is, but he’s an archduke. Most definitely nobility.”

“But they do fancy alchemy, simply because it’s beneficial to war and money making~.”

As long as their owner had motives, they would be rid of their freedom to research.

Alzen however would definitely not allow Kusla and the others to escape. As Weyland had said, the technology possessed by alchemists could contribute to money making, and even affect the chances of winning the war. If they really were to work with Phil, and Alzen was to interrupt, the situation would be different, worse even.

“Shall we just have Alzen and Archduke Kratal lose the war and their heads…maybe…?”

Kusla thought, and suddenly realized something.

He looked towards Weyland, and finally understood why the latter was brooding in a manner so unbecoming of himself.

“Are you actually?”

“Huuuh?”

Weyland leered away.

One could probably assume how the topic would divert if it all started from the Whites.

And Weyland was far more decisive than Kusla.

“There’s no need for them to die on the battlefield just as we wish. We have the fire herb and the elixir, or even poison like mercury and arsenic.”

They could assassinate, or make it look like an accident.

Till this point, they had murdered their superiors, but a new one would replace them. It was impossible for them to escape this great organization called the Knights, and even if they did, they could not continue with their research.

But they had experienced several hardships and wonderful encounters on this wonderful journey, and it was not like the past.

They were owed a huge favor to someone who wished to build a new town, and an acquaintance affiliated to a massive merchant guild.

Furthermore, they possessed a technology no man could ever fathom.

If they really wanted to use all their tools to escape to their desired place in the shortest distance possible, there was no need to hesitate.

Alzen did show some understanding to Kusla and company, and they once survived a perilous situation. Truth be told however, they lived in different worlds, and he probably took them as pawns, and they had no need to feel guilty about this notion.

All that was left was to do, or not to.

And who would be killed.

“…I’ve no right to call myself the restless alchemist. I’ve been dithering recently.”

“Hahaha. Maybe that’s the price of not sleeping well~.”

Kusla scratched his head and arched his back, looking down, just as when he was locked in the cell in the tower, willing to charge towards the Truth even if he had to be the enemy to the world.

Weyland looked at him and laughed boldly.

“Feels like the pranks of old.”

Of course, they were not actually pranks, and it was best that Fenesis was not told of them.

They were fine being the only ones to get dirty here.

“We’ll prepare for this then. It won’t be difficult.”

Kusla said, and Weyland let go of the parchment bag as a reply or so.

And, speak of the devil.

“What won’t be difficult?”

Kusla thought he was hallucinating.

He quickly turned towards the source of the voice.

“Al-Alzen?”

He called out in shock once he saw the silhouette approach from the trees.

“At least add a ‘Lord’.”

Alzen, standing before them, merely frowned, though still leisurely.

Kusla hesitated for a moment, and made up his mind the next moment. He reached for the dagger at his waist, crouched down, and got ready to jump.

If they wanted to do so, the location did not matter.

But right when he was about to take the first step, a burly knight stood forth from behind Alzen, and it was obvious he was different from the escorts who accompanied Kusla and company. There was no way Kusla could win no matter how vigorous he was.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed Weyland glancing towards the hut. Since Alzen could eavesdrop from the trees so easily, it was obvious that an ambush was set around the hut.

He was careless.

He had assumed that Alzen needed them, but would only send a messenger or so. He believed he could coax the messenger, since their existences were basically a miracle.

But there were some whom the tricks would be ineffectual on.

And it so happened to be Alzen of all people.

“All defenseless here, and you dare to talk about assassinating me.”

Alzen shrugged, and sighed.

“I applaud you for not being so naive to choose to escape…but a person who can’t put himself in the shoes of his soldiers can never be a commander.”

Kusla’s gritting teeth might seem as an applause to Alzen, but the latter did not look gleeful in any case, and instead gave a look that showed that he had clearly anticipated so..

He slowly raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, and put his palm between his eyebrows.

“…But, seriously, am I dreaming now?”

Before him, the parchment bag continued to float into the sky, dragging the rope along. Anyone would ahve assumed it was magic, or a miracle, to see this without any explanation, and be scared, but Alzen remained nonchalant.

“We’re in a nightmare now.”

Faced with the barest of defiance, Alzen slowly raised his hand, and said to Kusla and Weyland,

“Enough, calm down.”

A wry smile appeared on his face.

“I was able to attack like this not because of your incompetence. It is similar to how I would be a hindrance if I stayed in the workshop. Do you understand? I’ve always wondered how to use my troops, and this is the superiority I have over you.”

Is he showing kindness? Kusla stared intently at Alzen, but the latter looked back and forth between Kusla and Weyland, and showed a heartfelt wry smile.

“And I’m relieved to know that my guess was correct. My rush to get over here was not for naught, but it really put a strain on my old bones.”

Alzen glanced again at the bag floating in the float, and showed an earnest smile.

“Who would have thought flight is possible? You two are really alchemists.”

“So what?”

Kusla’s retort had Alzen looking back to the ground, the smile still on his face.

If Kusla and company were actual alchemists, then Alzen would be a true commander who could appraise the real deal.

“We intend to surrender to the enemy to break this deadlock.”

“Huh?”

Kusla looked towards Weyland, and the latter too looked back at him, wondering if he misheard.

It seemed that was not the case.

“Kukuku…of course, you tried to assassinate me, since you never thought of this. How do you think I would swear loyalty to the Knights with Archduke Kratal, to live and die together? Like you, we’re also linked through mutual benefits.”

“…”

Kusla was speechless, and stood still. Surrender? Enemy?

“We’ll talk about the details in the hut. I suppose this proposal isn’t a bad thing to you, no?”

Alzen said, and quickly went to the hut. The knight guarding Alzen had his back turned on them, but he was not an enemy that could be defeated with one stab.

Given that Alzen personally appeared, it showed that the situation was too dire, and one would find it difficult to doubt his words. This place was not easily accessible, and truth be told, Alzen and his master, the Archduke Kratal, were trapped in enemy territory. There was no reason why he could simply appear here.

Alzen had a grand secret plan in mind, and needed them no matter what.

In any case, the assassination ploy was ruined in an instant, and they had no choice.

“Hey.”

Kusla called out to Weyland, who too remained rooted.

“He said we’re real alchemists.”

“Heh~”

Weyland, whom he knew since they were still brats, snorted coldly,

“He means we only know about stuff in the workshop, and not the ways of the world~.”

Kusla kicked the snow at his feet, and walked forward.

This was the only thing they could do.

They could only move forward; hesitation was futile.

Act 5

Fenesis and Irine were taken as hostages.

Or not. They were not taken elsewhere, but this could be arranged for if there was a necessity.

Despite that, Fenesis looked a little uneasy, for her countless experiences taught her that they were in no position to choose.

Kusla naturally was in the same situation, but he merely felt the uneasy Fenesis grabbing his arm, so he had to try and act poised..

“I have heard from the Jedeel guild merchant, but he was as I heard in Abbas.”

Phil too surely was at a loss as to what to do. Kusla and company had no reason to begrudge him, even if he ultimately chose to stand on Alzen’s side.

“He begged me over and over again not to do anything violent to you. Truly, it is a waste that such a man is a mere merchant.”

Alzen quipped, and got down to business,

“Now then, as I have just mentioned, we intend to surrender to the enemy. Given that the Knights’ enemies have teamed with the Pope, there is no way this will end well, even though the war effort is not completely devastated. After all, the Knights existed only because they followed the Pope’s will to purge the pagans.”

It seemed that various forces in the entire world had united against the Knights.

“But currently, there are many who can’t back out, for the Knights had gained too many privileges. Some are probably intending to bolster their standing in the Knights amidst this chaos, and most will probably fight under the Knights’ flagship. An intense fight seems unavoidable.”

However, the Knights had basically fallen to the bottom of a hole they had dug through their wealth and heavy arrogance.

The Knights and the enemies certainly had much animosity, compared to the worshipers and pagans living in areas bordering the land of Latria, ruled under its pagan queen.

Alzen’s words left Kusla dumbfounded, for the latter never assumed the enemy would accept this surrender.

“In any case, the losses are always what we are looking at. Anyone will wish to be on the winning side of the war, and to minimize the losses. This is why nothing is ever outright distinct in war, for there is always room for negotiations.”

Alzen and company intended to surrender to the enemy, and needed Kusla and company.

In that case, there was only one conclusion.

“Are you intending to sell us off?”

Kusla’s question had Alzen chuckling in grief.

“Soldiers are no merchant goods, and if I do sell you off, our side will be defenseless. This has to be avoided.”

Kusla could not grasp Alzen’s motive, and though he wanted to lash out, he could not discern what would happen next.

“My ultimate loyalty is to ensure that Archduke Kratal returns to his land safely, and that it continues to belong to him. We need to be of use to ensure this objective.”

“…So in other words, you’re using us as tools~?”

Weyland, who had deduced this purpose, said unhappily.

“Yes. We are the only forces in this world with real alchemists, and can fight with alchemy, and Archduke Kratal is the one ruler commanding these forces. Most importantly, these alchemists do not fear God, and are willful…”

Even a would have deduced what would be said next.

“So you’re saying that the only one who can get these alchemists to obey is our great Archduke Kratal.”

Kusla interrupted in disgust, and Alzen clapped pretentiously.

Thus, Archduke Kratal would be deemed by the enemy as an important tool, and everything would happen with a happy ending.

But Kusla stared at Alzen intently.

“This really will work out as you wish.”

For this would mean that Kusla and company would be completely under Alzen’s jurisdiction, and truth be told, there was nothing different from before. A turnip once pickled in vinegar would never revert to its original state no matter how one would try to wish it.

The freedom they knew of, the vast world they recognized outside the walls, and especially the world that had the Whites and their legend, would remain in conflict with the benefits under Alzen.

Are we going to be under the selfish whims of a ruler again? Kusla was unable to suppress the rage in his heart, and was about to retort back──

“And it is because your thoughts are limited to this, that you have been acting like tools, always being used.”

Alzen gave an unamused smile, and gave a look at a knight.

“Bring the wine. They do not appear to believe me.”

He looked completely displeased, like a master being considerate for his disciples, only to be misunderstood. “Now listen.” He continued,

“At this point, we’re the only ones who can ensure your safety.”

“So, that──”

“Lest I ask, what do you intend to do with this girl?”

Kusla was about to rebut with frustration, only to be doused by Alzen.

“She has blood relations with the culprits who destroyed this land. Do you think you can survive without protection under any organization? And you solved the legend of the Whites. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that a miracle’s like a curse?”

Alzen said, and the knight brought the wine. He poured the wine into the cup, and immediately frowned once he tasted it.

“How spicy.”

The knight probably brought the wine with ginger by accident. It really was spicy to a noble used to drinking sweet wine.

“It’s not a bad taste though. Anyway, as a metaphor, assuming that you wish to surrender to the enemy yourself, think about how they will deal with you? This girl’s existence will probably shock them. Even if she’s hailed as an envoy from God, if this ends up the case…you can assume what will happen next, no?”

After witnessing a miracle, they would be surrounded by the masses, who would await another miracle. For every expectation that was met, a new hope would be born, and they would be raised to a height until they could not satisfy completely.

And that height was the gallows.

“Of course, we have already experienced this ourselves when we escaped Kazan, and the commotion over the making of the church bell. We, already familiar with the issues, are able to handle them. You may think this is a prison, but as long as you remain in a workshop under our jurisdiction, you’ll be far from these issues, and able to have your freedom.”

Kusla looked so peeved, for he understood Alzen’s words very well.

“Considering this point alone, I’d assume that we’re a rare existence for you lot.”

Alzen said dumbfoundedly, leaned his back away, and clasped his hands on his knee.

His words were neither a threat nor an attempt to coax.

For the answer was always obvious.

“It seems that without your help, we won’t be able to overcome this ordeal without harm. It’s also best that you have our aid. This will benefit both parties, am I right?”

Please, understand this. So his expression implied, hoping that they would not act out of rage, and accept his proposal.

Weyland twitched, and Irine’s heel tapped at her other leg.

And Fenesis, who had been latching onto his arm, looked up at him, exerting strength in her hands.

“And after we break through? You say we’ll be forced into a workshop?”

Kusla asked.

“After? Of course. I don’t intend to change anything from when the Knights ruled this world, and I won’t cut the research spending. Either way, your research will earn lots. Archduke Kratal is never one to forget his debts, and you will be treated unprecedentedly lavishly. Your freedom to research will be assured until you die.”

“But we are still caged birds.”

Kusla licked his dry lips, and bit upon the leg of his prey.

“You’ll give us the freedom to research? Enough with this obvious lie. You know what we’re thinking, so you know what the next step is after we solve the legend of the Whites.”

“You’re interested in other legends, no?”

Alzen did not bother to disguise his assessment.

“Heh. In that case, you’d have guessed what we will do once we can fly like birds in the sjt.”

Kusla said as sarcastically as possible.

But he knew it was pointless to dispute. He knew that the only way out was to do as Alzen said. He knew he was powerless against the long, vast, torrent of the world, and he could never win against the irrationality of the world.

An alchemist might be able to turn lead into gold, but the gold would not have an alchemist’s sidelong face imprinted.

Kusla’s glare towards Alzen was burning with hostility, and Alzen blinked away, before he said,

“Ah, so you’re worried about that?”

He then waved his hand slightly.

“I said I’ve no intention to interfere in your research, and I’ll let you do as you please>.”

“Enough with the pretense!”

Kusla lashed out, and Alzen frowned, rubbing his temples.

However, there was no condescension in his expression as he looked towards Kusla, Weyland and company.

Instead, it was a very nostalgic look.

“How young you are.”

“Huh?”

“Reminds me of the past.”

Alzen sighed like an old man, his fingers crossed on his belly.

“I truly believed that I could complete everything by myself, that everything I could reach for was the entire world. It truly was a magnificent notion, for there are many in this world who cannot extend their arms out at will.”

Kusla had words to say, but he could not express it through his mouth. At the same time, he was perturbed, for he realized that the person before him was not the one he should try to vent his frustrations upon.

“If the legend is in the east, you’ll head east; if a superstition exists in the west, you’ll head west. It’s not like this isn’t plausible. Or are you intending to pursue the Whites’ journey? I heard from the book merchant that the Whites went to a place they can never return from?”

Alzen had grasped this much, and yet he believed he could convince Kusla and company.

“But truth be told, your mindset will end with a limit.”

Alzen closed his eyes, let out a long sigh, as though he was here to put an end to the journey.

“In other words, I want you to take in disciples, increase your people, and even without leaving the workshop, you can investigate many more things than you would by leaving.”

Kusla finally had a chance to rebut, and he latched onto it..

“You want us to raise disciples? It’s not easy to raise talented and trustworthy alchemists!”

They had such fiery passion that they dared to doubt a Saint, and most importantly, they had an indomitable spirit, never one to yield.

It was a gift.

But Alzen laughed till he shook, as though he had enough, and nearly choked.

“Hahaha. I suppose the master who taught you alchemy thought so as well.”

“Wha…!”

“The same master had raised two wonderful alchemists.”

Alzen then looked towards Fenesis.

“And I hear another is groomed to be one?”

He might have heard from Phil that it was Fenesis who discovered the method to fly.

“Alchemy itself is also a skill. A life’s work. It is difficult to teach, but not impossible. Am I right? Blacksmith girl?”

Irine, who was suddenly spoken to, was a little stunned, and nodded hesitantly while Kusla and Weyland watched.

“The important point is that you should grow up.”

Not to blindly advance, and not to rely on a self-destructive method.

Of course, he understood Alzen’s words.

But his body would not accept.

And he, caught in this dilemma, could not move, and he heard Weyland interrupt,

“But that doesn’t sound interesting~.”

Kusla looked towards Weyland as though he had broken free of his bonds, and Weyland merely gave a perturbed smile back at him.

“Pursuing the Whites in itself is basically an alchemist’s dreams. There’ll be lifelong regrets if we only hear through word of mouth. If we can talk to them, the best case scenario for us is to establish a workshop.”

“Hm, I understand your sentiments. I was someone who once swung the sword on the battlefield, and there were many times when I felt that I should enter the battlefield rather than command others.”

Alzen looked as though he had expected this reaction, for he maintained calm. Kusla however started to understand that Alzen was not always like this. Just as viscous molten iron would take shape when cooled, he became like this through various experiences.

Decades ago, he too stood at the same predicament as Kusla and company.

Kusla finally understood why he felt so rash and unbearable.

For he finally understood something, that he was not too special in this world.

“I shall ask.”

Alzen then fired an arrow.

“Did you truly think that the legend of the Whites were solved by you alone, by your own power?”

Of course not.

Alzen asked, knowing that Kusla and the others knew so.

“If you wish to attach a grander goal, you can’t shoulder the load completely. You can only trust others, seek their help, and you’ll unexpectedly discover that others can do just as well as you.”

The old him certainly would have disagreed with this sentiment.

But at this point, he trusted in the capabilities of Weyland and Irine, and would hope for them to assist him whenever he was in a fix. Fenesis even suppressed him in discovering an alchemy he had not noticed. Would the old him have imagined so?

The experience truly would change a person, and it was dangerous for anyone who dabbled in alchemy through theory alone and not experience. He truly understood so, that if he doubted Alzen’s words, he would basically be doubting the time he spent with Weyland, Irine, and Fenesis.

“But…”

Alzen, who had rattled off so fluently till this point, stammered for the first time. “Having said so much, it doesn’t mean that the young will mature immediately. In the spur of the moment, you surely would not have recklessly planned to seek the Whites the moment you obtained the power of flight. Besides…”

Alzen gave a meaningful look between Kusla and Fenesis.

“Your obsession with the Whites isn’t due to the unique skills they have, no?”

And the next moment, he felt ashamed, as though someone had seen something about him that should not be seen. It was too late to find another excuse however.

Kusla took a deep breath, and stared intently at Alzen.

“Yes. This fellow here is most likely of the same tribe as the Whites.”

“This is the toughest part. It’s one thing if the spies actually stole your technology. In the worst case scenario, they might do something to the young lady.”

The tense atmosphere dissipated in an instant.

Everyone agreed with Alzen’s assessment.

Kusla was the only one who remained restless, for Alzen spoke what was on his mind. He might not have pursued the matter if the spies had only stolen the technology and ran.

“I shall not mock. Archduke Kratal is quite the temperamental person, and you are a lot easier to handle compared to him.”

Is this some kind of compassion? Alzen’s intent was ambiguous, but Kusla would only be laughed off if he backed down here.

Kusla continued to stare at Alzen intently as he reached a hand towards Fenesis, grabbing her in his clutches.

“If she wishes for it, I’ll look for the Whites, even if God has to stop me.”

Weyland curled his lips in bemusement, stopping short of clapping, while Irine widened her eyes.

The involved party herself, Fenesis, was stunned and delighted.

“I’m envious of such youth…but you have no need to pursue the Whites. You understand? it’s not a matter of you going, or sending people over. The journey you seek was already meaningless to begin with.”

“…What?”

Kusla and even Weyland stopped smiling as they looked at Alzen.

“What did you say?”

“I’m surprised you would believe this idiocy…that the Whites live at a distant land.”

Kusla could not help but look at Fenesis in his clutches, and she widened her eyes.

Even if it was for the sake of convincing them and stop them from proceeding further, he could not simply ignore these words.

Fenesis’ entire tribe was persecuted, and she, the lone survivor made it all the way here. One would assume her only solace was the knowledge that the descendants of the Whites might be still alive.

Kusla said furiously,

“Hey, enough with the irresponsible words.”

“I understood just from hearing a summary of what happened.”

“…Really…I’ll hear your grand opinion then.”

What would he know when he knew nothing about alchemy?

Instead, Kusla’s interest was piqued, and he wanted to know was sort of strange logic Alzen would have.

“They perished. None of them is alive.”

Who would have readily agreed in the face of such a brazen opinion?

“Your reason? What’s your proof?”

“Of course, I investigated about the nature of the sun fragments back in Abbas. Assuming that the town was destroyed on purpose, it’s very likely that it was through the fire herb created from the sun fragments, no? The whole situation would be difficult to explain if you had started under this assumption, because lots of fire herbs would be needed to do this.”

Kusla had once explained this to Poldorof, and Alzen probably heard from the latter. Despite that, he obtained a different conclusion from them, despite the similar understanding.

Kusla thought to himself. He had considered that there was no other possibility.

“I already felt it was strange. You have made it this far, so how could you not have realized that, but I realized after the talk that it’s because of youth. Say, if the Whites lived on a distant land, what were they doing the?”

“What? You’re asking…what were they doing?”

Kusla could not interpret Alzen’s question.

He felt that he was dragged along by the yoke.

“I-is there a need to ask? They had so many skills, and they’re definitely researching.”

And Fenesis, who was the same as the Whites, was thoroughly moved when she saw them toil in the workshop. No ordinary town girl would be interested in distillation, and her curiosity was likely to be due to her blood.

But Alzen glanced aside at Kusla, and gave a pitiful look of disappointment.

“The glided bird cries to be released, but does not need how to hunt no matter how its flies.”

Alzen gave a depressed sigh, and turned his eyes towards an unexpected person.

Irine.

“You should be the first amongst them to realize so.”

“Eh?”

Irine was obviously shocked to be mentioned, and so was Kusla. Weyland and Fenesis then looked towards her, and she shriveled.

“It is often said that status defines a person’s viewpoint. It wasn’t for long, but you were the leader of a town’s blacksmith guild, no?”

He was not asking a question without an answer, and Irine might have realized this, for the uneasiness vanished from her face. It seemed that a good commander not only had to command the troops, but also was capable of nudging people in the right direction.

Irine softly muttered,

“…I did once assume that the Whites might not have been researching.”

“Irine.”

Kusla called her name, warning her not to be overwhelmed by Alzen’s disposition, but Irine did not blink as she looked back at him, and clearly shook her head.

“Well…o-of course. I don’t think…this is a conclusion I would usually think of.”

“So what!? The Whites have their own technology, and most probably have enough curiosity. They’ll surely want to continue researching no matter where they are. It’s like how even if Weyland and I get chased out of a workshop, we’ll build another workshop as long as time allows, and we’ll grasp the structure of the tools and the methods. Aren’t the Whites the same?”

The frustration was leaking in his voice, but Irine did not back down. Oh you alchemists, she reined in her chin.

“I see. So this is the difference between me and you.”

The gaudy smile looked a little forlorn, for it seemed that she was reminded after a long while of the fact that alchemists and blacksmiths never got along.

“It’s true that given your abilities, you are able to create practical tools, even if they aren’t to our standards. The required materials can be smelted.”

“Then──”

“But…”

Irine interrupted the agitated Kusla, and spoke with the tone of a former guild leader,

“Have you ever thought of making your own things?”

“…Huh?”

Kusla asked.

“Let’s say, a hammer. It’s easy for you to smelt the iron, but what about the wooden part, the handle?”

“That’s a small matter.”

“Go make it, yes. Then, who’s going to chop down the wood to make the handle?”

“Th-that’s…”

“If you want to chop wood, you need an axe, and speaking of an axe, you need the skill to make blades, a sturdy bronze, which means you’ll need to build a furnace for high temperatures, so even if you know how to build one that can withstand so, it’s tedious to obtain the material called earth, and you need a scaffolding to ensure that it can be covered properly, so to do that, you need lots of thick ropes, and to make thick ropes, you need to grow lots of suitable plants, refine them, and you need to hunt animals if you want to build bellows, so are you hunting them with traps? With bow? Or raising them? Either way, it’s all very tedious, and requires lots of familiarity. But it’s fine, since you can learn them as long as you toil all night long, and you should be able to to prepare them. But listen up, the terrifying part here is that──”

Irine licked her lips.

“Everything made will be worn out, and you need to build new ones to replace them.”

Back in Gulbetty, Irine sat on the leader’s chair that was taller than she was, and shouldered the production of a town by leading the the blacksmiths. She was not a member of the workshop, and instead, stood at a position where she could observe all the craftsmen.

Irine was clearly a head shorter, but he felt himself looking up at her unwittingly.

He was an alchemist.

As long as he remained in the workshop, he could obtain various freedoms whenever he wanted.

“A blacksmith can’t survive by himself, and can only establish himself with the presence of others. If we want every blacksmith to survive, we need bakers, butchers, even people to rear the pigs. Sometimes, we may need to rely on some posturing bearded noble seated up there so that everyone can be rewarded properly.”

Speaking till here, Irine seemed to have regained her usual self, and the last line was obviously a dig at Alzen, but to Alzen, this little ribbing from a girl was simply a greeting to him that he could easily dismiss.

“Especially for alchemy research, that’s not all we have to do.”

They had various necessities ranging from massive ores, herb stones, gems to herbs, animal organs and so on.

Some in particular were only to be used for alchemy. Many more had to be obtained through transportation.

Truly, if one were to do everything by himself, he would have to build an entire country.

Kusla thoroughly realized his place.

He knew how blessed they were in this complicated web of organizations.

It was laughable to think that he could not trust anyone and could research on his own till this day.

“The Whites flew to a place where no one else was…maybe, but they couldn’t continue their research. Perhaps…there is a country somewhere in this world similar to us, but would their fates not be similar to how they are here?”

If that was the case, this journey was meaningless, and there was probably no capital of gold in this world.

But Irine did not look gleeful at the flabbergasted Kusla and company.

She said what she wanted, and folded her arms unhappily.

“But I’m not saying that the Whites did die.”

Everyone present looked towards Alzen again.

Alzen stroked his beard.

“It’s just the use of this logic. I manage the operations of a large force, so I have to pay attention to the flow of goods. I need to mobilize lots of resources, sometimes even the entire battalion, lest we wouldn’t be able to fight. This is the main reason why the Knights couldn’t conquer Latria over a long time. We might have lots of soldiers to attack, but we can’t feed them. So, if the Whites are still alive, and hoping to carry out their complicated research, they’ll never head to a place with people, and even if they did depart for somewhere, that environment is not conducive for research. By the flow of this logic,”

He took a sip of the wine that caused him to frown and complain that it was too spicy, frowned again, and said,

“Assuming that the Whites are still alive, and researching somewhere in this world we know of, we wouldn’t discover it. They would have occasionally needed some unique or extravagant item, which would have garnered attention. Does a bag of coins not ring when shaken? They would have to use their amazing skills for money, like making high quality bronze for sales, and would be so reputed that merchants would swarm. It is impossible for them to hide properly. Anyone living in this world will surely be involved with others. Alchemists may assume that they are isolated from society if they stay in the workshop, seeking the truth, but that is because their financiers are taking care of them.”

Kusla’s face contorted as he seemingly endured this pain, but he had to listen.

He boasted that he was an alchemist who revealed the truth to this world, but he did not understand the framework of this world at all.

“If there are a few passers-by seeking the Whites, they would have arrived at the end of this world, and that would mean that the Whites do not exist on this land we’re familiar with. Also, there are unbelievable signs of wreckage at the ends of this world. Is the conclusion not obvious now?”

The Whites were dead.

“But this might not be bad news entirely.”

Alzen regained his look as a ruler, gave Kusla and cold look, and sneered,

“This proves that your instincts are right.”

“…Mine?”

“You could tell from the power of the fire herb that there might be another reason why the town was burned down, no?”

“…That…is right.”

“I’m impressed. This isn’t sarcasm or complimentary. It is because of your conclusion that I was certain mine was correct.”

“…”

Kusla racked his mind.

He realized he was a blind sheep who saw nothing, but he obtained the torch called experience.

No alchemist would never fail.

The difference was simply an alchemist who could capitalize upon his failure, and an alchemist who could not.

And…

The moment he thought so, he realized the reason why Fenesis was so worried, the moment of the fowl stench occurred echoed in his mind.

“The Whites…”

Kusla’s parched throat croaked.

“Did they die of an accident?”

Kusla’s bangs were merely singed when the bag of foul gas was ignited, but that was an accident he was fortunate to escape from. He knew that, which was why he backed out of the experiment to cool his head off.

And no matter how he hated it, having been an alchemist for years, he understood that dangerous situations occur at dangerous places. Research itself was a matter of cutting one’s way through unknown territory, without a map or anything as a guide. It was commonplace for known items to be mixed together to form extraordinary effects.

No craftsman would never know of iron and sulfur, but almost none would know that it is tremendous by mixing iron and sulfur in water before igniting them.

And thus, they could only deduce.

Of course, he knew why Alzen would call it luck.

“If we assume that they used a little for experiment, and accidentally created something that could destroy everything in an instant…that will explain everything.”

The trading at this place used to surpass the South, so surely they could obtain lots of rich resources for research. Given the fact that the explosion occurred far from the town center, one could assume that they realized the inherent danger, and moved the workshop to the outskirts. Kusla and company had assumed it was because they had no choice, but it seemed there were various signs to begin with.

The Whites back then truly underestimated the power they had.

“This is what I think. I’d be elated to imagine something extraordinary, more potent than a fire herb. After all, no matter how one tries to hard the production of the fire herb, word will spread in war, when mass production occurs. When everyone has the same weapons, the difference will be the ease of usage. We’ll reign supreme if we have an extraordinary, powerful weapon. And…”

Alzen’s beard hid his smile as a ruler, and he looked out of the workshop.

“If that power can cause such wreckage, we’d have the world in our hands. After all, we’ll have to get on good terms with the Pope Himself.”

The next step, the next step, the next step.

Just like the interest (Kusla) that continued day and night without rest.

Such thinking was truly akin to an alchemist’s, but Kusla remained unmoved.

Cyrus and the people living on this land were seemingly released from the curse as the mystery of the Whites’ legend was solved, and Kusla too felt something released from his heart, before he felt any satisfaction. The Whites could fly into the sky, but even they could not break free from the structure of this world.

The fact made him feel that he had woken from a dream he should not have left.

It taught him that even if he tried to turn lead into gold through magic, unchangeable things would never change.

“Come, our alchemists.”

While Kusla was feeling lost, Alzen heartily said,

“Pack your bags. In order to escape our predicament, we have to first negotiate with the enemy; to ensure that it benefits us, we need to show the massive power we have. We’ll have to skirmish a little, so are you ready? Luckily for us, Abbas is fortified by walls, and has many great merchant guilds gathered, so we are financially set. We shall set camp there for a while, and raise our request. All you have to do is to exhibit your magic.”

There was no excitement to be heard in these words.

“How about turning lead into gold?”

Alzen’s words resembled sand mixed in bread.

Alzen was a practical person, and understood the logic of striking when the iron was hot.

But the sun had arrived at the mountain peak when he finished talking with Kusla and left the workshop.

He looked up, and seemingly spotted purple and blue crystals scattering aside the powdery silver sky.

It seemed this day would be colder than usual.

“We shall leave at dawn tomorrow.”

Alzen said, and quipped,

“Oh yes, and before then…reenact the flying technology to me.”

He looked a little gaudy, and if it was an act to show his great interest, that truly would be exemplary. Weyland merely smiled and agreed, for he probably realized that opposing Alzen would only cause him much harm, or that he truly believed Alzen had no malicious intent. It so happened then that other visitors arrived at the hut, so Irine and the knights left to assist somewhat.

Visiting the hut were Cyrus and the locals, who had food and fur blankets ready as thanks for solving the curse of this land, and also to personally witness the technology for themselves.

Perhaps Phil got Cyrus and company to visit just in case Alzen decided to use force and drag off Kusla and company, but it seemed their words were not a complete lie.

Kusla did not know if Alzen coveted this technology for himself, and shot a look to gauge the reaction. Alzen merely nodded a little, stating that it was fine.

And so, they decided on the time of departure, prepared fine dishes, and held a feast outdoors. Kusla prepared a torch, laid out the fur carpet, stacked rocks to form a simple furnace. Phil and Cyrus prepared the ingredients indoors, and Fenesis was busy with menial tasks as she hurried in and out.

Soon after, Phil and Cyrus served a large pot filled with ingredients.

The furnace fire burned wildly at this point, and wine was served before the dishes were done.

It truly resembled a feast, and to the locals, it was a day of celebration, for they had finally broken free from the curse. They probably heard from Cyrus beforehand, and though there was a language difference, they did shake hands with Kusla, Irine and Fenesis. Nobody shook Weyland’s however, for he was busy preparing for an experiment.

Kusla nonchalantly greeted them, ushered them to Phil, and went to a tree stump a little far away from the fire. He dusted the snow off his head, and sat down.

It might be a day of celebration to them, but to him?

His mood just would not improve.

Weyland proceeded with the experiment, and the locals surrounded him, watching every move he made excitedly. Cyrus translated what Weyland did for the onlookers. Alzen brought a chair out from the hut, and probably wanted to be part of that circle, but could only stretch his neck out given his position as a superior. Kusla witnessed everything.

Then silently, a silhouette appeared.

Kusla wondered that he might have chosen this spot, far from the others, just so that she would approach him.

“Too bad about the legend.”

Such were her first words.

“Why do I feel this is my line.”

“I…”

Fenesis merely said, and turned to look toward his side, so he nudged aside. Fenesis showed an earnest, happy expression, and gently sat by his side.

“I do not mind at all. I have said countless times that even if I am unable to meet them, it is the same as before. For you however, it might be a thread that snapped even after you worked so hard to obtain it.”

Kusla shrugged, and looked towards where Weyland and the crowds were.

“The legend ends here, but for the time being, someone did say that if we break through this trial, we can redevelop the town and revive the technology that destroyed it. There is still joy in this.”

These words sounded so hollow when said.

“Furthermore, it seems I can continue to research as I please, and I can send a few disciples to learn about various legends and superstitions all across the land.”

He tried to chime further, but he found himself fractured, like powder snow that could not be gathered.

He had companions in Fenesis, Weyland and Irine, who he did not have to worry about, and his freedom to research in the workshop was assured. Furthermore, he sought the technology that was so potent that it destroyed a town, which even the Whites failed to master successfully.

He felt a gentle breeze on his cheek, and a pair of eyes.

She remained silent, for she might have realized what he wanted to say.

“I am a child.”

He definitely would never say such a thing if it had been half a year ago.

Furthermore, the one next to him was a girl, whom eight out of ten would have deemed her a mere child.

“I already knew that though?”

And Kusla, met with this retort, glanced down at her.

Fenesis was not intimidated, and showed a matured smile.

“But I think this is just right as a man.”

“Huh? Not much development on the front, and you’re talking about men?”

Kusla retorted, and Fenesis gave him a childish glare.

“M-Miss Irine did mention so…I feel that makes sense.”

And it is not that I have not grown…or so she muttered.

“Heh.”

He haphazardly spread his legs apart, crouched down, and rest his chin on his hand, his elbow supported by his knee. Due to the height differences, he had to do so in order to get down to Fenesis’ eye level. Even their knees were of different heights.

But perhaps both of them were not too different within.

Kusla sighed with a pout, and heard a commotion from where Weyland and the others were. It seemed the bag started to float, and it might be a nerve wrecking situation to them the people who were completely unfamiliar with alchemy. Even though they had explained the situation beforehand, a few were terrified to the point of backpedaling, or even collapsed to the ground with wobbly legs.

Above the crowd was a bag with large heavy items tied to it, floating weakly.

“What Alzen wants to do is what anyone in this world will try to do. Prepare, execute, and plan again. Advance once a proper outcome is secure, and we shall continue on as long as we wish to, until our deaths.”

The bag might appear limp, but it certainly was floating in the sky

No matter how ugly it might look, people were still capable of miracles.

“…But that will not do, no? Is research itself not like this? And to be able to go all over to world to find various legends and superstitions…I do find that a rare opportunity.”

She was right.

He had to be elated with that.

“Yes, but, even so…”

Kusla shut up, and pondered for a while. He was unable to properly convey the feelings in his heart as words, for perhaps he was that immature.

“You aren’t doing a bad thing then.”

“Eh?”

In her shock, Fenesis asked,

“D-doing, a bad thing?”

“Yes, a bad thing, it doesn’t feel like a prank. What will happen if I find this answer? How will reality change? Will I clear the eyes of the kind people? Can I dismiss the uppity ruler as a chump? Can I flip the palm of God who toys with the fate of Man, mocking them? I don’t have the excitement to do so. Or maybe…”

Kusla recalled his conversation with Alzen.

It was an inevitable reality that they supposed the dreams of alchemists from the sidelines.

“I used to think that with alchemy, I could do anything, and topple anything, but maybe that thinking is an illusion. The Whites managed to achieve such a miraculous accomplishment, but they still can’t escape the framework of this work and obtain their freedom. They definitely suffered lots because of this.”

They were persecuted, yet they would have surely appeared at a certain town, and caused a repeat of things. This certainly was not because they optimistically believed that they might be accepted if they went to another town beyond the mountain range, but due to a more boorish reason, that if they wanted to continue their research, they had to stay at a sufficiently vast town.

“I thought that no matter how foolish the dream might be, alchemy could fulfill that. Don’t think it’s a very childish and foolish idea? But you see, isn’t that Weyland fooling around like a sniveling brat?”

The bag had risen past a coniferous tree, and the heavy items tugging down resembled a diagonally falling teardrop. Weyland had forgotten to explain to the locals, for he too watched wide-eyed at the bag that was changing positions left and right. The assisting knights and Irine too looked dumbfounded.

The bag was finally torn after it could not handle the weight anymore, the heavy items fell from the tall skies, the snow piles splashed hard due to the impact.

“Haha. He fell on his bottom.”

Weyland never thought of dodging until the items arrived, probably because he was too focused on observing. He fell, and was completely covered in white snow. While the onlookers caused a ruckus, Irine and the knights lifted him with wry looks.

“I sure was told to grow up.”

People often said so to him when he did his own experiments even though he was under the jurisdiction of the knights.

Back then, he truly assumed that he would lose his freedom if he did what others told him.

But at this point, he could obtain his freedom to experiment if he obeyed Alzen, and his companions’ safety would be assured. It was not too long ago that he realized this was the Magdala he sought.

If that was the case, what else could he seek?

Was there anything else worth the effort to keep going?

Surely not.

After all, it was his destination.

“I even wondered why Alzen wasn’t a reasonable, annoying person. If he was, he’d become an enemy I’ll have to defeat for my own freedom, no?”

Thus, he could continue to remain a mischief maker, and continue down the path no ordinary adult would ever walk down, all in the name of revenge against those who toyed with their fates. He could thus excuse himself and push on if he had a simpleton of an enemy.

“You really are a child…”

Fenesis noted in bewilderment, and Kusla could not retort.

“Well, Weyland’s probably more curious than me, if we’re measuring by that.”

Weyland started chatting passionately with the locals who were gathered around him, ignoring the fact that he had a pile of snow on him. Cyrus had to act an interpret, but given that he was holding the torn bag, surely they were discussing how to make a durable bag that could withstand such weight. Once the objective was obvious, languages might not be absolutely necessary.

Kusla watched their discussion from afar.

He pondered if he could be as enthralled as Weyland was.

For he never thought about what he would do if he arrived at a place he could not progress from.

How should he continue with his research in the future?

“Once we reach the land of Magdala, we’ll see the technology that can resist the world. But to me, I don’t really think that there’s anything more I want to do.”

Kusla said with a dry chuckle, and Fenesis frowned unhappily.

He patted her head.

“Well, since we have to live, there’s always something to do. We should be able to gain motivation once we get started, and it’s like what you and Irine said, it seems I’m always thinking too much.”

He stood up, and said,

“Let’s have dinner then.”

But Fenesis did not stand up, for she looked at Kusla with a teary face.

Kusla shrugged a little.

“My blood might boil with excitement if Alzen said something like wanting to destroy the Church or something. It might be good news to you too, right?”

Fenesis was dubbed as one with the cursed bloodline, and anyone who had seen her ears might have treated her a little better if not for the existence of the Church, even if they might have prejudices on their own.

But even the Claudius Knights could not do so.

Thus, the imagination of an alchemist, often deemed as a heretic, might not be a bad thing.

“…I dislike that.”

Fenesis finally showed a tense smile, and stood from the stump.

“I do not wish for anyone to encounter danger, either myself…or others.”

Fenesis said as she reached out, touching Kusla’s cheek. There was some cracked skin on his already damaged face, due to the poison of the white bear.

“Is it not enough to simply living simple, stable days?”

Kusla could not help but frown hard while Fenesis gently caressed him.

“I’ll feel useless.”

“Then as Miss Irine had said, you truly are useless when it involves me.”

Such words were sufficient for him to imagine how the usual conversations between those two girls usually went.

But she probably was not wrong here.

“How foolish.”

Kusla said, and grabbed her by the shoulder. She would tense up whenever he did so, only to relax and soften. He would be absolutely foolish to say that he loved it when she did so.

“Also, I did learn something about the angel’s legend.”

“Learned something?”

“There can be many viewpoints over the same subject. While there are so many interpretations of the legend, each and every one of them seem so real to me. Maybe there might be a fourth interpretation that will excite you.”

Truly, Alzen’s view might be more convincing than Kusla and company. They could not rewind back to a century ago to ascertain, so everything could only remain buried in the sands of time.

It seemed Fenesis really wanted to talk about something a little different however.

“What might seem a completely uninteresting life to you might be very interesting from another perspective.”

Kusla turned to look at Fenesis in his clutches, and saw a clear smile.

Such a smile would never be shown if one were to live a life where they had to grit their teeth and believe that the truth laid beyond the mountain.

“…Yes, maybe.”

Kusla responded with a faint smile, and Fenesis nodded while beaming away, affirming so.

Kusla looked up towards the starry sky. Even for a dull starry sky, the people of the past knew how to name them and draw pictures for entertainment. Some would even use the positioning of stars to prophecy the fate of a person. They truly were people who knew how to enjoy life to the fullest in this world.

He exerted a little more strength in his arms as he hugged her, and pulled her face close as though he was going to bite her head off.

“Thanks.”

She lowered her head slightly, and one had to wonder what face she made, for she buried it into his clutches.

He could imagine so however, and could make various explanations.

Truly, there were many things he could enjoy.

So he thought as he went towards the rowdy crowd at the feast. Fenesis had been leaning on him in a strange posture the entire time, and one would have assumed he was taking care of a sick child. The notion that she might be sick was not a bad thing at all, and so he chuckled.

The world would change along with the changing perspectives.

Perhaps it too could be changed as much as lead turning into gold.

The atmosphere at the feast was bustling, probably because of the alcohol, or the excitement people had after seeing the technology of flight, but looking at the situation, it did not seem to be the case.

“We need a large bag to fly into the skies, but if we try to sew or glue it, it will ultimately break because of the weight, or even leak. We need to find something that can become a large bag…that’s why we prepared a deer’s bladder. We heard the Whites too had the same idea~.”

Weyland drank his wine as he fiddled with the deer bladder that was torn at its seam, and continued talking, probably because he noticed Kusla’s arrival.

“The locals asked what this bag is for, so I told them what it was, and they say there’s something more suitable. It’s from a prey even a normal hunter can’t handle.”

The considerate Phil served Kusla wine.

“It’s said to be a large male deer resembling a shovel, so tall that a person has to look up. It has large, trunk-like limbs, so all arrows seem powerless against its skin and flesh.”

“They also said that they could occasionally catch some who accidentally fell to their deaths in the valley, but the Whites should be able to catch them~.”

Once they pieced the fragmented truth together in the correct manner, everything would start to fall into place.

This would be one part.

“With the fire herb?”

“Or maybe something more potent~.”

If the fire herb could be used for war, it would not be strange that it could be used for hunting.

Also, the impression the Whites had was that they were more suited in dealing with prey, rather than humans.

“In that case, this land is the place where all the ingredients to fly into the sky are gathered.”

“Though their purpose is still a mystery~.”

Kusla bit on the still somewhat raw jerky, and shrugged at Weyland.

“Just out of curiosity, maybe?”

“If we’re following this trail of that, I think it’ll be more of that~.”

Weyland said as he pointed his index finger.

“That?”

“Maybe they’re trying to fly into the sky to catch the stars~.”

Fenesis stood next to them, holding a mug as she slurped away, and looked up at the sky in realization.

It might sound like a daydream a girl would have; how believable would it be in reality?

“At the very least, I heard that there are people who live on terrifyingly high peaks, and can see birds that fly higher.”

“Now then, did they build their tools here, intending to fly into the high skies~?”

“They’d die if they fell.”

“But didn’t they die anyway because they misused the sun fragments~?”

Weyland was completely correct.

“And this isn’t the only reason why I think so.”

Weyland showed a strangely gleeful smile as he said so, not because he was drunk.

It was an overly joyous face.

Kusla and Fenesis exchanged looks, and someone suddenly shoved something over.

“Woah…ah? A towel?”

On closer look, it was Irine.

“You’re going too, no? Take your own.”

“Go? Where? At this time?”

Were they actually departing for Abbas at this time? Kusla was mystified, and he then noticed that the locals, who were seated on the ground before, took the fur they had sat on, dusted off the snow, and folded them.

The escorting knight held a torch, and a few men carried wine vats. They did not carry any belongings, even though they were traversing at night, and with Phil leading the pack, the others followed to an unknown destination.

What’s going on? So Kusla wondered, and Fenesis tugged at his sleeve.

“We shall know once we head over.”

She smiled heartily, but her eyes appeared to be melting.

“Hey, you drank too much.”

“Fufufu…”

She did not seem to mind, but on second though, this might be perfect given that they would be going to a cold place together.

“Damn. Fine. Let’s go.”

Kusla pulled her hand, and followed the ranks at the back.

The sky was starry, but the moon was beyond the mountain, and it was completely dark. A trail of men moved on with the few torches they had, and it seemed like a dream. The accompanying calm was met with the unique rustling of feet upon the snow, which increased this feeling.

The file moved towards a certain place through the cold, tranquil night, and It seemed very possible that if they stopped and looked around, there might not be anyone.

Kusla held Fenesis’ hand firmly to ensure that she did not get lost. And definitely not because he was worried that he would lose her by accident.

He might be rather intoxicated himself if he could actually assume so seriously, and while he was dumbfounded by this notion, the file finally stopped after they had walked for quite a while.

A few were holding torches, but the night was so dark, he could only determine the silhouette of his outstretched hand.

Kusla could not determine where he was, and so he narrowed his eyes at where he came from, only to find a fire rising from the hut at a really low spot. Also, he could see a few more fires from the plaza, and finally understood where he stood.

“Is this the edge of the temple?”

They were at the place where the land was raised, the edge of the crater. They kept staring at their feet in the darkness, ensuring that they did not trip over as they advanced, and never noticed that they walked up a slop.

But why this place? Feeling skeptical, he saw every human begin to spread the fur towels and carpets, and sit down. They then extinguished the torches in hand.

The forces in front seemed to start serving wine, so Kusla quietly waited for wine to be served to him.

Before he received the wooden mug, he asked as he had to wait for far too long.

“What are we doing next?”

Phil was scooping into the wine vat a knight was carrying, and he was stumped.

“You don’t know?”

“I only heard that I need to bring the fur towel along.”

“Oh, well then. Anyway, drink up. It’s really cold here.”

“I feel really unmotivated to come to such a place.”

The crater centered around the temple appeared to be a swamp with black water gathered in it.

“Actually, we’re just here because it’s the highest place on these plains. We’re not looking towards the temple, but there, the north.”

“The north?”

Once Phil said so, he realized that the crowd was facing north.

“It’s hard to see without the moon, but have you not seen how rugged the col is? You can see the northernmost place from here.”

The torches were extinguished, his eyes slowly got used to the darkness, and there were countless more stars in the night sky.

Kusla did as Phil said, and looked down. Truly there was the silhouette of the mountain, seemingly cutting off part of the starry sky.

“In this cold, clear night, before the moon raises, you can see the northern skies. Like this night, for example.”

“You can see it?”

“I too found it unbelievable when I read it in books, but…”

It was unknown if Phil was intoxicated, or that it was his habit as a bookworm, for he showed a smile of much intent.

“So even if that lord Alzen refutes your guesses, I still believe…that maybe, the Whites are living in a certain world far from ours.”

“Hey…I don’t understand what you’re saying…what’s going on?”

“It’s a holy curtain.”

“Huh?”

“If the Whites flew for a higher, further place, that has to be where they are looking for. That’s what the locals said, and truly, that might be the case. One might also say that they flew in from there, but that does not make sense. If they did not come from there, where were they headed?”

Phil ignored the fact that Kusla might not understand as he prattled on, lost in his own thoughts. Kusla was a little incensed, but he realized that Fenesis, wrapped under the same blanket, moved a little, and his attention was directed to her.

She grabbed his abdomen, rather forcefully in fact.

“Ow…h-hey, what’s with that…”

Kusla’s protest against Fenesis ended there and there, for she was staring intently at a certain spot, stunned. He too was affected by her, and looked north.

For the first time in his life, he felt that if the world was such a boring place, it surely was because his own eyes merely saw boring things.

“This is a veil of light covering the sky. Can you believe it?”

Phil sounded so gleeful, as though he was the one who discovered so.

However, it surely was because whenever one saw such a mysterious sight, one would be so moved, it was as though one had seen it for the first time.

Beyond the col was a veil of light, fluttering away, as though swaying with the wind, scattered through the silvery powder sky.

“Are my eyes…seeing things?”

He could not help but mutter so.

“No, the view from here will be more majestic further north. This place only allows us to see the horizon. It’s said that a brave once went far north, and saw the veil right above him.”

What exactly was that sight? Kusla could not imagine. He did remember the written records of adventuring sailors, that anything could happen in the North.

Kusla finally understood the meaning behind Weyland’s words. If there was a veil fluttering from the sky, there had to be some secret beyond. Anyone would have assumed so, their curiosity beckoned like a cat.

“The locals too tried to imagine and interpret what those are. Most assume there’s a land of giants in the sky, and this veil is the window leading to a person’s house.”

“I guess both Northerners and Southerners think there’s something that lies beyond the sky.”

“Because they appear in our eyes when we look up…and, various things fall from there.”

Rain and snow aside, there was thunder, and of all related stories, there were often mentions of frogs and fish falling from the sky. An alchemist once wrote that in a humid summer day, there were large clouds that would appear suddenly, seemingly on the verge of collapsing, that there surely was a castle in the sky hidden in there.

Since nobody could head forth to ascertain, people surely could interpret at their own whims.

Even the Church was unwilling to let people ascertain if there really was a God beyond the clouds.

“Did the Whites really investigate if there are people living in the sky?”

“That’s definitely it.”

Phil paused, and then continued,

“It’s easier for us to dream.”

Phil was not a book merchant who loved to daydream, but one who knew how to dream.

“I too once heard of a story…of a castle in the sky.”

Fenesis finally seemed to have recovered from the riveting moment before her as she muttered so. She hushed her voice, for it seemed she was worried the veil of light would disappear if she spoke loudly.

“I suppose that certainly is beautiful.”

Fenesis was about to fall into dreamland, probably due to the intoxication and the warmth of the blanket, emitting an urge to taste her innocence.

“There’s no way it exists.”

“…Eh?”

“If there is any damage or flaw here, it is almost impossible to ferry the materials there. Alzen did mention something similar, no? The most common explanation is that if there really is a fort, then this city in the sky will have a completely worn down castle, and nobody lives inside, right?”

Kusla asked Phil to back him up, and the genial Phil gave a gaudy smile.

“It’s a pity.”

Fenesis looked at them, and gave a truly despondent look.

Not because Kusla teased her in the spur of the moment; there was still some proof that could back his claims.

“Actually, the skies do occasionally drop fragments of a castle.”

“Fragments?”

“Castle fragments. In other words──”

Kusla chimed in, and suddenly recalled the experiment just now. When Weyland added more weight and had it float into the air, it then fell. He managed to avoid the danger in the nick of time, and the heavy item fell to the ground, as the law of the world dictated. Back then, the snowflakes fluttered, the heavy objects, the large hole that appeared on the school, a certain large item, and also, the idea of flying into the sky to affirm if people truly lived there.

At that moment, the world seemed to end.

In other words?

Kusla stopped talking before he could continue.

Suddenly, he felt that everything was connected in his heart..

The arrows pointing in the correct direction could be seen everywhere.

Thus, all that was left was to figure out how to interpret the world.

“Then…?”

Fenesis’s perturbed response suddenly caused time to move. Kusla suddenly stood up, Phil lost his balance in shock, and the knight carrying the wine vat tumbled back, spilling the wine.

Kusla however ignored everything else, and he probably would not pay any heed to a torch landing on a fallen fire herb

His eyes could only see what he should see.

Those were all memories, a book called experience.

There could be many explanations pertaining to the legend of the Whites, and none of which could be deemed as absolutely correct. If it was said the large hole on this land was caused by the fire herb, the required numbers, power and production methods would not make sense. Thus, the notion that a failure occurred when they tried to create a new destructive technology sounded so convincing. As Alzen had said, the fire herb might have been used to hunt large deer that looked extraordinary, and naturally, their bladders were a necessity in the quest to fly.

It was all reasonable.

But as Fenesis had said, it was not a certainty that there might be other opinions on the entire matter.

So, if the entire assumption was wrong, so what? What if the Whites never caused such a large hole on this land to begin with?

Kusla and company had been obsessed with how the Whites caused the creation of that large hole, how it was possible to create the legend, but the event that occurred might not be correlated to the technology at all. One could realize that from Cyrus’ joy when he heard the curse of the Whites was solved.

An unreasonable, perplexing fact could be done once again with this technology. Did he not heave a sigh of relief after hearing so?

Was the purpose of alchemy not to unravel the hem of God’s mystery? Was it not to believe that the world could be understood?

In that case.

Could one also assume so, given the impression one would have of the Whites?

Were the legend of the Whites not to console the locals who were ravaged by a great tragedy, and to create something through facts they already knew of? Thus, it ended up with something theoretically possible, coinciding with the reality, as though a rough framework had been formed.

If the Whites were no the protagonists in that legend. What if they were the party that so happened to be caught in the coincidence?

By this thought process, Kusla sensed that he understood what the Whites were aiming at. They definitely were not unreasonable Gods who did not know the hearts of men. If they too were like Fenesis filled with various emotions and a hereditary curiosity.

They surely would do so in the face of the unreasonable world.

Kusla felt an urge to tear up once he imagined that sight.

The courage and curiosity of the Whites who stood tall moved him to bits.

“Alchemy.”

“…Eh?”

He grabbed the perturbed Fenesis on the shoulders, hugged her with all his strength, let go, and showed a sly sneer of interest ‘Kusla’ on his face as he said to her who was wide eyed.

“I always wondered why those things were all classified under alchemy.”

“Eh? Eh?”

Kusla darted off.

“E-erm!”

He completely ignored Fenesis’ call, nor the stares of all that were present. He was uppity, lost in his thoughts, and merely ran off to his own objective. He flailed his arms, kicked the snow, his chest burning as though there was fire inside, but it was due to excitement.

“Haa, haa!”

He panted as he arrived at the entrance of the temple, and pulled out the dagger on his waist. One had to wonder how it was like, but whenever people went down the stone steps, the murals of the Whites depicted on the walls would appear hazily. Fire pillars rose by the side, and the Whites looked towards the sky with emotionless faces.

Kusla had a feeling he had seen these murals somewhere before, but it was to be expected. He could not see his face since he had no mirror by his side, and he could only see his sidelong face through his companions in the workshop, if they were there.

“I never thought they would be so similar to Fenesis.”

He was not referring to the faces, but the feeling of being bound to something, the heart falling for it, the mood of one trying to understand with one’s own senses.

Since they were existences an alchemist could see themselves in, he should have realized so right at the beginning. They were not gods who were heart to imagine, but that they believed there would be a discovery beyond, and gave their utmost in trying to understand.

“In that case…the part about smelting…”

Kusla wiped the sweat off as he knelt before the mural, backhanded his dagger as he stabbed down.

A clang echoed from the frozen ground, and after a second, third time, he scraped at the cracked ground. He then continued to swing the dagger down. While doing so, he heard footsteps from behind, and before they could voice out, he yelled,

“Help me out!”

He never stopped the entire time as he continued to stab at the ground, dug up the loosened ground, and soon after, his fingertips ached with a sharp pain due to icy numbness. He did not mind however, even if nobody else helped him.

Kusla continued to dig, lost in his objective, his calm mind smiling wryly at himself.

It was no wonder these people were all flabbergasted. They had assumed they were there to observe the mystery of the sky, yet someone started digging at the ground, and everyone else might have deemed him a lunatic.

It did not matter however. That was the life he lived till this point, and surely it would be in the future…

So he thought, but there was suddenly a descending angel opposite him──naturally it was a hyperbole.

Fenesis had put her torch aside, scowling, and started reaching for the rather large hole, digging the dirt out.

“Do…explain…later!”

Her diminutive self did not have long arms, and she had to sprawl on the ground to dig the earth out.

Kusla chuckled as he saw her like this, and also smiled at her empathy.

“You’ll understand immediately.”

He was absolutely confident, and this moment soon came.

Klang! His dagger hit something.

“Eh…”

Fenesis stopped once she heard this.

“I-is this…the sound of iron?”

Saying this was Irine, who arrived behind them.

“Why isn’t it the sound of a dagger hitting a rock~?”

Weyland asked, and Kusla’s smile resembled a beast primed to bite its prey, his fangs bared.

“Ah, damn…see, I said so, didn’t I…?”

Kusla muttered as he dusted the item his dagger hit, and continued to loosen the soil.

There clearly was a hint left by humans.

“Hey, what happened, alchemist!”

Alzen, unable to simply walk over like the common peasants, had hurried over, and he bellowed from the entrance. Kusla ignored him however as he continued to dig, and affirm.

There was an arrowhead carved onto it.

Where was it pointed at?

Kusla looked up, and could clearly see the faces of those standing at the entrance.

“Mr Cyrus.”

While everyone present waited for Kusla’s explanation with bated breath, he called for this name.

“Y-yes…”

“Was the drawing originally here? Or did you draw it when you built the temple?”

“Eh? Ah…we had a wandering artist do so when we built the temple…”

“How does that person look like?”

“Huh?”

Kusla repeated his head, and Cyrus tapped his head a little, trying to rack his memories.

“Eh…it happened twenty years ago…but I remembered his hair was a rare black, and strangely soft and airy. He was a tall chap, skinny too…he always had a smile on him, it seemed, but on closer look, it didn’t look like a smile. He seemed to be a well traveled artist.”

So what? Cyrus looked skeptical, but Kusla’s eyes turned towards Phil.

“How about it?”

The words reminded Phil.

“Wait…”

“Yes, the one who drew this was the teacher of yours who disappeared──Korad Abria.”

Phil naturally did ask Cyrus of Abria’s whereabouts, but he probably asked if a heretical inquisitor had come to this land, or if anyone had come by to investigate the legend on this land.

But what if Abria had already arrived at this land before Cyrus’ arrival, and had read through many books to the point where he did not need to ask the locals? He was the one who left clues for people seeking the angel’s legend, and the murals drawn by him were too reminiscent of an alchemist’s, surely there was some intent.

“T-then, where’s the teacher?”

“Over there.”

Kusla confidently pointed the dagger at where Phil and the others were at, so everyone turned back dumbfoundedly. It seemed as if Abria was standing behind.

Kusla gave a bemeaning, vile laugh.

The deplorable alchemist’s laugh was of one who was thinking of how to overturn an ordinary person’s common sense.

“To the South. He went after the Whites who intend to stun the world with their research.”

“South? Eh? No, but…”

“Hey, enough nonsense.”

Interrupting them was Alzen’s vice-like voice.

But this time, Kusla showed no timidity.

He postured a sneer as he exhaled a burning breath through his teeth.

“We’d have known if it’s the South. I already said it, didn’t I? Even if they’re around, there’s nothing worthy for them to research. There’s no way they can hide.”

“Yes, but you’re a commander, not an alchemist.”

Kusla said, and took a deep breath.

He turned around, for his partner was there.

“You want me to explain, right?”

“Eh? Y-yes.”

“But actually, you’re the one who told me that this world can be seen from various angles. That’s why people could hide at places far from others, quietly, without being detected. They can live peaceful lives even if they’re to research something that can overturn the world order.”

Fenesis looked confused as she looked back at Kusla’s eyes. She did not remember telling him so, and she was oblivious to it. Why tell me this? She looked a little hurt, as though she was teased.

But Kusla said,

“No, you know that. Think about it. You’re the one who taught me the secrets of alchemy. It’s like turning stone into iron, sand into glass, lead into gold, the world can change depending on the viewpoint. It’s possible to turn the world upside down. We did say this before. Aren’t there some people in this world who are worried if the world’s turned upside down?”

Fenesis widened her eyes, and they sparkled. A flash of knowledge appeared deep within those green eyes. Her lips quivered slightly, and her eyes were round, probably due to the excitement.

“There’s a reason why since history, people always thought that there were people living in the sky, or that there’s an old castle floating in the sky? That’s because fragments of the castle do fall from the sky. In other words──”

Stone and iron.

If there was something exceptionally large falling from such a great height, there would be no guarantee that a similarly heavy item fell into the snow.

A large crater was formed immediately, and the impact burned the houses.

And also, there were scattered metallic fragments nearby.

“It’s not a bad idea to think that it’s because of a castle in the sky, but let’s go a step further and make a wild guess, no? That’s what the wise sages of the past did. We look into the sky, there’s a moon, right? What if that’s not a hole on the lid called the sky, but a large object floating above us?”

They did discuss such topics before. The Church had been desperately trying to conceal these matters, and so such knowledge was uncommon, but anyone who had read the old books would have known of this hypothesis.

“Then, th-this is…”

Fenesis stared at the bottom of the dug cave dumbfoundedly.

“That’s──”

Kusla licked his lips.

“A star’s fragments.”

“Fool!”

Alzen was very agitated.

“What star fragments!? Enough nonsense!”

“Oh? So many you try to explain the planets’ paths recorded by the old sages as a commander? Those planets are well known for deviating off course. Mr Phil，you should be able to prepare something like a schedule, right?”

“Eh? Ah, yes, of course!”

Alzen pursed his lips as he glared at Kusla. Just as Kusla could only remain silent when faced with Alzen’s tall talk, Alzen could not refute Kusla.

“And assuming that the stars are balls floating in the sky, it explained perfect why the moon looks incomplete. If you make a snowball and light it by the side, you can immediately see it change and look incomplete.”

Behind Alzen, Cyrus recovered from his shock, and started translating to the locals.

The crowds started to yap away, becoming restless.

“B-but, what were the Whites researching this for? And you say it is a place far from here? They hid? I said that to research alchemy, you need to be at a place with many people, or are they researching the stars…something higher than the skies? That is,”

“It’s possible.”

Kusla looked back at Fenesis, who would only reel in surprise, on the verge of tears when she saw him smile.

But it was not due to sadness nor fear.

It was anticipation.

“At the monastery.”

“Ahhhhh!”

Yelling so was none after than Phil. His job as a book merchant entailed visiting where the books were, and in this world, many were either hidden in an alchemist’s workshop, or a monastery.

In a monastery, the subjects to be studied were,

Arithmetic, geometry, logic, rhetoric, grammar, music.

And astrology.

“Monasteries are always built far from people, and the people of the world don’t really pay attention to what they do inside. They do not really need complicated, fancy materials like alchemy. They simply need the patience to look into the sky, a blanket, wait, and maybe…”

A certain person as company?

Kusla glanced aside at Fenesis, who gasped.

“Just to note, if we deduce that the stars are spherical, we should be able to determine the path of these planets easily. In other words, these planets, just like the other stars, revolve around the sun.”

Kusla kicked the ground, and Alzen lost his balance for a moment, his escorting knight had to carry him.

Alzen looked gaudy, as though he was seasick, all because he was such a practical and open-minded commander, but such otherworldly words left him unable to comprehend.

“Do you think this is just some ridiculous fantasy? Such assumptions are forbidden by the Church though, lord Alzen. Do you know why?”

Kusla returned Alzen’s words right back at him.

And just as lead could be turned into gold, the relationship between master and servant had been reversed.

The Whites tried to attain this, the most inexplicable reversal of the world.

“It’s because the relationship between the skies and the earth will change.”

God created our land, and the stars follow obediently.

But if that was not the case, and that we were to revolve around the sun, like the other stars, where did God’s authority go to? Also, one would assume that the moon was in the heavens, but would it not be true if the reverse happened? Where then was the real Heaven?

The extremely simple questions nobody had investigated, the ones they had left in the lurch, suddenly exploded.

Where exactly was their exalted God?

If Hell was beneath their feet, would there be a Hell in the celestial bodies above?

“The Whites and their innate curiosity drove them to build overwhelming technology, and surely they had doubted the Church for a long time. Those were the ones who oppressed the Whites, and it would not be strange to assume that the Whites wanted revenge. The Church remained powerful, and could not possibly be burned by the dragon flamethrowers. According to stories relating to the Whites, such an act was unbefitting of the impression they had. It was truly just like them to be far from the crowds and investigate the movement of the stars, to prove if the stars were spheres. That’s the greatest form of alchemy. It’s bigger than turning lead into gold; that’s…that’s basically the creation of a whole new world!”

Kusla yelled with a smile on his face, his eyes widened as he forgot to blink, and once done, he stomped towards Alzen, who was held up by his knight. Before the knight could stop Kusla, Kusla grabbed Alzen by the collar.

“Now then, how about you assist our research? On the day we accomplish that, we can eradicate the Church that even the Claudius Knights couldn’t topple!”

Alzen was overwhelmed by Kusla’s ferocious vigor, and could not move, his eyes staring intently at Kusla like a man possessed.

Kusla shoved Alzen away, and let go.

He yelled at the dumbfounded onlookers,

“What are you doing there!? Go out and look at the stars! There’s proof of great alchemy before your eyes!”

He pointed outside, and Cyrus seemed possessed as he quickly relayed a few words.

The faces of the locals changed immediately, and they scampered out there.

A few knights too scampered out, and Irine too wanted to leave, but she stopped once she noticed how Weyland stood there. Cyrus too regained his mind once the locals left.

Left behind were Kusla, Fenesis, Weyland, Irine, Phil, Cyrus, Alzen and the knight supporting him.

“…You are lying, right?”

Such were the words demonstrating the difference between an alchemist and a blacksmith.

“And, isn’t that too much…of a guess?”

“Really?”

Kusla shrugged, and scratched his head.

” I realized something before we started this conversation. There was something amiss in the legend of the Whites.”

“Eh?”

“The glass~?”

Weyland said with a serious look, the usual sneer devoid from his face.

Such a reliable fellow, so Kusla chuckled.

“Irine, do you know what tools the monks would use when they want to enlarge something?”

“What? It’s…ah!”

“Yes, spectacles of glass. Think about it, the stars in the sky are so small, and even the moon is the size of a stretched little finger when full.”

The technology of flight was probably to observe from a closer position, or to see how the bag could fly, and determine the height of the skies.

“It seems there are still many incredible, new things in this world.”

Kusla said, and turned behind.

Fenesis was before him, and between them was a hole with a star fragment buried beneath.

The miracle was poking out from the icy ground, shining upon them.

“My ideal is to sleep in the land of Magdala, but it looks like I’ll have to leave that aside for now.”

“…”

Fenesis did not answer, and Kusla continued,

“You need to be awake at night if you want to observe the star, no? In that case ─”

“You’re an alchemist who doesn’t sleep~!”

Weyland interrupted, and Kusla kicked the dirt towards Weyland, just like his younger days. Weyland guffawed as he hopped by, and instead, it was Irine who got caught. Phil gave a wry smile as he kept his dignity as a merchant, and the already serious Cyrus looked flabbergasted. Alzen, still held up by the knight, appeared to be hungover.

Before him however was another alchemist, and a blacksmith and a book merchant who assisted them.

They were not to be trifled with.

“Damn, one of these days, I’m tossing him into a fiery furnace.”

So Kusla hissed, and he sensed the sound of a snowflake.

He looked over, saw Fenesis cover her mouth with both hands, giggling.

He wanted to continue with his pretentious attitude and let loose of his agitated emotions, only to be interrupted and awkward. He tried to suppress so, but Fenesis deftly crossed the hole, and arrived by him said.

It seemed she had just passed this part of the sky God might have once come across.

He never expected her to be so bold.

“You say so, but you will fall asleep accidentally if I leave you to observe alone.”

A gaudy looking Kusla looked tentative to speak.

In any case, he intended to rid himself of his moniker ‘Kusla (interest)’ and tell Fenesis of his real name, but that would have to stop for the time being.

“Yes.”

He reached his fingers, caressing Fenesis’ cheeks

“Partner.”

Fenesis beamed and nodded once she heard so.

And behind her, the Whites stared into the sky with stoic looks.

They resembled cruel gods, and also alchemists obsessed with research.

But to Kusla at this point, that sight of them seemingly admitted that the two of them were hopeless.

That is fine, so Kusla thought.

Was there anything wrong with reaching out for something as one’s heart desired?

Such stubbornness was a privilege of an alchemist.

Epilogue

They returned to new Abbas, and were met with a rapturous welcome.

But of all the exhilarated people, none were probably locals. There were three, four times the usual number of soldiers awaiting them, all of them soldiers Alzen had brought from the port city of Nilberk.

One had to wonder if Alzen had brainwashed them into thinking Kusla and company had amazing power, for they were all riled up. It seemed these forces had witnessed the miracle during their escape from Abbas.

Alzen bowed to Archduke Kratal, and then rallied the soldiers further. It would be hard for the soldiers to imagine that their superiors had intended to surrender to the enemy before the battle started.

Perhaps alchemy was an easier prospect to deal with compared to Alzen.

Of those living in Abbas, the most grim-faced was the ruler of the town, the head of the Poldorofs.

In fact, he probably would not be looking so dour if he knew that they had intended to negotiate before the battle started. Anyone would have been restless thinking about how their town would be a battlefield of defeat.

But once he heard from Kusla and the accompanying Cyrus that all obstacles to rebuild the old Abbas was gone, his focus was seemingly diverted from the upcoming battle, and instead on the planning of building a new town.

And so, days later.

Nilberk had impregnable walls and a port, and was a place suited for attack and defense that could last for years, yet Alzen deliberately abandoned it for the relatively rural Abbas, only to finally prove that his plan was completely correct.

The result was that neither force started fighting.

They dug holes at the entrance, buried as many fire herbs as they could, and waited for the alliance Southern nobles and the ex-pagans who had appeared to convert.

After the usual opening proceedings, it was Kusla who stood on the walls, reciting things an alchemist would say, threw a torch in an exaggerated manner, and there was an explosion that shocked even the offender himself, a large, burnt hole was the only thing left behind.

Looking form the walls, the enemy foot soldiers were all rooted, the horses rose in shock. Kusla was unspeakably giddy to see such a sight, and strangely, felt like those kings and nobles who were being adored.

Cross that hole if you wish to fight, he then taunted them, waited, and saw the enemy forces collapse.

This was the only actual part of the battle. Irine was a little displeased, for she, in charge of leading the pursuit, had maintained the dragon shaped flamethrowers bright and clean. She resembled a child who had just entered a workshop for the first time, yearning to use the tools she made, rather than a boisterous battle bruiser.

And as for the battle, the enemy sued for peace before Alzen could speak.

According to Alzen, it seemed the enemy did not want a ceasefire, but to surrender. Perhaps to them, they should be able to win this war if they could be allies with the forces led by Archduke Kratal.

Of course, it was not the case. They had hastened the extraction of sun fragments in anticipation for futures events, but no matter how they tried, they could only maintain a farce for another two, three times. As long as they limited their uses wisely, an unknown technology could become magic at any given moment.

The miracle and the curse too arose from it.

And as planned, Alzen requested to defect, and it went well.

Alzen however remained gloomy, probably not because he was unamused by how the enemy was terrified. The outcome was to be expected, but it took the nobles five days to negotiate due to all the focus on the proceedings, thinking that by doing so, both sides would maintain neutral.

And thus, both sides established their alliance and began to discuss their future plans, that since they finally arrived at this rural land, they should simply remain at this place and wait for the war to end, or that Archduke Kratal’s forces could retreat to their lands discreetly.

It was said that the location of their discussion had a large table with a scarlet table, with wine, stewed beef clod, roasted hare with herbs, various cheese, and freshly baked bread, eaten with silver cutlery. They chatted away, and the soldiers who ate and camped in the walls were surely cursing away.

The conclusions to such negotiations came on the tenth morning after Kusla and company returned to Abbas.

There was no bell tower in this town, but a bell was rang, informing everyone of an important decision.

It was a clear, still frigid day.

“Hey, you alchemists!”

Alzen opened the door unhappily. He was not at the underground workshop built by the Poldorofs when they sought for the Whites’ technology, but a base at the walls, a lounge in the spire. He scowled unhappily once he opened.

This place was originally meant to see if enemies were coming over the horizon, but as there were few battlegrounds, every town was taken as a warehouse.

And the floor of such a place was occupied by alchemists covered in blankets.

“Hey, wake up!”

Alzen growled impatiently, and finally, there was movement beneath a corner of the blanket.

A soft, white fur triangular ear poked out, and a sleepy Fenesis showed her face. She seemed to be feeling really cold, but a male arm reached from under the blanket, pulling the white hare back, and there was movement. It seemed the fellow who pulled her back was adjusting himself, trying to sleep better.

Alzen took a deep breath, snatched the spear from the escorting knight, and smacked the tip onto the floor.

“Wake up you fools!”

Fenesis once again poked her head from under the blanket, and she seemed to be fully awake, for she slapped the alchemist’s cheek.

“Ugh…hey…let me sleep…”

“I’m telling you to wake up!”

Fenesis shriveled in shock, and Kusla, annoyed by the noise, had to open his eyes.

“Huh?… I said I don’t need breakfast…”

Kusla opened his mouth, and pulled the pried blanket over himself once again. Again Alzen tapped the spear onto the floor, but Fenesis was the only one who shriveled. As for Weyland, he remained lifeless under his blanket.

“Such insolent fools…”

Alzen cursed, but nevertheless, he tried to regain his dignity as a commander.

“Anyway, to surmise, we finally made our decision this morning.”

Kusla and Weyland showed no response, and only the serious Fenesis looked back and forth worriedly between the commander and the alchemist who pretended to sleep.

“We’re going to break through the Knights’ bases and quietly return to our land. We might have to show miracles on the way again, so we have to continue gathering sun fragments for the time being. It’ll take us another three to four days to dig them all from the demon’s belly.”

The flustered Fenesis was caught between the calm sounding Alzen and the completely unresponsive alchemist. She made a little sneeze, and shivered.

And right on cue, Kusla pulled the blanket aside, grabbed Fenesis by the hand, and dragged her in.

In any case, Alzen had seen it all, it seemed, and he continued.

“And as you wished, we arranged to investigate the monasteries in the South. We’ll probably have to use the connections of the book merchant’s backer, the Jedeel Guild.”

Kusla probably wanted to warm Fenesis, or that he was feeling cold, for he embraced that white, petite body in his clutches, wanting to sleep. But right at this moment,

“And we have liaised with the glassmakers you spoke of.”

“What?”

Kusla jolted.

“Where are they? Can they get here immediately? You’ll bribe them with heaps of gold, right?”

Kusla closed in, and Alzen retreated with disgust.

The only thing more ridiculous than Kusla’s ferocious attitude was his terrible clothing.

“Hey…go take a bath later. You stink.”

Kusla and company had been cooped in this little room ever since they returned to Abbas. While Kusla did not mind, Fenesis hastily smelled her clothes.

“I heard those glassmakers’ privilege was held by another noble, so we can’t be too hasty.”

“Go negotiate!”

“Of course I plan to, but,”

Alzen paused, and Kusla closed in vengefully.

“No buts, we need their glass making expertise no matter what. There’s no need to explain the angel’s legend here, so what else is there to hesitate for?”

Kusla yapped away, and Alzen had enough,

“I’ve asked all I could. We should be able to get it done.”

Kusla continued to glare at Alzen, before he finally averted his eyes, and tumbled back to his blanket.

“…Is he still in a daze?”

He was asking Fenesis.

Kusla went under the blanket without a care in the world, and laid down.

“Goodness…that blacksmith girl is more active than you.”

Alzen seemed to be completely stupefied, and Kusla’s head turned around.

“Irine…is done with her tools?”

“I’m your commander, not your messenger.”

Alzen sighed, strode through the room, past them, and opened the wooden window.

“Hmph, nice view.”

As both the door and the wooden window were open, a chilling wind blew in immediately.

Fenesis shivered all over as though she was a cat splashed by icy water, and this time, she entered the blanket.

“Have you been observing like this every night? Any progress?”

Kusla did not answer, and Fenesis, whose face remained outside, hid due to awkwardness.

“It truly is a form of alchemy that can turn the heavens and the earth around. It’s truly hard to imagine.”

Alzen muttered, and let out clear white breath.

“That blacksmith girl’s sleeping soundly in the workshop, just like you. She’s making a tool that can observe stars from a ship, no? I guess she’s about done, because another scumbag has taken it out to do something.”

“Ah?”

Kusla finally showed his face from under the blanket, glared at Alzen, and looked towards the other blanket.

He silently raised his leg, kicked it, and found only a pile of blankets there.

“That bastard…”

“Did your companion have a headstart on you?”

Alzen’s mockery had Kusla frowning, but the latter, while trying to get up, fell sideways.

“…I’ll go investigate later at night…”

So he said, and the body under the blanket twitched.

“Hmph, anyway, this is what I want to convey.”

Kusla did not show a response.

Alzen was not angry in the slightest, and he crossed them, intending to leave.

And right when the knight was about to close the door, Alzen suddenly turned around.

“Speaking of which, isn’t your moniker the restless alchemist?”

There was movement beneath the blanket.

“Damn you.”

Alzen guffawed dumbfoundedly, and hurried off.

The door was closed politely, and silence dominated the place again. However, the wooden window remained ajar, and frosty air entered along with the vague ruckus of the town. It was the existence of daily life, full of life, the act of people reverting to the norm, and it would continue. Surely it was the same to the sun and the moon in the sky.

But just like how one could have many interpretations of the recorded legends, or seek another meaning to the bustling festivals of a city, the stars glowing in the skies too began to have a different meaning.

Once this research was done, most in this world would unwittingly experience a reversal of the world. They would know the land was not the center of the world, and the place they were on was no different from the moon.

Kusla could imagine mass hysteria just by closing his eyes. The Church would greatly lose their authority, and Alzen would surely think of seizing this opportunity in a way even an alchemist would be appalled by.

Of course, this research might not end in his generation, and it seemed the Whites had begun research on the skies a hundred years ago, but the results were obvious given how the world had yet to be upended. They were a little apprehensive by the gravity of this issue, but at the same time, they were filled with vigor.

Kusla embraced Fenesis firmly in his arms, smiling.

“…What is it?”

Fenesis asked.

“Nothing.”

Kusla answered flatly, and Fenesis did not pursue the matter. She nudged around in his arms, and sighed contentedly.

Actually, there was only one reason why he smiled.

The world was interesting, and shall continue to be.

The noise of the town, coming in from the ajar window, was increasingly louder.

The winter skies overlooking the town showed a faint white moonlight.

Afterword

It has been a while. This is Isuna Hasekura. I finally managed to finish this volume within half a year from the previous volume’s release.

The ending this time was something I had long thought of, and with much joy, I began to write. But then, I had some uneasiness…if I give too many clues, the readers will see through it first, and there won’t be any surprise. If I give too few clues, I’ll lose the readers’ excitement. I hope that at the ending, the readers will be shocked out of their minds.

Another thing is that, in this fictitious fantasy world, I do find something strange when writing more about the outside, like I feel it is a dream within a dream. Is this peculiar feeling however not similar for an alchemist’s story? Please allow me to say so with glee.

Also, we have a lot more of Fenesis and Kusla compared to before! It feels like they’re always hugging. Of all the protagonists I wrote, it feels like Kusla is the clingiest T.T. When coming up with the characters, I was sure Fenesis was the one who adored Kusla. This really is a mystery. At this point, clearing Kusla is an impotent who can’t not have Fenesis around. Irine was the one who ended up being the innocent girl I planned for. Just like experimenting, one has to write to know how things will develop. Even after writing for almost ten years, this is the discovery I have all this time.

Thus, after several volumes, the stories relating to the Whites have finally ended. However, do be assured this is not the end! The schedule next year is pretty crammed, and I will have lots of troubles. Once I finish this treacherous journey, I shall sleep in the Land of Magdala…

I earnestly hope you can wait for me with anticipation.

Let us meet again in the next volume.

End 2015. Isuna Hasekura.

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