Episode 37
“…….”
Paul stared blankly at his own leg.
‘My leg…’
It was there? And perfectly intact at that!
As if being devoured by a monster up to his thigh had been a lie, his leg existed in perfect condition.
Could all of this have been a dream?
But it could absolutely never have been a dream. The pants torn up to his thigh proved that all of this was reality.
Paul looked at the blue potion in his hand.
Mana potion.
It recovered enough mana to completely refill him, and that recovery was sustained continuously over time.
‘This is the all-purpose potion!’
Good heavens… a potion that replenishes mana?
The object alchemists had so fervently longed for was in his hand.
Though its recovery duration had ended and faded by now…
Even so, if this became known to mages, a tremendous uproar would occur.
No, the entire continent would be shaken!
The value of mages would rise, and the nature of wars occurring all across the continent could change 180 degrees.
If there were a country capable of mass-producing mana potions like this… with only mages and an army capable of protecting them, it might be able to dominate this continent.
Perhaps a great empire rivaling even the Holy Order would be born.
“It really existed! The all-purpose potion, and the one who possessed it…!”
The legendary alchemist! No, not an alchemist, but a demon.
Paul thought of Hun.
His appearance seen while losing consciousness.
It had truly been the form of a demon.
“…Could it be a potion made by a demon? But… it really is tremendous power. It’s like a miracle of the gods?”
Paul was astonished, yet filled with doubt.
‘No, could he really be a demon?’
If he’s a demon, why did he save me?
Paul thought for a moment, then shook his head.
To be exact, it hadn’t been ‘me.’ It had been ‘us.’
Paul looked at Lapilta and Albert, who had collapsed around the dark secret passage.
They were not unconscious in pain, but sleeping peacefully. They snored and scratched their bellies, sleeping so soundly.
Their bodies, injured by the Wight, were cleanly restored as if it had all been a lie.
***
The end of the secret passage led to a distant forest on the opposite side of the territory.
Loki, now wearing a crow mask, shook his head.
“…Did I treat them for nothing?”
He had used recovery potions on Paul, Lapilta, and Albert.
It had been a good encounter, but now his potions might become known to the continent.
Furthermore, by now, pursuers sent by Aum would likely be searching for Loki.
He couldn’t help but feel he had left behind unnecessary traces.
‘I need to find Yun Sirin as quickly as possible. Before I get entangled in any more strange incidents…’
“But…”
As Loki walked through the forest, he turned around.
“……?!”
A familiar girl was startled and hid behind a tree. Then she poked her head out slightly and glanced at Loki.
From her perspective, she seemed to be hiding far away and watching.
Looking at the Dark Elf, Sallet, Loki let out a small sigh.
For some reason, she kept following him.
‘Well, she’ll leave on her own eventually.’
Ignoring her, Loki walked on aimlessly.
***
A dark basement.
The only thing providing light was a lantern, clouded with damp moisture.
A priest who appeared to be eighty years old carried a lantern, wore his robe hood pulled up, and bore a large leather bag on his back.
He stepped down the stairs precariously, making his way to the basement.
Arriving with shuffling steps, he placed the lantern on a cabinet and rolled up his sleeves.
He worked a pump connected to a deep underground well and drew water up.
He filled a carefully crafted vessel with water and set it over a fire to boil.
Bubbling, cloudy steam rose.
“…Whew. It’s fine. I’m used to it now.”
The priest took a breath and plunged his bare hand into the boiling water.
“Ugh… guh….”
His hand flushed red from the scorching temperature, but he endured diligently and washed his hands with care.
Removing his hand, he finely chopped the herbs he had brought and placed them inside a mask.
He examined the mask carefully here and there.
A long mask shaped like a bird’s beak.
The eye areas were made of glass, and there was a breathing hole at the tip of the beak, but even that seemed difficult to breathe through because of the herbs he had just inserted.
But without concern, he pulled it over his head and wrapped his robe even tighter around it.
He donned leather gloves and tied his clothes firmly with leather straps.
After checking several times for any gaps, he nodded.
“Huu-, huu-!”
Perhaps because of the mask that made breathing difficult, his chest heaved greatly and his breathing grew rough.
Even so, in a familiar manner, he naturally grabbed the lantern and walked.
Walking down the long, dark underground corridor, he reached a door.
He set the lantern on the floor and stretched out both hands to force the steel door open.
As the door gap opened slightly, a thick, rotten stench seeped inside the mask despite the herbs.
The old man shook his head and opened his mouth.
“…Children. I’m sorry. There have been so many monsters around here lately that I was delayed trying to avoid them.”
The old man spoke with difficulty. But kindness suffused his voice.
The old man reached into his leather bag and took out two captured rabbits.
“They’re cute rabbits that you like. Rabbits are such pitiful creatures that they die if they get lonely. You didn’t like being lonely either, did you? So play with these little ones.”
The old man untied the rabbits’ bound legs and threw them into the dark room.
The rabbits were buried in the darkness.
And then…
—Squelch!
…Squeak!
A sound like tearing flesh rang out together with the rabbits’ faint screams.
And… blood splattered before the door.
—Kraaaagh!
Their forms were revealed in the darkness.
Small monsters with grotesquely twisted heads.
They charged at the priest.
But before they could reach their target, the chains bound around their necks flung them back inside.
Seeing that, the priest smiled bitterly.
“…It’s alright. I will heal you. So please endure a little longer.”
Leaving those words behind, the old man closed the door.
It was a day like any other for the priest, Alex.
***
Long ago, Sallet had spent blissfully happy days.
A grand palace, kind and gentle servants and maids. Sturdy soldiers standing guard from behind.
Everyone spent enjoyable moments smiling. Whenever she saw their smiles, she too understood how powerful her nation was.
From short dwarves, to long-eared fairies, to those with beast-like ears… various races had gathered for a single purpose.
Namely, a ‘home.’
They had gathered to possess a ‘home’ where they could feel at ease and dream of the future.
Her father had become their center, comforting and protecting them. He fought against human invasions.
To protect all those precious to him, he became king himself, went to the battlefield, defeated the invaders, and cared for his people.
Perhaps thanks to that, every nation on the continent feared the country in which she lived.
But that happiness did not last long.
In order to protect the people, a peace treaty was signed, and in keeping that promise, when they went to exchange prisoners, an ‘accident’ occurred.
—Kraaaagh!
—Monsters?!
—No, no! They’re undead! Stop them all!
No one knew how those beings came to be.
Undead swarmed the prison holding thousands of human prisoners, and they came outside and rampaged, destroying everything.
They were a race far stronger than humans. But even they were powerless before beings that could not be killed by sword or spear.
In an instant, the nation fell into chaos.
Her father, the king of the demi-humans, barely managed to repel the undead and worked to stabilize the nation, but the problem arose after that.
In the process of killing a monster called ‘Wight,’ not a single human prisoner survived, and the envoys of the ‘Holy Order,’ who had been sent as representatives of humanity for the peace treaty, perished as well.
Eventually, the humans demanded accountability.
Under the name of the Holy Emperor, all the people of the continent united and marched on her kingdom.
The happy nation turned into hell in an instant.
The streets echoed with the screams, wails, and sobs of the demi-humans.
In that cruel situation, only the humans ‘smiled.’
—In the name of His Holiness the Azellan Holy Seat, purge the heretics!
—Glory to the Azellan Church!
—The hammer to the heretics!
—Judgment upon the demons!
Demons? You are the demons!
Sallet saw that scene in its entirety.
The sight of all the people on the streets reduced to toys, to prey.
They defiled them, hung their corpses, and burned them alive.
Humans justifying cruel acts under the excuse of the Holy Seat’s grace.
Sallet ran as if fleeing, searching for her father.
Daddy? Daddy is…!
Sallet ran. If it was her father, he could drive them out. He could repel this disaster and return them to those happy times.
To her, her father had looked as great as if he stood in a position equal to the gods!
Because the strongest spirit, Ifrit, was with him too!
But her wish did not come true.
—…Da…ddy?
All she found was her father’s corpse, gruesomely torn apart.
At her vacant murmur, the humans looked at her and spat out a word.
—…Seize her.
She fled desperately.
To the point where only the memory of somehow escaping the palace and running until she lost consciousness remained.
When she came to, her home, the nation called Hanes, had burned to ash and been destroyed.
So she was….
—…Hey… you.
Sallet gently opened her eyes.
—Hey!
“……?!”
Sallet looked at the faintly burning fire spirit before her.
Though its body was covered in flames and touched the tree branches, the tree did not burn.
Even in the falling rain from the sky, the fire spirit silently evaporated the raindrops and looked at Sallet.
—How long are you going to sleep?
At the displeased voice, Sallet rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand.
Sleep still threatened to overcome her from fatigue, but if Ifrit had woken her, there must be a reason.
“…How… long did I sleep?”
—About ten minutes.
“Is… that so?”
To clear her mind, Sallet forced strength into her heavy eyelids and shook her head.
She had briefly rested in a tree to prepare for monster or beast attacks, and now she looked at the sky.
It was still night. The moon was hidden by dark clouds, and rain continued to fall.
The ragged clothes no different from those worn by slaves were soaked by the rain, stealing her body heat.
Her body trembled, making her feel physical fatigue to the limit.
She wanted to sleep more.
In fact, she could have slept comfortably.
With an elf’s mobility, vision, and hearing, finding a nearby cave wouldn’t have been difficult.
Sallet seriously contemplated it.
Because she wanted to sleep properly.
—He left.
But at Ifrit’s single word, her mind snapped to attention.