Chapter 22
The Forest’s Minion (1)
Somewhere deep within the Great Forest of the Eternal Forest.
Dozens of trees had intertwined and twisted upward to form a colossal pillar.
The place looked as though nature itself, longing for the World Tree that had vanished in ancient times, had forcibly fashioned a crude imitation of it.
Beneath it were spaces roofed with tree trunks, spread out like an ant colony. Among them was one chamber whose entrance was completely blocked by roots.
“Gasp!”
Sael’s eyes flew open.
She lost her balance and fell from her chair, but the small Wicker Men standing on either side caught and supported her.
Twenty minutes later.
“Thanks.”
Sael panted heavily. The burden placed upon her body was far from minor.
Losing the root giant was one thing, but completely losing the substitute Wicker Man she had poured her heart and soul into creating had dealt her a tremendous shock.
The magical link formed with her substitute connected not only their five senses but also their mana circuits.
From Sael’s perspective, she had been forced to endure the shock of mana that had suddenly lost its destination surging backward into her body.
“Ugh! Ah… Cough!”
The Order’s residence contained a large central chamber. It was only spacious enough to hold two or three inns, but that was more than sufficient for the officers to gather.
Sael curled up in pain. A thick trail of blood ran from the corner of her mouth.
After barely making it through the worst of it, she pressed a hand to her forehead and desperately began taking deep breaths.
The meeting would begin soon.
She could not allow the others to see her in such an embarrassing state.
Chairs surrounded a long wooden table, each one bearing a distinct design. Sael sat in a chair covered with tree roots, lost in thought.
“What are you thinking about so seriously? Did something unpleasant happen?”
It was Raleid, the Sixth Branch, sitting across from her.
Her body was covered by a dress woven from red petals, and she sat upon a chair decorated with magnificent poisonous flowers. She giggled as she looked at Sael.
Judging by appearance alone, they could have passed for an older and younger sister.
Sael glanced up at Raleid.
“Shut up, old lady.”
Then she sharply turned her head away.
The devastating efficiency of that single blow caused sparks to flare in Raleid’s eyes.
“How dare you, you little bitch? Shall I make you spit blood instead of baby slobber?”
The poisonous flowers on her chair spread their petals wide toward Sael, as though preparing to fire something terrifying from within.
“Wow, the old lady’s scary. Do you really want to try me?”
The speaker was a young man with spiky hair jutting out in every direction and strange tattoos covering his body. With his delinquent appearance, he looked more at home in a back alley than among druids.
“If either of you interferes with my hangover, I’ll kill you both.”
Enormous antlers began growing from either side of the backrest of the man’s chair.
“Hangover? Surely you mean a blood-drunk stupor.”
An old man sitting in the chair farthest from the entrance clicked his tongue. Numerous varieties of mushrooms grew from his chair.
Sael refused to back down. A spike formed from gathered roots bent far backward, poised to pierce Raleid’s throat at any moment.
“I don’t mind you fighting.”
The man seated diagonally across from them interrupted.
“Hehe. Do I smell that bad, old fossil?”
The old man frowned.
“Just how many humans have you devoured? The stench of blood is filling this entire meeting hall.”
“Oh, just this and that. But what? What are you going to do about it? Are you planning to lecture me just because you’re the Fourth Branch? Unless they’re senior officers, all of us hold the same rank.”
His openly insolent attitude made him resemble a back-alley thug far more than a druid.
A faint trace of anger appeared around the old man’s eyes at the blatant disrespect, but it quickly vanished.
After suppressing his fury, the old man released a deep sigh.
Contrary to their mysterious reputation among the public, druids were extremely emotional and did whatever they pleased.
This was particularly true of the Black Druids, who distanced themselves from civilization. Compared to civilized Imperials, qualities such as calm reason, careful restraint, and enduring patience were all considerably weaker in them.
“So, who injured you, Sael?”
The old man asked.
“I wasn’t injured…”
“Yes, yes. Then who destroyed your Wicker Man?”
Sael clenched her teeth.
Why couldn’t he simply understand what she meant instead of interrogating her over every little detail?
“…Just some boy my age.”
Her answer caused a commotion throughout the meeting hall. Even the old man looked slightly surprised.
Despite Sael’s arrogant disposition, her talent ranked among the finest within the Black Druids.
The fact that she had become the Order’s youngest-ever officer only two months after joining was proof of that talent.
And a boy her own age had defeated her?
“Oh?”
Raleid’s eyes gleamed seductively.
“Who could this boy be, the one who taught our little genius such a painful lesson? Now I’m truly curious. Could he perhaps be an even greater genius than our Sael? I’d love to meet him in person. Would you introduce us sometime?”
Raleid taunted her mockingly.
Sael ground her teeth.
“Mmph, mmph…”
“Hmph. What a shameless cradle robber. Act your age, old lady. You’re over a hundred years old, yet you think a little makeup will solve everything.”
“You little bitch! You’ve been calling me an old lady over and over…!”
“Hehehe…”
Just as a vein bulged on Raleid’s forehead—
“Enough, all of you. Do not disrupt the atmosphere any further.”
A cold voice cut through the meeting hall.
The old man looked around at the officers with an icy gaze and tapped one finger against his armrest.
The man in the antlered chair began writhing in agony.
The sight of mushrooms sprouting across his entire body and biting into his flesh was grotesque beyond description.
“Mmph… Mmmph!”
Then—
“…!”
“…!!”
Tiny mushrooms bloomed densely across Sael’s roots and Raleid’s poisonous flowers.
The mushrooms’ mouths split wide open, revealing sharp teeth that gleamed as though they might bite down at any moment.
The reason no one screamed was simple.
Mushrooms had also filled the man’s throat.
“I was granted authority by the senior officers to conduct this meeting. I may not have the right to lecture you, but I do possess the authority to use force to ensure that the meeting begins smoothly.”
The old man narrowed his eyes.
“Do not give me an opportunity to exercise that authority again.”
He tapped the armrest once more.
The mushrooms growing from the officers’ bodies instantly disappeared.
Threats naturally inspired respect. After the old man demonstrated his power once, the meeting hall immediately fell silent.
Amid the subdued atmosphere, he began to speak.
“You remember what was discussed at our previous meeting, I assume?”
The officers nodded.
They would awaken the masters of the forest and bring them into the Black Druid Order’s forces.
To accomplish that, they would offer the human villages infesting the Great Forest as sacrifices.
“This meeting has been called to inform you of an additional directive from the senior officers.”
The old man met the officers’ gazes one by one.
“Those above us wish to expand the range of sacrifices to include the gateways maintained by the civilized powers.”
“Powers? Don’t tell me…”
The old man nodded toward Sael, who was staring at him suspiciously.
“Yes. From the Imperial gateway stationed in the west to the elven gateway stationed in the east.”
Shock appeared on every officer’s face.
“So they’ve concluded that awakening the masters of the forest will require even more sacrifices…”
No sooner had Raleid finished speaking than Sael raised her hand.
“But can we really fight both powers simultaneously? The humans alone might be possible, but won’t attacking the knife-ears at the same time be too much?”
“The Beast Walkers have promised their cooperation.”
The Beast Walkers?
A different sort of murmur spread throughout the meeting hall.
“They suddenly began showing an interest in this Great Forest some time ago. More precisely, they are searching for someone within the forest.”
“They’re searching for someone?”
“Yes. Apparently, someone carrying one of their sacred relics entered this forest. I was told the person has black hair and green eyes.”
Sael’s eyes trembled faintly at the description.
“From this moment onward, the Black Druid Order will divide into two groups. One will handle the humans, while the other handles the elves. Gather the magical beasts. Awaken the minions. The Beast Walkers, the primordial race, will accompany your every step. The gateways of civilization shall fall before the fury of the Great Forest.”
Huntingville had quickly returned to normal, but the crisis was not yet over.
“A minion?”
Unconcealed agitation appeared on Robens’s face. A name found only in ancient tales had just left a mage’s lips.
The old man’s voice echoed throughout the meeting hall.
Meanwhile, in Huntingville.
The mercenaries had disposed of all Sael’s remaining summons.
Once their summoner disappeared, the creatures lost control and rampaged without direction, making them far less threatening.
“Are you certain? More importantly, how do you know? How can you tell that a minion is coming?”
Robens’s question was rather pointed.
Rude, standing beside Kaspar, stepped forward without being asked.
“The Metal Magic Tower also teaches detection magic. Lord Kaspar is a mage of the Metal Magic Tower. There would be nothing strange about him noticing it before anyone else.”
With his own resident mage supporting Kaspar, Robens had nothing more to say.
“A minion… To be honest, I find it difficult to believe. It isn’t that I doubt you, Kaspar. It’s simply that, once you reach my age, seriously considering the possibility that creatures from old legends might exist in reality feels rather embarrassing.”
“There is nothing embarrassing about it.”
Rude stepped forward again.
He boldly met Robens’s gaze, which clearly asked, Why do you keep interrupting?
“This forest is no longer the forest it once was. A legion of mimic spiders has concealed itself here, the Beast Walkers have massacred entire villages, and even the Black Druid Order has revealed itself. Under these circumstances, it would not be strange for a minion to appear as well. I…”
Rude turned toward Kaspar.
He nodded firmly, as though he understood everything without needing an explanation. His eyes sparkled brightly.
“I trust Lord Kaspar’s judgment.”
Avoiding that overwhelmingly earnest gaze, Kaspar addressed Robens over Rude’s shoulder.
“It may be difficult to believe, but it is true.”
Robens smacked his lips and scratched his neck.
If both mages were saying the same thing, he had no choice but to believe them.
“Then how long will it take? How long until that thing reaches us?”
“Twenty minutes from now.”
Robens’s and Rude’s expressions stiffened simultaneously.
Food was distributed to the mercenaries.
Unexpectedly, the meal was quite plentiful. Since this was a hunters’ village, every underground storehouse was packed with meat.
But what delighted the mercenaries most was the mug of beer each of them received.
At the unexpected gift, faint smiles began to bloom among them.
These were not men who would become seriously intoxicated from a single mug.
Compared to that, the alcohol was highly effective at relieving fatigue and raising morale, making it a very appropriate measure.
However, some of the more seasoned mercenaries wore grim expressions.
They knew what it meant when alcohol was distributed immediately before a battle.
Preparing themselves for the bloody struggle ahead, they briefly made the sign of the cross.
Holding a plate of bread and a waterskin, Kaspar stood atop the palisade and gazed into the dark forest.
Since he enjoyed neither alcohol nor meat, he found it difficult to join the mercenaries’ feast and had come up here instead.
The forest at night was endlessly quiet.
There’s no point in standing here doing nothing… Ah.
The letter sent by the Metal Magic Tower suddenly came to mind.
So much had happened since receiving it that he had not even thought to open it.
Fortunately, the letter he took from inside his clothes was still reasonably intact, aside from being slightly crumpled.
True to the Metal Magic Tower’s nature, it had been sealed with a thin sheet of metal rather than wax. Kaspar slipped his fingernail beneath it and broke the seal without difficulty.
To Kaspar Hauser,
We have heard that you, despite being previously unknown, played a major role in the process of dealing with Gerfert, a former member of our Magic Tower.
Accordingly, the Tower wishes to convene an unofficial meeting of the Metal Magic Tower and invite you to attend.
This sudden invitation may come as a surprise, but the primary purpose of the meeting is simply to hear a firsthand account of your actions during the subjugation of Gerfert. Therefore, please do not feel burdened.
P.S. In addition to yourself, the attendees will include Elie Smera, an upper-level mage assigned to the Fourth Division of the Metal Magic Tower, and Gilbert Dervis, who is assigned to the Fifth Division.
“Urk!”
Kaspar had been soaking the somewhat stale bread in water and eating it, but it suddenly lodged in his throat.
Subjugation. Exploits. Unofficial meeting. Upper-level mages.
Those words did not appear particularly meaningful on their own.
But once combined with—
“Dealing with Gerfert, a former member of our Magic Tower.”
—the letter took on a thoroughly menacing tone.
Gerfert might have been excommunicated and pursued by his fellow mages, but what would they think upon learning that an outsider—an unknown mage whose name and background were complete mysteries—had defeated him?
What feelings would prompt them to invite that person?
Even Kaspar, who knew little about such matters, could not imagine a cheerful, friendly meeting.
“Up we go. What are you doing up here alone?”
Rude climbed the stairs.
“I came to discuss our plans in advance, since we’ve been assigned to the palisade interception unit.”
As mages, Kaspar and Rude had naturally been assigned alongside the palisade archers as part of the unit responsible for launching the first attack against the minion.
“Hehe. To think that mages from the Metal and Flame Magic Towers, bitter rivals, would join forces against a common enemy.”
His expression was strangely emotional.
Rude was genuinely excited.
The Metal and Flame Magic Towers had been on poor terms for a long time.
Considering the opposing dispositions of their schools and how the two towers constantly antagonized each other over rare metals, it would have been stranger if they had gotten along.
However, that rivalry belonged largely to the past. These days, it was closer to disliking each other simply because they always had.
Rude’s eyes sparkled.
Two hostile Magic Towers, forever snarling at each other—yet their mages formed a temporary alliance against a common enemy.
It moves me. It truly moves my heart.
“Perhaps we could become the greatest… Huh? What’s that? A letter?”
Rude had been about to say something when he noticed the letter in Kaspar’s hand.
Kaspar thought this was a fortunate opportunity and asked him a question.
“Do you know anything about meetings held by Magic Towers?”
Rude tilted his head.
“Why are you suddenly asking about that?”
Kaspar told him about the letter.
Naturally, he omitted Gerfert and the related details, instead altering the story to say that another Magic Tower had invited him to a meeting concerning a commission.
Rude’s expression became peculiar after hearing him out.
“That’s strange. Magic Tower meetings are normally held only among members of the same school. Mages are an extremely insular lot, after all.”
Rude spoke as though he were not a mage himself.
“At most, they might extend an invitation to an unaffiliated mage. But you’re clearly a member of the Metal Magic Tower, Lord Kaspar. Why would another tower invite you? Hmm. What could this mean?”
“…Under what circumstances would they invite an unaffiliated mage?”
“If you were unaffiliated, the answer would be obvious. Recruitment. They’d be saying, ‘We want you to join our Magic Tower, but first, we’d like to examine you in person.’ Ah!”
Rude suddenly slapped his palm and gave Kaspar a mischievous look.
“Lord Kaspar, have you been going around telling people that you’re a Book Mage? That would certainly make the Magic Towers salivate. Hahaha.”
Rude noticed Kaspar staring silently at him.
“Oh, don’t worry. It goes without saying that I’m very good at keeping secrets. I will never—absolutely never—tell anyone that Lord Kaspar belongs to the Metal Magic Tower.”
At first, Rude had listened playfully, thinking that Kaspar had constructed an impressively detailed cover story.
But his expression gradually became serious.
“Really?”
He dropped the formal speech.
After hesitating, Kaspar cautiously opened his mouth.
“I really am a Book Mage.”
“Yes, of course. You’re a Book Mage, Lord Kaspar. Hahaha.”
“I’m genuinely a Book Mage.”
“Yes, yes. I understand. I understand everything.”
A truly extraordinary sight unfolded.
Nod.
“Seriously?”
For once, it was Kaspar—not the other person—who looked frustrated.
Releasing a small sigh, Kaspar finally told Rude the whole truth.
Rude nodded repeatedly.
“Yes. I don’t belong to any Magic Tower. Every spell I use was merely taught to me by people I encountered in passing. If all mages other than Apprentices are classified as Book Mages, then I truly am one.”
Kaspar answered calmly.
This was preferable, even if it created some misunderstanding.
The Fallen Throne told me to let him misunderstand on his own, but…
Kaspar did not want to deceive him with an act that would soon be exposed.
Moreover, against an enemy powerful enough to make even the Fallen Throne turn grave, he did not want to restrict himself by pretending to be a Metal Magic Tower mage.
He did not know how Rude’s attitude might change.
Even so, this was something that had to be cleared up before the battle.
“…So you’re currently unaffiliated?”
What was with that strange look in his eyes?
Even his voice sounded excited.
Am I imagining it?
“Excellent. Kaspar, would you like to join the Flame Magic Tower?”
“What?”
Rude’s expression was so bright that Kaspar instinctively recoiled.
“Hahaha! Yes, that explains it! I knew you were far too quiet and agreeable to belong to the Metal Magic Tower.”
“…”
“Now that I can finally say it, those Metal Magic Tower bastards are utterly insufferable. They’re cold, heartless, and completely devoid of humanity. I always thought it was a waste for someone like you to be among them. But!”
Rude spread both arms wide.
“Join me at the Flame Magic Tower, Kaspar! With your abilities, admission would be easy… No, no. They’d welcome you with open arms!”
Kaspar was taken aback.
Rude, who had been confused only moments ago, was now beaming.
“If you want, I’ll even ask my supervising master to write you a letter of recommendation!”
“No, that’s…”
This was not the reaction he had expected.
Feeling pressured as Rude approached as though he might seize him, Kaspar stepped backward.
“Hahaha, there’s no need to feel burdened. If I bring in a talent like you, I’ll receive all sorts of benefits as well. Access to the middle levels’ facilities and magical tools, additional allocations of mana stones, and so on. So you don’t need to worry that you’d be imposing on me.”
Rude’s eyes gleamed with almost unbearable intensity.
There were definitely three mana convergence points.
That meant Kaspar had linked three spells in rapid succession.
He had possessed neither a mana staff nor a familiar or levitation stone. In other words, his body alone contained at least three mana cores.
That must have been why the druid had been so startled that she allowed his attack to land.
It’s a shame about our unlikely alliance, but…
That was fine.
If such a talent joined the Flame Magic Tower, that minor disappointment meant nothing.
In Rude’s estimation, Kaspar’s talent was unprecedented.
The mimic spider was impressive, but that Black Druid was where he showed his true ability.
Rude had seen it clearly—the magic that split Sael’s body apart.
At Kaspar’s age, he had already displayed power comparable to mages assigned to the middle levels of a Magic Tower.
A mana core formed when a mage gathered mana within the body through meditation and similar methods, or when the mana left behind after casting spells condensed within the body over a long period.
It was much like a pearl forming inside an oyster.
Consequently, increasing the number and quality of one’s cores required a corresponding amount of time.
The only exceptions were those who received injections of artificial mana from a Magic Tower or used crystals formed from innate mana so abundant that it had compressed into a dense, viscous substance.
At Kaspar’s age, being able to control even a single mana core reliably was enough to be considered a noteworthy talent.
Controlling two?
That was extraordinary. It did not matter if the mana convergence points vibrated or remained somewhat unstable. Magic Towers would fight tooth and nail to recruit such a person.
But three?
And all three mana convergence points were perfectly stable and unwavering?
What utter nonsense!
Rude trembled.
It did not matter if Kaspar had once received instruction from a Metal Magic Tower mage.
Rude would have declared the same thing regardless.
This was a talent that mocked time itself—one that defied everything mages believed possible.
Yet that talent was standing right here.
Rude had witnessed it himself. Judging by the druid Sael’s shock, it could not have been merely his imagination.
And Kaspar had achieved all this without even receiving support from a Magic Tower?
Rude himself had learned a few simple wind spells from his village mage in the past.
A few encounters with passing teachers were inconsequential. What mattered was which organization Kaspar belonged to.
Rude wiped away the drool that had unknowingly begun to trickle from his mouth and spoke.
“I’m not asking you to decide immediately. I don’t care what kind of magic you use. If you ever become interested in the Flame Magic Tower, tell me. Our tower is very broad-minded.”
Rude, who always preached the supremacy of talent, wore the brightest smile imaginable.
After Rude left and Kaspar finished his meal, he sank into thought.
Recruitment…
Honestly, the idea appealed to him.
What would it be like to receive systematic instruction from a Magic Tower?
How beautiful would a place containing countless books and magical tools be?
The same was true of Rude’s proposal.
Kaspar appreciated Rude’s friendly attitude toward him, but what about the Magic Tower itself?
Would its members be as easygoing and accepting as Rude?
Surely not.
He also remembered Jack’s warning.
Kaspar did not believe he had yet reached a level where he could protect himself from a Magic Tower.
Rude had just said it himself: if Kaspar were unaffiliated, they would examine him in person.
What would they think if they discovered his constitution during that process?
What if they learned that his body contained an inexhaustible supply of mana?
What if they discovered that he could memorize even unfamiliar spells as patterns and reproduce them?
Their scholarly curiosity would probably blaze fiercely.
He felt certain their reaction would not be harmless.
In that case, he would keep his distance for the time being, just as he had until now.
Whether it was the Metal Magic Tower or the Flame Magic Tower, it would not be too late to visit after he had accumulated enough power.
That was the prudent choice.
[It’s coming.]
The Fallen Throne whispered softly.
Kaspar turned his head.
Far in the distance, the surface of the moonlit forest was rippling.
“It’s coming!”
Kaspar turned fully toward the forest.
Rustle—
The lieutenant shouted as well.
“Archers, onto the palisade! Swordsmen, form a tight formation! Rude, get beside Kaspar!”
The village erupted into motion.
Having already finished their meals, the mercenaries swiftly moved to their assigned positions.
Robens and Allen gave the mercenaries one final round of encouragement.
Under the lieutenant’s command, the archers found the best positions atop the palisade and took aim.
The swaying treetops approached like an advancing wave. Even the mercenaries on the palisade could see it now.
“Ready.”
At the lieutenant’s signal, the mercenaries ignited their oil-soaked arrows.
Once the approaching creature drew close enough, the arrows poured down.
Fwoosh-fwoosh-fwoosh!
It immediately leaped.
The terrifying force of its jump tore trees from the earth and hurled their trunks into the sky alongside it.
This was different from Sael’s ambush, which had caught them unprepared.
Huntingville was filled with mercenaries, fully prepared for battle and ready to meet the approaching enemy.
Boom!
The minion landed before Huntingville’s entrance.