《Polymath Redux》


 Chapter 1//The Strongest

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 1//The Strongest


    [¡®Mordred¡¯ has defeated the ¡®Crimson Dragon God¡¯.]


    A single message was announced to the entire world. When talking about who the ¡®strongest¡¯ was, many names were thrown into the hat, but none could give a definitive answer. It was different now. The ¡®Crimson Dragon God¡¯ stood as the central pillar of this world- an absolute existence- but now its corpse laid dead below the ivory stairs of its palace.


    If one were to describe the view in a single word, it would be: ¡®Hellish¡¯. Searing landscapes of molten rock and dust. Ashen skies torn asunder by the harsh, solar winds, and towering infernos so devastating it brazed the horizon making it difficult to tell differentiate between land and sky. Such oppressive d¨¦cor was only appropriate for the inauguration of the one who had ascended the throne to strength and legacy. His prey- God- now a trophy; the magnificent and ferocious beast that even Gods and Heroes of legend feared was now no more than a fancy doormat.


    Atop the ivory stairs of the ¡®Crimson Dragon God¡¯s Palace¡¯ was a single man who stood triumphantly and silently. A thin, bloodstained silver-cross-sword sheathed in his hands. He clad himself in an elegant white overcoat that fluttered gracefully in the blazing gale like a regal cape. This was the man now recognized by the world as the ¡®strongest existence¡¯.


    His name was¡­


    ¡°Mordred!¡± an echoed roar came from below.


    The strongest responded with a hint of arrogance; Mordred cast only his sight down as though he were a God peering down onto ants who had gathered to steal food. If life had a peak, this was his moment. There was just one- mages, knights, fletchers and more- many of the world¡¯s next strongest had collected themselves before him to overthrow the crown he had just won. Eyes filled with confidence and jealousy cast up towards him. Had they come to celebrate the birth of a new king? Or merely to be slaughtered? Those were the only two choices.


    Wordlessly, Mordred applauded their courage. The harrowing percussive beats pierced through their armour and determination to then sink into their hearts like a poisoned dagger. ¡°Just in time, as always,¡± he merrily spoke with a hint of malice. Slowly, in a fashion reminiscent to that of the final boss of a video game, he descended the stairs of the Dragon God one by one. He stopped just a few steps from the bottom, so he could still look down upon them, and with the professionalism of a theatre actor at the end of his play he bowed before them. Indeed, it was all just one big ¡®play¡¯ to him.


    It was all sarcasm, of course. Despite this, the acted ¡®etiquette¡¯ had been enough to break down will of these brave and veteran warriors. Their faces paled and collectively dripped cold sweat down their spines. What was once confidence morphed into hesitation, assurance into unease. If merely the greetings of the strongest was enough to shred their confidence like paper, then exactly how vast of a chasm was the difference between their strengths?


    ¡°C- come on, boys! He¡¯s just one dude!¡± one of them- probably their leader- yelled in a failed attempt at motivating the others. ¡°There¡¯s no way he could take us all on! We¡¯ve brought an entire expanded raid expedition!¡± Yet, only whimpering silence was returned.


    Much like a lion playing with its prey, the strongest decided to entertain his guests. A warm, sanguine light glimmered throughout Mordred¡¯s body. He slowly raised his hands and directed all to ¡®kneel¡¯ as he applied a bit of his magical powers. In an instant, all the veterans fell to their knees as though gravity had been intensified many folds. Their armour clanged audibly as they hit the floor, their bodies struggled to keep upright to just look at their adversary. Some of them were already gone as their bodies dispersed into tiny fragments.


    ¡°Wuh¡­ kugh¡­ what the hell?!¡± came a disoriented shout.


    ¡°How is he doing that?!¡± another cried.


    ¡°What skill is this?!¡±


    ¡°What are the Paladins doing?! We need Anti-magic support!¡±


    Voices of disarray arose after just a single spell. At that moment, one thing became clear: that they weren¡¯t here for a celebration.


    Mordred¡¯s mouth curled from a stoic frown to a malignant grin. He bemusedly watched as the warriors tried to compose themselves, but if they really did get their bearings straight that wouldn¡¯t be too fun. Instead, like a child tearing off the wings of a butterfly, he adjusted the power at twice the output and re-cast the gravity intensification magic known as ¡®Gravity Well¡¯. With that, several more warriors were smashed into tiny fragments and removed from the battle.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    ¡°Holy shit!¡± came a pained moan.


    ¡°Seriously?! This guy is broken as hell!¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think the game was this imbalanced!¡±


    ¡°Is this even allowed? Is it even Magic?¡± asked one warrior. The knight adorned in a marvellous suit of white gold miraculously stood his ground to cast a powerful nullification counter-spell: ¡®Null Magic¡¯. ¡°H- huh?! It¡¯s not work¡­ you mean, this isn¡¯t a magic spell?!¡±


    ¡°Oh, a Paladin,¡± Mordred was thoroughly and unironically impressed that someone could actually withstand his spell. Even if the target was a class known for its supreme anti-magical capabilities, Mordred was confident he could still suppress them with ease. ¡°This won¡¯t do,¡± witnessing the opponent¡¯s resistance he shook his head, and with his free hand tossed out a small blue orb of fire. The flame travelled sluggishly and unenthusiastically, yet the moment it made contact with the Paladin¡¯s white armour it combust into a pyre that dwarfed mountains.


    ¡°What?! Argh! No, no, no!! How came you use magic on me?!¡± the knight shouted, losing all semblance of grace and respect. ¡°Null Magic!¡± he shouted, but the azure inferno did not give out until there had been nothing left of the knight but blackened remains of his scorched armour.


    Once nothing more remained of his opponent, Mordred replied, ¡°your ¡®Magic Resistance¡¯ was too low.¡±


    Only after a full minute had elapsed and three-forth of the expedition party wiped out by an ability meant merely to cause a status condition, did a contestant finally and truly break free of the gravity spell- their leader. Though he had been less clad in armour than the previously defiant paladin, the leader was no slouch when it came to strength, proven by his ability to break free. ¡°Dammit!¡± he knew it was all over. Even though they brought almost forty people, it wasn¡¯t enough to even launch a single attack against the ¡®strongest¡¯. ¡®I¡­ at least a single hit!¡¯ he thought to himself as he mustered up an attack. The leader¡¯s sword shone through the horrifying backdrop of flames and magma and pushed through his defeated party.


    With the furry of a hawk and the anguish of his slaughtered comrades, the leader¡¯s sword swung like lightning through the air to strike down upon the strongest. If he could just manage to deal some minute level of damage, at least then Mordred might acknowledge him. Victory was no option, but remembrance¡­ perhaps.


    The heavenly blade sliced through Mordred¡¯s overcoat and left a deep wound upon the centre of his chest. In an acknowledgement of his achievement, the strongest retreated a few steps and fell to his knees while gripping over his wound. As the blood slowly trickled down, he looked at the leader and smiled, ¡°not bad.¡±


    ¡­ Or so that¡¯s how it should¡¯ve been. In truth, it had all just been a fantasy, and the reality was that Mordred had caught the blade before it even had a chance to go near his body. With just the slightest twist of his wrist the sword shattered into pieces like a certain ¡®flaky¡¯ chocolate bar. ¡°I¡¯d say ¡®nice try¡¯, but that wasn¡¯t even close,¡± not praise as he wanted, but a mockery. Then, to throw further salt on the wound, the leader of the expedition party had been ignored as he was tossed aside like a discarded rag doll, and the strongest¡¯s sights were firmly against the rest of his allies.


    Noticing the air of evil the leader desperately turned and shouted to his party, ¡°you idiots! Don¡¯t just sit there like fools, run! Scatter!¡±


    The warriors only returned looks of confusion. ¡°Leader, what are you¡­?¡± before the sentence could be completed, a group of them had suddenly been struck down by something and exploded into a pile of ash and debris.


    ¡°What the?!¡±


    When the dust was cleared, what remained at the epicentre of was a flaming rock- a meteorite.


    ¡°Shit! ¡®Hell Storm¡¯!¡± realizing the seriousness of their situation the remaining few members tried to make a run for it. Unfortunately, it was not their lucky day.


    ¡°Hey now, don¡¯t run away. You¡¯re all valuable piles of experience!¡± Even more meteorites had been conjured up and started to hail down from the skies with the frequency of raindrops. Worse than continued artillery fire, by the time Mordred had wiped the entire field clean of opposition, the surroundings had all been charred to a nice, black crisp. Suddenly, Mordred¡¯s expression dimmed as he let out a disappointed sigh. ¡°All that and I only managed to get a forth of a level.¡± Turning to the only surviving member, the leader, he told him in no uncertain terms, ¡°it was entertaining, but next time try bringing a stronger party.¡±


    ¡®There is no stronger party!¡¯ the leader wanted to return but the words refused to escape his throat. ¡°You¡­ you¡¯re unbelievable¡­¡± he managed to utter. ¡°Just¡­ how¡­?¡±


    ¡°Play for a really long time and cross your fingers in RNG stat rolls. That¡¯s all I can tell you.¡± Mordred shrugged as he conjured a final parting shot for the leader. As a sort of ¡®congratulations for surviving to the end¡¯ deal, a very special and unique skill had been activated. It was a secret skill that had been released only a few days ago- most didn¡¯t even know of its existence.


    The ashen and fiery clouds above suddenly parted, but what came out from the other side was the serene light of a clear sky, but a shadowy face. Its blank, white eyes were hollow and lifeless. When it opened its mouth, it revealed a row of sharp, shark-like teeth.


    ¡°What¡­ what the hell is that?¡± the leader¡¯s eyes widened as he witnessed the game abruptly shift into the horror genre.


    ¡°The ¡®World Eater¡¯.¡± Mordred chanted its name. ¡°A skill that the developers added with the last patch. To be honest, it¡¯s also my first time using it after obtaining it. Rejoice.¡±


    As though it were leaking from the very heavens themselves, the shadowy face started to drop down as its enormous gapping mouth rushed straight for the leader.


    [Expedition Raid: ¡®World Heroes¡¯ has been defeated.]


    None could dispute the power of the strongest¡­

 Chapter 2//The future of the one named ‘Mordred’

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 2//The future of the one named ¡®Mordred¡¯


    ¡®Hellgana Online¡¯.


    It was never a particularly famous game, nor was it properly balanced. With a continuously dwindling player population it often struggled to justify its existence with each passing month. While nothing about the game was outstanding, there was a unique gimmick it used to draw players when it first launched.


    A ¡®classless¡¯ system, or more aptly, a ¡®boundary-less¡¯ class system. Meaning, while it did technically possess the standard profession mechanics, there were no strict barriers of entry between each. Players were free to learn skills and spells from any of the existing ten classes and customize their character builds however they pleased. A ¡®Knight¡¯ could easily pick up a wand and start conjuring magic spells from the ¡®Magician¡¯ class or use a bow to become a temporary ¡®Archer¡¯. Conversely, they could simply opt to focus on one class and branch out only after achieving max level. Though, as with any other game, there were always ways to ¡®min-max¡¯ and customize for the most effective and efficient damage.


    Each class contained a level ceiling of 200. Upon reaching the level cap players were then given a lengthy and difficult quest to obtain what was known as an ¡®Ultimate¡¯ skill.


    The various classes were categorized into:


    <ul>


    <li>Alchemist</li>


    <li>Archer</li>


    <li>Magician</li>


    <li>Necromancer</li>


    <li>Cleric</li>


    <li>Knight</li>


    <li>Berserker</li>


    <li>Puppeteer</li>


    <li>Bard</li>


    <li>Assassin</li>


    </ul>


    That said, if a player managed to obtain all skills and reach the maximum level of 2000, a secret 11<sup>th</sup> class known as the ¡®Demi-God¡¯ would become available. It was a class so incredibly rare that only five players in the game¡¯s history had managed to unlock it. Yet, reaching level 2000 was only the prerequisite. An arduous and extremely cryptic quest had to be cleared, but even if a player somehow managed to beat the quest, an exorbitant amount of in-game currency had to be pledged on top of all that.


    To those five players who had reached the pinnacle of the game, they were granted a special title by the player population. They were known as the ¡®Polymath¡¯s.


    And the strongest of them all: ¡®Mordred¡¯.


    *


    *


    *


    ¡°I think that¡¯s enough excitement for one day,¡± a certain young man spoke to himself as he logged off from his online game. He sat quietly contemplating before his desk, staring blankly at the log-in screen and sighed. ¡°The top¡­ is it?¡± the moment he cleared the hardest dungeon- known to be impossible- there was an unbelievable sense of emptiness and boredom. What was he supposed to do now? He never really had many friends and much preferred playing solo. The few friends that he did possess had all quit the game a long time ago. ¡®I guess that¡¯s why they all left,¡¯ he finally realized what they had seen long before. A wry smile drew across his face as memories of his Polymath peers echoed in his mind. They were all members of one guild: ¡®Summit¡¯.


    Though he wasn¡¯t quite done with the game, it had now dangerously teetered along that line. Even before clearing the final dungeon, for the last few months all he had done was play around in these unofficial ¡®player manhunt¡¯ raids. He turned off his monitor and leaned back onto his computer chair. ¡°Haah¡­ I think I¡¯ll take a shower and go to bed.¡±Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Lazily dragging his scrawny and tired body to the shower, warm water ran down his back as he fell into a deep contemplation. ¡°There¡¯s college tomorrow¡­ I¡¯ll probably skip it,¡± he told himself. It wasn¡¯t the first time, nor would it be the last. ¡°College¡­ my future, huh?¡± he wondered about it as he stepped out of the shower with still we hair. If it was about what direction he wanted to take his life in, there was one thing he was genuinely interested in. He opened his drawer to take out some clothes, and as he did several business cards fell to the floor from his hasty withdraw. Cards with the names of various professional theatre organizations and talent associations. ¡°I should probably¡­¡± but he shook his head.


    After he finished getting dressed, he climbed down the stairs to his bleak and empty house. A dimly lit lounge with eerie silence. He made his way over to the answering machine and checked to see if there were any, though there was only one person that came to mind who would send him any message.


    Right on point.


    ¡°Hello? Is this thing on¡­ Oh, hey! It¡¯s your uncle. You haven¡¯t been answering your phone for a while, so I was getting a bit worried if anything happened. Anyway, I checked past your house earlier today and saw the lights on, which probably means you¡¯re doing fine. Well, I received a call from your school telling me that you¡¯ve been skipping out a lot and that they¡¯re also getting worried. I understand how you are, but I still think it would be a valuable experience for you to attend, else they might resort to holding you back. Other than that, I¡¯m also calling about the Christmas party we¡¯re having soon, and that you should come celebrate with my family. Your cousins said that they wanted to see you as well, so¡­ hope to see you soon, okay? Just¡­ just be careful, all right buddy?¡±


    The young man sighed as he listened. A dry scoff in self-mockery, ¡°sorry uncle, it¡¯s impossible for me after all.¡±


    He felt no enmity towards his uncle and relatives. In fact, he had been extremely grateful that they maintained a cordial relationship with him, however, it was because of that he felt wrong about barging into their happiness. His own parents had passed away from an accident when he was younger, and ever since he had lived on his own not to become a burden to his other relatives. There was no thought to change that lifestyle now.


    With just his uncle dropping by a few times a month was nice enough for him.


    With a sigh, he checked for more messages but there were none. ¡°Of course not,¡± he shook his head and retreated to his room to sleep it off. Climbing back up the stairs he noticed a strange light coming from his room.


    ¡°Hmm? Did I leave my monitor on?¡± he wondered to himself but distinctly remembered that he had turned it off. Puzzled by this he rushed back into his room to investigate the matter. The source of the light was indeed his monitor. Strangely, the power button was indicated as ¡®off¡¯, but there was a text box at the centre of the screen which read: ¡®Welcome to Aria¡¯.


    ¡°Welcome to¡­ Aria? What?¡± he walked forward and turned his monitor back on. ¡°Wait, it was turned off after all, huh?¡± the message disappeared as he touched the screen. ¡°Is it a virus?¡± He was no professional programmer, although he did ensure to keep up-to-date with the latest in anti-malware applications and performed regular maintenance. Still, if he couldn¡¯t solve this issue, then he wouldn¡¯t be able to sleep soundly.


    A few minutes turned into hours as he checked his computer several times over. ¡°There¡¯s nothing here,¡± he sighed with frustration. No viruses, no anomalies; his computer showed no indications of slowing down and no files were altered. ¡°Tch,¡± he clicked his tongue, ¡°just what was it?¡±


    It would¡¯ve actually been better if there had been a virus, at least he would¡¯ve felt better after erasing it. The only thing he found now was a migraine. It aggravated him further that nothing was wrong, but clearly that message was not an illusion. ¡°Dammit!¡±


    He stood up, sweat from anger trickled down the side of his face. Another shower might have been necessary and perhaps a drink to calm him down. Yet as he turned back to do just that the migraine intensified, bringing him down to the floor. On his knees, he held his head in pain and anger as his face turned beet red from all the blood.


    ¡°Shit¡­¡± it hurt, perhaps more so than actual torture, or at least that¡¯s what it seemed like to him at the moment. It was as though his brain was literally burning up. Unable to endure the pain any further his vision started to fade. Sense eluded him and breathing becoming harder¡­


    Eyelids heavier¡­


    Consciousness waning¡­

 Chapter 3//The Dragon Slayer

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 3//The Dragon Slayer


    ¡°Ugh, son of a shit. My head hurts¡­¡± as his consciousness returned, those were the first words spoken by ¡®Mordred¡¯. First, his lungs gasped for air as though they had been devoid of them until now- which then devolved into a series of violent coughs. It took a little more than a bit for him to regain composure and regulate his body¡¯s state of normalcy. ¡°Can¡¯t think straight, but that¡¯s probably normal,¡± he muttered to himself as he remembered what happened just prior to waking up.


    Most of the regular functions of his body went through a brief period of malfunction, but soon returned to normal.


    It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the brightness of natural light, but as he opened them he was revealed to a canvas-like painting of nature¡¯s beauty. ¡°Huh?¡± his mouth opened and flapped, although no sound other than gasps of disbelief were let out. His mind was fully committed to enter ¡®panic-mode¡¯ but his body was so frozen stiff they collided with destructive feedback in his mind. All thoughts were on hold.


    A vast, almost infinite landscape of greenery. It was as though a marvellous nature painting had manifested before his eyes. A sea of emerald created by the vast collective of trees that made up the forest existed below. He then finally noticed that his altitude was much higher than of trees, which was more than a little problematic.


    A gentle breeze brushed past his body, cooling him down a little and reverting his malfunctioning brain. Above him were clouds, but there were also some at his eye-level. He was trapped upon a tall mountainous area, or more accurate a plateaued portion of a mountain. He peered down the side of the cliff and saw it was dangerously high up. ¡®About 4000 metres?¡¯ he estimated in his head.


    It would¡¯ve been such a simple matter to write this entire experience off as a vivid hallucination or a dream. Dream or no, this was as real as it got. The sensation of the wind against his face, the smell of thin mountainous air and the brilliance of the sun shining above his head. ¡°This is real. Accept it, but don¡¯t lose to it,¡± he chanted to himself.


    ¡°Calm down. No, yeah¡­ I¡¯m calm,¡± he took in a deep breath and let it out. ¡°Okay, so what happens now?¡± even he found it a little odd at how calm he was in this situation. No, perhaps ¡®calm¡¯ wasn¡¯t quite the right word; it was as if his mind had gone way past the panic stage and made a full revolution, rebooting back into ¡®safe-mode¡¯, and all the bad thoughts were being held back.


    He eyed back down at the side of the mountain once more. ¡°Should I try to climb down?¡± there were a few things he could do in this situation. He had two choices to make: he could either attempt to climb down or wait for some kind of rescue plane. Although, waiting for a plane that may never come meant that he would slowly exhaust his strength to climb down the side if he wanted to do it later. He needed to commit to either climbing down when he had the physical strength to do so or wait it out permanently.


    However, it was then a thought rammed its way into his head like a ten-tonne truck. What if he was really dead? He remembered suffering from a traumatic migraine, so it wouldn¡¯t be so farfetched to assume the sheer pain had killed him. Fortunately, he quickly shuddered the thought from his mind. ¡°No, that kind of thinking won¡¯t help me now. For now, let¡¯s assume I¡¯m still alive.¡± The thing that would help him now was not thinking about ¡®why¡¯ or ¡®who¡¯, but ¡®how¡¯ he would get down.


    If this was at all like the game he played, all he would¡¯ve needed to do was casually jump down. ¡°But this is real,¡± he confirmed to himself.


    Scared? He definitely was; he never accomplished much in his life, and there was so much more he wanted to do. Which is why, if he still wanted to do those things then he would have to choose his course of action now. ¡°¡­ If I die- when I die- I at least don¡¯t want to go out like a coward,¡± this was his only consolation prize for the decision he made this day.


    Being a home-security guard, most people wouldn¡¯t assume he was physically fit, but he had maintained a steady muscle tone with regular exercise and healthy eating. Admittedly, he had never attempted rock-climbing before, but this was the perfect opportunity to learn. ¡®Let¡¯s see, about 243 steps to the first protrusion. If I make it there, I could probably rest for a bit before continuing,¡¯ he planned out his escape route in his mind.


    Despite his inexperience in climbing, he it rather easy- it was as if his body already knew instinctively what to do. His hands naturally found protruding rocks to grip onto, and his feet also found steady paths. Not even a fully thirty minutes had elapsed, and he was already onto the first resting point- he had estimated at least two or three hours would pass before he made it here. He didn¡¯t even particularly find himself short of breath and could easily continue down the entire mountain if he felt like it. ¡°Am I going to live?¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    As ¡®Mordred¡¯ resolved himself to resume his suicidal climb down the mountain, a most feral roar shook the heavens above him. It was similar to the kinds of screeching those flame dragons back in the game made. The clouds wobbled and parted so suddenly that he didn¡¯t understand what was going on. ¡°What the hell was that?¡± he shifted his shoulders and turned his head around to examine the origin for the bestial roar.


    Far off in the horizon, it could be seen. What could be seen? Surfing upon skies with its large, blood-coloured wings. A very familiar shape; he had seen one recently in the game. ¡°No way.¡± For a moment he teetered back into thinking maybe this really was all just a dream. The reddish ¡®dragon¡¯ that he watched gliding towards him was part of his imagination created because he had recently just slew one in the game. That would explain most of this.


    Unfortunately, his celebration proved a little too premature. A massive ball of inferno spewed from the creature¡¯s mouth and soared towards him. Before it even hit the mountain, portions of it melted away into molten rock just from the heat alone. When it finally made contact, the entire top of the mountain had been completely eviscerated and turned into watery magma. The heat alone seemed like it would sear off his face, yet he felt it wasn¡¯t as hot as he had expected.


    The mountain trembled as if it were frightened of the beast. Large chunks of molten boulders crashed and collapsed from above- some came close to knocking him off. Yet, through some miraculous acrobatic feat, Mordred manged to cling on. With bleeding eyes, he gazed back at the monster responsible. Large, sanguine wings and scales, a long blood-red tail, sharp claws and rows of jagged teeth. There was no point in making excuses to himself about the identify of this creature.


    Its mouth almost seemed to curl up, like it was delighting in his misery.


    The structural integrity of the mountain collapsed soon after. A literal hellish rockslide of doom and fire crashed down around him. Although Mordred tried his dearest to stay on, that the rushing inferno made that impossible. Losing balance, the piece of rock he had grabbed onto chipped off and now he was falling. ¡°Ah,¡± no words left his mouth as a cruel sense of zen-like detachment overwhelmed his mind. ¡®I¡¯m dying,¡¯ he realized, yet it didn¡¯t feel real.


    Time suddenly slowed down, or that¡¯s what it felt like as he appeared to hover for a brief few seconds before landing on a small protracted cliff. He found himself safe, although there were still chunks of fiery rocks sliding past him, it didn¡¯t hurt him or feel particularly hot. He even caught one of the burning rocks and¡­ nothing. He knew it was searing hot because the moment he threw it on the floor, a part of it melted away. ¡°What the hell?¡±


    He checked over his body to see if everything was fine. Other than a bit of dirt, there were no injuries, not even his clothes were torn¡­ ¡°wait, clothes?¡± he suddenly realized that his clothes had been swapped out. ¡°Huh?¡±  Looking down at his own body, he instantly recognized what he had been wearing. A pristine white overcoat with a mysterious dark suit beneath. ¡°Isn¡¯t this ¡®that¡¯?¡±


    He took the moment to think back, even as fiery rocks rained down and the mountain was collapsing- this was more important. ¡®When I fell earlier, that time slowing down¡­¡¯ he had witnessed it thousands of times before through a monitor. It was an acrobatic skill that the [Assassin] class had access to. It was known as ¡®Soft Landing¡¯, which negated fall damage to a certain extent.


    Reasonably, it wouldn¡¯t have been hard to formulate an explanation with all these factors, ¡®but no, that can¡¯t be possible,¡¯ he doubted himself. Yet, there was nothing else he could think of at this moment. His clothes and the ability he exhibited were all the same from the game he had played- it was ¡®Mordred¡¯s¡¯ abilities and equipment. His arms were supposed to be thin and scrawny, but now they were slender and sturdy looking.


    He then turned his attention back to the ¡®creature¡¯. ¡°Right, there¡¯s a dragon there,¡± no doubt that was a monster only seen in fantasies. Taking these into consideration, was it such a stretch to consider for a moment he had inherited these fantastical traits straight from his game character?


    The red dragon that had just witness Mordred landing safely roared at the heavens with blood-curdling irritation. It appeared almost mad and disappointed that Mordred hadn¡¯t ¡®kicked the bucket¡¯ from that attack. Deciding to take the more direct approach to finish him off, the monster soared straight at him like a guided missile.


    ¡°Does it want to kill me that badly? Tch, if I¡¯m wrong about this then it¡¯s really all over.¡± As hard as it was to fathom, there was no choice other than to accept it. The only way to survive this ordeal was to kill that dragon before it killed him. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± he tried to calm himself. ¡°I¡¯ve killed hundreds of them before. In fact, I¡¯ve killed the Red Dragon¡¯s God. This is a walk in the park compared to that.¡± He needed to become ¡®Mordred¡¯ not just in appearance and ability, but also in mind.


    He took in the dreaded atmosphere of the situation and formed it into a sinister ¡®smirk¡¯.


    The actor.


    The schemer.


    The deceiver.


    The puppet-master.


    The Polymath.


    That was who ¡®Mordred¡¯ was.


    Ferocity against Malice. The dragon slithered and with great force and fury as it angrily charged towards him. It opened its mouth, readying a fire breath attack that could dissolve the entire mountain if let be. A flash of its scorching heat lit with a sinister glow. Yet, as it was about to launch the fire of its breath attack, it suddenly stopped when the target was no longer there.


    ¡®Blink¡¯: a skill that allowed instantaneous short distance teleportation.


    ¡°Looking for me?¡± a harrowing voice filled with spite whispered from the dragon¡¯s back. Before it had time to react, Mordred¡¯s hand glowed with an ominous red hue. Like a guillotine, his hand swung horizontally across the dragon¡¯s back. A reddish arc projected forward, liberating its head from the rest of its body. ¡®Assassinate¡¯; against the fearsome might of this skill, its normally nigh-indestructible steel scales were like butter against a hot knife. ¡°I¡¯d say something cool but, you¡¯re not worth it.¡±


    With a final feral screech, the monster was no more.


    Mordred had won.

 Chapter 4//The Tiny Lord of Evil

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 4//The Tiny Lord of Evil


    Once the exact specifications and functions of his abilities were understood, it had become an exceedingly easy feat for Mordred to scale down the remaining few thousand metres of the mountain. A sigh of relief escaped him as his feet finally planted down onto real, solid ground. When he had a moment, he stared down and examined his own hands- undoubtedly his, yet unfamiliar. They were the hands of a ¡®game character¡¯. ¡°It still feels rather unbelievable,¡± of course, such a fantastic occurrence such as this wasn¡¯t so easy to take in, no matter how much first-hand experience he had gotten.


    He focused his attention back onto the mountain which just moments ago tried to have him killed. Burning and crumbling to pieces, the scene of its destruction was nothing short of being the cherry-on-top; the sensation of relief salted with satisfaction was delicious. As for the main culprit behind it all, Mordred turned to the slain body of the large red lizard. It laid dead. The wine-tinted ooze of its life oozing out from beneath its corpse. This too was a delightful image.


    ¡®He¡¯ did it, no matter how unbelievable it all seemed. It was all real. ¡®He¡¯ killed the giant red menace. ¡®He¡¯ scaled down several thousand metres from a crumbling mountain. ¡®He¡¯ was ¡®Mordred¡¯; the gamer and game character as one. Yet, the very fact that there was not even the slightest bit of discomfort in his unfamiliar body was frightening to say the least; like he had been under this skin for all his life. Yet, was it the same?


    Everything that ¡®Mordred¡¯ was, now accessible to him at the snap of a finger. What does one even do when given so much power they are essentially rendered directionless? What was the point of all this?


    He could now do literally anything. With those thoughts Mordred extended his index finger towards the deceased dragon as if to accuse it. A small sphere of celestial blue flames formed at the tip of his finger, emanating with the intense heat of heavenly judgment. The infernal ball began to expand- larger and hotter. Once it had reached the size of a tennis ball and gave off the heat of a blast furnace, it shot off at dragon¡¯s corpse as though it had a personal vendetta. With the slightest contact, the entire scenery before Mordred flared up into an azure pyre, searing and charring the remains of the first nemesis. In just a few short seconds, the only evidence that this dragon had ever existed was a black scorch mark against the ashen white blades of grass.


    This was exactly the point. Even the lowest rank magic spell: ¡®Firebolt¡¯, when multiplied by the effects of Mordred¡¯s equipment and magical upgrades, could be turned into something of apocalyptic proportions. Thus, the question remains: with powers that could bring about the end of times, ¡®what does one do from this point onwards?¡¯


    Perhaps there could never be a satisfactory answer to that question so long as he lived. For now, it was infinitely more important to fully internalize the ¡®character¡¯ that is Mordred. No matter how natural of a transition it had been, there would still have been dissonance. After all, ¡®Mordred¡¯ was more akin to an extremely warped version of himself, or conversely it could be said he himself was a watered-down version of Mordred.


    Due to the reasons of synchronising those two personalities, there was a small part of him that was thankful for the Dragon. It had allowed Mordred to test his own abilities against a moderately strong foe and immerse himself within his role as his character. At the very least, a dragon was unlikely to be one of the weaker monsters in this world, so it set up a good bar for his strength. ¡°In this ¡®world¡¯¡­ yeah, I guess it probably isn¡¯t Earth anymore.¡± Yet, that kind of thing didn¡¯t bother him any, the more pressing matter was getting out of this ¡®forest¡¯ now he was down from the mountain. From what he remembered, it was just a sea of trees.


    Before all that however, there was one more thing he needed to make sure of. It was on whether his other abilities were inherited over by him. While there was no reason that it wasn¡¯t, it was still a good thing to check. Though, on the off chance that his other abilities did not function, just the ones he used prior were more than powerful enough to go by. The problem was on ¡®how¡¯ to activate them.


    If this was anything life from the game all he would¡¯ve needed to do was press on the ¡®C¡¯ button to bring up his character status, and ¡®K¡¯ for skills. ¡°That doesn¡¯t exist here,¡± he shook his head. It wasn¡¯t too much of an issue since he had known his character¡¯s statistics off-by-heart, though he was a little curious. The fact he could kill a flame dragon was probably a good indicator that those stats were transferred over. There was also the ¡®inventory¡¯; all his most valuable equipment and items were stored there. It would¡¯ve been a simple matter of pressing the ¡®I¡¯ key, but right now Mordred couldn¡¯t help but sigh at the lack of directions.


    ¡°Hmm, in these kinds of scenarios, it¡¯s often the case that all you need to do is think about the item and¡­¡± just as the thought crossed his mind, an item suddenly materialized into his hand. It was an incredibly fragile-looking double-edged sword; made out of a transparent slice of ice with an extremely thin and narrow blade: known as the ¡®Beautiful Demise¡¯.


    He stood silently for a second, staring at the fantastical design of the sword. There was a white, frosty aura about it and froze whatever it touched, except for its master. ¡°That scared me,¡± he muttered. ¡°But, I see¡­ so all I need to do is think about whatever items I want to withdraw from my inventory. That certainly makes things a lot easier.¡± With that figured out, the obvious next step was to try the opposite; returning the sword back into the inventory. As expected, the process was as simple as merely thinking about it; the sword disappeared from his hand and returned to his inventory.


    With that out of the way, he tried one more time with a different item. A pebble-sized black crystal that could be held comfortably between his thumb and index figure. He held it up to the sky to let the sunlight seep through and saw a faint red glyph etched within. It was beautiful beyond words- it exceeded the concept of ¡®expensive¡¯ and entered the realms of ¡®priceless¡¯. They drew his eyes, almost into a hypnotic trance by its elegance and marvel.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    This was a category of items known as a ¡®Familiar¡¯s Insignia¡¯. The game had a system that allowed players to permanently tame monsters and use them as battle partners. Every monster in the game could be turned into a familiar one way or another- be it through drops or a long questline- with some more difficult than others. Of course, boss-type monsters were a special case in that they required a tediously long quest chain, or special events to obtain them. Once the player succeeded in whatever task was necessary, they would be given the appropriate ¡®insignia¡¯.


    They came in a variety of colours, but all served the same purpose. This particular insignia that Mordred had taken out was the rarest of the rare, one known as the ¡®Insignia of the Demon Lord¡¯. Even amongst rare and unique items in the game, this one had been infamous. The monster contained within was the coveted ¡®Demon Lord¡¯, a boss-type monster that appeared at the end of the game¡¯s second hardest raid dungeon, ¡®Hellgate¡¯. A special monster that served as the hidden final boss to the core story of the game.


    That said, there was only one way to receive this insignia and it had truly been a pain. It was given out as the grand-prize in an event known as the ¡®World PvP Tournament¡¯ organized by the game¡¯s developers. Suffice it to say, Mordred hadn¡¯t been as strong as he was back then, so it really was a hard-fought victory. Unfortunately, though he held onto such a powerful item, there were no real opportunities to use it. A Demon Lord tier familiar on top of his already overpowered skills would only have been overkill.


    However, the situation has changed now. As confident in his skills as he was, the fact that there were no allies he could count on gave him a sense of unease. Even an A.I. controlled monster was acceptable. ¡°There¡¯s no use letting it rot in my inventory like this.¡±


    When he lightly tapped across the insignia¡¯s surface and it trembled in his hand as it let out a mysterious black light and miasma. With no need of Mordred¡¯s support, it flew out of his hands and hovered before him. It was minimal, but a certain potent pressure could be felt emanating from the gem as though a quietly beating heart.


    ¡°Now that I think about it, this is the first time I¡¯ve summoned a familiar.¡± There was never a situation where this was necessary. When he first started the game, the familiar system had not yet been introduced yet, and when it was he was already powerful enough not to need it. Interestingly, he stockpiled a bunch of different high-levelled monster insignia as a sort of trophy and to pass time.


    The intensity of the dark glare was dialled up to eleven as it temporarily engulfed everything in darkness. Even Mordred had been left momentarily blinded. When the darkness subsided, he saw a short and childish figure waiting for his words.


    The ¡®Demon Lord¡¯: ¡®Morialia¡¯.


    The girl looked around 10 at most. She unrestrictedly floated mid-air, her long black hair elegantly flowed around like the fins of a beautiful, tropical fish- glittering marvellously with a surreal prismatic aura. Her childish, rounded face smiled back with those cherry lips, her scarlet eyes staring back at Mordred inquisitively. It seemed like just a single glance from those eyes could peer through a person into the very depths of their soul. A single obsidian horn poked out of the left side of her forehead, revealing she was not Human.


    She wore a simple white shirt with black shorts that were propped up by suspenders. Having not quite the level of mastery needed for proficient flying, her black-booted and stubby little legs kicked against the air to regain her balance. Overall, she had a very ¡®playful¡¯ look about her, and the word ¡®Demon Lord¡¯ would be the very last thing one would use to describe her.


    ¡°Wait, I remember you!¡± the little girl- Demon Lord Morialia- exclaimed as an explosive flash of expression appeared over her face. ¡°You¡¯re the guy that kept on defeating me!¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Mordred asked back, although he already had an idea as to what she was talking about. The penultimate raid dungeon ¡®Hellgate¡¯ was part of the end-game content, so naturally he had frequented it to gather up rare materials and equipment. Since the end boss was Morialia, he had also faced her all those times and won without fail. ¡°Are you telling me you remember the times we fought?¡±


    ¡°Of course! How could I forget all the humiliation I felt each time you defeated me?! Heck, after a while you never even came to my room to fight me, you only wanted to gather up the materials around my castle! I was just the side attraction!¡± she protested while flailing her hands around as if a child throwing a tantrum.


    ¡°Interesting¡­ so you¡¯ve somehow inherited memories pertaining to events that transpired in the game.¡± Mordred didn¡¯t know how he should take in this information. On one side, he was glad she wasn¡¯t just going to be an automated A.I. controlled monster, but on the other hand she seemed to harbour resentment against him. ¡°So? What do you plan to do now?¡±


    ¡°Huh? What am I going to do?¡± she parroted his words.


    ¡°I¡¯ve summoned you through a ¡®Familiar¡¯s Insignia¡¯, meaning you¡¯re now my subordinate. However, by the looks of it you¡¯re powerful enough to break free of any control I have over you as the master.¡± Of course, this wasn¡¯t something that happened in the game, but it was quickly hypothesized that it was probably an effect of the game¡¯s element transitioning into reality. This was ultimately a good thing, because even if he didn¡¯t have control over her, it meant that this tiny lord of evil was quite powerful and would serve as a worthy companion. ¡°Are you going to serve? Or perhaps you¡¯re thinking of rebellion?¡±


    ¡°You think I¡¯d fight against you? The guy who treated me as though I was just a fancy dessert after raiding my castle like an all-you-can-eat-buffet?! No thanks!¡±


    ¡°Considering the ¡®humiliation¡¯ you said you felt, I don¡¯t see why you wouldn¡¯t. At least, if I were in your position, I would rebel even if there were no chances of victory.¡±


    The tiny Demon Lord thought about it by herself for a moment. She floated in the air while humming ¡®hmmmm~¡¯. ¡°Nah,¡± she shrugged off all that resentment with a light-hearted sigh. ¡°It¡¯s not like I particularly hate you or anything. Besides, it¡¯s because I lacked strength you could beat me all those times. It¡¯s ultimately my own fault.¡±


    ¡°Is that so?¡± a smirk flashed across Mordred¡¯s face. ¡°Then you¡¯ll serve me?¡±


    ¡°Guess so. You did summon me through the Insignia after all,¡± saying so, she then floated closer, almost until their faces were just within kissing distance. She stared right through into Mordred¡¯s sanguine eyes. If one didn¡¯t know any better, the similarity of their colour schemes would¡¯ve suggested that they were related. She winked back at him playfully, ¡°let¡¯s get along, ¡®master¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Likewise.¡±

 Chapter 5//Greetings from Another World

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 5//Greetings from Another World


    ¡°Hmm, so like, where are we even?¡± asked Morialia as she glanced around her surroundings. The only things she could make out about the place was the deciduous trees caused by the miasmic aftereffects of her summoning ritual. ¡°I don¡¯t recognize this place.¡±


    ¡°Truthfully, neither do I,¡± Mordred admitted. ¡°All I can say for certain is that this world is different from the one you and I knew.¡± ¡®This place¡¯ was neither the beloved world of the game in which Morialia originated from, nor was it the bumbling and harsh reality that Mordred had been familiar with all his life. A completely new, fantastical world. ¡°If I¡¯m correct, this world is known as ¡®Aria¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Aria¡­ nope, never heard of it,¡± Morialia carefreely shrugged. ¡°Anyway, assuming that¡¯s the case, isn¡¯t ¡®gathering information¡¯ or something supposed to be the first thing we try to do? That¡¯s what all those protagonists of those stories tended to do. I know my beauty is irresistible but don¡¯t get too distracted,¡± she slowly caressed her small body in a seductive manner- however ineffectual against Mordred it may have been- but quickly realized there was another, more pressing matter, ¡°actually, no, scratch that. Our first priority should be finding an inn; a proper place to sleep! I¡¯d rather not have to camp out in this cold, and surely it¡¯s your duty as my master to ensure a fine lady like me doesn¡¯t have to!¡±


    Ignoring the fact that she seemed to be misunderstanding the relationship between master and servant, Mordred could see where she was coming from. Being suddenly transported to a world where dangerous creatures like dragons roamed around, it would indeed be a wise decision to get a foothold of understanding about the place. A base of operations such as a private inn was also a good idea to serve as a place of information consolidation. ¡°Gathering information¡­¡± he muttered to himself, but another thought occurred to him. In this situation, there was a fine difference between ¡®priority¡¯ and ¡®necessity¡¯. At his and Morialia¡¯s levels, mere creatures of the wilderness- even a Flame Dragon- couldn¡¯t possibly pose a viable threat. Not to mention, as their bodies were fundamentally designed, it should be possible to go a few days without sustenance and still not feel the effects of hunger or exhaustion. That was to say, it wasn¡¯t strictly a ¡®necessity¡¯. ¡°No, there¡¯s something else we should do beforehand.¡±


    ¡°There is?¡±


    A calm and conniving smirk stretched across Mordred¡¯s face, one filled with enough malevolent intentions to send chills down a veteran soldier¡¯s back. He formed a ball of blue flames over his hands and played around with it, making it dance around and do tricks. ¡°We have to test our abilities. More specifically, your abilities.¡±


    ¡°Huh? But aren¡¯t you already insanely powerful? And I¡¯m the Demon Lord, so obviously I¡¯m no pushover!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t doubt you, and it¡¯s true that I managed to kill a Flame Dragon without much effort. However, a weak little thing like that couldn¡¯t possibly serve as a proper benchmark for what I¡¯m capable of. You, on the other hand, are quite durable as I recall.¡± He continued to explain as Morialia slowly distanced herself with an obvious face of foreboding, ¡°Well, don¡¯t worry. On the off-chance you die, I¡¯ll re-summon you with the insignia. It¡¯d cost a small fortune, but nothing I can¡¯t spare.¡±


    ¡°You¡­ you¡¯re a demon.¡± Morialia embraced herself. ¡°You¡¯re seriously going to hit a frail looking girl like me?! Do you not have even a shred of remorse?!¡±


    ¡°Hmm, no, I suppose you have a point. Such an experiment would only provide skewered results. Very well, in that case you have my permission to hit back. That way I¡¯d be able to test out my own defensive limits.¡±


    Within the game¡¯s system, enemies were tagged with the same class categories players had access to. The difference was that a set limit had been imposed on how many each monster could hold. Typical monsters and enemies usually possessed one, though there were exceptions in which they had up to two. The boss-tier monsters of raid dungeons all had access to three different classes, all at maximum level. Among them, the ¡®final boss¡¯ known as ¡®Demon Lord¡¯ Morialia was very special in that she had been given five classes.


    With a strong emphasis on the arcane, her set classes were: ¡®Necromancer¡¯, ¡®Magician¡¯, ¡®Cleric¡¯, ¡®Puppeteer¡¯ and ¡®Alchemist¡¯.


    ¡°No, that¡¯s not the¡­ oh, whatever,¡± Morialia conceded with a resigned sigh. Continuing to argue against the monstrous being who killed her several hundred times over merely for the sake of gathering materials was a futile endeavour. She understood this well. There was no reason he¡¯d show mercy now just because the situation changed slightly. ¡°Still, are you sure you want to do this? Though it may just be a practice match, unleashing even a fraction of our powers here could result in at least half of this forest¡¯s destruction.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine, or rather, that¡¯s the point.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Think about it. If we left such an obviously threatening scene, do you think that the people in charge of this realm would sit still? No, obviously they¡¯d come rushing in to investigate what had happened; a destructive event on this scale would pose a serious risk to national security. When that happens, we can take the initiative to do whatever we want with it.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°Say we wanted to spread rumours about how a powerful new monster appeared, we can attribute this to that monster and it¡¯d give credence. Or perhaps we could be the one to approach those investigators and pretend to be witnesses so we could curry favour for selling information. It just depends on what I need to do at the time; the effect can come before the story.¡±


    ¡°Geez, you¡¯re much more deserving of the title of Demon Lord than me,¡± Morialia reeled back a little. ¡°Haah~ if that¡¯s what you wish for, ¡®master¡¯, then this lowly servant shall oblige.¡± She flew away to create a bit of distance. Suddenly the side of her mouth curved up into an excited glee, ¡°ah, but, don¡¯t come complaining if I hit a little harder than you expect!¡± she shouted from the top of her lungs as she thrust her right hand forward.


    The clouds above suddenly darkened to an ill black, and from it a massive pressure of magical energy was exerted. The dark clouds quickly shifted red then to a bright orange as it swiftly parted to reveal what had been hiding behind.


    Grand Master tier Flame Magic: ¡®Meteor Strike¡¯. It was a spell that rivalled Mordred¡¯s own ¡®Hell Storm¡¯, at least in terms of Magic tier.


    Yet, upon Mordred¡¯s face was an unconcerned expression. ¡°Good, we¡¯ll start off easy then,¡± satisfied with the answer she gave him, he extended his own arm forward and conjured up a mid-level ¡®Knight¡¯ skill: ¡®Sword of Justice¡¯. Five holy swords constructed out of celestial white light appeared behind him and moved with the orchestration of his hand- as naturally as though they were part of his own body. Despite being the first time to use such an otherworldly, fantastical skill, he knew exactly how to manoeuvre the swords with mastery and elegance.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    The individual swords ranged about two metres in length and moved about in the air like fishes in water. Morialia floated in the sky with her chest puffed out, laughing away maniacally as she remorselessly unleashed upon her master one of her most devastating skills. Yet, that ¡®master¡¯ of hers did not show concern as he moved the swords straight towards the incoming Meteor.


    The two skills collided into massive eruption, and for a solid few seconds the sky was completely blackened out as flaming chunks of the Meteor¡¯s wreckage fell to the surface of the earth. Each fragment bombarding the forest with the power of a falling truck on fire. The nearby trees in the vicinity, if not already devastated, were caught up in the inferno. However, surviving still in the skies and brightly illuminating through the smog and ash were the five swords created from Mordred¡¯s skills.


    ¡°What the?!¡± Morialia shouted in confusion. ¡°How¡­?!¡±


    Cleared from the ashes, Mordred¡¯s unscathed form emerged. ¡°At the risk of sounding like a villain; this is the difference between you and me. Even the weakest of my abilities could rival your strongest.¡±


    ¡°Are you mocking me?!¡±


    ¡°A little.¡±


    ¡°Grrr! You¡­! I¡¯ll show you!¡± however, before she had time to conjure up her next spell, the five glimmering light swords shot straight for her body, aiming at breakneck speed with full intent to kill. ¡°Wait, hey! I¡¯m not ready!¡± she protested, but the swords did not stop. ¡°That¡¯s not how you ¡®start off easy¡¯!¡± she moved her hand to activate a more instant-cast defensive spell. A silver and ornate mirror slightly bigger than her body appeared in front to shield her. Grand Master tier Holy Magic: ¡®Heavenly Mirror¡¯. As the name implied, it was a spell that absorbed and reflected projectile based attacks with 300% of the destructive output.


    The mirror swallowed the five swords without trouble and only a few seconds later returned them back to the sender with even greater force and ferocity.


    There was a brief window of opportunity for Mordred to react. Instead of conjuring up a second spell to intercept the flying holy swords, he opted to change tactics. This was what he was waiting for; to test out his own offensive powers against his defenses.


    ¡®Holy Resistance¡¯


    ¡®Divine Shield¡¯


    ¡®Magic Shield¡¯


    ¡®Mana Deflector¡¯


    ¡®Natural Defence¡¯


    ¡®Elemental Defence Boost¡¯


    ¡®Hymn of Elemental Protection¡¯


    ¡®Alchemy Circle of Divine Protection¡¯


    ¡®Effect Dampener¡¯


    ¡®Mana Shield¡¯


    ¡®Paladin¡¯s Armour¡¯


    ¡®Titanium Skin¡¯


    ¡®Phoenix¡¯s Protection¡¯


    ¡®Undead¡¯s Tenacity¡¯


    Moments before he was hit, several layers defensive abilities were activated to ensure his safety. The following collision momentarily lit up the entire forest and caused a second massive explosion to rival the flash of sol itself. All the trees were knocked down from the mere shockwave as though they were domino pins. Even Morialia¡¯s position in the sky was compromised as she was knocked back a few metres.


    ¡°Whoa¡­ Whew! Fufufu~ foolish master, do you finally see my¡­ true¡­ power¡­? What?¡± when the ash and dust settled, the same figure clad with an obnoxiously bright white overcoat made to look like a lab coat appeared with a mocking scoff. As if to say, ¡®is that all you have?¡¯ ¡°Kuh, you damn!¡± Morialia¡¯s face twisted in anger, though still maintaining a minimum level of cuteness. Her hands burned with furious white flames as she shouted back, ¡°how about this then¡­?! Wait, what?!¡± the instant she thought to unleash her full fury, her master was not there.


    ¡°Come now, even if it is a practice match, don¡¯t think your enemies will just stay stationary for you,¡± a soft, calm voice whispered into her ears.


    ¡°¡­ When did you¡­¡± from the expression on her face, her heart looked like it would jump out of her chest from the sheer surprise.


    ¡°What do you mean, ¡®when¡¯, you realize I always had the ability to ¡®blink¡¯, right?¡±


    Before she could give her reply, Mordred moved his hand over to her forehead where he delivered a powerful ¡®forehead flick¡¯. ¡°Oh shit!¡± of course, contained behind those fingers was unimaginable power. Reflexively, her body cast an intermediate level defensive spell: ¡®Mana Shield¡¯ to protect her. Morialia¡¯s body rocketed back to the earth and kicked up a tornado of dirt. Perhaps she had even lost consciousness for a good few seconds but bursting out from that dust was a hurricane made of flames. Advanced tier Flame Magic: ¡®Inferno Hurricane¡¯.


    ¡°Good, she can still continue.¡±


    Interestingly, despite possessing countless god-like abilities, the one thing that Mordred lacked was the ability to fly. Thus, even though he managed to close the distance in the sky with the ¡®Blink¡¯ ability, he had no way to get manoeuvre or dodge whilst in the sky. Of course, it wouldn¡¯t be too much of a problem since the ¡®Soft Landing¡¯ ability would kick in and save him from fall damage. ¡°From sitting duck, you¡¯ll become roast duck! Muahahahahahahaa!¡± Morialia took advantage of her master¡¯s lack of aerial mobility to launch a surprise attack from the dust. The ¡®Inferno Hurricane¡¯ expanded and engulfed a good portion of the area and continued to spread out and consumed even her master. ¡°Die! Die! Die, you jerk! This is for all the times you killed me! How do YOU like it, huh?!¡± She giggled to herself as her sharp teeth revealed themselves.


    ¡°I think I need to teach your body directly who the ¡®master¡¯ in this relationship is,¡± a sinister voice whispered into her ears once again. A nauseous shock ran down her spine as her palms quickly gathered with cold sweat.


    She turned her head back to see not a single sign of scuffle or a spec of dirt on his pristine white coat. With one hand arrogantly behind his back, the ¡®master¡¯ pointed his finger directly at her face. ¡°What¡­? What are you trying to do?¡±


    ¡°I just got done telling you I could ¡®Blink¡¯, so why did you forget it so quickly? Are you a goldfish?¡± the master¡¯s finger glowed a sinister white-blue hue. An ¡®Advanced¡¯ tier of Ice Magic, ¡®Cocytus¡¯. As a primarily Flame oriented magic user, it was an element she had struggled dealing with. Above all, it was vexing to her that Mordred wasn¡¯t even using his highest-ranking spells.


    She knew instantly what this spell did; extreme burst, ice-attribute damage with a 99% chance of freezing the opponent and everything within at least a 200-metre radius. ¡°Uhh, that¡­ that thing about wanting you to die, that was just a joke- it¡¯s demon joke! Master¡­ you¡­ uhh, you¡¯ve got to chill¡­ ahaha¡­ haa¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry. We¡¯ll ¡®chill¡¯.¡±


    The land that Morialia had scorched with her ¡®Meteor Strike¡¯ and ¡®Inferno Hurricane¡¯ had frozen over by a thin layer of thorny ice particles. Whatever trees or objects managed to somehow remain intact were entombed in a case of thick ice with the durability of steel. At the centre of it all was a block of ice with a small girl frozen inside with an unbecoming expression of fear and pain upon her face.


    ¡°Honestly, the in-game lore specified that you were vulnerable against Ice-attribute attacks, but perhaps what you were truly weak against was the ¡®Blink¡¯ skill.¡± With this the experiment had reached its conclusion. ¡°Still, it¡¯s an overall acceptable result.¡±


    ¡°Mffufttbleeee?!¡± a muffled voice shouted from within the block of ice. Soon, cracks appeared on the surface and not long after, the glacial egg had shattered, giving birth to a small girl shivering from the cold. She fell to her knees and rubbed her arms trying to warm herself. ¡°A-a-a-acceptable you say?! Is-is-is-is that all you have to-to-to say?!¡± her words stuttered from the pain of being frozen.


    ¡°So, you managed to survive. Excellent,¡± heartless words came from the ¡®master¡¯s¡¯ mouth.


    ¡°D-d-d-did you expect me to-to-to d-die?! You fiend!¡± Morialia warmed herself back up using low-level ¡®fire bolt¡¯ spells.


    ¡°Are you dissatisfied? I¡¯m quite okay with the results as is.¡±


    ¡°You froze me! You actually froze me! I demand workers¡¯ comp! And hazard pay!¡±


    Mordred let out a sigh as he dismissed her plight. With a quick peek at the terrain around him, most of it could be described as ¡®devastated¡¯. The mountain he initially found himself on was no longer even there, and the nearby ones were completely toppled to the ground. Several enormous craters were marked all over the field. Half of the place was covered in prickly ice sheets, while the other half was a molten mess. ¡°This should be enough evidence.¡± The key was to make it look deliberate, this was so the higher ups of the country would take notice. ¡°We¡¯re leaving.¡±


    ¡°Wha-hey! Come back! We aren¡¯t done yet! You seriously used ¡®Cocytus¡¯ on me and you expect me to let this go?!¡± of course, ¡®Inferno Hurricane¡¯ was a magic spell on the same tier as ¡®Cocytus¡¯ but that fact was conveniently omitted.

 Chapter 6//Knight in Shining Armour

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 6//Knight in Shining Armour


    For the past fifty years Duncan had served dutifully as the chief of his village after having received the post from his late father- the previous chief. With an approximate population of only about a hundred-and-fifty or so it was a miniscule settlement skirting along the borders of their nation of ¡®Xagontetia¡¯. While it had never been the most exciting life one could¡¯ve lived, there was a definite sense of fulfilment that he felt every morning as he woke up to greet the friendly faces of his villagers.


    ¡°Ah! It¡¯s the chief! Good morning!¡± a few of the village¡¯s children came up to him during his walk and greeted. They were young, perhaps only about seven or eight, but had already begun to help out their families in their respective occupations. For a moment, the chief nodded in satisfaction and delight. Yet, there was always a lingering worry at the back of his mind on how many of these children would continue to stay with the village into their adult lives. Not only was the village unremarkable, it was oftentimes dangerous due to its proximity to the forest. It couldn¡¯t be helped if some of them would leave for the big, safe cities nearer the capital. Of course, sometimes they just wanted more in life than to waste away their time in this uneventful settlement.


    ¡°Good morning, children.¡± From the rough clothes and wooden sword hanging by their wastes, it seemed that they were on their way to go training with the local garrison. ¡°Oh? Is it Tuesday already? I suppose you¡¯re all off to the garrison for your lesson then?¡± there had been an informal arrangement with the captain of the garrison to teach the children on how to properly defend themselves and carry a weapon. It wasn¡¯t a bad thing, especially when it came to life on the frontier where there would be occasional trouble with monsters.


    ¡°Chief, do you want to come too?¡± one of the girls asked as they gentled tugged on his sleeves.


    ¡°Well, I¡­¡± being met with their expectant gaze how could he say no? ¡°Very well, very well,¡± he conceded with a chuckle and slowly tagged behind the children to the nearby training grounds. When they drew nearer they could hear the sounds of the troops practicing their everyday drill. Watching their efforts even the chief felt a little invigorated by their enthusiasm.


    The garrison wasn¡¯t anything spectacular; a moderately sized building attached to a square-shaped ground caged off by a series of wooden walls. The sight of young men all busily going about their exercises was a comforting sight for the elderly chief. At first, he never had high expectations for the troops sent from the capital; indeed, he thought they would just be the troublemaker type sent as punishment. However, this judgment had been proven wrong. Not only were they full of passion, their dedication had been warmly received by the rest of the village.


    ¡°If it isn¡¯t the village elder,¡± noticing him and the children¡¯s arrival, one of the garrison troops came out to greet him. This large and bulky man dressed in a fine set of chainmail had served as the garrison¡¯s captain. His skin had tanned due to his extended time working under a particularly harsh summer, and his hair had grown out a little too much and looked to require a bit of a trim. In spite of his intimidating frame and scars running down his neck, his bright and friendly attitude had gained the respect of the village- especially the children. Even now they were trying to play around with him as they swung around on his rather huge biceps. ¡°Did you come here for an inspection?¡± asked the captain.


    ¡°Inspection? No, no, I¡¯m merely here because the children had invited me to watch.¡±


    ¡°I see, then please stay awhile,¡± said the captain as he guided the chief to a shady area on a small hill overlooking the training grounds. ¡°So, you brats ready for your lesson?¡± he turned his attention back to the children.


    ¡°Yeah!¡±


    ¡°Teach us!¡±


    ¡°Come on! Quickly!¡± they all eagerly cried out for their weekly lessons.


    Being children their training regime wasn¡¯t too terribly straining: light jogging, push ups, sit ups and sword swinging practice. Despite the monotony of these repeated exercises, the children all merrily continued on with smiles upon their faces.


    ¡°Ouch!¡± one of the boys had accidentally hit one of the girls. ¡°You did that on purpose!¡±


    ¡°Nu- uh!¡± the boy denied, but regardless of his intent was punished with a smack to his sides. ¡°Oww! Come on, I said it was an accident!¡±


    ¡°Whatever! You deserved it anyway!¡± they continued to bicker.


    ¡°Hah hah hah¡­ What a relaxing sight,¡± the chief commented to himself with a smile. A gentle breeze blew past him carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and dirt, but all of a sudden it smelt of rusted iron. ¡°Hmm?¡± a strange, foreboding feeling prickled at his heart.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    As if to confirm his warriors, two wounded soldiers, with one missing his left arm and being supported by the other, rushed through the front gates of the village and ran towards the garrison leader. ¡°C- captain!¡± one of them cried out in a high pitched distress. Their chainmail had been tattered with blood smeared all over them. The amputated soldier¡¯s arm looked like it had been violently torn off by a ferocious beast.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?!¡± asked the captain. ¡°What happened on your patrol?!¡±


    ¡°It¡­ a- a- a monster! A big one!¡± they tried to explain, but before they could give their reports the ground beneath us thumped audibly and powerfully. Steps of a giant echoed through the vast and open plains before our village as the birds flew away in fright. ¡°Oh god! It¡¯s already here! We- We have to evacuate the village!¡±


    ¡°What exactly are you telling me is coming?¡±


    ¡°I- I¡¯m not sure what it¡¯s¡­ called¡­¡± the soldier¡¯s breath had become haggard and the complexion upon his face whitened as a sheet of paper from the blood-loss. ¡°It might be some kind of undead ogre, I¡¯m not sure¡­ it didn¡¯t have a head, but we couldn¡¯t even scratch it with our swords! Even if we gathered all the soldiers, I don¡¯t think it would be enough! Sir! We have to evacuate now!¡±


    The captain quickly turned to address the elder. ¡°Chief, we¡¯ll start evacuating the settlement, so please go first.¡±


    ¡°A- are you sure?¡± it wasn¡¯t that the chief had doubted the injured soldier¡¯s words, but in this part of the region monster attacks were never that rare a thing. They had repelled every one so far, but for some reason the chief¡¯s foreboding warned him that this wasn¡¯t like the others.


    ¡°Yes, please take the children. I¡¯ll have my men round up the village and escape through the back gate.¡±


    ¡°U- understood,¡± he nodded and gathered the children. ¡°Let¡¯s go, quickly!¡± he told them. Though they were very frightened, they did well just being able to cling onto the elder as they made their way through the village to the back gate.


    Thankfully, due to village¡¯s relatively minute population it hadn¡¯t taken too long for all to assemble by the back. There were still whispers and mumblings of fear and confusion amongst the villagers, but they all paid attention at the behest of the village chief. ¡°People, people! This is no time to be panicking right now. As we speak the garrison is trying their best to buy us time for our escape, so we should quickly move out and¡­¡± but before he could finish explaining their plan, the horrific monster reared its demonic visage. It seemed to have rushed past the soldiers and came straight towards them. ¡°But why?¡± he wondered but now was no time to be pondering. They had to escape quickly.


    It was a tall monster standing at almost four or five metres. Completely covered by fur as black as the night sky, and at the ends of each of its arm were thick, ivory claws stained in blood. As previously described by the wounded soldiers, it possessed no head but where the base of its neck should have been was a gaping mouth with rows of shark-like razor teeth. At the centre of its body was a singular, large eye that peered out to the world with a look of disdain.


    It belched a most threatening roar from its stomach and slammed its fists violently down onto the ground. As easily as a pile of sand, the ground split apart as large chunks of debris flew all about the place, destroying buildings left and right.


    ¡°That monster just rushed past us! How come?!¡± the garrison soldiers finally managed to arrive on the scene to confront this very terrifying picture of death. Even the village chief, who had never seen much combat in his life, knew that this monstrosity was way beyond what these local soldiers were capable of, yet still they valiantly stood in the way to protect the innocent civilians.


    Unfortunately, feelings alone were never enough to halt reality. A single swing of its mighty arm flung them away- as though it were swatting away a pesky fly. Several soldiers were sent smashing through buildings. It would be a miracle if they weren¡¯t left on the brink of death after that kind of damage.


    ¡°Ugh! How dare you run, coward!¡± the shouts of the garrison captain echoed from the distance.


    With a bit of physical exertion and some magical enhancements, he managed to close in the distance of about a few dozen metres in a few seconds as he thrust his sword into the eye of the monster. Yet, his attack had been easily intercepted as the it raised its furry arm to block the attack. There had been a subtle ¡®ping¡¯ sound as if the sword had struck against steel. The monster did not take the attack without retaliation however. Immediately following the captain¡¯s failed attempt, it swung its log-like arms, only barely managing to miss a fatal hit.


    However, the monster proved more cunning and faster than expected, as the next moment the captain¡¯s bloodied body was tossed in the air. No one could even track what had just happened, but in all likelihood the monster used its free hand to extend its attack and catch the captain off guard. His body flew for a good few seconds before brutally slamming back onto the earth. There was a massive gaping slash across his chest and it was exceedingly likely that he wouldn¡¯t survive.


    ¡°Captain!¡± the elder shouted for him, but that¡¯s all he could do. It suddenly cocked its body and focused its sight for the villagers that were nothing more than food for it. It released another ear-piercing grumble from its stomach, however, instead of going for the hapless villagers, it actually returned its attention back towards the downed captain. It raised its arm like a guillotine, ready to pulverize him into fine meat paste. ¡°No!¡±


    Without any hesitation or mercy it slammed down its fists onto the helpless man¡­ or so that¡¯s what one might''ve normally though, instead, something miraculous happened- a rescue.


    A young man adorned with a long white coat that fluttered behind him like a cape came to the rescue. He moved too fast for anyone¡¯s eyes to track, but with one swing of his mysterious, transparent blade the monster was cleft cleanly in two. Straight down the middle. With a loud ¡®thud¡¯ the two halves of the monster fell the ground and a massive torrent of blood started to spew.


    The young man then crouched down before the captain. ¡°Sorry, I was a bit late, but I¡¯ll save you now.¡±

 Chapter 7//Two sides of the same coin: The Hero and Villain

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 7//Two sides of the same coin: The Hero and Villain


    Seeing the injured man dying before him, Mordred felt a small twinge of guilt, but ultimately let it slide past him. It was a strange feeling that even though it was the first time he had witnessed such a horrific wound on a living person, there wasn¡¯t much repulsion or disgust- he felt pity but that was the extent. ¡°Sorry, I was a bit late, but I¡¯ll save you now,¡± he told the man as he crouched down to cast elementary-tier healing magic. Tiny particles of light surrounded them as the mana was being activated; like a reverse snowfall the light particles slowly ascended with majesty. Once he could confirm the bleeding was stopped, he took out a small vial containing a mysterious red liquid from his pocket: a health potion. ¡°Here, drink this,¡± he helped the man up and slowly poured it into his mouth.


    After a moment, the man burst up and coughed violently. ¡°W- what¡­?¡± he asked, taking several deep breaths as though he had just been brought back to life after drowning. ¡°Haaah¡­ haaahhhh¡­! What¡­ happened?¡± the man¡¯s injuries quickly disappeared like it had all been a lie. ¡°Im- impossible! How?¡±


    ¡°Oh, thank you for saving us!¡± an elderly man suddenly stepped out from the crowd of frightened villagers. From his looks he appeared to be around his late sixties, or perhaps early seventies. It was likely that this person was the village¡¯s chief.


    ¡°I¡¯m just glad I made it before the monster could do anything irreversible,¡± Mordred replied with a relieved sigh. ¡°I had actually noticed the monster roaming around before but failed to make it in time to warn you. I apologize.¡±


    ¡°No, no¡­ you¡¯ve already done more than we could hope for; there¡¯s no need for you to feel responsible about this,¡± the elderly man¡¯s trembling hands grasped tightly around Mordred¡¯s as he continued to thank. ¡°Truly, thank you!¡± After professing his gratitude, the elder introduced himself, ¡°my name is ¡®Duncan¡¯, and I¡¯ve served as this village¡¯s chief for fifty years. And the man who you saved is the captain of the local garrison: ¡®August¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m grateful,¡± the slightly tanned soldier stood back up to shake Mordred¡¯s hand. ¡°Really, I wasn¡¯t sure what would happen there. Hah hah¡­ Whew¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s no problem. I¡¯m known as ¡®Mordred¡¯, a doctor.¡±


    ¡°A doctor?¡± the soldier- August- let out in surprise. ¡°I thought for certain you were a swordsman or a hero. I mean, you managed to cut down that monster which none of us could even touch.¡±


    ¡°Ah, that¡¯s because of this,¡± Mordred told them as he revealed the Divine-class item ¡®Beautiful Demise¡¯. It was a thin, transparent blue sword made up of ice and let off a frosty aura. Everything about it had an otherworldly presence about it, as though it was something from beyond the realm of mortals. ¡°This sword was a gift from a noble I saved a long time ago. Regrettably, my own skills are paltry, but this sword allows me to cut down almost anything.¡±


    ¡°I see, that¡¯s quite the weapon. Comparable to the nation¡¯s treasure even.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but for now we should¡­¡± before Mordred could propose something, the voice of a little girl interrupted them.


    ¡°Big brother!¡± Morialia cried out as she appeared from the front gate and ran towards them. Her demonic features had been carefully hidden away through magic and she was even running as opposed to flying about, making her appear more like a normal Human. Since they had similar colour schemes, the story of her and Mordred being siblings was extra believable. ¡°I¡¯ve checked the perimeter; there doesn¡¯t seem to be any other monsters.¡±


    ¡°All right.¡± Mordred nodded then turned to introduce her, ¡°this is my younger sister, Morialia. She¡¯s kind of like an apprentice of mine.¡±


    ¡°A rather cute one,¡± the village elder joked with a small chuckle. ¡°Welcome to our village.¡±


    ¡°Right, as I was about to say. Chief, could I borrow one building to serve as a clinic? There looks to be quite the number wounded soldiers, so I wish to treat them. With your permission, of course. As a doctor, I can¡¯t let them be like this. If there are any injured among the villagers, I¡¯d be happy to fix them too.¡±


    ¡°Cerrtainly! That would be of great help to us,¡± the chief went along heartily.


    *


    *


    *


    It took almost two hours to treat all the wounded, and afterwards Mordred and Morialia found a moment of privacy and reprieve.


    ¡°Gah! You know, it would¡¯ve literally taken, like, ten seconds to use ¡®Light of Salvation¡¯ to heal everyone!¡± Morialia complained with a pout as she seemed to have felt annoyed being made to play nurse and run around. ¡®Light of Salvation¡¯ was a Grand Master-tier Cleric magic that had multiple effects: healing all wounds, replenishing health, mana and stamina, removed all negative status conditions and granted 30% total damage reduction for the next hour or so. It was an invaluable skill for high-level raid content, though a bit of an overkill to use on a simple village out in the middle of nowhere.


    ¡°Are you an idiot? I¡¯m not going to do something that eye-catching.¡±


    ¡°Says the guy who let loose that ¡®Hundred Eyed Devourer¡¯. If that wasn¡¯t eye-catching, then I don¡¯t know what else is.¡± Morialia shrugged. The ¡®Hundred Eyed Devourer¡¯ was a mid-boss to a relatively low-level dungeon, but even then, it had proven too difficult for regular people from this world to handle. In terms of combat strength, it sat just a bit lower than the flame dragon. Low-level monsters like these could be summoned through a onetime-use item known as the ¡®Monster Call Scroll¡¯, though the summoned monster was not a subordinate of the summoner. Instead, it was a neutral monster that could become hostile if attacked, otherwise it would simply go on a rampage. ¡°What was even the point of all that? You even went back to summon another one at the place we had our fake fight.¡±Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    ¡°Trust. And I wanted to test things out.¡±


    ¡°Trust?¡±


    ¡°As you pointed our earlier, what we need right now is general information about this world. There¡¯s no guarantee that these villagers would tell us the truth if a couple of strangers just showed up at their doorstep demanding it. So, I decided to put them in my debt first then have them talk. They¡¯re much less likely to lie to their saviour after all. Besides, while backwater villagers probably don¡¯t have too keen of an insight into the political situation of this country, it¡¯d also be less cause for alarm. Imagine if we went up to an important figure and asked questions, they¡¯d immediately think we were spies, but no one would become suspicious if we asked mere villagers,¡± Mordred explained with a callousness that didn¡¯t reflect a hint of guilt at what he had done. ¡°There was also my curiosity about the relative strength of combat-capable people in this world. I doubt a local garrison is a definitive measure, but I think I¡¯ve gotten the gist.¡±


    ¡°Then, what about the other Hundred Eyed Devourer?¡±


    ¡°Trust.¡±


    ¡°Again?¡±


    ¡°If something isn¡¯t broken, then there¡¯s no need to fix it; repeat what happened here. Once the investigators come to search out the site, they¡¯ll probably be overwhelmed by the monster, which is where I¡¯d come in and save them- putting them under my debt in the process. Afterwards, I can feed them all manner of falsified information suitable to me. I¡¯ve also placed my ¡®Spectral Observers¡¯ around there so I¡¯ll be alerted if someone comes close.¡± ¡®Spectral Observers¡¯ were an intermediate-tier Archer skill that summoned observers in the form of ravens as scouts.


    ¡°Are, are you sure you¡¯re not the real Demon Lord here?¡±


    ¡°Gathering information passively is inefficient and slow. It¡¯s the same principle as in PvP oriented games; rather than waiting for the opponent to make a move, actively creating situations for conflict and luring them in gives us better overall control.¡± Mordred let out a sinister smirk as he answered, ¡°besides, weren¡¯t you the one who wanted a comfortable place to sleep? I¡¯ve secured one for us.¡±


    A sudden knock came from the door. ¡°Doctor? It¡¯s Duncan, may I come in?¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course!¡± as easily as putting on a glove, Mordred¡¯s personality swiftly changed into that of a friendlier and more cordial one- even his voice had become lighter. With his permission, two people entered the room: the village elder and the captain of the local Garrison.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to thank you again for all your help,¡± the both of them told him. ¡°If there is anything you require, please don¡¯t hesitate to ask.¡±


    ¡°Then, perhaps I¡¯ll take you up on your offer?¡± Mordred then detailed his made up back story. About how he and his ¡®sister¡¯ were on a journey to perfect their skills as doctors and research more medicine. ¡°We¡¯ve been on foot for the past few months so we¡¯re a bit exhausted. If you don¡¯t mind, we¡¯d like to stay awhile in this village. Of course, we¡¯ll also be happy to help around if there is a need.¡±


    ¡°Certainly! Please stay for as long as you need,¡± the village elder was quick to reply. That was a matter of course, since this village didn¡¯t seem to have any medical professionals, and even the garrison only had very rudimentary knowledge on healing magic and medicine. For a professional like Mordred, his stay would immediately become a great boon to the community. ¡°Is there anything else you¡¯d need?¡±


    ¡°Well, perhaps a couple of things,¡± Mordred replied. ¡°I¡¯d like to help stock up the village¡¯s medicine reserves, so if you could, please bring me all the medicinal herbs you may have. I can probably turn them into more effective medicine for you.¡± There were two main reasons for such a request. The first was to see what kind of herbs existed in this world and if they were in any way similar to the ones from the game. The second reason was Mordred himself; the Alchemist class in the game could create many things, but most commonly were potions. Since production skills were less like traditional skills and more ¡®knowledge¡¯ he wanted to see if he still retained those kinds of abilities also.


    ¡°Right, we¡¯ll have them prepared by tomorrow morning.¡±


    ¡°Ah, just one more thing. This may be a weird request, but if you could, please tell me more about the situation in this country. Regrettably, in our pursuit of medical knowledge we¡¯ve been pretty secluded from the rest of the world. I figured it might be time to catch up with current events.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s quite admirable of you,¡± the garrison captain nodded. ¡°If you¡¯re fine with me, I could tell you a thing or two.¡±


    ¡°Then, I¡¯ll be in your debt,¡± Mordred thanked in advance.


    *


    *


    *


    This country was known as ¡®Xagontetia¡¯, the ¡®Sun Country¡¯. It was a moderately sized nation with a decent level of technology according to the village chief¡¯s words, though what that exactly entailed was a little vague. They were currently in the midst of a war against a vastly superior Empire called the ¡®Baliazoural Empire¡¯, but it seems they¡¯ve somehow managed to hold them off for the time being.


    Other than that, terms like ¡®Hero¡¯, ¡®Demon Lord¡¯ and ¡®Gods¡¯ were thrown around, but it didn¡¯t seem like there were any clear details surrounding those. The garrison captain had recommended that Mordred go to a library at the capital if he wanted to know more about these topics.


    ¡°I see,¡± as night fell, Mordred let out a sigh as he sat looking out of a window. ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s due to the lagged technological level of this world, but it seems information is rarely consolidated. Most soldiers don¡¯t know how the war situation is progressing on the eastern borders.¡± He had expected it, but it was a lot less information to go on. Though, the one thing he understood was that this country would probably lose the war simply due to logistics; the opposing Empire had a grander army.


    ¡°So, are you planning on helping this country? What¡¯s it called again? Xagon¡­ something or rather,¡± Morialia asked as she walked out of the outdoor bath wearing only a single oversized white shirt.


    ¡°Xagontetia? Well, doesn¡¯t everyone love the story of underdogs? I suppose I can¡¯t help but root for them because of it. Still, they¡¯ll probably lose out in the end.¡±


    ¡°Then you should do something. Use your magic powers and go ¡®pow!¡¯ and knock out the Empire. You did manage to defeat me- a Demon Lord- several hundred times over in fact, so an Empire is probably nothing for you, right?¡±


    ¡°Demon Lord¡­ is it? That does give me an idea. Instead of helping them out directly, I could augment their forces with some of my own.¡±


    ¡°And how do you plan on doing that? You¡¯re not just going to drop an army on them, are you?¡±


    ¡°Close. Perhaps I¡¯ll make it burst out of the ground.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Morialia stopped and returned a confused gaze.


    ¡°For example, an undead army bursts out of the ground from the capital, claiming that this was their ancient burial ground and this country so rudely built a city on top of them. Then after some shenanigans we can have this country and the undead form an alliance of sorts.¡±


    ¡°That¡­ okay, but if you do that you realize you¡¯ll never be able to claim you¡¯re the good guys, right? You¡¯re literally going to have the stigma of having associated with the undead.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it fine?¡±


    ¡°Haaahhhhhh¡­ Whatever you will, ¡®master¡¯. So, what do you plan on doing now? Like, right now.¡±


    ¡°Originally, I wanted to gather some information and go on my way, but it appears my decision to cause a situation in the forest was the right one. If we really had waited passively then we¡¯d get nowhere- it¡¯s all insufficient. Since this village is close to ¡®ground zero¡¯, it¡¯d be more than likely that investigators will come through here. So, we¡¯ll be staying in this village until the conditions have been met.¡±


    ¡°Well, I guess it¡¯s fine,¡± said Morialia as she jumped onto her soft bed. ¡°It¡¯s nothing compared to the bed I had back in my castle, but it¡¯ll do for the moment. Good night!¡±

 Chapter 8//The Old Guard

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 8//The Old Guard


    Strategic Operations War Room: Xagontetia


    Ever since their neighbouring power of the ¡®Baliazoural Empire¡¯ had declared war, the country known as ¡®Xagontetia¡¯ had been run by a joint cabinet comprising of the Royal Family and the top brass of the Ministry of War. That said, most members of the War Ministry were nobles from distinguished families and had obtained their positions not from merit but due to family background and political pressure- nepotism. It was something the royal family should¡¯ve seen from a mile away, but most of the ¡®goals¡¯ and ¡®plans¡¯ proposed by these so called ¡®Generals¡¯ were mere thinly-veiled excuses to increase their own territory and wealth; things like the ¡®safety of the civilians¡¯ or ¡®winning the war¡¯ were a secondary concern. Most of these people had never even what the front lines were like and were thus horrendously out of touch with reality; viewing the world through a map and pointing at what they wanted like some kind of buffet was the extent of their ¡®military expertise¡¯.


    So then, perhaps it was a testament to the hard work and dedication of the civilians or just their good luck, but it was an honest-to-god miracle that this country could remain functional with such an asinine government at its helm.


    ¡®These people probably have their escape routes all mapped out for when things go south,¡¯ thought the sole individual who could be said to truly be carrying the burdens and future of Xagontetia- First Prince ¡®Bradley Avon Leonhardt¡¯. With only a handful of competent officers, the first prince had somehow kept the Xagontetian military from falling apart and had achieved decent success in holding back the superior Empire. That said, ¡®we¡¯re nearing the end of our rope. If we don¡¯t get more reinforcements soon, we¡¯ll be overrun.¡¯


    ¡°So? What¡¯s your opinion, Prince Bradley?¡± asked one of the ¡®Generals¡¯. He was an obtuse man with an arrogant smirk and the only redeemable feature was his well-trimmed moustache and nothing more. ¡®Parasite¡¯ was the term that immediately came to the prince¡¯s mind, but he couldn¡¯t say this out aloud no matter how much he wanted to. The fact was, as horribly incompetent as these people were, they held a tremendous amount of power and could easily, metaphorically flip the table over on the Xagontetian nation. It was frankly revolting that he had to breathe the same air with these kinds of parasites, but for now he paid lip service.


    ¡°Sorry, could you repeat your plan?¡± asked the prince while trying to maintain a cordial demeanour.


    ¡°My, my, please pay more attention,¡± the jolly fat man scoffed.


    ¡®I would if shit and candies weren¡¯t the only thing spewing from your mouth,¡¯ so thought the prince.


    The chubby man walked over to the centre of the room where there was a map of the shared borders between Xagontetia and the Baliazoural Empire. He pointed his thick, greasy finger at the north-eastern border and explained his ¡®great plan¡¯. ¡°I believe we should focus our efforts on claiming this piece of land here.¡± The place he singled out was a non-critical landmass, but there were rumours it housed a rich amount of resources. ¡°Not only are precious raw materials said to be abundant, but if we can take it before the Empire it will then become possible to construct fortifications around it. What do you think?¡±


    It was so blatantly obvious why this parasite wanted that land that the prince couldn¡¯t help but cringe- subtly. While it was a goldmine for unclaimed resources, there was a reason not even the Baliazoural Empire had laid claim to that place yet. Three reasons: first was the problem with terrain; as 90% of it was swampland, traversing it with any number of units would prove extremely inefficient and slow. The second was the presence of very powerful and unknown monsters. There have been expeditions into the swamplands in the past using adventurers, but those that returned also came back mentally disturbed. There was something dark and evil lurking there that it wasn¡¯t worth the manpower to procure those resources. The last reason was its proximity to the war, or rather its distance. The highlighted territory was so far north it had no direct bearing on the war front; there was no tactical advantage to taking the land. In other words, this parasite only wanted to siphon resources to fatten up his own wallet.


    Given these facts, the prince¡¯s eyes twitched in annoyance. This farce of a meeting was almost criminal in how much time it wasted. There were a thousand other things he could be doing right now, but these idiots had kept him from them. The prince turned to his side where his aged father- King Aldern Avon Leonhardt- sat quietly while listening to this rubbish as if it had actual value. In the first place, it was his father that agreed to this joint cabinet for some inexplicable reason. Not only that, but the other ¡®Generals¡¯ all seemed to be in agreement with what the parasite was saying. Of course, they were all in it together to run this scam.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    While suppressing his frustration, the prince replied, ¡°hmm, while I can see your reasoning for the proposal, I don¡¯t think we should do that. That place is simply too dangerous for our soldiers, and the land around it is too difficult to traverse. We¡¯re likely to lose soldiers unnecessarily, and there¡¯s no guarantee we¡¯d be able to procure those resources. For now, we should focus our efforts on border defence.¡± The prince then pointed out more reasonable and easily fortifiable locations. ¡°Shoring up around here, here and here may be the best course of actions for the time being.¡±


    The parasitic general let out a disappointed sigh as if he were the prince¡¯s superior. ¡°Haah¡­ I had thought the prodigious First Prince could see it my way, but it seems you¡¯re still green. Listen, we can¡¯t win a war only by defending, sometimes we need that decisive blow even if it means taking on a risk. If we can get our hands on these treas- I mean resources, we can use it to fund our campaign against the Empire.¡±


    It was as if incompetence had taken human form and then took a dump, and that dump became this turd of a man in front of him. ¡®It¡¯s a miracle that he can even tie his own shoelaces,¡¯ thought the prince.


    ¡°Just a moment, Lord Paran,¡± suddenly another general spoke up. ¡°I¡¯m in agreement with the First Prince. Even if we did as you proposed and somehow successfully acquired the resources that still wouldn¡¯t solve our biggest, logistical problem. That being manpower, the reality is that even if we suited all of our men with the best equipment, we just don¡¯t have the numbers to continue waging a war.¡± It was honestly a surprise for the first prince that there was someone with a semblance of intelligence. The man who was just talking sense was known as Lord ¡®Bruont Aidus Shirley¡¯. His appearance was deceptively rotund for how intelligent his words were just now. ¡°If we¡¯re to win this war, then we can¡¯t do this alone. I propose that we focus on holding defensible positions around here,¡± he pointed out to a hilly area that had a good vantage point and continued, ¡°and hold back the enemy invasion force.¡±


    ¡°What good would just holding that land do? In the end, we can¡¯t win if we don¡¯t strike.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but it would buy us crucial time we can use to gather up potential allies.¡±


    ¡°Potential allies? Just who are you referring to?¡± asked the parasitic general with his obnoxiously high-pitched voice.


    ¡°There are two candidates. The first is up north: the nation of Drakenholdt. They¡¯re powerful Ascended Dragons that would share the same fate as us if we were to fall. I¡¯m sure if we explained this then they¡¯d see reason. The second is to the west: the nation of ¡®Ygdra¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Ygdra you say? Those seclusionist elves you mean? As if they¡¯d ever join us to fight a human war.¡±


    ¡°While they have been rather¡­ ¡®difficult¡¯ to negotiate with, surely they¡¯d see that the Empire would march onto their lands once Xagontetia has fallen. If we can set up a diplomatic relation, say a ¡®coalition¡¯ of our three nations, then perhaps that could tilt the scales in our favour.¡± General Bruont proposed. At this point the first prince felt like giving a massive round of applause. If it could happen that way, then there was certainly a chance to turn this war around.


    Before the meeting could go anywhere, there was a knock at the door. ¡°Excuse me, my Lords. Lunch has been prepared.¡± One of the female servants had announced from the other side. Of course, this was no time to be gorging themselves when they were at a war meeting, but it shouldn¡¯t have been a surprise when the Generals almost unanimously agreed, ¡°why don¡¯t we wrap up the meeting here for today and discuss it at another time?¡± and then left the room, leaving only the prince and General Bruont.


    ¡°Lord Bruont,¡± the prince spoke up first. ¡°I¡¯m glad to see not all members of the Ministry of War are hopeless.¡± It was a snide remark that wouldn¡¯t have flied if it wasn¡¯t Bruont who agreed vehemently.


    ¡°Truly,¡± he replied with a tone of disgust at his peers. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they sold out our country just to line up their own pockets. Or rather, I¡¯m more surprised they haven¡¯t already done this.¡±


    ¡°Hahahaaha!¡± the prince couldn¡¯t help but burst out laughing. ¡°If only there were more people like you.¡±


    ¡°You honour me, your highness.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s done is done. Shall we go for lunch as well?¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡±


    Yet, as they were about to leave for the cafeteria, one of the prince¡¯s subordinates had come rushing to him bearing a special report. ¡°Your Highness!¡± cried out a young woman. She looked to be around her early twenties but had a competent feel about her. Tall, with dark brown hair and stern green eyes; her slender yet muscular figure suited her military outfit quite well. ¡°There¡¯s something you should look at,¡± she passed over to him a monochromatic photograph.


    Photography had been a newly introduced technology, but there was much left to be desired about its practicality. The quality wasn¡¯t too great and oftentimes great concentration was necessary to even make out what the picture was supposed to be. It being in black and white was also no real help. That said, the photo given to the prince was a little clearer than most.


    ¡°It¡­ seems to be a magical phenomenon of sorts,¡± General Bruont commented as he looked over the prince¡¯s shoulders. The picture was that of a bright pillar surging up from the forest. Unfortunately, as it wasn¡¯t in colour, there was still a lot of mystery to what it was exactly. ¡°By the looks of the environ, perhaps the forests near the western borders?¡±


    ¡°It is as you say, Lord Bruont,¡± the female subordinate nodded. ¡°This picture was taken by one of our border patrols about five days ago near the north-western borders.¡±


    ¡°North-west? Isn¡¯t that near Drakenholdt? Are they planning something?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re unsure,¡± the female subordinate shook her head. ¡°What should we do?¡±


    The prince let out a sigh, ¡°as if the Empire banging at our door wasn¡¯t enough. Now this.¡± After a moment of contemplation, he turned to his subordinate and ordered, ¡°we¡¯ll need to investigate it. Send in Petra¡¯s group to get a grasp of the situation.¡±

 Chapter 9//The Good Doctor

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 9//The Good Doctor


    Even in this extraordinary world of monsters and fantasy, the talent to use ¡®Magic¡¯ was a rarity. No, perhaps that wasn¡¯t the most accurate way to describe it; it was rare in the same way Doctors and Lawyers were rare- due to the immense time and dedication it required learning the skill set. Technically, everyone could learn it if they tried, though most didn¡¯t because of the aforementioned problem of time consumption. Although, not that all magic was unusable. The majority of combat-capable people in this world knew basic augmentation magic: strengthening attack, bolstering defence, sharpening accuracy or amplifying agility. The thing that was truly rare were ¡®Mages¡¯; in other words, the ability to convert mana into a tangible physical phenomenon. So rare in fact, that if someone who had an aptitude for it joined the military, they would be given special considerations to skip ranks and be placed into an elite cell of Mages. Highly trained Mages could be likened to a very mobile artillery unit, and thus indispensable during wartime situations.


    ¡°Ermm¡­ Hmm¡­ how about if I do it like¡­ no, wait, that¡¯s not right¡­¡±


    Standing before Mordred was a young male soldier from the local garrison, ¡®Graham¡¯. His soft brown hair and rather na?ve-looking face suggested that he could not be any older than his early twenties- perhaps about a year younger than Mordred himself. Although he had trained to develop his technique with the sword for most of his life, he was admittedly not that great. He certainly obtained a lean but muscular body type with all that practice, but his actual skills were disproportionately lacking. Yet, by mere coincidence Mordred had noticed that this young man might have the potential as a Mage.


    Thus, Mordred became a ¡®teacher¡¯ of sorts, but¡­ ¡°you still can¡¯t do it?¡± Mordred asked with a slight tone of disappointment. Of course, none of this ¡®teaching¡¯ business was done on a whim; Graham had unknowingly become a guinea pig for an experiment. ¡®I wanted to see if the residents of this world could learn skills from the game, but perhaps that may not be the case. Either that, or it¡¯s just him¡¯. ¡°Well, I suppose it can¡¯t be helped. Converting mana into a tangible phenomenon isn¡¯t exactly the easiest thing to do without understand the theory behind it.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve only managed this much,¡± Graham replied as he conjured a small ball of flames that could be the equivalent to a flame of a lighter. Perhaps the stress of having practiced the same thing for over twelve hours had gotten to him as he shouted, ¡°bah! It¡¯s impossible, doctor. Honestly, I have no idea how you¡¯re so capable when you¡¯re barely older than me. You know elemental magic AND healing magic; just what kind of prodigy are you?¡± Graham sighed and slumped over onto the grass. ¡°What is this overwhelming sense of defeat as a man?¡± Though he said that, a few days ago he was unable to use any magic, thus the fact that he could do anything was a miracle in and of itself. As Mordred understood it, most people would not even be able to do as much as this young man had done in such a short time.


    ¡°You¡¯re still having trouble, Graham?¡± asked a voice that came from the distance. A female officer; she was a tall, noble-looking woman with a sharp gaze and long, silky black hair tied neatly behind her. Even though she wore the same issue of chain mail as the other garrison troops, she had somehow managed to make it seem more stylish and the allure of her womanly proportions were leaked through.


    ¡°Lieutenant!¡± Graham called out in a chipper tone.


    ¡°Lieutenant Marianne, good evening,¡± Mordred greeted her with a cordial, if a little professional, smile- the kind most would show when going into a business meeting. With his ¡®friendly¡¯ personality, within the past five days he had successfully befriended most of the citizens and garrison of the village. They all offered him an amiable relationship, like they had known him for years and was very welcoming.


    ¡°Sorry Doctor, for dumping this idiot onto you,¡± Lieutenant Marianne apologized. ¡°Even though you must be awfully busy with your work, we¡¯ve made you play along,¡± she said with a subtle hint of a blush on her face, though it may also easily have been the effects of the auburn sun as it was setting. ¡°Still, the prospect of having a rare Mage in our garrison was a little too enticing.¡±


    ¡°Not at all. I actually quite enjoy teaching. Since my sister isn¡¯t one to sit still and properly study, it¡¯s a refreshing change of pace for me to have such a studious student like Graham,¡± he told them as he turned his sights towards Morialia who had been running around with the village children with a child-like smile on her face. The ¡®Demon Lord¡¯ Morialia was known to be a free and rather immature character, though it was amusing to see her flavour text description enacted in real life. ¡°Unfortunately, my methods appear to be too hard to understand. We¡¯ve not been able to make much progress,¡± he told her as though a teacher giving an end-of-year report to a parent.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    ¡°Ugh¡­ my apologies, Doctor,¡± Graham expressed regret.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s not really something to be ashamed about,¡± surprisingly Lieutenant Marianne cut in to console him. ¡°Learning the fundamentals of magic and controlling mana is something that normally takes years to master. Most Mages have either studied it from a young age or dedicate decades to its research, so of course it¡¯s not something you could achieve in just a couple of days. In fact, just being able to make that small flame is impressive enough. It means you actually do have an aptitude for magic as the Doctor says.¡± Unfortunately, for Mordred a ¡®small flame¡¯ was not enough to test out his hypothesis on whether they could use Hellgana¡¯s skills.


    ¡°When you put it like that, yeah, I guess I am pretty amazing,¡± Graham joked.


    ¡°Heh, if you think you¡¯re amazing, then what does that make the Doctor? Not only healing magic but all forms of elemental magic; the word genius wouldn¡¯t be apt enough to describe him,¡± claimed lieutenant Marianne as though they were having some kind of show off. ¡°You know, all the Clerics back at the capital were all old men and women.¡±


    ¡°What? How come?¡±


    ¡°It just means healing magic takes that long to master. Apparently, you need not only a profound mastery of magic but also an intimate knowledge of the human body. Due to how absurdly complex all of that is to mesh together, even Mages put Clerics on a pedestal.¡±


    ¡°Seriously? Damn, just what is the Doctor then? Some kind of monster?¡±


    ¡°I think you¡¯re all overestimating me,¡± Mordred tried to reel back the compliments. ¡°It¡¯s just that my father used to be a Cleric as well, so I was privy to all of his research data. I¡¯m sure if anyone else had access to all that information they¡¯d be just as good as me.¡±


    ¡°Somehow, I doubt anyone but you could¡­¡±


    ¡°Ouch!¡± suddenly came the pained cry of a young girl. One of the children that had been playing with Morialia fell over and scraped her knee. Noticing this, Mordred walked over and crouched down before her.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Lily?¡± he asked in a soft, friendly tone. ¡®Lily¡¯ was the youngest child in the entire village, yet also the most precocious, often acting as the leader to all the other children. That bright child was on the verge of tears due to her injury but was soothed by Mordred¡¯s magic. A bright twinkle of light surrounded her wound and slowly- as though time were reversed- closed the injury. After wiping off the remaining blood, he gently patted her head. ¡°You didn¡¯t cry, good girl,¡± he said with a warm smile.


    ¡°Ah¡­! Ah¡­ umm¡­ thank you very much!¡± she replied. Her eyes brightened with adoration and admiration for the gentle doctor who helped her.


    Yet, in the background, Morialia made a sour expression as she saw this mysterious and inconsistent creature known as her master; ¡®whoa¡­ he¡¯s really hamming it in,¡¯ her face seemed to say.


    ¡°Oh!¡± Mordred jumped up, pretending to have just remembered something. ¡°Sorry guys, I need to go gather some ingredients from the forest. One of the plants I¡¯m looking for only sprouts at a specific time in the evening, so I need to hurry.¡±


    ¡°Ah, Doctor!¡± Lieutenant Marianne stopped him. ¡°Well, if you don¡¯t mind, why don¡¯t I accompany you? Going into the forest at this time of day might be a little dangerous. Not to mention we also had that monster attack a few days ago.¡±


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t the Doctor be just fine?¡± Graham interjected. ¡°He was the one who took down the monster after all.¡±


    ¡°Shut up, idiot!¡± the lieutenant whispered at him under her breath.


    Mordred thought for a moment and ultimately agreed. ¡°Yes, I don¡¯t mind. Or rather, it¡¯d be my pleasure. Then, please meet me at the front gate in ten minutes.¡±


    ¡°Whew! Way to go, Lieutenant,¡± Graham nudged at her as if insinuating something scandalous.


    ¡°I. said. Shut. Up.¡± She jabbed him in his sides to silence him.


    *


    *


    *


    At the outskirts of the village, several figures dressed in dark robes had gathered around.


    ¡°Mistress Petra, the specified location seems to be a little north from here,¡± one of the figures relayed.


    ¡°All right, then I¡¯ll move in first. I want the rest of you to encircle around and survey the area from different angles, hm?¡± as she gave her order she noticed a strange black bird sitting silently on a nearby tree. It was a rather ominous animal with its shadowy black body and eyes of dark crimson. If she didn¡¯t know any better, she would¡¯ve said it was spying on her, but to her knowledge there were no skills like that. ¡®Am I just being paranoid?¡¯ she wondered to herself.


    ¡°Mistress?¡± her colleagues called out to her.


    ¡°Oh, nothing. Anyway, we¡¯ll each survey the area and rendezvous at the specified location afterwards.¡±


    ¡°Understood!¡± they all agreed and vanished into the shadows.

 Chapter 10//The Hundred Eyed Devourer

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 10//The Hundred Eyed Devourer


    Petra, dubbed the ¡®Living Shadow¡¯. Directly subordinate to the First Prince ¡®Bradley Avon Leonhardt¡¯, she along with her unit served as one of the most elite reconnaissance and removal personnel throughout the entire Xagontetian military. While her duties often curtailed direct confrontation scenarios as her talents were suited towards more covert- black- operations, she was still an exceptional combatant. As a former Assassin who had once aimed for the famed prince¡¯s head, the bulk of her skill set rested with her exceptional ability to read the flow of enemy movement and capitalize on their mistakes and distractions.


    She was an exceptional soldier.


    ¡°¡­¡± however, perhaps it was exactly due to her exceptional nature as a soldier that something about today had felt ¡®off¡¯. As though a bird that could sense an incoming storm, the wisdom she had gained from her long life as an assassin warned her of the impending dangers of carrying out this mission. Yet, it wasn¡¯t something she could just decide not to do as it was a direct order from her superior. ¡°This feels like¡­¡± she muttered to herself under her breath. Yes, there had been one other time she had felt this kind of foreboding before. ¡°It¡¯s like the time I tried to Assassinate his highness¡­¡±


    The only time she had ever failed was then. Was the same thing going to happen today?


    That is why, for today she had decided to break the one rule of being an Assassin: being unseen. While normally she would carry out operations out of sight, today she had offered to play decoy. Out of her entire unit she was at least confident in her own ability to survive almost any scenario. Should the mission go south then her comrades would be in easy positions to escape¡­ or at least that¡¯s how she had envisioned it. ¡°¡­¡± she wasn¡¯t quite sure, there was nothing concrete about the parameters of the mission yet. Perhaps there would not even be enemies.


    Moving from shadow to shadow, tree to tree, she swiftly and soundlessly made her way into ¡®ground zero¡¯. Previously, when the border patrols had first encountered this bizarre mana phenomenon, they reported that they could not approach it due to the sheer intensity of the mana being moved around. ¡®Mana¡¯ wasn¡¯t something so volatile, in fact, mana in its purest form was harmless unless converted into tangible phenomenon by a Mage or some other medium. Petra suspected that if they wanted to, they probably could have just rushed into it to see what was up, but they didn¡¯t do so in fear of their own lives. It was understandable; if even a veteran like her had been feeling this daunting sensation, then perhaps for a mere border patrol they¡¯d be crapping their pants. As such, she had no intentions to pursue any disciplinary actions against those cowar¡­ ¡®cautious¡¯ fellows.


    As she advanced closer to her target destination, she noticed a change in the environment. The ground was half charred and half frozen; it was as though a massive battle had taken place and a vast portion of the forest had been blown to smithereens. Yet, that wasn¡¯t all. Some of the vegetation was still ablaze despite having been several days since the reported incident. Not to mention, this flame also acted strangely, in that it didn¡¯t spread or even let out any sort of smoke like typical fires. It still let off intense heat and the greenery consumed by it were charred to black cinders, but other than that there was no real impact. That said, the fire was not the only strange happening about this place. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Petra wondered to herself as she reached out to a small flower that had been encased in a thick block of ice as though it were intentionally preserved. There were several other places around her like this. Ice and frostbite formed around just like the flames. ¡°A fire that doesn¡¯t die, and ice that never melts¡­ exactly what is going on here?¡±


    After short contemplation she surmised that there could be the possibility of a new type of magic spell, but quickly dismissed the theory as absurd. Because, if that were true then it meant there was a monster out there that could cause destruction on a scale never before seen by mortal eyes. As if the Empire wasn¡¯t bad enough, she didn¡¯t want to imagine what kind of threat this monster would bring.


    ¡°Tzzz¡­ Mis¡­ tress, mistress,¡± suddenly the small transceiver attached to her ear picked up signal from one of her subordinates. These ¡®transceivers¡¯ were short distance communication devices developed by the technology department of the Xagontetian military. They were still prototypes and thus unrefined, but even with all of its severe limitations they were good enough to be employed during non-urgent missions such as hers where the objective was merely to ¡®investigate¡¯. In other words, her unit had been field testing these apparatuses. In any case, using these drained quite a disproportional amount of mana and required good coordination among the units since the position of the receiver needed to be known as well. If that wasn¡¯t bad enough, it had an effective range of about 150 metres, although even at that distance there was too much static and noise interference to be practical. Thus, the recommended operational range was within 100 metres. Still, for assassins like her it was a useful tool to coordinate with her subordinates since most of those operations would be within city environments, so their positions would never actually be over 100 metres apart.


    ¡°I¡¯m here. Speak to me,¡± she responded into her transceiver. ¡°What¡¯s the problem?¡±This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    ¡°There¡¯s no real problem per se, but there¡¯s something strange going on with the environment. Anyone else seeing this?¡± reported back one of her subordinates.


    ¡°If you mean the weird fire and ice everywhere, then yes. I¡¯m seeing it too, but¡­ what is it?¡± asked another.


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t say; perhaps an unknown spell?¡± Petra hypothesized. ¡°Anyway, we have too little information on it so stay clear it for now. Just scout out ahead with caution and report back when you see something.¡±


    Just those short series of exchanges were enough to leave Petra a little exhausted though not to the extent that it would hinder the mission objective. ¡°They really need to do something about the mana consumption on these things,¡± she commented to herself.


    After running along the devastation of the forest, Petra finally chanced upon something. With a quick sharp turn she hid behind one of the still standing trees. It appeared to be some sort of a monster though unlike anything she¡¯s seen before. A large monster that stood at about five metres in height and covered with fur so dark that not a single ray of light could bounce off it. It shoulders were almost broader than it was tall, and at the end of its log, trunk-like arms were sharp ivory claws. Yet, the most distinguishing part about it was its lack of a head, instead there was a giant gaping mouth lined up with rows of razor-sharp teeth at the top of its body.


    For some reason it stood still doing nothing. At first, she thought it might have been dead, but on closer inspection she noticed that it was subtly breathing. ¡°This is Petra,¡± she called out to her unit through the transceiver. ¡°Anyone else see that thing?¡±


    ¡°If you mean that giant headless monster, then yes, Mistress.¡±


    ¡°Should we attack it?¡± a subordinate suggested.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Petra conceded after a moment of contemplation. It was unlikely that this thing could talk or had any semblance of intelligence. Of course, checking to see if it was sentient may have been the more diplomatic approach, but she was an Assassin, not a diplomat. If the First Prince wanted to handle this with less violent means, then he would¡¯ve sent someone else. As it was, it had been up to her discretion on how to handle this situation, and she decided for now it was better to attack it then let it be. ¡°You guys wait on standby. I¡¯ll engage first.¡±


    Petra withdrew a pair of black and white daggers that were sheathed at her waist and readied them for combat. ¡®Sharpen Blade¡¯, was an augmentation Assassin class skill that increased penetration and wounding potential when applied to edged weapons. ¡®Swift Step¡¯, another Assassin class skill that increased her movement speed by 50% while making her footsteps silent. With those buffs applied to her she rushed silently past the trees and aimed straight for the monster¡¯s unguarded back.


    Within a second, she entered striking range from about a dozen metres away and she raised her black blade to make the first and last hit. ¡®Assassinate¡¯; her weapon glimmered with a beautiful and almost serene shade of yellow-orange. This was a legendary skill that very few Assassins even knew existed, and amongst those who had obtained the skill, no one had perfected it. Supposedly, it would glow with an ominous shade of blood red when it was activated to its fullest potential, but either way, this incomplete skill was still enough to take down this unknown monster.


    ¡­ Or that¡¯s what she believed until the monster¡¯s large red eye abruptly opened from the centre of its body and reacted almost instantly. It quickly moved to block her attack with its right hand, successfully shunting her attack. The only thing her attack succeeded at was trimming a bit of fur from its arm. ¡°What the,¡± she let out before retreating a few metres. The monster swung down as she tried to run away, but her movements were too fast for it. When she looked at her blade, there was a bit of a chip on the edge.


    The one-eyed monster suddenly let out a bestial roar that shook the heavens so much that the clouds had dissipated from the sheer pressure of its voice. The ground beneath her feet trembled when the monster rushed towards her. A single hit from those massive ivory claws would mean instant death, she could tell it was that powerful.


    ¡°Mistress!¡± one of her subordinates jumped in toting along a large kite shield. While the shield managed to deflect the attack, it had also snapped in half at the utter power of its attack. ¡°Holy crap, my shield!¡± he shouted as he stepped back.


    The monster raised its arm to smash the target standing in front of him into paste, but Petra stepped in and delivered a swift slash with both her daggers at full power. Unfortunately, even her strongest attack had not been enough to so much as scratch the thick hide of this thing. At that moment, several arrows flew towards the monster¡¯s back, but with ungodly- almost cheating- reactionary time it twisted its body and smacked the projectiles out of the air as easily as one might hit a stationary target.


    ¡°What the hell is this thing?!¡± shouted the subordinate who just tried to shoot it down with arrows.


    The monster picked up its pace and rushed towards Petra once more. Of course, with its speed it could never hope to catch up to the ¡®Living Shadow¡¯, but it suddenly activated a skill. The monster temporarily disappeared, not even its smell could be picked up.


    ¡°¡­!!¡± the ghastly form reappeared just behind her and raised its arm for an attack.


    ¡°Huh? Watch out!¡± her subordinate called out and pushed Petra out of the way, taking its attack in her stead.


    ¡°Lian! No!¡± Petra shouted. The monster¡¯s thick claws pierced through the man¡¯s body in several places.


    ¡°Ugh¡­ C- crap¡­ Don¡¯t¡­ underestimate me!¡± he shouted as he unsheathed a short sword from his waist and struck the monster¡¯s single eye. ¡°Kuh¡­ hah¡­ kwah! S- sorry, Mistres¡­ I could only¡­ take out¡­ its eye¡­¡± with a final apology the man¡¯s body fell limp and was tossed aside like a rag-doll.


    Petra rushed over to him, but by that time it was already too late.


    ¡°¡­ Thank you for your service, Lian. We¡¯ll take it from here,¡± she gently placed him down and renewed her resolve. Her sharp green eyes almost appeared to glimmer from the anger. Yet, her expression paled at the next moment when something happened to the monster. Its only eye had been damaged, but in its place, eyes opened all over its body- hundreds of shimmering red eyes. ¡°Just what is that thing?!¡±

 Chapter 11//Meeting Conditions

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 11//Meeting Conditions


    Alone, with the doctor¡­


    For First Lieutenant Marianne of the Xagontetian military, this may have been the biggest moment of her life- bigger even than the times she had to fight on the front lines. Right here and now, while her young heart pounded away furiously at her chest, she shared this bittersweet moment with the man of her dreams under a pastel-coloured sunset. Yet, the doctor was kind and caring towards everyone equally, and perhaps because of that aloofness it was likely that he was none the wiser about her passionate yearning for him. However, that much was okay, because a friend of hers from the capital once told her, ¡®the battle to love isn¡¯t about mutual feelings, but the process of making feelings mutual!¡¯ or something to that effect.


    Some may call her foolish, and even she thought similarly at how absurd it was to feel such deep levels of emotions about a man she met less than a week ago. Nonetheless, she couldn¡¯t help herself; love was a cruel emotion that turned logic and reason on its head. That said, even if it wasn¡¯t love, the probability that another man as great as the doctor would appear in such close proximity was dubious. At her age it wasn¡¯t weird to think about marriage and settling down. Just the thought made her imagination run wild; her waiting patiently at their sweet home for the doctor to come back from a hard day¡¯s work. There she would greet him and offer the chance to relax as the two became one¡­


    ¡°Whoa!¡± she jumped up at her own embarrassing fantasies. Her face burnt redder than the setting sun across the horizon as she realized, ¡°what was I just¡­¡±


    ¡°Is something wrong?¡± upon hearing her distress, the doctor came rushing to see what was up. His perfectly sculpted face wrought with concern about her. ¡°I heard your scream just now.¡±


    ¡°A- ah¡­ n- nothing doctor. I merely almost fell,¡± she brushed it off. ¡°Sorry to cause you concern.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s a relief,¡± he replied with that dreamy smile. In front of this man alone, no matter how professional she tried to look, it always seemed like she reverted to a little girl at heart. It was as though this man had been born from the collective fantasies of all women around the world. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯ve found a few ¡®Quadella flowers¡¯ here and there, but I still need a few more. Sorry, but please bear with me a little longer.¡±


    ¡°O- of course, please don¡¯t worry about me. I¡¯ll also help look for them.¡±


    Marianne, having been single for the same length of time as she had been alive, was finally feeling the waves of youth; first love.


    She loved everything about him. She loved the way he helped others. She loved his calming voice. She loved his smile and the way he showed concern. She loved his strong back and muscular frame even though he tried to hide it under his long white coat. She loved his soft black hair and piercing red eyes that seemed to see through everything about her. She loved his sturdy arms and slightly rugged fingers from mixing medicine all day.


    She loved the man known as ¡®Mordred¡¯.


    ¡°Haahh¡­¡± she sighed. If there would ever be a problem, it was that he was too perfect; someone who she could never envision being able to stand on equal terms with. Was it an inevitability she fell in love with him? Or was there something else?


    Where did it all start?


    *


    *


    *


    - Six days ago ¨C


    I had been just after the monster attacked the village. Lieutenant Marianne had been one of the first few soldiers to enter the fray and attempt slowing the monster down for the villagers to escape. Unfortunately, that had proven to be an exceedingly difficult task and with only a single swing of its mighty claws she was struck down. Her chain mail was torn to shreds like tissue paper and the wound to her body was most definitely fatal. Indeed, back then it wouldn¡¯t have been odd if that had been the end of her life.


    ¡°Mngh¡­¡± when she had regained consciousness after suffering such a traumatic injury, she wondered briefly if she was in the afterlife. Fortunately, the interior of the building was too familiar for it to have been the other world.


    ¡°Big brother! This one¡¯s waking up,¡± suddenly cried a loud, cheerful voice. She was a little girl; from appearance alone- cute- she looked to be no older than ten. As she called for another person- the big brother- a man arrived to examine her condition. He was a handsome young man with soft but mature features and a gentle expression. He wore a long white coat, kind of like a lab coat but looked much more expensive and of better quality.


    The man helped her sit upright and brought over a warm beverage for her to drink and regain stamina. ¡°Thank¡­ you,¡± her voice didn¡¯t quite come out properly, likely due to her near-death experience. Even though she was a trained solider, she still felt a little daunted by what had happened. Her hands were trembling just remembering how the claws of that monster tore through her body as though it were nothing; how close she was to death.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    While she was shivering, the man grasped her hand tenderly. ¡°It¡¯s okay, everything is over now,¡± he told her in that warm, reassuring voice.


    ¡°Is¡­ is that¡­ so¡­¡± she let out a relieved sigh. Looking around, she noticed that she hadn¡¯t been the only one in this room; there were at least a dozen other wounded soldiers all lying around on medical beds. ¡°Are they also?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re all the soldiers wounded from the battle against the monster that attacked this village. I¡¯ve treated them almost back to health and in just a few more days they should all be fit enough to return to duty.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a¡­ relief,¡± she nodded. That said, this person wasn¡¯t someone she recognized from the village. ¡°Who are¡­ you?¡± it was a little annoying she had to talk in these broken sentences, but there was nothing she could do.


    ¡°Ah, of course, I haven¡¯t properly introduced myself, have I? I am ¡®Mordred¡¯, a doctor.¡±


    ¡°A doctor¡­ so young,¡± she unconsciously blurted. Of course, it wasn¡¯t particularly meant as a compliment, in fact her words were steeped in more dubiousness than not. The fact was, most doctors and clerics she knew from the capital were old people, or at least middle-aged. They almost always had to be due to the sheer time and knowledge required gaining the adequate skills to be recognized as one. Thus, it was a doubtful claim for someone who appeared barely past twenty to say he was a doctor- a trainee at best.


    Yet, when she looked down at her bandaged body and touched the place she was supposedly wounded, she didn¡¯t feel any pain. In fact, aside from the aftereffects of trauma and exhausted stamina, it didn¡¯t seem like there was even a scratch on her. She knew for certain nobody in the garrison had any such advanced medical skills to accomplish this, and there was no one in the village either. Meaning, this person was the only answer. ¡®Is he really a doctor?¡¯ she wondered to herself.


    ¡°Is something the matter?¡±


    ¡°Ah! N-no¡­¡± she instinctively reeled back, her face becoming hot. Handsome, young men was the bane for almost any woman.


    ¡°Then, you should get some rest. I must go check up on the other patients,¡± he told her and left.


    The sight of this young doctor working so hard to help all the wounded soldiers was inspiring. She couldn¡¯t help but let out a small smile at his hard-working figure. During the next few days she learnt more about this mysterious person: that he was the person who slew the fearful monster and even offered to help the village out for no extra cost aside from lending him a building to serve as a clinic. In his spare time he would treat any illnesses or injuries the villagers or the garrison suffered. He would play with the children and treat them like they were his own. In a very short time he had become a central existence to this place, and one that brought an overwhelmingly positive change.


    He was like a ¡®hero¡¯.


    ¡®If only there was a hero like him back then¡­¡¯ she thought to herself. Marianne had grown up in a village similar to this one out in the frontier. There weren¡¯t many resources or much protection, but they managed to get by day to day. Yet, one day a group of raiders had invaded the place. They pillaged, burnt all the buildings and fields, and killed anyone who tried to get in their way. Her own parents were unfortunately among the casualty when they offered even the slightest bit of resistance.


    That incident was why she had become a soldier. She never wanted to see that tragedy repeated¡­ but even still, she wondered what might have been if Mordred had existed back then. Perhaps it was because of what Mordred meant to her, how he was the exact portrayal of the very ideals she stood for, that he made his way into her heart.


    *


    *


    *


    A sudden, ominous thought came to the young First Lieutenant, ¡®wait a second¡­ with the doctor being how he is, there¡¯s no way he isn¡¯t extremely popular!¡¯ it was a devastating realization. She was certain that some women in the village also had eyes for him, heck, not just the women, but some female children were probably aiming for him! ¡°Could this be more dangerous than I thought?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry? Did you see something dangerous?¡± asked the doctor, unsure of what she was talking about.


    ¡°Ah! It¡¯s nothing! No wait, it isn¡¯t nothing! Doctor! Do you¡­ do you have someone you¡­¡± At that moment, her question had been cut off by the echoes of a loud explosive sound going off in the distance. ¡°Huh? What was that?¡± they both turned their heads towards the direction of the noise.


    ¡°A double K.O, huh¡­¡± she thought she heard the doctor mumble under his breath.


    ¡°Did you say something, doctor?¡±


    ¡°Sorry, it¡¯s nothing. We should go check it out, there might be people who need our help.¡± At such a Mordred-like response she let out a small giggle. Even though it sounded extremely dangerous, this person never thought about the risks to himself and only wondered about the well-being of others. ¡®Really, maybe it was all inevitable¡­¡¯ she nodded satisfactorily.


    ¡°All right, let¡¯s go,¡± she said as she led the way- she was a soldier after all.


    *


    *


    *


    Petra laid upon the cold ground, most of her body refused to respond to the commands she gave it. She couldn¡¯t feel anything below her neck, not even the pain. Pivoting her head slightly to the side, the sight of a bloodied monster with a hundred eyes laid dead on the floor. However, that wasn¡¯t the only thing that was dead.


    ¡°Lian¡­ Arin¡­ Sasha¡­ Edgar¡­ respond¡­¡± she called out to her subordinates, but no reply came back. ¡°Please¡­ please¡­ somebody respond¡­¡± Even though she had been trained harshly from a young age to be an Assassin, and that Assassins could never show emotions, a drop of tear trickled down her face. Maybe it was because she was about to cross the borders from life into death, but all the emotions she had pent up inside seemed to explode out of her. All in the form of ¡®regret¡¯. ¡°Dammit¡­ I¡¯m sorry¡­ Prince Bradley¡­ I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll make it¡­¡±


    As she laid there, she noticed the strange black bird flying overhead. ¡°Ah,¡± then she realized why she had thought it was watching her earlier. When she was younger, her mother always used to tell her stories before going to bed. Stories about the ¡®Goddess of War¡¯ of many centuries ago. That Goddess would always use black birds as her eyes- scouts- to see the world. She was a being that stood far above mortals and was said to be good at everything. From magic to swordsmanship; from alchemy to necromancy; there was nothing she could not do.


    In her final moments, she wondered how unfair it was. Why were only Gods immortal? Why were they given such great gifts from the beginning while the mortals had to suffer?


    She reached out her broken hand towards the black bird. She wanted to grasp it. ¡°Damm¡­ it¡± her eyelids felt heavier. She was almost certain that once she closed them, there was no opening them back. Still, her exhaustion compelled her to her eternal sleep.


    Her consciousness waned¡­


    And everything went dark¡­

 Chapter 12//Proof of Concept

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 12//Proof of Concept


    In the game, the ¡®Hundred Eyed Devourer¡¯ was the mid-stage boss to a beginner-level raid dungeon. For its relative level range- around 20- it was frail, and most competent players could take it down with no problem. That said, it wasn¡¯t particularly meant to serve as a challenge, but more as a tutorial monster to show fledgling players about specific raid mechanics. In this case, it taught players about ¡®active threat management¡¯; when its ¡®obvious¡¯ weak point of its centre eye was attacked, it would conversely enter ¡®rage mode¡¯ which halved its defensive capabilities but tripled its speed and attack.


    In this manner, players had to actively decide which they thought was easier to take down for their situation. A party full of low damage tanks might be more suited to take on its ¡®normal mode¡¯, while a high mobility team composition might prefer its ¡®rage mode¡¯. Of course, the thing about ¡®rage mode¡¯ was that- even for some veteran players- it took a tremendous amount of skill to take it down while minimizing damage. Which is why, in his most sincere opinion, it was rather impressive that a mere team of five combatants from this world could take it down.


    ¡°What happened here?!¡± cried lieutenant Marianne as she came across the bloodied aftermath of a harsh battle. The land had been flayed apart by the signs of extreme violence, several shredded bodies laid scattered about, but most attention grabbing was the corpse of the monster similar to the one that attacked the village. ¡°Did these people fight this thing?¡±


    ¡°That seems to be the case,¡± Mordred nodded as he walked over to one of the dead bodies. It was a woman of fair skin and serene white hair. A brutal sight; her entire upper torso had been ripped open with all her innards on full display, her arms were broken, and she had been missing her whole right leg. Suffice it to say, she was dead. ¡°Lieutenant, I think this one might be alive,¡± he said as he secretly cast an intermediate-tier Cleric magic: ¡®Second Chance¡¯. It was a spell that temporarily resurrected dead players with 1 HP and 1 MP for about ten seconds.


    ¡°U- ugh¡­!¡± the horribly mangled woman let out a pained moan.


    ¡°What the? She really is! How is that even possible?¡± Lieutenant Marianne could not hide her shock. The level of damage this person had sustained was not trivial. In fact, Marianne herself had prior suffered a less potent injury but was still knocking on death''s door; it could only be considered a miracle of god that this person could hang onto life so stubbornly.


    The point of casting ¡®Second Chance¡¯ wasn¡¯t to revive her, but to show the Lieutenant that this person was ¡®alive¡¯. Of course, after a few seconds she would die again, however, by that point it was safe for Mordred to take her back to the clinic and truly revive her through other means. He needed to change the situation from the dubious ¡®resurrecting the dead¡¯ to the more palpable ¡®saving a dying person¡¯. In other words, this was akin to a sleight-of-hand trick. If he didn¡¯t go through this arbitrary deception, then their expedition would¡¯ve ended with them burying the corpses, and that wouldn¡¯t do. Inside the head of this ¡®investigator¡¯ was the wealth of information he wanted. ¡°We have to quickly take her back to the village! I can¡¯t save her with the limited tools at my disposal!¡±


    ¡°All right, I¡¯ll lead the way!¡±


    *


    *


    *


    After quickly returning to the village, Mordred requested that no one bother him while he was operating on the woman to ¡®save¡¯ her life. Marianne herself volunteered to go back with a few extra soldiers to bury the corpses of the other fellows that was with this woman, and perhaps retrieve a memento.


    ¡°So, are you going to cast ¡®Grand Mercy¡¯ on her or what?¡± Morialia asked as she watched from the sidelines. ¡®Grand Mercy¡¯ was a master-tier Cleric spell that fully resurrected a single target with all their HP and MP, but at the cost of 50% of their experience bar and a 20% cut to equipment durability.


    However, Mordred shook his head, ¡°no¡±.


    ¡°What do you mean ¡®no¡¯? Then, are you planning to leave her dead?¡±


    ¡°It would be a waste to do it so simply. This is a rare opportunity to understand our own abilities in detail. For example, the master-tier Alchemy skill: ¡®Anatomical Mastery¡¯, reads that as the alchemist¡¯s knowledge on anatomy increases, they gain additional proficiency and effect to transmutation-based skills. What I want to know is how that translates into reality,¡± Mordred then mumbled to himself about various hypothesises he had about the freedom of skills now that this was no longer a game. The biggest example was himself; he never studied biology in much detail back in his previous world, but if it was now, he felt that he could probably stitch this woman back together with little problem. ¡°I suppose whether this succeeds or fails, it would be a proof of concept one way or the other.¡±


    ¡°Well, if you want to play god, I won¡¯t stop you,¡± Morialia shrugged as she jumped onto one of the nearby beds.


    ¡°Play ¡®god¡¯? Don¡¯t be ridiculous; I don¡¯t have the hubris in me to view myself in such a grandiose light. In the end, I¡¯m still Human.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°At least you¡¯re somewhat self-aware.¡±


    Unlike how it was in the game, there was no restriction of having to target an entire body to execute skills on. For example, the elementary-tier Cleric spell: ¡®Heal¡¯, did not need to be cast on an entire person, but could instead be activated and maintained on a small scale. Using this concept, Mordred activated the skill at the tip of his index finger and moved along the dead woman¡¯s body to ¡®stitch¡¯ parts together. Though, rather than ¡®stitching¡¯ this action was closer to that of ¡®welding¡¯.


    At first, since he possessed no actual medical knowledge, even he had to admit this would¡¯ve been an impossible task to properly orient all the pieces. However, as he continued putting her together, he found himself ¡®instinctively¡¯ knowing where to put them and how to stitch them correctly. If an analogy had to be made, it was as though he were putting together a thousand-piece-picture-puzzle; it wasn¡¯t easy, but not impossibly difficult either. That said, as he continued, he came across a certain problem.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t good,¡± Mordred¡¯s hands stopped moving and he took a step back.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Morialia lifted her head in interest and asked.


    ¡°There aren¡¯t enough pieces.¡± That was to say parts of her body were missing. Most likely they had been damaged and destroyed during her fight with the Hundred Eyed Devourer.


    ¡°I hope you have a solution to that. After everything you did to set this investigator up, it¡¯d be a waste now if she couldn¡¯t answer questions for you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t have any solutions, but¡­¡± Mordred trailed off. He couldn¡¯t be sure if the ¡®back up¡¯ plan would go as well as he envisioned. Still, with little choices left, he pointed to a vacant space in the room and activated an intermediate-tier Necromancy spell: ¡®Corpse Carrier¡¯. To put it simply, it summoned a grotesque monster known as a ¡®Corpse Carrier¡¯ that was basically a patchwork of numerous body parts meshed together in an excessively horrific way. His ¡®plan¡¯ had been to use ¡®spare parts¡¯ from this monstrosity. ¡°I could ¡®purify¡¯ the parts I extract from the Corpse Carrier and implant them onto this woman, but there¡¯s also the problem with organ rejection, differing blood types, among a myriad other.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I have no idea what any of that means, but the way I see it, you don¡¯t really have another choice if you want to patch that woman back together. Or am I wrong?¡±


    ¡°No, you have a point,¡± he conceded. ¡°I suppose there¡¯s no use in crying over spilt milk.¡±


    Going with his plan, Mordred continued to patch the body of this woman together. The overall process had taken about twelve straight hours, but the finished product looked remarkably alive even though she was dead. Looking at her completed body, she was a fairly mature woman, perhaps in her mid-to-late twenties. Her hair was a long, silky silver and her complexion was pale despite having been a fighter. She was slender, but also had healthy muscles where it mattered- most likely a by-product of routine training and proper diet. Her hands in particular had developed callouses from having gripped the handle of a dagger for too long.


    From what Mordred could see of her fight, she seemed to be an ¡®Assassin¡¯. This explained why she had been so pale, since that class often preferred to not be under any light.


    ¡°Hey, before you bring her back to life, I wanted to ask if this was all necessary.¡± Morialia interrupted. ¡°You said it was supposed to be a proof of concept, but what do you mean by that?¡±


    Mordred thought about it for a moment and uttered one word, ¡°extra.¡±


    ¡°Extra?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll become more apparent once we get to the capital, but our biggest problem is a lack of trustworthy allies. The ¡®Familiar Insignias¡¯ can only be used to summon one familiar at a time, and since you¡¯re the strongest, there¡¯s no reason to summon anything else. Summoned monsters from class skills are extremely limited as they possess no real intelligence and are good only for menial tasks. I have thought about anonymously outsourcing help but doing it that way carries too many assumptions and risks. Which leaves only one other option, to ¡®create¡¯ my own allies. If this experiment proves successful, then my options expand.¡±


    ¡°Wait, I thought you said you weren¡¯t going to play god.¡±


    ¡°Who said only gods can create life?¡±


    ¡°You really want to¡­ haaaahhhh¡­¡± Morialia let out a lengthy sigh. ¡°Fine, whatever. I will not be held responsible for whatever happens then. Good luck to you, master!¡±


    All that was left was to give life back to this body. The intermediate-tier Cleric spell: ¡®Holy Decree¡¯ was a relatively bad resurrection spell in that it was only one step above ¡®Second chance¡¯. It still revived people with 1 HP and 1 MP, but there was no ten second time limit. In this situation it was the perfect skill as it would serve as proof that his knowledge had indeed been improved with the various ¡®mastery¡¯ skills.


    Mordred stretched out his arms, and a tranquil, glimmering breeze surrounded the woman¡¯s corpse. As the light entered her body, signs of renewed life appeared. First her chest moved up and down as she began to breathe, and next the tips of her fingers twitched. ¡°Prince¡­ Bradley¡­ I¡¯m sorry¡­¡± she muttered an unfamiliar name in her slumber. Things already looked very promising for Mordred.


    ¡°Did it work?¡± suddenly interested, Morialia asked as she jumped off the bed and walked over to the operating table where the woman¡¯s body had been laid.


    ¡°Most likely, though I want to study her condition closely for a few more days after this. It¡¯d be a problem if there were some unknown side effects.¡±


    ¡°Mnnn¡­ huh?¡± slowly, the woman¡¯s eyes peeled open, revealing a serene emerald gaze. ¡°What¡­¡± there were clear signs of distress on her face, but she would have had no stamina to act on those impulses. When she gazed down and noticed she was naked, she quickly reeled back and tried to cover herself.


    ¡°Careful,¡± Mordred called out to her. Like a frightened animal, she flinched when he tried to approach. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not going to do anything to you. I know you might be feeling a little confused right now, but you can trust me. You were very close to death, so I had to operate on you to save your life.¡±


    ¡°Dea¡­ th?¡± she made a pained expression. ¡°What¡­ happened¡­?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯d like to ask you. Ah, but first, please cover yourself with this,¡± Mordred took off his white overcoat and passed it over to her. ¡°Now then, please tell me everything you remember.¡± However, when she had remained silent, Mordred felt that something was wrong.


    ¡°I¡­ Who am¡­ I?¡± asked the woman.


    ¡°PFffftttt¡­! Aaaaa ahaahahahaaahahahaaa!¡± Morialia suddenly burst out laughing in that annoyingly high-pitched voice of hers. ¡°Oh man! There go all your plans out the window! Amnesia! This is gold; I bet even you weren¡¯t planning for a curve ball, now where you?¡±

 Chapter 13//Planning Moves Ahead

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 13//Planning Moves Ahead


    ¡°How does your body feel?¡± Mordred asked of the amnesiac woman as he continued to check up on her. ¡°Any irregularities? Does anything feel off or painful?¡±


    ¡°Umm, not quite,¡± the woman responded with a hint of discomfort in her voice. Indeed, how could she not feel a little intruded upon when a man she didn¡¯t even know was touching around her body? For medical reasons of course, but it must¡¯ve still been a tad embarrassing. ¡°I, um, nothing feels wrong with me. You told me I was in a bad shape, but everything seems okay now.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± Mordred let out an inquisitive hum. ¡°Could be that recovering from the dead multiple times has affected your memory,¡± he mumbled under his breath just quietly enough that the woman could not catch what he had said. After having checked everything multiple times through the knowledge he had inherited from various medical related mastery skills, he concluded that this woman was perfectly fine. Aside from the initial amnesia there were no other problems regarding her health or with the ¡®spare organs¡¯ he had implanted onto her. ¡°It appears you have some early symptoms of a cold, but nothing major. Still, I¡¯d like for you to stay here for a while, so I can continue to monitor your condition.¡±


    ¡°That¡­ may be for the best. I¡¯m not sure where else I could go¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course, how remiss of me. You¡¯re free to stay as long as you like,¡± Mordred told her with a warm smile. ¡°I¡¯d like to give you your own room, but for now please use the beds at the clinic until everything is sorted.¡±


    Feeling relieved, she returned a meek nod, ¡°I¡¯m grateful, Doctor. For everything.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a problem. Let¡¯s see¡­¡± Mordred then turned to his ¡®sister¡¯ and ordered, ¡°Morialia, please bring her something to eat. Preferably just something light, like soup and bread, until her system is properly functional.¡±


    ¡°Sure, sure,¡± Morialia replied with a yawn and left the room.


    ¡°That¡¯s right, do you remember your name?¡±


    ¡°My¡­ Name?¡± the woman thought to herself for a moment but shook her head. ¡°No, I remember nothing¡­ sorry.¡±


    ¡°How about the name, ¡®Prince Bradley¡¯?¡±


    When she was asked that, she had a reaction. She froze for a moment but then her expression soured. ¡°Prince¡­ Bradley? I feel like I should know¡­ but when I try to think about it, nothing comes out. Could¡­ could it be something is wrong with me?¡± she seemed a little spooked.


    ¡°No, it¡¯s perfectly normal,¡± he reassured. ¡°It was a name you called out while you were unconscious. I thought it might jog your memory, but if it doesn¡¯t, don¡¯t worry too much about it for the moment. What we should focus on is getting you back to health. We can figure out what to do once we do that.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± she nodded.


    ¡°Still, it¡¯s quite cumbersome to go without a name. Do you have anything you wish to be called temporarily?¡±


    ¡°Umm, I¡¯m not sure¡­¡±


    ¡°How about ¡®Ann¡¯? It¡¯s a short and simple name, though fairly generic.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I see no problem with it.¡±


    ¡°Wonderful. Take a rest now; I¡¯ll be around if you need me,¡± he told her as he guided her to one of the clinic¡¯s beds and left.


    *


    *


    *


    ¡°Mnn¡­ Thirsty¡­¡± upon being woken from her peaceful slumber in the middle of the night due to a sudden rush of cold wind leaking through the window, Morialia felt a little parched and came downstairs for a drink. On her way she spotted her master laboriously slaving away with a frustrated look of contemplation as he sat quietly at his desk. He still wore his lab coat-like coat, meaning he hadn¡¯t taken a break since morning yesterday. A small makeshift lamp constructed out of magical stones illuminated several curious objects resting before him.


    Turning her attention towards a nearby wall where the clock was set, it read half-past-two in the morning. A godforsaken hour where only the sounds of small nocturnal insects could be heard from the blackness that was the world outside the window. ¡°What¡¯s this, master, you¡¯re still working this late?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Morialia,¡± he acknowledged her presence. Though neither of their bodies required any sleep or sustenance to maintain health, there was a wearily exhausted look upon her master¡¯s usually stern face. It hadn¡¯t been from physical fatigue, but likely seemed to have stemmed from the accumulated stress of thinking about something. ¡°That should be my question; what are you doing still up?¡± he reflected. ¡°You¡¯re the one who demanded a comfortable bed to sleep, so why aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I came down to get a quick drink,¡± she shrugged. ¡°So, what¡¯cha looking at?¡± she peered over his shoulders and saw a couple of interesting objects. The first was a small earring-like object with a glimmering red crystal attached to it, and the other was a pair of daggers- one white, one black. ¡°Oohh, pretty,¡± she commented about the earring and picked it up. She excitedly placed it over her left ear and showed it to her master, ¡°how do I look?¡±


    ¡°It looks fine,¡± he replied without emotion.


    ¡°Can I have it?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Cheapskate!¡±


    Mordred let out a tired sigh. ¡°That¡¯s an important piece of¡­ well, I suppose you could call it ¡®technology¡¯ from this world.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Really? What does it do?¡±


    ¡°In simple terms, it¡¯s a ¡®transceiver¡¯. If you have a pair of these set to parallel magical frequencies, it¡¯s possible communicate over a long distance. The distance and clarity of the transmission seems to be dependent on the amount of mana a person pours into it. In addition, the required mana also increases exponentially as the distance widens. Between us, we should be able to use this with relative ease of a few kilometres- ten if we put in some effort. Though, I¡¯m still unsure how much distance an ordinary person of this world could cover before it becomes too mana-heavy.¡±


    ¡°Heeh¡­ That¡¯s impressive,¡± Morialia nodded. ¡°If I had something like this back in our previous world, maybe my invasion of you Humans would¡¯ve gone a lot more smoothly. I might even have succeeded,¡± she muttered a small, mischievous chuckle. ¡°It¡¯s a real shame.¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°Even if you had it, I doubt it would¡¯ve made any difference.¡±


    ¡°Why do you say that?¡±


    ¡°Because I exist.¡±


    ¡°¡­ Really? You¡¯re going to be like that?¡± she let out a sigh. ¡°Fine, whatever.¡±


    ¡°Still, as impressive as that is, the real problem is this,¡± Mordred commented as he tapped on the table before the two resting daggers. He then asked her, ¡°do you know what these are?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± obviously they were old-looking daggers- about a few decades? She picked up the black one and inspected in closer detail, then a cold chill suddenly crawled over her body. She never actively carried one of these herself, but she knew of them. In their previous world, these things were known to be dangerous when in the right hands. In fact, her predecessor- the previous Demon Lord- had been felled by these. ¡°Wait¡­ is this?!¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± her master nodded with a look of seriousness. ¡°This is an ¡®Ego Weapon¡¯.¡±


    ¡®Ego Weapons¡¯ were very special weapons infused with a personality; in their own right they could be classified as sentient, living beings. Their creation process wasn¡¯t too difficult, though it required master levels in both ¡®blacksmith¡¯ and ¡®artificer¡¯, along with a truckload of rare materials. The weapon that would serve as the crucible to the ¡®Weapon Ego¡¯ also needed to be a high quality, otherwise the creation process with ¡®fail¡¯, resulting in the loss of both the weapon, all the materials and the Weapon Ego.


    The Weapon Ego came in the form of rare stones- ¡®Ego Stones¡¯- that could only be procured as rare drops from high-level dungeons. They were infamous as obtaining even one of them could take several hours of pure grinding. However, once a player did manage to get one, what made these ¡®Ego Weapons¡¯ frightening was that they could grow more powerful as they were continuously used and maintained- though there was a limit. Once these weapons reached their peak strength, they were monstrous end-game weapons that could kill even Morialia in a few swings- provided the wielder was strong enough as well.


    Feeling a sense of foreboding from these daggers, Morialia gently placed it back down onto the table and retreated a step or two.


    ¡°But wait, aren¡¯t Ego Weapons supposed to have that blue glow around them?¡± As she knew them, a glimmering blue tint would always accompany the Ego Weapons and let out a magnificent and deadly aura. Yet, these looked just like ordinary- perhaps a bit fancy- old daggers. She certainly wasn¡¯t mistaken about the sensation they let off when she touched them but looking at it from a distance, they didn¡¯t appear all that special.


    ¡°That¡¯s because they haven¡¯t been awakened.¡± Mordred explained as he picked one up and asked, ¡°want me to activate it?¡±


    ¡°Wuh, no! Are you crazy?!¡±


    A silent, mocking scoff left her master¡¯s spiteful mouth as he revealed a sadistic grin. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I wouldn¡¯t be able to awaken someone else¡¯s Ego Weapon in the first place. Are you really that afraid of these?¡±


    ¡°My dad was killed by one! Of course I¡¯d be scared, you sadist!¡±


    ¡°Ah, my condolences.¡±


    ¡°When the guy who killed me several hundred times says something like that¡­ forgive me if I don¡¯t buy it. Whatever, where¡¯d you even find this any way? It¡¯s not yours, right? You said you couldn¡¯t activate someone else¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°It belonged to the woman I resurrected, but¡­¡± he trailed off as his eyes grew cold and distant.


    ¡°But what?¡±


    ¡°¡­¡± he ignored her for a moment as he paused to think. ¡°No, it couldn¡¯t be¡­¡± he then turned to pose a seemingly unrelated question, ¡°exactly how much do you remember about the game¡­ about our previous world?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean ¡®how much do I remember¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Specifically, do you remember a woman named ¡®Eris¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Eris?¡± she searched her brain for that name, but nothing concrete came up. ¡°Hmm, not particularly. Is she someone I should know?¡±


    However, her master did not answer and mumbled incoherently to himself. ¡°Interesting. Even though every player is technically a hero in their own playthrough, she only recognizes me¡­ could it be because she was summoned through me?¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about? Does that ¡®Eris¡¯ woman have something to do with these daggers?¡±


    Her master glanced over the daggers and clicked his tongue. ¡°The problem is the Ego itself, or rather how the Ego is set up. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve noticed already, but the Ego in these daggers are a bit special, in that they are ¡®twins¡¯. The creation of a ¡®Twin Ego¡¯ is extremely difficult that you could count the number of people who owned these on one hand- even I don¡¯t own one. Not only is the success rate for cutting an Ego Stone perfectly in half absurdly low, the two crucible weapons needed to have exactly the same random stat bonus rolls.¡± When creating a weapon, ¡®random stats¡¯ were given on top of the base stats as a bonus for taking the time to ¡®craft¡¯ them, but there was no control over how much or how little the bonuses were. Thus, having two weapons with the same bonus stats was an incredibly rare phenomenon. That said, it wasn¡¯t particularly that bad since the ¡®failed¡¯ ones could be sold off to other players to recoup some losses.


    ¡°Yeah, but so what? Are you saying these daggers belonged to that Eris person?¡±


    ¡°¡­ I don¡¯t know,¡± her master answered. ¡°Eris¡¯ playstyle always revolved around dual weaponry; dual swords, dual axes, dual maces, dual war-hammers, even dual crossbows¡­ which I don¡¯t understand how she made work. And of course,¡± he tapped across the table once more, ¡°dual daggers.¡± He sighed as he continued, ¡°in the past she told me she liked the concept of ¡®duality¡¯, so she kept one weapon painted white and the other black.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that a perfect match?¡±


    ¡°¡­ No,¡± he shook his head. ¡°Because Eris¡¯ Twin Ego Weapon weren¡¯t daggers. She used Twin Ego Swords. On top of that, it¡¯s impossible for a person to have more than one Ego Weapon- twin weaponry excepted. If she wanted to make these dual daggers into Twin Egos for herself, she¡¯d first have to destroy the ones she already owned, which I don¡¯t believe is something she¡¯d do.¡±


    ¡°But, it¡¯s not impossible right? Maybe she did break her previous ego weapons.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ unlikely. The last time I saw Eris was a year back, but the ruggedness and used state of these daggers easily give off the impression they¡¯ve existed for decades. I vividly remember her with her Twin Ego Swords back then¡­¡±


    ¡°Well, then it¡¯s a coincidence.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a little premature to conclude one way or the other. There are too many ¡®coincidences¡¯ for it to just be a mere happenstance of chance. It¡¯s too similar to Eris¡¯ style, but at the same time a black/white theme on weapons isn¡¯t exactly all that rare. And who¡¯s to say that Ego weapons can¡¯t exist in this world?¡± He commented in annoyance, ¡°tch, if only I could see its status, I¡¯d be able to determine the owner.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± Morialia carefully studied her master¡¯s face which had been conflicted. She wasn¡¯t sure if he was happy or sad that these weapons could belong to a former friend of his. ¡°Who is this ¡®Eris¡¯ woman supposed to be anyway? Was she your lover?¡±


    ¡°Are you one of those? The kind that doesn¡¯t believe men and women can be just friends?¡±


    ¡°Well, it isn¡¯t easy.¡±


    ¡°We were in the same guild. I thought she quit¡­ but now I¡¯m not so sure.¡± Mordred started tapping on the table in frustration, ¡°if only that woman didn¡¯t suffer from amnesia, I would¡¯ve gotten a straight answer.¡± He leaned back on his chair exhausted and massaged his eyes. ¡°And speaking of that woman, I did see something interesting.¡±


    ¡°Like what? Her boobs? They were certainly ¡®ample¡¯,¡± Morialia joked but was swiftly ignored.


    ¡°I¡¯m not entirely certain, but I think she used ¡®Assassinate¡¯ in her fight against the Hundred Eyed Devourer. It appeared rather incomplete though, or perhaps I¡¯m mistaking an entirely different skill with a similar function. Maybe I should set her up with another fight¡­¡±


    ¡°If you did that, I think she might die for real this time. How could she fight without her memories?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯d still have her muscle memories. Though, I suppose that isn¡¯t guaranteed either since I used ¡®spare parts¡¯ to fix her. Or maybe it¡¯s smarter to find this ¡®Prince Bradley¡¯ person and ask them directly.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Going by the title, most likely one of the people in charge of this country,¡± but her master ultimately decided against it. ¡°No, moving forward hastily would only get me unnecessarily exposed and put me in a weaker negotiation position. There¡¯s still a lot of time and focusing on the woman would yield greater results in the long term. For now, I¡¯ll have to observe for any changes or recovery of her memory. I also want to see if Graham can learn magic from the game¡­ previous world. If so, then that would answer some questions, and open a whole lot more.¡±


    ¡°I guess this means that means we¡¯ll be staying int this village for a little longer?¡±


    ¡°For the time being.¡±

 Chapter 14//Regaining Memories

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 14//Regaining Memories


    ¡°How are you feeling, Ann?¡± once morning came around, Mordred visited a resting Ann at the clinic.


    ¡°Good morning, doctor,¡± she greeted with a soft smile. From such an innocent appearance it may have been difficult to believe she was a fighter capable of taking down a Hundred Eye Devourer. ¡°I¡¯m feeling much better than yesterday.¡± From her improved complexion it appeared that most of the discomfort she had been feeling was alleviated, and her expression was noticeably brighter. This was a good thing as a healthier mental and physical state would facilitate quicker recovery of her lost memories.


    ¡°That¡¯s wonderful news!¡± he replied in a cheerful tone.


    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s all thanks to you, doctor.¡±


    ¡°Now then, I know you may be hungry since you just woke up, and breakfast is being prepared, but I want you to look at these first,¡± Mordred told her and placed down the items he had been studying late into the night: the twin, monochromatic daggers and the earring-like transceiver. ¡°These were originally your personal effects. I withheld them from you yesterday as I feared they could trigger some unnecessary trauma. However, your condition seems much healthier today. So, take a look and tell me what you remember.¡±


    ¡°All right,¡± she nodded. Perhaps it was due in part to Mordred¡¯s studious gaze and how she didn¡¯t want to let down the expectations of the man who saved her life, but her body tensed up as she hesitantly reached out for the items. ¡°Umm, I¡¯ll take a look at this first,¡± she reached for the transceiver earrings. She studied them in close details for a few minutes but ultimately came up with no new information. ¡°They¡¯re pretty, but I don¡¯t feel anything in particular.¡± Lowering her gaze to her own well-toned and slight muscular body that was mired in numerous scars of battle, she doubtfully added, ¡°somehow they don¡¯t really seem to fit me. Are you sure these were mine?¡±


    While the earrings themselves may have appeared to be mere pretty jewellery, their transceiver function would undoubtedly be useful in battlefield scenarios. It definitely was something that Ann would use in combat. However, Mordred withheld that information for the time being. ¡°Yes, and I think they suit you marvellously. You look beautiful, so don¡¯t sell yourself short.¡±


    ¡°Huh¡­? O- oh kay¡­ Thank you,¡± she replied bashfully. To avoid the situation from becoming any more awkward she quickly turned her attention towards the twin daggers and picked them up. Upon doing so she instantly froze as though there was a glitch in her program, and a pained expression crawled on her face. Then, almost as though the daggers in her hand were disgusting bugs, she hurriedly tossed them aside. ¡°Ow,¡± she clutched her head tightly as signs of a migraine crept on to her face. ¡°What, what was that?¡±


    ¡°Ann, what¡¯s wrong? Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Huh? Y- yes, I¡¯m fine, but¡­ touching those daggers made me¡­ remember something¡­¡±


    ¡°What did you remember?¡± Mordred pushed. If there was any information about Eris, then he needed to know.


    ¡°No, rather than ¡®remember¡¯, it might be better to say I saw ¡®images¡¯ in my head. It¡¯s nothing concrete, but I saw myself talking with someone. A man, with bright golden hair and seemed a little arrogant. He was¡­ smiling at me.¡± She paused to take a deep breath, ¡°and¡­ I think I was on some kind of mission. There were five of us. And¡­¡± suddenly tears rolled down her cheeks. ¡°Something happened¡­ and¡­ and I¡­ we¡­ I have to go back! Doctor, I have to get back to that person and tell him everything!¡± she pleaded ¡°I think it¡¯s that ¡®Prince Bradley¡¯ person you spoke about, I have to get back to him!¡±


    ¡°Right, of course, but you¡¯re in no condition for extended travel,¡± Mordred told her as he attempted to calm her down by rubbing her back. ¡°From what I understand, the capital is about a week away from here by carriage. That is where I¡¯d expect to find a prince after all. I understand it must feel frustrating, but for now please try to focus on recovery. When I¡¯ve determined that you¡¯ve regained enough stamina, I promise I¡¯ll take you to the capital.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ understand, doctor. Thank you for looking out for me,¡± replied Ann with a look of satisfied compromise.


    ¡°Is there anything else? What about these daggers specifically? Do you remember anything about them?¡±


    ¡°Huh? Oh, I think¡­ they may have been given to me by my mother.¡±


    ¡°Your mother?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t be sure if she really was my mother, but that¡¯s the feeling I got. I remember the sight of her glimmering white hair as we were in¡­ a dark place. It may have been a ritual site or the altar of a temple. We were surrounded by a number of people dressed in dark crimson robes as they chanted something, but I couldn¡¯t really hear them. After some kind of ceremony, those daggers were passed down by my mother.¡± There was much doubt on her face, almost as though she herself didn¡¯t really believe it happened, but the existence of these daggers was undeniable. ¡°At least, that¡¯s what I saw. Who knows if any of that happened.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± Mordred nodded curiously. ¡®Dark crimson robes.¡¯ He thought to himself. From his memories of Eris, she certainly did wear that colouration of armour, but not robes- light armour. However, ¡°huh?¡± for a split second he thought he saw a vivid image of her in his mind. It wasn¡¯t the same as seeing her avatar through a computer monitor; it was more like she was there in person. It was the scene of her heartily smiling figure as she draped her arms over his shoulders as though they were the best of friends. That kind of thing only happened in the game, but the clarity of the vision indicated it happened in real life.


    ¡°Doctor? Are you okay?¡± Ann¡¯s words snapped him back from his thoughts.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°Oh, my apologies, I was just thinking about something. In any case, perhaps it''s best for you to hold back on trying to remember and focus on recovery.¡±


    ¡°I think so too, but I also want to go to the capital soon.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll arrange for that to happen as soon as we¡¯re able. Also, hold on to these,¡± Mordred picked up the daggers and returned them.


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    *


    *


    *


    At Mordred¡¯s recommendation, after sharing breakfast Ann took a small walk through the village in order to get some much needed fresh air. Meanwhile, Mordred and Morialia discussed their plans going forward in his room. Of course, due to the ¡®sensitive¡¯ nature of their topics, he had set up measures to prevent eavesdropping.


    ¡°And? What do you plan to do now? Clearly it¡¯ll take time for the girl to regain her memories. You¡¯re not going to tell me you¡¯ll really stay around in this village and wait, are you?¡± asked Morialia with a touch of mischievousness. In the same way Mordred knew exactly what buttons to push to make Morialia act, she too knew her master well enough to push him to action. As a Demon Lord she particularly enjoyed trickery and underhanded tactics, but appreciated the more straightforward approaches too. To such an unlawful being ¡®Mordred¡¯ was irresistible; he was like a brilliant source of light for a moth; she eagerly awaited the next evil plot her master would hatch.


    Mordred closed his eyes and contemplated on her words for a moment. It was true that he liked the passive approach- the entire character of ¡®Mordred¡¯ was centred around him being a ¡®patient schemer¡¯- but he also knew the benefits of being proactive. His previous ploy of destroying a part of the forest to lure in people with potential information was proof of this. ¡°I suppose there is wisdom in acting first. There¡¯s also the matter of if Eris is in this world or not. I¡¯d like to start my search, but lack the crucial human resources to do so.¡±


    Morialia, upon hearing her master¡¯s pitiful predicament, leaned in closely and softly caressed his cheeks, almost as though she were about to kiss him. The smile she made at that moment was truly worthy of the one titled ¡®Demon Lord¡¯, ¡°then,¡± she whispered quietly into his ears, ¡°all you need to do is ¡®take¡¯ those human resources, no?¡±


    ¡°Take them?¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that what you do best? Trickery and manipulation; you are ¡®Mordred¡¯ the ¡®deceiver¡¯, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    It was as Morialia suggested, if he lacked the personnel, then all he needed to do was take over a populace and make them work for him. However, he couldn¡¯t just force them, that wasn¡¯t Mordred¡¯s style. There was a certain ¡®art¡¯ to these things, and if he would do this- to commit to evil- then he needed to do it properly, as Mordred. ¡°Then, perhaps I should start with Xagontetia.¡±


    ¡°Wait, Xagontetia? Wouldn¡¯t taking over that Baliazoural Empire or something be a better choice since it¡¯s bigger?¡±


    ¡°Heh, you just don¡¯t get it; everyone loves the story of an underdog; Xagontetia is perfect. The issue is how I¡¯ll go about taking it over. Coercion through force is too crass. Should I attempt to establish a black market? Take over economically? Maybe exert my influence over the military?¡± he thought about many methods but none of them seemed dramatic enough to be stamped with the seal of approval by Mordred. Then a thought occurred to him, ¡°no wait, perhaps ¡®that¡¯ could work.¡±


    ¡°Did you come up with an interesting idea?¡±


    Mordred let out a sinister smirk, ¡°yeah. There isn¡¯t anything quite as spectacular as the corrosion of reason and logic through the introduction of religion. But I don¡¯t need to construct an entire religion; a central religious figure is enough. Right, I¡¯ll create a ¡®saint¡¯, one that will become this country¡¯s guiding voice and light. And what¡¯s required for the birth of a saint are ¡®miracles¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad you found your motivation.¡±


    ¡°Why are you talking as if you¡¯ll have nothing to do? Morialia, you¡¯re also going to be working hard for our plans,¡± Mordred told her as he gripped her head in a vice-grip to stop her from leaving. A cold shiver ran down her back as she almost regretted trying to motivate her master into action. ¡°But that comes later,¡± he said as he loosened his hold. ¡°While our ¡®saint¡¯ is busy taking over the country, we¡¯ll need to help our poor amnesiac recover her memories, and to do that those daggers will be the key. Clean air and a calming atmosphere may be good for her, but what would really help is if she gets back into her usual routine. Perhaps it¡¯d be better to make her fight actual humans instead of monsters. She seemed like an Assassin, so maybe that¡¯ll jump-start her memories.¡±


    ¡°How are you going to manage that? Are you going to make brigands attack her or something?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not a bad suggestion. However, I¡¯d rather soldiers from the enemy nation. She was skilled enough to take down a Hundred Eyed Devourer, so it¡¯d probably be much more effective to fight someone with a higher skill level than mere brigands.¡±


    ¡°Wow, you¡¯re such a devil.¡±


    ¡°The problem is where we¡¯d ¡®procure¡¯ some cooperative enemy soldiers. Or maybe I could fabricate them...¡±


    *


    *


    *


    ¡°Oh, hello,¡± Ann greeted. Whilst out on her stroll she had coincidentally run into Lieutenant Marianne. ¡°I heard you were also there when you saved me.¡±


    ¡°Hmm?¡± for a moment Marianne gazed back with a confused expression. Then, as though a light bulb had turned on inside her head she asked in astonishment, ¡°wait, could it be that you¡¯re the woman the doctor and I found in the forest?!¡±


    ¡°Y- yes? Is there something wrong?¡±


    ¡°Is something... of course there is! Not to offend, but when you were found, you were barely a pile of meat!¡± Marianne exclaimed as she leaned in closer to study her in closer detail. To her it must¡¯ve appeared as though the dead had come back to life. ¡°Is this real? I¡¯m honestly amazed you¡¯re even awake, much less be walking about; I thought it¡¯d take at least a few months for you to regain your consciousness.¡±


    A cold sweat ran down Ann¡¯s back. ¡°Was... was I really in that bad of a shape?¡±


    ¡°Yes, extremely,¡± Marianne couldn¡¯t help but grimace as she remembered the horrendous state she was found in. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t have been out of place at all if you ended up as a corpse. I think no one other than the doctor could¡¯ve made this miracle happen.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s quite frightening,¡± Ann replied.


    ¡°But, I¡¯m glad you made a full recovery. To tell you the truth, if it wasn¡¯t for the doctor I would¡¯ve just thought you were dead and buried you. Sorry.¡±


    ¡°Oh, there¡¯s no reason for you to apologize.¡±


    ¡°And there was these too,¡± Marianne presented to her a few of the personal effects from the other people that couldn¡¯t be saved. ¡°I wasn¡¯t able to bring anything else because they were damaged beyond repair, but you should take these with you.¡± She handed several more of those ¡®transceiver¡¯ earrings all with a silent crimson glint.


    ¡°What are these?¡± Ann asked, tilting her head slightly to the side. ¡°Earrings? But so many...¡±


    ¡°Huh? They¡¯re the belongings of the people you were with.¡±


    ¡°The people I was with?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, there were five of you, wait, don¡¯t you remember anything?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I seemed to have suffered a case of amnesia. The doctor said I should regain my memories in time, but if it was something that terrible, I¡¯m not sure I really want to remember.¡±


    Marianne nodded, ¡°yeah, I can understand that, but amnesia is terrible. You don¡¯t remember anything? What about your name?¡±


    Ann shook her head. ¡°The doctor gave me the name ¡®Ann¡¯ that I could temporarily use.¡±


    ¡°Ann. That¡¯s a good and simple name.¡± Marianne offered her hand for a shake. ¡°Nice to meet you, I¡¯m Marianne, a lieutenant of the local garrison.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I hope we can get along.¡±

 Chapter 15//Retaliation

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 15//Retaliation


    ¡°This is quite worrisome,¡± spoke the first prince, ¡®Bradley Avon Leonhardt¡¯. It had been almost two weeks since he had sent Petra to the western borders to investigate the strange mana phenomenon, yet she had not returned- not a single message to inform him that her inspection may have required additional time. No, this was too out of character; the most likely scenario was that something had occurred and she could not reach him. ¡°What to do,¡± his hands that were working through various paperwork ceased as he leaned back onto his chair. There were a few things he could do, but sending in more people when even his top agent was compromised may not be the best idea.


    ¡°Is something the matter, your highness?¡± a familiar and rotund man named ¡®Bruont Aidus Shirley¡¯ entered his study carrying more paperwork. It was honestly too much work for a single man, but these needed to be processed in order for the country to stay functional. Picking his pen back up, the first prince resumed his endeavour through the mountain of documents.


    ¡°Lord Bruont,¡± he acknowledged the man¡¯s entrance. ¡°I was simply getting a little worried because my agent had yet to return from the west.¡±


    ¡°Ah yes, that ¡®Petra¡¯ woman you sent to investigate the mana phenomenon?¡± Minister Bruont turned his gaze towards the calendar hanging by a nearby wall. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s been about two weeks since then. Though, if I¡¯m recalling correctly, wasn¡¯t the incident area still far off from the capital? Accounting for travel time, isn¡¯t it a little premature to be getting worried?¡±


    Had it been anyone else it would¡¯ve been a valid argument. ¡°That would normally be the case if her unit rode on normal horse-pulled carriages, however they are a specialized ¡®mobile strike¡¯ (assassination) unit that has learnt to utilize ¡®Gaunt Steeds¡¯.¡± Gaunt Steeds were a special breed of undead horses that had been tamed by many of the races throughout the world. They were slightly larger and beefier than the average horse and often had a dark blue to dark grey colouration about them. However, by far the most recognizable feature of these terrifying horses was their soulless red eyes that glimmered through the darkness. Not only were these Gaunt Steeds much faster than normal horses, they also required no rest on the account of them being undead- if anything the riders were the ones that needed periodic intermission to recoup stamina. They were also said to become intangible to those they have not recognized as worthy riders.


    ¡°Ohh! Gaunt Steeds, my word. I¡¯ve heard only a handful of people in this country could ride them,¡± Minister Bruont added in an almost excited manner. That wasn¡¯t empty praise either as learning to ride one of these ghastly mounts was the equivalent to mastering an entire set of martial arts. In fact, a prerequisite to even attempt to learn to ride these horses was to be a master of at least one martial arts form.


    ¡°On those mounts it would¡¯ve taken her less than forty hours to reach the target destination. So you can imagine my distress when such a competent unit has gone dark under my direct orders. Perhaps this is a much more serious issue than we originally gave credence for,¡± the prince let out a sigh, unsure of how he should now approach this potentially dangerous situation. With the Baliazoural Empire¡¯s army banging at their doors to the east, and now this to the west, he couldn¡¯t but feel sandwiched by these burdens. ¡°I¡¯d rather not have to pull out an entire company off the eastern front lines just to deal with this issue, but there may be no other choice.¡±


    The rounded Minister cleared his throat hesitantly as he spoke, ¡°ahem, it pains me to be the bearer of bad news, your highness, but there is one more problem that demands your attention.¡±


    ¡°Another problem?¡±


    ¡°Yes, several of the War Ministers believed the situation wasn¡¯t dire enough and retired back to their territories. From a certain perspective that may even be a good thing, but the problem is that they¡¯ve also pulled out their reserve soldiers. Those soldiers were scheduled to be sent to the front lines to support the defences, however now there is a gigantic hole in our formation. For now the first princess- your older sister- is doing everything she can to hold position and prevent the enemy soldiers from getting through, but I¡¯m uncertain how much longer she can maintain the status quo.¡±


    Hearing this horrendous turn of events, the first prince¡¯s pen stopped moving for a moment as his fists tightened. ¡°Are those incompetent fools competing against the Empire to see who destroys this country faster?!¡± After a deep breath to calm his nerves, he asked Minister Bruont in an ominously calm and hushed tone. ¡°Lord Bruont, now that it has come to this, I can see no other alternatives; it seems to me that the time has come to flush out the parasites that are bringing the country down.¡±


    Minister Bruont stood still for a few seconds in complete silence as he was trying to interpret what that meant. Cold sweat gathered at the centre of his palms and forehead as his eyes twitched. ¡°You... you can¡¯t mean, but you¡¯re setting a dangerous precedent, your highness!¡±


    The prince swirled his chair behind him and glanced out the window. There were roughly around a million citizens in the capital and a further three or so million spread throughout the country¡¯s territories. The unfortunate fact of the matter was, while those incompetent Ministers of War who had been arbitrarily granted the title of ¡®General¡¯ were leeching off the country, their presence and pedigree was necessary to maintain all of Xagontetia¡¯s dominions. The War Ministers- especially during this war- was a blessed bunch that maintained a sizeable territory each. In fact, they used the conflict against the Empire as a reason to annex the surrounding territories of other dukes and nobles in the name of ¡®national defence¡¯. Out of the previously thirty territories of Xagontetia, there were now only six, and all of them under the control of the Ministry of War.


    Thus it was difficult to forcefully remove them without leading to massive disorganization and decentralization of power. If such a thing happened, then it could lead to the collapse of the entire country. Even through all their greed and corruption, they each had a vested interest in maintaining at least a minimum standard for their responsible lands. This had been why the first prince, against his own sanity, had withheld his intention to remove these parasitic ministers until now; the middle of a war wasn¡¯t a good time to removal all the Chiefs-of-Staff. Much less a power-vacuum, it¡¯d lead to a power-black-hole that couldn¡¯t be closed.


    However, from this recent news, the first prince had finally come to understand that even if he had to risk the stability of his whole country, these leeches needed to be dealt with now. If not, they would drag the entire country down to the ground faster than the Empire¡¯s army would.


    ¡°Lord Bruont,¡± he started. ¡°I look out the window and see citizens who have placed their trust in our government. Yet, far from meeting that trust, the only thing we¡¯ve ever done for them is exploit them to further our own gains. Perhaps... just perhaps, it¡¯s time we started giving back to the citizens? And maybe once we¡¯ve gotten over this long overdue issue, we can focus on more important matters.¡±


    ¡°While I can certainly see your reasoning, the forceful removal of all Chief-of-Staff would lead to major issues. The lack of personnel being one, but more than that, if you do decide to go with this then it¡¯d be an express ticket to hell, your highness.¡±


    ¡°At this point, anyone with half a brain would serve better in those roles. And while I¡¯m not one to promote family out of nepotism, there are some amongst the Royal Family and their retainers that could fulfil the roles the War Ministers have had. As for your second worry... Well, I believe it is the duty of a leader to save their subjects, even at the cost of one¡¯s own soul. Is it not?¡±


    Eventually, Minister Bruont let out a resigned sigh and nodded. He too could not see any other way out. ¡°There are no legal justifications for the... ¡®forceful removal¡¯ of the ministers. Even if you were to succeed in getting rid of those people, you¡¯d be the one who¡¯d have to take the ultimate responsibility, and I should not have to remind you that we are at war. If you were dismissed from your current post because of this, and I mean no offence to his majesty- the king- when I say, this country would be left without its head.¡±


    The first prince slid open his desk¡¯s drawer and took out a certain object. It was a small bronze statue of a Balrog- a bipedal oxen demon with wings- holding a blackened gem with a purple glow. ¡°This is an artefact that has the power to summon high-level monsters. The summoned monsters cannot be controlled and simply go berserk. You should get what I¡¯m trying to say, right?¡±


    Straight out assassination would be too obvious and immediately single out the first prince due to his history of disagreement with the other War Ministers. However, as the power of this mysterious artefact was clearly beyond that of a normal Human¡¯s, using this artefact gives wriggle room to avoid the bulk of the suspicion- at least for long enough to last the war. After that, the first prince was all too happy to take the blame and be disowned or whatever punishment.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Where did you get such a thing?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve had an interest in ancient labyrinths since I was young. This was something I had excavated on one of my expeditions. I never truly intended to use this, but perhaps it would be valuable in this situation.¡±


    ¡°How do you plan on using this?¡±


    ¡°Petra wasn¡¯t my only black operations agent, though she was certainly my best. I could send some of my men to secretly activate this item around their respective homes, then pin their ¡®unfortunate¡¯ deaths on a monster raid.¡±


    ¡°However, wouldn¡¯t the monsters¡¯ continued rampage affect the surrounding towns and harm innocent civilians?¡±


    ¡°Luckily, the duration of the summoning lasts only about an hour. That said, there may still be a few unavoidable and... ¡®acceptable¡¯ casualties.¡±


    ¡°Surely someone would find it strange if multiple ministers die in the same way?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps they might, but who¡¯s going to do anything about it? I can hardly imagine any of those incompetent fools had anyone who remotely cared enough about them to try anything like avenge their deaths. And, if on the off-chance that someone really started asking questions we can simply pin the blame on the Empire. We are at war after all; I don¡¯t see why they wouldn¡¯t target the enemy¡¯s generals. Besides, the point isn¡¯t to completely avert the blame, we just need to stall suspicion until the war is over. After that, I¡¯ll take full responsibility.¡±


    ¡°Your highness, I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯ll change your mind?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve given them all the chances in the world, yet they refuse to see reality. I¡¯m forced into a corner with this hand.¡±


    ¡°Very well. Then, I¡¯ve officially heard nothing about this conversation and therefore cannot warn my colleagues about any imminent dangers. How unfortunate.¡±


    ¡°Much appreciated, Lord Bruont,¡± replied the first prince with a serene smile as if all his problems had just disappeared from the face of the earth. ¡°Now then, how goes our negotiation attempts with Drakenholdt and Ygdra¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve sent them a formal request for an alliance, along with a progress report on the situation, but I highly doubt they¡¯d respond unless someone with real status- much like yourself- goes to them in person. However, having you vacate your post for too long would lead to dire consequences. It is quite the dilemma.¡±


    ¡°I figured as much,¡± sighed the prince. ¡°How I would kill to have just one more competent personnel. Don¡¯t you agree, Lord Bruont?¡±


    ¡°Indeed, your highness. If I may, I would also rather it be a beautiful woman while we¡¯re talking about far off fantasies.¡±


    ¡°Hahaha! Yes, that would be delightful.¡±


    *


    *


    *


    Across the northern borders of Xagontetia laid the ancient nation of Dragons: ¡®Drakenholdt¡¯. Its aged ruler, ¡®Aurendra Sinclair¡¯, now teetering on two-hundred-years of age, lead a miniscule country with a measly population of about one-hundred-thousand. Yet, each citizen was an army on their own and possessed the power to move mountains; what they lacked in quantity, they made up for in quality.


    From the peak of the highest mountain of Drakenholdt, overlooking the dominion of the Gold Dragons, the Dragon King sat upon his decorated stone throne. He had a bored look to his wrinkled face as he stroked his long white bears. ¡°I¡¯d really like some good wine right about now,¡± he muttered to himself and yawned. Surprisingly, the life of a Dragon King was rather uneventful. Of course, what insane fool would even dare to challenge the might of the land of dragons lest they desired to be instantly cremated? There was no need to worry about wars- unless it was with other dragon nations- and food wasn¡¯t all that much of a problem either. If it came down to it, all dragons could subsist on pure mana in the air for a time being, though that was only a temporary arrangement- ¡®temporary¡¯ being a few years.


    The mighty Dragon King slumped over in his throne and scratched his leg with his foot in an unbecoming manner. Then suddenly, the loud and ferocious voice of his beloved daughter rang through the hallways of the great throne room. ¡°Father!¡± she yelled with an almost infuriated tone.


    ¡°Oh! Irina, my daughter,¡± he happily greeted. At this point he would be happy to hear any news if it would alleviate his unending boredom. ¡°What brings you to visit your father?¡±


    ¡°Father, we have received a request from the Humans,¡± she rushed and bowed before his throne. By appearances alone she looked to be around her mid-twenties by Human standards. Her pony-tailed fiery crimson hair glimmered almost as though it were fire itself. She must¡¯ve come straight from her training as she had still adorned her rugged and dark leather armour. They were of a basic design and offered not much damage resistance- made mostly for training. Her golden eyes glimmered angrily as she presented to her father the letter she had received from the Humans of Xagontetia.


    ¡°What do they want?¡± he asked.


    ¡°They¡¯re requesting assistance to fight alongside them in their petty wars. They treat us as if we are their lapdogs to be unleashed upon their enemies!¡± she ground her teeth just thinking about how those ¡®pathetic¡¯ Humans were getting carried away. ¡°Not only do they not have the courtesy to come in person, they threaten us in the letter suggesting that our mighty nation would fall to this ¡®Baliazoural Empire¡¯. Father! We should teach the Humans a lesson and lay waste to their capital!¡±


    ¡®Irina Sinclair¡¯ was the extreme kind. Ever since young she had always believed in the dominance of the Dragons over all the other races. There was certainly justification for it as they were the apex race, but Aurendra knew that there were much stronger beings. He had learnt long ago- the hard way- about being humble. About a hundred-and-fifty years ago, when he was still young, he had met a certain God that taught him that the Dragons weren¡¯t necessarily the strongest in the world. That God did not move even an inch as he beat down Aurendra senseless through superior techniques. It was that day when the Dragon King learnt of humility.


    However, his daughter- ¡®Irina Sinclair¡¯- was different. She was still young being only forty-years-old and knew little of the world outside of Drakenholdt. He had attempted to impart the lesson he learnt all those years ago onto her, but with only words and no real example she could not fathom the lessons. She must¡¯ve understood that there could be stronger beings than the Dragons, but as long as she never saw them with her own eyes, she would never truly believe they exist.


    ¡°Irina, there¡¯s no need to be so violent. Let the Humans do whatever they want. Or do you really want to drag the name of the Dragons down to their level?¡±


    ¡°N- no, that¡¯s not what I meant, father. Forgive me,¡± to her there was nothing more insulting than being compared to the lesser races. ¡°However, the Humans still need to be dealt with.¡±


    ¡°If the Humans wish to attack our nations, then we shall act. Otherwise, I see no point in embroiling ourselves with their problems,¡± was what he had to say as the Dragon King. However, truth be told, there was a small part of him that wanted to get involved if just to rid his long life of boredom. ¡°Anyway, you need not concern yourself over them.¡±


    ¡°Yes father,¡± she nodded, though there might have been a sense of dissatisfaction within her.


    ¡°In any case, what happened to that subordinate of yours? That lone red dragon we granted refuge to. Is he still out and about?¡±


    ¡°About that, I have been unable to find him for the past month now. That boy always disliked the cluttered society we Gold Dragons have involved ourselves with, or so he says. ¡®Prefer the open skies¡¯ that was the last thing he told me before disappearing. That said, I believe he should be back soon.¡±


    ¡°Is that right? Then let us hope he returns soon with good wine.¡±


    *


    *


    *


    South-west of Xagontetia, there was a nation of Elves known as ¡®Ygdra¡¯. Since ancient times they had been a rather isolationist bunch. Almost four-hundred-years had passed since a being other than an Elf stepped foot into their territory. Yet, an envoy from the Human nation of Xagontetia had arrived at their front gates.


    The Elven nation was unlike the Human¡¯s, in that they existed only as a single entity; a single large city housing a population of about two million. How they were able to squeeze such a large population into a small corner of the continent was due of their technological capabilities. They were more advanced than most of the other races. Instead of brick houses, their dark, metallic structures entwined with trees and vegetation stretched towards the skies. Small gaps in the canopy allowed sunlight to leak through, creating a tranquil and quiet visage. The ¡®Emerald City¡¯ was another name for it. At the centre of the city existed the ¡®World Tree¡¯. Even from the outside, despite there being a large black wall in front of him, the Xagontetian envoy could see the top of the tree poking out and reaching far into the clouds.


    Thus, the gates of their city were a tall, obsidian-coloured metallic wall that stretched on for several hundred metres into the sky. The lone envoy stood before it vast majesty as he held tightly onto the royal orders given to him by the first prince. Sweat rapidly dripped past his face as he prepared himself to meet the Elven representatives.


    A small hole opened on the wall to let out a few Elves. Their complexion was pale and dark rings sagged under their eyes. Rather than typical elves they were somewhere in between a normal Elf and a Dark Elf. They lived in shaded cities, but not quite lacking in light. They practiced archery and magic from time to time, but alchemy and science was much more of value here. These Elves were known to be studious, trying day and night to perfect their technology and alchemy.


    The leader of the Elven representative was a tall, lanky man with dishevelled hair. His ears were long, as one would expect from an Elf, but he betrayed the entire image of nature-dwelling spirits that they were widely known as. His attire was anything but natural- a white and almost sterile lab coat.


    ¡°What are you here for, Human?¡± asked the Elven representative. His voice was haggard and unfriendly. He looked and sounded sleep-deprived, almost drifting into a slumber between each word. His eyes, struggling to stay away, almost glared at the envoy in an intimidating manner.


    ¡°I hail from the capital of Xagontetia. By order of the first prince, we formally request an alliance with Ygdra,¡± the envoy announced. However, he was given only a harsh look as if he was nothing more than an annoying bug.


    ¡°We refuse. Leave.¡± The Elves weren¡¯t known to be a hospitable race, but this was bordering on rudeness. He was an envoy of another country, yet he instead of being lead inside, they were discussing important diplomatic matters at their front door.


    ¡°You don¡¯t understand; the Baliazoural Empire plans to invade this half of the continent. If our country falls, then Ygdra may be next! It is in both our country¡¯s best interests to be allied!¡± the envoy tried to portray the urgency and necessity of this alliance, yet his pleas fell on deaf ears.


    ¡°If that Empire or whatever wants to invade us, they may try. They will be decimated at our gates. Now, if there is nothing else, leave.¡±


    There was no more discussion. The Elves retreated behind their vast walls and the envoy sent back.

 Chapter 16//Working Hard

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 16//Working Hard


    Even after several consecutive weeks of experimenting on his abilities, there was still so much left undiscovered. That said, if ever there was one class Mordred had felt reservations about using, it would most definitely have been the ¡®Bard¡¯. Singing and playing musical instruments amid a serious battle wasn¡¯t exactly an efficient way to fight. Indeed, one was more prone to getting strange looks of pity from their opponents the moment they tried. Or conversely, the opponent could fly into a rage as they might perceive this kind of thing as an insult- which may be useful in its own right. In any case, the point was that it wasn¡¯t a good thing that Mordred had an entire set of skills that he wasn¡¯t likely to use, though the remaining nine classes were still very powerful.


    However, ¡°I¡¯ve been experimenting,¡± Mordred spoke to a Morialia who had been lying around stuffing her face full of cookies on one of the clinic¡¯s beds.


    ¡°Mmmphhh?¡± she asked while crumbs fell from her mouth, disregarding the strange look of pity she was getting from him.


    ¡°About how to use my Bard class, or rather, how to more effectively employ it. As it turns out, one doesn¡¯t necessarily need to sing or use an instrument; as long as the intentions and magical enchantments are carried through sound waves, it will still activate the effects of the skill. For example, I can use it while I¡¯m talking like this, but in a direct confrontation scenario even that may be cumbersome. Instead, what I can do is this,¡± Mordred clicked his fingers as a powerful percussive echo rushed through the air. Even the nonchalant Morialia seemed to have felt that one as she stopped eating and perked up her ears. ¡°That. Just that is enough to activate the effects of my Bard skill. However, doing it that way reduces the effect potency and duration. Since Bard skills are mostly channelled abilities, and the longer you channel the longer and more powerful the effect are, the most I can affect someone with just a single click is about two minutes.¡±


    ¡°Mmmmhhh, sst¡¯ so?¡± Morialia shrugged and continued with her endeavour of defeating her box of cookies. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t have a Bard class so none of that is relevant to me.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be too sure about that.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°It means that one of either two things can happen depending on the result of Graham¡¯s training. First, on the occasion he can learn magic from our previous world, and then if Eris truly was in this world, then there is a chance that someone else might¡¯ve learnt Bard or any other skills from her. In that case, it¡¯d be good for you to know of the limitations and countermeasures for Bard skills. If conversely he cannot learn our skills, then there shouldn¡¯t be too many problems. That said, perhaps you may still be able to learn it since technically you are from our previous world even if you were ¡®summoned¡¯ in this world.¡±


    However, Morialia was quick to deny that. ¡°No, I can¡¯t learn any new skills.¡±


    ¡°How can you know that?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know; it¡¯s just a feeling I have. I mean, I can try if you wanted me to, but I honestly believe it will end up being futile effort.¡± Though not backed up by logic or evidence, it appeared that she truly believed this. It was true that back in the game summon familiars could not level up or learn any new skills. He had thought maybe that system limitation would¡¯ve been alleviated, but perhaps if she had that much mental resistance against learning, then it might really not be possible. Regardless, for now it was better to take her word for it and leave it be to focus on other things. She was absurdly strong enough already. While time wasn¡¯t critical, there were still a lot of things he wanted to do and wasting time wasn¡¯t one. Perhaps when he had time later he would try.


    ¡°We¡¯ll leave it for now then,¡± he agreed.


    ¡°So? How is that boy doing? Did you say his name was Graham or something? What are you even trying to teach him, anyway?¡± she shifted the conversation.


    ¡°I¡¯m trying to teach him ¡®Flare Acid¡¯,¡± replied Mordred. ¡®Flare Acid¡¯ was an elementary tier magic spell that dealt relatively minor damage but left the target with two status afflictions: ¡®Burn¡¯ and ¡®Poison¡¯, which periodically chunked their health down. It was a useful skill as later in the Magician class¡¯s skill tree there were spells that would have their damage amplified depending on what sort of status ailments the target was inflicted with. However, that wasn¡¯t the only reason he had taught that spell instead of something more normal like ¡®Fire Bullet¡¯. ¡°From all the elementary tier magic spells, that one alone is fairly unique and has the highest chance of being new to this world. Something like ¡®Fire Bullet¡¯ or anything else generic likely already exists in this world so it wouldn¡¯t be useful to the purpose of my experiment.¡±


    In the game, every skill of every class had been divided into ¡®skill tiers¡¯, which acted as a sort of progression metre. As a player advanced through one class- around every 40 levels- they would unlock more and more powerful skills. There were five tiers, from lowest to highest they were: ¡®Elementary¡¯, ¡®Intermediate¡¯, ¡®Advanced¡¯, ¡®Master¡¯ and ¡®Grandmaster¡¯. The Grandmaster tier skills were usually unlocked only once the player had reached level 200 of that class.


    ¡°Why are you teaching him boring stuff? Don¡¯t boys like skills with more pizzazz? Like Inferno Hurricane!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to pretend you didn¡¯t just ask that.¡±Stolen novel; please report.


    *


    *


    *


    ¡°Hmm... This is quite the problem,¡± Mordred one day commented out aloud in his clinic. Of course, he said this deliberately hoping Ann would be within earshot.


    ¡°Is something that matter, doctor?¡± Ann innocently inquired as she came back from her morning jog. Her condition had been steadily improving, and she had now started regularly exercising when she wasn¡¯t helping Mordred around in the clinic. At first it had merely been due to Mordred¡¯s recommendation, but lately she commented that it was likely ¡®something she did previously¡¯, meaning before her memory loss. Speaking of which, there were no signs of her amnesia being cured anytime soon. However, that her body was subconsciously telling her to exercise might¡¯ve been a good thing as it meant that some of her muscle memory had been retained despite the ¡®spare parts¡¯.


    ¡°Welcome back, Ann,¡± he greeted with the same soft, false smile. ¡°It¡¯s just that I¡¯m missing a few ingredients for the potion I¡¯m trying to make. The village¡¯s spare stock is starting to run a bit low, though it¡¯s not exactly a critical issue. I¡¯d go retrieve it myself but one of the villagers made an appointment with me this morning so I¡¯m kind of stuck,¡± he shrugged.


    ¡°If that¡¯s the case, I¡¯d be more than happy to go in your place to get it. If you can just describe what sort of ingredients you¡¯re looking for, I can even go right now,¡± Ann happily offered.


    ¡°That¡¯d be helpful, but are you sure?¡±


    ¡°Of course! You¡¯re letting me freeload here; it¡¯s the least I could do.¡±


    Mordred pretended to think for a moment and eventually conceded, ¡°very well. Give me a second,¡± he quickly vacated his spot and soon returned with a small sketchbook he had made of the various herbs and plants that grew in this area. Since there was nothing like ¡®status menus¡¯ there was no real way to keep track of all the resources that were available- thus this sketchbook. His artistic skills were non-existent in his previous world, but perhaps due to the increase in his dexterity, but he had become quite talented at sketch art. ¡°Take this,¡± he passed it over to her. ¡°On the third and forth pages are the ingredients I need right now. They grow rather frequently and in large numbers just slightly north of the village, so there shouldn¡¯t be too many problems.¡±


    ¡°Understood, doctor,¡± Ann nodded as she swiftly left for her first official quest.


    After confirming she had left, Mordred stood up and got ready himself. ¡°We¡¯re leaving, Morialia.¡±


    ¡°Mmmphh?¡± Morialia perked up, swallowing the piece of roast potato down her throat.


    ¡°To help out a poor lady suffering from amnesia. We¡¯re going to attempt to jumpstart her memories.¡±


    *


    *


    *


    Morning practice for the garrison soldiers started early and most diligent out of them all was First Lieutenant Marianne. She had gotten up at Five-in-the-morning and prepared herself for the day. After running light laps around the garrison base, she practiced her form with the sword until everyone else was up and ready to practice.


    Recently, Graham had also gotten the idea of waking up early to studiously practice the magic that the doctor was trying to teach him; what had once been an unenthusiastic soldier was now laboriously working. It was a rather refreshing sight.


    ¡°How¡¯s your magic coming along?¡± she asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s coming along... great?!¡± suddenly his voice spiked up as his face turned beet red. At first she was confused why he was acting so bashfully, but when she stared down, she noticed her white shirt had been soaked with her sweat and was revealing the contents underneath. ¡°I... I didn¡¯t see anything,¡± he awkwardly tried to laugh it off.


    ¡°As much as I would like to blame you, I am also at fault for not paying attention to my appearance,¡± for the time being she covered herself with her towel. Since until recently she had been the only one up at this hour she had neglected to think about her appearances. ¡°Excuse me for a moment,¡± she temporarily left and returned with a fresh shirt. ¡°Sorry about that.¡±


    ¡°Ah, no, it was honestly a treat, I mean, I saw nothing!¡±


    Letting out a sigh she lightly hit him over the head to cover her embarrassment. ¡°Anyway, how are you doing with your magic?¡± she wanted to reset the mood and thus returned to the original topic.


    ¡°Honestly, it¡¯s not going as well as I hoped it would, but If I were to show you my progress, you would probably tell me I¡¯m doing great. I suppose if there¡¯s any problem, it would be that I¡¯m rather impatient.¡±


    ¡°Nothing in life works that quickly. It¡¯s the same with learning how to handle a sword; it takes time to get used to it. Magic is even more complex so there¡¯s nothing you need to feel worried about. What kind of magic is it, anyway? All I know is that it¡¯s some kind of fire magic.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s amazing!¡± his voice brightened as he explained. ¡°The doctor¡¯s teaching me magic that I never even heard of. Granted, I knew little about magic before, but I honestly don¡¯t think those arcane scholars in the capital even know about this kind of magic. It¡¯s a spell called ¡®Flare Acid¡¯ and mixes the properties of fire and poison. It¡¯s not exactly a flashy technique, but it¡¯s very effective at what it can do.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing it burns and poisons people?¡±


    ¡°Correct. Well, I guess if you think about it like that it¡¯s a bit cruel of a technique, but in a fight it would undoubtedly give you an edge, especially over other magicians. The burning and poison would no doubt distract someone from properly channelling their spell, so it also has interruption properties. Even if you weren¡¯t fighting another magician, try fighting with two excruciating ailments on you.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that sounds very powerful. Are you sure you can learn something that amazing? I mean, shouldn¡¯t you be starting off learning simple magic, like ¡®Fire Bullet¡¯?¡±


    ¡°According to the doctor, this is just elementary tier magic, which is on the same level as Fire Bullet, so there shouldn¡¯t be a problem.¡±


    ¡°I see. Hmm?¡± as they were discussing, in the distance they spotted Ann¡¯s figure and called out to her.


    ¡°Good morning, Marianne, Graham,¡± Ann greeted.


    ¡°Morning,¡± they returned.


    ¡°What are you doing so early in the morning?¡± Marianne asked. Ever since finding out that Ann had been staying with the doctor under one roof, she had felt a little threatened. While she didn¡¯t believe the doctor was the kind of person that would lay his hands on a poor girl going through amnesia, who knows what kind of scandalous things could happen when people live together?


    ¡°The doctor ran out of ingredients so I¡¯m running a quick errand,¡± she replied innocently. It honestly seemed like Ann wasn¡¯t particularly interested in the doctor in the romantic sense, so there was relief there, but then again... ¡®co-habitation¡¯...


    ¡°If that¡¯s the case, why don¡¯t we go with you?¡± Marianne volunteered both her and Graham.


    ¡°Huh?¡± Graham gave of an expression as if to suggest he didn¡¯t want to bother with something that tedious. ¡°Is, is this a direct order from a superior?¡±


    ¡°It is.¡±


    Ann chuckled at their banter and commented, ¡°you two seem to get along very well.¡±


    ¡°Well, we¡¯re part of the same company, so we kind of have to.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I can sort of understand. Anyway, if you¡¯re willing to help, I¡¯ll gladly accept.¡±

 Chapter 17//Forced Hand

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 17//Forced Hand


    ¡°It should be over in this direction,¡± said Ann. She guided Marianne and Graham to the spot indicated by the local map drawn by the illustrious ¡®doctor¡¯. It had taken around forty minutes to reach by foot, however as was previously explained to her, the ingredients did indeed grow in abundance. Though they were in a mildly thick forest, half of their surroundings had been covered by the purplish-pink flower and the other half by yellow flowers. ¡°I believe these are it; the ¡®Solea Flower¡¯ and the ¡®Pomgrain Flower¡¯,¡± she explained as she confirmed with the sketchbook.


    ¡°Well, at least it wasn¡¯t difficult to find,¡± Graham sighed as his face indicated that he just knew his role as the only man here would be to carry stuff. ¡°Still, cartography and sketching; is this doctor even Human?¡± he asked as he flipped through the sketchbook and saw very detailed drawings of the local plants and other items of interest. He understood that many doctors knew how to sketch as they often did their own fieldwork to retrieve medical ingredients, but knowing cartography was going beyond- not to mention mastery over Healing and Elemental Magic. ¡°His specs are so ridiculously high I¡¯d be more inclined to believe he was some eternally young God.¡±


    ¡°Stop being rude to the doctor,¡± Marianne was quick to defend. ¡°Of course he¡¯s Human.¡±


    ¡°You can say that, but I mean, how long would it take to even master one of his many talents? Years? Decades? Yet, he has so many.¡±


    Despite the amnesia, Ann was also grasping at how amazing the doctor really was. It was normally said the study of Magic was a lifelong endeavour, but for someone so young to have such adept mastery over it like the doctor may be a talent that showed perhaps once every two-hundred-years... or something like that. ¡°To be honest, I also find it mysterious how the doctor has cultivated all his skills in such a short span of time. He looks even younger than I am.¡±


    ¡°I think he said he was twenty-four, which is a year older than me,¡± Graham answered as he continued to pick flowers. ¡°Ouch!¡± he quickly retracted his hand when he felt a small sting at the edge of his fingers from the thorns. ¡°Careful, these flowers bite,¡± he warned.


    ¡°Truthfully, there isn¡¯t anyone nearly as talented as the doctor even in the capital, well, aside from maybe Prince Bradley,¡± Marianne nodded.


    At her mention of that name, Ann froze for a moment. ¡°Prince... Bradley? Do you know of him?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Huh? Oh, I don¡¯t think there is anyone in this country that doesn¡¯t know of him,¡± Marianne replied. ¡°He single-handily pulled the country back from certain doom through his leadership. See, last year the war with the Empire was getting especially fatal, but at the last minute, Prince Bradley took command and fortified our defences and halted the enemy¡¯s progress. It¡¯s not only that, but several economic changes were introduced that both lightened the burden on the citizens but also increase overall productivity. Among some other stuff; basically he¡¯s like some kind of saviour to most people. Though, I suppose even people like him have their limits, as things are now starting to looking grim again.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s the Empire; they¡¯re trying to redouble their efforts in conquering Xagontetia. I¡¯ve been hearing a lot of rumours from my contacts in the capital about a potential invasion from them soon. Then there¡¯s also the problem with the ruling cabinet. King Aldern merged the powers of the Royal Family and the Ministry of War believing this would alleviate the situation by allowing them to act directly without approval every time. In theory it¡¯s not too bad of an idea as it does make the progress of directing war more efficient; however, in reality it isn¡¯t so great.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s so bad about it?¡± asked a curious and slightly worried Ann.


    ¡°The usual: corruption and incompetence mixed with a little bit of bad luck. That said, unless you¡¯re on a first-name basis with the higher ups in the military, most ordinary people like you and I can¡¯t really know the full extent of the situation. Most of the citizens¡¯ worries are being kept at bay because they have trust in the First Prince, but I wonder how long that¡¯d last,¡± Marianne trailed off with a depressed tone and sighed. ¡°Huh? Are you all right?¡± she asked noticing Ann had stopped moving with a pale complexion upon her face.


    ¡°Ah, oh... sorry, it¡¯s nothing,¡± she awkwardly laughed off as she resumed her quest of picking flowers for the doctor. Even she didn¡¯t fully understand it herself, but there was a painful void in her chest as she heard the depressing situation the First Prince was facing. ¡®It feels like... I shouldn¡¯t be here doing this...¡¯ she thought to herself, but without her memories she was lost on what else she could be doing. Desperation without an outlet; it was frustration.


    ¡°Oh! Um, how¡¯s the doctor recently?¡± trying to rid the awkward tension in the air Marianne suddenly shifted topics.


    ¡°Eh?¡±


    ¡°You know, because I¡¯m always at the garrison I don¡¯t get to see him that often. So I was curious,¡± she explained.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you mean to say you were worried because some mysterious beauty is now living under the same roof as him?¡± Graham taunted in a whisper, to which divine punishment was doled out in the form of a swift elbow to his sides.


    ¡°Sh- shut up, you fool!¡± she shouted with her face red either from anger or embarrassment- perhaps both.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure what he was like before I showed up, but he¡¯s very kind and treats his patients well. Nothing really seems out of place, though if I had to say something negative about him, or rather his lifestyle, it¡¯s that he works a bit too hard. Every day he sleeps later than me and yet somehow wakes up earlier. It almost seems like he doesn¡¯t sleep at all,¡± explained Ann.


    ¡°That does sound like the doctor,¡± Graham wryly applauded his laborious lifestyle.


    ¡°Eh? Is that so?¡± somehow this news surprised Marianne. ¡°The last time I saw him he looked perfectly fine. I mean, if he¡¯s really living the kind of lifestyle you¡¯re describing, shouldn¡¯t he look constantly exhausted?¡± when she put it like that, that was quite the mystery. Far from looking like a withered husk, the doctor¡¯s complexion seemed healthier than even the village girls who took great care in their appearance. ¡°Wait, don¡¯t tell me he¡¯s taking some sort of drugs to keep up that appearance?!¡±Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Come on, we¡¯re talking about ¡®the¡¯ doctor here,¡± said Graham. ¡°The guy would probably saw his own arm off if it meant he could stop a child from crying. No way he¡¯d do something that vain.¡±


    ¡°I guess you¡¯re right.¡±


    ¡°There was one other thing,¡± Ann spoke up. ¡°I think the doctor was involved with some kind of group or party.¡±


    ¡°You mean like an adventurer party?¡±


    ¡°Possibly...¡±


    *


    *


    *


    - A few days ago -


    ¡°Did you two have another fight?¡±


    Standing before Mordred with pouty faces was a young girl and boy; two children who could be considered the leaders of the other children around the village. ¡®Lily¡¯, the young girl had bright, shoulder-length amber hair and freckles. She was a little tanned around her arms and legs owing to her outgoing and playful nature. Despite being the youngest, or perhaps because of it, the other children often gave in to her and listened to her demands. That said, while she could be quite bossy, she never did anything malicious and was cordial with the others. All except for one: ¡®William¡¯, a young boy with a perpetually dishevelled dark blonde hair and a frown upon his face. It was clear he disliked the fact Lily was the de facto leader of the children¡¯s group and often fought for the position, though nothing physical.


    ¡°We didn¡¯t fight! Lily was just being bossy as always!¡± William denied but had a distressed and guilt-ridden expression on his face. The answer to why was clear as on Lily¡¯s leg was a small, bloody scratch from having fallen down. It was easy to imagine how this came to be; most likely he had accidentally pushed her.


    Lily, with teary eyes tried to hold in her pain and emotions. She covered her face with both her hands while wiping away the rogue tears and escaping sniffles. ¡°I... I¡¯m not bossy! William is just an idiot!¡±


    ¡°What did you say?!¡±


    ¡°Now, now,¡± Mordred tried to mediate between the two. He gently patted both their heads and offered a warm smile. ¡°Let¡¯s all take a deep breath and think about this calmly, okay?¡± by now Mordred¡¯s position in the village allowed him to garner the respect of the children, thus they had listened to him. ¡°William, no one will be angry, so tell me. Did you push Lily?¡±


    ¡°... Yes,¡± he admitted.


    ¡°Did you apologize?¡±


    ¡°... No.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t believe you should?¡±


    ¡°...¡± yet he only kept his silence.


    ¡°I know the two of you have had problems in the past, and I¡¯m not going to try telling you that you should always get along or that you shouldn¡¯t fight. Because the truth is that even those kinds of things can become a happy memory when you¡¯ve become adults. Five years, ten years... who knows, but once you¡¯ve grown up and decide to go your own paths, there¡¯s no guarantee that the two of you will always be next to each other,¡± Mordred told them almost as though he was reminiscing about his own past. ¡°There will be hard times and good times, but when it becomes especially difficult, the fond memories you make with your friends now can help give you the strength to continue forward. You¡¯ll think, ¡®even though we fought, we were still good friends¡¯. So, treasure these moments to your hearts¡¯ content. Play together, fight together, and eventually forgive each other.¡±


    The two children glanced towards each other and then turned back to Mordred.


    ¡°Are... are you like that too, doctor?¡± Lily asked through her tears.


    Hearing this, Mordred let out a soft chuckle as he thought back to the times he spent along with his guild mates. After his parents had passed away, those moments of doing nothing and just hanging out or battling against other players and guilds, those were the most fun he had. Even now his memories flicker back to them almost as though they had happened in person. With a somewhat melancholic smile he replied to the young girl¡¯s question in honesty and not as ¡®Mordred¡¯, ¡°Yes. A long time ago I had friends just like you and William are to each other. We would play together, but also get into fights with one another. We never really agreed a lot of the time, but we always forgave each other with a smile and greeted the next fight with the same smile. Even now those memories help me get through. It¡¯s because I had friends like that I am what I am today, and that I have the strength to continue on. So, cherish your friendship.¡±


    Heeding his advice, the two children nodded with a smile.


    ¡°Okay,¡± they both agreed.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± William truly apologized from his heart.


    ¡°Me too, I¡¯m sorry,¡± Lily too offered an apology and smiled.


    ¡°That¡¯s good,¡± Mordred praised both of them and once more patted their heads. ¡°Now, let me take a look at that scratch,¡± he placed his hand over the young girl¡¯s injury and with a brilliant and soft flash of white light her wound had disappeared as though they were never there. ¡°It doesn¡¯t hurt anymore, right?¡± he asked.


    Lily shook her head. ¡°No, thank you,¡± she replied. Her face was still a little red from crying.


    After making up, the two children left the clinic with a brighter expression. In their place, the village¡¯s elder came in and applauded Mordred¡¯s speech about growing up. ¡°That was a wonderful speech, doctor,¡± he clapped. ¡°Play, fight and forgive each other, was it? Those are definitely words of wisdom I couldn¡¯t have said better myself. It makes me want to entrust you with the position of the village¡¯s next chief. How about it, doctor?¡±


    With a wry laughter, Mordred replied, ¡°I¡¯m grateful for the offer, but there are things that I need to do. I apologize.¡±


    *


    *


    *


    ¡°And something like that happened,¡± Ann finished explaining.


    ¡°Heeh, the doctor really is one-of-a-kind. What do you think, Lieutenant?¡± When the question was passed onto her, she had been frozen solid. ¡°Huh? Is something the matter?¡±


    ¡°N- nothing, nothing¡¯s wrong!¡±


    ¡°But your face is red!¡±


    ¡°N- No, it isn¡¯t! Stop looking this way!¡±


    ¡°Aha, I get it. That story about the doctor really affirmed your love for him, didn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°I said shut up! You idiot! Don¡¯t go saying strange things!¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no need to be embarrassed,¡± Graham continued to taunt. ¡°Heck, if I were a woman even I¡¯d be going for him. But are you going to be all right? There are a lot of women in the village who are eyeing him, you know?¡±


    ¡°Argh, can¡¯t you keep your mouth shut for...!¡± before she could finish that sentence they heard a strange rustling come from the bushes. At that moment, a clear ¡®clicking¡¯ sound echoed through the forest. It was as though a switch had been flicked deep in their minds. An ominous sensation crawled up their spines as the rustling in the bushes became louder. ¡°Who¡¯s there?!¡± Marianne shouted as she drew her sword.


    ¡°Why did you even bring that when we were only going to pick some flowers?¡± Graham asked.


    ¡°A soldier¡¯s job is to be prepared at all times. I¡¯m more worried you didn¡¯t bring one.¡±


    As they continued to banter, several well-armed and heavily armoured knights bearing the symbol of the Baliazoural Empire emerged from the thicket.


    ¡°What the...?! Knights from the Empire?!¡± Graham shouted in surprise. ¡°What are they doing all the way out here?!¡±


    ¡°Graham, you take Ann and get out of here first!¡± Marianne instructed as she poised her sword towards the opposing knights that seemed to keep coming out from the bushes. There were easily a dozen.


    ¡°There¡¯s no way I¡¯m going to let you take them all on alone!¡± Graham protested.


    ¡°You idiot, then who¡¯ll protect Ann? Just take her and call for back up!¡±


    Graham¡¯s face soured as he was faced with a horrible dilemma. It was obvious that she didn¡¯t really want him to call for backup but instead to get the garrison ready to defend the village. There was no way she could take them all on by herself, but he was also a soldier and knew his duties. ¡°I¡¯ll get the captain, so just hold on, Lieutenant!¡± He took Ann¡¯s hand and tried to leave, however his path was impeded by the appearance of another dozen knights from the opposite direction. ¡°What the hell?! Is this an entire platoon?!¡±


    ¡°Kill them all,¡± the most decorated knight ordered as he pointed his sword at the three.

 Chapter 18//Ego Weapon Awakening

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 18//Ego Weapon Awakening


    Heart-rate rising, blood pumping clarity and a cold shiver down the spine. There wasn¡¯t any time to think about what to do; as dictated by her training, Marianne swiftly thrust her sword upwards to knock away her opponent¡¯s weapon. They were hard and heavy- like hitting against a wall- but using the weight of her swing she propelled her body forward and kicked back the knight who had been caught off guard. A soldier who relied solely on their sword was foolish. They had drilled this into her since day one of her training.


    Another knight came rushing forward as one was thrown back. As his blade came down, she had swiftly evaded with her rather slender frame and made her counterattack. With one hand firmly around the handle of the sword and the other directly on the blade- carefully enough so she didn¡¯t cut herself- she drove the tip of the blade straight into the gaps between the knight¡¯s helmet to stab him directly in the face. ¡°Ugh...!¡± the knight squealed as he fell over. Was he dead? There was no time to check, and she had to move onto the next target.


    In the first place, swords were a horrendous choice to fight against heavily armoured knights. ¡®Enhance Strength¡¯; applying the strengthening augmentation spell around her arms she jumped in front of another knight and smashed his helmet with her sword as if it were a percussive instrument. The knight staggered back as he felt the loud noise banging in his ears. Taking this opportunity she quickly applied another augmentation spell on herself, ¡®Blade Sharpening¡¯, only around the tip so it could penetrate through the weakest part of the opponent¡¯s armour. She thrust the blade into the joints to first disarm him and then kicked him away. Again, the point was to take on these knights to the best of her abilities and not to ensure every kill. If they stood up again after that, then she¡¯d deal with them at that time.


    ¡°Dammit, how¡¯d it come to this?¡± she grimaced as she took a poised stance.


    Three knights suddenly lunged at her from all sides. There wasn¡¯t anything she could do to avoid all of them. What she could do was to minimize the damage. She engaged with one of the knights, blocking his attack by using her sword as a defensive tool, and dampened the damage she took from the other two with the ¡®Enhance Defence¡¯ augmentation. That said, it wasn¡¯t such a convenient spell that would allow her to completely negate damage, thus she had suffered non-fatal cuts and bruises as she took the hit with her body.


    With ¡®Enhance Strength¡¯ she pushed away the knight that was engaging her and focused her attention back to the other two. This time, with both hands she grasped the blade portion of her sword and used it as a club to smash the armour of the other two knights with the thick, solid hilt portion of her sword. Her blade¡¯s integrity was already compromised and without further enhancement magic to sharpen it, it wouldn¡¯t really be effective as a sword at this point. Using her whatever part of her blade to the best of its ability was all she could do. She seriously dented one knights¡¯ armour and completely crushed the chest plate of another. Turning her attention back, she smashed the helmet- and subsequently the head- of the other knight with her enhanced strength.


    However, using augmentation magic upon more augmentation in such quick succession like this was undoubtedly exhausting. That said, there was an even bigger problem with using these spells. ¡®Enhance Strength¡¯, ¡®Enhance Defence¡¯, ¡®Blade Sharpen¡¯, they were all useful spells that had been taught to her since first entering the army, but that was the problem. Despite offering great utility if every soldier knew them wouldn¡¯t that mean it was useless in a way? If one enhanced strength and the other enhanced defence, then that would only bring the situation to equilibrium and the advantage of using the spell would be lost. ¡°Tch,¡± she clicked her tongue in annoyance as she knocked away another knight with her boot.


    That said, if anyone¡¯s augmentation magic was superior, it would be Marianne¡¯s. She trained her ability to have the greatest effect. Instead of having ¡®no effect¡¯ against these knights, it was merely ¡®ineffective¡¯- a minor but important difference. ¡°Hahh... haahh... crap,¡± she was almost out of breath now. Even after all that she only confirmed four or so kills and there were at least another twenty all standing around waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike her. They were like wolves; the moment she showed any signs of faltering or weakness they¡¯d pounce at her. Perhaps it was because they were knights but they never acted in a way that went against their code of chivalry. It would¡¯ve been over already if they just got rid of their honour and tossed sand or rocks at her en masse or something. At least, that was one advantage she had over these people, she didn¡¯t care about preserving the ¡®prettiness¡¯ of a killing floor. But for how long could she keep them at bay with such tactics?


    The enemy¡¯s movements were also a little odd. They were extremely well coordinated even though they never uttered a word to each other- like they were just puppets being controlled by another person. Was this the result of their training or something else? Either way, despite how well they were moving they never seemed to come at her intending to kill. No, they were thrusting at her furiously, and if she wasn¡¯t careful, she could easily lose her life, but they kept at a pace she could barely keep up with- almost intentionally. As one knight was knocked back, another swiftly came to fill the spot- like the tides of the sea.


    Swords were indeed made to cut humanoid shapes, but not really meant to clash against each other or heavy armour. With a quick glance down at her sword she noticed small chips and bits breaking off. After a few more swings it¡¯d probably shatter completely. A knight rushed at her, she blocked his attack and tripped his legs up as his balance was dependent on her. There was no mercy to the fallen over knight as she immediately plunged her sword straight through the gaps between his helmet and armour: his neck. ¡°There are still so many left...¡± she couldn¡¯t help but leak out a small laughter. ¡°Yeah, I always wanted to be a Major,¡± she wryly comforted to herself.


    The faint white glow around her sword that indicated the ¡®Blade Sharpen¡¯ augmentation was active flickered. The problem with using so many augmentation spells was that they drained a considerable amount of mana, and unfortunately Marianne wasn¡¯t especially known for having a large pool of it. She probably only had about 10% ~ 20% left, which would translate to about a minute more of her augmentations. After that, it was probably over. Looking at the dead knights on the floor she took solace in the achievement that all her training added up to something even if it was ultimately meaningless.


    ¡°Dammit,¡± she cursed as her vision was blurring and her strength waned from the blood loss. She avoided fatal damage until now, but the small cuts and bruises she was getting were adding up. She turned to see how Graham and Ann were doing.


    Ann was at the centre so she was safe for now, but a made a ghastly pale and terrified expression. Honestly, if there was any way for them to all get out of here alive, it would be Ann. It was unclear what she did, but before she lost her memories, she was able to take down that incomprehensible monster. Unfortunately, in her amnesiac state she was just another civilian that had to be protected.


    Graham was managing fairly well considering he had no other weapons. His advantage was that he was training to become a mage, therefore had a larger pool of mana than Marianne. That said, ¡°Sh- shit! You bastards, take this!¡± he shouted as he shot a ball of flames from his hands. Just a few weeks ago he didn¡¯t even know how to make a spark, but now he was casually tossing out ¡®Fire Bullets¡¯ left and right. However, that was the problem; his mana reserves weren¡¯t likely to last long if he kept up that expenditure rate. Yet, what other choice did he have? It was the same for her.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Being overwhelmed, he missed one knight that had gotten within striking range of his back. ¡°Graham!¡± she shouted, but it didn¡¯t make it in time as the enemy struck down his back with a direct hit.


    ¡°Gahah...!¡± he shrieked painfully as he fell to his knees. A massive gaping hole and a torrent of blood gushed out from his wound. ¡°No... I refuse... to let it... end... like this...!¡± he shouted as he launched a massive burst of flame towards the sky. ¡®Why was he doing that?!¡¯ Marianne wondered as she fended off another strike. Was it meant to serve as a flare? But with them being so far off from the garrison would any of them notice?


    She soon realized Graham¡¯s intentions however, as the flames rushed back onto the earth like rain. The knights probably couldn¡¯t see it due to their helmets, but the moments they touched those flames, not only did they burn up, but their armour melted away as a noxious purple and black haze leaked out. Immediately several knights shouted in agony. Five knights were killed from that attack and three more were incapacitated.


    ¡°Heh... serves you bastards right... How do you like that? My... Flare... Acid...¡± he scoffed as he fell to the floor unconscious and bleeding out.


    ¡°Graham!¡± Marianne shouted out but wasn¡¯t able to get to him as her path had been impeded by knights. Somehow, between her and Graham they had taken out ten or eleven knights. It was an impressive feat with just two garrison soldiers; it truly illustrated how effective magic was in combat even if it was used by an amateur, as well as her own training. However, that wasn¡¯t enough. There were still around a dozen and a half more knights remaining. ¡°You¡¯ll pay for that!¡± she shouted as she felt the bloodied rage take over her. She didn¡¯t care about conserving mana anymore- it was clear she wouldn¡¯t make it out alive anyway.


    She focused her ¡®Enhance Strength¡¯ augmentation around her feet to move faster and give more power to her kicks. She danced around the battlefield, cutting down knight after knight. She¡¯d kick them, stab them, and pummel them down with her sword. She did whatever she had to in order to defeat them. With enough rage and determination she was able to cleave a man cleanly in half with just a single swing.


    One kill, two kills, three... but her fuel ran out at the most inopportune time as a knight caught her off guard and slashed down at her chest. She moved back just in time to avoid a direct killing blow, but now she had to fight with this massive cut. It stung. It felt like her entire body was on fire and her consciousness was being physically dragged down to the ground as were her eyelids. How simple it would be for her to just close her eyes and let everything end. ¡®So tired,¡¯ she muttered. She was sorry to Ann for not being able to properly protect her, but that couldn¡¯t be helped. ¡°Caroline... Mordred... Captain August...¡± she uttered under her breath. The name of her friend in the capital who she couldn¡¯t say goodbye to, the person she loved who she couldn¡¯t confess her love for in the end, and her captain for letting him down by dying here.


    She staggered back a few steps, but at that moment another knight came in to strike at her arm and managed to cut it off. Her entire arm from below the shoulders had been detached and fell to the floor like a lump of meat. ¡°Arrgghhh!¡± she cried out not from the pain- she couldn¡¯t feel anything due to the numbness- but because it had come as such a visual shock to her. She quickly took in deep breaths and dropped her sword to hold her remaining stump of an arm, but at that moment a sword struck through her back and pierced through her body.


    ¡®In the end, is this all I can do?¡¯ she asked herself and tried to stand once more, but her body fell collapsed limped and paralysed to the ground. With her dying breath she reached out to Ann who came rushing to support her. ¡®Run away,¡¯ she wanted to tell her but the words clung to her throat and refused to leave. ¡®I¡¯m sorry¡¯...


    ¡°Marianne! Mari¡­ ne¡­!¡± her hearing dulled, and eventually a cold, desolate darkness overtook her.


    *


    *


    *


    ¡°No...! Marianne! Graham!¡± Ann called for them, but there was no response. Seeing their unmoving, corpse-like state, at that moment flashes of forgotten memories started to return. It was just like this; a horrific scene of her comrades being slaughtered by the monster with many eyes. ¡°Not... again, I¡¯ll lose my friends again?¡± her face felt warm as tears dripped down her cheeks.


    Suddenly, it was as though time stopped around her. The air was dry and unmoving, those sinister knights ceased their movements and the world grew a cold and dark grey. ¡°Do you want to save them?¡± the childish voices of young boys asked in unison.


    ¡°What? Who¡¯s there? Who are you?!¡± Ann asked. She glanced around in panic but the origin of the voice was nowhere to be seen.


    ¡°I am... we are the light and darkness that resides within your soul. We are contracted through the weapon to become your strength.¡± It suddenly spoke of things she could not understand, but she felt this voice was nostalgic. Listening to her heart she reached out and took hold of the twin, monochromatic daggers she had hanging by her waist. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s right. You may have forgotten, and we may have failed you, but if you trust us once more, then we can help you forge your own future. We can become the sole light in the darkness, or we can snuff out even the most potent light with our darkness. The choice is yours. Please... Accept us once again.¡±


    ¡°I... I remember nothing, but... I will trust you!¡± Ann decided and tightly grasped at her twin daggers. As she did, the daggers glimmered with a faint and comforting blue glow. ¡°This is... my Ego Weapon...¡± she started to remember. Like a torrent of rushing water, images of her past filled her head. Painfully, like it was trying to split her head open, but she endured it all. Tears rushed down her face as the most recent memory of having lost everyone under her unit came back to her. ¡°I remember now... about everything.¡±


    Two silhouettes of young boys stood before her, one black and one white. They stretched out their arms, ¡°welcome back, Petra!¡± greeted the twin Egos of her daggers.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± she nodded with conviction as she took their hands and stood back up. She peered down at the two unconscious and quickly dying bodies of the friends she made here and silently told them, ¡°please wait a little longer. I¡¯ll definitely save you two!¡± ¡®Petra¡¯ took a stance with her daggers as time moved forward once more.


    The knights, having noticed that something had changed about her took a more defensive stance. However, that was not enough to protect them from the fangs of the First Prince¡¯s Assassin. She moved swifter than the wind and lighter than feathers. On the battlefield, the moment the opponent saw her figure was the moment they died. Her shimmering blades sliced through the thick plated armour of the knights like a hot knife through butter. Killing had become as easy as breathing to her now.


    In a single movement she had taken the lives of a handful of Knights. Their bodies fell with a loud ¡®clunk¡¯ as their armour hit the floor. Surprisingly, none of them showed any signs of fear. ¡®They¡¯re very well trained,¡¯ she commented to herself, but that was not enough. In the blink of an eye all but one knight had fallen: the commanding and most decorated knight. His armour had a mixture of gold and silver woven into it. Hs sword was larger than the others as well, but he clearly had the skills to wield it effectively. She respected that, but she would not give in to it.


    The knight charged at her with his large two-handed sword poised to straight. His swings were heavy but also frighteningly agile. It was obvious he was no stranger to combat and even blocked a few of Petra¡¯s strikes even though the same attack had killed several other knights. ¡°You¡¯re not bad,¡± she praised, but the knight remained silent. Upon this battlefield littered with bodies, she navigated briskly without tripping over, however the knight could not afford the same manoeuvrability. She used this to her advantage as she moved in silently behind him and struck a defining blow. His armour was sundered in two, exposing his softer insides. ¡°I¡¯m ending this!¡± she shouted as she activated the special skill granted to all Ego Weapons. Each special skill was different, but it especially suited her profession.


    ¡®Double Assassinate¡¯. As the name suggested, it was a skill that allowed her to use two ¡®Assassinates¡¯ simultaneously. Without hesitation she struck at the knight¡¯s back. The attack was so potent that even with her incomplete version of Assassinate it cleft his body in half.


    As soon as the battle was over she fell to her knees. ¡°Haah... hahh... hahahaha...!¡± she laughed. ¡°I did it, Prince Bradley... and I will return to your side soon.¡±

 Chapter 19//Explaining the Trick

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 19//Explaining the Trick


    Mordred stood upon a field of flowers littered by the deceased bodies of the knights he had summoned. However, nothing was dead- not truly; the grotesque splashes of crimson blood were not truly blood but plain black ooze, and the bodies were not corpses but carved wooden dolls dressed in steel-plate armour. With a click of his fingers the illusion was lifted. ¡®Wooden Legion¡¯, an intermediate-tier Puppeteer skill that did exactly as the name implied and summoned a small army of wooden soldiers. It wasn¡¯t known to be powerful and was utilized mainly by low-level Puppeteer mains to soak up damage. Even still, Mordred limited the power output of these puppets to make sure the experimental samples wouldn¡¯t die, but he had underestimated his own ability to handicap himself.


    ¡°Hmm, so that¡¯s how you use Bard skills?¡± asked Morialia as she floated about her master like a fish swimming in water, and her long black hair fluttered behind like the fins of one too. When it was just the two of them she had let out her more demonic traits as keeping them suppressed all the time took more effort. ¡®Walking tires me out,¡¯ she also added. Her single obsidian horn that stuck out on the left side of her forehead also glimmered through the lights piercing the canopy of the forest like a blackened diamond.


    ¡°It¡¯s one way to use it anyway,¡± Mordred replied to her question.


    In the game, Bard skills were fancily referred to as ¡®pieces¡¯- as in the musical sort- and the song he had used just now was a Master-tier piece known as ¡®See what I want you to see¡¯. All targets within the song¡¯s effective range were placed under a powerful hallucinatory trap. In the game this effect was portrayed in the form of bombarding the enemy player with ¡®phantom targets¡¯, which were illusions that existed only to the targeted player¡¯s computer screen. On top of that, the secondary effect was a massive reduction of -50% to all stats temporarily. Things worked slightly different in reality than it did in the game, and with the helpful aid of unsuspecting villagers Mordred learnt he had a lot more freedom in how subtly he could influence his victims. The game had limitations for obvious reasons, but with some imagination he could make the afflicted targets see things slightly differently from reality, and he could hold back on the -50% stat penalty too. In this way, he had made Marianne, Graham and Ann believe these wooden dolls were Knights from the Baliazoural Empire.


    ¡°Still, it was quite the unexpected harvest,¡± Morialia commented. ¡°Or perhaps you planned everything out knowing this would happen?¡±


    ¡°Did I know she would regain all her memories at that moment? No,¡± he shook his head with a dry laugh. ¡°Even I couldn¡¯t have known that would happen. I merely figured awakening her Ego Weapon would lead to something interesting. In the event she didn¡¯t recover her memories I would¡¯ve still seen what Ego Weapons from this world were capable of. Either way, I had something to gain.¡±


    ¡°Is that so? I¡¯ll admit though, it was an enjoyable sight. Especially that girl: ¡®Marianne¡¯. She was a lot more capable than I originally gave credit for,¡± Morialia praised with a mischievous chuckle draped in an ominous undertone. ¡°Give her a few hundred years with proper guidance and she might even become a serious contender for the position of my own lieutenant.¡± The Demon Lord¡¯s ¡®Lieutenants¡¯; there were typically four of them; powerful individuals that directed the Demon Lord¡¯s army. In the game they served as the final bosses of their own respective Raid Dungeons and were actually difficult if the player didn¡¯t know what they were doing. At the very least, Mordred understood she didn¡¯t say such praises lightly.


    ¡°Do you want her?¡± asked Mordred. It was regrettable that it¡¯d take a few hundred years to train her up to that level, but it could serve as an interesting experiment for the long term. Unfortunately, there was the problem of her lifespan. Mordred and Morialia could probably last almost indefinitely provided that they aren¡¯t killed by anything else, but Marianne was a normal Human. At the current time he had no real way of making someone immortal or lengthening their life. Still, he could ¡®try¡¯.


    Morialia leaned her face closer, ¡°if I said ¡®yes¡¯, would you?¡±


    ¡°Come now, I thought you knew me better than that,¡± Mordred retorted with a mocking scoff. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t just give her to you; no. I¡¯d fabricate a situation where she would have no other choice but to accept you.¡±


    ¡°Specifically?¡±


    ¡°I could wipe out the village and pin the blame on some powerful foe. In that situation, if she wanted revenge, she would have to take your hand to become stronger. Of course, this is just a thought exercise and there are countless other methods to force her.¡±


    ¡°You know, you¡¯re quite scary.¡±


    ¡°This, coming from the Demon Lord who took over half of our previous world?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but like, that¡¯s because I¡¯m the Demon Lord. Aren¡¯t you supposed to be a Hero or something?¡±


    ¡°Hero? I wonder...¡± Mordred shook his head. ¡°Still, she used ¡®Interesting¡¯ skills,¡± he commented as he shifted topics. ¡°Enhance Strength, Enhance Defence and Blade Sharpen.¡± Such skills never existed in the game, but there was a skill with similar effects, or rather a skill with all their effects in one: the Elementary-tier Knight skill known as ¡®Combat Stance¡¯. Its effect was enhancing strength, defence, evasion rate, movement speed, attack speed, weapon damage, critical hit damage, and critical rate. Actually, as the Knight class advanced through the skill tree, ¡®Combat Stance¡¯ also improved and would grant massive buffs at the end. An endgame Grandmaster-tier ¡®Combat Stance¡¯ was truly a disgustingly overpowered buff. In any case, enhancing only one aspect each while continuously consuming mana seemed exceedingly inefficient. If it was to be placed in a tier it would most likely be sub-elementary-tier.


    ¡°Hah? I don¡¯t know what you find interesting about such crappy skills,¡± Morialia shrugged. ¡°More importantly, aren¡¯t you glad your original experiment succeeded? That boy managed to use Flare Acid. It seems skills can be taught to people of this world too.¡±


    ¡°Right, which also means it wasn¡¯t just my imagination when Ann used ¡®Assassinate¡¯. Moreover, her Ego Weapon granted the use of ¡®Double Assassinate¡¯, and it works exactly the same as it did in our world,¡± he sounded rather excited as he said so. No surprise, ¡®Assassin¡¯ was Mordred¡¯s personal favourite class. Since an Ego Weapon¡¯s special abilities are unique to each weapon, this was a skill that even he did not possess. The gamer part of him was a little jealous, but for the most part he never allowed these emotions to get the better of him. If he acted on his jealousy every time another player with a different Ego Weapon used their special abilities, there¡¯d be no end to it.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    That said, he still did want to see what Double Assassinate was capable of. In the game it did as its name implied and doubled the damage of Assassinate, which was an extraordinary buff to that skill. ¡®Does it work the same here?¡¯ he wondered. He couldn¡¯t come to a conclusion seeing it only once and used in conjunction with such an incomplete Assassinate, but there was no reason to doubt that it did now that it was known the people in this world could also use the game¡¯s abilities.


    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s great that you¡¯re enjoying yourself, but shouldn¡¯t we be getting back to the clinic?¡± Morialia asked noticing her master lost in deep contemplation. ¡°If we¡¯re not there by the time that girl brings the two wounded, she¡¯d get suspicious.¡±


    ¡°I suppose you have a point,¡± Mordred agreed. ¡°Let¡¯s return.¡±


    *


    *


    *


    A few hours had passed since Ann- now ¡®Petra¡¯- had brought the grievously wounded Marianne and Graham to the clinic for emergency treatment. With the sun now sitting upon an orange sky, the mood at the garrison had similarly mellowed down. That said, while their friends and fellow soldiers were all waiting with bated breaths for the ¡®doctor¡¯ to pull a miracle, Mordred and Morialia had been setting around sipping tea. This was because he had already healed them back to full condition the moment their dying bodies were brought into the clinic but he had to at least give off the impression he was working desperately to save them. Therefore, he had the two put to sleep while he staved off time.


    ¡°How much longer do we have to stay put?¡± asked a bored Morialia. As always, she rolled around on the clinic¡¯s bed while stuffing her face with the cookies she had received from the villagers. She let out a lengthy sigh as even these sweets weren¡¯t doing much for her anymore, though she still continued to eat them.


    Mordred peered out from the window of the second floor. ¡°I guess this was long enough,¡± he replied in a tone reminiscent of someone waiting for a cake to finish baking in the oven. He walked over and observed the two figures deeply asleep on the clinic¡¯s beds. He was even kind enough to patch up Marianne¡¯s left arm- on a whim.


    Feeling that enough time had been wasted he retreated down to the first floor where eager eyes were waiting for good news. Particularly Captain August stood tall in his large frame but face filled with anxiety like a high school girl before her crush. ¡°Doctor!¡± he called out. ¡°How are they?¡±


    Mordred pretended to let out a relieved sigh and smiled, ¡°they¡¯ll be just fine. With a bit of rest they should be able to return to duty in a few days,¡± he reported.


    A long, drawn-out sigh of relief escaped from the collective throats of all those that were waiting.


    ¡°Thank goodness,¡± said some members of the garrison.


    ¡°I knew the doctor would pull through for us!¡± another shouted.


    ¡°Graham that bastard, I bet he did this because he wanted to skip out on practice,¡± another joked. There were mixed filling going around, but all of them were glad that they didn¡¯t have to bury their colleagues.


    ¡°It was a good thing you brought them back in time,¡± Mordred told Petra. ¡°Any longer and it was starting to look very grim.¡±


    However, Petra shook her head with a guilty expression. ¡°No, if I had focused on regaining my memories before that, then none of this would¡¯ve happened.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t beat yourself up like that,¡± August interjected as he placed his hand over her shoulders. ¡°There¡¯s no way you could¡¯ve known when your memories would return. Frankly, if it was up to me I¡¯d award you a damn medal. But dammit,¡± the captain cursed, ¡°to think the Empire¡¯s knights have already infiltrated this far into the country. Just how the hell did they get past the eastern borders?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure, but you should quickly send a word to the capital about that,¡± Mordred advised.


    ¡°I¡¯ve already sent a letter to them.¡±


    ¡°All we can hope for is they¡¯ll take this seriously.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but anyway, thank you for everything doctor,¡± August once more expressed his gratitude.


    ¡°I was merely doing my duty. As it is yours to protect the citizens, it is mine to help the wounded and sick. Let us hope we can continue to do so for a very long time.¡±


    ¡°Agreed.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that reminds me,¡± Mordred said to change the topic and turned to Petra. ¡°Ann... I mean, Petra, since you¡¯ve recovered from your amnesia I want to take another look at you. I need to make sure that everything is fine, so when you have the time please come see me.¡±


    ¡°Actually, about that, doctor,¡± Petra voiced hesitantly. ¡°I¡¯m grateful for all you¡¯ve done for me, but it seems I don¡¯t have the leisure to stay in this village anymore. As soon as I can, I need to return to the capital.¡±


    ¡°Hmm, well I suppose that shouldn¡¯t be too much of a problem considering what you accomplished today. But still, there is a few things I wish to ask you, so could you spare time?¡±


    ¡°Then, if it¡¯s acceptable, I can answer whatever questions you have right now,¡± Petra offered.


    Mordred thought for a second and agreed. ¡°Yes, okay, we can do it right now. Then, please follow me.¡±


    *


    *


    *


    Once night had fallen, Petra took advantage of the darkness to return. Perhaps it was her instincts as an Assassin that preferred such ungodly hours to operate in, but it was a good thing that there were fewer eyes on her. The only people to see her off were Mordred and Morialia.


    ¡°Truly, I cannot thank you enough, doctor,¡± said Petra. ¡°But was answering your questions enough? I told you everything they permitted me to say, but I feel like I owe you a lot more for everything you¡¯ve done.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m happy you feel that way, but I¡¯m quite satisfied,¡± Mordred responded with an easy smile. Most of the information he had received previously from the garrison soldiers or the villagers were unreliable at best. Perhaps this was to be expected as they were merely soldiers serving at a distant border village, but it was honestly a letdown. Thus, it had been such a boon to receive such detailed information from a person who had seen the situation with her own eyes. Most of the information he had gotten from Petra may have been public knowledge, but it was enough to draw certain conclusions and formulate plans.


    ¡°I¡¯ll probably know when you arrive at the capital, so when that time comes I¡¯ll show you around.¡±


    ¡°Yes, that would be much appreciated.¡±


    With their brief farewells said, Petra walked over to a wide, open area and stretched out her arm. Suddenly a large, dark grey horse emerged from her shadows. It stood almost two-and-a-half metres tall with ghastly red eyes glimmering through the darkness of the night. It stared down at Mordred, examining him closely before backing off docilely. Perhaps it had understood on an instinctual level that he was not an opponent that it could afford to mess with and expect to live.


    ¡°How strange, Gaunt-steeds are usually typically aggressive to strangers,¡± Petra commented.


    ¡°Gaunt-steeds? Is it an undead?¡±


    ¡°Yes, they¡¯re exceptionally hard to tame but worth all the effort. They¡¯re much faster than the average horse and don¡¯t require any rest,¡± she explained as she patted its head. ¡°Well then, doctor, Morialia, once again thank you for everything. I hope to see you at the capital soon.¡± With those parting words she disappeared into the night with furious gallops.


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you easily let her go,¡± Morialia noted in a bemused tone.


    ¡°Killing someone so close to the First Prince would be rather inconvenient. Not only that, but she has good will towards me and that can later be exploited. There¡¯s no need to rush things in that regard. The problem is with the state of this country; it¡¯s in a much worse condition that I anticipated,¡± he let out a small, frustrated sigh. ¡°That said, the First Prince seems capable of handling it for a little longer, at least until my end of the board is set.¡±


    ¡°You Humans sure love politics, huh?¡±


    ¡°I do quite enjoy the nuance of the game,¡± Mordred commented with a sinister laughter. ¡°More importantly, how do you feel about fulfilling your role as the Demon Lord?¡±

 Chapter 20//The Shadow of Xagontetia

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 20//The Shadow of Xagontetia


    There were two facets to Xagontetia¡¯s ruling cabinet; due to the war against the larger neighbouring Empire, the Royal Family had delegated some of its power to the Ministry of War to direct the war effort more efficiently. As a result, said Ministry had become bloated to the degree it had to employ several minister-level officials who also vainly held the dual title of ¡®General¡¯. These ¡®ministers¡¯- number in six- were all recruited from the same rotten pool of greed-ridden nobles under the leadership of the head honcho, Duke ¡®Paran Alei Norman¡¯.


    With his direction they had ¡®peacefully repossessed¡¯ several territories around the country under the pretext of ¡®improving the war effort¡¯. These attempts were furiously opposed at first by their respective feudal lords, but few could refute the power of the crown which the Ministry of War now held. From the previous thirty territories of Xagontetia, there were now only six, all own by these nefarious Ministers.


    ¡°Heh, hehehe... has things ever been this easy in all of Xagontetia¡¯s history?¡± asked one minister while greedily slopping his lips as though he were about to dine on a delectable beef steak, his rotund body resembling a beach-ball more than an actual human shape.


    To celebrate their newfound wealth and power, the ministers had all gathered around Paran¡¯s obnoxiously opulent mansion for an early ¡®summer BBQ¡¯ event. Hearty and malignant laughs echoed throughout his backyard for several days straight as they were happily partying amid a historical war that could end their country. However, none of them showed any signs of fear, worry or even remorse. This was because they were all in on the joke- the joke known as ¡®the end of Xagontetia¡¯.


    ¡°Right, that idiotic Prince is rather pitiful in a way. He¡¯s desperately trying to keep this country afloat when it will obviously crumble,¡± commented another minister as he took a large mouthful of a well-grilled hamburger steak. They were all fully aware that this country would collapse soon and thus took certain ¡®contingencies¡¯. ¡°Though honestly, I kind of wish he¡¯d just give up soon and accept his fate. Our friends in the Empire are all getting a little anxious. Isn¡¯t that right? Mister Nicholai Ilyich?¡± the minister turned to a tall man who had been standing around in the corner observing them through his rounded spectacles.


    He wore a smart grey suit that outlined his slender yet muscular features. His facial features were sharp and clean, exuding an intimidating aura that could silence even the most boisterous of children. His hair hid a few greys in between, but instead of making him seem aged it merely accentuated his character- making him seem more like an experienced, older gentleman. The man let out a deep puff of his cigarette and nodded wordlessly to that minister¡¯s mindless rambling.


    This man was not a citizen of Xagontetia but an illegal foreign envoy that had been smuggled into the country by Duke Paran to conduct negotiations. He had been staying as a guest at the Duke¡¯s mansion for the past few months and had gotten a roughly accurate understanding of his host¡¯s rotten personality. Watching these parasites stuffing their faces all day and easing their lusts with innocent young girls at night, some part of him wanted to knock their lights out. ¡®Disgusting,¡¯ thought Nicholai as he continued to smoke his cigarette. They had ordered him to stay here until the war was over, but his patience had been taking a massive toll.


    In exchange for sabotaging their own country, the Ministry of War had been promised a title of nobility and a generous amount of land from the Empire once they took over Xagontetia. Like moths to a flame they all bought into it and immediately started work on destroying the very country that created them. Of course, eventually those moths would burn; likewise Nicholai knew the Empire had no intention of fulfilling their promise. In fact, anyone with half a mind would¡¯ve realized this already, but these fat parasites thought otherwise. ¡®Would they do anything to increase their wealth and cholesterol?¡¯ wondered Nicholai as he continued to observe with a wince.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    ¡°Hmm, but don¡¯t you think that stupid Prince already knows we¡¯ve betrayed him?¡± asked one minister in between eating.


    ¡°Even if he figured it out, what can he do? Since we control the majority of the territory, it would be a terrible idea for him if all of us were removed. It¡¯d be like suddenly removing the queen from a hive, without us the system would come crashing down, and he can¡¯t afford any of that during the most important war in this country¡¯s history,¡± Paran answered as he let out a horrendously ghastly laugh. He then eyed some maid servants that were coming and going to deliver food and licked his lips. His eyes shined ominously with the lust of a wolf before a crippled prey.


    ¡®Does he even have a heart? Or did all that fat clog it?¡¯ thought Nicholai.


    ¡°Lord Paran,¡± Nicholai called out to him. There was no chance that he did so because he wanted a conversation partner, he merely thought that as long as he was here he might as well do some good in the world. ¡°I¡¯ve heard you also pick up ¡®goods¡¯ from the streets.¡±


    TO put it bluntly: illegal slaves. Most of them were orphans or those with no family so they wouldn¡¯t be tracked or noticed. Young girls and some boys were kept in cages down in his basement as though fellow Humans were mere animals and pets to be kept. He even had some ¡®special slaves¡¯ which were of more exotic races, rarest being the Elves.


    ¡°Ah, are you interested, Mister Nicholai? We¡¯ve gotten quite the haul in the past few weeks. Some of my men even caught an Elf though it took a bit more effort and thus would cost you more. Heh... hehehe,¡± the man¡¯s fat lips continued to move as it let out a foul odour. At that moment Nicholai wanted nothing more than for this unsightly man to drop dead from heart failure.


    Nicholai extinguished his cigarette by stomping it against the dirt and stood up. ¡°Please let me see them.¡±


    ¡°O- of course, of course!¡± the pudgy man jumped up with glee and the prospect of money and led him down to the basement.


    *


    *


    *


    It was dark and a foul stench was in the air. It was like a zoo, but all the animals were in pain. A suffering moan came from within the cages, and as Nicholai peered inside, he could see malnourished children being kept with collars around their necks. They stared up at him with blank eyes, some of them expressing anger or fear, but nothing positive.


    Nicholai grimaced as he somehow suppressed his urge to smash the pudgy duke¡¯s head against the wall and free all these children. He had to keep in his disgust because his country demanded he interacts with these horrible people to end the war just a bit quicker and with lesser deaths. That said, it went against not just his morals but every instinct in his body to do such dirty work.


    ¡°Heh heh, what do you think, Mister Nicholai? See any you like?¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you say you had an Elf too?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Ah, this way please,¡± the man guided him like a storekeeper revealing his most prized and expensive stock.


    He was guided into the far back where a single cage had been kept hidden behind a thick, black tarp. Removing the cover revealed a horrible malnourished Elven girl with fair white hair and reddish eyes. Her long ears were ragged and torn, and her complexion was horribly pale. She was naked, but rather than lust, the only emotion that could be felt from any normal Human being was pity. She had been so starved that her ribcages could be seen from the outside, and her arms were as thin and twigs. They gave her a dog bowl with murky porridge dumped onto it.


    The girl immediately shrieked back as she tried to hide her face with her arms and balled into a foetal position. She whimpered horribly as she shook.


    ¡°Hey! What are you doing?! Show your face immediately!¡± shouted Paran.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Nicholai stopped him and took a deep breath to sigh. ¡°I¡¯ll take all of them,¡± he told him.


    ¡°Eh?¡± Paran was stunned but his eyes grew wide. ¡°A- all of them?¡±


    ¡°All, and anymore you find, I¡¯ll buy them up immediately,¡± he replied. Nicholai was not one for lacking money. His father was a Margrave overseeing a border territory that was in direct conflict with Xagontetia. He himself had been a military man for as long as he could remember and had always learnt to be moral. He simply couldn¡¯t ignore these children who were obviously suffering like this.


    ¡°Th- then, should I have my servants arrange a transport back to your homeland?¡± Paran asked.


    ¡°No!¡± Nicholai shouted, then realizing himself he calmed down and continued, ¡°no, that¡¯s quite fine. I¡¯ll have one of my servants take care of it. Thank you.¡±


    ¡°Of course. Pleasure doing business with you.¡±

 Chapter 21//The Birth of a Conspiracy

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 21//The Birth of a Conspiracy


    ¡°Fulfil my role as the Demon Lord?¡± asked Morialia. She knew her master wasn¡¯t such a benevolent person as to actually allow her the freedom to restart her conquest in this world. Right, one would have greater luck winning the lottery. Whatever he was talking about was probably just going to be another one of his ¡®schemes¡¯. In fact, when she thought back to it, her master had never truly treated her like a ¡®Familiar¡¯ but more as a ¡®pet¡¯, and maybe one day she could be promoted to ¡®errand boy¡¯. Thinking this way she couldn¡¯t help but let out the sigh of the century at her clouded future.


    The master in question let out a condescending scoff as if to insinuate he knew what she was thinking. ¡°For now, just follow me. There¡¯s something I want to show you,¡± he replied and guided her back to the clinic. The building they had been borrowing from the villagers was a two-storey structure with a basement floor they had temporarily converted into the operating room. As such, everyone knew not to intrude upon the good ¡®doctor¡¯ in that room, meaning it was the perfect place to hide anything suspicious.


    When they arrived at the gloomy basement illuminated by a few magical stones converted into lamps, she noticed a strange object hanging at the back of the room that wasn¡¯t there before. It was a large, black ¡®casket¡¯. Seeing this she commented as a joke, ¡°what, are you planning on changing your race to a Vampire or something? Because let me tell you: even though their base stats are pretty high, those leeches have way too many weaknesses to be a viable contender for anything. Not only that, their pride is distastefully obnoxious for mere mosquitoes.¡±


    As she said that, unpleasant memories of her previous world flashed through her mind. Even the Demon Lord had to have started from somewhere, and before she held the supreme position, she was only a candidate at one time. After her father was slain by those filthy servants of God several hundred years ago, there was a massive power vacuum amongst the Demons. Children of the former Demon Lord- her siblings- emerged to vie for the throne like hungry wolves. After a long period of civil war, two final contenders were left: herself and a brother that happened to be a Vampire. He always showed such a haughty and condescending attitude and believed the race of Vampires were the true nobility amongst Demons. ¡®It¡¯s only natural as the leader of all Demons that ¡®I¡¯ should take the throne,¡¯ he said with that smug face of his.


    So she killed him. She killed him in the most ironic way imaginable. She drowned him in a sea of blood extracted from his fellow ¡®noble¡¯ Vampires. Thousands upon thousands of Vampires were killed and drained of their blood all so she could mock him as he choked on that ¡®nobility¡¯. ¡®Tell me when you tire of drinking blood,¡¯ she told him as he died. In any case, the moral of the story was that all Vampires were useless trash and if any ever acted arrogantly before her she would spare nothing to make them suffer. Heck, it was a hobby at this point. As a result, the Vampiric population of their previous world was at dangerous levels. Unfortunately for them, there was no ¡®Vampire Preservation Society¡¯ or anything either.


    ¡°No,¡± her master denied.


    Upon approaching the mysterious black casket, as if on cue, the lid slowly slid open to reveal the slumbering figure of a naked woman. Her features were doll-like and her beauty was such that it had even dazed Morialia for a moment. Her hair was a pastel platinum-blonde that hung down just past her shoulders. She had long eyelashes that glittered as the dim lights of the magic stones reflected off it. Her facial features accentuated towards her supple, cherry pink lips that seduced both men and women alike. Her skin was such a pale white that one could see her blue-blooded veins running beneath her flesh, and her figure was a perfect balance of womanly and graceful: long legs, slender fingers, long neck that followed down to her alluring collar bones, and a smooth stomach without fault. By appearances alone she looked to be in her mid-to-late twenties. That said, there was one glaring ¡®imperfection¡¯ to her personage; her right arm below her elbow was missing, or rather it was skeletal- no flesh or blood. A golden bracelet was worn around her elbows to separate the skin portion from the bones. For someone so perfect it seemed out of place, yet deliberate at the same time. ¡®Why?¡¯ she wondered.


    ¡°Who is...?¡±


    ¡°I told you before, didn¡¯t I?¡± her master answered before she could finish her sentence. ¡°She is ¡®Morgana¡¯; the saint and the light that will guide this country.¡±


    ¡°Where did you find her?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t. I made her.¡±


    ¡°Made?¡±


    ¡°Through the same method I used to fix Petra, but I started from the ground up. It was a lot more time-consuming and effort-intensive, but otherwise it was fairly straightforward. If I had to describe the process, it was like constructing a massive and ornate Lego tower; impressive and tedious but not in any way complex.¡±


    That explanation flew past Morialia¡¯s head but she could understand the underlying meaning that it was an arduous undertaking. ¡°Well, good job, I guess?¡± she praised as her eyes were glued to the beauty of this unmoving woman. On closer inspection she wasn¡¯t even sleeping, ¡®is she not alive?¡¯ Now that she thought back, it was true that Mordred hadn¡¯t slept in the past few weeks and always seemed to be up to something in the middle of the night. ¡°But,¡± she spoke up as she noticed something about her, ¡°this one¡¯s soul seems... incomplete somehow.¡±


    Her master let out a small chuckle as if to confirm her suspicions. ¡°She is a being that was created and not born, thus she would naturally not have a soul. In essence, all I did was make a beautiful corpse. Thus, to remedy that problem I had to give her a fraction of my own soul. Specifically, I gave her a forth. Unfortunately, that seems to not have been enough as she still isn¡¯t alive.¡±


    That made sense to Morialia. Giving someone a soul was not the equivalent to granting them life. From her limited knowledge of souls, it was something that gave a person ¡®will¡¯, and without it they were nothing more than a meandering husk. Of course, one might then ask why her master hasn¡¯t just used a revival spell. However, such spells weren¡¯t omnipotent; revival spells had a hard limitation of only being able to resurrect a body that had died within twenty-four hours. Therefore, this woman who had never truly been alive to begin with was not someone who could be resurrected.


    She had a soul and a body, but no life. Creating life was the providence of Gods and there weren¡¯t many things in the mortal realm that possessed such power. The only artefact that Morialia personally knew was something known as a ¡®Life Seed¡¯... which, of course, her master possessed as he just took out a shimmering white seed. It glowed magnificently, piercing through the darkness as if it were a second sun. However, there was one thing about this artefact that caught her attention, ¡°you know, that looks oddly familiar,¡± she commented as she squinted her eyes for a closer examination. ¡°Yeah, I think I had one just like it in my old castle.¡±Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°It¡¯s just your imagination.¡±


    ¡°Oiiii! That¡¯s mine, isn¡¯t it?! You thief! How...?! Give it back!¡± she lunged at him while flailing around her arms like a child throwing a tantrum. ¡°That was my father¡¯s memento! When did you even take it from my castle?!¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s yours is mine, and what¡¯s mine is also mine. Isn¡¯t that obvious?¡± he asked her while snickering at her misfortune.


    She almost felt a tear forming at the edge of her eyes at the unfairness of this world. ¡°Hah... haahah... ha...¡± the only thing she could do was bemoan this travesty and bitterly hang down her head. ¡°Yeah, I get it... This is the fate of all losers, huh?¡± Morialia knew that the losers had no right to complain, and what was she if not a loser a hundred times over? It wasn¡¯t just the law of the land, it was a rule that she held at the core of her being. Every one of her siblings that lost in the battle of succession for the Demon Lord¡¯s position was either killed or became her slaves. She did it over and over again as she attempted to conquer their previous world, so she wasn¡¯t going to become a hypocrite now. ¡°Fine, whatever... Just take it, you tyrant!¡±


    ¡°Thank you for the compliment,¡± he swiftly ignored her silent pleas of mercy and pushed the Life Seed into the woman¡¯s mouth.


    ¡®And... There it goes,¡¯ she sighed as she witnessed the artefact, that appeared only once every five-thousand-years, go down the drain. After a few seconds, the woman¡¯s body became more animated as she finally let out a violent cough and collapsed to the floor. In a small way, Morialia felt a little emotional seeing the woman come to life via the memento of her father. It was kind of like being given a brand new little sister, but the soul was that of her hateful master''s. Then again, it wasn¡¯t like she held any love for all her other siblings, so why start now?


    ¡°Ugh... I...¡± the woman slowly opened her bright blue eyes like the sea and stared up at them. ¡°I... I am...? Who?¡± her voice was heavenly, like a soft choir of angels- though it might¡¯ve been odd for the Demon Lord to enjoy such melody.


    ¡°You are ¡®Morgana¡¯,¡± Mordred told her.


    ¡°Mor... gana...¡± she nodded meekly. It was most likely due to the fact she had just come to life, but she appeared very out of it and dazed, and her eyes wondered towards the distance.


    ¡°Hoh, hoho!¡± Morialia leaned in and studied Morgana in greater detail. As expected of someone that was crafted instead of born; from her looks to her voice, she was ¡®perfect¡¯. There was curiosity in her eyes even though she must¡¯ve been terribly confused at what was going on. Aside from language comprehension, had she not been implanted with relevant information and memories? Even still, without having to prove herself, Morialia could instinctively feel that this one would be immediately useful. However, ¡°doesn¡¯t she seem kind of... weak?¡±


    ¡°She was born just now. I don¡¯t know what else you were expecting,¡± her mastered retorted.


    ¡°Then how are you going to use her?¡±


    ¡°Truthfully, it should take around a week to a month for her to fully develop her personality and be of actual use. That said,¡± Mordred crouched down to meet ¡®Morgana¡¯ at eye level as she was slumped over. ¡°I will grant you three gifts,¡± he told her. ¡°The first is your arm,¡± he pointed to the skeletal right arm, and in response she stared at it. ¡°Though it looks like that, that arm has been imbued with the Grandmaster-tier Necromancy spell known as ¡®Soul Harvest¡¯. It can be used up to three times a day and will instantly kill any person with a mere touch, provided they don¡¯t have an unreasonable resistance against instant-death magic. At the very least, there shouldn¡¯t be any in this country, but just keep that in mind.¡±


    The woman turned her gaze back to Mordred and nodded.


    ¡°This is the second gift,¡± he placed into her hands a small white gem with a complicated emblem engraved onto it in red. ¡°That is a Familiar¡¯s Insignia containing the essence of the ¡®Sword of God¡¯. It will do battle in your stead whenever you require it, but I would much rather you didn¡¯t rely on its powers too regularly.¡±


    ¡°Sword of God...? Where have heard that before?¡± Morialia mumbled as the name seemed so familiar and was at the cusp of her tongue. Then suddenly her eyes widened and sweat profusely leaked from her forehead. ¡°Wait, wait, wait, isn¡¯t that ¡®Umbriel¡¯?! How come... I mean, weren¡¯t you guys on the same side?¡± confusion ran amok in her brain. ¡®Sword of God¡¯ was just a title and he wasn¡¯t literally a sword. ¡®Umbriel¡¯ was the right hand of God in their previous world, and thus a force that opposed the Demon Lord- herself. As far as she remembered, Mordred and those Gods had the same mission to defeat her, so they should¡¯ve been on the same side.


    ¡°You mean the game¡¯s setting... I mean, those Gods? Well, it was just a trivial fallout,¡± he laughed but his eyes weren¡¯t laughing. She shuddered at the notion that her master was powerful enough to slay even the Gods of their previous world. ¡®Exactly what sort of monster was I fighting against?¡¯ another shiver ran down her spine.


    ¡°Umbriel...¡± the woman repeated its name as she tightly grasped the Familiar¡¯s Insignia. In any case, a Familiar was a good choice as its strength was independent to that of the summoner¡¯s, and Umbriel was definitely a worthy fighting force. In fact, if memory served her correctly, he took out one of her top Lieutenants. If that power was retained then Morgana could still be useful without having to be trained for hundreds of years.


    ¡°And my final gift to you is this,¡± Mordred declared as he pulled out an entire set of high-levelled armour. It was an elaborate but simple looking white armour that gleamed brilliantly with a holy aura.


    This too seemed familiar to Morialia. ¡°Hmm? Could this be what those Paladins wore?¡± The ¡®Paladins¡¯ referred to the Champions of God, and though their strength wasn¡¯t the strongest, their defensive abilities were nigh impregnable. ¡°Well, that armour would definitely be useful to her, but if she wore that wouldn¡¯t she stand out too much? I mean, I realize that¡¯s her job- to stand out- but wearing that would attract the wrong attention.¡±


    ¡°I know. That¡¯s why I¡¯ll give her this as well,¡± Mordred handed her a packet of... stickers. ¡°These are ¡®fashion tokens¡¯, a vanity item that allows you to hide the armour you¡¯re wearing but retain the stats. Once it¡¯s hidden, you can wear whatever you want on top. Unfortunately, whatever you wear on top will have its stats negated.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah, I forgot those existed.¡± As her master stated, it really was a stylistic thing that allowed people to run around wearing whatever they wanted. When she first encountered the Humans using those stickers that was when she realized how vain Humanity was. However, now that she thought about it, this item was rather useful for Morgana if she would be working within the country.


    ¡°With these three gifts, you will serve me from now on.¡±


    She didn¡¯t reply but stared back to Mordred with a stern gaze filled with determination and nodded.


    ¡°So, what happens to me now?¡± Morialia asked as she ruined the moment between the two. They stared back at her almost accusingly as if she had committed a crime. Her master sighed with a hint of disappointment then doled out her new mission.


    ¡°A Demon Lord without an army feels a little lacking, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Huh? Yeah, I guess so.¡±


    ¡°Then your next mission is decided. You¡¯ll go to formally induct those Dragons in the North into your new ¡®Demon Lord¡¯s Army¡¯. And if they happen to refuse... well, make sure they don¡¯t. You can be a little rough so long as not too many dies.¡±


    A wide, blood-thirsty grin stretched across Morialia¡¯s face involuntarily. ¡°Oh! Master, you certainly know how to please a girl!¡±

 Chapter 22//Brewing Storm

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 22//Brewing Storm


    ¡°I was honestly starting to fear for the worst, but I¡¯m glad you could make it back safely,¡± said the First Prince, Bradley Avon Leonhardt. He smiled gently at the figure of his closest subordinate who had returned alive from what seemed like a suicide mission in hindsight. She showed a complicated expression upon her face but eventually let out a relieved sigh. He understood why she wasn¡¯t inclined to feel the same relief he had, ¡°I¡¯ve received your report,¡± he told her. After she had returned, she was immediately sent to the royal court¡¯s doctor for a medical examination, and during that period she had formally submitted a report on what had happened. ¡°About the rest of your unit, it¡¯s a shame but at least you made it back. Their sacrifice definitely wasn¡¯t in vain, I promise you.¡±


    Petra lowered her head apologetically, ¡°forgive me your highness, not only did the mission end in disaster, I have been derelict in my duties.¡±


    ¡°Perish the thought, it was amnesia wasn¡¯t it?¡± from the evaluations of the royal court doctors, they stated that she had suffered heavy injury and trauma during her mission leading to a temporary loss of her memories. The injuries were nothing to scoff at, in fact from what the doctor had said, it wouldn¡¯t have been strange for her to not have returned at all. It was such a horrifically serious wound they were more impressed with the doctor who had fixed that, at the very least they admitted that if it were them, they would never have been able to patch Petra back up. ¡®It was as though the hands of God had intervened and saved her life,¡¯ was the expression they used. ¡°It couldn¡¯t be helped and I certainly do not blame you. There¡¯s no need for you to feel any responsibility, in fact, the onus was on me for sending you out on such a dangerous mission with no other precautions. I hope you can forgive me for that.¡±


    ¡°N- No, there isn¡¯t anything you did wrong, your highness. Please raise your head,¡± Petra denied. ¡°That kind of monster... no one could¡¯ve imagined its existence,¡± she said as she gritted her teeth and clenched her fists in frustration.


    ¡°Right, in your report you mentioned such that. Exactly what was it you encountered?¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t anything I¡¯ve ever seen or heard of before: a headless terror with a hundred crimson eyes and the strength to overpower even my Ego weapon,¡± she commented as she clasped tightly around the dual daggers hanging by her waist. ¡°When my unit first found that monster, it was sitting around completely still, almost as though it were sleeping or inactive. A monster covered in black fur and with a single gigantic red eye at the centre of its body. Naturally we assumed that would be its weakness, but when we struck it, hundreds of eyes all over it body peeled open which only enraged the beast and made it more powerful. A single swing of its attack was enough to kill a fully-grown man and destroy massive chunks of the forest.¡±


    ¡°A headless monster with a hundred eyes...¡± the prince thought to himself for a moment as he searched through his mind¡¯s bestiary, but even with the country¡¯s greatest education there was no such monster that seemed remotely close to what she just described. ¡°If it was headless does that mean it was an undead?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s true it had no head but at the base of where its neck would have been, there was only a gigantic gaping hole with lines of sharp teeth like a grinder. I cannot even fathom how its biology functions, much less give you an accurate reading of what category it would be placed under. Structurally it resembled those of the Giant Ogres with its broad shoulders and stubby legs, but it was also covered in black fur, which Ogres are not known to have. It may be a completely new kind of monster.¡±


    ¡°If the centre eye wasn¡¯t its weakness, did you manage to find any on it?¡±


    ¡°No. Its fur was as though as armour and its claws were sharper than the blades of a freshly cut sword.¡±


    ¡°Exactly how powerful would you say it was? For example, if you lined it next to a feral dragon, would it be able to take it down?¡± When it came to monsters, the feral dragon was probably the most difficult opponent a human could face, so it served as a good benchmark for powerful new monsters to be compared with.


    ¡°That¡¯s a difficult question. I¡¯ve taken down wyverns before with some level of difficulty, so there¡¯s no doubt it could easily outclass those. As for a feral dragon that may be more difficult to gauge. Well, if I were forced to give a verdict, I would still say the feral dragon would have the edge because of its ability to become airborne. However, if we took its aerial mobility away from the equation and compared them through natural specs, that headless monster would very easily tear a feral dragon apart.¡±


    ¡°Even with the dragon¡¯s powerful breath attacks?¡±


    ¡°Undoubtedly. Whatever magic my unit threw at it was ineffective. It wasn¡¯t exactly immune to magical attacks, but likely it had a high resistance against it. Even physical attacks were barely working. On top of all that, for its size it was surprisingly agile. While this isn¡¯t a weakness, its lack of ranged abilities may be a way to handle it, but as I said, it is quick so it could easily close a distance of several dozen metres within a few seconds. Other than that, it lacks magical abilities.¡±


    ¡°I see, thank you Petra,¡± Prince Bradley thanked. ¡°I¡¯ll see what my people can find out about it and hopefully formulate a counter strategy. That aside, I am quite interested in this ¡®doctor¡¯ that saved your life. In your opinion, what sort of person was he?¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Petra¡¯s expression seemed to become a little brighter as she reminisced. ¡°Doctor Mordred. Yes, he was a very studious and serious person, but also kind to the people around him. As a result, the villagers and the members of the local garrison well liked him. Regarding his skills as a doctor, I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m not too knowledgeable about such matters but in my opinion his skills were equal to or greater than the doctors of the royal court. On top of all that, he seemed to be adept at elemental magic.¡±


    ¡°Magic, is it? That¡¯s quite impressive for someone so young.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she agreed.


    The prince briefly thought about it and took a deep breath. From the report, this doctor had arrived at the village not too long before Petra was sent to investigate that strange mana phenomenon. Apparently the village also suffered an attack from the same monster but the doctor had taken it out when the garrison could not. Thus, if the timeline in his head was correct, the situation went down like this, ¡°the mana phenomenon occurred, then the village was attacked by that headless monster, then the doctor appeared, then you arrived to fight another headless monster, and after your battle you suffered amnesia and the doctor coincidentally saved you while he was out looking for herbs. Is that about right?¡±


    Petra nodded.


    ¡°Hmm,¡± perhaps it was because foxes and raccoons who only looked to further their own power and wealth had surrounded him, but he couldn¡¯t help feel that there was something suspicious about all of this. It was... ¡°too tidy,¡± like it was all staged, in fact it was the kind of plan the prince himself would plot. ¡°How did the doctor manage to defeat the headless monster the first time when your unit could barely deal with it?¡±


    ¡°From what I was told, the doctor has in his possession a special kind of sword that can cut almost anything. I personally confirmed this sword: it was a thin, transparent blue sword with a unique design so I remember it vividly. He had used that weapon to deal with the monster then.¡±


    ¡°Was it an Ego Weapon?¡±


    ¡°No, it didn¡¯t seem like that.¡±


    ¡°Yet, unique or not, it could cut down the armour of the monster that your Ego Weapon struggled against?¡± Even the national treasure in the hands of Bradley¡¯s older sister, which was a shield that could withstand any attack, was not that impressive. ¡°So this doctor conveniently had a sword that could cut this monster?¡±


    ¡°Does your highness perhaps... doubt the doctor?¡±


    ¡°Doubt? No, but I am curious that you, who isn¡¯t quick to trust anyone, would so easily fall for his charms. Rather than suspicion, it¡¯s more intrigue.¡±


    ¡°Intrigue?¡± she wondered.


    ¡°Suppose everything he did was an act. Let¡¯s say he was the one who set loose the headless monster knowing he could easily kill it with his sword. And let¡¯s suppose he was also the one who started the mana phenomenon.¡±


    ¡°But why would he do something like that?¡±This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    ¡°He could be a spy and was doing it for information. He caused the mana phenomenon so he could attract the attention of someone like myself would send people to investigate it... and I did. Then, he let the monster attack the village so he could come in at the last second and save it. By doing so he could guarantee a trusted position in the village and gather intelligence from the local garrison who would feel indebted to him. Afterwards, all he had to do was wait until someone from the capital came to investigate, then let the second headless monster loose to take them all out and save one of them. The person he saved would also feel very indebted and since he was someone very trusted by the village, you¡¯d also feel safe to tell him all sorts of information.¡± The prince surmised. ¡°Tell me, didn¡¯t he say something like he was out of the country and didn¡¯t know much about it?¡±


    ¡°Well, now that you bring it up, he did say that. But, what about my amnesia?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think he planned that. But the real kicker is those Baliazoural Knights that you reported encountering near the village. There¡¯s no way a small group of them would¡¯ve infiltrated so far into the country, especially not while wearing the crest of the Empire, that¡¯s just stupid.¡±


    ¡°So then, why were they there then? Wearing the crest of the Empire?¡±


    ¡°That... I can¡¯t answer. After doing everything perfectly, there¡¯s no reason for the knights... or at least I can¡¯t think of one. I don¡¯t think it was for the sake of getting rid of you because by that point you still hadn¡¯t regained your memories. If he really was a spy then he¡¯d place a priority on that, but then why did the knights attack?¡± the prince fell deeply into his own thoughts. His eyes then fell onto the dual daggers by Petra¡¯s side, ¡°hmm? Perhaps he was trying to jog your memories.¡±


    ¡°Jog my memories?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Didn¡¯t you say that the moment the knights were closing in on you were when you recovered your memories? Perhaps he wanted your body to naturally remember through fighting.¡±


    ¡°But those were knights,¡± Petra protested, almost as if she wanted to defend the doctor even as he was suspected as being a spy for the enemy Empire. ¡°Even for the Empire, would they really throw away dozens of knight on such an operation with no guarantees of success?¡±


    ¡°It would depend on the mission or the information that¡¯s trying to be collected, but in that instance I would say no. Still, it is all quite a convenient story,¡± the Prince let out a scoff. ¡°Heck, I might¡¯ve done exactly that if I were in his shoe and really was a spy.¡±


    ¡°...¡± Petra remained silent, albeit didn¡¯t stop herself from expressing a little doubt.


    ¡°You seem rather discontent. Not that I blame you, as he was someone who saved your life.¡±


    ¡°No, your highness is correct. If he is such a suspicious individual, it would be best if we attached eyes on him. Would you like me to formally assemble a unit to keep him monitored?¡±


    ¡°Despite the suspicious circumstances, the probability that this doctor is a spy is close to zero. It is true that if he was a doctor with such skills, it is possible that someone would¡¯ve gifted him such a weapon to show appreciation. Even the national treasure was granted to older sister as a reward for her services, so it¡¯s not entirely an outrageous claim. And as you said, it really isn¡¯t the Empire¡¯s MO to waste knights like that. Still, we¡¯re in the middle of a war so it¡¯d be folly to disregard things just because it''s ¡®improbable¡¯. For now, try to keep an eye on him for about a month. If he does nothing suspicious within that timeframe we can revise our strategy, and if he¡¯s clean, I¡¯d like to employ his talents for our own side.¡±


    ¡°Understood.¡±


    As Petra was about to leave, a knock came from the door of his study. ¡°Come in,¡± he ordered and relieved Petra of her duties for now. A tall man dressed in formal attire walked in and placed a small white note on his desk and leaned in to whisper. ¡°Your highness, Drakenholdt is under attack.¡±


    That news honestly came as a surprise, ¡°by whom?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m told it is the red dragon tribe from across the eastern borders,¡± the messenger replied in a hushed tone. ¡°We¡¯re still trying to figure out the exact details of the situation, but it seems the Baliazoural Empire and the red dragons have come to an agreement.¡±


    ¡°But why are they attacking Drakenholdt and not us?¡±


    ¡°As you¡¯re already aware, the red dragons and the gold dragons have always shared a notoriously bad relationship. It¡¯s most likely that the Empire incited this incident. They probably figured our only option for survival is to join forces with the Drakenholdt and Ygdra, so they struck pre-emptively.¡±


    ¡°Would they do that?¡± if they did something like that, all that would achieve was provoking the gold dragons and to give them a legitimate reason to join forces with Xagontetia.


    ¡°Like I said, the information is still unconfirmed, and it is only the red dragons attacking Drakenholdt. If it¡¯s like this, then there is room to deny involvement from the Empire.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I suppose that would make sense. For now, keep watch on the situation and report to me if there¡¯s any change. Our hands are tied until we deal with the Ministry of War.¡±


    *


    *


    *


    ¡°T¡¯is a sorrowful day when dragons must kill one another,¡± commented a melancholic Dragon King as he stood before the battlefield adorned with a luminous golden armour. Standing behind him was his trusted army of gold dragons, and before him, across a mountainous divide, were the forces of the red dragons. Though they shared the same race, they were a most ancient and bitter enemy to the gold dragons; a rivalry spanning to a time before even the Humans could remember.


    After a week of constant fighting the death toll amongst the dragons were up the hundreds. While those casualty rates may have been ideal for the more numerous races, it was a heavy loss to the race of dragons that naturally had low numbers. The skies raged with a war that most races couldn¡¯t even imagine, and molten rocks and death littered the grounds. The thick scent of death soured the king¡¯s mood as he let out a lengthy sigh. A week ago this entire landmass had been a mountain range, and currently the only mountains that existed were the mountains of corpses. The dragons¡¯ war was one that not only changed nations politically but also very literally.


    ¡°Father, it is not safe all the way out here. Please step back,¡± his daughter, Irina Sinclair, warned as she tried to retreat her father to a safer distance.


    ¡°Safe? Bah, there¡¯s no need to worry about me, girl. Those red young¡¯uns are the ones that should be frightened of my presence. Odryr!¡± Aurendra called for his most trusted subordinate. An older gentleman showed himself from the crowd. His hair was a long black with several streaks of white now mixed in to reveal his age, yet his figure was still tall and sturdy. ¡°Take charge of my men,¡± he commanded. ¡°I¡¯ll go deal with these presumptuous bastards myself! Irina, you and your subordinates come with me!¡±


    ¡°Yes, father!¡± she nodded and beckoned for her subordinates to gather at her command.


    With a mighty jump that sent shockwaves throughout the land, Aurendra launched himself into the vast open skies where he regained his draconic form: a large majestic figure with brilliant golden scales whose lustre was revealed by the sun itself, powerful claws that could rend entire castles apart with a single swipe, and large wings that created tornados with every flap. His daughter and her subordinates also took similar forms if only a little lacking when compared to the Dragon King.


    There were two main types of ¡®dragons¡¯ in this world. The first were the ¡®feral dragons¡¯ that were no more than mindless beasts operating on instincts; they were to dragons what monkeys were to humans. Though they were powerful in their own right, without intelligence they were just animals. The second type of dragons were the ¡®ascended dragons¡¯, powerful beings that were said to be second only to the Gods; they were dragons that had evolved intelligence and could apply not just brute force but wisdom. Though their numbers were miniscule compared to the other races of the land, their strength was respected and feared. Upon ascension they gained the ability to take a more humanoid form while still retaining the ability to turn draconic if the situation demanded.


    Several red dragons spotted the enormous figure of the Golden Dragon King quickly approach. The king¡¯s stature was easily double or triple to that of any other dragons, and this caused them to fear. With great majesty and skill, despite his enormous stature, he rushed through the clouds like a needle threading through cloth and began his assault onto the enemy. One mighty swing of his tough claws rent the dragons asunder, and his razor-sharp teeth tore punctured their thick scales as though they were butter. Savagery and brutality in one hand, grace and power in the other; the silhouette of the great Dragon King was enough to put a pause in the invading red dragons.


    As Aurendra continued to soar through enemy-infested skies, the enemy forces began to react to his presence and banded together. In a volley, they spat out balls of fire like rain from the sky, the collective heat of which could melt rocks into lava. He felt their enmity like wading through thick mire, but even all that was not enough to deter the leader of the gold dragons. In retaliation, the king launched his own flame breath attack. Inferno like napalm rushed upwards into the sky and exploded into a million smaller chunks that pelted the entire region into a hellish landscape. The clouds darkened and lightning started to arc across the skies. The enemy dragons were ironically charred alive like chunks of meat and fell to the ground.


    ¡°Bah, is that the best these red ones have? Didn¡¯t they come to invade us?¡± there was a small feeling of disappointment in his heart. Though he didn¡¯t particularly enjoy war and especially not the killing of fellow dragons, somewhere deep in his heart he believed that they could be a worthy challenge. It was often said that the only entities that could humble a dragon were other dragons or gods, but he wondered exactly how much truth there could be to that statement if even fellow dragons would go down like toilet paper.


    ¡°Father, allow me to take on the rest. These idiots are not worth your time,¡± Irina flew in front and asked of him.


    ¡°If that is what you want, daughter, so be it,¡± his desire to continue this war had been extinguished. In any case, this was probably for the best as he would not be around forever and the next generation needed to learn what war was and what it meant to be a dragon.


    At that moment, a most bestial roar echoed and shook the heavens. The clouds were immediately parted as though they were showing reverence for this newly arrived figure. Amongst ascended dragon tribes there was always one known as the ¡®Champion¡¯. They embodied the quality of that Dragon¡¯s tribe and were often the strongest warrior. To Aurendra¡¯s golden dragons, he was both King and Champion. However, it was different with the red dragons as they separated their leader and warrior. The wisest dragon became the leader for the red dragons and the strongest became the Champion.


    ¡°Oh? It looks like I¡¯ll be having fun after all. Irina, I¡¯ll leave the other riff raff in your capable hands, I¡¯ll take on the big one,¡± he said as a large smile overcame his face.


    ¡°Leave it to me, father!¡± Irina responded as she flew off in formation with her subordinates towards the enemy.


    Aurendra flew down back towards the ground to prepare for his opponent. With a loud and stalwart shout that caused the earth to tremble, he welcomed his guest.

 Chapter 23//Playing War games

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 23//Playing War games


    Accompanied by the meditative tempo of the horse¡¯s hooves and the slow turning of wooden axels, Demon Lord Morialia¡¯s conquest was proceeding at a very¡­ ¡®leisurely¡¯ pace. ¡°Oww¡­ my butt¡­¡± she silently voiced her weeping complaint while softly massaging her behind. Under the command of her spiteful owner, the mission was to oppress¡­ ¡®politely induct¡¯ the gold dragons of the north into the ¡®New Demon Lord¡¯s Army¡¯, yet she somehow found herself hitching a lackadaisical ride towards the north. ¡°Damn, walking would¡¯ve been faster¡­ and more comfortable.¡±


    ¡°Even though I¡¯m the Demon Lord, why do I have to suffer something this torturous?!¡± she shouted.


    ¡°Eh? You all right, missy?¡± hearing her screams, the aged driver of the cart who had so kindly let her ride with him turned back to check.


    ¡°No, it¡¯s none of your concern,¡± she sighed. ¡°That damned master of mine, just wait and see! I¡¯ll use this newly established army of mine to teach him a lesson he won¡¯t forget! Yes¡­ Yes! That¡¯s right! It shall be the rebirth of the great Demon Lord! Muahaha¡­ hahahaahaa! Hah! Ow¡­ it hurts¡­¡±


    ¡°Right¡­ well, if there¡¯s no problem,¡± the driver shrugged, concluding that it was merely the squirms of a delusional child.


    ¡°Now then,¡± she said to herself as she took out a small black box from her pocket and tilted her head to one side. ¡°I still don¡¯t get what this is for¡­¡± It had been an item given to her by Mordred and supposedly it was to ¡®complete the overall image¡¯.


    ¡°So missy, you were going to the dragon country?¡± asked the elderly driver of the cart. ¡°I don''t know why such a young girl like yourself is going to this dangerous place but do be careful, you hear?¡±


    ¡°I will keep it in mind,¡± she replied as she scanned over the map she received. It was a domain entirely of large mountainous ranges of rock and dirt. ¡®I don¡¯t really want to go somewhere that dull,¡¯ she pulled a long face while groaning as though a child being forcefully brought to Sunday school. She knew dragons were a tough crowd that could thrive almost anywhere, but why did they always choose such boring locales? She personally preferred a more¡­ opulent landscape; despite everything, she was still a young girl¡­ at heart anyway.


    *


    *


    *


    - Three days earlier ¨C


    ¡°Hah?! Why do I have to walk all the way there?!¡± as Morialia was all set for her merry conquest and subjugation, her master stopped her one last time to issue a small addendum. That was, he wanted her to walk for most of the journey.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to walk for the entire journey, but it will be a pain if you¡¯re rushing through with your powers and caught anyone¡¯s attention. I honestly don¡¯t trust that you have enough mental capacity to behave and keep yourself out of sight. At the very least, when you¡¯re near human settlements use a carriage or walk.¡±


    ¡°But, but wouldn¡¯t it be suspicious anyway if they saw a young, beautiful, charming, pretty and amazing little girl walking around by herself? If it¡¯s going to be like that then who cares if one or two people see me?!¡±


    For some reason her master scoffed condescendingly at the way she described herself. ¡°Well, it might be, but it¡¯s infinitely worse for my future plans if someone caught you doing anything. Besides, it¡¯s only until the northern borders, so once you reach the edge of Drakenholdt territory, you¡¯re free to do whatever you want.¡±


    ¡°But¡­ but¡­! Mmmmmmhhh!! Fine, if it¡¯s like that then I guess it can¡¯t be helped.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s also the matter of these ¡®annoying flies¡¯ that are buzzing around me at all times,¡± she had noticed it as well, but ever since that woman- Petra- returned to the capital there had been suspicious men lurking around thinking they¡¯re well-hidden. ¡°I can¡¯t say it was unexpected after letting that woman go, but this First Prince works especially fast. I¡¯m quite impressed really. For this reason, my hands are currently tied, so I want you to take your time with this conquest.¡±


    ¡°Why can¡¯t you just kill them? You¡¯re the sort of guy who wouldn¡¯t hesitate to wipe out an entire village or two just for a slight advantage to your own position, right?¡±


    ¡°That would bring its own set of headaches; they should leave once they¡¯re satisfied anyway. Aside from the encroaching prospect of all-out-war with the neighbouring Empire, there¡¯s nothing too time critical in my schedule. So, just take your time playing with the dragons.¡±


    ¡°Exactly how long are you expecting me to take with these flying lizards?¡±


    ¡°It shouldn¡¯t take you more than a few days but stretch it out to about a month.¡±


    ¡°An entire month¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d estimate the travel time alone would take around three weeks. Why not take this opportunity to go sightseeing around the countryside?¡±Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    ¡°Eh¡­ Well, whatever. I¡¯ll figure something out and take my time then.¡±


    ¡°Right, and before you go, take this,¡± her master tossed over a small black box made of stone. She inspected it but couldn¡¯t really understand what it was.


    ¡°And this is¡­?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a chair.¡±


    ¡°Huh? A¡­ a chair? Why are you giving me a chair?¡± Thinking back on it, in their previous world humans were strangely obsessed over chairs. There were all sorts of chairs from quaint wooden ones to ornate thrones. She never really understood their fascination over them, and even now it was a kind of mystery to not just her but all the demons. Was there some secret meaning to this chair?


    Her master, realizing her confusion, let out an amused chuckle. ¡°it¡¯s a special kind of chair to complete the overall image. All great and powerful tyrants started with their chairs.¡±


    She seriously didn¡¯t understand what that was supposed to mean. Sure, she had her own throne at the Demon Lord¡¯s castle, but it wasn¡¯t something they had put such emphasis on. ¡°Well, don¡¯t think too deeply into it. I think you¡¯ll enjoy it anyway. All you need to do is smash that box and the chair will automatically be summoned.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­ okay then, I¡¯ll be off.¡±


    *


    *


    *


    Suffice it to say, the champion of the red dragons was a young one. His fresh scales reflected the light of the sun with a brilliant sanguine lustre, and there was nary a scar upon his well-trained body. For the dragons who loved to exert their dominance over others through sheer physical stature, there was no doubt this one would be a serious contender. In his draconic form he dwarfed over all the others; they were like toys before a brazen child.


    He breathed a fiery ferociousness and his eyes reflected a single-minded murderous focus. He stared down the Golden Dragon King- Aurendra Sinclair- who had returned to his more humanoid form equipped with an ornate golden shield and golden sword. The dragon king knew, that this would be a simple battle, not even a battle really.


    ¡®Too tense, too green,¡¯ Aurendra gauged and let out a long, disappointed sigh while shaking his head. It was just typical of the younger generations to believe physical size trumped everything in battle. Perhaps such na?ve ideas may work against humans or other smaller races, but against fellow dragons was such a fatal misconception. ¡®Do they understand nothing?¡¯ the question pondering in his mind was directed at both the enemy and his own forces that seemed to dread the red dragon champion¡¯s grandiose arrival.


    ¡°Why do you contest me in that form?¡± asked the mighty red dragon. His voice alone echoed powerfully through the valleys and mountains. The fighting between the gold dragons and the red dragons came to a halt as they both retreated behind their respective lines. This was more a customary gesture between dragons; they would let their champions fight one on one if ever they came across each other.


    ¡°That¡¯s because you¡¯re a whelp,¡± the dragon king replied sarcastically. ¡°Perhaps it is a little early for you to be playing war games, no?¡± he asked. He could see it in the way the red dragon champion moved, and how easily he had been taunted by that insult. There was no question as to whether he was a champion or not, but if it was true then he was definitely a very recent addition to the rank.


    ¡®The wisest becomes their king, yet I sense no wisdom in this reckless skirmish. Or is there something else they¡¯re after?¡¯ Aurendra wondered to himself. The red dragons should¡¯ve been more structured and organized compared to the golden dragon that had a more liberal view of the world. A wise king¡­ no, even a normal person would¡¯ve seen that this red dragon champion was no match for Aurendra. However, that wasn¡¯t the only thing; the red dragons¡¯ forces were horribly organized and would¡¯ve been much more apt described as a meandering horde.


    ¡°Do not mock me, king of gold,¡± replied the red dragon¡¯s champion. He growled as he spat a volley of excessively hot, liquid flames. Each type of dragon had a ¡®home element¡¯; for the red dragons it was fire, and for the gold dragons it was lightning. That said, they weren¡¯t exactly stuck with those attributes, merely more effective at using them. The red dragons¡¯ flame was known to cause a burn that would never cease if hit by them.


    Of course, the dragon king had no trouble dealing with this level of attack. With a gigantic swing of his golden shield, like a fan, he blew away the flames as though they were tissue paper.


    ¡°What is your name?¡± asked Aurendra.


    ¡°Names?¡± asked the red champion as he loomed over with his gargantuan size. ¡°Traitors need not know such things!¡± he shouted while slamming down with his claws. The ground shook as though they were terrified, and clouds of dust fumed in the air. Yet, like Atlas shouldering the celestial heavens, the small figure of the dragon king showed no signs of panic as he casually supported the weight of the red champion with his shield.


    ¡°Traitor? Is that why you red dragons attacked? Exactly what have we betrayed?¡±


    ¡°For the king of the gold dragons to not even understand his own sins,¡± the red champion looked back at him as though he almost pitied them.


    ¡°Child, I need no pity from you. Only answers.¡±


    Perhaps after that initial blocking of his attacks, the red champion instinctively understood that he was no match. He obediently replied and declared the sins of the golden dragons. ¡°We have heard the voices of god,¡± he suddenly blurted. ¡°They have told us of your grave sins. That in order to preserve your own pathetic lives, you have sold this world and delivered it to the hands of the invaders!¡±


    ¡°The voices of god?¡± Aurendra was mighty confused. Dragons were a notoriously proud race, one might even say arrogant. They certainly weren¡¯t known to lower their heads to anyone- not even gods. So then, why were these red dragons suddenly talking about gods as if they were subordinate to one? ¡°What are you talking about? And just who are these invaders?¡±


    ¡°Do not lie! We know you¡¯ve allied yourself with them!¡± the red champion roared.


    ¡°Explain, you nitwit. Do you really have a brain under there? Exactly where do you see these ¡®invaders¡¯?¡±


    The red champion looked around. Indeed, there were only red and gold dragons. ¡°The invaders¡­ they come to this world and corrupt it with their presence,¡± he explained in a low scowl. ¡°I have been told! They have been here before! With Dreamland! With the unruly imperial corporations! With the war cults! Even the elven nation of Ygdra! They have come before and will come again! They will destroy this world!¡±


    The red champion¡¯s mental state clearly started to deteriorate. None of what he was saying made sense anymore and was merely repeating that something will come to destroy this world. It was unbecoming for a noble dragon to reduce themselves to such an unstable degree. The only act of mercy was to put them out of their misery.


    Aurendra tightened the grip around his word and took a deep breath. ¡°These are no longer dragons, merely minions of something else¡­¡±

 Chapter 24//Assault on Drakenholdt (1)

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 24//Assault on Drakenholdt (1)


    While Morialia was away on a ¡®business trip¡¯, Mordred had stayed back at the village to work on the next step of his project regarding the dragons¡¯ subjugation. The ¡®plan¡¯ had been formulated mostly with the information gained from Petra, along with a little bit of creativity and malice. Disregarding all the villagers¡¯ concerns, he had secluded himself down in the basement for the past few days concocting a strange black potion. All-the-while, Morgana who had also never seen the light of day since her creation, assisted him in various aspects.


    She stared like a curious animal as he mixed various formulas and mysterious liquids. At this point, her personality was still in the midst of developing and thus possessed an air of innocence and curiosity about her. All her ideas, her morals and motivations, she had learned from her creator, and even now she continued to acquire further knowledge by watching from the side-lines. Still, for him it was an amusing sight- she was almost infantile compared to her graceful and mature appearance. Her long platinum hair swayed side to side as she moved her head trying to take a closer look at what he was doing. The sound of her soft breathing stood out in this silent and sterile room. Her cherry pink lips licking themselves in intervals as they dried. He could smell the soft, floral scented bath soap off her body whenever she moved around. ¡®Clink¡¯, ¡®clink¡¯, ¡®clink¡¯, echoed the glass when she inquisitively tapped on the test tubes with her skeletal right arm.


    While it may have been a queer choice at the time, there was a definite reason why he purposefully created that skeletal arm, though it would still pose a problem if others saw it. ¡®I should prepare a glove or a cover,¡¯ he internally pondered.


    ¡°Are you interested?¡± he asked while not missing a beat with his precise measurements. It was a rather interesting topic to ponder, that was Morgana¡¯s personality and interests. Not only was there never a system of creating an individual person in the game, but even if there were, it would¡¯ve been based on a scripted artificial intelligence, so it would never truly be a person. However, this ¡®Morgana¡¯ was much more than that; despite having been created from aspects of the game, she was a real person with her own wants and desires, though Mordred¡¯s personality was used as a base. That said, she was not a clone either; the moment she viewed and experienced the world from a different angle she was her own person. Perhaps in future her ideas and motivations would diverge from his.


    The question was now: ¡®did Mordred trust his own base personality enough to gamble that Morgana would never turn on him¡¯? When is a ¡®person¡¯ truly born? Are they a person the moment they come out of the womb? Or do they become a person after they¡¯ve experienced the world for themselves and have come to their own conclusions of it? Was it ¡®nature¡¯ or ¡®nurture¡¯ that made a person? Certainly, experiences will affect an individual¡¯s personality and view of the world, however the gamble was on to what degree that change will affect Morgana. Of course, Mordred was vastly more powerful than she was and would likely ever be; he could destroy her at any moment. Yet, he never believed himself to be infallible; if ever she did turn her fangs upon him it was a real personality that she could overcome their differences through ingenuity. It was often said, after all, that the weak must use their creativity if they want to survive. By the same merit, the powerful are usually stagnant by the very nature of their existence.


    Indeed, the entity known as ¡®Morgana¡¯ was a large gamble he was willing to take. As cautious as he wanted to be, he also understood that nothing could be gained if chances are not taken. Though, even then he still had several contingencies just in case.


    ¡°What are you trying to make?¡± she asked while tilting her head to one side. Her large, rounded azure eyes sparkled with excitement. Was it merely her infantile nature that made her so receptive to new knowledge? Or was Mordred also that kind of person deep down inside. In a very real way, this current Morgana was like a mirror into his own psyche; a completely untainted Mordred.


    His hands stopped as he wondered how he should answer. The intended purpose of this potion was to conjure a narrative of suffering. ¡°The dragons are an interesting race,¡± he started to explain. ¡°There are three difference faces to the entities known as ¡®Dragons¡¯. First there is the ¡®Feral Dragons¡¯, these are powerful, but ultimately no different to monsters. By their very existence they are nothing more than mindless beasts that move on instinct. To put it simply, they are to real dragons what monkeys or gorillas are to humans. Then there are the ¡®Draconians¡¯. They are mostly humanoid in appearance, but they are vastly stronger than the average human. Aside from their superior strength, agility and magic however, they also possess a unique potential.¡±


    ¡°Unique¡­ potential?¡± she parroted. Her eyes gleaming with excitement as though she were a small child being told a bedtime story.


    ¡°They have the potential to become the third type of dragon: the ¡®Ascended Dragon¡¯. A powerful entity with the strengths of a feral dragon and the intelligence of a human. Upon reaching this point the Draconians are able to freely shift between their humanoid and dragon forms. However, the requirements to reaching this point is extremely difficult and, in most cases, Draconians never unlock their ability to become an Ascended Dragon for their entire lives. If I had to give a statistical estimate, only about 0.005% of the entire Draconian population ever become Ascended.¡±


    ¡°0.1%?¡± Morgana considered the statistic for a moment. ¡°Isn¡¯t that¡­ too little?¡±


    ¡°Hardly. The current population of Drakenholdt is estimated to be around one-hundred-thousand, meaning about five-hundred of those are Ascended Dragons. Each of them possesses enough power to wipe out entire cities. In my opinion there are too many.¡± The problem didn¡¯t stop there however, because Drakenholdt wasn¡¯t the only tribe of dragons in existence, and more were known to exist all around the world. Considering this, it was a miracle that humans and other weaker species were even able to survive for this long. For their safety, and his benefit, he wondered if it would¡¯ve been easier on him to just wipe out the Ascended Dragons en masse. ¡°No, there¡¯d still be other Draconians with potential to become Ascended, and I don¡¯t want to wipe them all out.¡± He shook his head and continued to work on his potion. ¡°In any case, this fact is a vital piece of the puzzle,¡± he told her while smirking maliciously.


    ¡°Do you mean because most of their military strength is dependant on those 500 Ascended Dragons?¡±


    ¡°There is that, but more importantly, it¡¯s a matter of governmental structure.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°In the case of human governments, the figurehead can easily be replaced by the next person down, and you can keep going down without noticing a significant impact on the overall society. However, it¡¯s different for the Dragons. Their leadership is based off strength- basically the strongest becomes the king- therefore there is an extremely limited pool of qualified potential leaders. Once the top leaders are removed then their entire society is crippled, much like a headless chicken.¡± Mordred then went silent for a few seconds before continuing, ¡°though, if it could be helped, I¡¯d rather preserve the leadership since they¡¯re almost the most powerful, therefore the most useful.¡±


    ¡°Is that what this potion is for?¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Mordred nodded as he lifted the vial containing the mysterious black liquid up to the light source. ¡°The purpose of this potion is to facilitate the new era of dragons,¡± he told her with a sinister grin. ¡°Remember, Morgana, to effectively conquer an enemy you should divide them up first.¡±Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    *


    *


    *


    - Three Weeks Later -


    ¡®Drakenholdt¡¯ was both the name of the capital city as well as the country in which said city was based in. The reason for this was mainly due to the dragons¡¯ low population, and therefore most of its inhabitants took residence within the city. The uninhabited lands could also be determined as ¡®land that¡¯s technically part of the city but not yet developed¡¯¡­ or something to that effect. The city of Drakenholdt itself had been built directly into a mountain range; several mountains had been hollowed out and massive tower-like structures served as miniature arcologies to house most of the population.


    Erected around the mountainous city were numerous guard outposts that served as forward stations and defensive borders against hostile threats and invasions. While these outposts did have enough strength to repel most low-level invasion attempts from other, weaker species, their main operation was to scout for incoming armies and to report back to the city¡¯s upper echelon. To the dragons these were mostly watchtowers, but to other races they were akin to entire fortresses.


    Two Draconian guardsmen patrolled around the outer edges of the fortress outpost¡¯s perimeter, though, most of the time they had merely been idling away while constantly yawning at the lack of anything. To their credit, aside from other dragons and fools, there hadn¡¯t been anyone insane enough to directly challenge the mighty nation of dragons. Several weeks had already passed since the incident with the red dragons and their mysterious motives for attacking them, but due in no small part to the Golden Dragon King, that matter had already been settled. In fact, their invasion was so abrupt and unexpected that many of the soldiers hadn¡¯t even heard of the attack until after the fact- they had not expected an aerial invasion which made their scouting outposts redundant.


    For this reason, the unknown motives of the red dragons became a wild topic amongst them and many theories were thrown out with the gossip.


    ¡°So, you hear about the incident with the red dragons a few weeks back?¡± asked one guardsman to another who had been on patrol with him. After making their usual rounds they found a secluded area on the wall that could serve as a nice spot for respite while maintaining a clear line of sight towards the outer areas for potential hostile movement.


    ¡°Yeah, heard they all went insane and started yammering on about how they were the apostles of god or something.¡±


    ¡°I know right? It freaks me out,¡± the guardsman joked as he chuckled sarcastically. ¡°I¡¯m getting the shivers.¡±


    ¡°Tell me about it.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t they also say something about us betraying the world? Wonder what that was about.¡±


    ¡°Hell if I know,¡± the guardsman then stopped for a few seconds to dig something out of his memories. ¡°No, wait¡­ actually, I think I¡¯ve heard of a similar occurrence happening somewhere else.¡±


    ¡°Really?! Where at?¡±


    ¡°I would also like to know,¡± suddenly the voice of a haughty and rugged woman interjected. The two men immediately stood up and offered a dragon¡¯s salute by pounding their chests. Despite being a woman, she was physically bulkier than they were with much heavier and pronounced muscles all throughout her body. One might even liken her more to an ogre than a dragon, but the two backwards curved horns from the top of her head revealed her draconic lineage. Bright, golden hair and a sharp face, she was adorned in thick steel armour, and her footsteps clanged across the floor powerfully as she approached them.


    ¡°C- commander Shuri!¡± one of the guardsmen shouted in surprise. ¡°W- we weren¡¯t slacking off or gossiping or anything¡­ ahahahhah¡­ah¡­ Nope!¡± he told her as sweat profusely dripped down the side of his face like a waterfall.


    ¡°Eh, just relax,¡± she dismissed their worries as she collapsed onto one of the spare chairs. ¡°So? What¡¯s this about a similar incident happening somewhere else?¡±


    ¡°Right, about that¡­ it was just a rumour from a few years back, so I can¡¯t be sure if it¡¯s really related to any of this.¡±


    ¡°About that, it was a story from a few hundred years back, so I can¡¯t be sure if it really has any relevance to the red dragons¡¯ invasion.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter, tell me about it.¡±


    ¡°Then, Commander, have you heard of the Royland Corporation?¡±


    ¡°Hmm, it does¡­ sound familiar,¡± she said as she scratched her head while making a puzzled expression. ¡°But refresh my memory.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a vast imperial corporation that blurs the line between market and country. They¡¯re an enormous corporate entity that has several nations under its rule. Known as the ¡®Free States of the Xedian Alliance¡¯- or ¡®Alliance¡¯ for short- they¡¯re what you get when you let merchants run everything from the military to the government. All races are accepted, and while that seems harmonious on the surface, it really just means more prey for the Royland Corporation that controls everything,¡± explained the guardsman. ¡°Within the Alliance, money is God.¡±


    ¡°Okay, but how does that relate to the red dragons¡¯ invasion?¡±


    ¡°Apparently, it had to do with the founder of the Royland Corporation. He¡¯s an individual known as ¡®Royland Blume¡¯, and people have very strong opinions about him- most of which aren¡¯t positive. After the creation of the Alliance millions were screwed over by his corporate policies and how those have affected the governance of the countries within the Alliance. There were numerous documented assassination attempts, but the most notable incident was about one that managed to get within an inch of his life. The assailant at t he time was recorded saying something about him being an apostle of god and how the Royland Corporation was an affront that needed to be removed.¡±


    ¡°That does seem similar to what the red dragons were talking about, but was it only a single person that time?¡±


    ¡°If the records of a few hundred years ago are to be believed, then yes.¡±


    ¡°So, whatever happened to this ¡®Royland Blume¡¯?¡± asked the commander.


    ¡°After that failed assassination attempt by the supposed apostle, he went into hiding. I mean, that¡¯s what the records have stated, but Royland was an extremely powerful individual. Even though he was a human, he had power comparable to even Lord Aurendra.¡±


    ¡°As powerful as him? Surely that¡¯s an exaggeration; they probably wanted to pretty up their founder with that kind of absurdity.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s probably true¡­¡± replied the guardsman, though he seemed to be unconvinced of it.


    ¡°Anyway, it¡¯s a moot point now. You said it was a few hundred years ago, right? And that he was human? So, there¡¯s no way he could still be alive after all this time. Or were there records of him obtaining immortality?¡±


    The guardsman shook his head, ¡°no, there weren¡¯t anything stated of that nature. If we¡¯re to believe that some mysterious and God-like entity really did influence the red dragons, and the same being was present all those hundreds of years ago, then it¡¯s likely Royland lost his life while fighting them off. He struggled against one assassin, imagine if stronger beings like dragons were also added to that mix.¡±


    ¡°Seems likely,¡± Commander Shuri nodded. ¡°Well, whatever. Even if they¡¯re related incidents, we can¡¯t really dig up a case that happened several hundred years ago. You two should also stop slacking and get back to work.¡±


    ¡°Y- yes ma¡¯am!¡± the two guardsmen stood up and saluted as Shuri was about to leave. ¡°Hmm?¡± then suddenly, one of them peered over the outpost¡¯s wall and noticed a strange black miasma. ¡°Hey, what¡¯s that?¡± he asked his partner.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ a black mist?¡±


    They stared at it for a moment, confused as to what exactly it was, but soon enough the answer walked out into the open. A ghastly black skeleton adorned in dark armour as if mocking a knight. It staggered towards the outpost at a snail¡¯s pace, but as soon as it noticed the two guardsmen looking down upon it from up on the wall, the black skeleton let out a horrifying screech.


    ¡°Gyyiiaaahhhhhgggghhh!¡± the walls shook from the mere pressure of the horrendous sound. It stared back at them with its hollow sockets, and a dim green glow glimmering maliciously from behind.


    ¡°Ugh, what the hell?! An undead!¡± one guardsman cried as he drew his sword and jumped down to engage the skeleton. He thrust his sword towards it in the most straightforward and obvious manner, however this was excusable since undeads weren¡¯t known to have the highest intelligence. At most they¡¯re meant to serve as fodder, swarming and overrunning the opponent. His sword struck down dead centre at the undead¡¯s skull, however, he was caught off guard when it suddenly revealed agile movement and dodged the attack and even countered with a swift knee to the guardsman¡¯s stomach. ¡°Argh!¡± winded, the guardsman fell to his knees.


    ¡°Hey, watch out!¡± shouted the other guardsman.


    There was no mercy. The black skeleton took the opportunity and smashed the guardsman¡¯s head with the bottom of its metallic greaves as if stepping on an ant. Draconian physiology was typically characterized by its sturdiness, yet this simple skeleton managed to tear through his head with a single stomp. Without even cleaning off the grim and grey matter off the soles of its boot, it turned its attention towards the others.


    This incident would later be known as the start of a genocide known as the ¡®Assault on Drakenholdt¡¯.

 Introduction to Power Scaling!!

    Introduction to Power Scaling!!


    Welcome to HiDrangeA¡¯s guide to Power Scaling in Polymath Redux! The overall system is numerically assessed in terms of ¡®difficulty¡¯ to fight rather than ¡®direct power¡¯. Meaning this takes into consideration the character¡¯s intelligence, strategic ingenuity, tactical adaptiveness and destructive potential. Rating will be assessed from 1 ~ 20, with 1 being the strength and intelligence of an average adult, and 20 being Mordred¡­ just Mordred.


    Notable Cast:


    Starting with the Main Character, Mordred¡¯s rating is 20.


    Demon Lord(Full power) Morialia¡¯s rating is 17.


    Morialia in her little girl(suppressed) form is around 12 ~ 13. (Closer to 12)


    Morgana on her own without support from her arsenal is around 2 ~ 3. (Closer to 2)


    Morgana with the support of her arsenal is around 11 ~ 12. (Closer to 12)


    Petra with her Ego Weapons is around 4 ~ 5. (Closer to 4)


    First Prince Bradley Avon Leonhardt of Xagontetia is around 4 ~ 5. (Closer to 5)


    First Princess Sherry Avon Leonhardt of Xagontetia is around 6 ~ 7. (Closer to 7)


    First Lieutenant Marianne¡¯s rating is 3.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Captain August¡¯s rating is 2 ~ 3. (Closer to 3)


    Graham¡¯s rating is 1 ~ 2. (Closer to 2)


    Golden Dragon King, Aurendra Sinclair¡¯s rating is 8 ~ 9. (Closer to 9)


    Dragon Princess Irina¡¯s rating is 7.


    Red Dragon Champion¡¯s rating is 8.


    Commander Shuri¡¯s rating is at 6.


    Ambassador Nicholai Illyich¡¯s rating is at 3.


    War Goddess Eris¡¯s rating is around ??? ~ ???


    Royland Blume¡¯s rating is around ??? ~ ???


    Dreamland¡¯s Dead Girl¡¯s rating is around ??? ~ ???


    Ygdra¡¯s Founder¡¯s rating is around ??? ~ ???


    Miscellaneous:


    The rating for the average knight in the Xagontetian Military is 2.


    The rating for the average mage in the Xagontetian Military is 2 ~ 3. (Closer to 2)


    The rating for the average knight in the Baliazoural Empire is 2.


    The rating for the average mage in the Baliazoural Empire is 2 ~ 3. (Closer to 3)


    The rating for the average soldier in Drakenholdt is 5.


    The rating for the average soldier in Ygdra(Elf Country) is 3.


    The rating for Morialia¡¯s Black Skeleton is 7.


    The rating for an average puppet summoned by Mordred is around 11 ~ 12. (Closer to 12)


    The rating for an average undead summoned by Mordred is around 11 ~ 12. (Closer to 12)


    The rating for the Hundred Eyed Devourer is around 4 ~ 5. (Closer to 5)


    The rating for the Awakened Hundred Eyed Devourer is 5 ~ 6. (Closer to 6)


    The rating for the Crimson Dragon God is around 17 ~ 18. (Closer to 18)

 Chapter 25//Assault on Drakenholdt (2)

    Polymath redux


    Chapter 25//Assault on Drakenholdt (2)


    If death itself could take physical form, there was little doubt this would be it. Its haunting visage could unnerve even the most hardened of veterans, and those lifeless, hollow eye sockets glaring back at Shuri sent a cold shiver down her spine. Despite lacking facial muscles to properly express its emotions, she could feel how it was trying to taunt her: ¡®look at what I did to you friend¡¯, it seemed to suggest as it stepped on the body of the deceased draconian guardsman as though he were a footstool.


    ¡°You, go call for backup,¡± Shuri ordered the remaining guardsman. Backup was her main goal, but she also understood that this monstrosity was far beyond what he could handle; she wasn¡¯t so sure she could take it on either. He glanced back at her in protest but quelled his concern for her safety as he knew what took priority. After a solemn and mournful look at the body of his friend he turned his back and quickly bowed out of the scene.


    Shuri sighed as she drew her bastard sword from her waist and tightly gripped around the handle with both hands. This sword was her family¡¯s heirloom, a special sword crafted from an extremely rare and durable metal; its edge was second to none and was capable of cutting almost anything. She breathed out a long sigh as she stared directly into the hollow sockets of the monster. An ominous emerald ember flickered within its skull, and once more she felt the tension of the situation consume her wits; it had managed to make her feel like a rookie all over again. Doubt swirled within her: could she win? If not, how long could she stall for until reinforcements came?


    Most dragons had a form of ranged attack- and no doubt it would¡¯ve been very useful now- but Shuri wasn¡¯t that kind of fighter. She was more used to swords techniques and fighting in melee distance. That¡¯s how she was trained from the start and that¡¯s how she would fight in the future as well. Perhaps it was foolish, but she leapt down from the wall to properly accept the challenge of the black skeleton. Undeads usually only had minimal intelligence, but it was obvious to any casual observer that this skeleton was different. It looked back at her as though a child looking at a new toy.


    Her opponent had no weapons; only the thick shell of metal armour, but still she dared not to underestimate it. She began to circle around it as it stood still for her to make the first move. It was a little annoying that that deceased draconian guardsman couldn¡¯t even last long enough to identify the skill level of the enemy. He died so quickly that she was at a loss on exactly how proficient this thing was at combat. She knew it was fast and strong, but that wasn¡¯t much to go off of.


    She stepped forward cautiously and once she was confident, she rushed towards it, only to throw a curveball at the last second and strafed to the left in order to strike from a different angle. Her sword cut throw the air magnificently and slashed at the monster, but her eyes widened when it made actual contact. With an audible clink, the sword bounced off the hardened metal armour as though she were hitting a steel wall with a wooden stick.


    ¡°What?!¡± she cried out in astonishment as the sword was shunted. What frustrated her more than the failure of her sword to cut the enemy was the fact that the skeleton almost seemed like it let her get that attack in just to spite her and show the difference in equipment. She then twisted her body and threw a kick with her metallic greaves; if a slash wouldn¡¯t work, then perhaps blunt-force trauma might, but it reacted just as quickly and dodged her kick. She flipped the sword and grasped the blade side with both hands and instead started to use it as a blunt weapon instead. It was often a tactic used by humans who went up against heavily armoured foes, though she never thought she¡¯d be emulating them. Her sword was magically enchanted and should¡¯ve cut anything, but it didn¡¯t.


    Repositioning herself, she threw the first swing of her sword-cum-mace. The skeleton seemed to suddenly be on alert and actively attempted to dodge. It wasn¡¯t surprising- blunt force damage was more effective than slash attacks in most cases, though she never thought she would be using the tactics of humans herself. The black skeleton moved quickly, but she was no slouch either. The first swing hit, and like a great gong a mighty ringing sensation writhed up her arms. ¡®Heavy,¡¯ she thought to herself. She could feel the vibrations in her arms, and it seemed like it would shatter her bones. ¡®Was this what humans felt against greater foes?¡¯ she couldn¡¯t help but wonder. When she thought about it like that it was rather amazing that the humans could muster up the courage to face down their foes.


    The black skeleton was pushed back for the first time. It tumbled but didn¡¯t fall. Though it was unable to emote, she could somehow understand that it was frustrated by its body language. The way it grinded its teeth and tensed its non-existent muscles. Disregarding its will, she lunged forward for another strike. It defended well by stopping her arms, but then she simply contorted her body to deliver a swift kick to its abdomen. It was once more forced to retreat ground. ¡®I can do this,¡¯ she let out a sigh of relief as finally a sliver of hope was dangled before her.


    Unfortunately, hope can also be used as bait. Just as she was becoming accustomed to battling against this ungodly creature, it managed to push past her defences with lightning speed. It was honestly quite the sight to see an undead moving about so frighteningly fast. Like two equally matched masters of combat, they were exchanged hits, but Shuri soon came to the realization that she would go down first before she could manage to put substantial damage on this thing. Deciding she needed to devise a different avenue for attack she disengaged by dashing backwards.


    However, the black skeleton anticipated her movements and rushed forward as she moved back and maintained the same intimate distance as before. Being caught off guard by its nimble retaliation there was little she could do. It leaned closer and jabbed her straight to her gut and sent her flying even further back. Yet, that was not the end of its counter as it continued it up with a strange magical attack. Ominous black mana gathered in its hand and a few seconds later a piercing beam of darkness shot out at breakneck speed. Being unprepared for a magic attack from an undead she tried to physically block it, but the attack continued through her paltry attempt and pierced through her left hand and left shoulder like a hot knife through butter.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    ¡°Argh¡­!¡± she fell to her knees and gripped her shoulder and clenched her hand to slow the bleeding. Having felt that attack she realized what it was; it was something she had experienced long ago in her past. It was a unique magic exclusive to the most adept mages who had simultaneously mastered sword fighting techniques along with necromantic magic: ¡®Sword of Darkness¡¯, however this one was on a completely different level than the ones she had remembered. ¡°Kuh¡­ how could this be?¡±


    She stood up and held her sword in her right hand. The stinging in her left hand and shoulder was unbearable and seemed like it would drive her insane if left unchecked for even a few more minutes. She glanced at her wound and winced. She already knew it, but her wounds weren¡¯t healing; draconians were said to have ungodly regenerative powers that could heal all minor injuries within just a few seconds, but that attack hindered this ability. It was a skill that could also classify as a ¡®curse¡¯ that prevented healing until it was lifted. The method to lifting the curse wasn¡¯t difficult, but there was no such time on the battlefield to go looking for priests and medics. ¡°Tch,¡± she clicked her tongue and started to move around again. ¡®How long has it been?¡¯ she wondered. There was no way she could take this thing out; it was to her what she would¡¯ve been to humans.


    The skeleton prepared more of that sinister black mass of mana in its hands. She carefully studied its movements and, at the exact moment it shot out another impossibly quick beam, she pre-emptively evaded it before it left its hands. She wasn¡¯t going to react to it anymore, she needed to predict it. The black beam flew out and devastated trees in a long, linear fashion, but she made it out unscathed. If there was a weakness to the Sword of Darkness, it would be that it was a predictable move with it only being a straight shot. There was also the fact that it would at least need a few more seconds to use it again and using that fact she slashed the ground before her with a great hurricane-like swing to kick up a bunch of dirt into the air to form a smokescreen. She moved forward soundlessly through the dust and aimed precisely for its neck.


    Unfortunately, at the last second it managed to move its hand over and catch the blade between its fingers. ¡®Is this thing for real?¡¯ she muttered under her breath as she tried to pull back. She knew it was agile but thought its speed could be hindered with the smokescreen. Perhaps there was still a bit of pride in her as a dragon that prevented her from taking on an undead too seriously. As she tried to move back, she was suddenly unable to as the black skeleton grasped onto the blade tightly and refused to let go. It conversely tugged at the sword and pulled her closer, at the same time it touched her stomach with its free hand fired another Sword of Darkness, this time straight into her body. Several of her internal organs were ruptured, and the worst of it all was still the fact that this attack prevented healing effects. From this moment onwards, she had to fight knowing she was on borrowed time. It was a race really. Would she die from blood-loss or from this losing to this skeleton?


    ¡°Urrk¡­¡± she spat out the contents of yesterday¡¯s dinner. Dark rings appeared beneath her eyes and she was becoming quickly short of breath. She swiftly gathered magic in her free hand and delivered a punch that should¡¯ve been able to destroy walls to its face. Yet, the smug expression on the skeleton¡¯s face remained unchanged. It then did something strange. As if holding her in contempt for thinking she could ever defeat it, the black skeleton snatched the sword away from her and with just one hand snapped the blade in two right before her eyes. Her breathing stopped at the realization that¡­ she was going to die. Her struggling quickly became more desperate, and she tried to assault it with a barrage of ¡®strength enhanced¡¯ punches.


    The black skeleton either dodged or blocked her attacks and once it found an opporunity capitalized on it; it sent her flying away with a mighty pushing kick. As she collapsed onto the floor, she wondered what the hell was going on. Why was this black skeleton attacking? Or rather, it was obvious that it wasn¡¯t alone, there was definitely someone else who summoned this thing. Who was it?


    ¡°Commander!¡± suddenly voices roared from behind the skeleton, and when she turned to look, she saw a dozen of her draconian companions fully geared up and ready to take on the sinister black undead.


    ¡°You guys! Did you already inform the king?!¡± that was her first priority.


    ¡°Yes! Princess Irina is on her way now! We¡¯re to hold position until her arrival!¡±


    Those words were like music to her ears, but before she could even begin to feel relieved, something unspeakable happened. The black skeleton quickly changed its attention towards the new arrivals and shot out a Sword of Darkness. Like a great black laser, in a single slice it liberated the upper torso of the dozen draconian soldiers from the lower. All dead within seconds of their arrival.


    ¡°No!¡± she shouted, but they were all dead. ¡°What have you done?!¡± As she was asking that question a piercing sting crept up her chest. She cast down her gaze and saw a black line through her heart. She didn¡¯t even notice it casting the Sword of Darkness, but it caught her off guard and now she was dying. ¡°¡­ Why¡­¡± she asked as her vision dimmed.


    *


    *


    *


    ¡°Huh¡­¡± Morialia said to herself as she gazed into the distance while making a binocular gesture with her hands. Of course, there was no binoculars but obviously it worked because she was the Demon Lord and could do such things as extended vision. ¡°Crap, I may have spawned too many black skeletons¡­¡± she commented a she looked down from her floating black throne.


    There, a legion of black skeletons readied themselves to march onto Drakenholdt on her command. Their numbers totalling around ten thousand and all stronger than the black skeleton scout she sent in to test the dragons¡¯ defences. Heck, she didn¡¯t even give that one a weapon thinking that it¡¯d be a waste since it¡¯d probably die soon enough.


    ¡°Err¡­ well, damn. I don¡¯t know what to do now.¡± She scratched her head. The black skeletons were strong, but they were only temporary units that would disappear in time since they were summoned through magic. It was possible to summon more permanent ones if she used corpses, but she didn¡¯t have the leisure to raid a graveyard on her way here. ¡°Eh, screw it, I¡¯ll just use the dragons¡¯ corpses to summon black skeletons.¡± The way she saw it, converting the dragons¡¯ corpses into black skeletons was a more effective anyway.


    ¡°All righty then!¡± Morialia stood up on her seat and shouted to her skeletal legion. ¡°Onwards, my minions! Victory to your adorable goddess!¡± she cheered.


    *


    *


    *


    ¡°Lord Aurendra!¡± a guardsman rushed into the great halls of the dragon king.


    The king stared out with a serious face into the distance. He already knew what the messenger who ran in was going to tell him; he could just smell the death and destruction from all the way here, but gave him permission to speak anyway, ¡°what is it?¡±


    ¡°The undead! They¡¯re attacking!¡±

 Chapter 26//Assault on Drakenholdt (3)

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 26//Assault on Drakenholdt (3)


    ¡®Irina Sinclair¡¯, she was the princess of the Golden Dragon tribe, and was said to be an exemplar of what it meant to be a golden dragon. Though she was the offspring of the result of the alliance with the Red Dragon tribe, her heart was firmly of Gold. Above all else, she believed wholeheartedly in the notion of Dragon supremacy. There was no race that was greater and stronger, so it was up to them to lead the world. Everything she did was for the sake of that mission; once she took the golden throne, she would thrust her plans into motion even at her father¡¯s protest.


    Receiving the message that an unusual undead walked into their territory and killed draconian soldiers, she flew out of the palace to engage. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she was livid. ¡®Killed by undead?!¡¯ she wanted to scream at the incompetent fools who let themselves be killed by a mere undead. It took her no more than ten minutes to reach the outer outpost where the incident was said to have taken place. There, she saw a mountain of draconian corpses along with one she immediately recognized.


    ¡°Shuri!¡± she shouted as she slammed onto the ground and rushed to her friend¡¯s body. She wanted to believe it was a lie. There was no way someone of Shuri¡¯s capabilities could¡¯ve been killed by the undead. She was one of her most talented subordinates! However, the moment she touched her cold, unmoving body she realized it was all real. ¡°How¡­?¡±


    While she was mourning the loss of her friend, her keen sense alerted her to an oncoming attack. She dodged just in time as a sinister black beam rushed past her and punctured a large hole in the outpost¡¯s wall. She quickly turned back to see the undead that was mentioned in the reports. A daunting black figure with hazy emerald flames behind its hollow sockets. Its armour was sturdier and of better quality than the ones issued to most draconian guards. Even then, it was a little too unreasonable to think this single undead took out so many draconians on its own. However, her eyes told no lies, and she had to swallow it as truth.


    It didn¡¯t wait for her to get a proper grasp of the situation and immediately attacked again. Another black beam shot out towards her, but she elegantly manoeuvred around and closed the distance between them. She quickly drew the sword from her waist without making a single sound whilst simultaneously enchanting the edge of her blade with an advanced tier ¡®blade sharpening¡¯ enchantment. She dodged a few more attacks from the black skeleton and when she found the opportunity, she cleanly decapitated its hideous skull from its shoulders.


    She took a glance at her sword. ¡°Hmm,¡± even after all that there was a small chip in her blade. However, she couldn¡¯t dwell on that issue anymore as she heard the cries of her fellow draconian soldiers in the distance. Sheathing her sword, she rushed towards the origin of the distress.


    *


    *


    *


    It was a roaring, thunderous march made in impossibly perfect unison. With every step the ground was made to submit and tremble in awe. Lines and lines- legions- of black skeletal soldiers stormed through the Drakenholdt front with very little difficulties. Unlike conventional armies the skeletons required no rest, only to march ever forwards onto the enemy as everything around them died from their influence. Trees were made deciduous and eventually petrified, centuries old boulders crumbled into sand and the very air became noxious.


    Drakenholdt was already known too many as a harsh climate, but these sun-bleached mountainsides were now stained in an inerasable black. ¡®Death¡¯ was too kind a word for what these skeletons did; everything was ¡®rotting¡¯.


    Commanding this vast army of the dead from the skies, upon an ornate black stone throne, was a little girl who looked onto them in puzzlement. There was something she wanted to say about these dark figures ominous glowing with an emerald flame. ¡°Hmm, wait, didn¡¯t he say something about not choosing green for their soul colouration?¡± It was a minor detail, but their summoners could determine the hue of the souls of the undead- provided the summoner was of an adequate level as it took more mana to set this configuration. Of course, there was no real benefit from doing this aside from an aesthetic one, and the default red wasn¡¯t bad either. Yet, Morialia chose green just to spite her master when he said not to do exactly that. ¡°I think it had to do with copyright? Whatever that is¡­ oh, and war hammers? Seriously, half the things that comes out of his mouth is so cryptic. Ah, I should¡¯ve gone with metal skeletons too, shouldn¡¯t I?¡±


    If there was one thing about leading an army, it was that they were, ¡°so slow!¡± Morialia complained as she collapsed onto her throne and let out a long sigh. ¡®How much longer until the fighting starts?¡¯ she wondered to herself. Sending a few individual skeletons forward took little time but to move an entire mass of black skeletons was a tedious task. It wasn¡¯t difficult, just long and boring. ¡°You know what? You guys just get there when you can, I¡¯ll go ahead,¡± she told her skeleton legion, though they weren¡¯t intelligent enough to identify that kind of sarcastic order.


    ¡°Though, I admit, he was totally right about the chair thing,¡± she giggled to herself as she laid back on her throne. It was an evil-looking, ornate black stone throne encrusted with many precious metals and jewellery- exactly her cup of tea. The chair itself possessed an auto-flight feature and she only needed add a small amount of mana and direction to propel it, but it was much easier and more comfortable than utilizing her own flight spells. ¡°All evil monarchs need a flying chair. Right, he said something to that effect too, didn¡¯t he? Something about a ¡®fridge¡¯? No, that wasn¡¯t it¡­ ¡®cooler¡¯? No¡­ that doesn¡¯t sound right either,¡± she dug her brain but couldn¡¯t come up with a suitable answer until she arrived at the front gates of the City of Drakenholdt.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°Halt!¡± someone called out. Looking down, there were several dozen armed soldiers preparing for war and even more were converging on their location. Morialia had little information on these ¡®draconians¡¯, safe for the fact that they¡¯d bleed the same as those humans they were so terribly fond of looking down on. It was rather amusing; from her distance in the air they looked just like humans, perhaps with extra parts like horns and whatnot, but still generally the same shape.


    ¡°Hmm,¡± she met the eyes of the supposed leader of this gathering force. He was well-built, tall and confidence with a nice, chiselled jawline. Yet, despite how many years must¡¯ve gone into crafting his body into the perfect soldier, these draconians were weak enough to be outdone by a single black skeleton scout. Even the weakest minions she had under her employ in her previous world could at least take out a dozen black skeletons before going down. Sudden doubts filled her head: even as cannon fodder, did she need them?


    ¡°Who are you?! You do not have permission to enter Drakenholdt!¡± he continued to shout, but she only observed them silently from the sky.


    ¡°Hey! Are you listening?! Come down here!¡± the guardsman yelled at her once more while gesturing his fletchers to take aim. ¡°I will give you until the count of ten. If you refuse to cooperate, I will be forced to take you down with force!¡±


    No response. Morialia merely continued to study them.


    ¡°One¡­ Two¡­¡± the guardsman started to count.


    ¡°Oh!¡± Morialia jumped up. ¡°It was Fr**za! Right, that¡¯s the one that used flying chairs!¡± she inexplicably spouted out gibberish and happily breathed out an epic sigh of relief as if a major burden had been lifted from her shoulders.


    The draconians, however, took this as an attempt on her part to fight back and immediately ordered to shoot her floating throne down. ¡°Take her down!¡± A volley of missile flew straight for her with deadly accuracy. Had it been a normal opponent they would¡¯ve been riddled with holes, but unfortunately for them, this was the Demon Lord. With an unconcerned look, Morialia waved her hand and summoned three great and aureate decorated mirrors that protected her from all angles the missiles were flying at her from. The Grandmaster tier Holy Magic: ¡®Heavenly Mirror¡¯. It was an unfair spell that absorbed all incoming projectiles and reflected them back to the attackers at 300% effectiveness. Those arrows flew into the mirror without resistance and disappeared for a brief moment.


    ¡°W- what?¡±


    ¡°What was that? What¡¯s she doing?¡± the guardsman asked around but knew better than to stand around with a blank expression. He ordered his soldiers around so the shield bearers would come to the front row and defend them from whatever was obviously going to come. It was as he expected, but he had underestimated the potency of what exactly would come. The arrows shot out of the mirror as though they were fired from a rifle and pierced through the thick shields and plated armours of the draconian soldiers, killing them almost instantly- if not badly wounding them. Hearts were pierced, heads were blown off and limbs were detached with great and visceral gore.


    The moans of wounded were ghastlier than those of the shambling dead.


    ¡°Hmm? Wait, what happened, I wasn¡¯t paying attention¡­ huh?!¡± a searing burst of white lightning zapped at her, tearing a small chunk off her black throne. These kinds of magical attacks were not technically classified as projectile attacks and therefore could not be absorbed by the mirror. Being caught off guard she had to rely on her innate magical defences. The result of the continuous series of lightning strikes was a bit of her front hair being charred off. ¡°What the hell man?!¡± she retorted angrily.


    ¡°M- Monster! Shoot! Shoot! Kill that monster!¡± the guardsman ordered his men. They were at least smart enough to switch from projectile missiles to magic attacks. A combined barrage of fire and lightning gathered at her location, however she erected a Master tier Holy Barrier in time to block all their efforts.


    When the draconians saw that none of their attacks were working, they ceased and gazed at her with awe. Morialia, on the other hand, had different ideas and crashed her black throne right atop of the draconian leader; like crushing an ant with a rock.


    Splat.


    With a gruesome splatter of blood and guts smeared across her black throne, she did as they initially asked and came down to their level. Onlookers immediately went pale seeing their commanding officer be taken out like a bug. This misfortune for the draconians did not stop there. Morialia motioned her hands and hundreds black orbs floated out from the ground and fixed themselves in the air: Grandmaster tier Necromancy, ¡®Black Needle¡¯. The black spheres morphed into tiny needle-like objects and, at the flick of a finger, blasted all over the soldiers like a shotgun blast.


    A rain of blood splashed all over. People were torn apart in the most gruesome way imaginable; skeletons exposed, head cracked open, organs flailing out in the open. And Morialia was enjoying every moment of it. A smile etched over her face as she took int a deep breath of the air smelling faintly of rusted metal. She snapped her fingers again, and this time the corpses contorted and moved erratically before forming into black skeleton soldiers. The survivors, or what was left of them, tried to crawl away but could only scream aloud when they noticed half their body was missing from the initial attack.


    She no longer cared about the dragons. They were far too weak to be of any use, and their corpses were better utilized as stronger, permanent black skeletons. Though, there was still a part of her that was reluctant to kill all of them. Perhaps she¡¯d only wipe out about 40% and have the remaining ones as servants.


    ¡°Well then, let the war games begin.¡±

 Chapter 27//Assault on Drakenholdt (4)

    Polymath Redux


    Chapter 27//Assault on Drakenholdt (4)


    Upon arrival after following the trail of distress screams was sudden total silence. As the Princess of Drakenholdt made it onto the scene the only things waiting for her were the shambling dead. The crackling of their bones, the forced moans as though they were in constant pain and the silent plea for the release of death.


    ¡°What in the¡­¡± Irina was shocked. Ordinarily, this shouldn¡¯t have been possible, but her eyes did not betray her with this unforgiveable sight. The forward outposts served as the first line of defence for Drakenholdt, and the guardsmen who were asked to fight off all threats were chosen from the best of the best. For her proud draconian race to succumb to the assault of a few undead was a disgrace to the name of all dragons. Yet, rummaging through the wreckage was just that. The first line had fallen, and black skeletons ran amok. Hundreds of black skeletons scattered about like disgusting insects crawling about the place.


    The princess bit down on her lower lip to contain her rage. She drew her sword from her waist and grasped her hand tightly onto the hilt. With the application of enchantment magic, her blade flared up with a deep, crimson glow and surrounded by a deadly aura of snapping lightning. ¡°You damned monsters¡­¡± she grinded her teeth.


    Turning their attention to the sudden spike of magical energy, the massive horde of black skeletons immediately turned to her. These black skeletons were a little different from the one she had fought, in that they were armed and armoured in a very familiar set of equipment. Indeed, looking at them there was a strange familiarity to them. Then it hit her like the striking of thunder. Looking around, the odd sensation was finally given an answer; it should¡¯ve been obvious from the start. Aside from the undead, there were no bodies. She swiftly turned back and stared into their hollow sockets.


    These black skeletons possessed horns very reminiscent of the draconians and wore armour that was supposed to have ben equipped by the outpost guardsmen. ¡°Tch!¡± she clicked her tongue as she swung her sword into their general direction to unleash a furious wave of magical flames.


    She couldn¡¯t forgive this travesty.


    Her fiery assault covered the large hard like blanket and in no time almost half of them had been reduced to charred dust. Their remains blown by the wind, her surroundings transformed into a morbid dark smog. Yet, the skeletons did not try to fight back or even fulfil their self-preservation instincts; almost as if they were begging her to kill them and alleviate them from the pain of living like this.


    She let out a deep breath and raised her sword for another strike. This was her strongest sword technique: the ¡®Flame of the Avenger¡¯. It was a malleable skill that could be used differently depending on how the user channelled their mana. It could be spread out as an area-wide attack or concentrated into a single point to deliver a similar effect to the ¡®Sword of Darkness¡¯ skill. Her sword shone brilliantly as the morning star to cleanse away the horror of these draconian-cum-undead. A wave of bright flames surged across to envelope the remaining undead like an impossibly hot tsunami.


    ¡°Now that just won¡¯t do,¡± suddenly came the voice of a small child. As she spoke the dragon princess¡¯ attack behaved strangely as the flames flew up instead of crashing down onto the undead. They soared up and gathered into a small point, making a glowing hot ball that rested comfortably on the palms of a child.


    The princess stared up. There, seated upon a blood-drenched black throne was a small child wearing skimpy clothes that bordered between lingerie and actual clothes. With lightless black hair and a single horn to the left of her forehead, she gazed down with a mischievous smirk. Those murderous crimson eyes sent a cold shiver down her back. ¡°I spent so much effort turning those people into black skeletons, so I¡¯d rather not lose them too quickly,¡± she told Irina with a sinister giggle. ¡°Unfortunately, since they¡¯ve only just turned into the undead, they still retain a little bit of their former will, which does make them a little inconvenient to control.¡±


    Irina grew furious haring those words. There, before her was the culprit that dared to invade the realm of the dragons. This child that was neither draconian nor human. What was she? It didn¡¯t matter, she would die all the same. The princess pointed the tip of her sword towards the small child and wordlessly slashed at the air, sending out a thin fiery shockwave. She had already assumed it wouldn¡¯t work, but the attack was very easily intercepted an invisible barrier surrounding the child. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    The girl pointed to herself, ¡°me?¡± and acted as though she were thinking to herself. She was not even going to dignify the princess with an actual name. However, contrary to that expectation she answered much more honestly, ¡°I¡¯m ¡®Morialia¡¯ the 99<sup>th</sup> Demon Lord of Hellgana! You may bow before my greatness!¡± she announced while arrogantly laughing through her sharp teeth.


    ¡°Demon Lord?¡± that title was a shock; something Irina would never have expected, but on closer inspection of the scene around her it was beginning to become much more believable. That said, this place known as ¡®Hellgana¡¯ wasn¡¯t one she had heard of before.


    From her knowledge, the title of ¡®Demon Lord¡¯ should¡¯ve referred to only one person who existed in the mysterious central continent. That person should still now be there, so what was this girl? Was she lying? But her power was undeniable. ¡°Why do you attack? What have we done to you that incurred this genocide of my people?¡±


    Before she killed the self-proclaimed demon lord, she wanted to know ¡®why¡¯.


    ¡°You¡¯re asking why?¡± Morialia shrugged. ¡°Initially because he¡­ because I thought the draconians would make for excellent foot soldiers, however it seems I was wrong. You guys are so weak I don¡¯t even know what I could use you for, but then it came to me: I should just use your bodies as base ingredients to turn into superior black skeleton soldiers! It¡¯s that¡­ uh, what do the humans call it, ah! ¡®Recycling¡¯! Aren¡¯t I a genius?!¡±


    ¡°What did you say?¡± Irina furrowed her brows and squinted at her. ¡°For such a reason? We had to die because of such a stupid reason?!¡± Irina swung her sword once more to fire off another shockwave of her ¡®Flame of the Avenger¡¯, to very little effect. The flames parted and fizzled out before even touching the girl, but the way she remained seated on that pompous black throne without lifting even a figure was much more aggravating.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Morialia replied so matter-of-factly. ¡°But let me ask you a question, are you the ruler of this place? You can¡¯t possibly be, right? I mean, you¡¯re too weak¡­ Or wait¡­ I¡¯m not even sure anymore. I feel like the image of dragons in my head was far more than what I actually got.¡± She sighed out aloud with disappointment.


    ¡°I am Irina Sinclair! The next heir to Drakenholdt, and your greatest opponent, monster!¡± declared the princess.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    The Demon Lord lowered her altitude and landed her black throne onto the ground. Having now taken a closer look, this girl¡¯s appearance truly didn¡¯t live up to her grand title. If not for her immense power and the horn, she would¡¯ve been indistinguishable from a regular ten-year-old human child. She got off the chair and stood with her arms crossed opposite to Irina as if to accept her challenge.


    ¡°So, you¡¯re the next ruler for this place? Hmm,¡± she thought to herself briefly. ¡°Then can I ask you something? What do you think a failed sovereign should do?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not the ruler for this place, but the feeling should be the same, right? A king who is about to face down the downfall of their country. Tell me, what does it feel like and what do you think you should do?¡± there was a strange melancholy behind her words, but Irina could not understand where she was coming from, or rather, she didn¡¯t care for that. ¡®What should she do?¡¯ wasn¡¯t it obvious?


    ¡°I¡¯m going to kill you.¡±


    Irina lunged at her with her sword in her hand towards the small body. She covered the some fifty-metre distance between them in less than two seconds and appeared abruptly before the girl with the edge of her blade rushing for her neck. The girl remained still until the last second when she somehow intercepted the searing blade with just her fingers. ¡°Yeah, I guess that¡¯s how it normally goes; even knowing you have no chance of victory you still charge at me with your life. It¡¯s quite admirable, if just a bit futile.¡±


    ¡°Enough! Just die!¡±


    Irina continued to swing. To little effect.


    She changed her tactics and wove flame and lightning magic into her barrage, but even those were useless against this impossibly powerful little girl. Flame magic would burn everything around her except the target itself. Lightning magic would dissipate at the lightest contact with her bare, porcelain skin. Just how was any of that possible? How does a living being become that powerful?


    No amount of technical skill or magical talent was enough to overcome this great wall.


    ¡°I can¡­ sort of understand what you¡¯re going through,¡± the demon lord suddenly declared in a lonesome voice.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I mean, it¡¯s a bit strange isn¡¯t it? I¡¯m supposed to be the demon lord, yet I have no army behind me; I¡¯m here scraping the bottom of the barrel by turning to your draconians.¡±


    The thought hadn¡¯t even crossed Irina¡¯s mind that there was a possibility of an even stronger foe than this girl. She didn¡¯t want to think about something that absurd. She continued her attack while wordlessly listening to the words of this solemn demon lord.


    ¡°When I first lost, that¡¯s how I felt too. Everything I had spent my entire life building up had instantly turned meaningless before ¡®his¡¯ power. It wasn¡¯t even a fair fight- I had the overwhelming advantage- but none of that matter when I lost. It wasn¡¯t just my body that died that day, I think a part of my soul was also killed. And now, I¡¯m reduced to this mess.¡±


    The girl continued to block all her attacks and magic without moving a spot.


    ¡°After so long, I don¡¯t even have the will to revolt anymore. Although, seeing how desperately you¡¯re fighting against me, it does rekindle that kind of desire. Then again, I suppose my current lifestyle isn¡¯t too objectionable.¡±


    ¡°Enough of your incomprehensible rambling!¡± Irina shouted as she leapt back and summoned a meteor shower from the heavens.


    ¡°Aha, sorry,¡± the girl laughed and apologized. ¡°I did get a little to sentimental for a moment there. Then, I¡¯ll take on your attack seriously this time,¡± she said as she raised her hands and summoned her own magic. The ground growled as a large, red stone monument emerged out of the dirt. An ancient-seeming structure soaring high into the sky carved with many different glyphs that Irina did not recognize.


    ¡°What is¡­¡±


    ¡°This? It¡¯s called a spell called the ¡®Red Arcane Megalith¡¯. Basically, it does ¡®this¡¯,¡± the girl clicked her fingers and in that instant all the meteors falling towards her as well as the flame enchantment on her blade dissipated without a trace. Reapplication efforts also failed. The girl¡¯s appearance also started to change somewhat. Though she retained her humanoid appearance, her skin glowed a searing white-orange and became instable like she had become flame itself. A great torrent of heat surged out of her, and everything made of wood combusted on the spot, while metal melted in her presence. Irina herself, despite being part flame dragon, also felt a pain at the sheer heat. ¡°It¡¯s a spell that allows me to temporarily become the deity of flames and control all flame-based magic.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s absurd,¡± Irina replied but this heat and the fact she couldn¡¯t conjure flames was forcing the truth on her.


    ¡°Hey, I¡¯ve been wondering for a while now, but why are you holding back?¡± asked the girl.


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re one of those special draconians, right? You possess the ability to transform, do you not?¡±


    For a moment Irina held her breath. That was true, she was one of the rare talented that had unlocked the ability to transcend to the mighty true dragon form. Yet, she hadn¡¯t used it. The last vestiges of her pride held her back; she couldn¡¯t stand the idea of having to use her full power against anything other than another dragon. ¡°Tch,¡± she bit her pride and took a deep breath.


    Looking around, nothing was as she remembered it. The remnants of the outpost had burnt up and everything surrounding her was a charred, desolate field. This truly wasn¡¯t the kind of situation she should¡¯ve held back.


    Irina¡¯s sword dissipated from her hands as she took several steps back. She glared at the avatar of flames before her before jumping high into the sky. With a brilliant aureate and crimson blast of light, what descended was nothing short of a behemoth. ¡®Irina Sinclair¡¯ was the product of both a gold and red dragon. She had the best of both worlds, being proficient in both the flames and lightning, but as of now her access to her flame-based skills had been sealed away by the enormous crimson structure.


    Her dragon form reflected her true linage. Her scales spiked up with a rich aureate glow with the tips dyed in a magnificent blood red. A great sanguine mane ran down her back and spine that flared up as though it were fire itself. Her tough, ivory claws closed in on the girl''s petite body as though she were a doll. To say that Irina dwarfed this demon lord¡¯s was an understatement. The difference in their stature was the difference between an elephant and squirrel.


    Power coursed through her entire body and finally she gathered the confidence she thought she needed to erase this demon. ¡°For your crimes against the Draconians, I shall see to your death!¡± Irina clasped her clawed hands together with enough force that it''d demolish a castle with a single clap. Yet even after all that, she couldn''t close her hand completely. There was a translucent white bubble caught between her hands and within it was the young girl''s mischievous smile, protected. ¡°Kuh!¡± she pressed harder, but it was impossible to crush this bubble. The strength of a dragon, yet this girl¡­ this demon!


    The girl raised her hand and clicked her fingers. Small flaming orbs rose from the ground and formed into tiny flaming black needles, all directed at her. She had never seen this sort of spell before. There were a lot of things she hadn¡¯t seen that this girl could do. The feeling these flaming needles gave off was similar to that of the Sword of Darkness; instinct warned her. Irina quickly moved her body away, but the needles were locked onto her, and with the signal of the girl''s click, the hundreds and thousands of black needles launched at her as though they were each alive and furious with her. Thousands of tiny stings assaulted her entire body.


    It was indeed similar to the Sword of Darkness, but also different; much crueller. Whereas the Sword was a single instance of a straightforward attack, this tore her from both the outside and the inside simultaneously. The damage to her body after facing just one of these attacks would be irreparable. She could feel the constitution holding her body together weakening. Her right arm was the first to go as it fell off after a few seconds of sustained damage and crashed with a loud ''thud¡¯.


    She was brought to her knees and on the verge of death. ¡°¡­¡± blood trickled down from the thousands of newly formed holes in her body.


    ¡°Don''t worry,¡± the girl''s elevated voice told her. ¡°I held back and made sure to leave out the anti-healing effects of these needles. You should be able to heal after a few minutes, provided you don''t do anything stupid.¡±


    ¡°H¡­ held¡­ back?¡± Irina lifted her face heavily and stared back towards the girl. ¡°You¡­ till the end¡­¡±


    She felt tired. So very tired. Her eyelids were heavy.