In the hypotheses about this city that wizards had left behind, this powerful wizard spent his entire life researching a new, more perfect path of deathless wizardry—which was another point that surprised Luge. From what was written, this was a bizarre sort of wizard, one who was all but immortal, undying and indestructible; and the very fact that he was said to be researching a new path meant that an old one already existed. This wizard, in the end, because of a single problem he could never solve, turned his eyes upon the World of Knowledge.
The World of Knowledge was a world even more dangerous than the Nightmare World; the stronger a person was, the less they dared to approach it carelessly.
And so this wizard had designed just such a city, using its peculiar nature to draw in the answer he had awaited for so long. For in that wondrous world, knowledge was an abstract, living thing; like little sprites, it would actively chase after any being that might comprehend it. The higher the tier of knowledge one could reach, the more perilous it was to enter that world—vast hordes of knowledge would swarm in, burst one's skull, and annihilate one's soul.
Luge's breathing grew heavier the more he read. He was not frightened; instead, he felt a certain longing for that world. He simply could not picture the scene of being chased down by knowledge, yet he thought it might be a rather beautiful sight—provided, of course, that it came before one's skull burst open.
He kept leafing through it. To his mind, this thin little book, The Truth of the Mystery City Revealed, revealed nothing at all; it was merely a crude roundup of the rumors and gossip drifting about the camp. In the end it did not even give the city's name, only vaguely calling it Mystery City.
After reading it through once, he spent a while with the Demonic Form spell book, but the figure he had been expecting still did not appear.
So he put his books away and made his way back through the camp to the elf.
As he passed through the camp, he saw people hiring lizardfolk mercenaries in whole teams. The few lizardfolk around Baonte had likely been hired here as well, he figured, though he had no idea at what price.
As he walked, he thought over what came later in The Truth of the Mystery City Revealed. To draw in the World of Knowledge, Mystery City had any number of arrangements in place. Among them was a magical spring, said to be one of that powerful wizard's masterpieces—which the booklet crudely explained as a supercharged version of the expensive Clear Mind Potion. It also recorded that, some time earlier, a powerful worm-person had tried to force his way into the city, and in the very instant of impact had been smashed to pieces and scattered across the sky.
When he got back to the campfire, the fire man was already cooking—but this time it was a stew. Mushrooms of every kind and chunks of meat bubbled away with a steady gurgle, filling the air with a rich aroma.
Luge felt a little embarrassed. They were not really close, after all, and it was not right to keep mooching meals.
"Two magic stones a bowl," the fire man said suddenly.
Luge blinked, then casually fished out two magic stones and handed them over—and, sure enough, got his bowl of soup.
Off to one side, the elf rolled her eyes.
Bang! Flame erupted! Even the soup pot was caught in it, spilling out two or three bowls' worth.
Baonte strode out of the burst of flame, but the lizardfolk mercenaries were nowhere to be seen behind him.
"Six magic stones," the fire man said, holding out his hand.
Baonte, whose expression was already grim, was taken aback by this. His baffled look softened a little, and without a word he fished out six magic stones and handed them over.
As Baonte sat down, he glanced at Luge as well, but likewise said nothing.
"Gannaya, do you know anything about the illusory city?"
Saying this, Luge handed over the little booklet he had bought.
The elf set down her half-finished soup and curiously took it to leaf through.
"Give it up. This city has been stirring a great deal these past couple of days. You might miss the city's opening over a single snake."
The fire man handed over a bowl of soup.
Baonte took the soup and drank it in silence, lost in thought.
"The snake? I caught it long ago." Baonte shot a glance at the kobold beside him.
Luge chatted with the elf while pricking up his ears.
From the sound of it, the fire man still did not know that Baonte had already caught the snake—this truly was Baonte's own private affair. But setting it beside what he had read in The Truth of the Mystery City Revealed, Luge could see how determined Baonte was about the matter. After all, even if the booklet were half true and half false, it was still worth a great deal, and with Baonte running all over the place, he would very likely miss his chance, just as the fire man had said.
At the same time, Luge realized something: had he not been there, Baonte might never have brought up the matter of catching the snake at all. He really had become an eyesore of a kobold.
"That snake—it was Kaliu's, wasn't it?" The fire man stirred his spoon.
The elf, too, looked up curiously.
"Yes. I was the one who helped him find it, many years ago," Baonte said, drinking his soup, then tossing over another six magic stones for a refill. "I want to give him a proper burial. After all, at the academy, he was—barely—my only friend."
The elf looked blank, as though she did not know who Kaliu was.
"Kaliu is dead?" the fire man said.
"Mm. I cleaved him apart with my own hands. He should be dead—his familiar's reaction confirms it, too. But he was a tricky one from the time he was small," Baonte said, drinking his soup. "That day, the very moment I split him open, I was caught in his spell as well. But I could tell he was dead. His familiar took his corpse up in its mouth, and while I was unable to move, ran off right before my eyes..."
Baonte set down his empty bowl and swept his gaze over the few of them around the campfire.
Even seated here, his burly frame was still the tallest of all, and his face at that moment looked rather grim.
"As his friend, I was deeply grieved. I said nothing because I judged that none of you could understand," he said, his face dark. "I bear him no malice, but he blocked my path to the supernatural, so he had to die. Even if he was my only friend, I still had to strike off his head with the blade in my hand. The only thing I could do was make my sword all the sharper, so that I would leave him no pain."
Shrinking his head down, Luge tilted it to glance at the elf—only to find that the elven lady looked just as astonished.
"In that hateful homeland of mine," the elf suddenly spoke up with a smile, "even driving the crudest, cheapest knife through the chest of one's own kin is a common thing. I have hated such things ever since I was small, and yet no one has ever been quite like you—you give me the strangest feeling, as though some dignified, solemn soul were earnestly spouting utter nonsense."
Baonte thought it over for a moment, and actually nodded.
The fire man was still stirring the pot, and he had added a few more ingredients. He seemed especially fond of cooking—he carried a set of exquisite tableware on him, and was now handing out servings to those who passed by. Sadly, though Luge watched him for quite a while, he only managed to give away a single bowl.
Luge was just about to tip back his head and down the last mouthful of soup in his bowl.
Then the surface of the soup suddenly rippled.
He turned his head. Everyone nearby was doing the same, gazing toward that far-off, enigmatic city—the one that seemed to float in the air, and yet seemed to lie in some other space and time.
Was this the disturbance they had spoken of? Or was it truly about to open? Had that little crybaby worm-person made it inside? Luge wondered.
Then a question suddenly struck him. If this city was so fine, why were only apprentice wizards here? Why had none of the formal wizards come—nor even more powerful wizards? Especially Lord Niteli, that wizard who likewise had a commission to fulfill.
Chapter 69