by Michael Sisa
They carefully stored the flower inside a metallic box and gave it to the man with the highest odds of surviving their current predicament—to Captain Symon himself.
With the Tears of Ubroxia in his hands, Captain Symon started devising a plan. He knew that it’d be impossible for all of them to return home alive.
Sacrifices were inevitable.
He steeled his resolve.
They needed to bring this flower back to the capital, no matter the cost.
CHAPTER 15
Time passed by peacefully in Blackstone Town.
The school next to the library had been completed: two floors, three rooms each, capable of accommodating more than a hundred people at once.
At the same time, they’d managed to mass-produce the books Lark bought from the capital. Currently, several dozen books about Agriculture, History, Geography, and Religion filled the shelves of the local library. These books would be used by the students studying the basic curriculum of the school. There had been an announcement some time ago that those who managed to finish the course would be eligible for key positions in Blackstone Town.
Lark also finished writing another book entitled Lost Paradise. It was a fiction novel, unlike his first book, Principles of a Just Sovereign.
This new book recounted the story of an orphan sold to slave merchants at a very young age. It depicted the orphan’s struggles, his escape, and eventually, his freedom. A story of an orphan from the countryside, an orphan with great talent in sword and magic.
Lost Paradise heavily criticized slavery and corruption in governments, and it romanticized the bravery of knights, scholars, and magicians.
The readers probably wouldn’t have expected this, but the simple breathing techniques the protagonist used in this book were actually applicable in real life.
If one tried these breathing techniques, it’d be possible for them to gather mana more efficiently into their bodies. A way to expand a person’s mana pool was also included in the story, and ways of healing several diseases using rare plants were also described in great detail.
Lost Paradise was a treasure trove in disguise.
Lark excitedly awaited the day when someone eventually discovered that all of the techniques used by the protagonist in his novel were reproducible in real life. It would definitely be amusing to see.
Just like before, the book was written by someone called Evander Alaester.
“My Lord, we’ve finished spreading the compost in the Western Land,” said Gaston.
Lark had been sitting in his office for several hours now. On top of his desk was a pile of documents. Every day, he made sure to check the progress of all of Blackstone Town’s projects, and he also looked at their current finances.
“We’ll proceed with planting the seeds tomorrow as planned.” Lark didn’t take his eyes off the document he was holding as he spoke.
“Of course, My Lord.”
“With the school building finished, I want you to allocate more men for the road projects,” said Lark. “The road leading to Lion City will be our priority.”
The main road leading to the heart of Blackstone Town was already complete, and it branched into several smaller roads leading to different key locations in the territory.
With the discovery of the sixth and seventh area in the mines, the number of kalranes produced each day increased by half. Lark ordered the officials to allocate a third of the kalranes they mined each day for Blackstone Town. They used these kalrane stones to light up the newly built residential district, and some were also installed at the road leading toward Lion City.
There had been incidences of people stealing the kalrane stones installed on top of wooden posts, but with the recent establishment of the police, such incidences dwindled.
Three loud knocks were heard on the door. Upon opening, a servant mumbled something to the butler then handed him a sealed letter.
After the servant left, Gaston handed the letter to Lark.
“This is?” Lark stared at the blue seal.
“A letter from the Temple of Nereus,” said Gaston.
“The Temple of the Water God?” Lark ripped open the letter and started reading its contents.
The first part was filled with pleasantries. The temple praised Lark for his valor during the war with the Empire. They also praised him for culling the Black Famine, and for defeating the Third Legion of the United Grakas Alliance.
The second part contained the real message.
Lark fell silent for a moment as he pondered. The offer of the temple would definitely elevate the status of his territory, but he was still unsure of the temple’s real aim—the reason why they were giving the lord of a small town such favor.
“They wish to build a temple in Blackstone Town,” Lark said to Gaston.
Gaston’s eyes glimmered in excitement. “T-That’s great! A temple under one of the seven Gods is among the prerequisites for a town to become a city!”
Lark agreed. It was indeed godsend that they would no longer have to request to have a temple built in Blackstone Town. In this Kingdom, there were five prerequisites in order for a town to be elevated into a city: a population of at least five thousand, an established temple under one of the seven Gods, a local government, a merchants guild, and a royal charter.
With the current influx of immigrants from various territories in the east, they would eventually reach a population of five thousand by next year. Establishing a merchants guild would be tricky but feasible, especially with the help of Big Mona. And now that the Priests of Nereus had voiced their wish to establish a temple in Blackstone Town, all that was left was the royal charter from the crown.
But something was bothering Lark. He found it eerie that the Priests of Nereus had suddenly reached out to them now, of all times. What was their aim?
There’s no use in overthinking things. Lark shook off unnecessary thoughts.
He said to Gaston, “Send a letter to the Temple of the Water God in Lion City. Tell them that I am giving them the approval to build a temple in Blackstone Town. If they need any help in establishing the temple, I want you to assist them as much as possible.”
Gaston bowed. “As you wish, My Lord.”
After the butler left the office, loud footsteps were heard in the hallway. Someone yanked the door open.
Princess Esmeralda, along with her five knights walked briskly toward Lark’s desk. They were panting, as though they had run all the way toward this place.
“What’s the matter, Princess?” Lark decided to ignore the fact that the princess had suddenly barged in unannounced. Judging by their faces, the reason for their visit must be important.
“They found the flower!” the princess said, breathlessly.
She slammed a newspaper onto Lark’s desk. “I received this from the traveling merchants just a while ago.”
The princess was agitated, while the knights were visibly tense. Lark took the newspaper and read its contents.
It had been more than a month since His Majesty collapsed. The king still showed no signs of waking up. The ministers tried to quell the rumors, but speculation had already spread among the citizens of the Kingdom.
The majority believed that this incident was a ploy of the Emperor, a retaliation after the Empire’s defeat in Yorkshaire. But there was speculation that the king had been cursed by a powerful magician. A curse powerful enough to resist healing spells of high priests and royal court magicians.
Who is it? Who is the perpetrator targeting the life of His Majesty?
The expedition team, they sent out over a month ago to obtain a certain item to cure His Majesty, have finally returned. Out of eighty-nine men, only five have returned alive. The royal court magicians who accompanied them—The Fortress and The Sylphid—both perished in battle. Their captain managed to return alive, but lost his right arm during their escape. The four other knights who escaped with him are currently in critical condition. The five of them are currently recupe
rating in the Temple of the Earth in Boris County.
Losing the royal knights, an elite unit, is a terrible blow to the Kingdom. Unfortunately, no one knows if the expedition was a success—if they managed to obtain that certain item.
The citizens of the Kingdom want to know—
—If His Majesty dies, who will ascend the throne?
After he finished reading the newspaper, Lark leaned on his chair and momentarily stared at the ceiling. The expedition team was almost annihilated. In order to obtain the Tears of Ubroxia, almost a hundred elite knights died in the process.
“You said they found the flower?” said Lark. He hadn’t read any news regarding it in the paper.
The Princess nodded. She looked at Parzival.
“That’s right,” said Parzival. “We’ve sent the capital the list of items we’ll need to sever the curse of His Majesty. We received their reply just now, and they told us that the flower is already on its way to the capital.”
“I see,” said Lark.
It made sense that a different group was tasked to deliver the Tears of Ubroxia to the capital. The captain was severely injured and his men who’d managed to survive were in critical condition.
“We’ve got the flower,” said Lark. “Now we’ll only need the mithril for the phylactery, plus a high-grade mana stone.”
The rest of the items needed to sever the curse were easy to find, aside from those two he mentioned.
Parzival made a signal to his comrades. The other knights placed a leather sack on top of Lark’s desk.
“Mithril ingots. Three of them,” said Parzival. “And one high-grade mana stone. All were sent by Lady Ropianna herself.”
Lark was surprised by the latter part of Parzival’s statement. He hadn’t expected that royal court magician to send all of these highly-coveted items to him, a mere lord of a small town.
“Although there are limits to her magic, Lady Ropianna is a seer,” said the Princess. “She must have judged your method to be correct.”
“It’s pretty hard to gather all these items, even with the help of the royal family,” added Parzival. “She must have gone to great lengths just to obtain them. I heard that the high-grade mana stone was taken out of the Lady’s family heirloom.”
Hearing this, it was apparent that the royal court magician did everything she could to obtain the items Lark listed.
“A seer,” Lark mumbled, his interest piqued.
Even back in the Magic Empire, people capable of seeing glimpses of the future were rare. They were highly coveted, no matter where they went.
Although several lives were lost in the process, with the help of this so-called seer, they were now only a few steps away from curing His Majesty. As long as Agares was no stronger than a High Demon, everything should work perfectly. They should be able to sever the link entirely.
“Send another message to the capital,” said Lark. “Tell them that they should absolutely not use the Tears of Ubroxia, no matter what.”
Parzival saluted. “I will send the fastest messenger right away.”
“We’ll depart for Lion City tomorrow morning to meet the blacksmith.” Lark looked at the leather sack containing the mithril ingots. “If everything proceeds smoothly, it should be possible to complete the phylactery in a week.”
Garma managed to complete the mithril cubes in just two weeks. Creating the phylactery should be a piece of cake for a blacksmith of his caliber. The sooner the blacksmith finished it, the better.
“And one more thing.” Lark raised a finger. “We need a desolated place to perform the ritual. Plus an army and several magicians.”
“An army?” Parzival shot a quizzical gaze.
“Yes. An army,” repeated Lark. “If by some rotten luck the ritual fails—if the fragment of the demon called Agares breaks the phylactery—we’ll end up face-to-face with that monster. In my current state, even I will find it hard to defeat a High Demon all by myself. We’ll need all the reinforcements we can possibly get. We don’t want to involve innocent people in this mess. We need a place devoid of innocent civilians, a place to conduct the ritual.”
CHAPTER 16
Unlike when Lark first left his territory to embark on a journey toward the capital, he no longer felt unsettled leaving the management of the town in his subordinates’ hands. He was now confident of his men’s capabilities. He was sure that they would manage Blackstone Town properly during his absence.
Lark summoned the officials of his territory to his office.
“I’ll be gone for a couple of months,” said Lark. “Although I can’t disclose the exact reason why… I’ll be heading to the capital.”
“You’re leaving again?” said Silver Claw.
It felt like just yesterday when Lark gathered his soldiers and went to the western front to participate in the war against the Empire.
“It can’t be helped,” said Lark. “There are things which need my physical presence. I’ll be looking forward to seeing the Town Hall. I hope it’s complete by the time I come back.”
“Sounds like you’ll be gone for quite some time.” Silver Claw scratched his cheeks. He was the only officer in this room who could talk informally with Lark. “The Town Hall will be done before autumn ends. Leave it to me.”
“End of autumn, huh?”
Lark was reminded that winter was looming. That season marked his first year since coming to this timeline.
Lark slid a document toward Pico. “This the proof of payment for the livestock we’ve ordered from Lion City. Six pairs of cattle, ten pairs of goats, fifteen sheep, five horses.” Pico took the document and slowly read the first page. “It’ll take some time, but I hope that there will come a time when we’ll no longer have to order livestock from the nearby territories. Coordinate with Silver Claw for the sheds. Be sure everything’s done before winter arrives.”
“Yes, Young Lord!”
The south was a vast grassland. It was the perfect place for the animals to graze around.
“Oliver,” said Lark.
“Yes, My Lord!”
“While I’m gone, you’ll have full authority over the northern and western farmlands,” said Lark. “Although we already have enough food stored in the granaries to last us throughout winter, the rise in our territory’s population is steep. I want all of the wheat seeds planted in the Northern Land by the end of this month. Remember, there’s no such thing as too much food—we can always export the excess to the surrounding regions.”
“Leave it to me, Lord.” Oliver bowed his head. “We’re already halfway done with planting the seeds. I’m confident in meeting our Lord’s deadline.”
Lark nodded in satisfaction at this. “Very well. I expect a lot from you.” He looked at all of the officers in the room. “The same goes for everyone here. Coordinate with each other while I’m away.”
“Yes, Lord!”
***
Along with all of his disciples, the princess, and her knights, Lark made his way to Lion City. Unlike before, the road leading toward the city was visibly more secure: mercenaries hired by the merchants guild patrolled the road, and some of the paths were lit by kalrane stones. They even passed by a small cabin, which served as a garrison for the mercenaries, on their way to the city.
After arriving at the city, Lark went straight to the smithy, while the rest of the group lodged at an inn.
Upon the princess’ insistent request, Chryselle ended up sharing the same room with Her Highness.
Princess Esmeralda sat on the bed and patted the wool blanket. “Hey, at this rate, I’ll never learn how to use magic, will I?”
Chryselle didn’t immediately respond to the princess’ question. She carefully thought of her next words. “You can, Your Highness. But becoming a disciple of Master Lark is out of the question.” Chryselle slowly added, “But you can always learn from someone else. You’re a princess of this Kingdom, after all.”
A few weeks ago, Chryselle heard from Lark himself
that he had no intentions of teaching the princess any spells. According to him, the princess lacked the fundamentals to become a decent magician. She had mediocre mana pool, and her talent in magic was very subpar. Chryselle confirmed this herself when the princess asked her to teach her the magic basics.
The princess would eventually become capable of casting first-tier to second-tier spells if she persevered, but that was probably her limit. She would not achieve greater heights than this.
The princess slumped on the bed. She sighed. “You’re a princess of the kingdom, after all—I’ve heard these words a lot, even when I was still at the capital. It’s frustrating. Whenever people look at me, they only see my status as the princess of this country.”
Chryselle simply listened and didn’t utter a reply. As one of the elders of the Magic Tower, she understood what the Princess was going through right now.
“Princess this, princess that,” she angrily mumbled. “Can’t they see anything aside from that useless title!”
Realizing that she had raised her voice, she looked at Chryselle apologetically. But after the princess remembered once again when Lark called her mere baggage, frustration started swelling up within her.
“I can always get another magician to teach me, that’s right,” said the Princess. “But that’s also like saying I’ve given up. That that stupid Lark Marcus was right!”
Chryselle smiled at the fuming princess. She looked cute, despite her childish remarks. Maybe it would feel like this, if she had a younger sister?
Although Chryselle had been dubbed as a magic prodigy ever since she was a child, she could still understand where the princess was coming from.
Chryselle sat on the bed, right next to the princess. She said, “How about the sword, Your Highness?”
Princess Esmeralda shook her head. “I don’t like swords. Parzival tried teaching me swordsmanship when I was little. He said I have talent with it, but just the mere thought of cutting another person with a blade is enough to make my stomach churn. I can’t do it.”