Revelation

by Sisa, Michael

  “Then what should we do, Lord Evander?” King Melandrach was desperate. His hands trembled as he waited for an answer.

  “Unless the demons come at us from the east, the elven kingdom should be safe as long as the Kingdom of Lukas and the United Grakas Alliance in the South do not fall to the demons,” said Lark.

  Indeed. It made sense. Right now, those two nations served as walls protecting the Endless Forest.

  “Your best shot at survival is to ensure that those two nations do not fall from the flames of war. As your trading partner, I promise to help you to the best of my ability. But at the end of the day, the fate of your race rests in your hands, King Melandrach.”

  VOLUME 7: CHAPTER 11

  Big Mona still couldn’t believe his luck. He realized why Lark had asked him to make that vow.

  Today, the fat merchant had learned several things: First, the true identity of Lark Marcus. Based on what he’d heard, a powerful, ancient magician was currently inhabiting the body of the second son of Duke Drakus.

  Evander Alaester.

  One of the strongest magicians in the history of humankind. A magician who killed two Demon Lords during his lifetime.

  When Big Mona learned of this, everything that had transpired these past several months finally made sense.

  It explained how Lark Marcus had changed so drastically. It explained how a vile, incompetent noble managed to defeat the Third Legion of the United Grakas Alliance, how he managed to brew those extremely potent healing potions, and how he managed to lead the kingdom to its victory against the Empire.

  The second thing the merchant learned was the existence of the elven kingdom. A nation located at the heart of the Endless Forest. Although it was composed of only one city and several garrisons, Big Mona knew, judging by the conversation, that it was a powerful nation. Moreover, all of the elven warriors accompanying the King of Elves and Priestess Siofra felt incredibly dangerous. Each of them was probably as powerful as a royal knight of the kingdom.

  Big Mona was certain that there were no records regarding the existence of the Kingdom of Aerith. Understandable, since it would take almost a month by foot from Blackstone Town to reach their city. For humans, it would have been incredibly hard to navigate through the sea of trees—which was akin to a maze—for such a long period of time.

  Big Mona licked his lower lip. He could already hear the clanking of gold coins. He was certain that he would eventually amass great wealth if he played his cards right. Currently, the elves were practically begging Lark Marcus for his protection. Monopolizing trade with their country was no longer a pipe dream. Big Mona couldn’t help but shudder at the very thought of becoming the elven kingdom’s exclusive merchant.

  “Big Mona here is a seasoned merchant,” said Lark. “He swore an oath of death for me. You can trust him.”

  Big Mona bowed his head lightly. “It’s a pleasure to meet the priestess and His Majesty.”

  Big Mona was quick-witted. He immediately realized from the conversation that the priestess held a higher standing than the elven king. He made sure to greet the priestess before King Melandrach.

  King Melandrach looked at the fat merchant sitting next to Anandra. “I trust Lord Evander’s judgment. Although humans are forbidden from entering the kingdom and its border, it should be fine to make exceptions.”

  Lark and the elves continued discussing various scenarios and possibilities regarding the upcoming war with the demons.

  According to Lark, a lesser demon was a bit stronger than an average human. The elven warriors should be capable of winning against them one on one. The problem was the demons with the ability to parasitize or corrupt their enemies. There were also some demons with incredibly fast regenerative abilities—difficult to kill with physical attacks. Hearing this, the elves couldn’t help but worry about the imminent war.

  “Mydgrengia was it?” said Lark. “The black metal your race uses to make arrowheads. I believe it will be useful when fighting against the demons, especially those that belong to the parasitic demon tribe.”

  The faces of the elves brightened upon hearing this. This was good news. At the very least, it seemed that their arrows were capable of paralyzing even demons.

  “I see!” said King Melandrach, visibly pleased.

  “King Melandrach, is it possible to secure those arrowheads for our kingdom’s army?” said Lark.

  King Melandrach rubbed his short beard. “That black metal, it’s made from the leaves of a mydgrengia. Although a lot of it grows near the cavern where the carnivorous worms live, it takes a year for the leaves to fully harden into a metal. We can probably provide a hundred thousand arrowheads each year at most, Lord Evander.”

  “A hundred thousand,” mumbled Lark. It wasn’t much, especially after hearing from the Arzomos that six demon tribes had allied themselves to free the Immortal Demon. “It’s better than nothing. Mona—”

  “Yes!” said Big Mona. He sounded more enthusiastic than usual. His eyes were glimmering with desire.

  “Coordinate with the elves regarding this matter. Procure as much iron as you can from the Merchants Guild and from the other cities. It should be possible to smelt them and combine the two.”

  “Understood! Leave it to me!” Big Mona thumped his chest with his hand.

  Lark had seen the arrowheads before. The black metal held an incredibly potent paralyzing ability. It should still be strong enough to paralyze a demon even if they smelt it with iron.

  “Gather your most trusted men and make sure each of them undergoes the vow of silence,” Lark said to Big Mona. “We’ll establish a trading route between Aerith and Blackstone Town. As my merchant, it’ll be your job to oversee everything. I’m entrusting you with this responsibility, Mona.”

  Big Mona was smiling broadly, his greed clearly showing on his face. For a moment, the elves felt disgusted upon seeing it. If not for Lord Evander, they wouldn’t have allowed this human to have that much authority over their kingdom’s trade.

  “I won’t disappoint you, partner!” said Big Mona.

  Lark noticed that his three disciples had been silent the whole time. Of all his companions, only Big Mona seemed to be thrilled about what they’d heard so far.

  Lark said to George, “Are you disappointed?”

  George looked at him for a moment before replying, “About what… Master?”

  “That I’m not the real Lark Marcus. That I’m a fake, an impostor who took over this body.”

  George shook his head. “No! Master isn’t a fake!” George realized that he had shouted. He lowered his voice and added, “You’re not a fake…” He looked Lark in the eyes then averted his gaze. “And you said it too… That you took over that body more than a year ago. It means that the master we knew was you all along. Master, for us, you’re the real Lark Marcus.”

  “George is right, Master,” said Austen. “At least for us, you’re the real one.”

  Anandra nodded his head once in agreement.

  A soft smile formed on Lark’s face. He felt an indescribable warmth flowing through his body. It was a nice feeling. His disciples had acknowledged the real him.

  “I agree with the kids, partner,” Big Mona said, chuckling. “Who cares about the real owner of that body! It’s better that we have you here!”

  Big Mona had been sucking up to him more than usual today. He must be delighted upon learning of the trade with elves.

  “King Melandrach, aside from those guardian golems, does the elven kingdom have any other defensive measures to protect it from a demon invasion?” said Lark.

  King Melandrach pondered for a moment. Should he tell the humans about the artifact capable of temporarily summoning the God of Earth to this realm?

  No. It wouldn’t be wise to reveal the trump card of their race.

  “I’m afraid not, Lord Evander,” said King Melandrach.

  “I see. Then… if you have mithril or adamantite, it should be possible for me to create a barrier t
o protect your kingdom. Just a precautionary measure, what do you say?”

  Since Lark knew the exact location of a dragon vein, it should be possible for him to refill the mana he would spend in creating the barrier. It should be possible, as long as he had the Sword of Morpheus.

  “A barrier? Of course!” said King Melandrach. “We have a few mithril in the treasure room! Please use as much as you need to create the barrier, Lord Evander!”

  “That settles it then,” said Lark. “Mona, you stay here and coordinate with the elves. I’ll return the kids to Blackstone Town first, before heading straight to the Kingdom of Aerith.”

  “I’ll be gone for a couple of hours,” Lark said to King Melandrach. “Please pick several men who will ride Blackie with you. We’ll depart immediately once I return from Blackstone Town.”

  “B-Blackie?” said King Melandrach. “You mean the E-Earth Scylla? We’re riding that… thing?”

  “That’s right.”

  The elves turned pallid. The mere thought of riding that monster made them quiver from fright. Priestess Siofra, on the other hand, seemed pleased with the idea.

  Lark grinned. He said mischievously, “Don’t worry. Blackie’s quite docile.”

  ***

  Using flight magic, Lark and his disciples returned to Blackstone Town. After tasking his disciples to continue with their training, Lark went to where Herbalist Mores lived.

  Lark knocked on the door. Even from the outside, he could smell the scent of medicinal concoctions.

  Mores partly opened the door and peeked outside, before opening it wide.

  “Young Lord?”

  “Mores, it’s been a while,” said Lark. He got straight to the point, “I’m here to check on the mandrakes. Can I come inside?”

  “Ah! Of course, of course.”

  Lark entered the herbalist’s house and saw the dried herbs hanging from the ceiling. There was a large cabinet filled with bottles and several cauldrons were sitting on the ground. Herbalist Mores’ assistant bowed upon seeing Lark.

  “Over here, Young Lord,” said Mores.

  Lark followed the herbalist and arrived at a room with a large opened window. Next to the window were two large pots where the mandrakes had been planted.

  “We’ve been feeding it with blood, as you instructed,” said Mores. He touched the bell-shaped flower, his fingers sliding through its ovate leaves. The base of its stem formed the face of a child—its eyes closed and smiling.

  Unlike before, the herbalist no longer seemed to fear it.

  “It’s grown a lot. The fact that it’s smiling shows that you’ve done an excellent job taking care of it,” said Lark. “Good work, Mores.”

  The herbalist scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. He was clearly pleased upon hearing the praise from the young master.

  “I’m unworthy of such praise, My Lord,” said Mores. “I merely planted it while following your instructions.”

  Lark touched the mandrake’s leaves. He knew that once he pulled this plant out of the pot, that seemingly innocent face would glare at him, and cry and scream with all its might.

  “Listen, do you remember the black roots I gave you before?”

  “The mandrake seeds?”

  “Yes, the mandrake seeds. Once the flowers turn crimson, I want you to pull the mandrakes out and cut the roots, leaving only one. Replant the roots immediately afterward. Feed them with blood just like before. Repeat this until you have at least a hundred of these plants.”

  “That many?” mumbled Mores. He nodded. “I understand.”

  Lark pulled out a pouch filled with gold coins and handed it to herbalist. The herbalist took the pouch and peeked at what was inside.

  “T-This much gold!”

  His assistant, Hans, gawked at seeing the gold coins inside.

  “You’ll receive double this once you’ve completed this task,” said Lark. “I’ll leave the mandrakes in your hands.”

  “Please leave it to me, Young Lord!”

  Lark nodded. Entrusting this task to Herbalist Mores was indeed the correct decision.

  In the Magic Empire, medicine concocted from the leaves of a mandrake was a well-known cure for parasitization. It would be really useful against the parasitic demons later on.

  After leaving the herbalist’s house, Lark returned to the Scylla’s lair. The elves were already waiting for him at the castle’s entrance.

  “So, who’s coming with us?” said Lark.

  “The priestess and these warriors, Lord Evander,” said the king.

  King Melandrach, the priestess, Commander Khuumal, and five elven warriors would be riding Blackie, together with Lark, toward the elven kingdom.

  “Blackie, we’re going to the elven kingdom,” Lark said to the Scylla. “And these elves are coming with us.”

  The Scylla looked at the elves below then snorted, blatantly showing it was opposed to them riding on top of it. Still, since this was the will of God Evander, the Scylla had no choice but to accept.

  “As you wish, God Evander.”

  The Scylla lowered its heads and body. After Lark jumped onto its back, the Scylla slowly rose, making it harder for the elves to ride on its back. The elves ended up using wind spirits to climb on top of the Scylla’s body.

  “Do not touch our neck, elves,” said the Scylla in a deep, menacing voice.

  Lark sighed but didn’t reprimand Blackie. He knew that Scyllas were prideful creatures. Letting the elves ride on top of it was already showing them great favor.

  “King Melandrach, Priestess. Please hang on,” said Lark.

  The elves did as Lark had instructed. They clung onto one of the small protruding horns on the Scylla’s back.

  “Blackie, let’s go.”

  “Yes, God Evander!”

  The Scylla roared and flocks of birds flew out of the forest. It opened its wings wide and created a rift on the illusion barrier. It jumped up, flapped its wings, and flew toward the east, the direction of the Kingdom of Aerith.

  VOLUME 7: CHAPTER 12

  Despite the Scylla’s reluctance to let the elves ride on its back, it flew toward the elven kingdom at top speed. Every now and then, the Scylla would grumble and tell the elves not to carelessly touch its scales, that it should just cling onto the small horns protruding on its back.

  For some reason, the Scylla seemed peeved whenever the elves chatted with Lord Evander. Every time the elves laughed along with its God, growls would come from the Scylla’s mouth. Afraid of incurring the seven-headed creature’s wrath, the elves eventually decided to shut their mouths.

  After more than a dozen hours, they finally arrived at the elven kingdom.

  The Scylla landed at the foot of the largest eleven oak in the kingdom. It menacingly glared at the elven warriors below, who immediately surrounded it upon its arrival.

  “Stop,” said a familiar voice.

  The elven warriors looked at the top of the Scylla’s body. Standing there was the King of Elves, the priestess, the commander, and several guards. Beside the king was the infamous human—the alleged God of the Scylla.

  King Melandrach started introducing the unannounced guest, “The Earth Scylla and its mast—”

  “God,” corrected the Scylla.

  King Melandrach coughed. “And its God came here today as our esteemed guests. Lower your bows. Sheath your swords. Show your respect, warriors.”

  The elven warriors looked at each other, before eventually lowering their weapons. They’d heard about the Earth God’s revelation to the priestess. They somehow understood why the seven-headed monster and it’s God had come to their city.

  The warriors opened up a path leading toward the royal palace.

  “Lord Evander, if you please,” said the king.

  “Of course. Please lead the way,” said Lark.

  With the king and the priestess at the lead, Lark entered the royal palace of the elven kingdom. Unlike the king’s castle in the capital, this looked incred
ibly modest. Everything, from the walls to the tables and chairs, was made of wood. Thumb-sized orbs of light, which looked like fairies at first glance, hovered at the ceiling, illuminating everything with bright light. Light spirits. Hundreds of them at that.

  “According to the history passed down by our ancestors, this used to be the burial ground of the elven royal family. This elven oak itself,” said King Melandrach as they made their way toward the highest floor of the palace. “We believe it grew from the body of the first King of Elves.”

  Lark nodded as he appreciated the palace’s simple, yet elegant interior. “It looks amazing, Your Majesty.”

  King Melandrach smiled. He’d noticed before: unlike the Scylla, this human treated them as his equals. “This palace is the pride, the treasure of our kingdom. I believe it’s impossible to see an elven oak larger and sturdier than this one.”

  Lark remembered the elven oaks he’d seen in the Forbidden Region’s labyrinth. Although the elven oaks he’d seen there were larger than most of the elven oaks in this kingdom, they were still a lot smaller compared to this one.

  From the corner of his eye, Lark noticed that the priestess had been stealing glances at him every now and then. Rather than the fear shown by the officials they passed by along the way, her eyes were filled with bewilderment and curiosity.

  “You said that we should install the barrier in the most secure place in the palace,” said King Melandrach. “I believe this is the most suitable place for that, Lord Evander.”

  King Melandrach stopped in front of a large, wooden door guarded by four elven warriors.

  “Open it.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty!”

  The guards pushed the door open, revealing a large room without any windows. It was surprisingly empty, apart from the six human-sized guardian golems standing next to the walls and the thick wooden pillar at the center of the room.

  “These guardian golems will attack anyone that enters this room, unless they’re accompanied by someone from the royal family,” said King Melandrach. “Each of them is strong enough to defeat a hundred elves.”