Chapter 347

"Your Grace. They say the preparations are complete. You must go now."

Duke of Ophir's townhouse located in the capital's suburbs.

The Duke's gloomy face, looking out at the dark window where no one was present, was reflected in the glass.

His face with graying sideburns closely resembled the Queen Dowager who had now departed this world.

The more Duke of Ophir looked at his own face, the more uncontrollable his thoughts about the Queen Dowager, his beloved daughter, became.

He quietly observed himself, aged further by grief, then turned his head.

"...My daughter?"

"My disciples are faithfully guarding her there."

"The great archmage Eibon. He performs magic beyond imagination and is the only one who can go against the natural order, you said."

"That is correct, Your Grace. Among those recorded in history, he is the only one."

"Then, the archmage's teacher would naturally possess magical abilities far surpassing him. Isn't that so?"

"I've heard he commands rather strange things, but I haven't had the opportunity to observe closely."

"We'll be able to find out from now on."

The Duke turned and left his study. The mage followed behind him like an attendant.

As Duke of Ophir walked down the corridor, he thought about how soft and brightly this place, now filled with silence, had once shone.

When his daughter had not yet received the royal castle's summons,

When she had the name 'Heira Ophir' as the most noble lady in Aquilonia excluding the royal family.

How much warmth had overflowed in this house whenever she came up to the capital for the social season.

The days when his daughter's and her maids' laughter sounded more melodious than musical instruments and more sweetly than minstrels' silk-like songs.

But time cruelly did not return,

And his daughter had died in the burning tower without knowing why.

Duke of Ophir intended to restore everything to its original state.

Both the blonde brat who had stolen the power his daughter should rightfully have possessed,

And 'Eibon's teacher' who had fed his daughter poison yet returned alive from the flames.

All of them, all of them would pay the price. He would make them think dying would be more comfortable.

The uncontrollable love the Queen Dowager had expressed toward her adoptive son

Was a trait passed down from father to daughter.

Duke of Ophir, who did not know that his daughter had been blinded by this and pushed herself into danger,

Only writhed with boiling vengeance.

When he was about to descend the stairs with the mage, the old head butler was waiting for him below.

"Your Grace, the guest has arrived."

"Escort them to the reception room."

The Duke gestured to the mage who had been following him.

The mage bowed once and quickly headed to the mansion's basement.

The butler, who had been watching the mages who had begun coming and going more frequently over the past few days, carefully opened his mouth to the Duke.

"Your Grace."

"Say nothing."

"However, there is something I must tell you."

"If you truly served my late daughter with sincerity, you would think you shouldn't say anything. How about it? Do you still have some business with me?"

The butler closed his mouth.

Working at the Duke's townhouse until this age,

One learns how to use one's tongue even a little more wisely.

The butler chose to quietly not go against the Duke's mood.

The Duke passed the bowing butler and headed to the reception room.

The Duke, who had taken his seat first, stared at the door across the empty table.

After what seemed like an eternal wait,

Footsteps quieter than expected began to gradually approach.

The reception room door opened, revealing unmistakably the 'mage'.

Red hair, a veil covering his face.

What was slightly different from when they had seen him at the royal castle was his behavior, which seemed to have recovered considerably in the meantime.

The reception room door closed, and the 'mage' who sat across from Duke of Ophir spoke.

"This is the first time we're having a private meeting. Isn't that so, Your Grace?"

"...I heard you are the teacher of the great archmage Eibon."

"There are many who still don't know that."

"Since we both seem to know everything we need to know about each other, the conversation will be easy. I have the book of yours that the Mage Tower obtained. I heard it's a book you cherish dearly."

"So?"

"Let's make a deal."

"What kind of deal?"

"Revive my daughter."

The mage was silent for a moment.

The Duke was carefully observing what was happening behind the black veil that concealed his face.

The voice that eventually emerged was dry and parched, without a trace of laughter.

"A deal?"

"This is a fair deal."

"A fair deal? Isn't the basic principle of a deal that people should stake each other's possessions? Yet you've plundered what's mine and are urging me to serve you for free using that as pretext. Are you calling this a fair deal?"

"That's right. You may kill me if you don't like the deal. But if you kill me now, you'll never be able to find out where the book is. Just know that much."

"I don't want to see any more blood."

"I feel the same way."

The mage remained silent.

The mage, sitting stiffly in his chair, asked in a sharpened voice.

"You want to revive your daughter, so you cooperated with mages to steal the corpse?"

"That's right."

"Even knowing that reviving the dead is something never permitted in this country? What did you plan to do if I didn't accept your proposal?"

"I would have sought other methods. Of course, you are a great mage, but I also have mages with excellent capabilities."

"You don't know what it means to return from death."

"I've never died, so naturally I don't know. But I know well the heart of the living who need the dead."

"I heard you have doubts about your daughter's death. Do you plan to revive her to get answers to the questions you've been harboring?"

"I won't do that. I swear on that alone."

Duke of Ophir's eyes, resembling the Queen's, stared at the mage.

"I simply want to see my daughter one more time. I don't think that's a sin."

He didn't know what aspect of Duke of Ophir's answer had touched the mage,

But he slowly tapped the armrest with his gloved hand.

Eventually the mage opened his mouth.

"Let me see your daughter's condition."

* * *

Upon seeing Duke of Ophir, he ridiculously found himself pitying him.

A father who had lost his daughter.

The struggles of the living trying to revive the dead.

He and the Duke were strangely similar.

He was trying to return with his younger sibling who was somewhere in this world,

And Duke of Ophir was simply doing his best to revive his lost family.

Was that why?

What should have ended with conversation in the reception room, he had unknowingly even said he would look at the Queen Dowager's condition.

Of course, it wasn't like he actually had a way to revive her.

He intended to refuse the Queen Dowager's resurrection by citing reasons like the corpse being too damaged.

Then wouldn't Duke of Ophir understand to some degree and return the book?

Also, he could inform Dardin and Yurik where the Queen Dowager's corpse was.

As soon as his permission was given, Duke of Ophir called the butler to prepare lamps and someone to guide the way.

They exited through the back door of the Duke's townhouse. He had expected horses to be prepared, but there were none.

Moreover, the person prepared to guide the way was.

"We need to walk a bit. Night fog is starting to set in, so be careful of your footing."

Though the veil obstructed his vision making it hard to see clearly, those fluttering sleeves were definitely what Aquilonia's mages favored wearing.

Though Dardin had informed him, he hadn't expected them to so blatantly reveal the collusive relationship between Duke of Ophir's family and the mages.

He, the Duke, and the mage holding the lamp slowly proceeded down the dark path.

Not long after, the flat road became undulating and stones began catching their feet.

Though his night vision was poor making it hard to see clearly, he was certain they weren't taking a normal route.

The hem of his robe dragged on the ground and hindered his steps, but he forced himself to endure it without showing it. He was also beginning to get out of breath, only hoping that Duke of Ophir wouldn't hear his panting.

After walking for what felt like an hour, sweat began to soak his back.

Duke of Ophir, who was in front of him, glanced back and said.

"It seems your injuries haven't healed yet."

"Do you know the term 'elder abuse,' Your Grace?"

"Your voice is quite young. So much so that I doubt whether you're truly Eibon's teacher."

He thought, hey! He only didn't age on the outside! If you counted by age alone, he was their ancestor!

Someone who hadn't even been to the ancient species' garden, where did they get off calling him young?

His insides boiled and he wanted to kick the Duke,

But from the Duke's perspective, it was something he had truly said without knowing his age, so he had no choice but to endure it.

While glaring at his back and forcing himself to follow, the mage handed the lamp to the Duke and stepped aside.

The Duke's face looked even more wrinkled and aged in the faint lamplight.

"Let me say in advance, even before this incident occurred, the Mage Tower's mages and I were conducting various research. About life and death, and eternal youth."

"With the Mage Tower's mages?"

"Don't misunderstand. Would I have known such a thing would happen? The research we've been conducting was purely to overcome the limitations of the human body. Immortality and eternal youth are dreams that any human possesses."

"......"

"However, in that process, we came to realize that death from human aging is somewhat inevitable. While people engage in life activities, they consume their own bodies. Consumption and activity are connected to each other, and we couldn't stop just one."

"I see. But what's the reason you're telling me this story now?"

"Mage, to be honest, I was surprised when I heard rumors about you. If it's true that you are Eibon's teacher, then you are the true specimen of longevity that the mages and I have been pursuing. Young, not aging, and even when alive, not consuming yourself."

"Do you want to dissect me?"

"I can't say I don't have such desires. But let me be clear that I won't do so. If the only specimen dies, our research will never make progress. Instead."

He turned his back on him and took the path.

He too followed Duke of Ophir toward the area overgrown with small branches and bushes,

But soon stopped because of the numerous shadows he encountered under the dim moonlight.

Bleak fog crawling across the ground.

Poisonous plants had grown wild in the soggy earth,

And a faint rotten smell drifted in the stagnant air.

The tombstones jutting up from the ground were covered with broken and crumbling letters.

Dark red spiders passed over green moss,

And graves that had once been dug up revealed only empty bottoms, remaining silent about the whereabouts of the corpses they should have originally held.

And in the middle of such a cemetery,

Dozens of mages were waiting.

Gazes that seemed like vigilance or longing glittered from under their pulled-up hoods.

The Duke, pointing at them, continued speaking.

"Teach us."

"...What teaching?"

"Don't you know everything? Tell us how to raise the dead and bring youth to the aged. Revive my daughter. We have spent time equivalent to merely a human lifetime, but you are different, aren't you? If you are truly Eibon's teacher, prove it before us."

The Duke opened the way.

He walked slowly. The mages, all the mages present, stepped back maintaining a certain distance from him.

Though it was behavior born from reverence, such things didn't matter now.

When the mages stepped back, an altar became visible.

The moment he saw the figure lying on top of it, he felt like retching.

If it weren't for the burial dress she wore, it would have been difficult to recognize her as the Queen Dowager.

He felt sick. As he instinctively stepped backward while covering his mouth, he stepped on something.

Something hard and somehow unpleasant.

When he looked down, blue fingers were sticking out from under his shoe. Yellow, cracked nails, a hand severed from the wrist and left without its owner.

He looked around.

Among the weeds and poisonous plants, and the low-lying fog, many things were hidden. Spiders, moss, maggots, eyes, heads, arms and legs, people, people, scattered pieces, unconnected fragments.

Suddenly his dizziness intensified. The world curved and became wavy. The tinnitus had been getting stronger for some time now.

Immortality. Eternal youth. To continue living. For human desire. For impossible dreams.

The circle drawn by masses of nameless flesh. The altar placed in the center. The mages. The Queen Dowager who would be the subject of the ritual.

This was not a design within the range of human imagination.

The cause of this thoroughly inhuman act was,

"You people finally..."

Because they had touched what should not be touched.

In the arms of one of those who came into his view,

Was a book he had once only glimpsed at.

A grimoire written by Eibon.

The unknown mage who felt his gaze smiled wickedly while showing this. It was a disgusting smile.

"O great teacher of the great archmage. Please work a miracle with your hands."

The mages gradually closed in.

A miracle. Ancient mystery.

The ominous ritual now abolished. A miracle for the worshippers of truth!

The madness that crawled up from the depths of humanity cried out. Those who had acquired what should not be read flew toward greater wisdom like a swarm of mayflies.

What stood before them was not great mystery,

But merely the sun that would burn their bodies.

He thought, you're all crazy. Everyone's gone mad!

In their shouting, all he could do was barely scream while suppressing his nausea.

"Aphoom-Zhah!"

Help me, save me!

As soon as the words ended, someone whispered.

[I was waiting for you to call this body. My believer.]

A cold sensation forcibly lowered his eyelids.

The next moment, gray pupils flashed white from behind the veil.