Chapter 31: Um, I don't think I like goblin parties very much…

Upper Fire Month, 16th Day, 600 AGG

"Your Majesty."

"Not a word," Draudillon raised her palm to silence whatever dry observation Martin might make. Yuriko nodded in somber agreement. "Not. A single. Word."

She was never going to eat goblin cuisine ever again. Ever.

Draudillon praised the her of a few hours ago for having the foresight to slip on a Ring of Poison Immunity.

"Very well," the Prime Minister bowed with commendable poise. "I suppose Your Majesty and Lady Yuriko would also like for me to remain silent regarding the blood that is dripping onto the carpets."

"I am aware," Draudillon accepted a plain, hand-length steel scepter with four symbols etched into it from the angel. Apparently, Yuriko had asked for a few recently approved units from the overworked spellcasters of the Draconic Kingdom's Magicians' Guild responsible for inspecting the magic items left behind by the beastmen occupiers. "Wait, why didn't we use these earlier?"

"Ack," Yuriko winced as she waved a duplicate of the scepter Draudillon was holding around. "I, I forgot?『Clean』. "

The blood and fur soiling Draudillon's body vanished like they had never been there at all. Yuriko repeated the casting twice more on herself and the carpet before putting it back in her Item Box, three of the four symbols having lost their light.

"Sorry, I just," the angel gestured at their own head with a red face. "It slipped my mind. I should've—"

"Don't apologize," Draudillon twirled the scepter around in her hand. "It's been an eventful day for both of us, after all. By the way, this is the… General Multipurpose Tool, correct?"

'A mouthful of a name. I should ask the Magicians' Guild if they can come up with a shorter designation—focus.'

"Ohhhh, that's what it's called," Yuriko smacked her fist against her palm in understanding. "It's the, um, thingy that has four casts per-day!"

"Indeed," Draudillon's mouth curved down in a slight frown. "『Clean』, 『Mending』, and some variation of 『Floating Board』."

All useful spells in the operations of a livestock-processing complex. A tool that had four uses per-day and could cycle between three spells—even if they were low tier ones—was incredibly valuable; it was a feat that spoke volumes of the Beastman Country's strength and wealth.

In spite of that, looking at the magic item was unpleasant.

"How many did we recover?" Draudillon pushed the hateful thoughts out of mind. "I'm afraid the exact number eludes me."

"Shoot, I think I got a report about that somewhere…" Yuriko rummaged through a pile of papers pulled from the void. "A hundred so far. Uh, that is, from each city!"

"Incredible," Martin said with a mildly shaken undertone. "Two hundred total of just these. There are many other magic items as well, are there not, Your Majesty?"

"Mostly stasis containers, temperature regulators, water generators, and other things that suited their, ahem. Purposes."

Yuriko awkwardly shifted her feet. "Y-Yeah. There's some of those too."

"An impressive windfall," Martin reached out his hand towards the angel's report. Yuriko passed it over, and the Prime Minister quickly read over the papers. "Given the state of the kingdom, does Your Majesty think we ought to sell the bulk of these items?"

Draudillon considered the idea for a moment. Their economy was recovering—slowly, to be sure, but surely—although with a significant chunk of their resources being devoted to the resettlement of the displaced along with the chaos that was restoring the administration of the east, the Treasury was ironically emptier than ever before.

At least they didn't have to rebuild everything from scratch. There were some bits of infrastructure that needed to be moved around or outright removed, but the beastmen had left most of the two cities intact.

Small mercies, Draudillon supposed.

"Keep the stasis containers and a few units of the other items," the dragon queen decided. "Those will help us if our eastern territories end up facing a food crisis. The rest, while it is a shame, is better off sold. Have we received a response from the Empire yet? Countess Tierref should have returned a while ago."

"A few problems have arisen for the Empire's war," Martin dryly replied. "The Crown Prince of Re-Estize has passed away recently. In fact, that's why I was waiting for Your Majesty's return."

"What?" Frustration welled up inside Draudillon's heart. Suddenly assassinating a high ranking member of any royal family was a good way to get on the bad side of every nation within earshot. More importantly, this was going to have a disastrous effect on grain prices—grain the Draconic Kingdom desperately needed. "Whose work is this? Jircniv wouldn't be so stupid and ruin his campaign this far in."

"On the bright side, the Empire will have a greater demand for items to assist with their supply lines," Martin stroked his chin while intensely gazing at the inventory report. "This could be a good chance for us to sell the magical items that have passed inspection at a considerable markup."

"Erm," Yuriko interjected. "I don't know much about what's going on and why they're fighting, but shouldn't we do something about it?"

"We'll talk about that later, Martin. Also, Yuriko. It's complicated," Draudillon bit the tip of her thumb. No one with any meaningful authority would believe that the Empire was the one responsible for the assassination. Then that meant… "In all honesty, the people of Re-Estize would be better off if the Empire conquered their kingdom."

'Re-Estize has long been plagued with divisions among their noble houses. If they remained in such a state, Jircniv could have easily crushed or subsumed them,' Draudillon came to a grim realization. 'But now their nobility will band together out of fear from this unknown element they cannot bargain with. Furthermore, I can't imagine King Ramposa being in the most rational state of mind either.'

"Oh, hm," Yuriko fell into deep contemplation. "I didn't know things were that bad over there… I guess we shouldn't run in there without a good plan and make things worse, right?"

Draudillon's heart warmed at how the angel chose to say 'we.' "Exactly. We lack too many critical details to make any informed decisions. Choosing to intervene now while our own kingdom is still in recovery would help no one."

Yuriko bobbed her head in understanding—or what Draudillon hoped was understanding—even while Martin surreptitiously wiped the sweat off his forehead in relief.

'Someone wants to incite greater conflict. But who? The Theocracy wouldn't support such a massive loss of human life, the Holy Kingdom would be laughable as a suspect, the Wyvern Rider Tribes keep to themselves, Karnassus has had a positive relationship with the Empire for a while now, and the Council States almost never interfere in the politics of this region. It could be some shadowy group like the one entrenched in Re-Estize, but why would they want to shake up a comfortable status quo? In that case, the simplest answer is—'

"Ah," Draudillon resisted the urge to curse the Re-Estize Kingdom out loud. She'd do that later, in private. "That's how it is?"

"That's how what is?" Yuriko tilted her head in confusion, light-blonde hair cascading to the side. Martin's expression grew grave as he came to a similar conclusion. "Uh, I feel like I'm not getting something here…"

"It's someone from Re-Estize," Draudillon let out a disbelieving laugh. "It's someone from their own damn nation."

"Unacceptable," Isoleiryx hissed in agony as he carefully extracted the warped portion of his own soul and released the contaminated essence into the World. "Unacceptable!"

Essence crystallization hadn't been enough. Even lowly Night Liches had been able to escape the prototype spell—though at least his finalized Variable Space-Disruption Propagator worked just fine against their teleportation spells—along with its gaseous and liquid variants. He needed a process that would not only entrap the Player's summons, but also prevent the possibility of them being recalled.

So he made something stronger based on principles similar to the Disruption Propagator's. Something more potent.

Apparently potent enough to begin twisting his soul to shreds if he casted it directly.

"Damn that fool to oblivion," Isoleiryx inspected his soul; the damage he had inadvertently dealt to himself was minor and would thankfully recover by itself. It was still an incredibly frustrating nuisance though. "To refuse to even assist with testing."

He scorned the Platinum Dragon Lord from the bottom of his heart; it was utterly nonsensical for such a cowardly being to call himself the keeper of the World. Here was a prime opportunity to rid their home of some of the filth that polluted it, and Vaision had the gall to refuse?

And so the son takes after the father, Isoleiryx sneered with no small amount of derision. It didn't matter—he didn't need the help of trash like Tsaindorcus Vaision to accomplish his goal anyways.

"If I cannot cast this directly," he glanced at the pile of mind-bending geometries and suppressed a shudder. They looked wrong before his improvements, but now they were positively unnerving. "Then perhaps by proxy?"

It was a worthwhile but unfeasible idea. Where in the world would he find someone willing to shred their own soul? His brethren weren't an option—forget about his soul, they would shred his body for even suggesting it.

'The failures?' Isoleiryx's eyes narrowed. 'They're not the most optimal vessels, but the amount of control I can exert over them balances that out… besides, I'm already in the process of testing their general combat prowess. Running another experiment in parallel with that would be efficient.'

"Bring out the failures," Isoleiryx commanded the golem assistants on stand-by. "Two from each category. Check the blood pool's essence concentration and replace it if it's below the threshold."

With a few modifications, he should be able to use them to offset the dangers of casting the spell. By shifting the burden of the essence restructuring to a different origin, he'd ideally be able to use it with impunity for so long as the Dragon Homunculi had essence to spare.

'I'll have to increase their holding capacity for souls, given the number of summons the Player has already accumulated,' Isoleiryx's mind raced with possibilities. 'Could I apply the 『Light-Bending Cloak』 to them as well? No, that would be adding unnecessary points of failure to their design.'

"A suitable testing ground will be required as well," the Dragon Lord announced to himself in the depths of the mountain. "Seeing as low-grade Dragon Homunculi are already being stress-tested in that beastmen nation, I may as well continue there."

The Dragon Lords of old—those who predated the folly of the Dragon Emperor and still held onto a connection with the World—tended to stay in their own domains. If he were to perform his tests elsewhere, it would not be an impossibility for him to come into conflict with one of them.

Either way, he had created the Vahasi Republic, so it was his to do as he pleased without the interference of his peers. Additionally, there was the added benefit of a race of psionically-inclined arachnoids living within the beastmen nation's borders.

'One task at a time,' Isoleiryx admonished himself. 'There will always be another chance to start a second project with the Mac'tal later.'

The Dragon Lord scanned the map laid out on one of the neatly arranged platforms in his laboratory. It would be interesting to see how a large population center would react to the higher-grade homunculi, but the chances of his involvement in the region being revealed was too great.

"Load them into the crates," Isoleiryx commanded the golems that had just returned with the pulsating, glowing masses of flesh that called out for him. Ignoring the bothersome sounds, he pointed at another group of golems. "Prepare the waygate."

He watched as the silent automatons guided the gibbering abominations into large crates enchanted with weight-reduction enchantments while the others stoically installed teal-green crystals with streaks of pink on the grooves carved upon a vast metallic circle.

'The beastmen created something similar for their revolting tier magic,' Isoleiryx mused. 'It's regrettable I wasn't able to create a perfect version for Wild Magic, but this is enough to suit my purposes.'

The waygates were astronomically inefficient in their essence consumption because of the impurities in the crystals they burned in the process; however, the reason Isoleiryx still chose to employ this method was that it saved much more time compared to repeatedly teleporting back and forth. Moreover, he was able to store essence in the crystals beforehand, allowing him to preserve his current stores.

Unfortunately, this also had the side effect of rendering them non-reusable unlike their tier magic counterparts.

'I'm running low,' he suddenly remembered. 'Enough for… three transportations, maybe four. I'll have to go and capture more Mac'tal Weblings. Weblords if I can find any.'

How troublesome.

He'd have to go and acquire some more raw materials.

"Are you two certain that they left trails there?" The First Seat of the Black Scripture squinted at the vast jungle that lay beyond the cliff where they were resting. "We don't have any information on that jungle."

"All of our enhanced auguries and divinations are pointing to this location, Sir," Clarisse removed her Mask of Stoicism with a sigh. "If you would forgive my boldness, we don't have much else to go on."

"No, it's fine. I just wanted to make sure," Etillen and Clarisse startled as he lowered his head in apology. "It would be great if we didn't have to dive into that place without any knowledge of it, but since we don't have a choice, we'll just have to make do with what we have."

"O-Of course, Sir! Please raise your head; there's no need to apologize to us—!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Divine Chant snapped at the pair from the Clearwater Scripture. "This guy is always like this, so you better get used to it already!"

She turned her head and gave a nasty side-eye to the First Seat. "So are we gonna go or what? We've been at this shit for like nine days already. Makes me just a liiiittle fucking worried for all the bastards back home, y'know?"

"Raymond would've sent a『Message』in the case of an emergency," the First Seat pointed out, laying aside his stygian spear. "The fact that we haven't received one yet is proof of their safety."

"We should hurry. 『Summon Beast』," Quaiesse whistled. A few seconds later, the group saw a large bird with a vicious appearance and blood-red pinions fly towards them from the horizon. "I'll send the Crimson Owl to scout ahead. The rest of you should prepare to head down."

"Tch," Divine Chant got up with a grunt of annoyance. "Who the hell died and made you the boss, huh?"

Quaiesse ignored her without a single change in his bearing, instead choosing to focus on the Crimson Owl that he had sent into the thick of the canopy.

The First Seat shook his head with a helpless expression as he shot an imploring look at Cedran.

The sturdy vanguard wryly smiled back and picked up his own belongings, putting the nonessentials back into his Bag of Holding.

"We'll head for the forest then," the First Seat walked ahead on the path that Quaiesse had mapped out earlier. "Quaiesse, you coming?"

"Yes," the Summoner quickly and smoothly packed up before joining his comrades. "The owl hasn't seen anything particularly dangerous near the edge of the forest."

"Particularly?" The First Seat raised an eyebrow at the phrasing.

"I didn't recognize many of the plants," Quaiesse confessed. "It's possible that some of them are of the more… exotic variety."

"Great," Divine Chant complained. "Killer plants. What's next? Giant lizards and man-eating tribals?"

"It's not like we aren't used to those things already," the First Seat tried to joke. "Remember that one time in Tob—"

"With all due respect, Captain," Divine Chant rudely cut him off with a raised palm. "Your jokes are trash. Keep them to yourself."

"..." he closed his mouth, a faint red burning on his face.

"Don't take it too hard," Cedran sympathetically clapped a gauntleted hand over his shoulder and rumbled. "She's just worried about us."

'She's got a funny way of showing it,' the First Seat groused in his head. "Yeah, I know. It's been a difficult time for everybody."

He shot a quick peek at Quaiesse. The blonde red-eyed man didn't react at all.

The First Seat let out a small breath. For the past nine days, the Fifth Seat had remained unusually—well, considering the circumstances, it wasn't really unusual—cold: a stark contrast to his typical genial self.

There wasn't a good way to approach the issue, though that didn't stop the First Seat from trying. Nowadays, it felt awkward to even mention anything unrelated to the task at hand.

"The owl died," Quaiesse didn't sound very surprised. None of them were. Something like a Crimson Owl which only had a difficulty rating that was slightly below sixty would naturally die quickly in a place like the center of the continent. "Couple of kilometers in. Keep your eyes open."

The First Seat tightened his grasp on Lughbhair as they finally approached the rim of the vast and tangled woodland. "Cedran. Stay here with Fourth and the diviners. Quaiesse, could you back me up?"

"Something that's stealthy and can hold things down," the Fifth Seat mumbled, a flash of light briefly shining forth from one of the ten rings he wore. "We'll go with a Umbra Webweaver then."

The light dimmed, revealing a massive spider almost as large as its summoner. Wisps of shadow emanated from its pitch-dark exoskeleton, causing the two diviners to blink and look past it while Cedran and Divine Chant struggled in their attempts to focus on the magical arachnid.

Despite being out in the wide open, it was a monster that was difficult to detect if one did not possess outstanding senses. With this, they should be able to catch most foes off guard even in situations where suitable cover was unavailable.

"Well," the First Seat wryly grinned. "Wish me luck."

"As if you need any," Divine Chant scoffed under her breath. The First Seat wondered if she'd get mad if he laughed right now.

"Stay alert," Quaiesse's eyes hardened in seriousness. "You're strong, but there's no telling what kind of monsters are hiding in a jungle this big."

The First Seat silently gave a thumbs up and a smile before turning to face the verdurous expanse. There was a sense of… excitement. Excitement that came with exploring the unknown.

'Leave exploration for the other Scriptures,' he felt a minute amount of disappointment well up inside him. "Of course. I'll be back before you know it."

"You have a 『Message』 scroll with you?" The First Seat nodded to Quaiesse's inquiry. "Good. We'll have Etillen and Clarisse contact you every fifteen minutes. If you find anything relevant to our task, return or contact us immediately."

"No problem," with those parting words, he hauled the Umbra Webweaver over his shoulder and dashed into the maw of the jungle, a specter of speed that breezed through the trees and underbrush alike. After a few kilometers or so, he slowed down to a stop.

He was being watched.

The Webweaver hopped off and faded into the background scenery as the First Seat narrowed his eyes.

'『Eyes in the Back』, 『Strengthen Perception』, 『Uncanny Reflex』,' his already impressive awareness expanded, allowing him to notice even the smallest details within a considerable range. At the same time, his body was pulled taut, ready to evade and respond to any attack the second before it came.

A roar resounded in the distance, and he saw foliage shift on a tree a few hundred meters away.

It was incredibly difficult to resist the urge to fire a 『Sky-Piercing Fang』at the tree in question. Instead, he chose to call out to whoever might be observing him.

"Hello?!" The First Seat sheathed his spear and cupped his hands around his mouth as he shouted. "Anyone there?! I'm looking for a guide to lead me in this jungle!"

"Trespasser," he suddenly saw unblinking gray eyes staring at him from the treetops. The First Seat smiled in self-mockery. Even his superior senses were unable to see through objects, though he could at least rest in the consolation that he had known they were hiding there. "For what purpose have you intruded upon our lands?"

"I apologize," the First Seat raised his hands in a show of peace. "But these lands are foreign to me, and I did not know I had stepped foot in your territories."

"You would come to the jungle blind?" The scratchy voice sounded amused. "The Devagathapur does not suffer fools."

'It's hard to make them out from behind all the boughs and branches,' he calmly analyzed the situation. 'There's around six of them—three that I can see and three that are hiding a little further back. Not sure if they can make out the Webweaver though.'

The First Seat didn't think that any of the unseen strangers were stronger than him. That being said, it was better to remain polite and cautious while he was still at a numerical and territorial disadvantage.

"Strange occurrences have been plaguing our home," the voice lowered, carrying a hint of deadly intent. "Outsiders like you who bring nothing but death and misery."

'Are they referring to the traitor and her allies?' He decided to take a shot in the dark. "Actually, I'm here to bring these outsiders you speak of to justice."

"Then whoever sent you is a fool," a different voice cruelly chuckled. "For they have delivered you to your death."

"Who knows?" His fingers inched towards his godly relic. "Maybe that's just how tough our common enemy is."

"How can we trust your words?" The sharp gray eyes narrowed. "You have provided no guarantee, no proof of your sincerity. Do you really think us to be so foolish, hairless one?"

'Damn it, Quaiesse would've been better for this,' he really didn't want to make an enemy out of the local natives this quickly. "Well, one ought to extend trust first in order to receive it in return, don't you think?"

"Enough of this farce," the second voice let out a bestial growl. Demihumans then? At least he wouldn't feel too bad afterwards. "We should rip his flesh to scraps and feed upon the remains. It'll be a kinder fate than the mercy of the beast gods."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the First Seat warned as he smoothly requipped Lughbhair. "There's no need for us to fight, you know."

"Do not presume—!"

"Silence!" A shout came from the third pair of eyes. "Do you all not see how relaxed he is? For someone who claims to have no knowledge of the Devagathapur, he is remarkably unbothered."

"I was telling the truth when I said this jungle is unfamiliar to me," the First Seat hurriedly cleared away a potential misunderstanding. "As well as when I spoke of my purpose in coming here."

The third pair flicked to and fro before returning back to him. "You speak of truth, but you have said nothing of the beast that stalks behind you in the undergrowth."

'Shit,' if they were able to see through the Umbra Webweaver's 『Penumbral Presence』, then it was likely they were some sort of powerful ranger or in the worst case scenario, a being of his caliber.

'They haven't mentioned the others,' the First Seat forcibly calmed himself down with a Martial Art. 'Either their awareness doesn't stretch that far, or they're concealing the full range of their abilities.'

"The jungle is a dangerous place," he shrugged with a nonchalance he didn't feel. "Would you really fault me for bringing along some backup?"

"… Very well. We have no desire for needless conflict either," the leaves shook as the demihuman leapt down from the branch. Her fellows swiftly followed her example. "I am Giaraju of the Seperati, denizens of the Devagathapur. And you, traveler?"

'Zoastia?' The First Seat considered the female demihuman and her ilk before him. Their humanoid body structure in addition to their feline appearance—with the exception of the rosettes speckling their bodies—were uncannily similar to the Zoastia tribes of the Abelion Hills. 'No, she isn't as strongly built. A derivative race then? One focusing more on dexterity and agility instead of brute strength?'

"I'm Ilislev Kestava," The First Seat silently apologized to the priest friend of his civilian persona. Hopefully, they didn't recognize that name, otherwise he'd be forced to wipe out the demihuman tribe later to cover the Theocracy's tracks. "From a distant land to track down a traitor that my homeland suspects has taken refuge within this jungle."

"If they wish to remain hidden, you will not find them," Giaraju bluntly replied. "That is, if they have not already been claimed by the jungle."

"Don't worry about that," he returned Lughbhair to its sheath with a flourish. "I'm pretty good at finding people."

'Well,' he apologized to his comrades in his thoughts. 'You guys are, but I'm not sure if it's completely safe yet.'

Any other party would have deemed it idiotic to split themselves in the way the headhunting force had. However, that was because those parties did not have him.

If they came across something in the jungle that could evenly challenge the Captain of the Black Scripture and weren't prepared, then death was the obvious outcome for the rest of his comrades. Thus, they decided to send him first as a vanguard to acquire first-hand information that Quaiesse's summons and the Clearwater diviners could not.

"Follow us," Giaraju whirled around and beckoned for him to come. "We'll take you to our village and see if your deeds can keep up with your mouth."

"Khuni, you cannot be thinking of allowing this outsider—"

"He may be the answer to our problem," Giaraju interrupted the protesting demihuman. "If his enemies are truly the death gods desecrating our lands, then it would be unwise of us to turn away his help."

"An outsider to solve our outsider problem," a male leopardman that the First Seat recognized as the one who had called for his death snorted. "The gods have an awful sense of humor."

"Nice to meet you too," the First Seat muttered under his breath. Death gods? Could that possibly be referring to Zurrernorn?

"Enough arguing," Giaraju's tail whipped around in impatience. "Beast gods draw closer with every word you fools waste. We must leave."

'Beast gods, huh?'

Maybe Quaiesse would cheer up once he heard about that.

With that thought in mind, the First Seat trailed after the leopard-like demihumans into the great unknown.