The Sunken Ship (1)

Brand searched among the vast collection of books and found a hidden drawer inside a bookshelf. Inside, he discovered a memorandum and a safe.

“This is incredible. Without a guide, it would’ve taken me about five hundred years to find this.”

Mediam admired the sheer number of books.

It was fortunate that Brand had returned to his senses at such a crucial moment. Otherwise, they would have wasted all their time rummaging through the library.

“Count Garnahaer—it’s hard to believe after seeing him only in his old age, but in his youth, he was an exceptionally intelligent and talented man. A highly promising noble.”

“That’s hard to believe.”

“Growing old is like that. Before you realize it, you change little by little every single day.”

Brand reflected on the past with pain in his eyes before approaching the lectern and beginning to transcribe.

“I’ll copy the important parts of the Count’s memorandum for you. The sections about the Emperor’s Treasury.”

In his youth, Count Garnahaer had traveled far and wide in search of the Emperor’s Treasury, leaving behind records of his journey. It was said that he had come quite close to finding it and had even obtained treasures related to it, including the Emperor’s key.

“Let’s see….”

Azadine took the transcribed pages Brand handed him and began to read.

“Where the thrones of Arangi and Banreung intersect. In the land where the serpent coils twice, the remnants of an ancient waterfall mark the gates of an old kingdom. Here, an ancient master craftsman, under contract with the Emperor, forged the keys to the treasure. There are two keys—one held by the King of the Old Hills and the other by the King of the Ancient Forge, both sworn in loyalty to the Emperor. When the Age of Jupiter approaches, the Emperor has arranged for the power to safeguard humanity. The keys allow entry, but the treasury will truly open only in the Age of Jupiter when the Emperor deems it necessary.”

Azadine clicked his tongue after reading it.

“What does this even mean? The keys grant access, but the treasury won’t open unless it’s the right time?”

“As you can see, there are two keys. What Arael took was only one of them, so there’s no need to worry too much.”

“No need to worry? That’s the problem.”

No matter how one looked at it, Arael had already secured one of the two keys.

On top of that, Arael had many capable subordinates, and she herself was an incredibly powerful magician. Azadine had no room for complacency.

“The Count went through so much trouble obtaining that key, trying to open the Emperor’s Treasury, but he ultimately failed.”

“Arael fancies herself a goddess, so she’s probably more capable than the Count.”

“Hahaha. From what I see, Azadine, you are quite an exceptional individual yourself. Take these treasures the Count stored with his memorandum. They are dwarven relics—perhaps even more valuable than the keys themselves.”

Brand took out an orange pen, a black armguard, and a chainmail gauntlet and handed them to Azadine.

“This pen is the Flame Script Pen. When heated with fire, it allows the user to inscribe magic flame runes.”

Brand held the pen’s tip over a candle flame, then wrote on the blade of his poleaxe. Instantly, fiery letters danced across the weapon, and the edge of the axe ignited on its own.

“Not bad.”

“To be honest, it’s not that useful. You have to keep a fire burning for it to work, and well, when a blade enters someone’s skull, they die anyway, don’t they?”

After all, enchanting a weapon with flames didn’t change the fact that a direct hit with a blade was already lethal. One could try using it to heat a weapon and transfer that heat through armor, but there was rarely an opportunity to press a weapon against an opponent’s armor long enough for that to matter.

“That’s true for melee weapons.”

For the Messenger Clan, who primarily used bows, however, it was a different story. The ability to imbue arrows with flames without expending mana was incredibly useful.

“The armguard is the Shadow Shield Armguard. It’s quite impressive. And the gauntlet is the Gauntlet of Strength. These are all treasures of the Dwarven King—priceless, but they’re yours now. They’ll undoubtedly help you in your search for the Emperor’s Treasury.”

“Magical artifacts, huh? Let’s see.”

Azadine put on the Gauntlet of Strength and lifted the massive bronze lectern beside the library.

It lifted easily.

But Azadine was already physically enhanced through Kazas Grimoire, so it was hard to tell if the gauntlet made a difference.

“…It’s useless for me. The gauntlet’s magic seems to enhance the body, but it’s clashing with the distorted magic of my Grimoire.”

“Still, these are valuable items. Are you sure you can give them to me without consulting Sir Guillaumevalt?”

“If you plan to open the Emperor’s Treasury, you’ll need these to earn the trust of the dwarves. Of course, they’re valuable in their own right, but Sir Guillaumevalt isn’t such a rigid man. You know that.”

“You broke his poleaxe in half. He probably doesn’t have much rigidity left.”

“Haha, that’s true. But all jokes aside, Sir Guillaumevalt will become an outstanding Count. He’ll be a far greater ruler than his father ever was.”

Brand, despite once trying to kill Guillaumevalt, now praised him highly.

“I agree with that. But still, I’ll consult with him before taking these.”

“You’re quite the principled man.”

“More importantly, what do you plan to do from here, Sir Brand?”

“I will stay here, assist Sir Guillaumevalt, hold a funeral for my children, and search for any surviving relatives who may have escaped.”

With those words, Brand bowed deeply to Azadine in gratitude.

“Azadine of the Messenger Clan. I cannot thank you enough. When I was lost in madness, I don’t know if it was mere delusion or a vision granted by the spirits of insanity, but I saw you as a knight among knights, a great hero revered by all.”

“…….”

The Madman’s Vision—there was a worldly superstition that the ravings of lunatics often turned out to be prophecies.

The prophecy of the Age of Jupiter was one such fearsome omen, spoken of by the insane.

According to the laws of the King’s Church, anyone who spoke of the Age of Jupiter was to be executed. Yet, these executions were rarely carried out, as harming a mad prophet was believed to bring misfortune.

And now, a man who had once been lost to madness was predicting that Azadine would become a great hero.

“A hero, you say?”

Azadine smirked bitterly.

“I only saw it in my delirium, so whether it was a delusion or a vision, I cannot say. But may all the angels bless your path. I pray that fortune will follow you, always….”

Brand bowed deeply once again, his gratitude sincere.

“Why do I feel like I’m being used too conveniently here?”

Shati was casting a regeneration spell on Guillaumevalt’s arm, securing it with a splint to keep it stable.

“Ugh…! Ah, it itches terribly!”

“Don’t scratch it. It’ll bleed. The itching is in your bones, so scratching your skin won’t help. I should wrap this thicker. Really, warm-blooded creatures have no regenerative ability. Just because you broke a few bones, you’re already whining.”

“Hmm. Have you considered staying in Lantarique?”

“Are you all treating me like some kind of walking healing potion? Maybe take better care of your bodies? I need to leave. This is the magic of the Kurt God Clan. No matter how vast the power of the Kurt Gods is, those who serve the Yaegas God Tribe should at least have the decency to refrain from abusing it.”

“It’s not just that… We don’t have anything left to extract from you, and you’ve already been branded a traitor by the Nagas. Going back would only bring you suffering, wouldn’t it?”

“They’ll understand if I explain.”

“Are the Nagas really such a forgiving organization?”

“…….”

Shati knew full well that her fate was already twisted beyond repair. Unless she returned with a copy of the Heavenly King’s Book of Truth, she would never be forgiven.

‘Wait… didn’t I lose the Heavenly King’s Book of Truth to that bastard? I’d need at least three—no, even more than that….’

While she was deep in thought, Azadine emerged from the study.

“Shati. You’ve finished healing, right?”

“Yeah. Though his arm will stay broken for about two weeks. Still, compared to the slow natural healing ability of warm-blooded creatures, he should be grateful.”

“I see. Well then, take care, Count of Lantarique.”

“Where are you going?”

“Arael’s group stole the key, so I need to report back. I’ll return to my clan and speak with a higher authority. If possible, I’ll find a way to remove the Curse of Servitude.”

“Will that be alright?”

“I can say with certainty—it will be lifted.”

“What?”

“Arael lured me in with the promise of freeing me from the curse. Unless the Elder Council is stupid enough to keep using the curse as a weapon, they’ll agree. And they’re not that foolish.”

Guillaumevalt was taken aback by Azadine’s confidence.

‘That’s a strong possibility, sure. But it’s his own fate, his own life on the line, and yet he’s making decisions based purely on logic? This man is incredible. His martial prowess is one thing, but what’s truly terrifying is his courage and intellect. The Messenger Clan is truly frightening.’

“Oh, and I almost forgot—your father’s study contained some Dwarven relics. Master Brand thought it wouldn’t be an issue if we took them. But I figured I should at least inform you.”

“Take them.”

“I haven’t even told you what they are yet.”

“The things you’ve done for me far exceed any debt I owe. Why would I begrudge you anything? Besides, if Sir Brand says they’re necessary for you, then they must be.”

“Thanks… No, let’s say I’m borrowing them. I’ll return them one day.”

“Haha. Then I’ll be waiting. In the meantime, I’ll take in the starving people of Salasma and the refugees displaced by war. Since I have become the Count of Lantarique with your help, I must ensure I rule with dignity. I will become a ruler that won’t shame myself in your eyes, Herald of the Emperor, Azadine.”

“That’s… quite the ambition.”

Guillaumevalt’s resolve made Azadine feel ashamed of himself.

As night fell, lanterns lit up across Lantarique.

Unlike Salasma, or perhaps even more so than Salasma, this economically flourishing city was abuzz with excitement over its new count.

“Sir Guillaumevalt, huh? Isn’t he too ugly?”

“I heard he’s a fool.”

“But Lord Adler is so handsome.”

To the common folk, nobles were just figures of gossip, valued for their elaborate clothing and appearances. In that sense, they favored Adler over Guillaumevalt.

Azadine smirked bitterly as he overheard these conversations in a tavern.

“They’re judging the man who will decide their fate solely on his looks?”

“They simply have no expectations from nobles anymore.”

It was Zebec, a Holy Knight of the King’s Church, who made that remark.

For a devout knight of the King’s Church, an institution that preached the divine right of the Yaegas God Tribe to rule the world, it was unusual to hear him criticize the nobility so openly.

Has something changed in Sir Zebec’s beliefs?