May Your Soul Rest in Magdala

Chapter 3

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Act 2

Fenesis cried for a few short moments.

Just as Kusla reached his hand out, she retreated back across the floor.

Kusla had been more or less accustomed to this situation. He did not pursue her without reason, but he decided to pretend he was unconcerned as he watched over her.

He tidied the books and the parchment rolls that were moved into the workshop. Kusla lined them alongside the items left behind by the former resident alchemists, and swapped out the material he had yet to read. There were a number of books made from the leather of large animals like deer or items hard as a board, some of them even laced with gold foil. One would find, upon opening them, long and flowing print with vibrant ill.u.s.trations. It was evidently a very labor-intensive process

Normally, these were characteristic of an Archbishop’s belongings – or a Cardinal’s, those of a Large Lavra, or a large Cathedral’s.

It was a wonder how many such books there were.

A workshop near the battlefront is really amazing.

Kusla thought.

After working for quite a while, he caught something move in the corner of his eye, and found that Fenesis, who calmed down, was using her hands to support herself in her attempt to stand up.

It seemed she still could not stand up.

Kusla stuffed the parchment scrolls into the bookshelf, and walked over to her with a sigh.

Upon hearing the footsteps, Fenesis looked up at Kusla in surprise. She stared at the Kusla, who reached his hand out, looked at the hand, and then up at the face before grabbing it and standing up.

However, her feet were trembling like a newly-born fawn, and Kusla practically lifted her up and saddled her on the chair. Her body was dainty, and as she was still young, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were still small, to the extent that they could not fit into Wayland’s opened hand.

Despite this, her body was well-proportioned, and there was a sense of elegance in the firmness of the chest.

If seen as a feline’s body, she certainly could be seen as some cat pampered in a mansion.

“You got into quite a disaster here.”

Kusla said as he poured the tea made from dried vanilla gra.s.s. The girl, whose eyes were swollen from the sobbing, would sniffle from time to time as she stared at the table.

“But randomly approaching an alchemist itself is a mistake. n.o.body told you before you came here?”

Kusla brought the cup emitting steam right in front of Fenesis, and she arched her back as an ostensibly suspicious item was brought in front of her.

Someone must have reminded her.

“Nn?”

After being prompted with the question again, Fenesis looked over at Kusla with her teary swollen adamant eyes.

“But…I never…”

“Well, that’s true.”

In response to Fenesis, who answered with a hoa.r.s.e voice, Kusla steeled himself with an inclined att.i.tude.

“If I wasn’t around, who knew what’ll happen to you.”

“!”

Her body stiffened. This time, her face shuddered in fear, and she cupped her shoulders.

She swore at the monastery.

Obedience, impoverished.

And also, purity.

“Wayland…well, he’s that kind of beast who’ll eat everything. No matter how young that girl is, even if she’s a nun, he’ll take them all.”

“…”

Fenesis cuddled her shoulders, and stared right at Kusla with a terrified look she found difficulty in hiding.

“Also, those genuine alchemists have something more terrifying than an appet.i.te for the flesh. For a beast like Wayland, a pure maiden is the best toy that can provide three times the enjoyment.

“…?”

Kusla raised 3 fingers, and Fenesis was completely fearful of this notion she could not imagine as she showed a completely disoriented expression.

“First, they can obtain good ingredients from a maiden for experimenting, like the hair strands, fingernails, tears, and fresh blood.”

She could not make even a whimper as she gritted her teeth and tensed her body.

“As for the second, of course, there’s no need for me to say this. The one being delighted…well, it’s painful.”

This time, the girl’s gritted teeth pressed against her lips, and she lifted her lower jaw slightly at Kusla.

The enemy of all women; or rather, an act below that of a beast.

“And, the last method of enjoyment.”

“…That?”

The reason why she could ask was because the second act was something easy to understand; it was an evil act everyone knew of.

Her anger was easily understood, and this question was more or less the best remedy in regaining her sanity.

However, Kusla answered her question unabashedly.

“The 3rd is the most malicious, the reason why devils are called devils. Then, what’s left after the 2nd enjoyment?”

Fenesis hesitated as she faced that icy face.

There was a large gaping hollow before this premise.

This might be the expression anyone of firm belief would show in the darkness.

“Right, a fetus.”

“…”

She did not lose her breath due to anger, and she did not gulp due to surprise.

She vomited.

Her body rejected this thought, and she was unwilling to understand it.

“The Placenta, Umbilical cord, the fetus itself, each of these items are ingredients used to make youth elixirs for eternal life since ancient times. Also, the first thing is to vivisect the abdomen while the mother is still alive…”

Kusla paused as Fenesis had covered the mouth of her pale face, her head lowered.

He nonchalantly stared at Fenesis, thinking it was enough.

He probably understood that Wayland was the embodiment of evil in Fenesis’ heart, the emissary of h.e.l.l, a mad alchemist of darkness and diabolism.

“Sorry, I might have gone overboard with the provocation. Are you alright?”

Fenesis did not look alright at all, but she adamantly nodded.

“But there are two things you can take solace in.”

“…?”

Due to the vomiting, tears were seeping out from Fenesis’ eyes, and she turned her beautiful gem-like eyes at Kusla.

“It was a few years ago when Wayland went on a rampage, attacking others like that. Because of G.o.d’s grace, he has more or less regained some humanity. Even so, the third desire is the only thing absent, and his first and second desires are still around. It’s better to watch out.”

Fenesis stared at Kusla seriously as the latter raised two fingers, and nodded her head.

“And also, the second thing is that I’m your ally.”

Kusla used the second-person p.r.o.noun ‘you’ he hardly used, and gave a smile.

Fenesis was dumbstruck for a moment, and finally showed an expression of relief, ostensibly having returned from h.e.l.l.

Kusla himself understood this relief, ”G.o.d Bless You!” and thought this with realization.

“I… do not believe you.”

“Of course. It doesn’t matter, or rather, this has to be the case.”

“…Are you trying to run away from the issue?”

“Impossible. If you’re an idiot who believes me when I say that I’m your ally, you’ll be fooled by Wayland’s masquerade. In that case, I won’t be able to protect you. However, as long as you have eyes that suspect, a mind that think, a strong mettle to fight, and enough devotion, won’t you not discover the truth soon? I know which is correct, and G.o.d knows everything. There is only one truth, but many ways to find out. If we meet somewhere, we can hold hands and support each other. Am I wrong?”

”Am I wrong?” Upon hearing this, Fenesis widened her mouth as she stared at Kusla.

The eyes were full of hostility and wariness, but Kusla was relieved.

Those eyes were not looking at things they could not understand. They were at least human, within his understanding.

Why would humans feel a sense of familiarity with what they can understand?

And alchemists were of the complete opposite, despised by many.

“How about you drink some tea? This is something the n.o.bles in the South are trying to popularize. It won’t make you drunk like wine, it’s nutritious, and is effective against illnesses. If the sea routes are opened, it’ll become a very important trading commodity in the future.”

Kusla reached his hand out to the silent Fenesis as he tried to advise her.

Fenesis looked at the tea, and then looked back at Kusla again.

The antagonistic intent in her eyes gradually vanished, and wariness was all that remained.

”She’s so young.” Upon seeing this, Kusla thought. It would be easy to fool her no matter how many times he wanted to.

Kusla was truly mystified, wondering what results the Choir was hoping for when they sent the girl here. However, he again realized that this was not the case.

She was probably the same as them.

Post’s opinion was that the Choir would make use of Thomas’ death and get involved. In that case, the Choir would a.s.sume Post would have set up a countering position. In that case, it would be a loss for the Choir to easily send outstanding personnel, only to be killed.

In that case, they would send in someone who would be obedient, but whose death would not be mourned over.

It would be best if she could find something, but if she was killed for some reason, they could use this as an excuse to cause trouble for Post.

Kusla drank his cup of tea and glanced at Fenesis. He felt it was impossible for the girl in front of him to understand this much, and from her studious att.i.tude right from the beginning, it seemed she was thoroughly motivated as she was proud that such a great responsibility was tasked to her.

There is a high affinity between ignorance and fanaticism, and this is common in the world.

The silence in the room was abnormal.

A few minutes later, Fenesis was drinking the tea.

The common phrase of ‘eating at the same table’ means to trust the other party greatly.

He really wanted to tell her that she would have died if the tea was poisoned.

Because she was baited by this coaxing in this situation, he could not feel happy at all.

Kusla merely said something to close the distance between them, out of his sense of duty.

“Is it nice? It’s just a similar gimmick, and I don’t know if it has the same flavor as the one the n.o.bles have.”

“…Not bad.”

It would be more appropriate to call her firm-willed rather than obstinate. Perhaps it was because she looked frail, both appearance-wise, and mentally.

“Speaking of which, I haven’t introduced myself yet.”

“…”

Fenesis put her cup down and stared at Kusla with wary eyes.

Or perhaps she always had such an expression.

“My name’s Kusla. I don’t know whether this is a good name or not.”

“Your real name?”

In response to the question, Kusla merely shrugged his shoulders.

“For an alchemist, there’s no such thing as a real name or what. An alchemist is a seeker of something that goes beyond what humans can do. That is not what a human can do; to someone straying off the right path, a human’s name is not needed. Once we die, our names won’t be engraved on the tombstone. We’re often thrown deep into the forest or in the wilderness; and for that case, there is even less of a reason to have a real name.”

He told Fenesis the slightly exaggerated truth, but the latter did not look very surprised.

She merely lowered her head to take a gulp of tea.

“So what is a non-human like you, KuslaInterest, looking for?”

This question came with an intense stare of utmost concentration.

She wanted to give a sharp, stern, steel-like stare, but it felt more like an innocent stare suitable for city life either way.

“Iron.”

“Iron?”

“Right. I would say it’s more of metal than iron itself however. They give off a dullish glow, let out sparks when grinded, and let out a clank when hit. Recently, Wayland seemed to have gained an obsession over metals, and was called to this workshop with me. But his mind is still like that, just that his disease is headed for a different direction, thinking about some magic rocks or magic metal.”

The casual continual badmouthing of Wayland brought about Fenesis’ disgust and fear, and Kusla continued,

“Metals are pretty, and they’re like religious faith.”

“…Like, religious faith?”

“G.o.d never buried metals underground in their pure forms, and people used all sorts of methods to remove the impurities, refine them, and turn them into pure substances. This is a long arduous process; isn’t religious faith the same? To slowly remove the impurities and gradually approach the pure.”

“…It’s as you say.”

Fenesis was slightly hesitant, probably wondering what an alchemist was talking about.

“And then, one day, religious faith was elevated to something that was completely different. As for whether that was what G.o.d called humanity to do, this is something a non-religious like me doesn’t understand.”

“…”

Fenesis did not answer, and her eyes showed signs of being overwhelmed and expectant.

”Perhaps he’s not as bad as I think he is?” This notion was clearly written on her face. Perhaps she was still not used to suspecting others.

Due to the difference in abilities, Kusla felt some remorse, a rarity for him.

Also, to an extent, obedience could be considered the single focus of religion.

Once there was a sense of familiarity, anyone would feel like favoring her.

Or rather, if this was the Choir’s objective, she might be the perfect candidate in making others think this way.

”That was dangerous.” Kusla thought.

“But I feel iron is the same. This is why I came here even though it’s dangerous. Besides, it’s a must to create strong iron for the Knights’ call of acting in G.o.d’s place.”

“Changing the beliefs of pagans.”

“Changing the beliefs of the hated pagans.”

Kusla added on, and Fenesis suddenly tensed up.

She was a thorough believer in the orthodox Way, to a point where it was refreshing.

The people in the Choir definitely felt Fenesis was, without a doubt, in their complete control.

That was why, for Kusla, he had to be controlled even if he expected it .

“But there are a lot of difficulties awaiting us. I suppose we can combine our strength and work together.”

Kusla said, and reached his right hand out.

However, Fenesis merely gave a glance, and did not reach her hand out.

“I’m your invigilator. I won’t become like you.”

She was certainly honest and pure. Even after Wayland groped her chest, even after she was exposed to danger, she definitely would not forget what she should do.

But this was not beyond a child obeying an adult’s instructions.

Kusla continued to act as best as he could.

“I was too careless there. I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to persuade you here.”

Kusla pulled his hand back, and Fenesis closed her eyes, ostensibly about to nod.

“But, thank you for the hospitality. And…”

“And?”

“…I’m sorry for showing such an unsightly thing.”

She did not want to say it, but she would have hated it if she did not say so.

Perhaps she had a habit of listening to G.o.d’s servants who confessed and repented over their sins, or maybe it was an excuse she wanted for herself so that she could say so.

“No? I think that’s a response to be expected.”

“…”

”Are you comforting me?” Just when her eyes were showing signs of relief, there was shame and animosity. Perhaps Fenesis’ ideal image was to have a pure, firm, steel-like believing heart of a Sister.

It was simply the dream of a girl whose seriousness was the only aspect that warrant merit.

At this point, Kusla felt the urge to protect rising in his heart. She gave off the innocent childish vibe that would make anyone think of protect her at all costs.

But at the same time, he felt foolish for treating the other party as an elite enemy soldier.

“Well, anyway.”

Kusla continued on like this, and Fenesis tensed her body due to anxiety.

Since she had a handle over the other party’s fate, she would nevertheless at ease even though it was some trivial matter.

It would at least be a consolation from this troublesome yet foolish mission.

“I’ll be in your care then, Sister Ul Fenesis.”

She was clearly relieved because of Kusla’s words, and was about to show a smile.

“Y-yes.”

And so, she adjusted her sitting posture, cleared her throat, and tried her best to look serious.

And since it was obvious she was trying to hide her feelings, just looking at this alone made him happy.

“But I’m your invigilator.”

“Of course.”

Kusla too barely managed to hide his emotions and said so with a serious look.

It was not uncommon to have someone watch over an alchemist.

Rather, it would be expected to send in an invigilator, as alchemists would carry out experiments that bystanders would not understand, experiments where they would risk their lives nonchalantly.

Of course, Kusla and Wayland have stepped over the line many times.

This would not be the first time a invigilator was sent to watch over them.

“This is basically how a workshop is like. It certainly is better not to step inside so carelessly, as there are dangerous things here, and they can be toxic when mixed together.”

For Kusla, who refused to have a tour through a workshop the first time he was brought to one, things seemed to be progressing smoothly for him.

For one, Fenesis, who made a round from the ground floor room, went down the stairs to the workshop, showed an unexpected affirming look. She had been giving suspicious looks at the various animal bones left behind by their predecessor, opaque jars and countless vials, but after a thorough explanation, the doubts vanished completely.

Besides, Fenesis should have some knowledge of the subject of alchemy, a requisite needed to be tasked with the role of an invigilator. However, it is obvious to see if there were pagan magic used if one were to compare the methods used with the books belonging to the priests with prestige.

“But Wayland is still the most dangerous of them all.”

Kusla whispered, and Fenesis curled her pet.i.te body.

Wayland was in the room with a furnace and water wheel below them.

But even so, when making a round through the workshop, Fenesis definitely would not pull her distance from Kusla.

Her feelings were like an adventurer on an Odyssey through h.e.l.l in an epic written by a great poet.

“So basically, what we do here is that we increase the quality of iron here, and research on refining iron with lesser fuel. Just as G.o.d positioned people that looked different all over the land, the rocks buried underground will have different characteristics due to the differences in land quality. What we’re looking into is the best method to extract them from the rocks dug up from the ground.”

“…”

It was said one of the rules in a priest’s life was silence.

Fenesis was being just as that, and did not make even the slightest sound as she listened to Kusla seriously.

Or rather, she probably felt something bad would enter her mouth if she spoke up in the workshop, but either way, it made the job of the one explaining very easy.

“But this is really a good workshop.”

It was the first time Kusla entered this workshop as he showed Fenesis around, and he inadvertently expressed this thought.

The workshop below had a lot more items inside than the one upstairs, and on first glance, it was impossible to determine what items were inside, and where they were located.

What suddenly appeared in his eyes were obvious items like an animal skull hanging on a wall, a scale balance, a crucible, crystals bits and a celestial globe. On a closer look, one would understand that they were positioned logically, like a mini-universe.

All the items were tidied and sorted out. Even a novice could know what type of objects they were given the relevant knowledge.

This was the reason why he could explain everything to Fenesis so easily.

But Kusla remained silent as he looked at this workshop for a while, because he felt pathos at this.

“…?”

“Ah, sorry. I was thinking the predecessor was really a capable person.”

“…”

It seemed the name was Thomas Blanket.

Though it was said he was killed in the city, the cause of death was still uncertain.

Even after Friche’s was killed, and her body was mutilated, Kusla merely thought about alchemy. However, there was a damp feeling rising in his body.

A highly skilled alchemist had gone.

In other words, there was one less comrade doing the bad things hidden from G.o.d’s sights.

If possible, Kusla wanted to have a chat once.

It was probable that the name Thomas Blanket was simply a borrowed name, and n.o.body knew where he came from. There was no grave, and a few years later, n.o.body would remember this name. What he left behind was simply this workshop and the alchemy knowledge, and since Kusla and Wayland moved into this workshop right away, it would inadvertently become something that used to belong to him.

And the method of refining iron he painstaking obtained would also be ostensibly a thing of the past; it would simply be trodden upon as an antique, one people would ignore.

This was the fate that awaited alchemists.

Alchemists would not leave anything behind.

What would be left behind was merely a trivial fact, that someone once advanced towards Magdala.

“However, I suppose most of the amazing alchemists end up like Wayland.”

Kusla pretended to joke as he said this, but Fenesis showed a disgusted expression.

“In that sense, I am a Second-rate as an alchemist.”

“…”

This line could either be interpreted as that of humility or overwhelming confidence.

Fenesis too noticed the play of words here, and gave a startled stare.

It seemed she was fairly smart.

Kusla did not dislike smart girls.

“How about Wayland’s work? I feel that he should be the one I need to invigilate.”

And he showed an honest troubled look in response to those words.

It seemed she was really terrified and revolted of Wayland.

“But if you trust me, can’t I just report everything to you?”

“…”

After Fenesis lowered her head, showed a serious expression, and pondered for a while, she answered briefly,

“Please a.s.sist me when I make sudden checks from time to time.”

She gave such a punchline as a reason, but it was similar to telling someone to accompany her to the latrine at night.

He did not laugh, but he had a slight urge to tease her.

“Understood.”

Their Supervisor Post wholeheartedly accepted the flattering praise that was filled with condescendence and insolence within before, but Fenesis glared back immediately once she knew he was teasing her.

There was an overwhelming difference in tolerance.

Kusla pretended not to notice Fenesis’ stare.

“This is how a workshop is. You can voice out about anything you want to know about when we get down to actual work, and I’ll accompany you during the sudden checks.”

“…”

“I’m not looking down on you. Or rather, it’s for your own good to call for me when you watch us.”

“…That…as expected…”

It seemed she was unable to restrain her curiosity, and wanted to ask. “I suppose it’s different from what you think the reason is.” but Kusla said,

“In an experiment, we might end up creating deadly gas that may be invisible to the eyes, undetectable to the nose, and will make you lose consciousness if you breath it in.”

“Eh.”

“The hand of the Death G.o.d. It is something that often appears when burning coal.”

Kusla placed his hand on the bear skull hanging on the wall, stroked it, and continued,

“When extracting metals, we will use poisons that will render us conscious just from a single touch. However, we do not extract those materials, mercury-type materials for instance, for their poison. Even if the poisons aren’t that powerful, weak toxins will acc.u.mulate in us if we ingest food without washing our hands after touching such materials. For example, lead, a.r.s.enic…”

Kusla folded his fingers as he counted, and as she watched the fingers bend down, Fenesis’ expression was akin to watching a pillar supporting the sky snap.

“I-I understand.”

“Ah, for us, there’s too many dangerous things we have to make clear to you rather than hide from you. If the Invigilator dies, we will be the ones suspected. We have nothing to if we’re killed because we really killed you, but we’ll really hate it if we’re to be hanged because you died on your own like that.”

“…”

It made sense logically, but Fenesis showed a complicated expression.

With so many poisons around her, there was a high chance of her dying randomly, even as compared to the chances of her being killed. This felt more realistic than all the exaggerated rumors regarding alchemists she heard of.

“And one more thing.”

“?”

“You have to eat after us.”

Fenesis tilted her head, ostensibly unable to understand.

“Even if I don’t betray you, Wayland might end up killing you.”

“!”

“Another possibility is that someone we don’t know of is trying to poison us. However, we can taste the poison if there is any in our food, so you must not eat before us. Even when you eat, do so in my presence, or if you have any courage, eat with Wayland and take whatever’s in his plate.”

n.o.body will risk their lives to eat secretly.

These were the words clearly written on Fenesis’ tight-lipped face.

But Kusla was not completely joking when he said that. Originally, if Fenesis were to die at this place, they would definitely seize upon the opportunity to pursue Post because of the sacrificial p.a.w.n’s contribution. The logic was, The killer is the alchemist under your charge, so you have to bear responsibility. In that case, there was a chance Fenesis’ superior would poison her food.

It seems I have to watch her condition and health, Kusla was a little disappointed.

Even if there were no issues with eating at this place, they would have no such luck anywhere else. If someone poisoned her with sulphur at a different place, there was no way they could prove their innocence.

The strength of a chain is determined by the weakest component.

In other words, Fenesis was more of an ent.i.ty sharing the same fate as them, rather than Kusla and Wayland’s enemy. They had to protect this overly weak enemy like a comrade.

The Alchemists’ teaching that everything will change applies everywhere.

There was nothing eternal. The moment one heave a sigh of relief and open his eyes, he would find himself living in h.e.l.l.

Kusla thought as he went up the steps, and the moment he looked back, he found that Fenesis had stopped in her tracks.

“Have you…always lived this lifestyle?”

It took him a little while, but he finally realized it was a continuation of the previous conversation.

Fenesis, who was looking down from above, resembled a pagan.

“Of course. It has always been like this, and will remain like this.”

He shrugged and returned to the first level.

As she followed from behind, Fenesis seemed to be pondering deeply over something.

Perhaps she was amazed by the alchemists.

“Half of an alchemist’s job is done in the workshop below, and the other half is done in the city.”

“Eh?”

“The alchemists who can’t develop good relationships with the craftsmen in the city are third-rate. It may be surprising, but those who aren’t adept at socializing can’t become alchemists.”

Fenesis was startled for a moment, as she felt that was impossible.

Kusla however chuckled,

“Our job, especially those related to metals, are basically repet.i.tions of the experiments the craftsmen can’t do because of how busy they are every day. However, their craftsmanship is really amazing. Our results will be left on paper, but theirs won’t, and they won’t have the time to do so. That’s why we ask them and learn from them. That Wayland too looks like a decent person when he goes to the craftsmen. Speaking of which, our lives will be in danger if we offend them. Craftsmen workshops are not as peaceful as it is here; If we do anything stupid, we’ll have anvils smashed on our heads or get burned by the pokers. They definitely won’t do lenient things like poisoning or a.s.sa.s.sination, but they’ll dump any fool who decides to steal from them into the furnace for example. Even the judiciary folks in the city won’t know if that was an accident or homicide. Also, the high heat of the furnace can burn even bones to dust, and they can pretend nothing happens. In other words,”

Fenesis was overwhelmed by the atmosphere as Kusla described the situation, and the moment he said the last words and raised a finger, her eyes were attracted to it like a cat.

“In other words, this world is filled with danger, and is completely different from the monastery.”

Fenesis then nodded in response to the finger that was curled back.

Perhaps she did not truly understand the meaning behind those words, but he did not have a duty to teach her.

He stared at Fenesis, and could not resist the urge as he raised her chin.

It felt as enjoyable as teasing a kitten.

He shrugged his shoulders, and took his coat.

However, Fenesis spoke up, slightly fl.u.s.tered.

This would probably be a cla.s.sic example of wanting to know one’s destination beforehand.

“Erm, where are we going?”

“The sunset bell’s going to ring soon, right? I need to greet the craftsmen before then. It’ll be troublesome if they’re unhappy because I didn’t greet them immediately.”

“…”

It might be hard to imagine anyone who could force the terrifying alchemists to kowtow.

“Then, what do you intend to do?”

“Eh?”

“Can you watch the house alone?”

Of course, she was clearly infuriated as she understood the meaning behind his words, but naturally, these words were said to tease her. It would be boring not to see such a reaction.

“Do not worry.”

“Oh my?”

She said so with a relaxed tone, but it was surprising she could still remain calm even as she was going to be alone with Wayland.

“Someone will come fetch me when the sunset bell rings.”

It was still fine if she remained alone for such a short while.

Kusla shrugged slightly.

“Ah, I think you should understand, but don’t touch anything weird.”

“That…yes.”

“Be a good girl and read the books.”

“Eh?”

Fenesis showed a temporal moment of surprise as she stared at Kusla.

Concerned by that response, he put his hand on the door and looked back.

“What is it?”

“Ah, it’s nothing…”

Fenesis tried to correct her words and avert her gaze as she tentatively lifted her eyes at Kusla.

“I can, read them?”

“Huh?”

He did not understand the context of this question. Perhaps it was an issue of religion here.

“Ah…it’s fine. There’s nothing that defies the Church’s teachings. Your compatriots have already checked through them.”

“…”

“However, do remember these are all high valued stuff. Don’t drool all over them.”

“!!”

Fenesis pouted, and Kusla did not bother with her any further as he opened the door.

The outside was dyed a dark red, and it was extremely cold. Before he closed the door, he glanced behind, and found Fenesis staring at the shelves repleted with books with a jubilant expression. He recalled she was reading books when he arrived with Wayland. I guess this is to be expected of a well-cultured Sister after all.

He proceeded down the slope leading to the harbor as he remained in his thoughts, and brushed past a group riding on a carriage.

There were 3 horses walking side by side, and the head of the middle horse was covered with embroidery with gold and silver lines on its head, a costly coat fluttering along his neck. On its saddle, there was an old man cloaked completely in black robes.

His stare was facing forward unflinchingly.

And remained as such even as Kusla obviously entered his sights.

There is no way there can be any obstacles in my path.

The man’s expression clearly betrayed such a notion, and the iron-masked monastery knights flanking him a.s.sured this was not a delusion.

This was the Choir belonging to the Knights.

Kusla side-stepped to allow the carriage to pa.s.s by. Certainly, there was no doubt they recognized Kusla’s face, and their stares were focused forward.

His prankster mindset was inciting him to get in their path, but he was not so foolish as to do such a thing without checking the situation inside the city.

And so, Kusla did not walk down the slope, but turned behind to look at them. they stopped in front of the workshop, and a knight poked the door with his spear. Fenesis appeared from there with her head lowered, ostensibly begging for mercy.

They then proceeded in the direction away from the port, and of course, Fenesis was the only one walking.

This might be a given in the monastery’s strict legislation regarding hierarchy, but the scene resembled that of a human trafficker and a slave trader. No, this might be the case, he thought again. The Choir deliberately chose to invite her with such formal equipment, probably antic.i.p.ating any unforeseen scenarios, or perhaps they were hoping for such a situation to happen.

Such hideous folks. He murmured as he spat on the path.

The Church’s evening bell rang at that moment, and a day’s work was coming to an end.

All cities and towns had to abide by the bell, as long as the Church exists. No matter how many city councils the Knights control, this was the final bastion they could not break down.

With this as the signal, the city ostensibly heave a sigh of relief after a long day’s worth of work, and all regular activities and stalls lined on both sides of the streets started to pack up.

Despite this, the city was a lot livelier as the city folk pa.s.sed by each other, those who were headed home, and those who were not done with their work. The spear-wielding city guards were patrolling around, maintaining the security of the city, resulting in congestion and shoving amongst the citizens. However, they quickly filled the gaps, becoming a human flow akin to a highly viscous liquid.

This is really amazing. He thought.

Soon after, he arrived at a large building 5 levels tall, with a pickaxe and lantern coat of arms carved out from it. Kusla did not know the geography of the city, but he would not be lost given the fact that the city’s structure is similar all around. The liveliest streets and bustling locations in the city would always be occupied by those with authority.

He looked around for a little while, and found the Knights’ building, where Post resided, a block away from him.

Unlike the world of stone smoldering under the land, the rationale behind the human world was a lot simpler.

Kusla easily leapt 3 steps up the stone steps, and without using the knocker, immediately pushed aside the heavy wooden door.

The Blacksmiths’ Guild too would have a similar layout, no matter what town it was. The first floor was a large s.p.a.ce built to accommodate important meetings and internal arbitration. Normally, the workers would have breakfast at this place before dawn, and from dusk till night, this would quickly become a bar once work was over. They would have their meals and alcohol, and no matter how boisterous or raucous, it would simply be an internal matter for them.

But at this timing, in this large room, the chairs were still overturned and placed on the tables, and the candles were still not lit. The floor was polished neatly, and the shiny black color let out a chilling light.

“Is there anyone inside?”

Kusla tapped his heel several times, and heard echoes all over the room. Then, a voice finally came.

“d.i.c.kens? Hasn’t your workshop closed at this time ye—”

A lady with her sleeves rolled up walked out from the interior room, holding what looked like a heavy bucket in both hands.

“Hm? Who are you?”

“I’ll like to meet your Leader.”

Kusla said as he stared at the parchments laid out on the wall. These parchments list all the special privileges the council has granted the Guild, and the large number of parchments clearly showed the prestige in the town.

“May I know what your intention is?”

The lady placed the bucket aside with a loud thud, and one could tell from the sound that this really was not heavy. The lady looked young, but her slender body showed no signs of effeminacy from her, and one could feel her bravery from the handkerchief wrapped on her head.

She did give the vibe matching a Metalworks guild, and the long red hair reaching out from under the handkerchief was as messy as a sailor’s, but gave a sense of reliability.

“Ahh.”

The lady took off her handkerchief and wiped the sweat of her head as she said,

“So you’re the one.”

“?”

Kusla raised his chin, expressing his doubt, but the lady did not continue. She let down her rolled sleeves as she walked to the small altar used for prayers to the guardian saints. She then placed a thin stick into a small pot, and lit the candle on the side.

As to be expected of a Craftsmen Guild, it seemed they had prepared a firestarter beside the altar.

“You are the new incoming alchemist, am I correct?”

“No need for the long talk. Now then, where is the Guild leader?”

Kusla again asked, and the lady continued to hold the candle and light the lamps on the wall as she answered without looking back.

“That would be me.”

“…Oh my?”

Kusla deliberately invoked this tone, but he was certainly startled by this fact.

Then, the lady shot a glance over her shoulder for the first time, showing what seemed a lethargic stare.

“I am Irine Brunner, deputy for Robert Brunner, caretaker of the Blacksmith Guild.”

I see. Kusla raised his chin slightly and stared at the lady who introduced herself as Irine.

“I see. Pardon me then.”

“Not really. I too do not feel suited for this role, but n.o.body else is willing to take up this role.”

“What about Mr Robert Brunner?”

“He went on a long journey.”

This meant that he had pa.s.sed away.

In other words, Irine was a young widow.

It was likely no new leader was appointed as they wanted to avoid any disputes.

“Then, I shall address you as Miss Irine then.”

Kusla placed his right hand on his left shoulder and gave a formal bow; though he appeared respectful, he was a little contemptuous within.

“I am an alchemist affiliated to the Knights, and I come here without a name and without a home, only skills. I hope, for the sake of the Knights, crusaders of G.o.d who aim to bring justice to the land, and for the sake of the almighty G.o.d’s name, to get the maximum efforts of Gulbetty’s Metalworks guild.”

Kusla added a little theatric in his act as he remained adamant not to let it break apart.

His work in the future would be affected if he were belittled, and this was a definite rule that could not be broken in any town. After praying to G.o.d to a point of embarra.s.sment, he would have to follow a shockingly c.u.mbersome process to finish the contract.

No matter how much a mentor hoped to gain a.s.sistants, if he wanted to take in a new disciple, he would have to let this disciple stay outside the door for 3 days and 3 nights. Of course, he would have to take care of the disciples’ meals and sanitary needs, and in the night, he also had to usher the disciple into the workshop and issue bedding to him. This was a tradition that had to be kept.

“Lend you our maximum effort, huh?”

After lighting the lamps, Irine puffed the flame off the extremely long candle in her hand, walked back to the altar, and smiled.

“We are the ones who need a.s.sistance.”

However, Irine actually said such a thing.

“…I really am troubled by such direct words”

“At the previous town, I really scoffed at those alchemists.”

“…”

Even the Knights could not control all the cities.

Also, the blacksmiths, who work for a living, would have better experience in the field of Metalworks. Also, there was a vast difference in iron content in different regions, and even an experienced alchemist could not match that of a local blacksmith’s. For cities with powerful Guilds, the forestalling of an alchemist’s materials was a common sight, and certainly, it was not rare to see even the backers of an alchemist end up powerless.

Thus, it was a tradition for an alchemist to kowtow to the workers when he arrives at a new town. This way, he could obtain skills, knowledge and materials, and the new techniques derived thereafter would be repayment to the craftsmen. This is despite it being a mere expression of formality.

At the very least, this was a tradition pa.s.sed down for generations.

“Because of the Knights’ Crusade, business has been incessant. Even at this time, the Guild house remains empty.”

The floor and walls were well polished, and the candles looked new.

If it were another Guild, this would be the moment where a banquet would start. However, there was nary a craftsman to be seen here.

“Because of the exceptional benevolence the Knights showed us, the issue regarding the lack of students is mitigated somewhat, and most of the immigrants in this city have joined our Guild. There are 130 mentors, 500 disciples, and if we count their families, there are more than 1000 of us here. Thanks to the Knights, we’re not starving at this point. They had been a.s.sisting us in all aspects, from the obtaining of raw materials to the selling of goods, you know? Do you know they even provided the funds for the addition construction of the waterwheel and the furnace at the workshop? There’ll be punishment on us if I begrudge our lords from the Knights.”

Irine sat on the Guild leader’s ma.s.sive stone seat at the desk, and her considerably ma.s.sive body for a woman looked somewhat pet.i.te on it.

Perhaps it could be said that even if there was a veteran bearded blacksmith with a chiseled body, his body would appear small in the face of the Knights’ overwhelming finances, and had to remain silent as a result.

A craftsman would need money if he wants to showcase his skills. If he wants to pull any town immigrants to his factory, he would have to win the tussle for authority against the other Blacksmiths Guilds, and to win, money would be imperative.

The construction of the waterwheel and furnace too would be nearly impossible to complete alone. To put it simply, a city could only allow a fixed number of waterwheels; thus, there would be disputes with others over the privilege to use them. How did one keep them quiet? By paying them off, of course.

In the face of such issues, the Knights could give the final say by using its overwhelmingly ma.s.sive fortunes. To win the war, weapons, shielding and tools needed to fight sieges were needed.

“If I refuse your a.s.sistance, I will probably be cut to bits.”

“The Knights sure are shady, but I do notthink they are this primitive.”

“No. I’m talking about the craftsmen.”

Irine said as her face showed a slight teasing smile.

This woman really has guts for choosing an alchemist as someone she can vent her frustrations on. Kusla thought.

“One of these days, the Northern cities will fall, so will there not be a new influx of immigrants? Everyone is starting to save up their wealth to show their loyalty to the Knights. After a thorough discussion, everyone agreed that our Guild’s directive in the future is to give our all for the n.o.ble alchemist.”

Irine took out a bundle of parchment scrolls from under the table and tossed it onto the table.

Kusla was taken aback, and Irine grinned.

Normally, a craftsman would not record his techniques in the form of writing. The secrets pa.s.sed down within the workshop had to be different from the others. Thus, seeing how she prepared parchments with records on them, it seemed the craftsmen were already prepared to enter the new world.

They would even let the Workers Guild, originally an independent ent.i.ty, let themselves be called maidservants of the Knights.

“Now do you understand the reason why I’m sitting on this chair even in this situation?”

Irine, slumped deeply within her seat, gave a spiteful smile at Kusla as she said. It seemed she was so nonchalant even when facing Kusla not because she was gutsy.

But because she had given up on everything.

“Just an empty vessel.”

“You sure are direct, aren’t you?”

“An alchemist has to seek truth.”

Kusla reached his hand out for the parchment bundles, and a unique odor gently entered his nostrils. “Of course.” He said.

Having obtained this, there was no reason for him to remain here any longer.

He tucked the parchments under his armpit, and just as he was about to head back, he suddenly thought of something.

“What kind of person was my predecessor Thomas?”

Thomas’ cause of death was investigated by Post and the Church, and he did not ask this question for the sake of investigating, but simply out of curiosity.

Or perhaps, because of Friche’s death, he was able to feel some empathy for a person’s death.

“He’s a serious and just man who seeks the truth.”

She simply shrugged, ostensibly making an insinuation.

However, one could tell from the tidiness of the workshop that this remark was not too far from the truth.

“…So I cannot lose to my predecessor here, right?”

“This will affect our profits, so please put in your efforts in the refining of iron.”

Kusla gave a slight smile, and left the Guild house.

He closed the huge heavy door, took a few steps, and heard what sounded akin to a slam from the inside.

There are people who are pressured by this sort of huge pressure everywhere, to the brink of collapse.

However,

“Only I…”

Can drown like this.

And so, he buried this secret in his heart, and walked to the workshop in the city under the setting sun.

Upon arriving back at the workshop, Kusla found Wayland in the underground room, weighing the metals on a scale.

“How are the workers~?”

“Not an issue. It seems the Guild works closely with the Knights. Look at this.”

He placed the parchments on the workdesk,, and Wayland too was surprised by this.

“Hehe~? So they are willing to sacrifice their dignity in exchange for profits?”

“Whatever dignity can be regained once they become the first to reach the new world and build up their power.”

“The Knights are really good at uncovering people’s desires, huh~”

Wayland said as he ruffled through the parchments, and then set them aside in an uninterested manner.

“Anyway, I don’t think our predecessor Thomas died foolishly like what we heard.”

“Oh?”

This time, Kusla was the one who asked.

“I checked on the items left behind in this workshop, and the purity of the ingots are shockingly high. The purity is higher than the standard ingots I brought from my previous workshop.It is exapserating, to be honest. However, iron sand isn’t the only thing that can be mined in this region; there are a lot of inferior ores filled with sulfur and lots of other. If these are ingots refined from that kind of iron, that method he used is practically magic. There’s no way the blacksmiths in town can do this.”

“Magic…”

“It feels like the Devil’s work, like it was made by some Divine work. That is…”

Wayland looked up at the ceiling, and said,

“Maybe he is a resident of Magdala.”

“!”

Kusla gulped. For an alchemist, Magdala was a unique term, a place all alchemists aimed to reach.

Wayland’s skills were better than Kusla even though they were fellow peers in the field of alchemy, and thus, he would take this term more seriously. If he were to say it, it meant that it was not a joke.

“This might be the reason why that oaf Post chose to lock up this place and not tidy it up even if the Choir has to keep an eye on him. If that man is able to make such high quality ingots, his standing must be high up there or something.”

“But he just can’t find where the technique records are hidden. This is why the situation is as such.”

Alchemists would never record their findings on parchment, and most of choose to leave their records in a corner of the building. They could not predict what would happen , and may end up being eliminated for political reasons. For that reason, they would leave their findings in the furnace, roof beams, or under the floor tiles. Sometimes, they would even leave their results in the form of codes.

“Once he knows the technique, he can ignore the Choir’s interference, demolish the workshop, build another one somewhere else, and produce iron in ma.s.ses while being heavily protected. I guess this is the reason why the workshop here is not demolish. This place might be the crux to solving the code, and then, we will be able to see Thomas’ refined techniques and how diligent he was.”

“Hm?”

“I did a rough look through of the records that are left behind, and they are all in codes.”

The symbols used could only be understood by alchemists, and astrology knowledge was added as a distraction.

“It might be a little forced to treat this as blaspheming G.o.d …anyway, I guess the structure is that the results of each metal purifying will be used as a code written at the back end. Every time there is a development, he will use the records before to create a code and make it difficult for others to take what he achieved. I guess he was killed after he made that shockingly pure iron, and did not even have the time to make a proper conclusion.”

“In other words, that means…”

Kusla muttered, and Wayland’s lips showed a spiteful smile as he nodded.

“If we want to find out how to make iron with such purity, we need to go back to the start, follow Thomas’ footsteps, and find out where did he make the mistake. There is no way an ordinary alchemist can do this. I guess we are not just simple sacrificial p.a.w.ns after all.”

This certainly was a delightful conceited mindset.

This was an excitement that could not be felt outside the battlefield, to remind oneself his abilities are being tested while his life is on the brink.

And as alchemists, there was reason for them to be excited.

“I really look forward to seeing if we can find out the true ident.i.ty of this magic, no matter how the process is like.”

“Ohoho.”

Wayland laughed, got up, and leaned his body over the table as if he was whispering.

“However,”

And so, he said,

“It might not be too much of an exaggeration when that oaf Post said that he allows us to use our poison and a.s.sa.s.sination skills to protect ourselves.”

The tone Wayland used was akin to talking about the next day’s weather when he said this.

Kusla looked around for a little moment, and shrugged.

“No matter the reason, this is an alchemist who is outstanding enough to be killed.”

“Yeah. An overly strong mercenary may be killed not only by his enemies, but also his employer. It will be troublesome if he revolts. If the Church gets this technique…and I guess this is the reason. If the production of iron can be controlled, the Church will catch in in the war to purge the pagans.”

“Certainly a lot of enemies here. Got to remember this.”

Kusla pretended to joke about as he raised his fingers and started counting at them.

“Something smells fishy about this choice of personnel. I guess it will not fall short of our expectations here.”

Wayland let out a slight snort, and stroked his beard slightly as he raised an eyebrow, saying.

“Take note of your surroundings and watch out for more details than anyone else. If you keep remaining in the workshop, you will not realize that the city is occupied by the enemy.”

“The story of Auripedes, huh?”

Auripedes was a man from an ancient kingdom, hailed as an inventor, but was more of a forefather to alchemy.

It was said he was overly obsessed with his experiments, and even when bathing, as long as he had an inspiration, he would go naked and run about on the streets, making a weird sound. Even his death was due to a random soldier chopping him when he was solving geometrical questions on the floor. At that time, the enemy had occupied the city, and when the enemy soldier asked for his name, he was furious that the former interrupted his thoughts, and actually argued back furiously. As a result, he was unable to protect himself in time.

The tragedy of a man who lived more than a thousand years ago lingered on till now, for there was probably still a lesson worth learning from.

In this era, a fool like him would never be a good alchemist.

“That Missy too obviously looks very unnatural.”

Kusla changed the topic to Fenesis, and Wayland’s understanding was probably the same.

“I feel that your worry is not unwarranted, Kusla. Acting alone will not be the reason why someone is being so tense.”

But in regards to Wayland’s words, Kusla could only look over with a weary att.i.tude.

“…How many times have you done that already to attain such understanding?”

“Hm? This method is very effective on those without boyfriends, you know~? It is just that they will continue to remember about me for a while, whether out of anger, or out of fear. And once their minds are thinking about me, they are mine. After that, I just need to show her my sincerity, my conquest is complete, and they will not feel so tense.”

From a human perspective, a person who would frivolously call this sincerity was a sc.u.m of the highest order, but as a man, he might be someone worthy of respect.

“But considering that we are being viewed as expendable p.a.w.ns, we certainly are not thinking too much.”

“Correct. This is a workshop with two grown men living here, you know~. It is already a mistake top leave a nun here, and we cannot deny something might happen no matter how much we try to prevent it. Though it seems that you are not willing to do this, Kusla.”

“You really are a beast.”

“Surely not ~ this is the act of comforting something you love.”

Kusla himself felt such thoughts and actions were vile enough. However, anyone saint that would be deemed as weak, so he chose not to press the matter.

“But in practice, that cod is in charge of watching over you, Kusla. I will leave her to you then.”

Kusla glared back, but Wayland have a nonchalant look, pretending to be inattentive.

“All because someone pushed the job offer to me. I will show you.”

“I hope so. There is a lot of things to do starting tomorrow. You will get in my way if you loiter around like this.”

Wayland stood up, his hands on his hills as he glanced around.

“This is an alchemist’s workshop, my country.”

“Then what about me?”

Kusla asked, and in response, Wayland merely chuckled and shrugged.

On the next day, just as Kusla was about to head out, he sensed someone walking in circles at the front of the workshop.

Through experience, one could tell whether it was someone who just happened to pa.s.s by, or someone trying to look inside the workshop.

Obviously, it was the latter, but this person’s skills were very lacking.

Kusla wanted to ignore the person, for it works be a halls to chase him away. He however clearly saw who the person was when the latter tried to peek through the shutter gap.

At this point, it was impossible for Kusla to try and act calm; it was more impossible for him to do so when the person knocked on the door and walked in.

Appearing at the door was Fenesis, who was thoroughly worn out.

She was probably a little lost, wondering if it was Kusla or Wayland inside. . If she knew her trail of thought was seen through, what will her expression be like?

Kusla wondered as he let the pet.i.te Fenesis into the house and walk below his chin.

“What…is with this?”

He wanted to pretend to remain calm, but Fenesis did not seem to realize this at all. She removed the coat over the robes, and soon after, was taken aback by the item on the table.

“I want to replicate the work orderliness the previous owner showed.”

It does not matter even if other know of this. Kusla thought as he said this honestly. It would be harder for him to do work if he made a flimsy lie that would be seen through easily, and if it were seen through. Normally, no lie would bring good results unless there was a need to lie.

“…Huh?”

But Fenesis’ answer was a little vague. There were.stones and powder filled in little vessels of all shapes and sizes, laid out in front of the parchment on the table. There were also drawings of tools and stars on it, and the words gave a sense of stateliness. On first glance, it must be something related to magic or something.

But if it were a magic ritual, it would probably be a little more systematic, or in a certain sense, more aesthetically appealing.

Fenesis seemed to be at a loss of what to do, looking like she was wondering if she could prepare some sweets for many guests that would be coming in, rather than because there was a suspicious odor coming from the items laid out on the table.

“Do not sneeze here. If you breathe in the powder that flies up, you may die.”

“Ah!”

Upon hearing that, Fenesis frantically covered her mouth with her sleeve, but upon seeing Kusla, she frowned.

“Are you alright?”

Kusla did not answer this m.u.f.fled voice, and merely shrugged and smiled.

“…Please do not make such a joke in future.”

“But it is true that I do not want you to sneeze. This is such perfectly ground powder made after an entire night’s worth of work. Wayland will go crazy if he has to do it again.”

“Uu…I will pay attention to that.”

Using Wayland as a dismotivation certainly worked like a charm.

“Then…why are you dressed up like this?”

After hearing Kusla’s explanation, Fenesis stared curiously at the items laid out on the table, and then stared at Kusla with a confounded expression as the latter was dressed in a coat.

“I am going to a market.”

“Eh?”

“There are still some things we lack, and if I go to the market, I might be able to buy various useful things. I am a little concerned about leaving Wayland behind in the workshop, but it is great to have such a good inspector help out.”

Kusla grinned as he said this to Fenesis, but the latter paled, indicating her refusal.

“Er, erm? Eh?”

“Before I go, let me notify you of some things to take note of. It is still fine if there is a stench resembling that of rotten eggs, but if you smell anything similar to crushed rocks, or if there is black smoke appearing from the furnace chimney, hold your breath, quickly run outside, and run to the Baggage Corps’ headquarters. It is very likely that asphalt is being burned. I told you before, during the introduction to this workshop, that the hand of the Death G.o.d may reach out for you any time.

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