Chapter 27
*
At the moment Bing Yeon was persuading Azazel Blackheart to take her as an apprentice, a distant mountain range in the East was home to an alchemist searching for the Philosopher’s Stone.
“Is this it…?”
Wulfram was looking for the secret cave hidden behind a waterfall, said to be the secret lair of Shintu, where various treasures were hoarded.
She even went so far as to use an expensive teleportation gem, making her way here faster than anyone else.
Her golden hair and luxurious robe had become heavy with water, and her panting breaths and racing heartbeat revealed her anxieties.
‘Surely, this isn’t a lie…’
Shaking her head at her worries, she cleared her thoughts. She was here after giving up on the idea of getting the hero for profit.
The chances of the information being false were extremely low. It was just that the legendary thief known as the unincorporeal Shintu was hard to track down.
Various magic traps mixed together made it impossible to detect with a detection spell, and fumbling around without a plan didn’t help either.
“Not here either. Damn it, why are there so many waterfalls…!”
As she searched each waterfall dotting the mountainside, Wulfram cursed under her breath. Just how well hidden could it be if even magic proved ineffective?
In this situation, she couldn’t even request support from the mage tower. Information in such a scenario was nearly worthless.
If the location of the Philosopher’s Stone became known to the public, someone else might covet it or restrictions on its use could arise.
Wulfram knew that fact better than anyone.
She had grown up hearing the starving cries of babies and the continuous voices of people seeking help in the back alleys.
From nothing, she had climbed up to the throne of a gold tower, claiming to have built it of gold.
“…Found it! Footprints on the ceiling!”
Wulfram carefully examined the ceiling, her eyes widening in realization. The faint traces almost invisible upon closer inspection.
Confirming the path someone had walked through the ceiling, she smiled at her hard-earned success and prepared to cast a spell.
“Reverse Gravity.”
Zing─! A golden magic circle lit up at the tip of Wulfram’s staff, causing her to float into the air.
Then, like a bat, she began to walk upside down along the ceiling.
“I have no idea how it was done without magic. The people of the East are truly mystical.”
Wulfram pictured the legendary thief Bing Yeon had spoken of, the unincorporeal Shintu, as she stepped forward.
The areas with water marks should be safe. In hindsight, it was rather strange that no security measures were set on such a straightforward path.
As she walked upside down through the narrow, winding passages, Wulfram couldn’t believe her eyes when she came into an open space.
“There really is another space inside the cave….”
The cave, which should have been shrouded in darkness, was so bright it nearly hurt her eyes. Bioluminescent jewels were placed everywhere, reflecting the gentle glow from heaps of gold coins.
Adorned with countless jewels and gold, it looked less like a cave and more like a vault crafted by a century’s greatest architect.
“Wow….”
Wulfram couldn’t shut her mouth. She had never seen such a sight even in the golden magic tower said to be piled high with gold coins.
No matter how wealthy or materialistic a society may be, facing such an absolute difference made it hard to believe the reality.
“If I take all this… how much will it be…, No, that’s not what matters right now!”
Wulfram smacked her own cheeks hard enough to make a sound, bringing herself back to her senses. She had come here solely for the Philosopher’s Stone.
Unlike fake gold that was too impure to refine, the Stone could turn even cheap metals into pure gold.
“Not this…, not that… Where is the Philosopher’s Stone?!”
Items that could change the fate of an entire kingdom passed through Wulfram’s hands, but without hesitation, she pushed them aside to continue searching for the Philosopher’s Stone.
If she had known, she should have asked Bing Yeon for a description of its appearance.
The depictions of the Stone varied widely depending on the documents or mediums.
Some books described it as a crimson item created by grinding people into it, while others claimed it was clear like water, able to become any substance.
“Not this, not that….”
So she picked up everything that looked like a stone, clashing them against the fake gold she had made.
How much time had passed and how many attempts had she made?
“…Are you looking for this? Gold Tower Lord?”
A clear, melodious voice echoed in her ears, like a jade bead rolling across a silver platter.
Wulfram looked up, searching for the source of the voice. A girl appeared, giggling softly.
“Here you go. Here’s the Philosopher’s Stone. Were you not looking for it?”
Wulfram found the girl’s face oddly familiar. She bore features so unforgettable.
‘Were people with white hair and blue eyes common…?’
The girl had pale skin, hair the color of ice, and icy blue eyes that seemed to freeze the air around her.
Startled, Wulfram instinctively took a step back. The cold aura surrounding her was chilling, almost as severe as Bing Yeon’s.
“Ahaha, don’t run away. I just wanted to see what the ‘real’ Wulfram looks like.”
A ridiculous powerhouse.
If they fought, she would definitely die.
Though she wore human skin and spoke as such, she was something that should not be touched—‘something’.
“……?”
Chill,
Goosebumps erupted as she tried to grasp the meaning in the girl’s words, but it was utterly incomprehensible.
‘Real’? Does that mean there are fakes in this world?
“My name is Bing Seolhwa. Umm… Should I say I’m like a mother to you?”
Bing Seolhwa looked at the terrified Wulfram and flashed a cheerful smile. It was bright as morning sunlight, but it sent chills down her spine, lacking any hint of joy.
Originally, Bing Seolhwa was known as Bing Yeon’s half-sister, the rightful heir of the North Sea Ice Palace.
She should have been the figure bearing the alias of the Ice Emperor, but,
“No, it’s more fitting to call me the Creator. Mostly shared, though!”
“…Creator?”
She suddenly called herself the Creator or Mother.
There is a divinity named Solareon, and this girl was asking to be called the Creator? Wulfram instantly judged this was heretical.
“Here! Here’s the Philosopher’s Stone you wanted!”
As she brandished her staff to protect herself, Bing Seolhwa pulled out a glowing green stone.
At first glance, it looked like a plain jade, easily mistakable as nothing special, but she unequivocally claimed it was the Philosopher’s Stone.
In an instant, Wulfram’s eyes darted down as she felt a shift in her vision.
“You lived in the alleys as a pickpocket as a child, and your dream was to help the poor?”
With a sly grin, Bing Seolhwa recounted Wulfram’s past.
“Your father… didn’t he end up committing suicide because he couldn’t pay off his huge debts from failing in business? Your mother drove herself to death while trying to support you alone?”
How could she possibly know?
“You, you bastard…!”
Was she under an illusion spell? Wulfram racked her brain, but Bing Seolhwa continued to spout information that only she knew.
“I’m disappointed too, Wulfram. If I had known the settings Do Hyeon and I created would turn into reality, I should’ve made them more detailed.”
Her voice transformed into a neutral and unusual tone, reflecting her ever-changing nature.
At times it was soft and delicate, while at others it boomed in a ruggedly masculine timbre.
“…What the hell are you?”
“I told you before, didn’t I? I’m the co-creator of this world and your Mother.”
Each time Bing Seolhwa took a step closer to Wulfram, squirming tentacles seemed to move within the shadows.
An existence beyond human comprehension, a blasphemy against the gods of the real world.
Among the outer gods, she was known as an Outer God.
“Or I could also call myself the ‘Black Female Goat of the Woods that Nurtures a Thousand Young’ or ‘The Wife Whose Name Must Not Be Spoken’. The titles I hold in this world… I don’t know if they’ll hold true here.”
Bing Seolhwa was rattling off names of an entity revered as the mother of all and the earth goddess, an entity whose true name a mere human couldn’t articulate.
“My true name is─.”
Shub-Niggurath.
Similar to Azazel, Seolhwa bore the essence of an outer god.
*
Meanwhile, while Bing Seolhwa and Wulfram were facing off, a group of individuals was leaving a monastery in the Western Region.
“I cannot accept that junior!”
“I agree. Master, why would you accept someone who has defied you as an apprentice?”
Verdandi, brandishing her holy sword to threaten Azazel, and Bi Wol, with her arms crossed and pouting.
They were clearly displeased with Azazel taking Bing Yeon as an apprentice.
In the midst of those disciples, Bing Yeon was trying to intervene, looking as if caught between two feuding parties.
“Hey, guys, to win the Dragon Knight tournament, we absolutely need Azazel…”
To lessen the slim possibility.
If the original protagonists didn’t appear in the grand episode, they would miss the chance to secure the Eternal Blood of Ten Thousand Years.
Cough! Cough…!
Bing Yeon felt her heart clatter, struck by a pain similar to having an ice pick stabbing her lungs.
She had used both her aura and inner energy to deal with Azazel, causing blood to spill onto the ground repeatedly as she leaned down.
“Master…!”
“Master!”
“Are you okay?!”
The three people around her all displayed shocked expressions and concern for her.
“I’m fine.”
Even though it was all because of Azazel, Bing Yeon was trying to brush it off without blaming her.
Perhaps not disliking such foolishness, Azazel attempted to heal Bing Yeon with her divine power, and then,
“I shall heal you… Oh?”
Realizing something was off, she uttered a short gasp and began to probe Bing Yeon’s body with her tentacles, trying to uncover something.
“Azazel, what the hell is going on…?”
“Why do you have these marks on you?”
Writings formed from many goat hooves and tangled horns, like a black cloud, were inscribed there.
– I believe this world should end as it was meant to, according to the ‘original story’, Do Hyeon.
Only those who had contacted the outer god could know such a phrase.
– Someone who loved your writings dearly, once.
There were these words inscribed on Bing Yeon’s back.