Round 36: Afterglow

Forty-seven followed the Seven Sins Tower downward, absorbing the energy emanating from within it. As the last remnants of that energy returned, Forty-seven changed once again. It wasn’t a transformation between a giant and a dragon, but rather a particle-level decomposition and reconstruction, similar to O’Sullivan’s construct weapon, Atlas. Every component of Forty-seven’s body shrank and merged—eight condensed into four, four into two, and two into one—transforming into a substance somewhere between solid and liquid, reshaping into a new form. This miniaturized construct limited Forty-seven both in size and strength—after all, even nuclear reactors can’t operate at full capacity all the time, right?

The dragon continued to change shape as it descended, growing smaller and smaller.

By the time Forty-seven reached the peak of the Seven Sins Tower’s ruins, which had raised dust that covered the sky over the Tanori Plain, it had taken on the appearance of a human man. Tall, with a gloomy expression, not particularly handsome but with sharp features. His physique was as perfect as a sculpture, with only his skin glowing with a metallic sheen and his neatly styled hair hinting at his former identity as a massive construct—of course, his hair couldn’t get messy, as it was merely steel disguised as hair.

Forty-seven stepped down from the ruins and approached Singh, who sat slumped among the debris. His smooth, mercury-like skin gradually hardened as it flowed, forming a sleek, shiny full-body armor that clung tightly to his body.

The form-fitting armor changed with Forty-seven’s movements, with decorations and patterns appearing, disappearing, and reappearing, shifting in position and shape—perhaps simply due to Forty-seven’s unpredictable moods.

He cautiously didn’t get too close to Singh, stopping about twenty or thirty feet away. Singh didn’t make any aggressive moves either—he just raised his head, squinting at him with an expressionless face.

“Perhaps we can talk now, old man.”

Singh suddenly laughed. He raised his hand, his index finger slightly bent as he pointed at Forty-seven. No one knew whether he intended to cast his final spell or say something to Forty-seven—perhaps because his aged body had reached its limit, perhaps because the intense battle had inflicted irreversible damage on him, or more likely because the spiritual pillar supporting his soul had collapsed along with the fallen Seven Sins Tower. Forty-seven clearly saw the light of life extinguish itself in Singh’s clear eyes.

His aged fingers trembled slightly before falling limply downward. Singh was dead. Perhaps this also marked the end of the glorious era of mages in the Agus Empire.

Stubborn old man… The rising sun shone on the massive steel ruins, casting brilliant shadows. Looking at Singh, who sat motionless, leaning against a broken metal plate, Forty-seven suddenly remembered a few lines of poetry he had read in a comic:

“Supreme honor,
A magnificent destiny—
Ultimately beyond my control…
…
A fierce blow of fate
Shatters even the strongest—”

A fierce blow from behind struck him. 471 tilted his head to dodge Moriel’s angry slap, but immediately received a kick on his lower leg.
“Ow…” Moriel stepped back two steps, limping slightly. She had accidentally kicked against the edge of 471’s leg armor.
“You bastard! I almost couldn’t get away!” Moriel was furious. “Do you want to kill me?”
471 looked at her in surprise—now he was able to make expressions to annoy her properly. “How could I? Aren’t you fine now?”
In the distance, the Tanori River flowed quietly under the morning light, unchanged for thousands of years.

Half a month later.
“It’s like a dream… I still can’t understand it…”
This was a small, nameless village in the southeastern part of the Tanori Plain, near the Dragon’s Jaw Strait to the south. Hunter had grown up here. On a sunny slope outside the village lay buried the highest councilor of the Agus Empire’s Mage Council, Archmage Singer—without a tombstone, even the grave was just a small mound. By next spring, when the mandrake grew wildly, it would be difficult to even find this place.
“Don’t think too much about it,” said Sayers, standing in front of Singer’s grave and patting Hunter’s shoulder. “Since things have turned out this way, thinking won’t help! How about coming on a trip with me? We’ll go to Traley Town first, then travel east along the Dragon’s Jaw Strait…”
“No, I want to stay here,” Hunter shook his head.
“Stay here? It’s dangerous for mages in Agus right now!” Sayers scratched his chin with his battle axe. “Vatan City is in chaos—no emperor, no council. Powerful nobles rule on their own, fighting over the throne and blaming everything on the council and mages. It’s as if they hate us; everything is our fault. If it weren’t for my parents having some influence in the army and lying that I died in the Tower of Seven Sins, even they would be in trouble… If this affects us, it’ll be hard for a novice mage like you to protect yourself!”
Hunter turned to look at Sayers, dressed in adventurer’s gear. Now, no one would ever think he was a mage—looking at his build, he might even be able to take down a bear!
“To be honest, you do look quite capable like this,” Hunter said, turning his head back to stare at the fresh soil. “But I’m different from you. I’ve dreamed of becoming a mage since I was young… For my unrealistic dream, my parents and sister spent all their savings. I used their hard-earned money to keep going to Vatan City, hoping that Archmage Singer or Master Kiskein would suddenly take me as an apprentice. But I got nothing each time. I didn’t even qualify to enter the mage district, and not a single mage ever gave me a second glance… Yet I never gave up. I never took care of household chores once. Even when my father was sick during the harvest season, I was still waiting in Vatan City for the great library to open to civilians. All the food was harvested by my mother and sister, working from dawn till dusk…”

“It wasn’t until the war with the Night Elves suddenly intensified that I was conscripted without understanding what was going on. First, I went through over a year of intensive training, and then I was thrown into battle… When I finally returned home, my father slapped me right in the face, while my mother and sister hugged me and cried bitterly…”
Hunter sniffled. “I tried to help around the house, but I couldn’t do anything right and only caused trouble. They wouldn’t let me do anything either, yet they proudly whispered at home that I was already a mage, not an ordinary person… How am I supposed to face them?”
“Enough.” Thayes gave him a firm slap on the back, making Hunter stagger. “What’s the use of a man crying like this! Commander Moriel already lent you her research notes from these past years! She’s still here to guide you and the other apprentice mages who have taken refuge here—you’ve never had such treatment before! You’ll soon be able to reach a new level and become a true mage!”
“Yes. As for her, I really don’t know what to say. I haven’t seen her since she returned from Vatan City… By the way, Thayes, are you really not going to become a mage? You even gave me your necklace—so you—”
“Hmph! Of course I’m not becoming a mage!” Thayes flexed his arms proudly, his muscles bulging. “I’ve already learned ‘Bull’s Strength,’ and that’s enough! The next time you hear my name, Thayes, it will be as the famous Berserker Thay—”
“You two fools!” Moriel threw a clod of dirt at Thayes from afar. “I sent you to find Hunter, and here you are chatting with him?”
Moriel walked up to them, facing Singh’s grave. Whether out of habit or for some other reason, after a brief silence, she bowed slightly, paying her final respects to the old mage who once held all of Agus’s power but now lay silent in the ground.
“Commander Moriel… Has things improved?” As if unable to bear the silence in Moriel’s presence, Hunter hesitantly spoke up.
“Improved? It’s still the same mess as before.” Moriel let out an almost imperceptible sigh before turning and signaling the two of them to walk down the hillside.
“Haven’t you found Master Kiskain and Mage Kond yet?” Hunter asked anxiously.
“No, neither alive nor dead.” It seemed Moriel didn’t want to continue this topic anymore. “The Council and the Emperor are gone. Whether those two are alive or dead no longer changes anything.”
Not only them—Isabella, who lived in the port area, was also gone, and Daguras had completely disappeared—but Moriel didn’t think she was buried in the Tower of Seven Sins.
“Um… I heard you’re leaving? Going to the Forest of Slumber?”

Moriel nodded. “That’s right. That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. You take care of those idiots in the village from now on. I need to go to the forest and talk to the elves, at least to get those low-level mages who don’t even know ‘Pathfinding’ out of there… Ever since the mage forces in the Sleeping Forest learned about the huge changes in Vatan City and the collapse of the Tower of Seven Sins, they fell into chaos before the Dark Elves even attacked. They scattered in disarray, no one caring for anyone else. Many low-level mages got trapped in the forest. I sent Forty-Seven to the forest to ask the Dark Elves to spare them, but I’m really worried he might cause trouble, so I need to go there too. I hope I can get the elves to agree to let them leave the forest instead of shooting them one by one…”

“Commander Moriel, you said you’re going to the Sleeping Forest. I hope I can go with you!” Hunter seemed to think for a moment, but his eyes were filled with determination. “As a mage of Agus as well, I hope I can help them!”

Moriel stopped in his tracks and turned to look at the young apprentice mage. Sayers beside him glanced at Hunter, then nodded at Moriel as well. “I want to go too.”

“Sure. But you don’t need to call me commander anymore. Just call me Moriel.”

Deep in the swamp, the ruins of a mage tower were gradually being restored, soon to return to their former state—ruined yet still sturdy.

Kond struggled to carry a bucket of drinking water obtained using the “Purification Spell” from a nearby stagnant pond, walking through the extremely muddy swamp. He was covered in mud, his face filthy, and his beard had stuck together like a little girl’s braid. In every way, he no longer resembled the noble and prominent Archmage of the Agus Council.

As he kept pulling his feet out of the mud, he kept muttering under his breath, clearly very dissatisfied with this job.

“Hm, Kond, hurry up! Hm, these are the sweet treats I just made. Hm, if you’re not quick, hm, you won’t get any!” Kiskain appeared at the window of the mage tower, basking in the sun and humming contentedly.

“Yes, Master Kiskain!” Kond replied eagerly, inwardly cursing that idiot old man viciously—since encountering Kiskain somewhere in the Tanori Plains, Kond had been completely at his mercy. He couldn’t fight back, couldn’t escape, couldn’t threaten him, and couldn’t plead with him either. Kiskain had cast a spell learned from some barbaric tribe, stripping him of most of his power and leaving him capable only of using weak, non-offensive spells like “Purification Spell” and “Light Spell”. Now, Kond had become a complete slave to Kiskain, who eventually dragged him to this barren swamp and settled him in this already half-ruined mage tower.

Just wait. Sooner or later, I’m going to escape. At the very least… that old man can’t live longer than me!

Kond entered the tower, set down the bucket from his shoulder, and thought bitterly.

After stepping into the Sleeping Forest, Hunter and Sayers could clearly feel the hostile gazes of the Night Elf warriors. This was precisely why Moriel had brought them here—without the Council and their crafting techniques, the low-ranking mages left in Agus would be no match if the radicals among the Night Elves decided to take revenge. Compared to the pursuit by those nobles, this was the most deadly threat.

It wasn’t really Moriel’s concern, but after the Fall of the Tower of Seven Sins, when she saw these low-ranking mages who had fled Vatan City with downcast faces, having always been used as tools by the Council and now with nowhere to go, she suddenly felt she should help them.

“Where’s Forty-Seven?” Moriel asked, sitting in the canoe and calmly looking at Fado’s unfriendly expression.

“I don’t know,” Fado replied coldly.

In truth, she did know something. After returning to the forest, Forty-Seven first went to see Felgas and the others. Faced with Forty-Seven, whose infernal powers had been washed away and whose appearance had changed drastically, the demonized elves were at a loss. Forty-Seven told them they no longer needed to follow him and could do whatever they wanted. Elder Uther immediately offered to let the demonized elves stay in the tribe until a way to reverse their transformation was found. The demonized elves said nothing at the time, but they disappeared that very night. When Warrior Leader Jorais asked Forty-Seven, he replied indifferently, “What’s it to me?” Jorais was so angry he almost argued with him—hadn’t the High Priest pulled the new warrior leader away in time.

Ildris, who had returned to a simpler life, was still extremely beautiful. Even when Moriel first saw her, she couldn’t help but marvel at how nature could create such a stunning being, not to mention Hunter and Sayers’ stunned expressions at the time.

The negotiations went smoothly. Since the war ended because of Moriel and Forty-Seven, the issue of prisoners of war was naturally resolved out of respect for them. Besides, those Agus mages were merely trapped in the forest and couldn’t really be called prisoners of war. With a little guidance, they quickly gathered together. By the time the mages prepared to leave the Sleeping Forest, dusk was approaching.

“Miss Moriel, I’ve decided to return to Vatan City!” Hunter’s tone was resolute. After all the events that had taken place, the boy seemed to have grown up a lot. “With so many companions together, and with Miss Moriel’s help, we’ll rebuild Vatan City!”

Sayers seemed surprised; clearly, Hunter hadn’t shared these plans with him beforehand.

“I need to do some things of my own, so…”

“I understand. I just wanted your blessing. Thank you, Miss Moriel!” After saying that, Hunter bowed deeply, turned, and walked over to the other mages. Sayers glanced at Hunter as he left, then at Moriel, said nothing, and rushed after him.

Moriel watched the backs of these mostly young mages… Those city walls, bearing the thousand-year glory of the Agus Empire, would undoubtedly go through more trials ahead.

Forty-seven lay on the rattan bed on the roof, in complete ease. He wasn’t even bothered to wander around in the elven city with Moriel to buy some strange magical materials—after all, she would come to him once everything was done.
It was time to leave this damned place… Where should he go? Should he return to Rain City first? With his eyes closed, Forty-seven pondered as the warm sunlight bathed him. He decided to take a short nap—or rather, rest with his eyes closed.
The unique natural sounds of the forest made the surroundings even quieter. With most of his main systems shut down, images appeared before Forty-seven’s eyes… images that resembled dreams. He was certain that even in his current human-like form, he shouldn’t be dreaming. A burning sky, chaotic dimensions, god-like giants, dragons entirely composed of radiant light shimmering with rainbow hues, enormous and terrifying monsters beyond description…
It seemed like just an instant before he suddenly sat up. The rattan bed cracked loudly as several strands broke, scaring away the few night elves who had been secretly watching him.
“Where are you going?” Moriel, who had just returned, was startled as Forty-seven jumped straight off the roof.
Forty-seven didn’t answer; instead, he pulled her along.
Suddenly, a deafening roar filled the entire Eldrith tribe. A metal dragon rose into the air in the center of the city. All the night elves stared at this suddenly appearing giant, along with Moriel, who was in a disheveled position on its back. The dragon spread its massive wings equipped with thrusters and flew above the lake surrounding the city. The intense wind pressure created wave-like ripples on the water, pushing some wooden boats far away. Suddenly, fierce blue-white flames erupted from beneath the dragon’s wings, allowing it to instantly fly away from the night elves’ city and vanish into the sky filled with twilight hues.
“I think he won’t be coming back,” Uther said, standing by the window with his hand on the sill, watching the giant figure recede. He showed no surprise or panic like the other night elves in the city. It seemed that nothing Forty-seven did could surprise this old druid anymore. “At least, not for now…”
Deep in the forest, Forty-seven and Moriel, now back in their human-like form, stood beside a huge pit.
It seemed as though something was deliberately hidden there—the pit was surrounded by towering trees as thick as walls, intertwined with each other. Their dense canopies blocked all light outside. If it weren’t for Moriel lighting a magical lamp, the place would have been completely dark.
“What is this place? How do you know about it?” Moriel looked into the depths of the pit with the help of the magical light, unable to tell how deep it was.
Earlier, while in the air, she hadn’t been able to detect anything special about this place. If anything could be said, it was that the area around the pit had extremely lush forests stretching for hundreds of miles, so dense that one could walk on top of the trees. If Forty-seven hadn’t suddenly descended, even with her prophecy spells, she wouldn’t have detected a hole that seemed to lead straight to hell.

“It was a dream. I dreamed of this place.” Forty-seven and a half crouched down and looked into the pit as well. “It seems like something was drawing me here… But it looks like I arrived too late.”
He grabbed a handful of wet soil, seemingly trying to sense the traces left by whatever had crawled out of the pit—then he stood up and clapped his hands.
“Let’s go. There’s nothing more worth seeing here! Weren’t we going back to Rain City?”
A solitary figure walked across the gloomy land, staggering and tripping over and over. After falling several times, it seemed he couldn’t get up again, but after resting for varying lengths of time, he would manage to get up and keep moving forward. He didn’t know his direction or his destination; he just wandered aimlessly, feeling his life force slowly draining away.
After falling once more, he no longer had any strength to go on. Well, dying here might not be such a bad thing. Soon, wolves and vultures would come to claim his body, using it as food for these desert creatures, then it would become their excrement, and finally turn into dust scattered by the wind…
On his deathbed, the dying traveler seemed to see a vague and massive temple descending upon the wasteland. It was indistinct, barely visible, almost blending in with the howling winds across the desert, making it hard to distinguish.
“Is that him? He looks like he’s about to die.”
“That’s him. Take him away.”
Chapter 5: To the North