Chapter 10: Illusory Afterimages

Lying leisurely in the large net woven from vines, the Green Maple Tree truly lived up to its reputation as a sacred tree possessing wind magic powers. Though this was merely a myth stemming from ancient legends, Komer was certain that such trees indeed carried an aura of wind. The coolness brought by these tall, lush trees alone was enough to convince one of the benefits of magic. With just a minor wind spell, one could lie in the soft vine net all day, drowsy and free from distractions. When awake, one could enter a state of meditation to explore the mysteries of magic; when tired, one could simply curl up and fall into a deep sleep. It had been a long time since he had enjoyed such a comfortable life, and it seemed he hadn’t tried to relax and entertain himself intentionally in ages. Not only had Komer noticed changes in himself, but these changes were even more evident to his two old friends.

Komer couldn’t determine when this situation had begun, but one thing was certain: after experiencing many nightmares, his more steady personality seemed to have grown stronger, while his once unrestrained nature gradually subsided. Puber and Eilot disliked these changes, finding such a life too dull, and Komer himself also disliked it, as it wasn’t in line with his true personality. Erasing this rigid and heavy trait that didn’t belong to him wasn’t easy—just like correcting an inherent flaw in one’s character. Komer could only rely on meditation to deliberately correct certain psychological aging tendencies he wanted to get rid of. Fortunately, his efforts finally paid off. After a week of continuous meditation, Komer gradually regained his former self. Even the soldiers of the half-orc guard noticed that their master’s personality seemed to have changed significantly, with smiles appearing more often on his face.

After a week of immersion, Komer finally understood one of the main reasons why dark magic was condemned by many as an evil practice. The complex principles of dark magic required many to devote their entire lives to it. While such dedication could accelerate one’s magical advancement, it often led to a lack of connection with the outside world and reflection on human nature. As a result, some individuals became extreme in their thinking, and with certain external triggers, they might easily embark on a path that defied societal norms. In other words, those who practiced dark magic needed not only a broad mind but also a mindset of constant reflection—yet how many could truly achieve this?

Komer didn’t care about others, but he could clearly sense that he was different from himself just a while ago. A month earlier, he might have been calmer, more rational, and more mature, but he always lacked passion for life, as if everything around him had little to do with him. Whether successful or failed, he saw himself merely as a passerby in history, following a predetermined path step by step. Even during the most intense battles or negotiations, he could maintain an indifferent attitude. On the surface, this seemed like an excellent quality for a lord, but in Eilot’s words, such dullness—like a hermit’s life—what meaning did it hold even if one lived for a thousand years? If one couldn’t indulge their heart, enjoy life, or do what they wanted, what meaning did the world have for them? Was their entire life meant only to serve others?

Eilot’s crude yet practical words resonated deeply within Komer’s heart after a week of spiritual purification. It was like water that was already boiling being brought to a full boil by one final piece of wood, leaving Komer in a dazed, dreamlike state for days. Once this sentiment was awakened, it could no longer be suppressed. A new Komer had finally returned.

To return to his true self, Komer first took a week off for himself. The Maple Forest became his vacation spot. The vines harvested from the depths of the forest had long been the main weaving material for artisans among the Caucasus natives. Various wicker chairs and beds made from these vines were very popular among the upper-middle-class families throughout the Homer region. Komer simply had someone weave a hammock similar to a fishing net according to his own design and hang it directly in the Maple Forest. With the gentle breeze and the rustling of the trees, this paradisiacal experience became a regular part of Komer’s vacations.

However, good times rarely last. Whenever a hoarse voice similar to that of a duck sounded in the Maple Forest, Komer’s happy life came to an end. Puber, who had long resented Komer’s self-imposed vacations, would never let him enjoy a peaceful break. In his view, it was he who should be taking time off. His already thin frame seemed to grow even older in the Caucasus, which made Puber lament his fate under his friend’s oppression while demanding compensation from Komer, threatening to go on strike otherwise.

Komer never took Puber’s threats seriously. Such a power-hungry man would get sick from idleness if allowed to rest. In Komer’s eyes, his old friend was a typical paranoid. Perhaps it was his psychology of wanting to enjoy everything to the fullest once he held power after suffering much oppression. Nevertheless, Puber’s behavior was indeed impeccable. Though he was a bit stingy, it was because he was saving for himself as his lord; though he was a bit lecherous, that was his private life. Komer believed that one day, after being overwhelmed by the seductive skills of those half-elf prostitutes, he would naturally stay at home with his two heads hanging low. As for work, there was no need for him to worry at all. Even dedicated people like Fran and Rese had to admire the diligent work ethic of the governor and feel ashamed in comparison. Perhaps he subconsciously regarded work as everything in his life.

“What’s the matter? Look at yourself, Pupber. I’ve warned you before not to get too close to this forest. Do you know what kind of forest this is? It’s the Green Maple Forest, a wind-based forest. Be careful—too much wind energy could sweep you away. It really took Ilot and me a long time to find you. I suggest you carry two iron ingots with you. Bahomun’s iron ore has already been delivered to Ugru, so I guess their smelting workshops should have produced their first batch of iron by now. As a government official, I’m sure they’ll give you those two ingots as a favor.” Lying in the hammock made of vine nets, Komer didn’t even glance at his companion who was shakily approaching; instead, he continued to tease him with a smirk.

“You bastard, Komer! I’ve worked hard for you day and night, only to end up like this. If that’s the case, I’ll fight you to the death!” Pupber, who hadn’t yet entered the forest, was furious. Although he already knew his old friend had returned to his former self, such cruel mockery made him extremely angry.

“What kind of end? Exhaustion and death, or running out of energy?” Komer lazily turned his head, stretched, and teased with a grin, “Poor Pupber. I’m sure your last night in this glorious and great life will be spent on a woman’s lap.”

Seeing Pupber, pretending to be furious, charging at him with clenched fists, Komer burst into laughter. With a casual gesture, he pointed, and three skeleton warriors, roughly the same height as Pupber but much thicker, suddenly appeared in front of him, lining up in a row. Their dark eye sockets were empty, but they stared at their prey with a menacing gaze.

Rusty iron shields, mottled bone spears, and two tattered pieces of leather armor—one covering his chest and the other covering what should have been his lower body—emitted hissing threats. The once peaceful Green Maple Forest suddenly became eerie.

Shocked, Pupber, though already familiar with his friend’s magical abilities and knowing that his friend’s mastery of magic far surpassed that of ordinary wizards, still felt a chill when he saw three skeleton warriors appear before him. “You bastard, boss! Get these guys away from me! Ah, they can even spit out poison! Ah, I’m poisoned!”

Shouting loudly while pretending to be dizzy, Puber was helpless. He didn’t dare to provoke those things he wouldn’t even look at—skulls, zombies. Just thinking about them made him feel disgusted, yet it seemed his old friend took great pleasure in them.
“Enough, enough! Stop acting like that. These are just illusions—not real skeleton warriors at all. As for some ‘zombie poison,’ I think you just used too much energy last night.” With a wave of his hand, the three skeleton soldiers vanished instantly. Komer finally got off the hammock and lazily sat down on a stone bench nearby, picking up his glass and taking a sip. “Want some?”
“Of course!” Puber looked around in surprise. The three skeleton soldiers had disappeared silently, without even a wisp of smoke. It was too strange. With a hint of envy, he glanced at Komer and asked, “Boss, these are clearly the skeleton warriors you mentioned fighting against ogres—why are they just illusions now?”
“Heh, these magical things—you wouldn’t understand even if I explained. Simply put, skeleton warriors are created using real puppets. Their combat strength varies depending on the skill level of the original owner before death. As for illusions, they’re a type of mental magic. In short, your eyes are deceived—what you see is an illusion; there’s actually nothing there.” Komer glanced at him with a smirk. “Interested? If so, you can give it a try. I’d be happy to have another fellow practitioner.”
“No, no. If that’s the case, not everyone’s eyes can be controlled by you?” Puber tilted his head. Though he kept refusing, he was somewhat tempted. If he could use this magic to trick women, it would be perfect. Any beautiful princess—just cast this magic and make her think he’s her lover. Then he could have her however he wanted.

As soon as Komer saw the saliva about to flow from his companion’s mouth, he knew what the other person was thinking about. Mental magic was originally the type of magic that mages were least willing to practice—it not only carried high risks and dangers but also had a much higher failure rate than any other kind of magic. If mental magic failed, the mage would spend the rest of their life in a daze, a fate even worse than dying on the spot. There were barely any mages on the continent who specialized in this kind of magic. If it weren’t for the memories brought by King Kenifer III, he would never have dared to try it.

Hearing the other person speak so casually, Komer could only smile bitterly and shake his head. “If it were that effective, what’s the point of practicing other types of magic? All the mages on the continent would just focus on mental magic. This kind of magic is useless against those with strong wills, and it’s worthless even if the opponent is on guard. Most importantly, it consumes a great deal of mental energy and only lasts for a short time. Moreover, these illusions can only take the form of specific visions, not changing endlessly as you might imagine.”

Upon hearing this, Puber became even less interested. Practicing magic was already a dull and dangerous task. Spending endless time and effort in pursuit of fleeting glory was something Puber absolutely refused to do. If he could make rapid progress like Komer by obtaining some strange crystal, maybe he would consider it. But to truly devote himself to practicing that kind of magic? Absolutely not.

“Hmm, you’re right. If that were the case, the world would be in chaos.” Shrugging, he took the glass of wine handed to him by Komer, drank it in one gulp, then sat down on a stone bench. Slapping his hands together, he sighed, “The world is unfair. Why can some people lie in a hammock and live leisurely, while others have to run around constantly?”

“Yeah, exactly. But I think some people seem to really like this kind of life. Calling it despicable might be a bit harsh. It’s better to use another term—paranoid or twisted,” Komer retorted with an indifferent smirk.

Faced with a companion who had fully returned to his original state, Pu Bo knew he could never win an argument with him, so he changed the subject: “Alright, let’s stop arguing. I like my current life; it’s something I brought upon myself. Fine, but it’s also an objective fact that I’ve taken a lot of the pressure off you, the boss, right? Whether out of sentiment or reason, shouldn’t you let me try your so-called miracle health tonic?”