Mage? Magic Engineer!-Chapter 98 - 95: Audience with the Heaven-Supporting Tree
Beneath the stars and moon, the great tree at the heart of the forest shone more brilliantly than either.
All who witnessed it in person could not help but imagine, or even believe, that its sprawling branches held up the very dome of the sky.
And what was there to doubt? Its trunk was so tall, its canopy so vast. An endless stream of blue light surged from the earth, rising through its boughs and up to the tips of its branches. Finally, with a windless sway, the light would leave the Divine Wood, transforming into shattered fireflies that melted into the forest.
The brilliant, colorful light scattered across the sky, more numerous than the stars.
Within the domain it overshadowed, where its kin stood tall, the mana and the very rhythm of life in the Black Forest began and ended with it. It was the heart of this land, the mortal shell of a god, the Guardian that bestowed its Blessing upon all living things.
But beneath it lay a place of impurity. A battle decades ago had burned away the forest and meadows in a radius of several hundred meters around the great tree, leaving only exposed soil and shattered stone.
It also exposed a vile corruption—dark, foul tumors clung to the roots, endlessly climbing and multiplying, only to be suppressed by the blue fireflies. The two forces wrestled within a single form, tearing at, assimilating, and restraining one another.
At times, the tumors would burst, spewing a thick, viscous fluid that struggled to crawl towards the forest. Sometimes, this ooze even took on animalistic shapes. These abominations were born with the power to corrode and defile, and wherever they passed, they spawned malformed and rampant growth.
Fortunately, they were all fragile spawn, easily destroyed by the descending fireflies. To them, the fireflies were a lethal poison, a scorching flame. A single touch would spread throughout their entire bodies, causing them to evaporate and dissolve.
The clearing and the surrounding trees still bore the scars of scorching fire. Weathered skeletons lay scattered haphazardly on the ground. Under the effect of the Divine Power, the scene was frozen in time, with only the flesh and blood gradually returning to the natural cycle.
Some of these remains were clad in armor, others in carbonized leather. Decayed weapons were either clutched in bony hands or lay skewered amongst them. Together, they were twisted into bizarre poses, like dancers from the underworld performing a war dance for the Divine Wood, or for some other entity.
The foul fluid constantly tried to cling to these remains, but each time it was about to succeed, the fireflies would stop it.
Decades ago, in the Black Forest, the elite forces of the Elves and the Empire fought their final battle under the watch of the Heaven-Supporting Tree. It was a Military Mage who brought it all to an end.
At the center of the dancing skeletons, a single skeleton remained standing, propped up by a Magic Staff. Its open jaw left one to wonder: was the Caster’s final expression one of despair? Madness? Or a triumphant laugh, or perhaps a Roar of fury?
"What a magnificent sight!" The faithful servant of Mother Earth arrived before the rest of the investigation team. Peterson had received a revelation from his master. He was to help Mother Earth complete the final corrosion of the Divine Wood, taking a great step toward Her return.
Although he was alone, the skeletons before him were the perfect material for a ritual dance. All he had to do was build a stage for these dancers to please the Great Mother.
"Dammit, there isn’t a single animal here! Should’ve figured out a way to abduct Ella..." Peterson cursed under his breath. He fumbled in his Storage Bag and pulled out a cask of wine, into which he tossed Cloves, Elderberry Powder, and numerous other Spiritual Materials.
For the final step, he gritted his teeth and slit his own palm, continuously squeezing out Blood to flow into the cask.
Peterson watched his life force drip away, gradually feeling weak and dizzy. Finally, it was almost enough. The slurry offered to his god could feel the primal power attached to the great tree’s roots, and it began to boil joyfully. He quickly stopped the bleeding and used Magic to heal his wound.
’My condition isn’t great right now...’ Peterson pulled a handful of powdered herbs from his robes, smearing it on his face while simultaneously swallowing and inhaling it. Instantly, blood rushed to his head with enough force to feel like it would shatter his skull. He felt everything slow down and quiet down, his own heartbeat becoming exceptionally clear.
"Excellent! Excellent!" A smile spread across his face as he used the activated slurry to draw a Magic Array on the ground where the skeletons lay.
Any Apprentice from the Tower of Forest would have been familiar with such a smile. "Teacher Peterson" had always been a gentle and patient instructor, always adjusting his glasses and carefully answering any questions his students had.
’Always, always. He was always just a Low Level Mage! Even with his contributions through papers and teaching, he had struggled just to reach Tier Two. But what was the use? That damned metal plate would only ever flash with blue light. Without crossing the threshold to the Middle Tier, he would never have the chance to become an associate professor, or a full professor!’
’As his colleagues were promoted one by one, as one of his own former students became an associate professor as a Middle Level Mage...’ Peterson continued to face everyone in the Tower of Forest with that same gentle smile. Beneath the smiling mask was a profound despair.
After despair came a turning point. While on a field assignment, Peterson accidentally came into contact with a secret society. At first, he was drawn in by their rituals, which were similar to Natural Magic. But then, within the society’s ridiculous doctrines, he discovered a truth and an opportunity that made him tremble.
’That’s right, those laymen are all idiots. The Great Mother needs an expert like me!’
"Good, excellent." As he neared the end of his drawing, Peterson began to fantasize. ’Once I complete this mission and help the great being return to the earth, I will surely receive the grandest Blessing. I will gain power beyond that of a Mage, and I will personally plant those bastards in the Earth they love so much...’
’The stage is set, and those ridiculous spectators are about to arrive. Right up until the curtain rises, they’re still being kept in the dark by me, Peterson...’
At the edge of the clearing, the woods twisted to part a path. Just as expected, the first to emerge was that blockhead, that noble Great Mage who only knew how to rely on his own power. ’Oh, and behind him is Ella. The perfect sacrifice for this moment. Mother Earth will be pleased...’
"Teacher Peterson? Why are there two Petersons?"
The Apprentice from the Castle of the Forest looked back and forth between the two: one Peterson who had arrived at the great tree first, his eyes bloodshot and face smeared with filth, and the other Peterson who had been traveling with them all along.
The Peterson who had been with them suddenly lunged, grabbing Ella and holding a sharp knife to her throat as he backed away toward the tree.
"Don’t move! The great being is a merciful mother. She won’t care if the sacrifice is fresh or freshly killed, understand? If you want Ella to live a little longer, then you’ll behave and be good spectators!"
Peterson, as well as his deceptively realistic Stand-In, were both much taller than Ella. The young girl was held tightly against his chest. Rorschach and the others stood at the edge of the clearing where it met the forest, about a hundred meters away from the Peterson performing the ritual.
"Tremble! Prostrate yourselves! You foolish mortals!" Peterson couldn’t help but spread his arms wide, welcoming the arrival of his master, welcoming his own bright future.
Then, as everyone watched, the man with his arms spread wide stiffened and fell backward. Just above his brow was a hole two fingers wide, piercing straight through his face to the back of his head. The high heat had cauterized the flesh of the wound, but intracranial pressure slowly forced a yellowish-white-and-red fluid to seep out.
Kou Bo raised a hand, summoning three wolves made of storm clouds, which rushed forward and devoured the corpse. After three thunderclaps, only charred fragments remained, likely eliminating any chance of Peterson regenerating.
Like lining up two points on a single line, the Stand-In holding Ella was pierced in the same way. However, it collapsed because the Caster had died. The disguise faded, revealing the ashen-skinned innkeeper, who had clearly been dead for some time. Ella screamed and ran back to the group.
A high-temperature, high-speed, concentrated line of Fire had killed Peterson, a Cultist who had struck a classic pose right before his death.
"Alexander, you rely too much on your natural senses. I speculate that it was after you and I lost our sensory abilities that Peterson seized the opportunity to swap his real body with this scapegoat. I didn’t expect that young friend Rorschach would be the first to notice." Kou Bo shook his head. After leaving the basement, he had secretly investigated and confirmed that something was off with Peterson.
"You should have prepared sooner! That was too risky!" Humboldt’s face was pale.
"This double of mine has severely limited senses as well! If I had acted before finding his real body, wouldn’t I have just tipped him off?"
Rorschach continued walking toward the great tree. He could feel the winds of Magic Power beginning to stir within the domain, flowing in a familiar pattern. ’Even though the ritual wasn’t activated, has the descent begun anyway?’
"The clown has left the stage. The real trouble is about to begin."
