CHAPTER 112
GHOST OF THE PAST (1)
“Are you that eager to get your head cracked?” Koznot, the dwarven bar owner, said, hitting his table. He was facing Hans, who just came here, demanding the materials for his following modification. “Shouldn’t you ask me for a demonstration first? Don’t you wanna know what I did with your alcohol?” Hans responded without getting intimidated.
“We just let you go last time to give a face to the Count —”
“But you asked me to show what I can accomplish with your stuff. You sure you don’t wanna see it?” Hans interrupted again, but Koznot remained firm and asked him to leave. However, before Hans reached the doors, another dwarf stopped him and, turning to Koznot, asked loudly, “It won’t hurt to take a look, old bones.”
“These younglings and their nonsense, fine ya,” Koznot responded, swatting his desk with the wiping cloth and continued, “Follow me to the testing field, and you better have something worthy of my time.”
While escorting to the place, Hans whispered to the young dwarf beside him, “What happened to him? The last time he asked me if I needed materials, I should show him something incredible, but now he is chasing me away. Is he drunk in the morning or what?”
“Oh, that!” the young dwarf responded, scratching his short beard, “It's nothing new, he is just grumpy. His mood will flip if you have something decent to show. Dwarves are known for their curiosity after all. If you can perk it up, we can be quite generous and give things for free.”
“Yeah, I have read. A dwarf gave away a legendary sword to a human just because he outlasted him in a drinking game, and the weapon wasn’t even in the wager.”
“Yeah, it was our tribe chieftain back in our homeland. you know Hellforge right?" Hans nodded to his question, so he continued, "You could also get something similar if you make him happy but you'll get your head cracked if it's something mediocre.”
“Hmm…”
“He is a psycho, and most of the old ones are. so if you plan on stopping at Hellforge, write your will before.”
They reached the testing field where many dwarves were already present, testing their inventions, and the chief of their ragtag group was also there. “What dragged your wimpy ass here Koznot,” the chief asked, and the bar owner responded, “This human wanted to show something.”
“Oh, then show it.” the chief asked Hans, unlike Koznot, he was in a cheery mood, and hearing those words, Hans stretched his hand out and started focusing. First, a seed formed in his fist, it was the fire-flower seed that he mutated soaking in alcohol and merged it with his vines, and when he got the feeling, he shouted out.
~FlameBind~
The seed wiggled, floating in his hand, and vines sprouted out, surprising the dwarves. But the red-green vines which were enough to startle the dwarves, didn't stop there. Soon they engulfed themselves in the flame upon contact with the air. Writhing like a serpent, it launched itself, swiftly enveloping the testing dummy. And, within seconds, consumed the target, turning it into charred ash.
“That's no magic. It was the real plant,” Koznot said as he was dazed. He was more amazed by the existence of a wood mage rather than the powerful FlameBind. But there was something he couldn’t understand, as far as he knew, this was not possible by any wood mage of the past. So, getting out of his shock, he continued, “You are not conjuring things, but it is permanent. What are you, a god? No, it's half, but how come a half-god exists in these lands and a part human on top of it?” He was muttering things and his word choices intrigued Hans, “What do you mean half-god?” he asked in curiosity. It was something new that he had heard from anyone about him. Koznot was talking to himself, jumbling his words, so the current chief of the group shook him, “What are you mumbling oldy?”
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Koznot shifted his gaze and replied, “Can’t you remember, Imophet asking us to merge with him?”
“Yeah, But every one of us failed ---.”
“However, this brat feels like the one who succeeded or a part of it succeeded," Koznot responded, still staring at Hans, "I felt it when he birthed that seed. It's a fucking life, no magic or wood mages in the past were capable of doing this.” he then took few steps forward, closing his distance to Hans and asked, “Are you also capable of making other living beings?”
“No, only plants,” Hans responded quickly, eager to know more about this half-god theory, and Koznot didn't fail him, “That’s why I said a part of him is a god, not a complete one. Wait..” Koznot paused for a bit and asked in haste, “You were born in the motherland, right?”
“What motherland?” Hans asked back, so Koznot corrected himself, “The sleeping Mountain range that separates Parv and CLandor. The resting place of Mother Osiris. The founding god and mother of Imophet.” He elaborated, but Hans made a grumpy face, hearing his nonstop rambling, and asked, “Can’t you just say, Parv? And, yes, I’m probably from there.”
“Iron balls, no wonder.” The other dwarves kept staring at him more and more like they had found another interesting thing to watch for, and Hans became busy answering them one by one. It was not like he could run away from them. A curious dwarf was much more dangerous than an angry one, and he knew that very well. However, apart from the bustling atmosphere, there was also a transparent, ghostly figure following him quietly. He was levitating right above him, and after listening to Hans carefully, he couldn't help but say, “So the first book he talked about was for his son, greedy bastard. Even in the end, he left it for his blood while sending me in this limbo, just because I wanted more.” He stared at hans once more and realised again how much he looked like his father, sighing he continued, “As long as the most powerful one, the book of Prophecy, remains unclaimed, I still have a chance. I’ll kill this pipsqueak and claim all he has…. But I need to find that first so I can go back and form a body.”
Unaware of the malice, Hans finally took a breath of relief as the dwarves stopped their unceasing questions and asked them what he came here for, “Can you give the GroundShit and BabySugar, now?”
“Yes, yes, Rudar,” Koznot shouted looking at another dwarf, “bring whatever this midget wants.”
“A midget calling me a ‘Midget’, it seems I’m really short, even with dwarven standards. Why can’t I just grow some height, it's been a year, and I grew, what, two or three millimetres.” Hans thought as the dwarf called Rudar brought him the stuff. He didn’t want to stay anymore in this place, and even the offer from Koznot to a trip to the dwarven forge couldn’t entice him. “I’ll be leaving,” he said and quickly got out of the community. However, he was not alone, the ghostly figure still followed him in his every step. His ethereal existence was incapable of harming anyone, but it gave him the advantage of complete stealth. Even the warlords couldn’t detect him, and Rudolf was not the exception either.
“So did you buy everything?” Rudolf asked, finding Hans running around the backyard. “Yeah,” Hans replied and ran past him, leaving him in wonder, what his brat was up to. Finding himself in his private training space, Hans said to himself, “Let's begin.” He tried his best, reading the lines in the book again and again, but he couldn’t create the GroundShit and BabySugar since it was inorganic in nature, “Now what?” It was the first time something that Samson wrote turned out to be false. But giving up the upgrades of SeedBullet’s explosive and camouflage ability was a waste. “Let's try merging things with what I have,” he said to himself again and started creating a seedBullet pallet with the materials as the centre. But the result for BlastBullet was somewhat disappointing. It was heavy and had a short range no matter how tight the mana path for the projectile is stretched. "well. that's it for the range, let's see the firepower ---"
“Boom,” the explosion went off, sending shivers to the mansion, alerting everyone as they hurried towards its epicentre, only to find Hans, squatting, his hands covering his ears, painted in the black ash and coughing up the billowing smoke. “Squeaky," Rudolf shouted in anger, "I just want one day, just a single day without any trouble. Can’t you help your grandpa here? My bones crackle even when I do not move. I’m old, kid, I’m really old for this kinda shit—”
“Where does your age go when you go out with grandma, in your so-called secret outings, Haan…cough, cough,” Hans retorted, coughing up again. He was ranting and arguing with his grandpa, however, the ghost lurking around was surprised to see the size of the explosion, “This brat just cleared the entire field, its potency is at least twice the size of mana bombs from my time. This is serious, he needs to die. Should I call my minions? No, I first need to find that thing, I need to bypass the Parvian fog with it. The Book of Fate is a secondary objective, as long as it's not the book of prophecy. Yes, yes, let's first find that damn thing.”
Sierra came later, and just like her usual routine, she first checked Hans for injury and then nagged him to her heart’s content. Then came Rudolf’s turn, “You have one job, and you aced it, dear husband. Can’t you keep an eye on a single child? Do I have to do everything around…” and it went on for a long-long time.