Polymath Redux
Chapter 7//Two sides of the same coin: The Hero and Villain
Seeing the injured man dying before him, Mordred felt a small twinge of guilt, but ultimately let it slide past him. It was a strange feeling that even though it was the first time he had witnessed such a horrific wound on a living person, there wasn’t much repulsion or disgust- he felt pity but that was the extent. “Sorry, I was a bit late, but I’ll save you now,” he told the man as he crouched down to cast elementary-tier healing magic. Tiny particles of light surrounded them as the mana was being activated; like a reverse snowfall the light particles slowly ascended with majesty. Once he could confirm the bleeding was stopped, he took out a small vial containing a mysterious red liquid from his pocket: a health potion. “Here, drink this,” he helped the man up and slowly poured it into his mouth.
After a moment, the man burst up and coughed violently. “W- what…?” he asked, taking several deep breaths as though he had just been brought back to life after drowning. “Haaah… haaahhhh…! What… happened?” the man’s injuries quickly disappeared like it had all been a lie. “Im- impossible! How?”
“Oh, thank you for saving us!” an elderly man suddenly stepped out from the crowd of frightened villagers. From his looks he appeared to be around his late sixties, or perhaps early seventies. It was likely that this person was the village’s chief.
“I’m just glad I made it before the monster could do anything irreversible,” Mordred replied with a relieved sigh. “I had actually noticed the monster roaming around before but failed to make it in time to warn you. I apologize.”
“No, no… you’ve already done more than we could hope for; there’s no need for you to feel responsible about this,” the elderly man’s trembling hands grasped tightly around Mordred’s as he continued to thank. “Truly, thank you!” After professing his gratitude, the elder introduced himself, “my name is ‘Duncan’, and I’ve served as this village’s chief for fifty years. And the man who you saved is the captain of the local garrison: ‘August’.”
“Yeah, I’m grateful,” the slightly tanned soldier stood back up to shake Mordred’s hand. “Really, I wasn’t sure what would happen there. Hah hah… Whew…”
“It’s no problem. I’m known as ‘Mordred’, a doctor.”
“A doctor?” the soldier- August- let out in surprise. “I thought for certain you were a swordsman or a hero. I mean, you managed to cut down that monster which none of us could even touch.”
“Ah, that’s because of this,” Mordred told them as he revealed the Divine-class item ‘Beautiful Demise’. It was a thin, transparent blue sword made up of ice and let off a frosty aura. Everything about it had an otherworldly presence about it, as though it was something from beyond the realm of mortals. “This sword was a gift from a noble I saved a long time ago. Regrettably, my own skills are paltry, but this sword allows me to cut down almost anything.”
“I see, that’s quite the weapon. Comparable to the nation’s treasure even.”
“Yes, but for now we should…” before Mordred could propose something, the voice of a little girl interrupted them.
“Big brother!” Morialia cried out as she appeared from the front gate and ran towards them. Her demonic features had been carefully hidden away through magic and she was even running as opposed to flying about, making her appear more like a normal Human. Since they had similar colour schemes, the story of her and Mordred being siblings was extra believable. “I’ve checked the perimeter; there doesn’t seem to be any other monsters.”
“All right.” Mordred nodded then turned to introduce her, “this is my younger sister, Morialia. She’s kind of like an apprentice of mine.”
“A rather cute one,” the village elder joked with a small chuckle. “Welcome to our village.”
“Right, as I was about to say. Chief, could I borrow one building to serve as a clinic? There looks to be quite the number wounded soldiers, so I wish to treat them. With your permission, of course. As a doctor, I can’t let them be like this. If there are any injured among the villagers, I’d be happy to fix them too.”
“Cerrtainly! That would be of great help to us,” the chief went along heartily.
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It took almost two hours to treat all the wounded, and afterwards Mordred and Morialia found a moment of privacy and reprieve.
“Gah! You know, it would’ve literally taken, like, ten seconds to use ‘Light of Salvation’ to heal everyone!” Morialia complained with a pout as she seemed to have felt annoyed being made to play nurse and run around. ‘Light of Salvation’ was a Grand Master-tier Cleric magic that had multiple effects: healing all wounds, replenishing health, mana and stamina, removed all negative status conditions and granted 30% total damage reduction for the next hour or so. It was an invaluable skill for high-level raid content, though a bit of an overkill to use on a simple village out in the middle of nowhere.
“Are you an idiot? I’m not going to do something that eye-catching.”
“Says the guy who let loose that ‘Hundred Eyed Devourer’. If that wasn’t eye-catching, then I don’t know what else is.” Morialia shrugged. The ‘Hundred Eyed Devourer’ was a mid-boss to a relatively low-level dungeon, but even then, it had proven too difficult for regular people from this world to handle. In terms of combat strength, it sat just a bit lower than the flame dragon. Low-level monsters like these could be summoned through a onetime-use item known as the ‘Monster Call Scroll’, though the summoned monster was not a subordinate of the summoner. Instead, it was a neutral monster that could become hostile if attacked, otherwise it would simply go on a rampage. “What was even the point of all that? You even went back to summon another one at the place we had our fake fight.”
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“Trust. And I wanted to test things out.”
“Trust?”
“As you pointed our earlier, what we need right now is general information about this world. There’s no guarantee that these villagers would tell us the truth if a couple of strangers just showed up at their doorstep demanding it. So, I decided to put them in my debt first then have them talk. They’re much less likely to lie to their saviour after all. Besides, while backwater villagers probably don’t have too keen of an insight into the political situation of this country, it’d also be less cause for alarm. Imagine if we went up to an important figure and asked questions, they’d immediately think we were spies, but no one would become suspicious if we asked mere villagers,” Mordred explained with a callousness that didn’t reflect a hint of guilt at what he had done. “There was also my curiosity about the relative strength of combat-capable people in this world. I doubt a local garrison is a definitive measure, but I think I’ve gotten the gist.”
“Then, what about the other Hundred Eyed Devourer?”
“Trust.”
“Again?”
“If something isn’t broken, then there’s no need to fix it; repeat what happened here. Once the investigators come to search out the site, they’ll probably be overwhelmed by the monster, which is where I’d come in and save them- putting them under my debt in the process. Afterwards, I can feed them all manner of falsified information suitable to me. I’ve also placed my ‘Spectral Observers’ around there so I’ll be alerted if someone comes close.” ‘Spectral Observers’ were an intermediate-tier Archer skill that summoned observers in the form of ravens as scouts.
“Are, are you sure you’re not the real Demon Lord here?”
“Gathering information passively is inefficient and slow. It’s the same principle as in PvP oriented games; rather than waiting for the opponent to make a move, actively creating situations for conflict and luring them in gives us better overall control.” Mordred let out a sinister smirk as he answered, “besides, weren’t you the one who wanted a comfortable place to sleep? I’ve secured one for us.”
A sudden knock came from the door. “Doctor? It’s Duncan, may I come in?”
“Yes, of course!” as easily as putting on a glove, Mordred’s personality swiftly changed into that of a friendlier and more cordial one- even his voice had become lighter. With his permission, two people entered the room: the village elder and the captain of the local Garrison.
“I’d like to thank you again for all your help,” the both of them told him. “If there is anything you require, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Then, perhaps I’ll take you up on your offer?” Mordred then detailed his made up back story. About how he and his ‘sister’ were on a journey to perfect their skills as doctors and research more medicine. “We’ve been on foot for the past few months so we’re a bit exhausted. If you don’t mind, we’d like to stay awhile in this village. Of course, we’ll also be happy to help around if there is a need.”
“Certainly! Please stay for as long as you need,” the village elder was quick to reply. That was a matter of course, since this village didn’t seem to have any medical professionals, and even the garrison only had very rudimentary knowledge on healing magic and medicine. For a professional like Mordred, his stay would immediately become a great boon to the community. “Is there anything else you’d need?”
“Well, perhaps a couple of things,” Mordred replied. “I’d like to help stock up the village’s medicine reserves, so if you could, please bring me all the medicinal herbs you may have. I can probably turn them into more effective medicine for you.” There were two main reasons for such a request. The first was to see what kind of herbs existed in this world and if they were in any way similar to the ones from the game. The second reason was Mordred himself; the Alchemist class in the game could create many things, but most commonly were potions. Since production skills were less like traditional skills and more ‘knowledge’ he wanted to see if he still retained those kinds of abilities also.
“Right, we’ll have them prepared by tomorrow morning.”
“Ah, just one more thing. This may be a weird request, but if you could, please tell me more about the situation in this country. Regrettably, in our pursuit of medical knowledge we’ve been pretty secluded from the rest of the world. I figured it might be time to catch up with current events.”
“Oh, that’s quite admirable of you,” the garrison captain nodded. “If you’re fine with me, I could tell you a thing or two.”
“Then, I’ll be in your debt,” Mordred thanked in advance.
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This country was known as ‘Xagontetia’, the ‘Sun Country’. It was a moderately sized nation with a decent level of technology according to the village chief’s words, though what that exactly entailed was a little vague. They were currently in the midst of a war against a vastly superior Empire called the ‘Baliazoural Empire’, but it seems they’ve somehow managed to hold them off for the time being.
Other than that, terms like ‘Hero’, ‘Demon Lord’ and ‘Gods’ were thrown around, but it didn’t seem like there were any clear details surrounding those. The garrison captain had recommended that Mordred go to a library at the capital if he wanted to know more about these topics.
“I see,” as night fell, Mordred let out a sigh as he sat looking out of a window. “Perhaps it’s due to the lagged technological level of this world, but it seems information is rarely consolidated. Most soldiers don’t know how the war situation is progressing on the eastern borders.” He had expected it, but it was a lot less information to go on. Though, the one thing he understood was that this country would probably lose the war simply due to logistics; the opposing Empire had a grander army.
“So, are you planning on helping this country? What’s it called again? Xagon… something or rather,” Morialia asked as she walked out of the outdoor bath wearing only a single oversized white shirt.
“Xagontetia? Well, doesn’t everyone love the story of underdogs? I suppose I can’t help but root for them because of it. Still, they’ll probably lose out in the end.”
“Then you should do something. Use your magic powers and go ‘pow!’ and knock out the Empire. You did manage to defeat me- a Demon Lord- several hundred times over in fact, so an Empire is probably nothing for you, right?”
“Demon Lord… is it? That does give me an idea. Instead of helping them out directly, I could augment their forces with some of my own.”
“And how do you plan on doing that? You’re not just going to drop an army on them, are you?”
“Close. Perhaps I’ll make it burst out of the ground.”
“Huh?” Morialia stopped and returned a confused gaze.
“For example, an undead army bursts out of the ground from the capital, claiming that this was their ancient burial ground and this country so rudely built a city on top of them. Then after some shenanigans we can have this country and the undead form an alliance of sorts.”
“That… okay, but if you do that you realize you’ll never be able to claim you’re the good guys, right? You’re literally going to have the stigma of having associated with the undead.”
“Isn’t it fine?”
“Haaahhhhhh… Whatever you will, ‘master’. So, what do you plan on doing now? Like, right now.”
“Originally, I wanted to gather some information and go on my way, but it appears my decision to cause a situation in the forest was the right one. If we really had waited passively then we’d get nowhere- it’s all insufficient. Since this village is close to ‘ground zero’, it’d be more than likely that investigators will come through here. So, we’ll be staying in this village until the conditions have been met.”
“Well, I guess it’s fine,” said Morialia as she jumped onto her soft bed. “It’s nothing compared to the bed I had back in my castle, but it’ll do for the moment. Good night!”