Chapter 145
One Does not Hang Without a Stage
“What are you looking at, Arryn?” Merida demanded.
Merida and her daughter were the only Dark Elves of their Clan who did not get their tongues severed. They also refused to learn the hand gestures with which the rest of the Clan was forced to create out of necessity, as they considered them debasing their bloodline.
It was this sense of elitism and that made her isolated.
And yet, they were forced to obey everything that the traitorous mother and daughter say. It was humiliating. It was torture.
Arryn’s answer was moving her right thumb across to her left as if inserting it into a hole. It was a gesture widely known by all Elfin Races to be a gesture of utmost rudeness.
Seeing this, Merida was about to fire a Wind Spell in retaliation. But this was stopped by a dog-headed Demon who guarded the entrance into the Bone Eater’s chamber growled. His voice reverberated in the stone hallway. “Cease your prattle, Dark Elf. You may kill each other at your leisure after she has answered Ur-Nagud Bet-Zebek’s call.”
Merida clicked her tongue and left in a rather hurried manner. For she knew Bet-Zebek’s temper. As for Arryn, she tried to swallow her saliva but found that her throat was dry. She tried to stay calm; for a leader must stay strong for her subordinates. Yet the matter of the mind and the heart were different.
For she was about to meet the Demon who ate her father’s heart in front of her eyes.
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Back in Greyvault, Connie was standing before a patient who had begun to show symptoms of advancing towards the late stage of his addiction. He had started to show no desire to eat or drink.
Hagen and Mark stood on the other side of the bed where the patient lie, with the rest of the Herbalists behind them.
“Help him up.”
Connie took out a glass bottle filled with a brown liquid. Once she took the top off, a powerful herbaceous aroma filled their noses.
This was a Potion they created after much trial and error. Connie slowly poured the potion into the patient’s mouth.
They all watched with bated breaths as the patient’s throat moved to swallow the liquid.
“…is it not working?”
“Hold on, hold on. Look…”
The man suddenly sat up and began to Hurl. The experienced Mark quickly gave him a bucket. The man puked out the insides of his stomach. After a few more times, he coughed and spat out a blue, gel-like substance.
“Agh, what did you feed me, you bastards?!” The man cursed the men around him.
But instead of anger, the Herbalists responded with a cheer. Hagen and Mark gave each other a nod of approval. As for Connie, she was more interested in the blue substance that the man puked out.
After handing over the still-confused man to a volunteer, Connie gathered the people involved in the creation of the Potion in a meeting.
“Vomit inducing herbal concoction can only help those who are starting to show symptoms of addiction. It does not work on heavier ones. But with this new Potion, we can treat those with the more advanced conditions!” Hagen said brightly.
“That’s all fine and good, but we still have a lot of things to work out. And don’t forget, we just received more patients after the raid by the Town’s Guards,” Mark said somberly. His words returned the men from their initial good cheer to slight depression.
“Small victories, everyone! Small victories!!” Hagen said, trying to get their spirits up. “We have made more progress in five days than we did in seven months prior!”
“It’s all thanks to our new leader! A master not in just swordsmanship, but also Alchemy! I am still in awe! I have learned a lot of things that still baffles me!”
“Alchemy is not just about experience, but also creativity,” Connie said off-handedly. “You’ve got to dare to make mistakes. Pricy though those mistakes can be.”
“Ah, yes. The woes of all Alchemists. Money.”
Connie waved him off and pushed her back onto her stiff seat. “But enough about that, Mark said sense. We still need to create something to help the patients who had reached the last stage. As for that, the easiest way to make the cure is to decipher the ingredients ourselves,” Connie turned to Mark. “Have you got what I asked you to find out?”
“Yes. Based on the characteristics of the ingredients you asked us to find, we have three candidates for what you seek.”
He showed Connie three realistic drawings of plants complete with details of the colors to their right. The first was a pine-like plant which he called Devil’s Nails. The second was a red-colored plant with palm-sized leaves called Blood Corish. The third was a flower with thin, delicate white petals tinged with a verdant green color whose name was Green Snow.
“Out of all of these, none are endemic to Calendia. I found these out because I’ve been searching through foreign books.”
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“None are local? Then how did they make so much Azure Dream? There must be suppliers!”
“Easy now, let’s not jump to conclusions,” Mark said. “But the man has a point. They need to have a steady stream of supply. However, as you can see, this place is not very lucrative for business. We rarely had suppliers from outside coming in. And if you want to order any of these from outside the country, you will have to wait for months.”
“That’s troubling,” Connie rubbed her chin. “I need to at least have a bite of it to understand its properties and effect.”
While they were thinking, one of the Herbalists, an awkward-looking woman suddenly said. “Well, um. If you are looking for Green Snow, I think a Hunter friend of mine found one before.”
“What? How?” Mark barked.
“He…said he found it on the outskirts of Untouchable Marshes.”
The whole room did a collective slump of the shoulders except for Connie. “Continue,” she said.
“This was a few years ago, while there were Hunters attempting the Dungeon. He courted me with a flower similar to the drawing there. I don’t…remember the specifics, though. We broke up not long after.”
“Untouchable Marshes…that’s a problem,” Mark said thoughtfully. “The Guild lost many good Hunters back then when they were trying to survey the place. And that was before the Dungeon spilled over outside. What do you think, Your Ladyship?”
Connie could not help but did a sly grin. “I think it’s worth a shot.”
Definitely not because I am looking forward to seeing this paradi – I mean – dungeon.
“For now, I will take care of this matter.”
Hagen was surprised. “You personally, Your Ladyship? I have a few friends that I can – “
“No, this is much too important. I will take care of it myself,” she said. She then pushed the blue substance on an iron plate. “Also, I want you to research this. Our patient spat this out after she vomited his insides. And Hagen, can you handle the creation of the new Potion by yourself?”
“Yes, Your Ladyship!”
After that brief meeting, a member of the Town’s Guards assigned to take care of the security of the farmhouse knocked on the door and was permitted to enter. He announced Martell and Illumca’s arrival.
“You all can go,” Connie said and asked him to let her companions in.
“You two look tired,” Connie greeted them while stifling a yawn. Though she did not need much sleep, trying to create an entirely new Potion from scratch still used a lot of mental strength.
“It’s worth it,” Martell said before he began reporting the progress they had in regards to the Greyrats. She listened to him with eyes closed and fingers steepled. Once he was finished, she asked them.
“You did all this…without telling me?”
“It’s my fault. I…asked him to not tell you,” Illumca said. “We can do it by ourselves. I know we can.”
“…” Connie stared at Illumca, whose eyes were burning with such fervent desire. Then glanced at Martell, whose perpetual smile betrayed no emotion. “It seems that I have underestimated your abilities," she let a small chuckle escape her mouth. "You two did a good job.”
She saw Illumca’s lips widen into a happy smile and sighed. “However, this Mister B seems to be a tough nut to crack. Be careful when you provoke him.”
“Yes, Mistress. And...there is also the matter of the hanging tomorrow.”
“Hanging? Ah,” Connie raised an eyebrow. “Almost forgot. How is the preparation going?”
“It went without a hitch. Nick was unexpectedly very knowledgeable about hanging,” Martell reported. “As for the two main attractions tomorrow…they had been very vocal about not wanting to die.”
“And no one’s trying to do anything to those two?”
“Unfortunately, not.”
“Hmm. I suppose either they are unable to do so, or they think they are not worth it,” Connie rubbed her chin. “Never mind then. The hanging will give the people closure. It will go as scheduled. Also, I want you to announce to the townspeople that we have found the cure for the early symptoms of Azure Dream.”
“Is it wise to do so, so early?” Illumca asked.
“It will give them hope, at least. And hope is in scarce supply these days,” Connie spoke. She then got up from her seat, rubbing her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. “If that is all, I am going to have a bit of a laydown.”
Illumca saw this and spoke. “I’m coming with you.”
Connie did not refuse as Illumca took her arm and walked beside her.
Martell watched the two of them leave and let out a small exasperated sigh.
“Back to work for me then.”
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The news was soon broken by Harrison’s team that a cure had been found for the Azure Dream, the drug that had taken many away from their families. The townspeople did not quickly trust the news, but after seeing some of the family members of the patients affirming the news, they rejoiced. Praises and adulations were given to the Lady of Arleine.
Yes, but that was not all. As the hanging was tomorrow, the people were ecstatic. They had long been suppressed and dismayed by their Mayor. As such, there was no cause for celebrations for months. With the news and the subsequent event tomorrow, things quickly turned chaotic.
Harrison stared at the mountains of paper in front of his desk and wanted to cry. He did not expect that succeeding in removing Hordin from office would mean he had to take up the work that had been neglected for years. But soon, the man became even more aghast when he saw the administrative workers coming in with even more piles due to the hanging tomorrow. Last moments’ requests for stalls came in in droves.
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That evening, unlike the excitement that the townspeople had, the Dark Elf named Merida slammed her hands onto a fragile wooden table and broke it half.
“How…! HOW! How the hell did this happen in less than two weeks?!” Merida glowered.
Due to Bet-Zebek’s order, she had no choice but to come to Greyvault personally with some of her men using a secret path. What she did not expect was how things had changed so drastically. Everything that she had built for many months had been torn apart within days. It was like the world was playing a joke on her.
The current Town’s Guards and members of the Hero Killer’s Party are too strong. The new Lady of Arleine managed to kill one of our best mercenaries even after he used an undiluted Azure Dream.
“What?” Merida’s eyes widened. The unexpected answer caused her to narrow her eyes in disbelief. “Impossible!”
We just got the report. One of our contacts did try to send us a message. But he failed as the hideout was raided before he got a chance to.
“Dammit!”
This wouldn’t have happened if she got more men. But twenty of them had perished in the name of duty this year, and at least ten had been killed due to angering Bet-Zebek and used as food by his Demons. Leaving them with only seventy people in Calendia. About half of whom were non-combatants.
She knew that her men were disposable in the eyes of Bet-Zebek and the Demons under him. They would not care if all of them were gone.
She was biting her thumbnail in frustration until it bled.
“Fortunately, the former Mayor and the Town’s Guards' former Captain knows nothing, we could just abandon them,” Merida said after she calmed down. “But this Cornelia Asterium Steelheart…had fucked everything up. She needs to die.”
She then looked at the report in her hand and saw a distasteful name. The name of the Half-Blood that had dirtied her Clan. “…Kh, that I would see this insufferable name even after she’s bit the dust…” she swallowed the blood from her wounded thumb in anger. “Yes, she is dead. There is no way this is the same girl.”
As long as I finish the job, it won’t matter. And when Ged-Abinadab fulfilled his promise, then those fools that cannot see that working with the Demons is the only way forward will see the error of their ways.
For now, the Hero Killer, or whatever her name is, must die.
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In the darkness, Henri-Artur who was crouching motionless with her eyes closed was smiling. Using her Passive Skill that she had mastered to its peak, Sharp Hearing, she managed to isolate the voices of the Dark Elves and their secret meeting from a hidden place.
Although the Dark Elves were good, they were far from being as good as Le Fou.
“Oho, is a good show is coming?”