Chapter 107

Chapter 107
Duke Komalon’s Office.

“…So, it was a failure? And Marquis Palatio has the Dragon Spirit’s egg?”

“Correct.”

The dark elf gave a serene nod, and Duke Komalon released a humorless, brittle laugh.

“Marquis Palatio… What business could he possibly have had in the Dragon Spirit’s egg’s chamber?”

“The precise motive remains unclear, but it appears he was acting on an invitation from another.”

“An invitation? From whom?”

The dark elf offered no reply to the duke’s query. Recognizing the absence of answers, Duke Komalon released a sigh of irritation.

“Marquis Palatio… of all the people…”

He paused in thought for a brief time, then placed the fountain pen he was toying with back onto the desk.

“What of our other arrangements?”

“All other aspects are advancing sequentially, with the exception of the Dragon Spirit’s egg. The timeline remains short. The test subjects are developing as projected.”

The duke let out a heavy breath upon hearing this.

“Make certain every detail is in order.”

“Understood.”

“And concerning Marquis Palatio…”

The duke’s words trailed off once more.

“…Should we make an attempt to reclaim the Dragon Spirit’s egg?”

The dark elf ventured the question carefully, but the duke dismissed it with a shake of his head.

“Unnecessary. With the awakening having failed, the Dragon Spirit’s egg no longer holds relevance for our design.”

“…What are your orders, then?”

“Dispatch the test subjects.”

“The test subjects?”

“Indeed. They have outlived their purpose regardless, so eliminate them. If we can gauge the marquis’s strength while doing so, that is an added benefit.”

“It will be done.”

“See that they carry a plausible pretext.”

As the dark elf bowed and vanished from sight, Duke Komalon observed in silence, his features clouded with bewilderment.

“How could he possibly have succeeded in taking the Dragon Spirit’s egg…?”

His mind could not form a logical picture, and his face clearly showed his puzzlement.

He inhaled deeply, attempting to settle the disquiet beginning to churn inside him.

At this critical juncture, with the grand design nearing its culmination, it was essential he keep his composure.

If for no other reason.

“Everything for the grand design.”

He repeated the mantra he had told himself countless times in silence.

***

‘Could it have been a misperception?’

Reinhardt knew.

He was conscious of the possibility that he might be wrong.

No, he felt with near certainty that it was probably either a misjudgment or a simple trick of the mind.

Because, by any rational measure, it was impossible.

The back of Marquis Palatio, who lived in the Kingdom of Asteria, could not realistically bear any resemblance to the colossal statue he had witnessed inside the Domain of the Hundred Ghosts.

‘It must be so.’

Even as he accepted the irrationality and the high probability of coincidence, he could not prevent his mind from overlaying the man before him with the image burned into his memory.

The sweeping black coat, and the two mismatched eyes—one dark, one azure.

It was a perfect match.

The intense recollection of that instant was only magnified by the sheer, mortal fear he had experienced, permanently etching the vision of the Hundred Ghosts and the statue behind them into his thoughts.

Staring vacantly in his stupor, Reinhardt gazed at the figure ahead until—

“Eliminate the trespassers!”

The sudden shout from the Thunder Serpent Tribe snapped him back to awareness.

He lifted his sword, channeling magic into the blade.

But then—

“…?”

He halted his movements at once.

The Thunder Serpent warriors, who had appeared poised to attack with weapons ready, were now standing completely still, shaking violently.

And in that moment, Reinhardt perceived it.
The strands of Za’an extended across the whole forest.

Invisible to the normal eye, those capable of sensing magic could observe the threads spreading like a spider’s web over the entire vicinity, ensnaring every single tribesperson.

The sole individual putting up any resistance was—

“Curse you—!”

The man who had been aiming his sword at Marquis Palatio.

Regrettably, he too was now fully restrained.

….

In contrast to the others, who merely had their limbs fastened by the threads, the man standing directly in front of Alon was almost entirely wrapped in Za’an’s threads, like a mummy, with only his head left free.

To what degree?

The threads were pulled so taut that, in a split second, the man could have been sliced into mere fragments.

And Deus’s expression, as he stared at the man who had the audacity to level a sword at the Marquis, was frigid enough to be called glacial—a palpable cold that anyone could feel.

‘It seems the sword belongs not to Caliban, but to Marquis Palatio himself.’

Reinhardt, turning the idea over in his mind, observed as the confrontation concluded with jarring speed, leaving him with a vague feeling of emptiness.

‘I couldn’t even process it… just how powerful is that man growing?’

As Reinhardt wrestled with a sting of envy toward Deus, who had clearly progressed in power during the time Reinhardt wasn’t observing him—

Alon’s attention settled on a resistant member of the Thunder Serpent Tribe, masked and writhing against their bonds.

‘It was wise to bring Deus… although…’

Alon released a soft sigh as he observed the exceptionally brilliant, luminous threads of Za’an glittering in the air.

Naturally, he could have subdued the tribesperson himself with the flash of biting cold he could summon, making dialogue feasible. Even so, Deus’s involvement had unquestionably simplified matters.

Yet, a sliver of apprehension rose in Alon’s thoughts.

The reason? These radiant Za’an threads, displayed for the first time by Deus in Alon’s presence, were eerily similar to the technique Deus had employed during his awakening into sin—if one ignored the difference in the threads’ coloration.

‘…Surely not.’

Turning his head slightly, Alon cast a look back at Deus.

“Shall I execute them, Marquis?”

Deus inquired in his characteristically even, emotionless voice.

“No.”

As Alon responded, he was uncertain whether to feel comforted or more concerned.

‘This ability could just be the natural skill of a sword master, not necessarily linked to his awakening as one of the Five Great Sins. However…’

Dismissing the notion, Alon redirected his focus to the subdued tribesman, his brow furrowing slightly.

“…Ordinarily, they wouldn’t mobilize this rapidly after an outsider is detected. What is the reason for this?”

Surveying the dozens of Thunder Serpent Tribe members encircling him, Alon tilted his head in mild puzzlement before giving a slight shrug.

‘It seems we’ll have to talk.’

Watching the tribesperson snarl in a voice more animal than human, Alon sighed.

“I shall arrive at the sky’s reflection in the shallows. Greet the coming dawn with gladness, as I shall rejoice in it with you.”

At Alon’s unexpected declaration, Evan, Deus, and Reinhardt traded confused glances.

However—

“!.”

The somewhat lyrical, extended phrase appeared to have an effect. The previously snarling tribesperson fell silent, their masked eyes wide with shock.

Noting this shift, Alon pressed on.

“What do you say? Is that sufficient to earn me a meeting with your chieftain?”

Alon himself had no understanding of what his words signified.

But he had delivered them with such assurance because he clearly recalled his encounter with the Thunder Serpent Tribe in the game. A quest had involved the tribe, and an NPC had used that exact phrase to gain peaceful entry.

Confident yet wary, Alon watched the tribesperson.

“How… how can you know those words…?”

The tribesperson muttered in disbelief, but finally yielded.

“…Come with me.”

Content, Alon allowed a slight smile to appear.

***

Stepping into the village of the Thunder Serpent Tribe, Alon’s initial impression was one of profound mystery.

Although he had seen its images many times before, being there in person was a completely different experience. The Thunder Serpent Tribe’s village was erected upon the remains of ancient ruins.

Alon’s eyes swept the area.

Dwellings, reminiscent of elven homes, were fashioned within trees, while others were made from repaired ruins. Members of the Thunder Serpent Tribe, emerging from these buildings, watched Alon’s group with cautious, suspicious stares.

As the party moved through the village under the tribe’s watchful eyes, they reached the center, where an enormous temple stood.

Alon admired the temple’s majesty, which seemed less a constructed edifice and more a natural component of the environment.

A tribesperson wearing a four-horned mask motioned toward the temple and stated, “Follow me.”

Once inside the temple, the group soon reached a large interior tent. There, they encountered an elderly man robed in white fur, similar to the other tribespeople.

‘He isn’t the chieftain I recall from the game,’ Alon thought as he studied the elder.

Despite the creases around his eyes, the elder’s gaze was piercing and keen as he regarded Alon.

“…I am told you requested an audience with me,” the elder said. “Is this accurate?”

Hearing himself addressed as an “honored guest,” Alon briefly looked confused. Then, he understood—it was undoubtedly due to the phrase he had spoken earlier.

‘That’s correct. That NPC was also received as an honored guest.’

Remembering the young girl NPC who had accompanied him through the jungle only to depart as soon as the quest was complete, Alon gave a slight, internal nod.

“Yes, that is true,” he replied.

“First, I shall give you my name. I am the leader of the Thunder Serpent Tribe, called the ‘Wise Ashgul,’” the elder said.

“I am Marquis Palatio,” Alon answered.

As the elder inclined his head respectfully, Alon returned the gesture and gave his own introduction.

“Show your respect,” Ashgul instructed.

At his command, the tribesperson who had worn the four-horned mask earlier took it off.

‘…A woman?’

Alon was inwardly startled. He had assumed the tribesperson was male, but it was revealed to be a young woman with a fresh face. And not just any woman—

‘… Swift Syrkal?’

“I am Swift Syrkal,” she announced.

Understanding dawned on Alon. She was the one fated to become the next chieftain of the Thunder Serpent Tribe. With this new knowledge, he regarded her with renewed interest.

“And now,” Ashgul continued, “might I inquire what purpose brings you to seek my counsel?”

At the elder’s question, Alon began to consider how best to articulate his goal.

He stayed quiet for a time, deep in contemplation, but soon, with a small, resolute nod, he appeared to reach a decision.

“The purpose for which I have come to the Thunder Serpent Tribe,” he started, looking the Wise Ashgul squarely in the eye,

“is to defeat the deity you worship—‘Basiliora the Receiver.’”

At this staggering statement, everyone present was struck dumb, their jaws slack with pure astonishment.