[V11C27] Woof

After obtaining the dragon detector blueprints from the Dragon Slayer Mage, Isaac remained in the palace for a few days.

He wanted to visit Sazandol immediately, but there were still many tasks he had to finish, such as analyzing the dragon detector, arranging for Silas’s funding, and gathering information about Theodore Maxwell’s movements.

One night, at his room in the palace, Isaac was writing a reply to a letter from Chairman Anderson of the Anderson Company.

The reply included documents describing underwater reconnaissance magic. Isaac paused to review them once final time.

This was a research effort acknowledged by Chairman Anderson.

Now this is something worthy of my respect. I salute whoever came up with this underwater reconnaissance magic.

His research being appreciated made Isaac’s chest swell with joy. He clenched his fists and remembered back to that feeling.

At that moment, he was genuinely happy. It felt like Isaac Walker, a man supposed to be long dead, had been recognized as a living human again.

(Do not let yourself get carried away, Isaac Walker.)

But along with the joy of being recognized, Isaac also felt a creeping sense of guilt.

Monica’s father, Dr. Benedict Raine, had invented the Black Chalice. However, his research was buried in darkness, and he was executed to conceal the substitution of the Second Prince.

Dr. Raine’s research did not see the light of day until Monica reproduced it. So why should Isaac be allowed to rejoice at the results of his own research?

(Do not forget. I am responsible for the death of Monica’s father.)

Isaac pressed his clasped hands against his forehead and closed his eyes.

Isaac Walker was the criminal indirectly responsible for Dr. Raine’s death. He did not have the right to be happy about his research.

…Even so, he wanted to be allowed one thing at the very least: the sight of Monica saying, “Ike, you’re amazing!” and praising him with sparkling eyes.

Isaac remembered back to how his petite master stretched her arm to pat him on the head. He unconsciously reached for his bangs.

Tomorrow, he would depart the palace and head to Sazandol. Once he arrived, he would give Monica his analysis of the dragon detector.

He had the option to entrust this delivery to a subordinate, but it contained confidential information about the dragon detector’s blueprints, and only Monica and Isaac knew about Nero’s true identity. In that case, he needed to hand it to Monica directly, without using any intermediaries.

But most importantly, Isaac knew that he wouldn’t be able to move freely once he returned to Erin.

Isaac wanted to see Monica’s face, even if it was for a short period of time.

＊　＊　＊

“I-I’m done… It’s ready…!”

In a laboratory within the Sazandol branch of the Mage Association, Monica dropped her quill and raised her voice.

On the opposite side of the table, Ray, who was mixing chemicals, paused what he was doing to look at Monica.

“Y-You’re done already…?” Ray asked.

“Yes, I’ve finished writing the spell for removing shadows. It should work now… probably.”

The shadows controlled by Gluttonous Zoe had three effects:

  1. Attaching to someone and putting them in a comatose state.

  2. Absorbing the mana of the targets, and sending it to Gluttonous Zoe’s main body.

  3. Controlling the target like a puppet if they meet certain conditions.

To address these issues, Monica had been developing a spell to peel the shadows off of the victims.

Regarding the comatose state issue, her experience in undoing Cyril’s coma at Mount Kalug proved useful.

Back then, Ashelpikeh had used ice magic to forcibly halt Cyril’s bodily functions, so it was not completely the same as Gluttonous Zoe’s dark magic. Still, they possessed the similarity of putting the target in a state of suspended animation.

Once a person was frozen with magic, simply tearing off that magic would cause immense damage to their body. Therefore, they needed to follow a specific procedure to dispel the magic and avoid side-effects.

Ray examined the documents in front of Monica and let out a gasp of admiration.

“Wow, it’s only been ten days since we came to Sazandol… I thought it would take way longer…”

“Um, it’s thanks to the records Adeline-sama left behind,” Monica explained.

Curses were a completely different school of magic, so there were many aspects that Monica did not have a complete grasp over. However, the previous Abyss Shaman Adeline had performed an analysis on the mana arrangement of the shadows, putting it in a way that ordinary mages could understand.

Without the earrings Adeline left behind, it probably would have taken an additional month for the analysis alone.

Ray stood up and retrieved a glass case from the shelf. The case contained a small piece of skin from the back of Louis’s neck, floating in a transparent fluid. It was the scrap that Ray had shaved off in the capital.

“Y-You want to try it now…?” Ray asked.

“Yes!”

Monica picked up the scrap of skin with a pair of tweezers, setting it on the glass plate of the workbench. Then, she touched it with her fingertip.

(Deploying spell… activate.)

Her fingertip radiated a white glow, which enveloped the scrap of skin… Or more accurately, it had slipped in between the shadow and the skin. Slowly but surely, the white light chipped away at the shadow.

Like a peeled off scab, the black shadow slid off the scrap of skin, falling onto the glass plate before disappearing altogether.

Immediately, Monica invoked an analysis spell.

“…Success. The shadow has completely vanished. Next, I’ll analyze the residue mana on the skin…”

Monica took the tweezers again, but was interrupted by the door slamming open without a knock.

A red-haired woman with a flashy dress barged into the room. It was Melissa, carrying a large paper bag in her hands.

“Hey there, shut-ins. The kind Melissa has brought you something nice for you. Be grateful.”

As usual, Ray frowned upon hearing Melissa’s loud voice. Meanwhile, Monica lifted the glass plate and showed it to her.

“Onee-san, it worked! I removed the shadow! The spell is complete!”

“Eh, already? It’s only been ten days.”

“Ah, um, well, we still need more verification before removing the shadow from a living subject… But I succeeded in removing the shadow from the skin sample.”

Monica hastily clarified her explanation, as Melissa took out an opened letter from her bag. It seemed to be a report from the capital.

“This is the latest report from the Barrier Mage. They haven’t detected the dragons or Gluttonous Zoe making any significant movements, for now at least. Also, they’ve sent some more skin samples from the comatose victims.”

Melissa retrieved a set of glass cases wrapped in cloth, lining them up on the table. These contained scraps of skin from the comatose victims who had been in contact with the shadows.

They had already collected many samples before leaving the capital, but since the samples may degrade over time, additional samples were sent later.

Each case listed the name, age, and gender of the person they had been collected from. After reading one of them, Monica widened her eyes.

“…Eh… Captain Dunning?”

One of the samples had come from Captain Dunning of the Dragon Knight’s 7th Investigation Division.

As a man who despised everything about dragons, he had attempted to slay a mother dragon by using her child as bait. This ultimately led to a conflict with Monica.

But why would his name be among the victims?

Noticing Monica’s confusion, Melissa explained while looking at the report.

“Seems like they found him collapsed on the outskirts of the capital. He probably bumped into Theodore on his way back from Lugaroa.”

“…I see.”

Although they had faced off as enemies in Dalsmore, Monica was still shocked to hear he was assaulted by Theodore.

Currently, the comatose victims included the Starspear Witch, the Starseer Witch, two witches from House Roseberg, Frieda, Elianne’s two male guards, Captain Dunning, and several students and teachers of Minerva.

The other three victims were not comatose, but had something precious stolen from them: Louis, Rutherford, and Elianne.

(If Gluttonous Zoe is sucking mana from all of them… then it should have a considerable amount by now…)

It was still unclear what Theodore intended to do with this mana, but he would temporarily lose his supply once they removed the shadows from the victims.

As Monica was contemplating this, Melissa voiced a question while crumpling the empty paper bag.

“By the way, if we remove the shadows, do the ‘precious things’ or whatever that were stolen come back?”

“P-Probably not…” Monica replied.

Taking over for her, Ray explained the rest.

“The skin and hair of that lady, the Barrier Mage’s braids, and the Smoke Mage’s age… All of those have been swallowed and incorporated into Gluttonous Zoe. I assume they are still inside… if they haven’t been completely digested, that is.”

“…Digested? Is that a thing?” Melissa asked, wrinkling her nose.

“That’s something we won’t know for sure until we investigate Gluttonous Zoe directly…” Ray answered.

If Gluttonous Zoe indeed digested what it stole, Louis would probably be fine. However, Elianne would never be able to appear in public again, and Rutherford would have to restart his academic career as a student.

(If only there was some way we could track down Gluttonous Zoe… I’ve tried tracing the flow of the mana supply, but that’s too small for accurate measurements…)

As Monica crossed her arms and fell deep into thought, Ray approached Melissa.

“…So? How is your side of the investigation going? If you keep coming back empty-handed, they’ll say you’re neglecting your job again.”

“Shut it. I’m a pro at magecraft, not espionage. It’s not easy to find a single person in a city this big.”

Melissa had been sent to Sazandol to search for clues about Theodore Maxwell, the wielder of Gluttonous Zoe. First, she intended to find the mage from Randall named Throth.

Throth had been tampering with Melissa’s magical potions and selling them as illegal drugs. Once caught, he had been handed over to Anthony and his brothers from the Randall Knights.

Neither Monica nor Melissa had seen Anthony since the incident, so they knew nothing about Throth’s current location.

That said, Anthony was drinking buddies with the embroidery artisan Porok, so Melissa had Lana introduce her to Porok to inquire about Anthony’s whereabouts. However, Porok said that he had not seen Anthony recently.

“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Randall Knights secretly transported Throth back to their home country. In which case, I need to find someone else with a connection to Theodore. Except the shop where he was working has already shut down, so I have no more leads! Ugh…!”

＊　＊　＊

Indeed, the bar and illegal drug distributor where Theodore Maxwell used to work was closed for the foreseeable future… but this was only a cover story. In actuality, the Randall Knights had secretly taken over and occupied the building.

“You know, I really love dogs,” said a man on the second floor of the building.

He appeared to be a kind young man with fluffy black hair. However, his smile was cold, and his leather gloved hands were holding a nasty-looking whip.

The man’s name was Teodor Winkel, the fourth son of Baron Winkel. He was renowned as the ace of the Randall Knights Intelligence Division, famous for his relentless interrogation techniques.

Many of his fellow knights joked that they would never turn their backs on the law because they didn’t want to be interrogated by him.

The other man in the room, Samuel Throth, looked up at Teodor with vacant eyes.

Throth had always taken good care of his appearance, combing his hair, shaving his beard, and dressing himself up in expensive clothing. But the current Throth was a shadow of his former self.

The combination of his unkempt beard, sunken cheeks, and hollow eyes made him look quite pitiful.

In the beginning, Throth had maintained his pride as a mage from a prestigious family. He retained enough composure to talk back during his interrogation.

However, his pride was trampled, his dignity was ground into the dirt, and his identity was denied. Throth was mentally driven into a corner and pushed to the limit.

“Dogs are cute, aren’t they?” Teodor continued. “They’re so clever, obedient, and smart.”

Calling something both clever and smart was redundant, but Throth did not have the energy to muster a cheeky retort.

As Throth let out a raspy breath, Teodor caressed the whip in his gloved hands. This was not a riding crop, but a bull whip for training livestock.

“By the way, I never use a whip for disciplining dogs…”

As a dog lover, Teodor never swung his whip at a dog. It was for striking the humans he captured.

He cracked the snake-like whip, making a sharp thud as it hit the floor.

“Now, which one are you?” Teodor asked.

Throth immediately stuck out his tongue and started panting, acting like he was a dog. No, this was not simply an act; he was a dog.

“…Woof.”

Throth found himself woofing before he realized it. He had fallen to rock bottom, putting an end to his humanity with his own two hands.

The man who orchestrated this outcome merely chuckled, covering his mouth with a hand. An affectionate laugh, as if he was enjoying the antics of a puppy.

“Hehe, well done. A good boy like you deserves plenty of water and food.”

＊　＊　＊

Teodor departed the room where Throth was confined. He descended the stairs, clattering his leather shoes with each step.

This two-story building had a tavern on the first floor and living quarters on the second. Even after occupying it, they kept the interior mostly unchanged.

Teodor saw his brother Michel reading a report from their homeland at the counter of the first floor. He approached Michel while rewinding his whip.

“Samuel Throth has fallen,” Teodor said.

“I see. Good work. We’ve finally secured a path back to Randall, so that’s good timing.”

Initially, their plan was to return home immediately after capturing the traitor Samuel Throth. However, the organization under Throth turned out to be much bigger than they expected.

The majority of them were, to put it bluntly, just a gathering of random hoodlums. But surprisingly, they had the support of a few Ridill nobles.

Moreover, Throth had grown the organization by absorbing the unemployed and societal outcasts.

As a result, it took quite some time to round up the remnants, as well as investigate their distribution routes.

It was only recently that they wrapped up the cleanup work. About time for them to return to Randall; otherwise, their older brother Anthony would likely lose his seat in the Knights.

Michel rearranged the reports into a neat stack, then turned to Teodor again.

“Well then, let’s tell Anthony-niisan that we’re ready to pull out.”

“Roger that, Michel-niisan.”

“A shame that we have to leave. Sazandol has so many cuties.”

“I know right. I loved playing around with the cuties of Sazandol. It hurts to say goodbye.”

For the record, Michel was reminiscing about cute girls, and Teodor was thinking of the cute puppies.

＊　＊　＊

With his limbs restrained, Samuel Throth laid on the ground staring vacantly at the wall. The only sound reaching his ears was the cawing of a crow.

Crows were said to be messengers from the Goddess of the Underworld, and often associated with death.

The idea of “maybe I would be better off dead” crossed his mind for a moment, but it was just a passing thought. He lacked the courage and energy to do anything for real.

(I just don’t care anymore.)

Throth was too tired. He couldn’t be bothered to think about a way out of this mess, or even what was going to happen to him in the near future.

When a man is utterly exhausted, coherent thought becomes impossible. This described the current Throth perfectly. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to ignore reality and fall asleep.

And yet, the incessant cawing kept him awake.

(Shut up, you damn bird.)

“Ah, I finally found you!”

Suddenly, Throth heard a carefree shout from above his head, and he vaguely recognized the voice. That said, it did not belong to one of the Randall Knights.

Throth lifted his heavy eyelids to find an unimpressive-looking man with messy reddish-brown hair.

“You’re…”

While Throth recognized the man’s face, his name did not come to mind. After all, he was just a grunt at the bottom rungs of the organization, and they only met on a few occasions.

Their first encounter was about half a year ago, when Throth discovered the man sleeping like a corpse in the warehouse they used for transactions.

Despite the man’s pitiful appearance, he possessed a fancy-looking box covered in jewels, which Throth stole from him.

“I, Theodore, the contractor of Gluttonous Zoe, command you!”

(Oh yeah, I remember now. Theodore. His name is Theodore.)

Theodore, the man who used to do nothing but whine and cry, now looked down on Throth with a faint smile.

In his hands was the magical tool Throth had taken from him: a jet-black box adorned with numerous gems. A black liquid began dripping out from under the lid, falling to the ground and spilling over Throth’s fingertips.

From that point of contact, Throth felt something draining out of his body. He was losing the intelligence and sentience that made a person human.

In exchange, however, he received a highly concentrated stream of mana.

Every hair on his body stood on end, and all of the blood flowing through his veins crackled with energy.

“Samuel Throth, I declare you the new Apostle of Gluttony. Dedicate yourself as my servant.”

As the world in front of him was painted over in black, Throth exerted his last shred of brainpower for one final thought.

(…It’s so quiet.)

When had the cawing stopped?

Either way, even his last doubt was quickly drowned in darkness.

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