Chapter 283
Chapter 283: Water and Fire (2)
The snow shelter had been blatantly suspicious in appearance.
'Impressive restraint.'
The greedy Raole had remarkable patience.
He hadn't cut or smashed that clearly man-made snow. Because the shack-sized mound sat outside the patrol route.
'Each Tower has its paths.'
Among them were infiltration routes connected to the Serzila Wall.
'This shouldn't be one of them.'
A map of the Boundary existed in Harad's mind.
A map drawn in the past life, one that Bonfire's Aroshu had drawn and Eiga had supplemented in this life.
The Red Tower knew about the paths other Towers had carved through the Boundary. The paths Aroshu hadn't shared -- Eiga had.
Of course, the information was old. The Red Tower's heyday was ancient history, and Eiga's wanderings through the Boundary were from ages past.
Still, branches grow from trees.
Paths extend from where they already run; they don't spring up in random places. The Snowfall Desert. No Tower's path ran near here.
That didn't make it strange, though.
The Otherworld would occasionally raid the First Stage Boundary from beyond the second wall whenever it pleased.
Just recently, hadn't Peneon of the Tower of Storms been captured?
'Different from Peneon. His objective was to cross the Wall.'
He'd been caught above a patrol route, not on a Tower's path.
'These ones built shelters out of snow and dug channels.'
If crossing the Wall had been the objective, the shelters should have been built where the patrol routes couldn't be seen.
Same for the channel.
They shouldn't have been pouring water so conspicuously into the desert.
'What's the intent in the first place?'
The snow shelter was understandable.
A rest stop, surely.
But the channel was beyond comprehension no matter how he turned it over.
'What changes by laying water across a desert?'
Still, Harad didn't dismiss it outright.
The enemy was an Otherworld mage. There'd be a reason he didn't know.
No matter how hard he stared, no anomaly could be found in the channel. A shallow stream, no deeper than a middle finger, ran across the crimson desert.
'Shallow. And dense.'
The depth was shallow, but the concentration was thick.
It looked like drinking it would make it cling fast to the esophagus and stomach. It was water, but it was unmistakably magic. Perhaps closer to an attack.
Harad entered the space where the shelter had stood. Room enough for ten adults to lie down and fill completely.
'Five?'
Otherworld mages were uniformly haughty, so they wouldn't have packed it full.
He couldn't be certain. There might be more shelters nearby. This one had only been spotted because it sat near the patrol route.
'Even so, they paid the route no mind at all. Is it because they know Serzila can't leave the patrol route?'
Hadn't Peneon proven it.
The Otherworld viewed Serzila as insects.
'For viewing them as insects, they killed them with considerable care.'
If they truly saw them as insects, they'd have crushed them head-on.
Harad recalled the past life and smiled.
They dismissed them as insects yet couldn't entirely dismiss them. The Otherworld unconsciously feared Serzila.
The manner in which the North had fallen in the past life was proof of that.
'Food, blankets...... no water.'
The channel's presence had already told him as much.
Among the Otherworld mages who'd been here, at least one would have a water-based Origin.
Harad examined the leftover food.
The shape was peculiar. It resembled a thin, long brick, and its pitch-black color made it thoroughly unappetizing.
'Is this even food?'
About half remained, and the cross-section bore teeth marks. Despite its appearance, it didn't seem that hard. Harad pressed the opposite end to his nose and sniffed.
"No smell."
"True."
Ellen brought her face close, sniffed alongside him, and nodded.
Harad trusted Ellen's nose more than his own.
This was food without a scent.
Or something that wasn't food but had been chewed.
"Hmm."
Harad shoved it into his mouth and chewed.
"It's food."
"......Why would you eat that."
"There were bite marks."
It wasn't as hard as he'd expected.
And more edible than he'd thought.
"Strange flavor. Like meat compressed to the extreme, I suppose. Oh, don't eat any. It's not good."
At "not good," Ellen lowered her hand.
"Seems like food optimized for efficiency. Nothing but calorie density. Like emergency rations designed for the Boundary."
That would explain the lack of scent.
'This is the First Stage Boundary.'
From the Otherworld's perspective, this was the equivalent of the second wall.
To reach this place, they'd have to cross the second wall. The farther from home, the more natural it was to be mindful of provisions.
'Same principle for the blankets.'
There were ten blankets in total.
The patterns drawn on them were so peculiar as to defy description. On closer inspection, five bore the pattern right-side up and the other five were reversed. The design was drawn upside down.
Harad draped a reversed blanket over himself.
"Cool."
His body cooled.
"And this one's warm."
Draping a right-side-up blanket made his body flush with heat.
Harad placed the right-side-up blanket over Ellen's shoulders. She gave a short gasp of admiration at the warmth.
"Patrols must be a walk in the park for the Otherworld."
In hot zones, rest under a cooling blanket; in cold zones, under a warming one.
Every action in the Boundary consumed magical power or Aura.
These blankets would reduce that drain.
"Should we take them?"
She only said it that way; Ellen was already packing them up.
She seemed intent on distributing them to the knights.
Or releasing them as magic examination prizes.
'Kind of feels pathetic, too.'
Harad watched Ellen fold the blankets with a complicated gaze.
"Let's call it spoils of war, not theft."
That suited Serzila better.
***
Where might the mages be.
That question became moot.
Because they'd discovered the blankets -- Magical Items.
The blankets served a similar function to the robe once taken from Avery Aquins. Meaning they were valuable Magical Items.
Because Avery Aquins had been a Star of the Deep Sea.
Unlike him, Aroshu's robe had been ordinary.
There was no reason to leave valuable blankets behind.
The mages would return in due time. The snow shelter was their temporary quarters.
That thought proved correct after what felt to Harad like a full day.
"They're here."
Ellen whispered.
Faint footsteps sounded in the distance. Multiple.
'Five?'
The mages who'd used this as a base had numbered five. As expected. That was why there had been five warming blankets and five cooling blankets.
Five mages emerged through the blizzard. "Emerged" might not be the right word. The snow bundles slid off the moment they touched the five's robes, falling away.
Harad's eyes, with the Sun as his Origin, pierced through the blizzard. Ellen, born with Innate Strength, had sharp eyes too.
The five mages seemed to as well. Five pairs of eyes flew open. Through the curtain of blizzard, their gazes met.
Suddenly, the driving snow bent its course in a peculiar way. As though a hole had been punched clean through the heart of the blizzard.
The five mages used that hole as a corridor. They moved with considerable speed. By the time Harad and Ellen rose to their feet, the five were already standing before them.
All five wore blue robes that deeply hooded their faces. The same color as Avery Aquins's.
'Tower of the Deep Sea.'
The group guests were from the Tower of the Deep Sea, it seemed.
One of the five lowered the robe covering his face. A middle-aged man, his hair and beard streaked with white.
"What organization do you belong to."
The middle-aged mage offered a question instead of an attack.
'Does he think we're from the Otherworld?'
It was true enough. Harad and Ellen likely looked closer to that side than to Serzila's knights. Harad wore a smile.
"Wildfire Harad, 4th Rank of the Red Tower."
At that, all five mages flinched simultaneously and turned their heads.
They briefly shared glances, then looked at Ellen.
They must have decided to observe a bit longer.
"3rd Rank of the Red Tower...... Ellen of the Matchstick Fire."
Ellen hesitated briefly, then borrowed Herbis's Origin.
A boldness made possible by knowing that similar Origins were plentiful.
"We are the Tower of the Deep Sea."
The middle-aged mage said.
Rather short for an introduction of five.
"If that's all, I'll be a little offended."
"This doesn't seem like a situation for courtesies."
The middle-aged mage quipped like Harad.
He was blatantly surveying Harad's surroundings.
The snow shelter should have been here.
"Ah. If you mean the snow, I got rid of it. Serzila's insects were gawking as they passed."
"That was needless. The insects can't touch it anyway. It's outside the route."
The Otherworld knew full well that Serzila couldn't leave the patrol routes.
"Still, you never know. Ignorant creatures might lose their heads and charge if their eyes go wide."
"Fair point."
The middle-aged mage nodded slowly.
Behind him, four robes bobbed similarly. They all seemed to agree. Ellen silently clenched her fist.
"What brings you here?"
The middle-aged mage asked.
"Isn't it obvious? We're looking for the Star."
A Star had appeared somewhere in the Boundary.
That was what the Otherworld had been told.
"How long since you arrived at the Boundary?"
"About three months."
"You came from the continent, then."
The middle-aged mage was certain after noting Harad and Ellen's attire.
"Had to come back. Since the Star is here. We crossed by ship not long ago."
"By ship?"
"Your sea route, I mean. We took the last passage. I heard the sea route got caught by the Church after we came through -- is that true?"
The middle-aged mage didn't answer.
Instead, the five shared glances among themselves again.
'Truly sinister.'
No wonder the Tower of the Deep Sea was lumped together and cursed as conniving.
"Are you one of them?"
"One of what?"
Harad asked back. The middle-aged mage's brow creased.
"Sorry. We don't know how to speak in riddles. What do you mean by 'one of them'?"
"......True to fire, I see."
The middle-aged mage nodded slowly.
Indeed, fire had to come on strong.
"I'm asking if you're an Oddball."
"Ah, a Dreamer. Don't lump us in. I'm the faithful sort."
Harad conjured fire in the air.
It solidified into the shape of a wildfire.
A boldness that leaned on the Otherworld's preconceptions.
"This fire is to be presented solely to the King of Prophecy."
The middle-aged mage's face hardened with wariness at the sight of the fireball, now as large as the former snow shelter. The four robed figures behind him retreated a step and clasped their hands together.
They looked ready to unleash magic at any moment.
They would have, had the middle-aged mage not stretched out his hand to restrain them.
"There is no Star of the Red Tower here."
"Sorry, but I only believe what I've seen with my own eyes."
"......"
"What brings you here?"
You came looking for the Star too, didn't you -- Harad's gaze implied the suspicion.
The middle-aged mage worked his lips.
Choosing his words, it seemed. That was why Harad had conjured the fire.
Caution and conniving shared common ground. At times, they became fear. The mages would have seen the fire and thought not of the Sun but of a powerful Wildfire.
"I see you kept our blankets safe. Thank you. Let's drape them and talk at leisure."
Having finished his deliberation, the middle-aged mage approached with an extended hand.
"Allow me to apologize for the rudeness, first."
"Accepted."
Harad clasped the middle-aged mage's hand.
"Sorry about this, Wildfire Harad."
The middle-aged mage smiled gently.
Cold conjured from the man's hand engulfed Harad's entire body.