Chapter 26 - 12: [Interlude of the Demon Monarch and the Knight]

Chapter 26: Chapter 12: [Interlude of the Demon Monarch and the Knight]

The room was dim. Directly opposite the door was a small, tightly shut window. A sliver of light leaked through the crack, casting a narrow, irregular band of light across the ceiling and walls. An empty table and chair sat before the window; a candlestick holding nothing but a stub of wax rested on the tabletop. There was nothing else.

"It’s suffocating... I haven’t taken off this helmet for over two days! Finally!" Talia tossed the Hammer Spear to the floor with a loud CLANG. She grabbed the helmet and, grimacing, pulled her steel-gray hair out from the crevices before fiercely tossing the Demon Horned Black Helmet onto the bed.

With a soft THUMP, the helmet kicked up a cloud of dust on the bedding.

"Ah! A bed! I trekked through the Barren Land like a wild beast for two years, sleeping in piles of dead leaves and dirt holes, tearing into other beasts and Demonized Plants—how long has it been since I slept in a real bed! Cough, cough..." Talia fell stiffly onto the hard wooden bed, coughing as the dust choked her. The wooden boards let out a CREAK.

"That sounds oddly pitiful..." Samael sat on the bed in a daze, though he didn’t feel any particular way about it.

After all, he was a suit of armor now; sitting, lying down, and standing all felt exactly the same. He couldn’t tell the difference between a bed and a hard floor.

Opening the leather pouch at his waist, he curiously inspected the labels on the various bottles and jars inside.

"Healing Potions, painkillers, Magic Poison Antidotes, arrowhead venom... Randall gave us quite a lot of good stuff."

Samael pulled a thin iron chain adorned with small glass tubes from the leather pouch. A small wooden tag clung to the chain, engraved with the words "Healing Potion."

Each glass tube was about the size of a pinky finger, filled to the brim with a slightly cloudy, dark red liquid. The caps were fixed directly onto the links, making the packaging resemble an ammunition belt.

This design allowed one to drape the chain over a shoulder or around the waist. By pinching the neck of the bottle and giving it a hard yank with one hand, a person could pop the cork and drink the contents. It was likely intended for quick access; even if a user had lost an arm or was holding a weapon in the middle of a duel, they could still uncork and consume the potion single-handedly in an emergency.

"None of it is useful to us. Even the strongest Healing Potion can’t compare to the Demon Race’s innate physical regeneration, and the Demon Race is immune to Spiritual Poison—the same goes for a Nether Copper Cursed Armor." Talia turned her head to look at the bottles in his hand, complaining with obvious disdain. "And look how cloudy it is. This stuff is low-grade, like some shoddy product a novice Alchemist brewed using scraps. It might even have side effects."

"It’s the thought that counts! The sincerity behind a wealthy man giving you a thousand bucks and a broke guy giving you a thousand bucks is completely different. Plus, this is the kind of Magic Potion they use regularly themselves. It might not look pretty, but it’s practical," Samael shot back. "What’s this one?"

He picked up a spherical glass bottle the size of a fist. Inside sat a stone carved with Runes and several dark green lumps resembling shriveled chicken gizzards. They were firmly secured with thin string and iron wire, all submerged in a pale yellow oil.

"Oh, that Sewage Worker captain could actually afford this? He spared no expense! But it’s not of much use." Talia clicked her tongue. "This contains the Magic [Rotting Poison Cannon], also known as [Rotting Poison Bombardment]. It uses the venom glands of Rotting Soil Roarers as a Magic Catalyst.

"It’s a [Bottled Magic], a product of the human Magic Potion Science branch. It’s a single-use Magic item made from a glass bottle, a Rune Stone, a Magic Catalyst, and the fatty oil of a Magical Beast. Smashing the bottle activates it, while the oil acts as fuel. [Bottled Magic] doesn’t consume the user’s Spiritual Energy, meaning even someone who doesn’t know Magic can use it."

"So you’re saying it’s expensive?" Samael asked.

"It easily costs two or three hundred Gold Coins. Half of that is for the materials, and the other half is for labor; it’s quite troublesome to make. Do you see the complex structure inside? The manufacturing process is just like building a ship in a bottle. You have to insert long-handled tweezers through the neck to hold the materials and assemble it piece by piece," Talia explained. "This Bottled Magic looks rather crude. It’s probably a practice piece created through the collaboration of a novice Alchemist and a rookie Mage in their party. Crafting [Bottled Magic] requires interdisciplinary expertise from both a Mage and an Alchemist. Since few people can master both professions, it’s usually a joint effort."

"Randall even gave us such a precious item?" Samael stroked the chin of his helmet. "I think Randall is a pretty good guy. He’s capable, level-headed, and sincere in how he treats others. You don’t want to join his party? Is it because the name sucks? Or are they just too weak?"

"Mostly, it’s because they’re too weak." Lying on the bed, Talia raised her Claw-shaped Hand Armor toward the ceiling. "Samael, we must hide our identities and true strength. That means we have to keep as low a profile as possible and avoid showing off our abilities.

"Our true power is roughly equivalent to a Seventh-level Adventurer. If we join a party where the members’ overall strength falls below that level, we’ll stick out like sore thumbs.

"Perhaps we could intentionally hide our strength at first. But once we encounter something during a mission that their abilities can’t handle, we’ll inevitably have to step up and take charge. If that happens too often, it’s hard to guarantee we won’t slip up a time or two. We’ll end up exposing our true power and drawing unwanted attention.

"Besides, their party name..." Talia mused.

"Does it sound terrible?" Samael asked.

"Sounding terrible is only one aspect of it, but that’s not the main issue." Talia clenched her Hand Armor at the ceiling. "The crux of the matter is that, just as that Sewage Worker captain said, their party name is far too distinctive."