บท 39: Sea God's Treasure!
In the dead of night, a dense fog rolled through the streets, shrouding everything in its wet, ghostly embrace.
A shadowy figure vaulted over a wall and landed quietly in a yard.
"Stop," a voice called from the next door, cutting through the stillness.
The figure paused mid-motion, and as the fog parted around him, his true form emerged. His limbs were unnaturally long, nearly brushing the ground, and his face was a cold, cyan mask of rigidity. Dybala stood tall, eyes flicking up to the creature on the second-floor balcony nearby, another being as inhuman as himself.
The creature's yellow-orange eyes glowed with murderous intent, its scaled body rippling as it glared down at Dybala.
A dark chuckle escaped Dybala's lips. "I remember you. You were with the others that day. Looks like I didn't come to the wrong place."
David's gaze locked onto the deep sword wound on Dybala's right chest, barely held together. "Arrogant, even with that wound?" he sneered.
The gash was horrific, nearly cleaving Dybala's chest in two, the raw flesh inside exposed and pulsing faintly.
Dybala grinned. "Ah, this old thing. The guy with the sword nearly finished me off that day. But, you know, I came here with good intentions, and now you're just making sure no one knows you secretly freed me."
"You're threatening me," David growled, his fists tightening in rage. He had to protect the peace of the night and his master from disturbance.
Dybala's sinister smile widened. "Oh, maybe I've been a little rude. But time's running short."
He tilted his head, his voice dripping with mockery. "Seems I showed up at the wrong time, but don't worry. Your boss will make a different call. I'll be back here at this time tomorrow."
"Wait, you still haven't told me what you want," David said, the madness of the situation sinking in. This guy was truly unhinged.
Dybala scratched his head, feigning confusion. "Didn't I? Alright, let me explain again. Even though your master fled, they still suspect I have help. They keep asking me about my allies. But don't worry, I'm a man of my word. I didn't tell them anything—I said I escaped on my own."
His grin turned wider. "Well, if they figure it out, that's on them. So, I'm asking you: what do you think? Want to kill them and silence them for good? Then all the family wealth, including whatever's tied to Poseidon's inheritance, will be yours. Tempting, right?" He burst into manic laughter, his voice loud enough to wake the dead.
David scowled, irritated by the outburst. It was strange; despite Dybala's shrill cackling, the other residents of the neighborhood remained undisturbed, as though they couldn't hear a thing.
With that, Dybala melted into the fog and vanished.
---
The next morning, Leonard opened his window and saw the small blue flag David had hung as a warning. After breakfast, he headed over to David's house to hear the full story.
"Did he really say all that?" Leonard asked, eyes narrowing.
"Yep. He snuck into the yard last night, but I chased him off," David replied, his tone grim.
Leonard frowned, sensing the threat in Dybala's words. "He's after something… something connected to the sea god's inheritance. But I'm not interested in all that gold and jewelry. I have enough already. What good is more?"
Dybala had mentioned an inheritance tied to the god of the sea, and Leonard couldn't help but recall his first encounter with him. Dybala had been trapped at the bottom of the water, bound by thick chains. When he crawled out, he looked like a water ghost, a terrifying sight, but not exactly something to be impressed by. His appearance was grotesque, almost ugly, but Leonard didn't care about looks. If given the choice between overwhelming strength and a pretty face, Leonard would always choose strength. But Dybala's strength had been far from impressive.
Anyone who could be bound by chains so easily probably didn't have much power to boast about. The more Leonard thought about it, the colder his expression became. Dybala's threat needed to be dealt with decisively next time.
He didn't need proof to act; sometimes suspicion alone was enough. If Dybala gave him trouble before he died, it would ruin Leonard's quiet life. Leonard decided that a serious conversation with Dybala was in order. He wasn't interested in the so-called inheritance of Poseidon, after all.
Thanks to his studies on wizardry and the memories of his past life, Leonard had lost any fear of gods. To him, gods were simply beings with extraordinary power. If you had enough strength, playing the role of a god wasn't that difficult.
But what truly excited Leonard wasn't the idea of inheriting a god's power, it was the chance to catch a few gods. And as for an inheritance that required constant cannibalism to sustain itself? That wasn't even worth considering.
"I'll deal with this tonight," Leonard muttered to himself.
Dybala's threats didn't affect Leonard's pace. With the successful completion of his sleep spell framework, Leonard now had more free time than ever before. He decided to use this extra time to dive into his alchemy books.
Meditation had its limits; you couldn't meditate for too long at once. If the brain were a precision instrument, meditation was like high-performance machinery; it could get damaged with prolonged use. So, Leonard stuck to a strict time limit: 4 to 6 hours of meditation a day was ideal.
Back in his room, Leonard picked up the baby gray rabbit that Borg had bought for him at the market. Watching the little creature hop around in its cage, he couldn't help but smile.
Gently pinching the rabbit's mouth, he poured the flesh-activating potion he had prepared the day before into it. The rabbit drank it all, then shook its head, jumping a couple of times before retreating to the corner, its back turned to Leonard.
The potion had two effects: it boosted the rabbit's physical activity and helped it grow stronger through exercise. But the potion's other effect was more unpredictable; it could induce random mutations in the body. The younger the subject, the more likely a mutation would occur. For now, Leonard could only wait and see what changes might come.
The rabbit wasn't fully grown yet, and Leonard was using it to test the effects of the potion.
The ingredients in the physical activity potion might not be particularly rare, but it was still a wizard's brew; a magical concoction, in essence!
Leonard placed the rabbit in a cage and set it in the Alchemy Lab space. Then, he focused on his meditation and daily tasks.
That night, Leonard stood in David's yard, watching as the dense fog began to rise around him. David had mentioned that the fog had appeared suddenly the night before. It was as thick and unexpected as ever. From the end of the street, Dybala's towering figure emerged through the mist, just as Leonard had anticipated.
Behind him, David glanced at Dybala's chest in silence. The wound from the previous night had shrunk and healed significantly. It seemed this man had an impressive ability to recover.
"Relax, buddy. I'm just here to talk business," Dybala called out, stepping into the yard with a smile. However, his ferocious expression made the smile look more unnerving than friendly.
Leonard narrowed his eyes and gestured for David to open the yard gate and let Dybala in.
"You don't look so great yourself. That wound is quite a sight," Leonard remarked, his tone sharp.
Dybala touched his sword wound and spoke with a hint of nostalgia. "I was careless. After I killed the liar, I set out to take revenge on his whole family. But there were two unexpected obstacles, a magician using magic and a knight with incredible swordsmanship. The knight's sword almost cleaved me in two, but I did manage to blind one of his eyes."
His tone darkened as he continued, "I just wanted revenge on those liars who deceived me. They promised me that if I accepted the family inheritance, they'd take care of my wife, Maracia, and my son. But they lied. And my lover… she died three years ago because we couldn't afford her treatment."
Leonard's expression softened. "That's unfortunate," he said, though his words carried little sympathy.
Dybala shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I'll still have my revenge."
Dybala's gaze flicked to the door. "Aren't you going to invite me in?" he asked with a sly grin.
Leonard nodded and stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter. Dybala walked in without hesitation, settling into a chair without worry.
"My ancestor was once just a sailor. One day, while fishing, he pulled up a statue from the sea. That night, he dreamed of the statue, which gave him power. From that moment, his fame grew, and he became a renowned sailor. Eventually, he formed his own fleet," Dybala recounted.
"It sounds like quite a story. But when I first saw you, you were locked in water. Seems like your inheritance comes with a major downside. I'm not interested in becoming a crazed cannibal," Leonard replied coolly.
Dybala chuckled darkly. "The inheritance didn't always have these drawbacks. But over time, as it was passed down, the heirs became more extreme; some even lost their minds and attacked people. Originally, only the wisest of the tribe could inherit it. Now, it's something that even the lowest of the low can hold onto. But they still want to keep the power in the family."
He scoffed, "It's ridiculous. They're afraid of it, yet they refuse to give up its power."
Leonard drummed his fingers on the armrest of the chair, lost in thought. The pursuit of power had always been a part of human nature, after all.
"If I'm not mistaken, you're an apprentice wizard, aren't you?" Dybala asked suddenly.
Leonard's finger froze on the leather, and for a moment, the air seemed to tense around them. Dybala noticed the shift and quickly added, "It's not a secret. Many noble families leave behind inheritances. But being a wizard requires talent, and honestly, I envy that. I never had the talent to become an apprentice wizard. If I had, I'd have been taken in years ago, and I wouldn't have ended up with this cursed inheritance."
He paused before adding, "You're probably preparing to board that ship in five months, right? I wonder which family you're from… maybe we're related by blood."
His tone was tentative, as if testing the waters.
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