Chương 13: Memory of the Past!
"Alright, goodbye, young man," Leonard said, smiling faintly as he waved to the boy.
The boy, though still visibly shaken from Leonard's tale, mustered a timid smile and raised his hand in return. "Goodbye, sir," he said, his voice a little unsteady.
Outside the yard, Kenny was already atop her carriage, reins in hand. The horses snorted softly, their breath visible in the crisp morning air. Teacher Alfonso descended the stairs with his usual calm demeanor, stepping into the waiting carriage without a word. Leonard followed shortly after, settling into the seat beside him. The journey south resumed with the steady rhythm of hoofbeats on the dirt road.
As the carriage rolled forward, Leonard leaned back, his thoughts drifting to the story he had shared with the boy. Though he had played it off as a tall tale, the events he described were, in fact, true.
---
The memory was vivid. It had been during his own journey south, in those uncertain days when the line between reality and nightmare often blurred. He had encountered beings that defied all logic; grotesque, patchwork creatures that seemed to crawl out of the darkest corners of folklore.
One, in particular, stood out: a monster with three heads and five hands. It had a misshapen, grotesque form, as though it were the discarded plaything of a deranged child. A second head jutted awkwardly from its neck, while a woman's face, pale and lifeless, hung from its chest like a macabre ornament. Its arms grew haphazardly from its torso, each one ending in clawed fingers that twitched unnaturally.
Despite its terrifying appearance, the creature's strength was only marginally greater than that of a strong man. Its most notable ability was its resilience, it could take a beating and still keep moving. But the psychological fear it instilled far outweighed its actual combat prowess.
The refugees with Leonard had been paralyzed with terror. No one dared to attack the monster, their fear compounded by superstitions. An old man among them muttered incessantly, warning that the creature must have been the work of a witch. To harm it, he said, would invite her curse.
In the end, a group of braver souls managed to drive the creature away with crude weapons; long sticks and rocks hurled from a safe distance.
Shortly after, a group of knights arrived on horseback, armed with spears and short swords. They swiftly dispatched the remaining monsters with brutal efficiency. But the knights, who served a local lord, proved to be no saviors. Arrogant and predatory, they claimed several of the young women among the refugees as their spoils, taking them away without care for the tears and protests of their families.
Leonard had been lucky that day. His father, with quick thinking and desperation born of experience, had instructed his sister to smear her face with dirt and hide beneath a wide-brimmed hat. Adults in their group had formed a protective circle around her, obscuring her from view.
The memory lingered, bittersweet. Leonard's thoughts turned to his family. Were they safe? Had they made it to Bangor Harbor as planned?
He stared out the window, his gaze fixed on the southern horizon. That was where they had promised to reunite. Three months was enough time for them to have reached the port, found work, and perhaps even secured a place to live. The thought of surprising them brought a faint smile to his face.
Bangor Harbor. The wealthiest and most advanced city in the kingdom. It was the beating heart of trade, its markets filled with goods from every corner of the world. Yet Leonard knew that such prosperity always came at a cost. For the rich, it was a playground of decadence and power. For the poor, it was a place to scrape by, surviving on whatever crumbs fell from the tables of the wealthy.
And survival was enough for Leonard. Wealth and grandeur were dreams for others. He only needed food, shelter, and the hope of a better life.
---
The steady rhythm of the horses' hooves provided a soothing backdrop as the carriage pressed on. Leonard sat by the window, glancing occasionally at Alfonso, who sat with his eyes closed, deep in meditation. His teacher's discipline was remarkable. If Alfonso wasn't conducting experiments, he was meditating or studying, always sharpening his mind and powers.
"Teacher," Leonard ventured after a moment, breaking the silence, "you haven't eaten yet. I saved this for you." He reached into his coat and pulled out a piece of bread, holding it out respectfully.
Without opening his eyes, Alfonso replied in his usual indifferent tone, "I'm not hungry."
Leonard nodded and withdrew the bread. He knew better than to press. Alfonso was not one to repeat himself.
Tucking the bread back into his coat, Leonard retrieved his alchemy diary. The pages were filled with notes, theories, and diagrams, and he began reading with quiet enthusiasm. Every word felt like a puzzle piece, slowly unlocking the mysteries of the world around him.
The carriage continued southward, the crisp morning air giving way to the warmth of the rising sun. For now, the journey was quiet, but Leonard knew that danger often lurked just beyond the horizon.
Alfonso, who had been sitting motionless with his eyes closed, suddenly opened them slightly. His sharp, calculating gaze shifted toward Leonard, who was absorbed in reading the alchemy diary. The boy's furrowed brow and quiet determination caught Alfonso's attention. He observed him for a moment, as though reminded of something distant, before closing his eyes again and retreating into his own thoughts.
---
Meanwhile, in the Baron's Castle at Delin Town, tension was brewing. Baron Delin XVI paced the grand hall, his ornate robe sweeping the polished stone floor. His expression was grim as he turned to his butler.
"Has there been any news of Knight Matthew?" he demanded, his voice clipped with impatience.
The butler, a thin man with a stoic demeanor, shook his head. "No, my lord. Since Knight Matthew took half of the town's sheriffs up the mountain two nights ago, we've heard nothing."
Baron Delin's frown deepened. He tapped his fingers against the armrest of his chair, the weight of the situation pressing on him.
Knight Matthew wasn't just any knight. He was an envoy from the Dukedom of Phoenix Claw, a neighboring power that wielded considerable influence. If it had been an ordinary knight, Delin wouldn't have been so concerned. His territory boasted hundreds of musketeers, capable of overwhelming any lone warrior with sheer firepower.
But Knight Matthew was different. His presence in Delin Town had already been a source of unease. From the moment he arrived, he had been searching for something; though what it was, Delin had no idea. Two nights ago, he had taken a contingent of armed sheriffs into the mountain. Now, none of them had returned.
"I've sent a search party to the mountain," the butler offered. "We should have a report by today."
Delin nodded curtly but couldn't shake his unease. A knight and a dozen armed men didn't just vanish into thin air. Whatever had happened in the forest, it was something beyond the ordinary.
Just then, a voice called out from the courtyard, loud and urgent. "My Lord Baron! My Lord Baron!"
The butler turned as a young man with blond hair and freckles rushed into the hall. "This is one of the men from the search party," the butler said, gesturing for him to speak.
"What did you find?" Delin demanded, his voice sharp.
The man hesitated, his face pale. "My Lord Baron, we… we found their bodies. Knight Matthew and all the sheriffs; they're dead."
"What?!" Delin shot to his feet, his voice a mixture of shock and fury. "All of them?"
"Yes, my lord. Every single one. Their bodies were—" The man faltered, the memory clearly haunting him. "They were torn apart. It wasn't like anything I've ever seen before."
Delin's hands clenched into fists. A chill ran down his spine as he considered the implications. An entire group, including a knight who had passed the trials, annihilated without a single survivor.
"Prepare my carriage immediately," Delin ordered, his voice firm despite the fear gnawing at him. "I must go to the Dukedom of Phoenix Claw and inform the duke. Whatever danger lies in that mountain, it's far too great to ignore. If we don't act, this entire region could fall into chaos."
The butler nodded and hurried off to make the arrangements. Delin stared out the window, his unease growing. This wasn't just a local problem, it was something far darker.
---
As the carriage carrying Alfonso and Leonard continued southward, the journey was quiet, almost uneventful. Leonard, however, was anything but idle. He had spent the past few days devouring the contents of the alchemy notebook his teacher had given him. Each page was a revelation, his understanding of mutation science growing from rudimentary to something far more structured and insightful.
The concept of 'mutation catalysis' fascinated him. The idea that organisms could be artificially induced to mutate, potentially unlocking dormant traits or hidden bloodlines, opened a world of possibilities. Yet, he also noted the risks. Not all mutations were beneficial; some were outright dangerous, leading to malformed and unstable results.
Among the methods detailed in the notebook was a potion known as the 'Physical Activity Activation Elixir.' This substance, according to the text, heightened the activity of cells within the body, making an organism more susceptible to mutation. Leonard pondered this concept deeply.
'Cellular activation… could this potion enhance physical performance as well?' He imagined its applications; not just for mutation, but for improving strength, endurance, and recovery. It seemed wizards had little interest in physical prowess, preferring shortcuts to achieve what knights and common folk spent years training for.
Some parts of the notebook described using the blood of certain mutant creatures to create potions that could permanently strengthen the body. Unlike laborious physical training, these potions offered immediate results. With the right materials, such enhancements could even be mass-produced.
Leonard's thoughts raced. 'If I could perfect such a potion, I wouldn't just gain strength; I'd save time for more important studies.'
The carriage jolted slightly as it hit a bump, pulling him from his thoughts. He glanced at Alfonso, who sat motionless, his eyes closed once more. Was he meditating? Or simply lost in thought?
"Teacher," Leonard said hesitantly, breaking the silence. "You haven't eaten yet. I saved this for you."
He pulled a small piece of bread from his coat and held it out.
Alfonso opened his eyes briefly, his gaze cool and distant. "I'm not hungry," he said simply, before closing his eyes again.
Leonard nodded and withdrew the bread, unoffended. He had grown accustomed to his teacher's terse demeanor. Alfonso was a man of precision; he rarely spoke, and when he did, it was only to convey something necessary.
Tucking the bread back into his coat, Leonard returned to his notebook. The carriage rattled onward, the sound of hooves striking the dirt road a steady rhythm beneath them. Leonard's mind churned with possibilities, his hunger for knowledge driving him forward. If the journey south continued to be this quiet, he might just master the basics of mutation science before they reached their destination.
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