Chapter 528: ‘This is… remarkable.’

Oliver, sitting cross-legged with his eyes closed, thought to himself.

When he visited the small town of Nofton with a special mission from the Tower of Magic to persuade Eve, Oliver got to directly see and experience the projects that the Tower of Magic was undertaking.

Among them were several projects related to the World Tree.

These included long-distance transportation magic using the World Tree as a medium, converting the magic power within the World Tree into energy, and implementing the memories of the World Tree into reality through rituals.

Each of these was research that could be remembered in history, and Oliver came to understand anew why the Tower of Magic was so renowned.

Although it wasn’t the Tower of Magic that implemented these techniques but Lilith, what mattered was that Oliver saw it all with his own eyes.

Each project was surprising and impressive, and as soon as his mission was completed, Oliver made sure to note everything he observed and memorized and even considered how he could apply it.

Fortunately, there was something. Specifically, the method of training he was currently engaged in.

By using the power of nature to contact the World Tree, communicate with Eve, and receive the refined images from her, Oliver could indirectly experience Druidic training in his mind.

Though it was just a theory, Oliver succeeded far beyond his expectations.

‘I owe this to Eve… Although I could have meditated while in the Root Net, there would have been limitations due to time constraints.’

Oliver thought, and his observation was accurate.

To use the World Tree, whether it was for emotions, magic, or nature’s power, a fee was required, and this naturally imposed time constraints.

There were also several other challenges.

For example, it was questionable whether he could accurately retrieve only the desired memories from the layers of memories stored in the World Tree, and there was the risk of his body being vulnerable while he was connected to the World Tree.

Of course, these issues could be resolved with time investment, but time was the problem. However, thanks to Eve, Oliver could skip all the trivial processes and dive straight into training.

It was almost as if someone had deboned fish and was spoon-feeding it to him.

To not waste this fortune, Oliver focused even harder, concentrating on the images Eve was projecting beyond his closed eyelids.

[Close your eyes, straighten your posture. Feel the power of nature.]

A Druid approached a young trainee and spoke. In his hand was a branch, too thin to be a club, yet too thick to be a rod.

Upon seeing the new image, Oliver’s focus momentarily wavered, but he soon regained control and concentrated on the young trainee he was mimicking.

Like Oliver, the boy had yet to succeed in communing with nature but would soon manage it, making it easier to mimic.

‘The power of nature, communion with spirits.’

Oliver clearly reminded himself of his goal and focused his mind.

Of course, he couldn’t feel anything right away, but having a figure to imitate made it much better, like having a compass versus not.

Thanks to this, Oliver could continue to concentrate on meditation, even though he hadn’t yet felt any significant change or success.

Then, something changed. Though he hadn’t yet felt nature’s power, the image Eve projected grew more specific and clear, shifting from lines to surfaces.

Not only that, but the image expanded to include other children besides the boy Oliver had been imitating.

Boys and girls. The common thread between them was that they all looked tired and hungry, and the Druid, holding a long branch, struck a girl.

[Focus your mind. The adaptation period is ending soon. If you don’t feel the blessing of nature by then, you won’t receive proper rations.]

Rations. Raised in an orphanage and a mine, Oliver understood what that meant—food, something to eat. Something most needed and feared.

Perhaps because of this, Oliver momentarily felt as though he was in the same situation as the other trainees.

‘But why did the image expand? I specifically asked to only see someone easy to imitate.’

Oliver wondered, but soon decided not to worry. Eve must have judged that this was better. In fact, it made it feel like he was receiving direct guidance on-site, making it easier to immerse himself.

[Grrrrk…!]

While Oliver continued to focus on meditation, a boy rolled his eyes back and began frothing at the mouth.

Even without anyone explaining, Oliver could tell the boy was having a strong adverse reaction to the power of nature.

Just as not everyone can handle magic power properly, the power of nature also required various conditions like personal talent, temperament, and a body capable of absorbing it.

[This one’s defective. Throw him out.]

The Druid overseeing the training pointed with his branch, stating firmly.

Strangely enough, it was the same reaction that would occur when a sick child was found in a mine.

Workers dragged the boy out, and as the boy regained consciousness, he desperately cried out for another chance. He pleaded that he had nowhere to go and would die if cast out.

But no one responded to the boy’s desperate cries, and his voice faded into the distance.

[…]

[…]

Silence returned. Though it was just an image projected into his mind, Oliver could feel the emotions of the children in the training.

Though it was merely a deduction based on the situation and sensations, Oliver felt it.

Especially the emotions of the boy he was mimicking, the one projected through his eyelids.

The boy’s anger, resentment, and resolve. As his emotions heightened, so too did the boy’s senses, and naturally, the senses of Oliver, who was mimicking him, became sharper.

In that way, Oliver was about to get closer to an achievement he hadn’t experienced before when he sensed a presence and opened his eyes.

“…Lucian?”

Oliver muttered as he opened his eyes and stared into the air.

“I’m sorry. Did I disturb you?”

“…No, it’s fine.”

Oliver turned his head to see Lucian standing at a far distance.

It was hard to say he was interrupted because of Lucian since he was so far away.

Lucian, being sharp, stopped at a distance to respect Oliver’s space.

Still, the meditation came to an end suddenly, as Oliver’s heightened senses caused his focus to scatter.

It was similar to how heightened hearing might cause one to be distracted by small sounds.

Although it was disappointing that the well-progressed meditation was interrupted in the middle, Oliver decided to think positively.

In his initial meditation, he had achieved nothing, but now he had made at least a little progress, so the difference was significant.

Perhaps with two or three more attempts, he would achieve better results.

With that thought, Oliver chose not to dwell on what had happened and instead focused on the present.

“I’m really okay. Instead, what brings you here?”

“My business partners have requested to meet with Mr. Dave. If it’s not too much trouble, could you come with me?”

“Yes, of course.”

Oliver accepted without hesitation.

Considering the undisclosed information Lucian had shared about the location of this place in the Verdant Forest, the factions seeking the Flesh Cook’s legacy, Millieu’s secret cooperation with the Royal Family, and even the camp space that Millieu occupied, showing his face once in return wasn’t that difficult.

Just as he had accepted without hesitation, Oliver got up and Lucian expressed his thanks politely.

“Thank you.”

“No, I should be the one thanking you for all your help.”

Oliver spoke sincerely, not just out of courtesy. Indeed, thanks to Ewan abandoning him, he was left dumbfounded for a moment, unsure of what to do.

It was a feeling similar to when he first followed Joseph out, and he was only able to move properly because he ran into the familiar face of Lucian.

“Ah, but before we go, can I attend to something briefly? It’s quite important.”

“Ah, of course… But, what is it?”

“It’s almost meal time. I’d like to bring the stew I was cooking.”

Oliver said, showing his watch. More serious than ever.

***

Stir… Stir… Stir…

At the camp on the outskirts of the Verdant Forest, where Millieu had set up their base, everyone’s attention was drawn to one spot.

The reason was that a truly bizarre and unusual sight was unfolding.

“Isn’t that a Zombie Puppet?”

“Yeah, it’s definitely a Zombie Puppet.”

The onlookers were conversing.

As they discussed, in one corner of the camp where outdoor cooking utensils were set up, a Zombie Puppet, wearing an apron, stood in front of a massive cauldron, mechanically stirring the stew.

Even though it was a simple task of stirring the stew, no one could look away.

Logically, using a Zombie Puppet in that manner was unheard of. Who in their right mind would eat food cooked by a Zombie Puppet?

Some thought that perhaps the black magician, who was rumored to have been brought by Lucian, was trying to intimidate them. But no sooner had they thought this when the magician in question emerged from the forest alongside Lucian.

“Would you like some stew as well, Lucian?”

Oliver approached the large cauldron that the Zombie Puppet was stirring so naturally and asked. Lucian nodded.

“Yes, sounds good. The smell is amazing, just like something my grandmother used to make.”

Seeing through Lucian’s emotions, Oliver asked again.

“You don’t have to feel obligated to eat it.”

“No, I do want to try it.”

A contradiction, yet simultaneously sincere. Though his feelings were conflicting, Oliver could tell that it was Lucian being considerate.

Oliver served him a bowl of the stew and handed it to him.

“Please, add a bit more salt.”

Taking a sip of the stew, Oliver made the request to the Zombie Puppet, who, without hesitation, added more salt.

Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.

In fact, Oliver could have just commanded it silently, but due to his experience working with Child, he spoke aloud. It was a kind of routine for him.

As Oliver and Lucian walked through the camp while eating the stew made by the Zombie Puppet, all the soldiers watching this strange and odd sight parted way for the black magician who had come from across the sea.

“The stew is delicious.”

“Thank you for the compliment. Also, thank you for understanding. I must keep my meal time as scheduled.”

Indeed, ever since Oliver consumed the Flesh Cook’s palm flesh, which left him with the side effect of perpetual hunger, eating had become more of a pressing issue than any might have guessed.

Even before, he enjoyed eating and ate a lot, but there was no comparison now.

Lucian cautiously asked.

“I understand. I’ve heard you developed an insatiable hunger as a side effect of a battle.”

It was a sensitive question in these circles. Fortunately, Oliver didn’t seem to react negatively.

“Ah, is that so?”

“Yes… But I thought you had improved since you no longer ate outside of meal times.”

“Hmm… You could say it’s gotten a bit better.”

His statement was vague, though not completely wrong.

Though it was due to the burning pain from the burns, his hunger had noticeably improved.

At least he no longer needed to eat Calorie Bars or chocolate all the time. Instead, he now had to consume a certain amount of food at set times.

Oliver’s current physical condition was like walking a tightrope, where the pain from hunger and burning pain balanced each other out, allowing him to endure in a tenuous equilibrium.

That’s why Oliver, even when asked for a meeting by those who had made way for him, first made sure to bring out the stew.

‘Well, I also wanted to try utilizing the outdoor cooking tools and the Zombie Puppet.’

While thinking that, Oliver found himself arriving at the tent of Caïd, a boss within Millieu like Lucian.

The large tent, with several smaller ones attached to it, was like a mobile mansion. Inside, various bosses were gathered, each dressed differently.

An elderly man clad in full-body gray armored suit, carrying a giant longsword.

A young man who hid whips, daggers, spikes, and nets under a large cloak.

A woman with a scarred face, dressed in ornate clothing.

A middle-aged man wearing a monocle with a crossbow and brimming magical energy.

A man fully armored and armed with axes, longswords, daggers, and spears, with a helmet covering his face shaped like a basket—all of them were not ordinary fighters.

It was clear from the amount of magic they possessed and their stance.

It made sense. Although Millieu was often compared to the Crime Firm, they were descendants of fallen nobles, warriors, and thieves.

Moreover, they were the ones who had split control of Gallos’ underworld with the Flesh Cook. It wasn’t surprising that they were all highly skilled.

‘Ah, I must not forget him.’

Oliver thought as he looked at the Holy Knight sitting quietly in one corner of the tent wearing the Iron Mask.

Though his intentions were unclear, the mysterious Holy Knight had welcomed Oliver.

When asked about the Holy Knight’s identity from Lucian, even he didn’t know specifically who he was. They simply called him the Holy Knight or Iron Mask Holy Knight.

When Oliver made eye contact with the Holy Knight, he greeted him, and surprisingly, the Holy Knight responded without any sense of rejection.

“Mr. Dave, let me introduce you to my business partners. Starting from the left, this is Pierre, Leo, Valai, Natung, and Aron.”

Lucian introduced each person from left to right.

They were all with Millieu, and were based in Ravely and nearby areas.

Judging by the composition, it seemed that even within Millieu, factions were divided internally.

It wasn’t unusual. The larger the organization, the more these tendencies stood out. The Crime Firm was similarly divided into factions, from the internal factions within Randa, to the regional factions in Seland.

After introducing their names, Lucian kindly explained in detail about the other organizations.

He explained where each boss’s main income came from, who had the oldest history, and who had the largest force.

It was probably meant more to flatter his partners than to inform Oliver, but it was still interesting information.

After finishing the explanations about the partners, Lucian moved on to introduce Oliver.

“Let me introduce someone who helped me twice. He’s known as the Lumberjack, Mr. Dave, who’s becoming renowned over in Randa in the United Kingdom.”

“Nice to meet you.”

The first to extend a hand to Oliver was the only woman in the group, Valai.

Her sharp eyes clearly revealed calculations, and she made no effort to hide it.

It was already a situation where profit and loss calculations were necessary. Instead of hiding it, she decided to reveal it openly to gain trust.

As proof of this, she asked a direct question without hesitation.

“Lucian mentioned that you might consider joining us. Is that true?”

Caught off guard by the unexpected question, Oliver looked at Lucian, who made a correction.

“I said it was a possibility, not a certainty.”

“It’s just a matter of phrasing… Besides, it wouldn’t be a bad idea from your standpoint either.”

Oliver raised his hand to speak as Lucian was about to say more.

“May I ask why you think so?”

Valai’s eyes sparkled like a hunter who had seized an opportunity.

“Because it’s advantageous to move as a group rather than alone to acquire the Flesh Cook’s legacy.”

Without any pretense, she was being genuine. Oliver asked further.

“Given how many powerful forces have entered this forest—mercenary groups, tomb raiders, black magicians from the central continent, even Puppet—moving alone would be difficult.”

Although she spoke confidently, Oliver simply continued eating his stew indifferently.

He had collaborated with others before, but never really paid much attention to such things. Instead, he raised his hand.

“What is it?”

“Puppet probably isn’t participating.”

The unexpected comment caused everyone to tilt their heads in confusion, but they were all intrigued. Puppet’s participation status was crucial.

“What makes you say that? After all, his disciple, the Bomber Bay, came here.”

“That’s why I think Puppet isn’t participating.”

“…?”

“At first, I also thought Puppet was participating, but the more I thought about it, the less likely it seemed.”

“What’s your reasoning?”

Valai, who had been answering questions, found herself asking one now. It wasn’t because her information-gathering abilities or skill in leading the conversation were lacking.

It was because Oliver’s tone, as though he knew Puppet well, was out of the ordinary.

“There’s no definitive proof. However, from what I know of Puppet, I think he would act alone instead of moving with disciples.”

At first glance, it might have seemed illogical, but Oliver began to explain.

“Puppet is someone who commands Zombie Puppets in military units. Isn’t it odd that such a person would come here with disciples?”

Oliver had perfectly hit the nail on the head.

For Puppet, who specialized in controlling masses of zombies, numbers and armies meant something different than they did to normal people.

Being able to control an army of zombies by himself, having a disciple wasn’t really necessary for him. In fact, it would just be a burden.

Living people are even harder to control than a Zombie Puppet.

Of course, only Oliver, who had encountered Puppet a few times, could make such an assumption.

Oddly enough, it seemed to be a decent suggestion, as everyone, including Lucian, took it seriously, and they started to view Oliver differently.

It was as if the distant rumors from across the sea suddenly felt more real.

Even his unreliable, skinny appearance and odd black-and-white hair started to seem more like unique traits.

Considering Lucian’s attitude, reputation, and his current behavior, Valai quickly finished his calculations and once again proposed working together with Oliver, highlighting the benefits.

However, Oliver could only shake his head in response.

“I’m sorry.”

“What’s bothering you? We didn’t settle here in the outskirts because we lacked strength.”

Sincerely, Oliver responded.

“That’s not the reason I declined. It’s just not something I can decide on my own.”

“Ah, that’s right. You mentioned you had a partner with you?”

“Not really a partner, just a collaborator for this particular job.”

“Didn’t you say you abandoned them?”

“Even so, a collaborator is a collaborator. I should ask for their opinion.”

“Hmm… Can you tell us who it is? We might know them.”

While Oliver was contemplating whether to answer, a familiar sound of something shattering came from inside the tent.

Crack!!

Everyone turned their heads simultaneously. A crack appeared in the air, and as the bosses of Millieu instinctively gripped their weapons in response to the strange scene, Oliver spoke up.

“It’s him.”

“…What?”

“He’s the one who came with me to collect Flesh Cook’s legacy.”

Crack!!

As soon as Oliver finished speaking, another shattering sound echoed, and a man suddenly appeared amidst the strange sight of the sky breaking apart.

“This is Ewan Branham. A master craftsman who creates miraculous items, a great negotiator who traded beans for a cow, a great wanderer and debtor. He is my-”

“-Get that bastard!”

“Hit him.”

“Tie him up.”

“Kill him!”

As soon as they saw Ewan, the bosses inside the tent, including Lucian, all shouted in unison. They quickly blocked his escape, grabbed his arms with whips, threw an iron net over him, then started beating him up.

It was as if they had found a long-lost debtor. Then, Lucian spoke.

“It’s not ‘as if.’ He really is a debtor. He owes all of us. Hold on a moment.”

With those words, Lucian started beating Ewan up again.