Chapter 751: [Devourer] Fran
“Currently, the plan for taking the Southernmost Region is going smoothly. The Iron Whip clan has fallen. Echo entrusted me to send her gratitude to you.”
“It takes some time to prepare for a holy duel, and I expect that the clans in Iron Sand City will head for the Land of Fire in a week.”
“During the interim, I’ve hired some clansmen to mark the location of the underground Styx River. I believe we’ll find a Blackwater River relatively close to the coast before long.”
“In addition, Your Majesty—how are you going to deal with the Divine Lady of the clan?”
“With my great respect, Iron Axe.”
“Your Majesty, this is the message we received from the Southernmost Region.”
The Sigil of Listening flashed and went red. Countess Spear Passi fell silent after reporting, waiting for Roland’s reply.
Nightingale handed him another Sigil.
She had set it down beside her slim legs on the table where she sat, and Roland couldn’t tell if she’d done it on purpose. Even though it wasn’t summer, she wore the same pair of skinny pants that made her figure impossible to ignore. To speak into the Sigil, he would have to lean close.
A dilemma, that.
He wasn’t sure whether to look at her legs directly or only in passing.
“Ahem—well done. Iron Axe.”
“Your Majesty, are you all right?” the Countess inquired. “Your voice is husky. Please do keep warm this winter. You aren’t as resilient as the witches.”
“I’m fine,” Roland said, clearing his throat. “Tell Iron Axe to proceed with the plan if the situation is close to what we expected. As for the Divine Lady—he can try to persuade her to come to Neverwinter. But if she’s unwilling to leave the Southernmost Region, there’s no need to push her.”
“Is that all?”
“Yes. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”
“Then I’ll take my leave, Your Majesty.”
The red light went out.
Roland raised his head and exhaled slowly.
Why did he feel like he’d lost something?
Nightingale smiled, set the Sigil aside, slipped off the table, and returned to the lounge chair, where she resumed reading The Witches’ Story and chewing dried fish.
He curled his upper lip and turned back to business.
All the Sigils of Listening were committed to the Desert Mission now. Countess Spear Passi of Fallen Dragon Ridge was relaying messages between Neverwinter and the advance troops—still inconvenient by any standard, but far faster than a dozen days on horseback, and faster even than carrier pigeons, which still needed several days to arrive.
At least he could get a picture of what was happening without leaving his office.
The limitation was inherent: a Sigil of Listening only worked if a witch powered it. Two Sigils, two witches—a minimum requirement for any exchange. It would never replace ordinary communication for common people.
Meanwhile, the first telephone line in the Western Region was already being laid—a direct connection between the castle office and the City Hall of Longsong Area. Two more lines were being planned, to link both City Halls so that commands could pass with a single call. Erecting poles was slow, labor-intensive work, and the finished poles were vulnerable to snow and ice. Roland had decided to route the cables along the mountains instead, with Lotus burying them underground where they’d be safe.
Once the mountain defenses were in place, more lines would be needed. By then, a ten-circuit manual switchboard would handle it.
The other matter weighing on him was the relocation of the ancient Taquila witches.
Maggie and Lightning were on patrol, ranging thirty miles north of the mountains—enough range to signal an early warning before any large-scale demonic beast attack. The relic of deities that determined the Taquila group’s survival deserved every precaution he could offer.
He had spoken with Pasha many times over the past two weeks. Their plan was simple in outline, complicated in execution: let the worm carrier open a mountain channel into the Western Region first, then find a place where the rock formation was stable and the forked roads few, and build a palace there. The ancient witches would then move carriers, materials, and shells for the God’s Punishment Army into the new dwelling in stages before bringing the Instrument of Divine Retribution and the relic of gods.
The one with the most experience in relocation—or so Roland had come to think of her—was Fran. The devouring worm.
He had been unexpectedly startled the first time he saw her: that chubby body squirming to squeeze itself before the phantom instrument, mouth agape, to express her gratitude.
He had learned from Pasha afterward that witches who integrated into carriers could no longer be stored in God’s Punishment Warriors. Their perceptions and consciousnesses were consolidated within their new bodies entirely. The advantage was availability—a carrier could be deployed immediately. The disadvantage was final: once the body was damaged, there were no backup carriers.
Without that bonding, in any case, a witch would never truly control such an alien form. A person accustomed to fingers and limbs could not simply learn to manipulate countless tentacles or a worm’s inch-along body with any amount of practice. But once adapted, return was equally impossible.
When Fran wasn’t needed, the ancient witches had to return her soul to the soul container, where she fell into permanent sleep. A devouring worm required enormous quantities of food to stay alive, and keeping her awake at all times was simply unfeasible.
In a sense, she had sacrificed her future for the continuation of the Taquila group—a higher price than Pasha or Alethea, who had transformed into the original carriers. Those two could always watch the world, feel the changes in it. Fran could only eat, work, and sleep.
Her gratitude to Roland was genuine, then—and not only for the relocation work.
He had boasted to her that there would be ongoing work in Neverwinter waiting for her. Enough work to keep her fed and awake. Fortunately, the worm was omnivorous.
“I want to eat hot and seasoned meat porridge, as well as a whole veal with its skin roasted until the skin is greasy!”
Her mouth had watered as she said it.
Although the worm’s appearance was something to get used to, she could sense the world in her own way—taste, pain, temperature—just as the blob could. Roland accepted her gratitude with equal parts laughter and exasperation.
It seemed that no matter the world, the construction industry was always a behemoth that devoured gold.
He’d also asked Pasha what the original and central carrier ate to sustain life. Mud and high temperatures, Pasha had said. That was why they preferred magma.
The answer relieved him somewhat. He wouldn’t be responsible for feeding those who were nearly immortal. The blob gathered energy the way a plant did, not the way a devouring worm did.
He was deep in thought about how to connect the mountain’s underground military facilities to the existing roads—and eventually to the palace of the ancient witches—when an explosion sounded outside.
Roland turned to the French windows in surprise. Black smoke, tangled with looming flames, was rising from the corner of town where the school stood.
“Nightingale!”
“I’ll have Sylvie and Phyllis go and look. Your Majesty, please don’t leave the office.” She was already stepping into her Mist. “I’ll be right back.”
She disappeared completely.
Chapter 751: [Devourer] Fran
Translator: Transn Editor: Meh
…
“Currently, the plan for taking the Southernmost Region is going smoothly. The Iron Whip clan has fallen. Echo entrusted me to send her gratitude to you.”
“It takes some time to prepare for a holy duel, and I expect that the clans in the Iron Sand City will head for the Land of Fire in a week.”
“During the interim, I’ve hired some clansmen to mark the location of the underground Styx River. I believe we’ll soon find a Blackwater River relatively close to the coast.”
“In addition, Your Majesty, how are you going to deal with the Divine Lady of the clan?”
“With my great respect, Iron Axe.”
“Your Majesty, this is the message we received from the Southernmost Region.”
The Sigil of Listening flashed slightly, emitting a red light. Countess Spear paused after reporting, apparently waiting for Roland’s reply.
Then Nightingale handed another Sigil over to Roland.
She placed the Sigil next to her slim legs on the table where she was seated and Roland couldn’t tell whether she did it on purpose or not. Even though it was not summer, she was still wearing a pair of skinny pants that accentuated
her perfect figure. Roland would have to get close to her legs if he wanted to talk into the Sigil.
For Roland, this was a dilemma.
He did not know whether to gaze directly at her legs or glance at them casually.
“Ahem, well done… I mean, Iron Axe.”
“Your Majesty, are you all right?” the Countess inquired. “Your voice is husky. Please, keep warm this winter. You aren’t as strong as the witches.”
“I’m fine,” Roland said as he cleared his throat. “Tell Iron Axe to go forward with the plan if the situation is close to what we expected. As for the Divine Lady, he can endeavor to persuade her to come to Neverwinter. But, if she’s unwilling to leave the Southernmost Region, there’s no need to push her.”
“Is that all?”
“Yeah. I’ll let you know if I have other requirements.”
“I see, then I’ll take my leave, Your Majesty.”
The red light from the Sigil went out.
Roland raised his head and exhaled gently.
Why was he feeling like he had lost something?
Nightingale smiled as she put away the Sigil before slipping off the table and returning to the lounge chair where she could continue to read the picturestory book, “The Witches’ Story,” while she chewed on dried fish.
Roland curled his upper lip and started to concentrate on the real business at hand. They had applied all of the Sigils of Listening in the Desert Mission. The Countess Spear Passi of Fallen Dragon Ridge is transferring the messages to enable them to reach an instant contact between Neverwinter and the advance troops—although calling was still somewhat inconvenient, it
was much faster than the traditional way of delivering a message that would cost them a dozen days as well as a carrier pigeon which, though having saved them a lot of time, still took several days.
He finally felt he would be able to get an overview of the situation without going out of his territory.
Unfortunately, a Sigil of Listening would only work if a witch provided the power. Which meant, at least two Sigils and two witches are necessary for a conversation to transpire, meaning that it would never replace the current communication tools used by common people.
Currently, the laying of the first telephone line in the Western Region was underway. It would directly connect the castle office to the City Hall of the Longsong Area. Meanwhile, the second and third lines were also being planned, which, as expected, would connect the City Halls in both areas so that any commands could be passed with just one call in the future.
Erecting electrical poles was time-consuming and labor-intensive, and furthermore, even the finished poles were vulnerable to the snow and ice. Considering this, Roland decided to do it in a convenient and safe way by setting the cable along the mountains and burying them in the ground by Lotus.
Once the mountain defenses have been established, inevitably the lines would need to increase in order to connect with his office. However, by that time there would be a 10 hand-operated system in place.
Aside from that, Roland was also concerned about the relocation of the ancient Taquila witches.
Maggie and Lightning had taken on the role of patrol. They increased their scope of investigation to30 miles north of the mountains. This way they could signal an early warning in the case of a large-scale demonic beast attack.
After all, the relic of deities that were liable to determine the life and death of the Taquila group deserved to be handled with care.
He had talked with Pasha many times over the past two weeks.
Their idea was very simple. They decided to let the worm carrier open up a mountain channel leading to the Western Region first, and then choose a place where the rock formation was stable and had fewer forked roads and there they would build a palace. After that, the ancient witches would gradually move carriers, materials, and shells for the God’s Punishment Army to their new dwelling before transporting the Instrument of Divine Retribution and the relic of gods.
So far Fran had the best experience relocating, or perhaps Roland should call her… a devouring worm.
Roland was unexpectedly shocked when he saw her squirm her chubby body so she could squeeze before the phantom instrument to express her gratitude to him, mouth gaping.
Later, he learned from Pasha that witches who integrated into carriers would no longer be able to be stored in God’s Punishment Warriors. Both, their perceptions and consciousnesses, were consolidated within the new bodies. The advantage was that the carriers could be used in a rush, but once their current bodies were damaged, they wouldn’t have any other alternative carriers.
Indeed, if the witches did not use this method of bonding, they would not be able to manipulate the body even with a lifetime of practice—how would a person, accustomed to using fingers and limbs, learn to manipulate countless tentacles or a body that had to inch along like a worm? On the contrary, once they had adapted to their peculiar carriers, it was unlikely for them to return to their previous way of life.
When Fran was not in use, ancient witches had to put her soul back to the soul container where she would fall asleep forever, for the devouring worm must consume a large amount of food to keep alive. Certainly, it was not a good experience for Fran at all. In a sense, she sacrificed her future for the continuation of the Taquila group, and she had paid a higher price than Pasha and Alethea who had transformed into the original carriers.
At least the latter could always watch the world and feel the changes happening in the outside world.
So, her gratitude to Roland was palpable.
Another key point that made her feel so grateful was that Roland boasted that there would be ongoing work in Neverwinter waiting for Fran. That meant he would be offering her enough food to keep her energetic. Fortunately, the worm was omnivorous and could accept both cereal and meat.
“I want to eat hot and seasoned meat porridge, as well as a whole veal with its skin roasted to be greasy!”
As Fran said that, her mouth began to water.
Although the worm’s appearance was a bit ugly, they, like the blob, could sense their external environment in a unique way, which included taste, pain, and temperature.
Roland accepted her gratitude in his heart with both laughter and tears.
It seemed that no matter the world, the construction industry would always be a huge behemoth that devoured gold.
Incidentally, he also asked Pasha what the original and central carrier ate to sustain life. Her answer was mud and high temperatures—which was why they liked to stay in magma.
The answer relieved Roland slightly, This meant he wouldn’t have to be responsible for supplying food to those who were nearly immortal. Presumably, the blob was more like a plant in the way it gathered energy when compared to the devouring worms.
Just as he considered how to plan the mountain defense so the underground military facilities would have an effective connection with the current byroads or even the palace of the ancient witches, there was suddenly the sound of an explosion coming from outside the window.
Roland turned and looked out the French window in surprise. He saw black smoke, mixed with some looming flames, rising from the corner of town, where the school would be located.
“Nightingale!”
“I’ll make Sylvie and Phyllis go and take a look. Your Majesty, please don’t leave the office. I’ll be right back!” As Nightingale said this, she entered her Mist and disappeared completely.