Chapter Twenty-Nine: Tiga

Carroll had already led the Gillian Brotherhood deep into the inner city, where they were wreaking havoc—burning, killing, and looting with abandon. Witnessing this, Schmidt wore a look of utter satisfaction. With such a commotion, it was certain that the city guards stationed at the supply depot would be alarmed and called away. Once they left to reinforce the inner city, he would have the perfect opportunity to set the supplies alight.

Indeed, when he reached the vicinity of the supply depot, he found that more than half the guards had already departed. He went to the agreed-upon rendezvous to look for Bill and Jera, but they were nowhere to be found. Cursing under his breath, Schmidt chose not to wait any longer. Once again, employing his usual trick, he transformed himself into the likeness of a city guard and swaggered into the ranks of the remaining defenders.

Unbeknownst to him, not far away in a loft, Bill and Jera were watching him through spyglasses, each holding one and peering through the window at his every move. When they saw him assume the guise of a guard, both were greatly astonished. Until now, they had always believed Schmidt to be a knight.

“Hey, this kid’s quite something, hiding his true nature so well,” Bill muttered, his leg bouncing as he squinted through the spyglass. The two spyglasses, of course, were yet another of Bill’s alchemical inventions.

“Indeed. I never imagined he had the ability to transform into others. That means anyone we’ve met could have been him in disguise. The more I think about it, the more unsettling it becomes,” Jera mused.

Bill, hearing this, couldn’t help but touch the necklace hanging at his chest. Silently, he thought to himself, “Hey, old man, has this guy ever approached us disguised as someone else?”

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than an ancient voice echoed in his head. “Boy, do you really take me for an omniscient being? I can’t say for certain whether he’s ever come near you after transforming.”

“And even now, I can’t see any trace of transformation magic on him. Clearly, he’s not shape-shifting through sorcery. He likely possesses some secret artifact that allows him to change form. If you ever get the chance, you must acquire it for study. It would be a great boon to your alchemy...”

At that moment, Jera’s gaze fell upon Bill’s hand, still clutching the necklace. Bill gave an awkward smile and quickly let go, the old man’s voice fading from his mind as he did so.

“Uh... It’s a fine night, isn’t it?” Bill finally managed to say, glancing at the bright moon outside as he exhaled in relief.

“As long as you’re happy, Brother Bill,” Jera replied, casting another sidelong look at him, which made Bill only more flustered. He hastily excused himself to the kitchen under the pretense of fetching something to eat.

A moment ago, Bill had almost thought Jera had discovered his secret.

Indeed, the reason Bill had been able to discern the secrets of the Prague Answering Chair and attain a decent level of alchemical skill was because he had inadvertently come into possession of the “Diga Necklace” he now wore.

More precisely, it was due to the spirit residing within that necklace, “Diga the Radiant Arcanist.”

According to Diga, he was a figure from ten millennia ago. In those days, spellcasters were known as arcanists, and they lived in a great nation known as the Arcane Empire. Diga had been a member of the Royal Alchemist Society and scion of a prominent family within the empire.

He had been both the genius arcanist and alchemist of his house. Sent by his family to oversee this plane, his task was to eradicate an indigenous evil god named “Aplessin.”

Diga had not expected the native god to be so difficult to handle. Despite exhausting all his means, he could only barely seal the evil deity, unable to destroy it outright. In the process of sealing, Diga suffered grievous wounds that could not be mended. He sent distress signals to his family, but received no response.

At last, mortally wounded and unwilling to die, he drew upon all his alchemical prowess and the lich transformation method he had stumbled upon, finally crafting the “Diga Necklace”—a vessel for his soul. He abandoned his flesh and took refuge within it.

The necklace offered little in the way of arcane utility, save for providing an optimal environment for a soul’s survival and recuperation, and the ability to slowly absorb ambient magical energy to strengthen the spirit within.

Over the millennia, the slow absorption of magical energy had only barely sustained Diga’s existence. Even so, he was forced to enter prolonged slumbers at intervals to minimize his consumption.

He left behind clues for his family to find the necklace and help him regain a body, but before they could arrive, the necklace fell into the hands of a local boy. Diga thought that, with careful guidance, the boy might someday restore him to corporeal form.

But ill fortune struck before his plans could be set in motion—the boy was devoured by a blue-faced lion beast. The necklace, along with the beast’s droppings, was buried in a pit dug by the creature itself...

Time passed, empires rose and fell, and after several upheavals of the earth, the necklace finally saw daylight once more. Through a series of twists and turns, it eventually fell into the hands of Bill, a young sorcery apprentice. When Bill, out of idle curiosity, poured his mental energy into the necklace, he at last experienced what it meant to be on the receiving end of ten thousand years’ worth of pent-up chatter.

Annoying though Diga’s loquacity could be, his knowledge and experience were invaluable to Bill, who had never even set foot outside Dallas City.

After much tentative probing, the two finally reached an arrangement that satisfied them both: Diga would instruct and nurture Bill’s growth, and Bill would help Diga restore his body.

Unlike Andy and Katherine, Bill was a true orphan, taken in by Stein after being found abandoned. Because Stein was perennially absorbed in his research, Bill became fiercely independent. Though he appeared carefree, he was in fact diligent and hardworking. Coupled with the occasional “borrowing” of things from the wizard’s tower for extra income, he had amassed considerable savings and lived comfortably.

Thus, he was able to support his own alchemical studies and research, and could, without hesitation, rent this well-situated loft with Jera.

The kitchen was fully stocked with utensils and provisions, yet Bill made no move to prepare anything. Instead, he sent a pulse of mental energy into the necklace, and immediately the familiar, rambling voice filled his mind.

“Boy, are you trying to give me a heart attack? You mustn’t contact me in front of that girl!”

“Do you even know what she is? She’s just now awakening, not yet in full control of her powers. If she fully awakens, you’ll never be able to keep any secrets from her, not if you spend every day at her side. Take my advice—find another girl to pursue...”

“Wait, wait—what are you saying about Jera?” At the mention of Jera, Bill nearly blurted out loud in his agitation.

“Ah...” Diga sighed deeply before explaining. “If I’m not mistaken, that girl is beginning to awaken the blood of the Blind Seer. That bloodline was exceedingly rare even in the Arcane Empire ten thousand years ago.”

“Only two in history ever fully awakened it. They were not merely products of their era—they were the ones who shaped and defined it.”

“One lived before the Arcane Empire was founded; she led the spellcasters—then called mages—in repelling the invasion of the abyssal demons. Not only did she turn the tide, she struck back, pierced the endless Abyss, and enslaved legions of demons.”

“The other was the wife of our Empire’s greatest sovereign, Morpheus. It was with her aid that His Majesty founded an empire able to rival the gods of the heavens themselves.”

At this point, Diga fell into a strange silence, recalling how, ten thousand years ago at an imperial celebration, he had glimpsed the queen from afar. Just a single glance, and the impression haunted him for life. Though tens of thousands were present and the queen never noticed him, he felt laid bare before her gaze, as though every secret, every thought—even his future—had been completely exposed.

Not even in the presence of the celestial gods on the battlefield had he ever felt such a thing.

Such was the power of one in whom the blood of the Blind Seer was fully awakened: a being who held the solutions to the world’s most intricate riddles, who could foresee destiny above and discern the heart below.