Chương 42: By Force?

The silver-gray metal made him money. Too much. Kichan held the coin purse and felt no joy. Ren bought dried provisions and everything they would need for the road generously. Water flasks, rough cloth, a small knife, needle and thread, hard bread for the journey. The preparations were better. That bothered him even more. Even as they slipped out of the market alley, people's gazes clung to their backs. Some were still talking about the silver-gray metal, and some looked at Kichan's hands.

The coin purse swung heavily at his hip. The preparations were far better than when they had left the village, but Kichan felt exactly like he was carrying one more burden. The heavier the coin purse got, the more uneasy Kichan became.

"Having money makes me more nervous." Dust kept looking toward the gold lump hidden inside his clothes, and Kichan pressed it down.

"Stop looking." Dust folded one leg neatly. It looked like it meant understood.

"Answering well, at least." That was when the investigator appeared. At a glance, he looked like a travel recorder or a low-ranking Magic Tower clerk. A gray outer robe with little dust on it, a thin recording cord wrapped around his wrist, a flat leather case at his waist. No sword, but instead many small glass plates and folded papers. He did not approach Kichan directly. He spoke to Ren first. His tone was gentle, and he lowered his head.

But his eyes, while looking at Ren, kept drifting to Kichan's hands, the inside of his clothes, and behind his back. The mana-less stranger. The lord's manor. Healing. Wings. Kichan could not catch most of it. But a few words landed. And he knew people kept looking at his back.

"What's on my back?" The investigator smiled. It was ambiguous whether it was an apologetic smile or the smile of a man who had gotten his record. Then he held out a thin glass measuring plate. The glass plate was slightly larger than a palm. Inside, hair-thin lines overlapped, and a very small piece of metal was embedded in one corner. It was no cheap market item. Kichan did not take it right away.

"What happens if I touch this?" Ren translated, and the investigator first pressed his own hand against it. Nothing happened. That action was even more suspicious. Kichan did not take it with his hand. He touched it with the tip of the Tap-rod first. The lines inside the glass plate broke briefly. The broken lines soon reconnected, but their direction had shifted slightly. The investigator's eyes lit up, very faintly.

The investigator said that if they went to the record hall and treatment center of the great city, they could see old records, mana-less treatment cases, and traces similar to Kichan's movements. Kichan did not catch all of it. Still, he picked up words like record, old, and something close to return path. The fragment inside his clothes turned faintly hot.

"Guide us." He looked at the investigator.

"But try anything weird, and it's the Tap-rod." The investigator smiled without understanding. Ren did not smile. Ren was actually looking at the glass plate in the investigator's hand. It was a face that had also seen the spot where the briefly broken lines had reconnected. That night, lines were added to the investigator's report. `No mana. ` `Psychic pressure unverified. ` `Possible match with wing report. ` `Patient reaction verification needed. ` You could be reading stolen content.

Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. `Metal alteration sighting report. Gold unsecured. Unidentified silver-gray metal presumed transferred to market metal merchant. ` The news in the last line went elsewhere too. It went to the western finance office of the royal palace. Even though it was late at night, lamps were lit inside the long room. On wall shelves, ledgers sealed with wax were stacked in layers, and on the long desk, coin bundles, tax slips, and thin boards recording mine revenues lay scattered.

The royal finance officer stopped his finger while reading the report. He was a dry man. Dark beneath the eyes, ink soaked into his nails. At first, his face was just flipping through an annoying Magic Tower report, but the moment he read the words iron, gold, unidentified silver-gray metal, his lips thinned. He did not fold the report. Instead, he rang a small silver bell on one side of the desk once. When an attendant entered, the finance officer wordlessly pressed his finger to the last line of the report.

The attendant's face also stiffened briefly. Talk of gold was not something the finance office could treat as a joke. The report was folded again and went deeper into the royal palace. In the queen's study, the scent of incense lay thin. The windows were closed, and between thick curtains only lamplight flickered like gold thread. There were no hunting paintings on the walls, no weapon decorations. Instead, old maps and small wooden tags with people's names sat on a low table.

The queen read the report to the end and did not smile. She pressed the last line with her fingertip once. The head lady-in-waiting standing beside her did not look at the queen's expression but only at her fingertip. It was the attitude of someone who knew a stopped finger was more dangerous than an unsmiling face.

"If a mana-less person can turn iron into gold, it is not something to leave only to the Magic Tower." The queen's voice was low. It was not a voice of surprise, nor a voice revealing greed. It was the voice of someone already drawing a new line in the ledger. That night, the queen sent people toward the market. The order was to first confirm who the metal merchant was that had bought the silver-gray metal from the stranger, and whether the metal was still in the market.

And one confidant quietly headed toward the great city. The order was simple. Identify and expose the people connected to that stranger.

The small temple lodgings sat on a roadside hill. A low stone wall and a water basin, an old bell tower, a wide front yard where travelers could shake the dirt from their shoes. Inside the stone wall stood a few wooden posts for tying horses and beasts, and beside the water pail, the smell of wet straw lingered. People who had walked a long time sat in the shade rubbing their ankles. The temple gave travelers water and a place to sleep. In return, it checked their mana and divinity.

Kichan looked at the holy water bowl and grimaced.

"Hand on it again?" A young priest held out the holy water bowl. The priest tried to smile, but his eyes went to the investigator first. The investigator stood one step behind. His wrist wrapped in the recording cord was still, and only his eyes moved between the holy water bowl and Kichan's hand. When Kichan brought his hand close, the surface of the water was strangely calm. So calm it was strange. But the silver ornament on the rim of the bowl died black briefly, then came back.

The young priest pretended not to see. Only the corner of his mouth forced itself upward. The old priest saw. The small towel in his hand stopped. The investigator also saw. He said nothing. Kichan did not see. He was looking at the bread basket beside the water bowl.

"Is that free?" Ren sighed. A moment later, the sound of crying came from the temple's front yard. At first Kichan thought it was a child crying. But the crying came from the young assistant priest's side. Next to him, a young priest was clutching his throat and choking. He could not speak. He could not even cough properly. His fingers were dug into his neck, his mouth was open, but no sound came out. His face flushed red, then quickly cooled to blue. The priests around him scattered and gathered again.

Someone went for holy water, someone struck his back, someone knelt and poured out words. But in that time, the priest's shoulders only grew more rigid. Kichan's expression hardened.

"Not praying. Move." The words did not get through. Still, when Kichan pushed through the people, several priests stepped back by reflex. Ren also shouted something short and made a path with his hands. Kichan wrapped his arms around the priest's waist from behind, and gripped above the navel and below the breastbone, pushing upward. Once. The priest's heels jerked. Twice. The young assistant priest swallowed his crying. On the third push, something like a small piece of fruit shot out of the priest's mouth.

The priest slumped to the ground and gasped roughly. Kichan checked the breathing sound first.

"Good. Breathing." The priests had watched a treatment that used no holy water, no incantation. The young priest was still holding the holy water bowl. His hand trembled slightly. The old priest looked at Kichan's hands, the collapsed priest's back, and the piece of fruit on the ground in turn. The investigator even watched that hand movement. Kichan put his hand into the holy water bowl to wash it. At that moment, one water drop fell late.

The water drop spread briefly into the shape of a small shield, then collapsed as just water. Kichan, tired, thought he had seen wrong.

"What." Dust, as if it had seen that water drop, pressed itself low. A priestess brought warm tea and bread. She glanced once at the priest who had just recovered his breath, then quietly offered them to Kichan. Among the priests, several were still looking at Kichan. The priestess stepped half a step sideways as if to block those gazes. Her expression was cautious, but her hands did not pull back. Kichan looked at the priests' eyes, then just took them.

"Someone who gives food is a good person first." The old priest wrote a sealed letter that night. The small room smelled of candle wax. On the desk, wet towel marks and undried holy water traces remained. The old priest wrote the lines, paused once, and looked toward the front yard. The young priest who had recovered his breath coughed low. The seal was stamped with a small owl emblem. Kichan looked at the emblem and just muttered.

"Owl?" The priests did not treat that seal lightly. Inside the letter, short lines were written. `No divine reaction. ` `No demonic reaction. ` `Yet abnormal holy water response. ` `Recovery of choking patient without prayer. ` `Possible connection to wing report. ` That same night, on Earth, one flowerpot Kichan had planted began to grow strangely.