Chapter 109

Carl’s pointing finger guided their gazes across the map, and understanding dawned.

“He has connected all the nations, using Parman as a central point. Equidistant, straight lines, all running beneath thriving cities.”

The capitals of landlocked kingdoms like Lindbergh and Leva, as well as other key cities…

All relatively close to the Mochu mountain range, avoiding major lakes and rivers.

“Groundwater,” Belfry murmured, then overlaid another map.

“This map shows the underground aqueducts.”

The distance to Parman decreased significantly when considering the aqueducts.

“This wasn’t a project spanning a few years, but decades. It would have been impossible for people to travel to and from Parman undetected for that long.”

“But if they used the aqueducts, wouldn’t that have given Parman’s citizens a chance to escape? Would their king have allowed that?”

Carl Lindbergh displayed the magic stones collected from Parman.

“These were used to control the monsters. Low-quality, but functional. If they can control ghouls with these, couldn’t they control humans as well?”

A wave of murmurs and gasps rippled through the room.

“The tunnels can’t be too deep, not with the need for ventilation. There might be survivors.”

“If it took decades to reach the aqueducts, how did the other nations not notice? These are major underground waterways, marked on maps.”

Someone voiced their confusion, and Carl Lindbergh rubbed his forehead.

Adrian, studying the map, asked if he could answer, and Carl nodded.

“If the aqueducts were maintained, perhaps. But these areas, including Lindbergh, have been neglected. Law enforcement is inadequate, populations are dwindling… They wouldn’t have the resources or the manpower to monitor the aqueducts, or to care who or what might be living in them. The Imperial Palace has already confirmed this.”

Viscount Drambuie added, “And the fact they evaded Heineken’s intelligence, despite our sensitivity to magical beast activity, suggests they were using Betas with minimal magic, and low-quality magic stones.”

Murmurs erupted again.

Carl Lindbergh raised his hand, silencing the room.

“This is just a theory. Please keep in mind that I might be wrong.”

His voice trembled slightly.

Everyone held their breath, even Marquis Macallan.

“It might sound far-fetched, but… I believe Parman used the land itself to create a massive formula.”

“What?!”

Belfry’s voice was barely a squeak.

“Think of magic stones as simply minerals. The conditions required for their formation are specific soil composition, water, and the remains of magical beasts. And all the affected regions border the Mochu Mountains.”

“Mountains are formed by layers of earth. If the soil is potent enough to create high-quality magic stones, there’s no reason those same properties aren’t present in the surrounding strata.” Belfry mused.

The water flowing from the mountains, the abundance of corpses…

While lacking the pressure required to form magic stones, the earth itself could hold significant magical potential.

If someone could channel magic into it…

“The ancient magic circle connecting Heineken and Lindbergh is also inscribed on a rock,” Carl added, nodding in agreement.

He’d initially assumed the rock itself was a massive magic stone. Then he’d examined the inscription, a long, nonsensical phrase, unlike any ancient magical formula he’d seen.

‘A door to anywhere. True ending ^[1] Changing real final to true ending. .’ It sounded ridiculous.

It was a trap.

A distraction, a trick, perhaps by the goddess, or more likely, the author, designed to make them assume all formulas were written in Korean. He’d forgotten the fundamental principle.

“As I’ve mentioned before, formulas are… language.”

Carl Lindbergh’s hand trembled.

Only a modern-day Korean would understand ‘A door to anywhere’ and ‘true ending.’ Or perhaps someone from a nation with a shared ancient history, a nation whose language held a forgotten connection to these phrases.

Adrian rushed to his side, taking his hand.

“Language isn’t limited to a single form.”

Carl Lindbergh gripped Adrian’s hand, licking his lips nervously.

“Comprehension is key.”

It was like a bolt of lightning, jolting them awake.

The purpose of the grimoires wasn’t just memorization but understanding. Comprehending the meaning of the formulas was essential for their activation.

“If you look at this map… it forms a single character.”

The lines connecting Parman to the other nations formed the Chinese character 理 (li), meaning ‘reason’ or ‘to govern’. To those unfamiliar, it was just a meaningless scribble.

“This means ‘to govern’ or ‘to manage.’ A different language, yes, but it still has meaning. If the King of Parman understands its meaning, then using it as a formula wouldn’t be difficult.”

Viscount Drambuie gasped, his eyes widening in realization.

“If he’s using the earth as a magic stone, the tunnels as the inscription… then all he needs is a powerful source of magic for activation.”

“Which is why he needs the monsters in the Mibari Forest, and the tenjira. To fuel the strokes, the lines that form the character, with a continuous flow of magical energy.”

Nations with mages, nations using magic to fight monsters, and an amplifier…

“The Queen’s transformation… it might indicate he’s gathered enough magic.”

Adrian’s words hung heavy in the air.

Viscount Drambuie rushed towards the makeshift office.

The princess of Leva could wait. They couldn’t allow Parman to activate his formula.

After a brief silence, Carl Lindbergh spoke, his voice firm.

“We have to break the strokes. Magic or not, a broken formula is useless.”

“It seems we’ll have to use our swords, after all.”

The Marquis frowned, but they all saw the flicker of excitement in her eyes.

“And we have to make sure there are no remains within the strokes. No other active magical devices.”

The lead researcher, Viscount Drambuie’s colleague, spoke up.

“Even accumulated dust can become a source of magic.”

“So, we have to excavate the tunnels?”

Marquis Macallan groaned. Such meticulous work was tedious.

The room erupted in discussion.

Carl Lindbergh, studying the map, marked the intersections of each stroke with bold red circles.

“What if… instead of entering the tunnels, we could target these specific areas from above ground?”

Excavating the tunnels would require immense resources and manpower.

But destroying the underground aqueducts from the surface could cause unintended casualties and other unforeseen problems.

Adrian, gently stroking Carl Lindbergh’s increasingly warm forehead, whispered, “You said even a single dot can change a word’s meaning. That’s the power of language.”

 

❖ ❖ ❖

 

Late that night, Carl, restless and unable to sleep, tossed and turned.

War was on the horizon.

A massive army, led by Juniper Hendrick’s knights, was marching towards Parman. The pro-Empire kingdoms, having pledged their allegiance, were sending reinforcements at Glenn’s behest.

Leia Lindbergh, choosing to prioritize domestic affairs, was still traveling through the territories of Lindbergh, stabilizing the kingdom.

Carl, his mind racing with anxieties, finally sat up.

Adrian, beside him, slept soundly.

He must be exhausted. Carl spent his days strategizing, while Adrian was constantly on the move.

His messy hair, his smooth forehead, the sharp angles of his face…

And his lips.

Carl gently kissed them.

Even in his sleep, Adrian’s tongue reached out, seeking his.

It had been meant to be a light, chaste kiss, but it deepened unexpectedly, leaving Carl blushing.

“Are you awake?”

“Hmm…”

Adrian mumbled something, shifting slightly.

Carl leaned closer. “Sleep… it’s okay…”

He was genuinely exhausted and not faking it.

Normally, he’d be awake, his hands all over Carl.

Carl chuckled softly.

Adrian’s arm reached out, pulling Carl closer, his warm breath against Carl’s skin. He instinctively pulled the blanket higher, tucking it around Carl protectively, and patted his back rhythmically.

Even in his sleep, his stamina was impressive.

He’d spent a full day at the border with Marquis Macallan, then returned without rest.

He’d personally imprinted the magic stones procured from Heineken, which Carl Lindbergh had then inscribed with formulas.

The Balvenie Merchant Guild, suspending their operations, had donated their entire stock of magic stones.

Hundreds of devices, high-quality magic stones embedded in dense zircon, were now deployed around the Mibari Forest.

When the Marquis suggested inscribing powerful, life-and-death pronouncements, Carl had refused.

〈Using negative language in formulas borders on dark magic, which I try to avoid. But… desperate times.〉

Lulu, eager for powerful magic, had tried to persuade him, but Carl had held firm.

‘Impassable Wall.’

‘Unreachable Place.’

He wasn’t sure they’d be effective. The Marquis, seeing his doubt, had smiled reassuringly.

Overestimating one’s limited abilities was arrogance, but demonstrating true power wasn’t. She’d clearly been trying to encourage him, her expectations clear. But Carl hadn’t questioned her.

Gently stroking Adrian’s hair, Carl thought of all the people he’d encountered – the citizens of Lindbergh, the Emperor and Empress, the servants and knights of Heineken.

He thought of those he didn’t know, the countless victims who’d perished while he’d been a bystander in a novel.

He thought of Jeon Jae-young, his sister, his whole world, and his incredible luck at being given a second chance to live in the same world as her.

He looked at Adrian, sleeping peacefully, marveling at his own fate, at the unexpected love he’d found for a man.

He couldn’t let any of it go.

• 1. Changing real final to true ending.