The Strange Adventures of Hearn the Believer

Page 60

Mr. Hearn seemed to be reciting a eulogy for the tree or muttering something to convince himself, then went around to find a reasonably suitable spot and threw a fireball.

A blue fireball the size of a bullet.

This time, there was no expected explosion from the third-circle Fireball spell of the Evocation system; instead, a spherical space with a radius of about three meters was silently left on the tree trunk.

Tonight's campsite was easily set up, and the surrounding wildlife was also cleared away. Everything went smoothly, and even the tense atmosphere within the team dissipated.

Eirin's gaze met Deedlit's for a moment, and both of them read the same question in each other's eyes.

Hearn calls that a magic missile!?

"I had a feeling that fox was thinking something very rude, especially when it was staring at you just now." Aoko leaned closer and started fiddling with the small object in front of Nobunaga. "Is it not done yet?"

“I’ve already prepared it. You can choose one yourself.” Xin Nu rolled her eyes and muttered helplessly, “Both of them are locals from the Tree Sea who are close to nature. If you keep making things up like this, we’ll probably start fighting within the team.”

"Didn't you agree to that?"

"I agreed again? I thought you were going to cut a hole in the tree to sleep in, that's why I nodded in agreement. Who knew you'd blow the tree up in half!?"

"Oops, oops. It's been too long since I've been back to the Nether, I'm a bit out of sorts. Who knew that the Mana in Thranheim would be so plentiful? I guess it really is the burial place of the Lord of Light. I went too far without even realizing it."

Aoko, for the first time in a long time, put on an innocent expression as if trying to get away with it, and then pointed to the ornate lantern in front of the believer.

I think you've been looked down upon and criticized all afternoon, so you're feeling resentful and looking for an opportunity to assert your authority.

To quell this pointless argument, the believer swallowed her words, then pressed her index finger against the top of the lantern, imbuing it with the spirituality of a magic spellcasting device and the qualities of "resting in a bottle."

Otherworldly overlords, such as the Giant Spirit Nobles, might bestow upon their contractors a magical artifact the quality of "Nap in a Bottle." This artifact creates a hyperdimensional space within itself, with a comfortable temperature and furnished with cushions and a small table. The user can arrange furniture to their liking and store external items. Furthermore, while inside the artifact, the user can hear external sounds and participate in team discussions as if they were physically present within it. The world inside the bottle is invisible to the outside world unless the artifact is destroyed. In short, it is an essential tool for adventurers, whether for home, travel, or even murder and robbery.

"I've already packed everything that needs to be arranged. Go inside and freshen up. Don't forget to come out for the meeting later."

The flickering blue flame in the lantern signified that spirituality had been successfully bestowed. Aoko pulled Pandora, who was sitting on the other side, and before the little girl could react, they vanished without a trace.

Driven by an academic spirit of inquiry, Deedlit naturally observed the entire process of the believer creating the magical artifact. As a learned spellcaster, she was certainly knowledgeable about its value.

"Giant Spirit Artifact?" Deedlit paused slightly after Aoko and the others disappeared, then quickly asked tentatively.

"Similar, nothing more," the believer explained succinctly.

"Why didn't you bring out something this good sooner?" Deedlit looked at Mr. Hearn with hopeful eyes, her gaze filled with loving rays. "I'm going crazy from not having a bath for two days!"

Mr. Hearn couldn't resist the crazy hints in this mischievous fellow's eyes. Besides, his original intention in creating this magical artifact was to quell the conflicts within the team. Therefore, he made a "please" gesture.

Deedlit, the fun-loving girl, cheered and pounced on them, only to vanish without a trace in an instant.

With such a commotion, it naturally didn't escape the white fox's notice. Yonglin tentatively pointed to herself and blinked her big, watery eyes.

Mr. Hearn pondered for a moment, then stepped forward, slapped the white fox on the rump, and then put his arm around the fox's shoulder and sat down together at the edge of the tree hole, gazing at the night view of the forest.

"Forget about it, just come with me on guard duty."

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah?"

If we have to point out a drawback of "A Short Rest in a Bottle," it is obvious that a trustworthy person is needed to protect the magical artifact from damage, and such a person is often the caster himself.

In short, let's drag someone down with us and share the hardships.

Mr. Hearn, who was feeling quite depressed, glanced at Yonglin, whose ears were drooping as if she had given up, and suddenly felt a little better.

Chapter 112 Night Tour of the Tree Sea

The above statements about careers are basically nonsense.

Mr. Hearn only needed an excuse to justify the team's actions. He knew very well how much unnecessary trouble being an outsider would bring him, and that some things couldn't be easily dismissed with a simple "local specialty."

Thranheim has its own rules. Unlike past experiences, it is unfortunately a stage that is too vast. In a short-term and relatively closed environment, one can naturally do whatever is most efficient. However, the current environment involves too many interpersonal entanglements, so one has to proceed slowly.

Just like now, he vaguely sensed that the princess from the Far East was the most crucial cog in the machine that was driving everything, and the team she led was the most prominent weather vane. So he was willing to play the role of a mercenary hired by her, to help her move the script forward and see how many more monsters and demons would appear on the stage.

It was fine when he was alone before. Mr. Hearn's style of doing things tended to be low-key in public, or in other words, he was a loner in private. Now that he was leading a team and had been implicitly elected as the captain by his companions, he was actually a little unaccustomed to it.

After washing up, the girls looked refreshed, and even the little girl Pandora, who still called herself a silicon-based life form, had her light gray hair become a bit fluffy.

Mr. Hearn furnished the Lantern Magic Device like a small adventurer's home, with everything one could need. Such treatment seemed a bit too luxurious for a difficult journey. If word got out, given his decision to stay in Thranheim as a mercenary year-round, he would probably become a hot commodity in the industry.

On such a cold winter night, being able to take a comfortable bath during an adventure should be a luxurious treat, but Eirin is destined not to have that privilege now. Mr. Hearn casually touched him and himself, casting a "mysterious spell from the East," and the dust and grime on their bodies vanished like smoke.

Yonglin belatedly realized that she was no longer burdened by the dust of her journey and thanked Mr. Hern.

“Mr. Hern is truly a jack-of-all-trades. I’ve met several sorcerers in the past, but none of them are as adept as you, Mr. Hern. It seems like you’re prepared for everything. I’m really curious about just how powerful the otherworldly lord you’ve made a pact with is.”

Eirin wasn't coveting Mr. Hern's combat abilities; she was simply genuinely envious and slightly jealous of the various convenient home and travel abilities he possessed.

Asking a sorcerer about their contract leader is a very reckless and dangerous thing, because the true identity of the contract leader is the core of a sorcerer's power. Peeping into a sorcerer's secrets often invites the sorcerer to kill you to silence you.

Mr. Hearn had no such concerns, because his identity as a sorcerer was just a disguise.

So he casually made up a mysterious name to shut Yonglin up.

“Ah, He is called the Lord of the beginning of time, the King of the endless void.”

"I've never heard of him, but he sounds really impressive. Mr. Hern is indeed very capable."

Upon hearing this name, Yonglin felt as if a resounding bell had suddenly rang in the depths of her soul, and the merciless hands of time had etched an inscription of the past. She couldn't help but feel a deep sense of awe and respect.

"Yeah, I think so too."

Seeing his serious expression, the believer couldn't help but twitch her lips. She then stood up and walked back, too lazy to pay any more attention to this overly naive fox.

Then he saw two big-tailed wolves, who had just taken a bath, staring straight at him.

Pandora gazed intently at him, with a look of astonishment and hope she had never seen since they met.

"Mr. Hern, are you also Miss Nobu's contractor? Do you know where Miss Nobu went?"

"What the heck is Miss Radish? Is she the host of an afternoon children's cooking show?" Xin Nu rolled her eyes, walked over and sat down, giving her a flick on the forehead. "Wake up, did you get dizzy from taking a bath? Or did you remember something again?"

Since they met, he has felt that this girl's mental age has been declining. When they first met in the forest, she was a heartless killing machine. In the clouds, she was like a high school sophomore girl who suspected she had a doppelganger. As she has come this far, he feels that she is about to become a precocious chuunibyou (middle school syndrome) girl.

Pandora opened her mouth slightly as if to say something, but after realizing that there were too many people around and it was noisy, she simply shook her head.

The believer was puzzled by this, and turned her head to meet Aoko's disdainful look, which resembled that of an American cockroach crawling out of a toaster when she went to the kitchen early in the morning to toast buttered bread.

"Huh? What's wrong with you again?" Unlike with the little girl, the vengeful and quick-tempered Xin Nu fiercely rejected that disdainful gaze. When dealing with Qingzi, her old nemesis, she never bothered to give her any face.

"You come with me for a bit!" Without saying a word, Qingzi grabbed him and headed out of the tree hole, then jumped down.

"Hey hey hey? Where are you guys going so late? Anyway, be careful!"

From afar, Yonglin's anxious and concerned voice could be heard, but it quickly faded away.

In the forest at night, the moonlight could be faintly seen. Thanks to the earlier collapse of the large tree, even the chirping of insects was scarce among the vegetation around the camp, let alone the sounds of small animals. The moisture in the gray fog slowly descended, coating the surface of the vegetation in the forest, then gathering into night dew, which slid into the soil.

The winding river snaked its way through the forest and flowed north, serving as a landmark for the team's two-day northward journey. Where there is water, there are settlements; if they continued north, they would eventually encounter human habitation.

Deedlit said it was a mining town called Mystaril, belonging to the kingdom of the Forest Elves, but jointly developed by the Forest Elves and the Rosettas. It used to be famous in the Southern Continent for its silver mines. However, simply producing silver would not have brought it such a high reputation. The real secret lies in the associated mineral veins beneath Mystaril, where streams of silver flow.

Silver Stream, true silver, Moria silver, or mithril—a rare metal that didn't exist in Mr. Hern's year 2092, yet its legends were often heard while traveling through the Nether. It was said to be as malleable as bronze and could be polished like glass. Dwarves could forge it into a metal stronger than steel yet as light as a feather. Its appearance was like ordinary silver, but its luster did not fade with time.

Unfortunately, Mr. Hearn arrived at the wrong time. The white stream beneath Mistarir had already faded away like a fleeting flower fifty years ago, and naturally, Mistarir today is no longer as famous as it once was.

Deedlit, acting as his guide, poured cold water on Mr. Hearn's hopes at the very beginning of the journey, thinking he was going to Mystariel with the intention of striking it rich, and advised him not to have too high hopes.

Mr. Hearn was not discouraged by this. From the very beginning, the princess from the Far East had sent him to Mystariel with a small team, not for any mithril mine.

According to the intelligence provided by Salome Reinhardt, there is indeed a large silver mine underground in Mistariel, but there is no natural mithril reserve at all. What is buried under the mine is actually a legacy of the Yale Empire, or an underground base. The so-called silver stream is most likely the result of a miner accidentally digging through the outer wall of a warehouse, which happened to contain a certain amount of mithril.

She entrusted Mr. Hearn to retrieve something from there, and after obtaining it, to reunite with him in Ausuan, the capital of the Linjing Empire.

"Your Highness, they dug into your backyard fifty years ago. Do you expect it hasn't been completely emptied out? Are you sure I won't have come all this way for nothing?"

"Mr. Hern, first of all, let me clarify that it is just an underground research institute, not my backyard. Secondly, I have great confidence in the infrastructure level of Yale during its golden age. Even if those barbarians living in the Middle Ages dug for another hundred years, they would never be able to dig into the core area. Moreover, the core area is a magic-free zone, so even teleportation magic cannot get in."

"Since this place is so dangerous and hidden, what merit do I have to be able to enter?"

"That's naturally thanks to the miracle you performed, Mr. Hern, saving over 20,000 people while chatting and laughing on the high seas."

""

So that's when he lost money and became a target for thieves. Sure enough, the prettier the woman, the more likely she is to deceive people. Didn't he understand this principle a long time ago?

The believer snapped out of her aimless reverie and finally understood why the princess from the Far East had cared so much for her.

Along the winding riverside wetlands, Shinjo was still being forcefully pulled by Aoko's hand as they wandered aimlessly through the night.

Chapter 113 So-called Magic

The believer tilted her head back and gazed aimlessly at the starry sky.

Even though the sea of ​​trees blocked out the sky, and even though the canopy of the sky obscured the heavens, he could still see the starry sky with a little effort.

As night fell, a chill descended upon the forest. The two who had been strolling along the riverbank at night gradually had their breath turn into wisps of white mist, left behind. A faint pull came from her right hand, and the soft touch of the earth beneath her feet gave way to a feeling of unease. The woman, who had been silent all along, pulled her thoughts back from the distant starry sky and began to ponder the meaning of this "aimless" state of mind.

In the distant past, so distant that it can be traced back to childhood, this languid mood was a luxury for the believer Hearn.

Mr. Hearn didn't consider himself a naturally diligent person, and he would gladly accept any opportunity to rest. But during his years living in the "countryside," and indeed throughout his childhood, he never stopped to admire the scenery along the way.

He kept running, never stopping, moving forward towards a destination no one had ever imagined, a destination he believed could answer everything.

Along the way, I briefly walked alongside several people who were called "friends," but in the blink of an eye, I had to leave them behind and eventually disappear from sight.

Most lone travelers in the world only realize they are all alone when they look back after crossing the finish line.

He believed that the woman's words were slightly better than his own—a fact he realized even before crossing the finish line.

Life is like a play, and he just happened to draw Hamlet.

During her early days in Zurich, the believer read the original Hamlet, the prince's revenge story written by Shakespeare in 1602, out of a sense of nostalgia.

Claudius, the patricide and tyrannical ruler, usurped the Danish throne from his brother and married Gertrude, his widow. Hamlet, the prince of vengeance, rushed back to Denmark from Germany, learned the truth, and after many twists and turns, mistakenly killed the vizier Polonius, lost his beloved Ophelia, and incurred the blood feud of his sworn brother Laertes, forcing him into a public duel. Claudius secretly poisoned his sword, intending to kill two birds with one stone.

At the end of the story, Hamlet kills Claudius with his own hands, and then he and Laertes both die from poisoning.

Only Horatio, an old friend who witnessed the entire tragedy, remained to tell this story with no winners to those who came after.

So, who was the poorly executed Hamlet, performed by the former Noblewoman Hearn, which had no rehearsals, could only be done in one take, and had no audience, actually intended for?

Is it Claudius, or Gertrude?

Is it Polonius or Laertes?

Is it Ophelia? Or Horatio?

Looking back now, none of that is actually true.

Hamlet was originally performed for Hamlet himself. From the moment he was born, he was the first audience of his life. Even if Horatio, a witness, did not exist, Hamlet himself would bring Hamlet to a close under the influence of hatred.

What drives the past believer Hearn forward, besides hatred, is nothing more than a clear conscience.

It's not because we can move forward with a clear conscience that we do so, but rather we move forward in order to have a clear conscience.

In this way, Hearn, who has lived a life of integrity and without regret, will naturally have no regrets.

However, perhaps because she had worked too hard in the past, this situation of being pulled forward step by step is a strange and precious experience for the believer.

With this thought in mind, he couldn't help but chuckle to himself.

"You suddenly started laughing, did something good happen?"

"probably."

"A guy who walks behind a girl late at night and laughs for no reason always feels disgusting."

"Huh? A girl? Where is she? Where is she?"

The believer was slightly taken aback, then let out a brief exclamation, pretending to look around, and then quickly stepped to the side, skillfully dodging the spinning kick coming from directly in front.

The aimless night stroll came to a temporary end. The woman was now facing Aoko, who was clearly unwilling to give up after missing her kick. The latter quickly assumed the starting stance again.

The believer, arms crossed, pondered how to avoid the impending fight. After all, they had already fought behind Pandora's back during the day, and another one would be a bit troublesome.

Perhaps it was thanks to his earlier contemplation, but he asked softly as if possessed.

"By the way, Horatio, you haven't been spreading all those dirty secrets of mine around, have you?"

"Huh? What nonsense are you spouting all of? Of course not. Besides, there's no Hamlet like you in the world who blew up the theater. If you were Hamlet, you'd better just die of poison after you've taken your revenge."

The momentum that Aoko had built up vanished completely at his ambiguous question, and she even dropped her fighting stance. The expression on her face changed from the anger she had just felt to a sense of helplessness, as if she thought, "I really can't do anything with you, you idiot."

However, it was the believer who was truly frightened.

"Huh? You actually accepted it."

"No, what kind of misunderstanding do you have about me that makes you think I haven't even read Shakespeare's four great tragedies?"

Seeing his exaggerated expression, Qingzi's anger, which had just subsided, reignited.

"Hmm, I always thought you were the efficiency-oriented type like me," the believer jokingly gestured with a punch, then withdrew her hand. "A pragmatist."