novelraw Chapter 95: The Undoer
Chapter 95: The Undoer
After leaving Saint-Nazareth University, Fischer walked a considerable distance before reaching the nearest tram station. Earlier, he had made a phone call from his office to notify Tlander and ask him to come to his rental flat. Today was Monday; that fellow would get off work at noon, and his afternoon plans most likely involved the Pink Pavilion or some other establishment catering to bodily pleasures.
Having a regular patron like him as a guide meant Fischer could ask about anything he didn't know, and it would reduce the risk. But before that, he needed to go home and retrieve something. He had no intention of walking in openly or slapping on some crude disguise — he had a far more sophisticated method of concealment.
As mentioned before, Fischer's Demi-Human Completion Handbook currently contained records on two female demi-humans. During his journey across the Southern Continent he had gained a great deal from Raphaela, including the Fimabahah Draconic Court language, the Dragon Court spellbooks, and leads on Dragon Court ruins. As for Renee — although she was not the Undying Witch — researching her had also yielded some rewards.
Renee's research progress lagged far behind Raphaela's. Because of Renee's abrasive personality, Fischer could tell that beneath her outrageous teasing lay a strict, guarded defensive line. Only someone like Fischer could get close enough to even touch her; anyone else wouldn't have managed so much as brushing against her skin. As a result, his progress on the Witch species had always been slow.
Strangely, though, even with so few research sessions, Renee's progress bar had risen quite substantially — it now exceeded fifty percent. In addition to boosts in mana-circuit strength and constitution, Fischer had obtained two items from the Completion Handbook.
Before long, Fischer disembarked from the tram in the Saint-Nazareth city center. After transferring once or twice, he finally arrived back at his rental flat.
It was just past noon. Masha had already finished lunch and gone out to visit a neighbor. Fischer scrounged up some cold pumpkin porridge in the kitchen to tide himself over, then headed upstairs to his room.
He lay on the floor, reached under the bed, and pulled out a heavy safe. What he was looking for was sealed inside.
He dialed in the combination. The moment the safe opened, an intensely rich, mysterious fragrance wafted out. Fischer furrowed his brow and extracted a viscous, aloe-gel-like substance from within. Thread-like strands of light radiated from its entire surface, as though it were alive.
This was the first reward obtained from Renee — the Undoer, a relic.The blob of gelatinous material currently in Fischer's hand was not its true form, which was why it looked somewhat unsightly. Its real function was to alter the wearer's appearance upon application. It would completely reshape one's bone structure and skin texture — far surpassing any conventional disguise technique — but maintaining the altered appearance required a steady expenditure of mana, placing a burden on the body.
When the Completion Handbook had bestowed this upon Fischer, it had included a single special note clarifying its origin:
"She of a Thousand Faces — this is proof that the Undying One once hid among mortals."
Fischer speculated that this may have been an object once used by the Undying Witch. When he first obtained it, he had tried using tracking magic. The spell had activated, yet the indicator simply pointed straight up and remained fixed there, as though oriented toward no direction at all.
There were two possible explanations. The first was that the veil's owner lived high up in the sky — but given the angle, they would have had to be residing on the moon or the sun for it to make sense. The second possibility was that the owner was already dead, leaving the spell unable to lock onto any location.
In the end, Fischer had even begun to doubt whether the item was truly a relic of the Undying Witch. Realizing he couldn't extract any further information from it, he had simply stored it away.
He had not brought it along on the Southern Continent expedition because it continuously drained mana simply by being carried, and there had been no reason to lug an extra heavy safe onto the carriage. Under normal circumstances he didn't need it.
Now, however, visiting the Pink Pavilion called for its modest assistance.
The instant the transparent, gelatinous substance made contact with Fischer's fingers, his mana circuits flared to life. A stream of pure mana was siphoned into the substance, and as it fed, its state shifted from a puddle of "aloe gel" into something resembling fine silk gauze. Intricate patterns adorned its surface, accompanied by a timeless, elusive fragrance — as though confirming that it had once been someone's intimate possession.
Yet the scent was unfamiliar to Fischer. He had never encountered it before.
He did not put the veil on immediately. Its effect was simply too perfect; he planned to wait until Tlander arrived before donning it, to spare himself the time of explaining.
Fischer glanced down into the safe. Inside it lay an ancient-looking parchment scroll — another reward from his Witch research. It was called "Location of the Witch Tower," a map, the same type of item as the Dragon Court ruin leads obtained from Raphaela.
But this map was utterly incomprehensible to Fischer. Its script and illustrations were extraordinarily archaic, definitively not belonging to any currently known language. Curiously, Fischer could read the Dragon Court ruin locations on the Southern Continent using the Draconic Court language, yet he could not decipher the markings on this Western Continent Witch Tower map.
He had been keeping an eye out for any language that might correspond to the text on the map, but had come up empty. So for now he kept it stored alongside the Undoer.
This time, Fischer reviewed the map's contents once more. Mid-reading, the doorbell rang downstairs. That would be Tlander.
He put the map away, took the Undoer, and headed downstairs. Opening the door, he found — sure enough — the blond man with his signature slicked-back hair standing outside. The day was scorching, and he was drenched in sweat, yet he still couldn't resist running a hand through that elaborate hairdo before addressing Fischer.
"So, what's the rush calling me over now? I've got a side job this afternoon."
Fischer eyed his slightly wan complexion. The old saying was true: the weaker the body, the greater the craving. Fischer suspected that if this fellow hadn't been paying, the ladies would have kicked him out of bed long ago.
Fischer pulled him inside and said, "Perfect timing. This afternoon, I'm going to the Pink Pavilion with you."
"Oh, sure... Wait — what?! You? Coming with me?"
Tlander's agreement was reflexive, but a second or two later his expression morphed into sheer astonishment. He stared at Fischer in disbelief. Once he confirmed Fischer was serious, he shook his head uncontrollably.
"No, no, absolutely not! There's no way I'm taking you there. If you want to go on your own, fine, but leave me out of it. If Her Majesty Elizabeth finds out I'm the one who brought you, I guarantee my family's estate will be razed to the ground three times over by the Royal Guard!"
He waved both hands and turned on his heel, every ounce of self-preservation propelling him toward the door. The earlier invitation for Fischer to visit the Pink Pavilion had been a joke — Tlander knew Fischer's character well enough to be certain he would never set foot in such a place. But now that Fischer was genuinely intent on going, Tlander refused to be involved.
And who could blame him? Fischer's delicate relationship with Elizabeth was an open secret to anyone of standing in Saint-Nazareth. That was why many a distinguished lady, despite knowing Fischer was talented, young, handsome, and wealthy, dared not approach him. It was probably one of the reasons he was still single at twenty-eight.
Incidentally, in all of Saint-Nazareth, only Masha knew that Renee was at Fischer's side. That woman was the exception — if she did not wish to be discovered, discovery was absolutely impossible.
Fischer sighed. "Just watch."
Tlander turned around in confusion. Fischer raised the Undoer and gently laid it over his own face. A rich, arcane fragrance flooded his nostrils. Within that darkness-like sensation of being enveloped, his features slowly transformed into those of another man entirely.
The change was random, though it wouldn't produce anything extremely ugly or strikingly handsome. Fischer's new appearance was that of a bronze-skinned, ruggedly masculine man — a face brimming with virile charm that immediately reminded Tlander of the Schwari people.
It wasn't that Naris lacked such men — the Nari and Schwari were of the same stock, after all — but the brawny look had simply fallen out of fashion in Naris.
"Mother Goddess preserve me! Is that a relic?! Where did you get it? I can't tell you're Fischer at all!"
Fischer ran a hand over his own face. The texture of silk had vanished entirely, yet he could still feel something clinging to his original skin, pressed flush against every contour.
Removing it would be a bit of a hassle — it required magically infused tweezers or a similar tool to peel off. Bare hands wouldn't work.
"There — satisfied? No one will recognize me as Fischer, and no one will make trouble for you."
"Well, well, Fischer, going this far for a lady — respect. All right, I've got your back. Let's go. This afternoon I'll show you the sights. I'll order a girl from every room — you'll have seven or eight at your side—"
Fischer shook his head and took off his suit jacket. He needed to change into a different outfit to avoid giving himself away.
"I'm going there on business. I'm looking for someone — she's hiding inside the Pink Pavilion."
"It's not for fun?"
Tlander looked as though he'd swallowed a fly. These days he could barely go a few days without visiting the Pink Pavilion. The ladies there were simply — oh, too alluring. They were on an entirely different level from anywhere else. Only there could a man truly appreciate how wonderful and liberating it was to be alive.
Those ladies understood a man's desires perfectly. As long as you had Narios, they would guarantee an exquisitely indulgent stretch of paradise.
"No — you're there to have fun. We're companions. You need to actually enjoy yourself, or I'll be exposed. So you don't need any disguise. Act exactly the way you always do, and nothing will go wrong."
Fischer emerged in a brown suit. These words brightened Tlander's expression at once. He exhaled in relief and thumped his chest with confidence.
"Relax — this is my area of expertise. Even with you right next to me, I can keep a straight face and get the job done. I absolutely will not hold you back!"
There was no time to even comment on Tlander's enthusiasm for certain activities. Fischer then rummaged through the wardrobe and, in a rare move, produced a bottle of cologne. He dabbed a little on his wrists and a few other spots. That should just about cover everything.
It wasn't that he was being overly cautious — his instinct told him the Pink Pavilion was no simple establishment. On the surface it was merely an entertainment venue offering borderline services, but in reality its scale was enormous, and it had silently corrupted members of both political parties.
The contraband drugs they sold originated in Schwari. After the cold war with Schwari, importing those substances had become extremely difficult, yet the Pavilion still managed to procure them from elsewhere — proof enough of their reach. Now, combined with the fact that they were sheltering the Undying Witch, it didn't take much imagination to see that their motives were far from innocent. Caution was absolutely essential.
Fischer left behind his hat and walking stick. He tucked a few poker cards engraved with magic crests into his breast pocket, holstered a flintlock pistol at his waist, and then followed Tlander out the back door. Their destination: the Pink Pavilion.