Published at 26th of June 2021 2:00 pm

Chapter 120: The Dragon’s Heart (1)

This chapter is updated by NovelFree.ml

“What do you mean, the dragon’s heart?” Ian asked as he landed gently on the ground. The question was for all the five artisans who had gathered on the island.

“This is the first time we’ve experienced something like this…”

Just then, Berthold, the oldest of the artisans, stepped forward. He took the heart and turned it around in his hands .

“Mmmmm…” he murmured.

The other artisans did the same, looking at the heart carefully in their own way, perhaps because it was an object they had only heard of. They were all cautious as if holding a newborn.

“It’s really the heart. Don’t you think so?”

“Mmmmhmmmm. Although we can’t be sure.”

“Look at this. It holds the power of mana on its own.”

The artisans seemed to be looking at the heart forever. They each gave their opinion, and the majority of them commented it was phenomenal and shocking. All except one.

“Step aside, all of you. Let me try something.” She requested.

Halia, the head artisan, was a step away from the circle of artisans looking at the heart. Before anyone noticed, she had reappeared with her prized possession - a sword.

“Halia, what are you trying to do…?”

“I need to check something.”

“Check what?”

Halia didn’t respond. Instead, she lifted her sword over her head.

“If it really is the dragon heart…” She brought her sword down on the dragon’s heart with full strength. “… this wouldn’t be a problem!” It was a silly but fair reason. Halia’s sword rang with a loud KANG! and bounced off the heart, which was surprising but an expected result. The sword hadn’t even left a mark on the heart.

“Uggh!” Halia stumbled back at the aftereffect. She wasn’t concerned about the heart at all and looked at her sword carefully.

“Perfect.” She said and nodded as if she were satisfied. No wonder. Halia’s sword was her masterpiece.

“Well, that’s the dragon’s heart alright.”

“What makes you so sure?” Berthold asked.

“My sword didn’t even make a scratch on it.”

“Mmmm…”

“If we were to talk about the density, it’s higher than that of adamant.”

Adamant. It was the type of mineral any artisan dreamed of working on. It was often called the ‘perfect mineral of no crevice’. According to Halia, the heart was denser than adamant.

“I can break adamant with this sword you know.” Halia said proudly, and everyone’s attention turned to the sword. A sword that could break adamant?

“What a treasure you’ve made there.” Berthold complimented.

“This is nothing.” Halia replied with a snort.

Just then, the jeweler Dennis spoke up. “The heck with density,” he murmured. He had been stroking the heart in his hands for a while now. He was clearly impressed.

“You’re all missing the point here.”

The artisans all frowned at his words. Were they all not at their zenith of their skills as artisans? But he was saying they were all missing the point now.

“What are you talking about?” Berthold asked, sensing the atmosphere immediately and took the initiative to ask Dennis to ease the tension.

“Look at this, if you’ve got eyes.”

“Well… all of us have been looking at it all this time.”

“Can’t you sense it’s physical beauty?”

“Well clearly, it holds mana…”

“No, no no. Not the useless stuff like that.”

“Then…”

“I’m talking about its shape - exactly the way you see it.”

“Hmm… I’m not sure.”

The object, which was guessed to be the dragon’s heart, was in shape of a large sphere. It was capable of creating and saving mana on its own. It was even perfectly black, without the slightest mark. It was most definitely a great and godly object. However, there wasn’t anything else to see.

“I’m not sure…”

“Look at how black it is!”

“Black?”

“It doesn’t even glitter!”

Berthold, who had been listening intently, grew silent. Halia and Zerbio also shook their heads. Cleven was the only one who blinked in confusion.

“Look at how perfectly black the heart is and doesn’t even glitter!” The jeweler Dennis exclaimed. He had a preference for dense minerals.

“Would it be even possible to carve with this?”

The artisans continued to examine the heart. First Cleven took a hammer and chisel and started pounding the heart. Of course, there was no possibility of the heart being used for carving. After all, wasn’t it denser than adamant? Not only be difficult to carve, but difficult to manufacture.

“Unless it was made of wood…” the carpenter Zerbio shook his head doubtfully. In his eyes, the heart was simply a black substance. He had no idea where it could be used. All he knew was that it would never be used for woodwork.

“What do you think?” Zerbio asked Berthold.

“I’m thinking the same thing.”

Berthold was only a seamstress. He was clueless unless it came to a thread, needle, and cloth. It was his first time seeing a dragon heart.

“I haven’t the slightest clue.”

They were aware the object created mana. They even understood mana accumulated within the heart. They had also found out that it was sturdier than adamant. It was a tremendous object for sure, but the issue was its ‘efficacy’, as it was large and heavy.

“Here’s what I think…” Berthold slowly spoke up, “I think we need the help of that fellow.” Apparently, he was referring to someone among the three artisans who had not arrived yet.

“He can definitely help us…”

“He’s not an artisan! He’s just a mechanic!” Dennis protested.

“Are you talking about Siram?” the others asked.

“Did you say Siram?” Cleven asked. It was a name familiar to Ian as well.

“Huh? Ah, yes! Siram. Mr. Siram.”

Mr. Siram. The master of the greatest technical workshop in all of Greenriver. The ‘Siram Workshop’ was where Ian had bought his communication orb. Wasn’t the owner’s name ‘Siram’?

‘Now that I think of it…’ Ian remembered the first impression he’d had of Siram.

He was a dark-haired man, just like these artisans of Knocking Island, which was not common in Greenriver.

‘I’m positive he used to age in my past life.’

Not the present life, but the past life. The Siram he remembered from then aged with time. An immortal man aging?

‘I suppose he could have disguised himself.’

It wasn’t necessary to leave his mind dwelling on it. After all, they were all magicians in a way. Wouldn’t they have various ways to appear however they wanted?

“And… what exactly does Siram do…?”

“That fellow is a little different from the rest of us.” Berthold answered.

“He isn’t limited to one field. We used to call him an inventor.”

“He is not an inventor for crying out loud! He’s a mechanic! A mechanic!” Halia shouted.

Berthold ignored her What he said next clarified Ian’s suspicions.

“Although… he did want to be called a technician.”

“A technician?”

“Why yes. A mage technician.”

The mage technician Siram. Ian was positive about who he could be. Then, Ian spoke up, confident. “I happen to know-”

Just then, a small portal opened in the middle of the temple of Knocking Island, where all the masterpieces of the artisans were gathered.

VRRRRROOOOM

Everyone realized where the sound was coming from, thanks to its loud noise. Ian looked on warily, but the artisans didn’t look bothered at all.

“Oooh.” They said as if this was a usual sight. After all, they had arrived on this island the same way, except for Ian and Cleven.

“Who is it?”

“Ah, looks like you wouldn’t know.” Berthold took a small book out of his pockets, an artifact that each of the artisans shared. It was the Book of Portals, something that Ian was familiar with as well.

“We are always able to return to this island.”

“But Cleven…”

“…seems to have lost it.”

Cleven hadn’t had the artifact with him. It was clear that he had lost it in the years of wandering. Just then, a figure appeared from the portal.

“I just thought I’d come by,” he said and nodded in their direction. It seemed that he was seeing what he had been expecting.

“It’s really you.”

Ian had guessed right. He was ‘Siram’, the master of the ‘Siram Workshop’, now one of the eight artisans known as a technician and inventor.

* * *

“No wonder I’ve been hearing a rumor about a dragon recently,” Siram mumbled without even greeting the artisans. He had come simply to ‘check in’ because he had heard the rumors of the white dragon the artisans had just met. Even at that point, he hadn’t been concerned about returning, as he no longer wished for his life to be in danger.

“Now it’s the dragon soldiers running rampant. They’ve been quiet for centuries - what’s with the chaos now?”

The problem was that his haven, Greenriverdium was affected by the dragon and the artisans were somewhat aware of this.

“Master of the Ivory Tower, I guessed you would be the descendant of the great Fran. I just wasn’t sure. With the surname ‘Page’, although it is quite common, magical abilities that surpass any human being, and the hair - you resemble him perfectly. If you were a little less attractive…”

It was the reason Siram had not entered through the portal immediately. It was a simple yet interesting reason of his.

“Not that I would have cared. I wouldn’t have returned to the island either. I’ve found something fun to do. It would be a waste for me to simply die. One thousand years is a little early for me. “

“Did you find something interesting in your life?” Berthold asked, looking curious.

“It’s a little funny to put it this way, but… hm… the fun of developing human civilization with my own hands? Little by little, just so I wouldn’t blow my cover. Do you get what I mean?”

The ‘fun’ Siram had found with his life was developing the human civilization. Little by little, not all of a sudden.

“I just release things out into the world like it’s some new invention. If I get too ahead of myself, that just messes things up. I keep my head low when I release these new inventions, like the time I pretended to tremble in front of the Ivory Tower master here.”

“My apologies about that.”

Ian remembered his encounter with Siram, how he had been shocked to find that Siram was actually a high class mage. Little did he know that had all been an act. It was already seven years ago. Time had gone by quickly.

“That was all possible because it’s you. The rest of us are sewing, hammering, and sawing nonstop.” Berthold, the seamstress, muttered.

“You’re wrong. Aren’t you the greatest artisans of all time? Nothing would be impossible for you. Do not limit yourselves.” Siram comforted Berthold with sweet words.

“He’s right,” Hilia agreed. “How about I join an army. I could change all of their weapons and armory. I could fulfill the wishes of every king - uniting nations into continents. Wouldn’t that be a breeze?”

“Maybe I could do something with my business…” Zerbio murmured.

“Are you still going on about your business? I’m not even surprised.”

“Stop lecturing me - I already got scolded by Berthold about that.”

It seemed the carpenter Zerbio was the verbal punching bag among the artisans. He had already heard some stinging words from Berthold, and now Siram was on him. His large physical features didn’t do him any good. What a waste.

‘They have a lot to say to each other.’ Ian noted. He waited patiently, figuring they all wanted to catch up after all this time. After a while, they finally got to the bottom of the issue.

“So… is this really the dragon’s heart?”

“We think so.”

After the others had filled him in, Siram got closer to the dragon’s heart - the ball of black material. The way he examined the heart was different from the others.

“Let’s see here.” Siram muttered, taking out a strange object. It was a cylinder object with a ball on the end. Once mana was injected into the ball, it exploded with light, exploding in a straight direction.

“Oho…”

Siram shone the light on the heart. They all exclaimed quietly.

“This is… something…” Everyone’s attention was on Siram.

“It’s like… the fruit of mage engineering.”

That was unexpected. Everyone looked at one another suspiciously and each stated:

“The fruit of mage engineering?”

“What are you on about?”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t get it. Explain it to us clearly.”

Ian was the only one who kept his silence. He had almost lost his cool and exploded with questions.

“There are veins of mana flowing from the surface to the core of the heart. It’s more of a technically structured object than an organ. The dragon’s heart was a mage object? Could it mean it was man-made?

“Are you sure?” Berthold the seamstress asked.

“Positive.” Siram answered confidently without the slightest hesitance.

“Although…” He continued, “I can’t say for sure whether it’s made by humans.”

“What does that mean?”

“I mean what I said. Even I can’t create things like this. Doesn’t this have infinite power? I’m sure you all have your weaknesses as artisans. Infinite power is our ideal form of power we technicians long for.”

Infinite power was different from having an infinite amount of mana with the robe Berthold had made. Having an infinite amount of mana simply meant it had the power to protect and change the heart of mana within Ian. It was the same with the other artifacts. But the dragon’s heart was different.

“It’s a product of recreation.”

It was an organ that was deep within the heart. The core of wonder that only a few are born with. Someone had copied the original ‘mana heart’. It was a completely different object to the core.

“No wonder…” The other artisans looked serious. They no longer talked of the density or aphotic state of the heart. They knew how recreation was a different matter from preserving and changing an object.

“Who is the owner of the heart? Is it you all? Or does it belong to the Master of the Ivory Tower, the descendant of Fran?”

Everyone looked at Ian. The message was clear : the heart belonged to Ian.

“Master of the Ivory Tower, I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Sure.”

“Leave the heart to me.”

It was a request that Ian had been expecting, and he had an answer prepared.

“Under three conditions.”

“I shall do as you ask.”

“First, I need the approval of the other artisans.”

Siram looked at the others. No one objected. Dennis the jeweler and Halia the blacksmith seemed to look disappointed, but didn’t say anything.

“The second conditions would be results. I won’t put any limitations on this. Whether it’s direct or indirect, I request that this needs to end in my benefit. Do you understand?”

“Of course.”

Ian didn’t have the skills to control the heart. He had already been planning on leaving the heart in the hands of the artisans. He did, however, need to cross a line in this deal, and this was his second condition.

“And for the last request…” Ian turned his head to look inside the temple. All the masterpieces of the artisans were still being preserved. Ian looked at the three remaining statues.

“I want your masterpiece that’s in the temple, Siram.”

The seamstress Berthold’s robe. The carpenter Zerbio’s cane. The jewler Dennis’ earrings. The blacksmith Halia’s sword. The tools of Cleven. And Siram’s next masterpiece. That was the final request.

“Not a difficult request at all. After all, I was going to present it to Fran - I might as well hand it to his descendant.”

Siram approached the dragon statue and injected mana into it. The masterwork grew into its complete form.

“Here you go.”

Re-Edited by FlawFinder. Yes, I underlined “cane” because I didn’t remember if it was supposed to be staff.

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