One-Eyed Monster

While Igor and Kadi were listening to another story from Guzan in the Stone House, a significant event was unfolding at the foot of Guru Mountain. This event was worthy of being recorded in the Local Chronicle of Gaga County.

The once-bustling taverns at the foot of Guru Mountain were now eerily silent. The Treasure Hunters, who should have been drinking themselves into oblivion, had instead flocked to the road outside.

These Treasure Hunters kept slapping their own faces; a continuous SLAP! SLAP! echoed along both sides of the road. They looked as if they had lost their minds, repeatedly striking their cheeks. Those who understood could see at a glance that these Treasure Hunters were desperately trying to stay awake. Their reasons were straightforward: some were attempting to sober up, while others were trying to determine if they were caught in a dream.

They resorted to this because the scene before them was simply too bizarre!

Two prison carts of moderate size were moving down the road, which was lined with various taverns and general stores.

Each prison cart confined a large figure. One, though bound tightly with ropes, appeared relatively normal and didn’t cause widespread panic. The other figure, however, was entirely different: it had a rabbit’s face, long ears, protruding front teeth, and a stout, round body... it looked exactly like a rabbit!

”Is this a monster?” someone in the crowd muttered in panic.

”From Guru Mountain, it must be a monster!”

”A monster! Wow, after all this time at Guru Mountain, I finally get to see one of the legendary monsters!”

The crowd erupted in chatter, the appearance of the ’monster’ sowing panic among them.

The ones in the Incarceration Cages were none other than Dastan and Baharo.

Dastan was the guardian of Guru Mountain’s Dawn Peak. He had previously been engaged in a fierce battle with members of the Alchemy Workshop on the mountain. Now, he was confined in an Incarceration Cage. The outcome of the struggle was self-evident: the Alchemy Workshop had ultimately triumphed.

As for Baharo, why he was imprisoned is another story altogether—a story that can be summed up in a single word: unlucky.

Baharo was panting heavily, unable to tell if it was day or night. Water. He desperately needed water. However, confined in the Incarceration Cage, he no longer had the luxury of making such a request. He didn’t understand why he had been caged, nor could he comprehend how events had led to this.

Baharo recalled how, while watching from the sidelines earlier, he had thought the outcome was already decided. The Alchemy Workshop was no match for that ancient Hunter. Both the Flame War Pet and the Sharkmon had pushed the Alchemy Workshop into a desperate situation. Not to mention the ’monster’ beside them, who could Bomb Jump and dig tunnels… But who could have expected things to take such an unexpected turn? And the key to this turn of events, who would have thought, was a tiny porcelain bottle.

Axia, a member of the Alchemy Workshop, was now walking down this road. He was assisting Hector of the Golden Seats in escorting the captured ’monsters’ back. Axia felt extremely proud. Part of this pride stemmed from his current status as a member of the Alchemy Workshop, something he could boast about everywhere. However, a larger part of his pride came from his recent actions. Based on what I did, he thought, I definitely have a chance to shed my status as an Alchemy Servant. I might even be promoted to an alchemy apprentice!

I, Axia, was the key to Lord Joela and the others turning the tables! he mused. No one can steal this credit from me. If it weren’t for the porcelain bottle I had, how could Lord Joela possibly have withstood that monster’s attack...

Thinking about this, a smirk crept onto Axia’s face.

The two prison carts moved slowly under the astonished gaze of the onlookers. Members of the Dark Organization, Black Mountain, flanked the carts, front and back. Authorized by the head of Gaga County, they were temporarily serving as members of the Court of Guards. Their duty was to clear the way and maintain order, which essentially meant shoving aside anyone foolish enough to block the road and then prompting the astonished, gaping onlookers to slowly close their mouths.

Near the prison carts walked Axia and Musa. These two had ascended the mountain together and were now descending together. The only regret was that their small team had four members when they went up, but only two were coming down.

Regardless, Axia was happy. He was once again the leader of the small team and no longer had to put up with that witch. As for where that witch and the young man had gone, he couldn’t care less.

”They’re calling for you, buddy!” Despite his raging thirst, Baharo was as comically cheerful as ever, joking with Dastan in the other prison cart moving parallel to his.

”They’re also calling for you,” Dastan replied, his face expressionless, his demeanor like that of a warrior resigned to his fate, even though neither of them had any idea where these prison carts were taking them.

”HEH HEH HEH, it’s an honor to be known as a monster,” Baharo forced a smile, despite his severe injuries.

”It’s also been an impressive experience to stand shoulder to shoulder with you,” Dastan responded to Baharo’s smile.

”No, it is I who am deeply honored to have, for once, marched alongside one of the Empire’s Glorious Seven Knights,” Baharo said, his eyes filled with awe.

”I’m just a monster, not one of the Glorious Seven Knights. That title has long been retired,” Dastan said lightly, twitching his long, pointed ears.

”No, you are…” Baharo started to say more, but a look from Hector, who was walking near the prison carts, silenced him. This Golden Seat of the Alchemy Workshop paced between the two carts, his gaze strange and filled with majesty.

”Glorious or not, you’re still prisoners! Don’t whisper in front of Lord Hector and disturb him while he’s concentrating his Spirit Power!” Axia, noticing Hector’s gaze, immediately adopted a fawning, unpleasant expression.

The victors are kings, and the vanquished are outlaws. This was an immutable truth that both Baharo and Dastan understood. They wouldn’t engage in a war of words with this servant standing beside the Golden Seat of the Alchemy Workshop, not at this moment. It wasn’t worth it, nor was it meaningful.

Hector shook his head. He actually wanted to join Baharo and Dastan’s conversation, but his injuries were too severe for him to speak. He sighed and closed his eyes. Every time he did, he relived the terror he had experienced on the mountain.

”Monster! Monster!” From time to time, individuals in the crowd would lose control, screaming aloud, their faces etched with fear. Hector watched, lost in thought.

Are monsters really that terrible?

If they truly are that terrible, then what kind of beings are those who create monsters?

Dastan, this ’monster’ before me, was once one of the Empire’s Glorious Seven Knights. And now these ignorant people call him a monster.

If Dastan is a monster, then what are we, Alchemists? We aren’t any different from Dastan. The only distinction is appearance.

Yet, isn’t Dastan’s current appearance the handiwork of our Alchemy Workshop?

If Dastan is a monster, then what does that make us in the Alchemy Workshop?

Are we also monsters?