Not (Just) A Mage Lord Isekai-Chapter 58 - No Knowledge Without Cost

Guardians of knowledge seemed to be a theme for Balthum. Or maybe just guardians in general. Between the bath-golems, the rope-cat and now the Keeper, it seemed he'd gone pretty heavy on magically created servants.

"And what sort of price do you demand for your knowledge?" I asked, suspecting that it wouldn't be as simple as asking politely.

"Knowledge in turn, of course," the Keeper replied, his skull turning back to me, bone white ivory flashing golden for a second in the reflected light from the mid day sun. "Books and songs of ancient or wondrous origin. Tales of torment or triumph. The greater the torment, the higher the fall, the better."

Given my origin, I suspected I'd have plenty I could offer him. Though I wasn’t totally comfortable revealing everything I remembered from Earth. It would also require me to finish building a spell to print things, if I didn’t want to spend hours narrating things.

“Certainly there are other acquisitions which would sate you," Calbern stated, his hand fixed on Bevel's shoulder even as she tried to squirm forward.

"While they are less… tasty, my ancient bones know how challenging the new and novel can be to acquire. Knowledge clutched too tightly is knowledge lost. Therefore, I also accept twisted artifacts, toys of the damned and…" the skull hesitated, clicking its tongue against the inside of its teeth several times before letting out a rattling sigh that shook the entire room. Then, finally with a great deal less vigor than it stated the rest, the Keeper added, "And for lesser knowledge, mana-rich materials."

"What qualifies as lesser knowledge?" I asked. Between all the monsters we'd killed along the way, not to mention the serpent's remains, mana-rich materials was something we had more than we knew what to do with at the moment. Which wouldn’t be the case if I had experts to refine them into proper components, but if he was willing to take unprocessed materials in trade… Well, the knowledge of the people who built this place would be worth a great deal more than a few decaying corpses.

"A sample to tantalize the thought buds," the Keeper said, one of his great hands reaching into the depths of his belly, which spun inward, like a maw of gnashing teeth. From that maw he drew out a book, thrusting it towards us with one massive clawed hand. The title was in Elinder, stating it was a treatise on Blooming Wilders. The Keeper pressed the book down into my extended hand, and I flipped it open.

There was a reference to its print date, but I had no idea when the third century of the Third Chorus was. It did make me think of the Bladesongs and their Final Refrain. A quick perusal of the first chapter let me know that the book was a breakdown of the esteemed magical discipline of Blooming Wilders. It seemed like some sort of Agricultural Druid. Almost like the Gardeners from the hundred Kingdoms, but with more focus on shapeshifting and ensuring the crops were good for everything, from water filtration to providing nests for the local birds to stabilizing mana currents.

"This is… interesting," I admitted after a few minutes, holding the book towards the Keeper, to the disapproving frown of Bevel, who'd been reaching for it.

"Ah, you may keep it," the Keeper said, its purple eyes flashing. "Consider it a token of good will."

"Are you… able to make copies of books, by any chance?" I asked, handing the book to Bevel, who immediately flipped it open. With her distracted, Calbern guided her out of the room.

"Such a thing is within my capabilities," the Keeper said, the bones of its neck grinding as it brought itself closer. "Though I cannot provide such services without being fed a fair price."

"I was actually wondering if you could teach me. There are books I've read that I've stored inside a spell… I've got some ideas but nothing that'll let me pump them out."

"Ah, you hunger to share knowledge," the Keeper replied, even as its skull shifted back towards the door. "Yet the morsels you seek are the most precious I hold. Recipes arcane can only be acquired with the most scrumptious of knowledge."

"And what is that?"

The Keeper's glowing eyes glinted before going so dark they seemed to swallow the evening light. "The great secrets of Ro'an."

"That seems a rather broad category," Calbern said from the entrance of the room.

"I do not hunger for the great buffet that is scattered amongst the tomes of distant kingdoms. No. The delicacy I desire are slips of green jade, upon which the very memories of the founders of Ro'an itself have been imprinted," the Keeper said. In front of it, an image flickered into existence of a thin green crystal the size of my pinky.

"That… seems like a pretty hefty price," I said, squinting at the image. I was pretty certain I'd seen a couple pieces of rubble that'd looked similar.

"It is in your own interest to bring them to me," Keeper rumbled, somehow sinking even further into the wall. "Not only will I gift you recipes arcane, but you will share in the feast, walking the memories alongside me."

"Ah, those do seem like amenable terms, do you not agree, master Perth?"

"Great terms," I nodded, my gaze shifting to the bookcases along the side of the small room. "What about these then? Are they part of your deal?"

"The previous… visitor found it useful to keep his own books here, as all knowledge kept in my presence is protected from the cruel teeth of time, even when not entrusted to my care," Keeper replied, the purple lights in its eyes growing dim. "Though know that if you follow in his gluttonous footsteps, I shall be forced to retract my offer."

"What, you don’t want us keeping books here?"

"The previous visitor attempted to feast upon my knowledge without a fair trade," Keeper said, the light of its eyes glistening brightly for a second as its obsidian tongue slid over its glistening teeth, the crimson sheen on its teeth seeming to grow darker for a moment. "While he survived the experience, he learned I am always left satisfied."

I couldn't help but let out a single chuckle at that, even as I stepped towards the nearest bookcase. I could see the wards, though they were simple things. Even Perth could've bypassed them. It would've been enough to keep most non-mages out though.

"What about these, are these worth anything to you?" I asked even as I dispelled the ward on the case.

"The morsels inside have already been sampled," Keeper replied. There was a faint click sound as it said the final word, and when I looked back towards it, I found it'd completely settled back into place, and its eyes had gone out.

"Keeper?" I asked, but there was no response. It seemed the Keeper had returned to its dormant state.

Calbern raised his shoulders in a near imperceptible shrug.

“Well, guess that’s that, for now,” I said as I turned my attention back to Balthum's collection. Keeper might’ve already gleaned everything he wanted from them, but I still needed to figure out a way to save Bevel’s sister and the rest of the girls-turned-golem.

The first book I pulled off the shelf seemed to be a collection of notes on his experiments.

Experiments on turning mundane humans into mages. Not precisely what I’d been looking for. At least, that’s what I thought at first.

The golems were part of his studies.

This had been where most of the 'missing' people had gone, even before he’d started his work with the golems. The villagers hadn't even been his main source. He'd bought thousands of people from the nearby clans.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Including Sarpit’s Frost Reavers.

Much as I despised what he’d done, I could at least admit Balthum had been thorough with both his experiments and his notes. In a way, it almost made it worse. There was no feeling, just cold analytical observations about the suffering he put his subjects through.

Tables indicating manasphere strength were recorded on the same page as the time it took for a subject to pass out from lack of air. Personal mana saturation levels were compared to how long a subject went without food, often leaving his subjects starving for weeks before swinging his experiments back the other direction. Known blood lines were charted out, then put under different stresses, each of them a torture in their own right.

And throughout it all, Balthum had simply noted it down.

Somehow, these records were even worse than those he’d kept in the room with the tanks.

It was both terrifying and daunting, just how much he'd recorded. There were indications he had a separate archive I hadn't discovered yet. These were simply his most promising leads. If not for his methods, it would’ve been wonderous.

Instead, I felt sick to my stomach, even as I forced myself to continue. Somewhere in here was the answer to what he’d done to the attendants.

As I looked through the shelf, pulling several books down, I was able to piece together his labeling system. Which allowed me to sort out the books that weren't crimes against humanity in table form.

One of which seemed to be a personal journal. Flipping to the last page, I hoped to get a clue as to what happened to him. What had killed a man who could survive being stabbed through the heart? Who meticulously plotted and charted the death of thousands.

Another successful test. I've put the newest attendant through a most rigorous set of tests. She is even more in tune with her body than the others. Despite her initial protests, my modifications have held perfectly.

I knew the Ventinium's golems would provide the path forward. That they take the form of the soul fed into them, no matter the material they imprint on, proves they are the correct choice.

In the morning, I shall-

The words ended in the middle of the sentence. Whatever Balthum had been planning, clearly he'd been interrupted.

Flipping back through a few of his previous entries, I was able to piece together that he had a disease that was eating away at his mana. Despite being Hydra-souled, he was barely stronger than a low Pegasus.

Still, that meant that whatever had offed him had been too much for a Pegasus-ensouled with over a century of experience.

There were more mentions of his experiments, and one note caught my eye in particular.

It seems that in my attempts to find a cure, I have stumbled upon the secret of awakening. To think how much I would've given to have had such knowledge a mere decade ago…

And yet, now it feels as ash on my tongue. She is gone, and no other is worthy of joining me. Certainly not the roperot who infest the village below, or the lost sheep of the vales.

Perhaps if I were willing to reveal my weakness, I could trade the knowledge. However, the Terra Vistans would have no use for it, and they are the only ones I would trust who have the skill to heal my injury. Those in the Kingdoms would merely use it as an opportunity to repay old slights, and Althon would kill me if he even suspected what I’ve done with my domain.

It is only now that she is gone that I start to reflect, to consider that perhaps I was wrong.

That power was not worth any price.

Much like the secret of awakening, the thought comes too late. Yet as death looms ever nearer, I find my list of regrets only grows. Still, I am not defeated yet. The golems… there is more to them.

While they have already proven useful, the savages do not appreciate the gift I’ve given them. Soon it shall be my turn for a body that never fails.

Did he attempt to turn himself into a golem? And, far more important, he figured out how to awaken people…

I flipped through the journal again, but it was the only time he mentioned it. The answer was locked away in his archives, I hoped. Without anything else immediately catching my eye, I used Review Scroll to add the entire bookcase to Memory Palace.

As I was working, Bevel came back in with the book Keeper offered me earlier. She didn't say anything, simply pulling at Calbern's and my hands to bring us out to the nook. Then she got him to help her read the book, though I wasn't allowed to leave either. I was conflicted. Obviously, she wanted me to stay, but I had so much that needed to be done. Still, since there were so many of Balthum's notes I wanted to read through anyway, I decided I could do both at once.

When she finished Keeper's gift, they moved on to another I'd thought was fiction, called Ivarus's Journey to the Sun.

This one, Calbern ended up mostly reading out loud.

It turned out it was based on an ensouled, though not a wizard. He'd been a powerful fire sorcerer. And he'd never left the continent, nevermind, journeyed to the sun. Did make hefty fireballs though. Halfway through, in a passage about his exploration of a ruined city, they stumbled across a stunning revelation.

"It makes golems?" Bevel asked, drawing my attention as she squinted at the picture on the page.

"It can inscribe them, giving them life," I corrected, looking at the device. It looked similar to one of those fancy coffins that Egyptians were always burying their cursed mummies in, complete with the fancy pictures. I chuckled to myself when I realized I knew the word for them in Elinder but not in English. Establium. The stable resting place of the honored. As I struggled to remember the English word, squinting at the picture as if that’d magically make it click, I realized I'd seen a similar picture in Balthum's journal.

"A marvelous feat of runework, if true, wouldn't you say, lady Bevel?" Calbern asked as I flipped through the journal.

Before Bevel could respond, I slapped the journal down beside their book.

"Hey, that's the same box!" Bevel exclaimed, grabbing Calbern’s arm and pointing at the journal.

“So it is,” Calbern agreed, inclining his head slightly.

"Definitely looks like it," I said. Both picture seemed to be the same device, though drawn from different angles.

"Is that what made Keira all scribbly?" Bevel asked, wiggling her fingers in front of her.

"Could be."

"A most reasonable inference, lady Bevel," Calbern said, nodding seriously. "And if so, it may be key to healing her."

"True 'nuff," I said as I flipped through the journal again.

Further reading of the relevant pages revealed that the runes that animated the golems were, much to his apparent displeasure, not Balthum’s work. He'd found the coffin in another facility where he took his victims to complete the inscribing process. I wasn't able to figure out where it was, as his notes only alluded to it. Mostly while he complained about the lack of an ingrained control circuit. He did include the supposed name of the facility though.

Same name as what it was called in Ivarus's Journey to the Sun.

It was rather grandiosely named the Golden Halls of Ascension.

Made me suspect that maybe making golems wasn’t the primary purpose. Ivarus’s Journey kinda hinted at that fact too.

“S’not in Tetherfall,” Bevel said as she read the note for herself. “Though I think I mighta heard him blabbing about the scribbly box.”

“I’ll make sure to ask Selvi and Tanis,” I said, even as I wrote down my thoughts in my own journal.

Bevel nodded, her eyes fixed to the page once more, pulling at Calbern to help her continue the story. “Maybe it’s in here.”

It was not in her book. Nor did I find the location in any of his other notes. It had given me a better indication of where I should be looking to help the attendants though.

By the time we'd finished, it was nearly dinner time.

We descended past the rope-cat without incident. It gave us lots of side-eye, but we left it alone, and it left us alone in turn.

We didn’t eat above the village, as had become my habit, choosing to join Tresla near the fire cradle where she was still serving the remains of her feast.

Despite having spent the day in the nook together, Bevel still wanted me to read Gillian to her. To my surprise, when it came time, I found myself with a bit of an audience. Bevel hadn’t been able to contain her enthusiasm, and had invited everyone we passed to join us. Tanis had confirmed his attendance with a booming laugh, and Selvi had insisted that the first reading of the Magus Dominus was a historic event for the village.

Inertia had even taken time away from restoring Fang to listen in, and that meant Tresla was there too, though I suspected she’d have joined in anyway.

“Uh…” I said, swallowing air as I looked around at everyone. Most of them weren’t really watching me, other than Bevel and Calbern. Didn’t stop my stomach from doing belly flops. Clearing my throat, I jumped right in, “When reaching for the heavens, it behooves one not to lose sight of the ground. For it is upon the ground where most dangers dwell, at least for those who walk upon the earth. Such a lesson was the first that had to be taught to the young dreamer Gillian.”

“And it would be a rock that taught him this lesson, alongside a most bubbly babbling brook.”

After I started, I got lost in telling the story, only watching Bevel. Her excited face when I used small bursts of magic for special effects made the extra effort worth it. Before I knew it, we’d gone through the first two chapters. I’d only made it that far with two full mugs of water to keep my throat from drying up. I wasn’t used to speaking so much.

Everyone was still gathered around the end of the fire cradle when I finished. There’d been a couple laughs, mostly from Tanis, who’d also spoken along for a couple lines. It seemed Perth wasn’t the only one who’d enjoyed the books.

I was getting close to the end of the third chapter, my voice only holding on thanks to several generous applications of Minor Heal, when a crackling boom sounded out.

Calbern and I both looked up, but the locals barely seemed to notice.

They did notice our sudden worry though.

A smile crept its way onto Selvi's still scarred face. "Not used to storms, Magus?"

Another thundering boom echoed through the chasm as lightning broke overhead. Seconds later, a wave of mana rolled over me, thicker than I'd ever felt before.

Above the storm raged, the wind howling, lightning flashing and rain falling.

As it fell down on us, dousing the remnants of Tresla's fire and soaking me to the bone, I couldn't help but smile.

Seemed I'd found my mana font after all.

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