The Adventurer's Mission Log

Chapter 24 Michael

"Michael! You can talk now? Are you feeling better lately? Don't worry, I'll handle this, just like before..." Simon was agitated and completely lost his composure as he strode quickly toward the tunnel.

"Stop! Don't come any closer! Don't come any closer!" Michael's voice was laced with an uncontrollable beastly roar.

As the sharp claws lashed out at Simon, Tenor pulled him back in time.

In the blink of an eye, pebbles flew everywhere, and the rocks touched by the claws shattered like toys.

Many rocks fell from above, but fortunately the tunnel did not collapse as a result.

With his limited night vision, Tenor sketched out a monster with an eagle's head and an ape's body, curled up at the end of the tunnel.

It was covered in black fur, and its huge body filled up the space it occupied, getting stuck there.

Its nearly half-meter-long claws are ferocious and can be swung.

It can be seen that the space in front of it that allows it to move around was dug out by it.

"Okay...I'll help you." Simon's voice was filled with sorrow. He swallowed his grief and guided him in a hymn-like tone, "Michael, stay focused. Can you calm down?"

There must be magic in those words, because Tenor felt an unusual drowsiness as he listened.

The monster stopped struggling wildly. It breathed heavily for a while, then its body shrank rapidly, turning into a naked man who looked like Simon.

Simon emitted a burst of white light from his fingertips, illuminating the darkness, and led Tenor slowly closer to the man.

Tenor was fully focused, ready to transform at any moment to help Simon control the out-of-control half-human—but he wasn't confident.

That monster must be a high-level being, an "expert" level half-human professional, with the strength of a giant. How could he possibly control it?

If the target goes berserk, they'll both be doomed here.

If he abandons his teammates, Tenor might survive thanks to his tenacious will to live, but he doesn't intend to do so unless Simon takes the initiative to cover the rear.

He cannot cross the line.

Simon's incantation never stopped, and the chanting echoed, bringing a sense of tranquility to the realm.

"...We mourn for those warriors, whether their talent was stolen or earned..."

...They were full of hope, pursuing their dreams relentlessly, unaware that they were born in darkness....

Tenor recognized it as the "Crow Song" from the Church of Mor, which often appeared at funerals.

Simon walked over to the man and hugged him.

Michael looked exhausted, panting heavily, and opened his eyes, revealing a pair of beastly pupils.

His body hair grew unnaturally thick, and his hands had almost turned into half an eagle's claw. Tenor could clearly see his true nature—he still had the outline of a human on the outside, but he was no longer human on the inside.

"Is he a new friend?" Michael asked in his hoarse voice, trying to be as gentle as possible.

"He is Tenor, a wild half-man. Thanks to him, we were able to get here from Laghettia." Simon forced a smile, every expression trying to reassure Michael.

"They're here for the sublimation reagent, aren't they?" Michael saw through it at a glance, but didn't care.

He smiled shyly at Tenor, his tone becoming more natural, "The people of Sirhani call me 'The Fearless' Basel, I am the personal guard of Da Mamur Adnan."

I have killed many beasts and enemies, and the people of Quyaz regard me as a hero.

But you should know now, Michael is my real name. A complex and unfathomable emotion flickered in Michael's eyes.

Quyaz is located at the western end of the Silhani Peninsula, facing the western port city of Ortizia across the sea. Like Husen Falk at the eastern end, they are both major border trading cities.

"Yes, Simon said I sympathize with what you have gone through," Tenor replied in the same soft voice as Michael, setting aside his weapons and shield and sitting on the ground.

Michael opened up and continued his gentle narration, "Da Mamur used to trust me a lot."

After all: a slave, if you let him attend a banquet, he will be grateful to tears, thinking it's a great favor; if you let him feed the horses, he will do it dutifully, because it's his duty.

Tenor vaguely realized the reason for Michael's defection. "So you ran away?"

Michael shook his head, looking enviously into Tenor's eyes as if he saw the freedom in him. "Friend, I was sold to the palace for training when I was six, and I was the most successful of my companions."

I have witnessed firsthand how those who refused to obey discipline were castrated and had their tongues cut out.

Many people have forgotten the training content from earlier years, but I remember it, just as I always remember the faces of my brother and mother, I have never forgotten it.

We are not allowed to speak our mother tongue, many people have forgotten the language of their hometown, and their faith has become nothing more than a vague nightmare.

How much can a child remember? Everyone grew up in Sirhani and was trained in the palace in Mamur.

We had to live within the military district, and from the age of six until adulthood, I was taught to absolutely obey the leadership of my superiors.

My companions are my brothers, and Mamur is my father—that's what everyone thinks.

Doing well will be richly rewarded, while disobeying orders will be severely punished. Mamur's orders are more valuable than my life.

I must love, respect, and support him, because he is the one who gave me everything.” Mai spoke with complex emotions, but there was no hatred in his eyes, because Mamour truly had given him everything.

There was no love either, because he later realized that Mamur had taken everything from him.

Tenor was horrified to hear this—a group of children, who would not resist, full of potential, with blank minds, yet trained to be half-human warriors completely dependent on their lord.

Their lives depended on Mamur's generosity, their status was closely tied to Mamur, and their promotions required Mamur to provide them with the necessary resources.

They were suicide squad members, mere tools.

"So, what made you decide to defect? ​​If it were me, having received this kind of education since childhood, I probably wouldn't have thought of escaping 'home' when I grew up." Tenor couldn't help but ask a potentially offensive question.

Michael didn't seem offended at all. On the contrary, he acted like a child in front of Simon, listening intently to his brother's requiem with a serene and content smile on his face.

It felt like I had returned to the past, when my mother and brother were both by my side.

"...Kuyaz is very close to Ortizia, and imperial caravans often come to the city. For the first four years, I could only contact the Silhani people in the military camp."

Once I learned their language and etiquette, became loyal to their beliefs, and passed the tests, I was awarded weapons and a fine military uniform.

At the age of twenty, I completed my third ascension ceremony, receiving the rank of lieutenant at my graduation ceremony and becoming the commander of Mamur.

I can move freely in the city, and everyone respects me. Whenever I finish a task, I go to the market to hear what I've seen and heard from the outside world.

Upon hearing this, Simon looked dazed. "You used to be like that too." His words made Michael chuckle.

When Simon discovered that Michael was showing signs of re-mutating, he had no choice but to continue using the requiem spell.

"What did you hear? What made you decide to flee back to the Empire?" Tenor's gaze fell on Simon, already having a guess.

Sure enough, Mai could recount the reason with great emotion: "I heard that a witch hunter captured a griffin and presented it to the governor of Ortizia."

Griffins are not easy to catch. I wanted to know his story. The merchant brought his name and a portrait of the governor riding a griffin. He was in the painting.

"I thought he was dead..." Michael pursed his lips, his eyes reddening. "When I found out he still had family, I escaped with Fadi, Os, and Abbas."

But Mamur wouldn't let me go because I was deeply trusted by him and was his personal guard... I knew many secrets that couldn't be told.

"My friends died in the pursuit while covering me... Each one of them died as noblely as an ancient hero, but they shouldn't have died..." Michael almost choked up, filled with guilt and regret.

Tenor's heart skipped a beat. "I heard that when you defected, you took the reagent formula and a core material with you?"

"I'm sorry, the clues you found out are wrong," Michael explained calmly. "During my escape, I only had myself in my luggage; I didn't bring any other belongings."

But I know the recipes for 'special potions' for ranks below the eighth, as well as the corresponding ascension rituals.

When I advanced to the eighth rank, Mamur bestowed upon me the "Universal Potion," which enabled me to complete my transformation.

The eighth-order ritual he gave might have been problematic; after leaving Sylhani... I couldn't maintain my sanity...

I don't want you to end up like me; that flawed ritual should not be spread.

If you want to learn the formula for the sublimation reagent from me... you'd better keep your mouth shut and don't let anyone else know that you have forbidden knowledge in your head, otherwise my former "comrades" will try to smash your brain.

"Special potion? General potion? And what is the sublimation ritual? Isn't it just about drinking the potion?" Tenor seemed to have discovered the secret of the sublimation reagent.

Michael was startled by Tenor's words and almost lost control of his alienation. His body twisted for a moment, but he managed to regain his composure as Simon raised the volume of his prayers.

"Did you skip the ascension ritual and drink the potion directly?"

Tenor realized that the sublimation reagent wasn't meant to be drunk like that, and that Reginald's knowledge might also be flawed. The reason for the high mortality rate of half-human advancement outside seemed to be... the lack of a "sublimation ritual"?

"Yes...is there a problem?"

"This is a big problem." Michael gasped, then looked Tenor over again before seeming to understand. "What rank are you?"

"Third rank." Tenor's words caused Simon's expression to change drastically, and he forgot to continue his incantation. "You're not a fifth rank?" He hadn't expected Tenor to be so low-ranked, but Tenor's performance along the way had clearly been close to that of a fifth rank.

"You didn't ask me," Tenor said, looking rather innocent.