The Mighty Dragons Are Dead

Chapter 142: Eye of Truth and Exploring the World

“Who are you looking for?”

The wooden door of the small building opened, and a teenager dressed in black with hair like a bird’s nest and deep-set eyes poked his head out. He looked at the group of people in front of him, plus a huge dog, and asked cautiously.

“Does Mr. Grandini live here?” Thomas stepped forward, maintaining proper etiquette, and asked gently, “Our master, the son of Coral Island’s Count and the Baron of Fresh Flower Town, Liszt Tulip, wishes to meet with him to inquire about some matters of magic.”

“Ah, wait a moment.”

The youth was startled for a second, then shut the door abruptly.

After a moment, the door swung open entirely, and the emaciated, shriveled figure of the youth appeared: “The teacher invites the Baron inside; the others, please wait outside.”

Liszt nodded, “You all stay outside.”

“Sir…” Rom wanted to say something.

Liszt gestured to him, on Coral Island, even the secretive magicians had to give face to the Tulip Family.

Entering the small building, a strange smell drilled into his nostrils, not a stench of life, but more like the odor emitted from some chemical substances.

This made him frown involuntarily.

The room was quite gloomy, with various cluttered “equipment” visible, some metallic vessels, others made of jade and crystal. There were numerous bottles and jars, and even a wax candle burning in an iron kettle, within which a green liquid was boiling—the strange smell was probably emanating from there.

The room was incredibly messy, even the pathways were barely wide enough to walk.

“The teacher is upstairs, he is waiting for you.” The youth seemed somewhat dull, and while he looked at Liszt with the nervousness of meeting a stranger, he lacked the fear and reverence for nobility.

Perhaps following a magician for too long had caused him to lose his awe of nobility—a significant reason magicians were unpopular: this group of individuals who believed in “knowledge” dismissed the authority of nobility, convinced that knowledge was the only truth in the world, not the brute force revered by the nobles.

The stairs creaked and groaned, but as they ascended, the light grew brighter.

Then Liszt saw the magician, Grandini Truth—a man with a hooked nose, blue eyes, and brown hair, around forty years old, his figure shrouded in a large cloak.

He was sitting in a chair, engrossed in a book.

Upon seeing Liszt, he closed the book and placed it amidst the clutter on his desk. Liszt had a keen eye and saw that the cover read “Alchemical Speculations on Iron—Dedicated to His Excellency Grand Magician Dembaba Truth,” with a drawing beneath it.

It was a triangle with an eye inside.

“Baron Liszt, compared to your brother, Viscount Levis, you more closely resemble a graceful nobleman,” Grandini stood, taller than Liszt, his frame just as thin beneath his cloak. His voice was hoarse, as if he hadn’t spoken in a long time.

“Mr. Grandini, you have met my brother?”

“Of course, I have had a few collaborations with Viscount Levis. Please make yourself comfortable; I don’t stand on ceremony here with the pretentious niceties of nobility.”

Liszt found a relatively clean stool: “Noble etiquette isn’t pretense; it’s cultivation.”

Grandini mocked, “Cultivation—is it about learning how to cannibalize others more elegantly?”

“If that’s how you must understand it, it’s not wrong.” Liszt felt some resentment towards Grandini’s attitude, having grown accustomed to the reverence that came with nobility, but he had to admit there was some truth in the other’s words—the world was indeed dog eat dog, “Your surroundings here aren’t very pleasant.”

“Of course, it can’t be compared with a castle; I am but a humble magician, with all my energy and resources dedicated to exploring the truth of the world.”

Exploring the truth of the world, that’s the rallying cry of magicians.

All magicians discard their worldly surnames and uniformly adopt the surname “Truth.” As for that triangle and eye on the book, it’s called the Eye of Truth. The magicians discovered that the triangle is the most stable form of deconstruction and that the world is also composed of triangles—matter, spirit, and magic power.

And they are the eye within the triangle, endlessly exploring every truth.

“May I ask how to cast a spell?”

“There is no difference between magic and Dou Qi. As a knight, why care about magic or Dou Qi? They are both ways of harnessing magic power.”

“Alright, let’s change the subject. How many magicians are there on Coral Island?” Liszt asked casually. He had come to visit the magician that day out of slight purpose but more out of curiosity.

“You’d get a clearer answer from Levis than from me. I can only tell you that within Coral City, there are only three magicians that I’ve been in contact with.”

“Don’t magicians often gather for meetings and exchanges?”

“The path to exploring the world is one of solitude; magic power is the embodiment of Truth. Only by listening quietly can you understand the knowledge it wants to tell you!”

Liszt continued to ask a few more questions.

Until he annoyed Grandini, “Baron Liszt, did you visit me just to ask these ignorant questions? If so, please leave immediately. Do not waste my time; my time is dedicated to the great Truth, not to chatting with you!”

“Of course it’s not just to ask questions—I also want to find you for a collaboration.”

“Speak quickly if you have something to say.”

If it weren’t for the prior insight into Grandini’s temperament from Goltai, Liszt felt that this disrespectful fellow should be dragged out and fed to Douson—although, of course, Douson might not eat him, as it preferred cooked food, or maybe needing a roast first with a sprinkle of cumin on top.

“You’ve helped the Tulip Castle, or other nobles, craft magic equipment before, haven’t you?”

“You want me to help you craft magic equipment?” Grandini became slightly interested, calming down a bit in his tone, “My skills are definitely impeccable. Even your father has asked me to repair a few pieces of magic equipment.”

Liszt was straightforward.

He took out a fist-sized black pearl he had prepared and placed it on the table: “Do you recognize this?”

“A black pearl, you actually have one of these things?”

“Have you seen a black pearl before?”

“Of course, Levis had also brought a black pearl before. Crafting magic equipment, it must be a specialty product of your Tulip family. It is more abundant and gentle in magic power than the white pearls from Blue Dragon Island, and it’s a good path to wealth.”

“So the Black Pearl Magic Equipment in Levis’s hand was also crafted by you. Since that’s the case, I’m not going to beat around the bush. This kind of black pearl, if larger in size and with more abundant magic power, could you craft it into magic equipment capable of suppressing storms at sea?”

“How large?”

Liszt, playing it coy, gestured the size of a basketball: “How about a black pearl this big?”

Grandini furrowed his brow in concentration, pondered for a moment, and said, “I need to see the actual object to determine whether I can craft equipment powerful enough to suppress storms. But I believe that as long as the quality meets the standard, the crafting process isn’t a problem. I am a magician, with twenty years of experience in practicing magic runes and formations!”

Within the magic practice hierarchy.

A Magic Apprentice is equivalent to an Apprentice Knight, a Magician to an Earth Knight, a Grand Magician to a Sky Knight, and an Archmage to a Dragon Knight.

Grandini Truth is a Magician.

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