Chapter 88: Find Two People

"What a pity. If magic scrolls could be mass-produced like printed books, pressed out one after another by a machine… Oh, right! That guy, Dorimal, is quite skilled with machines. I should head back to Masshumaria to find him…"

"You really like magic scrolls, don't you?"

"Huh?" Lord Borugan was slightly surprised—not by the question itself, but by the fact that Grutt would ask something so peculiar.

"I said, do you really like magic scrolls?" Grutt repeated the question in the exact same tone, with the same expression, as if he hadn't changed at all.

Lord Borugan answered honestly, "I wouldn't say I like them, at least not the scrolls themselves. In fact, I used to dislike anything related to mages... But for Orford, these things are invaluable."

Grutt neither agreed nor disagreed. Instead, he continued, "I know that from a practical standpoint, you and Theodorus are the most crucial figures in Orford, the ones who do the most. But Orford originally had nothing to do with you. Do you find building Orford enjoyable?"

"Enjoyable? Yes, very much so," Lord Borugan nodded, speaking truthfully. Yet deep down, his curiosity only grew.

He hadn't known Grutt for an exceptionally long time, nor was their acquaintance particularly brief. But never once had he heard Grutt ask such a personal question before.

At least from what he had seen and heard, General Grutt was a man of few words—his speech was always concise, direct, and strictly related to Orford. Never once had he displayed anything that could be considered personal in his actions or words.

Sometimes, Lord Borugan even suspected that Grutt was nothing more than a magical automaton, created solely for war and the prosperity of Orford. Apart from his sheer strength, which was as glaringly obvious as the sun, Grutt seemed to have no hobbies, no personal relationships, no striking personality traits. In fact, it was as if he lacked even the fundamental humanity that most people naturally possessed.

"Hmm." Grutt gave a slight nod. "I think so too. Theodorus didn't lie to me—it really is interesting. Much more interesting than life in Nigen."

"Why don't you sit down and chat for a bit, General Grutt?" Lord Borugan stood up, his curiosity piqued.

"No need. I prefer to stand. Just wanted to have a quick word with you." Grutt remained motionless, standing upright as always. It seemed that as long as he could stand, he would never choose to sit. Rest, relaxation, ease—these concepts were completely foreign to him.

"I don't like scrolls either." Grutt frowned, a rare trace of disdain appearing on his usually expressionless face. "Anyone can use them. Anyone can kill with them."

"Oh, that's true." Lord Borugan nodded. But that was precisely the value of scrolls. Even the so-called strongest paladin on the continent, Lancelote, wouldn't be able to withstand ten magic apprentices simultaneously unleashing top-tier spells from scrolls. A warrior of Lancelote's caliber only emerged once every few decades, whereas ten high-level scrolls could be prepared by a group of mages in mere days.

"They're such boring things. So dull that sometimes even truly interesting matters lose their appeal." Grutt said flatly.

"Maybe." Lord Borugan scratched his head. He didn't quite understand what Grutt meant. Perhaps he was reminiscing about the three Knight Commanders of the Yoda Order who had been obliterated by the forbidden spell. Borugan recalled that when Grutt returned that day, he had only said two short words: "Regretful. Boring." Maybe he was thinking about how mining in the Saundfest Mountains, though done for Orford, was ultimately just to produce more scrolls—something he found utterly boring.

As if that fleeting moment of sentiment had already passed, Grutt turned and strode toward the door.

"General Grutt, do you know about crossbows?" Lord Borugan suddenly asked.

"I do." Grutt stopped and turned back to answer.

"Now in Orford, the lizardmen and many other beastmen are equipped with crossbows—various kinds of them, even massive ballistae. Crossbows are powerful and easy to operate. But in their early days, many generals, even the Pope at the time, forbade their use for the same reason you just mentioned: anyone could use them, and anyone could kill with them. A commoner with no combat training, as long as they had a well-made crossbow, could potentially kill a seasoned knight." Lord Borugan shrugged. "But now, every army is equipped with them. The reason is simple: they're effective."

Grutt silently gazed at Lord Borugan for a moment before nodding. "You're saying that scrolls, too, are inevitable."

"Technology and tools always evolve toward being stronger and more practical. I imagine the ones who invented the crossbow, or the first officer who decided to equip their troops with it, must have felt the same way I do now about scrolls—found it quite interesting."

"Maybe." Grutt nodded again.

"First it was crossbows, now it's magic scrolls, and in the future, there will definitely be even more powerful things. A brother of mine, who studies alchemy and mechanics, once told me that maybe one day, wars won't even rely on warriors anymore—only tools. Just one press of a button, and dozens, hundreds, maybe even thousands of elite soldiers could be wiped out in an instant. Not just war—maybe other aspects of life will depend on tools as well…"

"A boring world," Grutt said coldly.

"But the ones pursuing these things must all be doing it for the sake of something interesting. Just like how you and I, in pursuit of Orford development—something we find interesting—are mass-producing these magic scrolls, which are completely uninteresting. Heh… what kind of logic is this…" Lord Borugan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Are we, in our pursuit of excitement, actually making the world more and more boring?"

"Boring." Grutt considered for a moment before leaving behind that single word and turning away.

"Huh… So that's how it is…" Lord Borugan continued stroking his broad chin, pondering over his own conclusion. He thought about it for a long time, but it didn't quite make sense to him. Finally, he picked up a stack of documents and began reading. "Damn… What's the point of overthinking things that don't have answers… Just do what needs to be done…"

Inside the small wooden cabin, Grandma Ail sat at the table, listening intently as Asa spoke.

Asa and Grandma Ail had often sat at this very table and talked, but for twenty years, it had always been Asa listening attentively to Grandma Ail's teachings and guidance. Now, however, their roles were completely reversed.

The conversation lasted a long time—Asa had too much to say. From entering the underground passage with Shante, to his encounter with Lancelote, the theft of the Black Star's hilt, Moriel's sudden intervention, and finally, Moriel's revelation of the truth. Each event was unexpected, almost beyond imagination. Yet, despite all this, Grandma Ail's expression, while surprised, never turned to outright shock. She was taken aback, but she did not lose her composure.

"That boy Lancelote actually dared to set his sights on Moriel? His courage is beyond reckless… No, I should say it's that Magnus fellow who's the real madman. If I recall correctly, he wasn't supposed to be this kind of person… What a surprise." Grandma Ail shook her head with a wry smile. "But the biggest surprise of all is the true nature of the Black Star… The great Lord Akibard—I have to admit, I admire you a little now…"

Then, suddenly, Grandma Ail asked, "You haven't told Sandru about all this yet, have you? Take a guess—what do you think his reaction will be when he hears it?"

"What kind of reaction?" Asa thought for a moment. Would he fly into a rage? Curse furiously? Rush to Nigen to find Moriel, or return to Dehya Valley? He shook his head. "I don't know. I can't guess."

Grandma Ail sighed with a bitter smile. "I can't quite imagine it either—what kind of feelings he'll have when he learns that the thing that troubled him for half his life turned out to be this. We were all so full of ourselves before, so obsessed, so blinded by anger and confusion. That's why we interpreted Lord Akibard's last words in the way we did. And to think I used to scoff at little Vadenina, calling her insane. But really, weren't we all just using our own minds to force our own interpretations onto Akibard's words? In the end, we trapped ourselves in delusions for half our lives... Perhaps this is the punishment for losing a heart that is clear and far-seeing."

She then looked directly at Asa. "So, what do you plan to do now?"

Asa answered, "I need to go to Celeste."

Grandma Ail shook her head. "If you're planning to retrieve the sword hilt, then I advise you not to go. Since there is no great, unchangeable prophecy, you shouldn't involve yourself with that thing anymore. It has already brought you enough suffering, and I don't want you risking your life again. Since Lancelote knows you're coming, he will surely be prepared."

"If the hilt is truly such a thing, let it stay in Celeste. I know Magnus—he has no interest in touching it."

"I know. Since he left that message, he's definitely waiting for me. But I'm not afraid," Asa said with a smile. Rodhart and Hilika, the two undead knights, had fully recovered, and he still had the crystal Moriel had given him.

Grandma Ail said coolly, "Don't get too full of yourself. Just because your strength is decent now doesn't mean you can underestimate Lancelote in terms of experience and cunning, let alone Magnus. And Celestial Castle is not a place you can come and go as you please. Even back then, when I wanted to assassinate Decken, I had to wait until he left Celeste before making my move."

"It's fine. Their defenses are probably only focused around the hilt of the Black Star, but I'm just going to drop something off there for Moriel... and also... to find two people."