WeTried Translations

Translator: Hydrogen B

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Omniscient First-Person's Viewpoint

Chapter 327

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One Apple Tree

After leading the horse over, she picked up a steel ingot from the ground. Through her torn sleeve, I could see a dark red tattoo running down from her elbow. Pure white light flowed along the tattoo and sank into the ingot. Geometric vertical lines etched themselves into the steel.

The woman focused her magic power. Light flashed. In the blink of an eye, the steel ingot turned into a sturdy plow.

The power to transform matter with magic power. Alchemy.
And high-level alchemy at that.

"A plow? Isn't that something you use for farming?"

"...Yeah."

"That's strange. I heard there aren't any fields in the Lesser States, so why a plow?"

As she harnessed the horse to the plow, she shot me a glance and asked shortly.

"...Drifter?"

"Ah, yeah. I came in recently."

"...There are fields. The Golden Mirror is omnipotent."

The moment she mentioned the Golden Mirror, she started speaking in longer sentences. Like a defense lawyer, she kept going with surprising passion.

"...The Golden Mirror often makes fields. Wherever the Golden Mirror passes, wide stretches of crops fill the land. The scale is so large that the Golden Palace has Juggernauts assigned just for harvesting...."

Ohhh. Right. The Lesser States might live mostly on plunder, but there was no way they could be self-sufficient on that alone. I knew food had to come from somewhere...
So it was the Golden Palace.

Everything in the Lesser States was made through the Golden Mirror's alchemy.
And if the Golden Mirror could build long walls alone, there was no way they wouldn't make more farmland when needed...

Wait.

As I followed that thought, something clicked, and I asked again.

"Hold on. You don't mean they grow crops in fields made by the Golden Mirror... You mean the Golden Mirror makes crops in the fields?"

"...Yeah."

Wait a second.

That had huge implications. Having fields that supplied crops little by little was normal enough.

But what if they could freely create the crops themselves?
What if alchemy could ripen grain at will...?

"Whoa. That's broken. If you can print food whenever you want, supply lines stop mattering."

"...Right."

"It's impressive, sure, but why are you telling me this?"

Even while we talked, she grunted and struggled to fasten the plow. She finished making it with alchemy in seconds, but attaching it took more than twice as long. She wiped her sweat with her suspenders and spoke in a low voice.

"...Remember this, military-state man."

I flinched.

How had she figured out I was from the military state? I immediately turned guarded, and she briefly looked at my wrist.

The biometric terminal, one of the military state's inventions. An ID that carried condensed human biometric data.
No way, she noticed that?

'...How great the Golden Mirror truly is, and what exactly the military state has challenged. You people who worship someone like Maximilien as one of the Six Generals probably don't even know a fragment of it.'

I hurriedly adjusted my sleeve, pretending to panic. Seeing my rushed movement, she probably thought:

'...Trying to hide it now is pointless. Spilled water. Foolish military-state man.'

Good.
I revealed my identity naturally. Things were fair now.

Because I had figured out hers too.

The Lesser States had no settled land, so they had no feudal ruling class like lords.
But that didn't mean they had no class.

Jackals were raiders. Still, nobody survives on raiding alone. Someone had to produce what people desperately needed.

In this land littered with the Golden Mirror's byproducts, if you wanted to light even a small campfire and survive the day on that fuel, you had to learn alchemy. So most people in the Lesser States learned serious alchemy. Just as farmers learn farming and hunters learn hunting, alchemy here wasn't optional. It was necessary to live.

And among them, a few stood out.

Chosen alchemists who could process the Golden Mirror's special byproducts, mysterious substances that couldn't be broken down by force or magic power.

The woman before me was one of the strongest alchemists in the Lesser States, someone who could look down even on Maximilien when it came to alchemy.
Even if she was farming out here right now.

"You've got sharp eyes."

"...You're loud, for a spy."

To start a new conversation, I needed to reset our relationship. If an ordinary jackal asked where the Golden Palace was or what the Golden Mirror was, that would obviously look suspicious.

But now that she knew I was from the military state, I could push further.

"No wonder this patch of land felt softer and had grass growing on it. So this used to be farmland made by the Golden Mirror."

"..."

"You set up camp here instead of in the city for that reason too, right? Makes sense. No matter how great alchemy is, food still matters."

"..."

"But now I'm curious. If the Golden Mirror can make grain... why isn't grain growing in this field?"

I tapped the field with my foot and looked around.

There was no nearby water source. The only water soaking her field came from a tiny watering can. She'd put up a small wire fence, but it looked too low and flimsy to stop anything that wanted the field.

Even if she endured all that and got a harvest, passing jackals would strip it before it ripened.

Or the Golden Mirror might pass by again first and turn the field into something else.

Still, she was plowing.

"This land has lost its fertility. Makes sense. A field forced onto unsuitable land wouldn't last long."

"..."

"So the Golden Mirror isn't truly omnipotent? Is it all just imitation?"

"...You."

"No, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe the Golden Mirror can do it, but chooses not to? With enough thought and enough time, they could even change the soil... Maybe they just don't care about the Lesser States?"

Crunch.

The horse, terrified out of its mind, screamed and bolted forward. Behind it, what had once been a steel plow scattered and fell apart, black and crumbly like kicked ash.

Steel that might have stayed unchanged for a thousand years rusted away in an instant in her hand.
No, rusted was too mild.

Collapse.
The very structure that made steel recognizable as steel had broken.

After ruining the plow in a blink, she glared at me with cold eyes.

"...Creation is harder than destruction."

"Of course. I've built card towers too. Building is hard, then one little tap and it all collapses."

"...The Golden Mirror keeps doing that hard work. I don't know what military-state people think of them, but."

'...Compared to me, who can only break things, the one who creates all things is amazing. Given enough time, even capable of creating the world... a supreme existence.'

Sometimes there were people like this. They reacted more strongly when you attacked what they liked or respected than when you attacked them directly.

I liked moments like this. Poke that side, and honest reactions came out.

"...I don't really care what you people do."

'...Start wars, attempt assassinations, whatever. Not my business. No matter what the military state does, it can't harm the Golden Mirror by even a speck.'

She was clumsy with words. Good thing I could read thoughts. Anyone else would have run into a communication wall.

"...But if you try to disgrace the Golden Mirror."

'...I'll melt you myself.'

It wasn't a bluff.

She merely let her magic power leak out, and the ground sank. It wasn't earth arts or Gon energy. The land that had once been turned into a field simply crumbled, the seed-breathing soil and gravel collapsing. Like an antlion trap, loose sand streamed down around her. One wrong step and I'd slide in.

Innate Arcane: Collapse. What a troublesome ability.
Even if I stole it, it would be useless to me. It only accelerated corrosion and structural collapse, and I relied heavily on tools. No benefit there.

Then maybe it was time to set conflict aside and build some rapport.

"Looks like you're misunderstanding me, but I don't plan to disgrace the Golden Mirror."

"...Then?"

"It's just that you kept talking like your side had the upper hand, so I pointed out your weak spots to gain leverage in negotiations."

The magic power gnawing at everything around us disappeared. She withdrew her innate arcane and asked again.

"...Negotiations?"

"Yes. We're peace envoys sent from the military state's General Headquarters."

She replied with suspicious eyes.

"...Not spies?"

"If we were spies, we wouldn't be walking around openly on military-state mounts. Like you said, what kind of spy shows off their biometric terminal?"

'...Thought you were just dumb.'

Harsh. Azzy might be dumb because she's a dog, but I'm not.

Hmm. I read plenty of thoughts, but still got nothing about where the Golden Palace was or how to find it. Even high-ranking people didn't know. What kind of place was this?

Still, she was a lord of the Lesser States who had visited the Golden Palace herself. She had to know more than we did. Might as well ask.

"Anyway, this worked out. We've been having a hard time finding our way in a foreign land, and then we meet someone who knows the Golden Mirror. How about helping us contribute to world peace?"

"...World peace?"

"Sounds grand, but it's simple. Just arrange a negotiation meeting for us."

"...Negotiation? With who?"

"With the Golden Mirror, obviously. Who else rules the Lesser States?"

"...You're serious?"

"Why are you reacting like that? Is there a problem?"

'...An audience with the Golden Mirror for direct negotiations? Is he fearless, or just clueless?'

She shook her head and answered.

"...Do what you want."

"Does that mean you'll help?"

"...No."

She rejected me cleanly, then turned away and looked down at her feet. Looking at the ground, which now seemed better suited for construction than farming, she let out a bitter sigh.

She was really planning to farm again. Tch, not cooperative.

"Then at least tell me where the Golden Palace is."

"...Don't know."

"Wait! Then at least tell me how to find it!"

"...Normally."

"No, what does normally mean? How is a normal I don't know supposed to be normal?"

'...Normally. Read traces on the ground and ask for directions. There is no other way.'

These people didn't even know where their own palace was!
Even if it moved around, you'd think at least one person would know.

If it were a tightly hidden secret place, I could read minds and find it. But because it roamed the land, nobody knew. Damn it, was legwork really the only option?

"Looking at you farming, you don't seem that busy. Any chance you'll guide us?"

"...Not really."

"Come on, we're peace envoys. Blood, fire, war! Let's break this horrible chain of tragedy and get along. You should help."

"...Not my business."

'...You call this land the Lesser States as if it's one thing, but really it's just jackals scavenging the Golden Mirror's leftovers. Juggernauts move however they want, companies chase only their own profit, and no one listens to anyone else's orders... unless the Golden Mirror gives the order directly.'

This woman wasn't skeptical of peace. She was skeptical of negotiation itself. Not that she hated peace, but she believed meaningful negotiations would never happen.

Damn. What a shame.

I needed to read the Golden Mirror's thoughts. But if the Golden Palace started out hostile, reading those thoughts wouldn't be easy either. Mind reading was powerful, but reading the past took time, and above all I needed a chance to get close. I still didn't know what I'd do once I reached the Golden Palace, but until then, I needed to approach as a friend.

A follower of the Golden Mirror, and a Juggernaut owner too. A woman like this could be useful...

If I couldn't persuade her now, maybe I could at least plant a seed.

"Well, too bad, but it can't be helped. As thanks for the useful information, should I tell you one thing too?"

"...Don't need it."

"It's a farming method nomads don't know. If you don't want it, fine."

She stopped walking. Her words and expression barely showed emotion, but her actions were honest. She signaled for me to continue, so I smiled lightly and dropped the bait.

"Listen carefully. The most important thing in farming is..."

"...Most important?"

"An unbreakable spirit! Don't give up, keep trying!"

"..."

"Ah, sorry. Don't glare at me like that. Can't even make a joke."

Actually, that wasn't a joke. It really was the most important part. I shrugged and added more.

"Every crop was once a wild plant with barely any seeds. Humans selected the more edible ones, then kept crossbreeding to make better varieties. If humans do that to humans, people swarm in and throw stones, calling it a Class-3 Taboo. But with plants, it's widely practiced under the name of selective breeding."

"...Even with a good variety?"

"You have to find one first. And you only find out through trial and error. No matter how good a variety is, you won't know whether it grows well here until you plant it and see fruit. It might fail, it might succeed, but first you sow as many kinds of seeds as possible."

She probably wasn't farming because she lacked food. A lord of the Lesser States wouldn't be short on money.

For her, what mattered more than the fruit was proof that fruit had grown.

"...How do I get them?"

"The Lesser States don't have those varieties, so get them from a nearby country. For example, the military state. The military state even has companies that specialize in breeding varieties. All we need is a truce agreement!"

The moment the topic circled back to a peace agreement, her interest cooled.

"...In the end, same thing."

"Well, what can I do? You're not the only one planting seeds, right? We don't know what will work, but we still have to scatter as many as possible."

So? How was that for layered persuasion?

Even after all that buildup, it didn't look like I'd moved her at all. She ignored me completely, made another plow, called the horse, took the reins, and slowly drove it forward from behind.

Tch, nothing to do about it. How do you change the mind of someone who settled into farming life?

"Tch. Fine, then. Azzy, let's go."

Azzy bounced over to me.

"Woof! Meat side dish!"

"We didn't even catch a horse, what meat side dish? None. It's bean porridge today."

"Woof?! Liar!"

"Then who told you to lose patience and jump down? If you'd stayed put, I would've at least added a piece of meat. Too bad. No meat. Don't even dream about it."

"Meeeeong!"

"Hey! I'm not meat! Don't bite me!"

Be Careful with the Word "Anything"

The longer the journey, the more calmly you had to start. We were only at the entrance of the Lesser States. If we picked the wrong direction now, the error later would spiral out of control.

The regressor wanted to head east, toward Claudia, but if the Golden Palace was west, we'd regret every step. Even the regressor didn't want that, so she used every trick to pin down at least a rough location.
In a rather economical way.

The camp in the Lesser States was currently enjoying happy economic retaliation fueled by regressor-funded cash injection.

Tch. Should've given me that money.

Still, people might lie, but money doesn't. Maybe the regressor's money flood had worked, because it took longer than expected and we ended up spending the night in camp.

The camp in the Lesser States wasn't quiet like nights in the military state. Even deep at night, people came and went through each other's tents without hesitation. Riders charged down narrow paths on horseback. People who shrieked and jumped aside cursed them out, then went back to their business.

There were no streetlights. But with lamps people carried around and alchemic glow from roadside alchemists, all kinds of light sparkled from every direction, bathing the camp in a dim radiance.

Right in the middle of that, I walked alone through camp with a stack of cards in my hand.

"Finally, proper resupply."

Lately, I'd been using cards without replenishing. I could slowly refill the magic power in Clover, but Diamond had taken brutal losses.

I'd outright lost many of them, and some were so damaged that the card backs showed through. They were no longer usable for games. On top of that, because the skewer I'd made in the Abyss was still around, my deck had two Diamond 1s, and it bothered me to no end.

A magician needed proper matching sets.
This deck was too messy.

But we were on a rushed journey. Making them myself took too long. Since I'd already gotten spending money from the regressor, I'd leave it to a skilled alchemist.

I walked through the camp's night market looking for one.

Jackals sold unfinished byproducts the Golden Mirror had left behind. Which meant someone was buying. In the Lesser States, trading houses existed that turned all kinds of materials into goods.

Unless they had a Juggernaut, smaller trading houses usually set up in crowded camps like this. So I had to pick someone useful with care.

Unlike the military state, where everything followed rigid rules, this market was a battleground where even buying one scrap of metal was a war.

"Certified rum from Drum Company! Fifty liters for 990 Alke. Not one coin less!"

"Fuck! Official price is 500, and you're charging double?!"

"Then go loot and sell it yourself. Next!"

Even buying simple goods took exhausting haggling.

"Looking for someone to fix my vehicle!"

"What kind?"

"Gearwheel two-wheeler!"

"Gearwheel? Maximilien-made? Damn, you're riding a relic...."

"What I ride is none of your business. If you're not fixing it, get lost!"

"When did I say I couldn't fix it? Show me. And have enough ready for repair fees."

Parts were different, people were different, everything had to be custom-fitted.

"You rich?"

"Uh, sir... if it's not rude, could you buy me just one cup of rum...?"

And of course, there were people trying to beg a bite out of anyone. Every kind of person had gathered into one giant cauldron of chaos.

Naturally, scammers were part of that crowd too. Right in front of me, an old man in rags somehow grabbed a merchant by the collar over a table.

"Cough, cough. You bastard, are you screwing with me? How is this only worth 14 Alke?!"

"Sir, calm down and look at the scale. At this weight, how can I price this scrap any higher?"

"It's a broken arrowhead I found in cracks in a fortress wall! No way it's scrap! And another thing! By my feel it was clearly over 30 kilos, so why does your scale say 28?!"

"Would the scale lie? Maybe your senses are the problem.... Well, if you only have three fingers, I suppose even this weight could feel heavy."

Hahaha.
The crowd laughed. The old man's face turned red, then blue. But no matter how angry he got, the number on the scale wouldn't change.

Unless someone stepped on the pedal beside it.

"Oops. My foot slipped."

It looked like the scale sat on a wooden box, but the box was part of the mechanism. Pretending to slip, I naturally stepped on the pedal on the side as I passed. The scale twitched, and the needle jumped three marks.

For a brief moment, the crowd went silent. I walked calmly through the silence I'd created and said,

"Oh dear, excuse me~ Hope business goes well~"

"Y-you...!"

A moment later, curses and shouting erupted behind me. A three-fingered fist smashed into the merchant's face and knocked out three of his teeth. The old man seemed startled, maybe he hadn't meant to go that far, but those teeth were valuable gold implants made from processed metal. The merchant scrambled to pick them up, but quick jackals had already pocketed them in their sleeves.

All kinds of chaos broke out, none of it my concern.

"A bit loud. Doesn't anyone manage this place?"

Grumbling, I left the commotion behind and looked around a relatively quiet street.

What I needed was a multipurpose alchemic tool focused on portability over firepower or durability. A product that took absurdly high labor compared to its materials.

That meant I needed an exceptional alchemist. Was there anyone who could make it in one night...?

As I walked and thought, a small tent with a half-assed sign caught my eye.

[Anything.]

Hmm. That was confidence. But was it safe? In my experience, people who say "anything" never like it when you actually ask for anything.

Let's see how skilled they are. I pulled back the flap and stepped inside.

"Come in. A guest has gra-"

"...Spy."

A familiar face looked up at me.
Ah, the woman from earlier.

Why was a lord of the Lesser States doing odd jobs like this? Then again, I'm the Human King and I'm rolling around the roadside myself. No need to ask. Everyone has their own circumstances.

First, one thing to confirm.

"This is a place that makes anything, right? Not a place that turns anything into powder, right? I just watched a plow turn to ash."

"...Get out."

"I want to place an order for this alchemic tool."

I spread my cards across the desk. It was clearly a full deck of playing cards... or had been, but parts were burned away and worn thin.

She picked up one card that had frayed away like worn fabric.
Diamond 8, long thin things.
She turned my prized work around in her hand and muttered,

"...This."

"What do you think? It's worn down, but that just means I used it well-"

"...Trash. Whoever made it."

What, insulting someone else's work to their face?

Wait. Calm down. She didn't know I made it. No matter how poor her communication skills were, she probably wouldn't trash a piece in front of its creator.

Actually, this was a chance. I'd tell her I made it and embarrass her.

"Ahem. Actually, I made that. Back when I was young and clueless, I gathered every bit of knowledge and money I could to make it...."

"...Figures."

"Figures? Figures? You can't even farm properly, and you're mocking something someone built with blood and sweat? Do you even know what consideration is?! I held back earlier, but I'll say this straight. You'll never make a living with that farming! Even the laziest farmer would look like a god of agriculture next to you!"

I snapped and shouted, and she shrank a little as she answered,

"...Pointless. Wasteful."

Was that an excuse or another jab? Let's see what she was thinking.

'...Expensive and complicated. Too labor-intensive. But not worth the value. A result made with precious alchemic coins and high-level technique, and all it does is unfold thin wire. Extremely inefficient. Better to make another weapon....'

Reading her thoughts, I had to admit it made sense. I was letting it slide only because I could read minds. If I weren't a mind reader, I might've grabbed her by the collar.

"...What do you want? Repair?"

"Call it repair. I want all thirteen cards restored in this style. Do all of them. I'll pay whatever it takes."

Skewer, hook, horn bow, short spear, scythe, revolver, wire, hand axe, shield and sword.

Most of them had been consumed or damaged in combat after leaving Amitenggrad, the military-state capital. The revolver that survived, I gave to Ria. As for the wire, even though I recovered it whenever I could, more than half was gone.

Until now I'd been too rushed to refill my arsenal, but this was my chance to fully restore my combat power. Not that I'd use it that much anyway.

She stared at the cards, then shook her head.

"...Can't."

"You called them trash, and now you say you can't? Is this how business works these days?"

"...No. Easy to make. But."

"But?"

"...Annoying."

Was this really someone trying to run a business? Refusing because it was annoying?

Of course that wasn't her real thought, but still... mind reading.

'...It's not about difficulty. It takes too much labor. Making a transforming weapon is easy, but making it revert to card form... that's like sewing stitch by stitch. And shaping it into specific forms is more art than technique.'

So she really was capable. She'd understood all that in a short glance.

She was right. Making these took a lot out of me. Even Diamond 1, the simplest shape, the multipurpose skewer, had taken a full night. The rest took so long I don't even want to talk about it.

...Tch. That's why I wanted someone else to do it.

"If you pull an all-nighter, you can finish three cards."

"...Don't want to."

"No, aren't you sitting here to work and earn money? Why are you striking against a customer? You don't want money?"

'...Yap, yap, noisy. I'm not here for money....'

She let out a small sigh and raised her hand.

"...Instead."

She placed her palm on the table. The tattoo on her arm flashed, and magic power flowed into the iron table, heating it white. The instant the table was wrapped in white light, she lifted her palm.

Something bizarre happened. The table, clearly made of steel, peeled up with her hand like sticky dough. Sparkling light flaked off like powder.

It wasn't melting. The steel, shifted into a mutable state by alchemy, stayed cold while becoming soft. It looked like a bundle of threads made of light. She wound the steel bundle around her palm again and again, drawing it thinner and thinner. Once it was fine enough, she grabbed it in one motion and poured it over my card.

Light flashed. A moment later.

"...Here."

In front of me was a fully restored Diamond 8.

I said, half in amazement,

"Wait. You restored this in one second? And you've been whining all this time?"

"...Same structure repeats. I copied it."

Even if the structure repeats, still. She alchemized the entire structure and pasted it in?
She even gave the wire elasticity.

No wonder wandering alchemists carried trading-house names. If one person handled raw material processing and final product manufacturing, that was a one-person factory and a one-person trading house.

The power to understand and alter structure in a short time: alchemy.

Everyone here learned it. And because of that, ironically, people in the Lesser States didn't need other people very much. If they needed something, they made it themselves, then traded only what they absolutely couldn't obtain.

That was probably why the Lesser States never became one large society.
They didn't need others much...

"Great. Keep this momentum and fix the rest of the cards too."

"...Can't."

'...This one only needed missing thread refilled, but the others have fixed transformed forms. Hard to touch, because that's partly in the realm of art.'

"Tch. Fine. Then how much for this?"

This was the important part.
The regressor had given me spending money, but never told me to return the difference. Which meant anything I saved through bargaining went straight into my pocket.

If I wanted to spend like a high official, I had to earn like Azzy.
Reading her mind, I waited for her to name the price.

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