The Gaze of the Malevolent Deity and the Mystery of Purebloods

Noren mulled over what Big Brain had just revealed, noting that he hadn’t explicitly defined the criteria for a “wizard,” nor had he clarified the nature of a “wizard gathering.”

However, her curiosity was piqued by something else entirely: the book Big Brain had mentioned, which detailed the cultivation of “bloodline ancestors” and “purebloods.”

“Where is that book?”

“What book?” Big Brain’s eyes flickered to the upper right, and he let out a casual whistle.

The boy was clearly feigning ignorance.

“Shall I kill you?” Noren picked up a grey stone from the ground, her veins bulging on the back of her hand, and crushed it with a resounding *pop*.

“Eek—” Big Brain’s teeth clenched in terror, his lips peeled back in a grimace. His legs trembled so violently that, despite his best efforts to clench them together, he still wet himself.

“I couldn’t bring that book with me,” he confessed, his voice trembling. “There was a raging fire at the time, and the manor was ransacked by rioters. The old, the weak, women, and children all met a tragic end. My brother and I seized the chance to escape, and we didn’t manage to take the book. It’s still in a wooden box, buried beneath an oak tree within the manor grounds.”

Under the palpable threat of death, Big Brain reluctantly divulged the book’s location.

Noren remained unconvinced. “You never went back to retrieve it?”

Big Brain gritted his teeth, his frustration evident. “A band of mountain bandits seized the manor and made it their stronghold. The local Count, seeing the estate reduced to ashes, never bothered to dispatch troops to clear them out. To this very day, that book lies buried there!”

Noren searched through the pile of miscellaneous items they had already brought out, as well as the boxes filled with parchment scrolls, but found no substantial parchment book among them.

‘It seemed he wasn’t lying,’ Noren mused.

“Can only wizard families cultivate ‘bloodline ancestors’ and ‘purebloods’?”

“Precisely!” Big Brain affirmed with conviction.

A faint smile played on her lips. “Are you so absolutely certain?”

“Cer… at least, that’s what the book states.”

“Oh? So you’ve never encountered another ‘bloodline ancestor’ before me. How, then, are you so convinced that I am one?”

Big Brain’s certainty wavered significantly. His brother had just outlined the distinct characteristics of a “bloodline ancestor,” yet this blonde woman seemed to have forgotten them almost instantly. Such a lapse in memory hardly seemed consistent with the traits of a true “bloodline ancestor.”

Big Brain lowered his head in contemplation, but upon looking up, he met the shimmering green gaze of the blonde woman, and a sudden realization dawned on him: ‘she hadn’t fully believed a word he said from the very beginning!’

He felt his life was in peril. “Skin as white as porcelain, lips like vermillion, teeth like pearls, a physique adhering to the golden ratio—this is the ‘Beauty that Topples Kingdoms.’ A vigorous life force, an agile build, and ultimate strength—this is ‘Hercules.’ Eyes gleaming with keen intellect… these are the universal hallmarks of all intelligent beings.”

“I see,” Noren murmured, a faint, humorless smile playing on her lips as she finally received the answer she sought. “Your brother wasn’t quite as clear, was he?”

Big Brain swallowed a nervous gulp, his fear palpable.

“Oh—”

Tolke, standing nearby, suddenly drew out his words, his expression one of dawning surprise. “So Noren, you’re truly that formidable! Could Old Man Svein possibly be some kind of ‘wizard’? Wouldn’t that make him like that s*ave we captured while poaching last spring?”

Noren crossed her arms, forming a definitive ‘X’ with them. “Ab-so-lute-ly not!”

She turned, her gaze fixed on Big Brain. “Even if I were to concede that I am a ‘bloodline ancestor,’ neither I, nor my father, my aunt, or my brother, are any of your so-called ‘wizards.’ Furthermore, I can tell you plainly: I once killed a ‘wizard.’ That cursed man claimed to serve both God and a malevolent deity, and he managed to gravely wound me with merely a single finger. I possess knowledge you would do well not to underestimate. You’d best not—”

“A Miracle Worker!”

Big Brain shrieked uncontrollably, his arms flailing, his legs thrashing in a desperate struggle. His eyes were wide, his face contorted with pure madness. “Impossible! Absolutely impossible! How could a Miracle Worker possibly serve a horned, malevolent deity? He would be more than qualified to ascend to the papacy of Rome!”

Confronted with Big Brain’s frantic outburst, Tolke tightened his grip on the back of his neck. The more Big Brain struggled, the tighter Tolke squeezed, and a tell-tale reddish flush of oxygen deprivation slowly crept across his face.

“Release him.”

At her command, Tolke released his vice-like grip, and Big Brain crumpled to the ground.

“Cough, cough… impossible, this is utterly impossible…” Big Brain rasped, clutching his throat, his constant refrain of “impossible” suggesting that this “Miracle Worker” was indeed a figure of immense consequence.

‘Miracle worker or not, I’ve already killed the man!’

“Hey, have you regained your senses?” Noren asked, nudging his large head with her foot.

Tears streamed from his eyes as he coughed, yet he managed to nod between gasps.

“Never mind that ‘Miracle Worker,’ then. What exactly is your criterion for identifying a ‘wizard’? Do you classify me as such simply because ‘bloodline ancestors’ can only be bred within wizard families, or is there another reason entirely?”

“You…” Big Brain began, but before he could continue, Little Brain, who had just stirred awake, interjected to answer Noren’s question.

“Because you bear the gaze of the horned, malevolent deity.”

“The gaze of a malevolent deity?” The chilling implication of his words sent a shiver down Noren’s spine.

“Indeed! It’s a privilege reserved solely for the patriarchs of wizard gatherings, so you must undoubtedly be a wizard!” Little Brain exclaimed, rubbing his swollen cheeks as he pushed himself to his feet.

‘Damn it all! Could I truly be a wizard? Impossible, absolutely impossible. This “gaze of a malevolent deity” is utter nonsense. While the enlightened Middle Ages might have been steeped in ignorance and bloodshed, they most certainly adhered to the principles of science!’

Unconsciously, Noren’s hand went to her ample chest, where a wondrous artifact known as the “Bloodstone” lay concealed.

She pressed for details. “And these ‘wizard gatherings’? Are they merely groups of wizards convened together?”

Big Brain cleared his throat. “To be precise, a ‘wizard gathering’ is naturally formed when two-thirds of the individuals within a single clan achieve the status of a wizard.”

‘So, the “wizard gathering” was quite literal, after all.’

Noren then posed the question that truly weighed on her mind. “And ‘purebloods’? What exactly are they?”

Big Brain and Little Brain abruptly dropped to their knees, their hands clasped together in a gesture of profound reverence. “Ah~ the Pureblood! It is the singular, the absolute truth, that which even the gods yearn for but cannot attain, the very root of all human bloodlines!”

“Speak plainly!”

“The Pureblood is an unattainable dream for all wizard families. Unlike the breeding method of ‘bloodline ancestors,’ which involves introducing superior traits—or rather, quite the opposite—the ‘Pureblood’ necessitates countless generations of procreation among the closest of blood relatives. Brother and sister, parent and child, a grand amalgamation of kinship. The more common ancestors involved, the greater the probability of successfully breeding a ‘Pureblood.’ Yet, most families who dared to covet the ‘Pureblood’ ultimately vanished into the annals of history. The myriad curses that inevitably arose during the breeding process led to the extinction of countless wizard lineages. The book explicitly states: ‘Only by first becoming a ‘bloodline ancestor’ does one grasp a sliver of opportunity to achieve the ‘Pureblood’!'”

The blonde maiden grasped the horrifying implication. A wave of sorrow involuntarily washed over her face as her fingers traced the smooth, supple curve of her cheek. Her voice was laced with self-mockery: “So, that’s just… inbred abominations?”

“Waaah!” The two brothers suddenly began to beat their chests and stomp their feet, resembling a pair of baboons in a mating ritual. “How can the matter of the Pureblood be called incest! How can the magnificent Pureblood ever be deemed an abomination! This is sacrilege, utter sacrilege!”

With those words, they lunged at Noren, as if intent on tearing her limb from limb, utterly oblivious to who truly held the knife and who was merely the fish on the chopping block!

With two swift, precise kicks, the two large-headed figures, clutching their oversized craniums, tumbled straight backward. Their desperate, last-ditch struggle was nothing short of a laughable spectacle.

They lay sprawled on their backs, utterly limp on the ground. By the time Noren and Tolke moved closer to check on them, they had already succumbed to a profound, unconscious “sleep.”

‘She had used too much force, once more.’

“Take them back to Ostrava,” she instructed.

Noren remained silent for a moment, contemplating, before making her decision. She found these two large-headed dwarves rather intriguing. Despite being wizards, they hadn’t directly offended her, and both possessed a certain “genius.” Perhaps they could prove useful in the future.

The day’s extensive conversation had certainly resolved many of her lingering doubts, yet it simultaneously plunged her into a deeper sense of bewilderment, as if she were adrift in a dense fog.

“Pureblood…” she murmured, sighing as she gazed upwards.