Volume 4 - CH 5.1

—Leviathan 3—

My honor, if I may say so, lasted only two years after the night I created the blue rose in the royal palace.

During those two years, the queen took me with her wherever she went, and with the masked alchemist behind her, she threatened the nobles who refused to accept her. The aristocrats gradually came to believe that they had to please the queen or there would be terrible consequences. She began to reign over high society like an empress.

Meanwhile, I tried to reign in politics. I attended and spoke at every meeting on colonial policy. Many of the top brass disliked my presence, while the king seemed to take a neutral stance.

Then one night…

I entered the queen’s room to find Baron Musgrave there. The Minister of Justice. The man who had called me a fraud. He was whispering something to the queen, and she turned pale.

Baron Musgrave had told her to keep me away from her. If she kept this up, the king would send her away along with the alchemist.

From that night on, the queen no longer called me to her side. I asked her why, but she would not tell me.

And then several days later, I was summoned to a certain place.

A courtroom.

Baron Musgrave, the Minister of Justice himself, had initiated an unprecedented hearing. He and the king were present.

The validity of alchemy itself was put on trial. Using records and historical facts from all times and places, a scholar from the Ministry of Occult asserted that alchemy was real, while a scholar from the Academy of Science insisted that there was no evidence.

I listened in disgust and anger.

It was a showdown between ancient knowledge and science. A losing battle for the occult, which had been losing support in recent times.

I could not listen. I fell silent, my fists shaking.

The baron stood up. He pointed straight at me, and said, “Leviathan! You have lost.”

I snickered. “How?”

He clapped his hands ceremoniously. “But I will give you a chance. Create gold right here, right now, in front of our eyes. You must abandon your secretive methods and reveal the manufacturing process. This is an order from the king.”

The baron turned around and exchanged looks with the king. I knew exactly what that gesture meant.

“I see what is happening,” I said. “You are afraid of my power, but you want gold. You wish to ruin me, corner me, so that you can perform alchemy with your own hands.”

“No. I do not believe in alchemy. Why would I? I simply want to prove that it’s not real.”

“But what about the king?” I sneered, and the king’s face twisted.

Baron Musgrave raised his hands toward the king in protest. “Your Majesty, it’s all a trick. If we don’t get rid of this monster now, Sauville will fall into ruin!”

“It is no use, Baron. The king wants gold.”

Baron Musgrave was speechless. He tried to jump me, but I dodged, laughing.

“Leviathan,” the king called in a quiet voice.

I turned around. The king was staring at me, wearing the same expression that he had in the corridor two years ago. A mix of suspicion and fear.

“Take off your mask and robe,” he said.

“What?”

“I’ve always wanted to see your real face. I spent sleepless nights, curious. Are you a demon? Or are you a human being? Are you even alive? Thanks to you, our finances are stable. Yet I could not help but think: What if we entered into a contract with a terrifying entity?”

I swallowed, took several steps back.

The king never took his eyes off me. “I cannot sleep at night…”

“S-Stop!”

“When I doze off, I dream of that mask.”

“Stay back!”

“In your dreams, you remove your mask. One night your face was that of a rotting dead crawling with maggots. Another night, you had the face of a beautiful young man. But another night it was that of a terrifying woman’s, twisted in resentment. But I have a feeling that none of the faces I have seen in my dreams belong to you.”

“No…”

“I cannot sleep at night, masked one. Enigmatic alchemist!”

For the first time, I felt fear.

Baron Musgrave watched us curiously, at how the tables had turned.

The king did not back down. “Leviathan, please take off that mask!” he insisted.

“I refuse!”

I turned on my heel and fled.

That night, a verdict was handed down.

The court had ruled that alchemy was not real.

I became a nobody. I asked to see the beautiful and sweet queen, but I was never allowed to see her again.

Alchemy does not exist. Then I am no longer an alchemist; only a mysterious man in a mask.

After losing everything in just one day, I returned to the village alone. As the train rocked my body, rage and bitterness filled my heart.

I was so close. I never anticipated an obstacle.

Baron Musgrave…

It was his fault. He called me a fraud and ended me.

By the time I arrived in the village, I had nothing but vengeance burning in my heart.

I returned to the clock tower and was about to spend the night doing experiments when someone came to visit me. When I went outside, I saw a luxurious carriage parked outside.

“The Queen?”

I had a glimmer of hope. Her face flashed through my mind.

But it was someone else who jumped down from the carriage. A boy of only 15 or 16 years old. The same boy whom I met in this same tower two years ago.

Ian de Musgrave, the eldest son of the cursed Baron Musgrave. His short hair had grown long, and his once effeminate body had grown considerably. He looked more like an adult now.

Ian, looking as innocent and happy as ever, asked me, “What are you doing now?”

“Living my life in seclusion,” I replied.

“What a waste! How in the world did this happen?”

Did he not know what his father had done? Or did he just not care?

“I couldn’t come here because my father insists I stay away. But he seemed busy today, so he couldn’t keep an eye on me the whole time. I threatened my attendant. Am I bothering you?”

“No.” I shook my head.

Two years had passed since that day, and Ian was still as curious about alchemy as ever. Without a shred of caution, he said, “Please teach me alchemy. I’d like to know all about it.”

“Very well.”

I led Ian and his attendant into the clock tower’s clockwork room.

Four huge mechanisms and a pendulum were moving slowly that night. Lab equipment lay scattered on the ebony table.

I ordered his attendant to check carefully that there was no gold anywhere in the workshop, just as Baron Musgrave had done two years ago.

When they were done, I sent them out into the hallway. Then I locked myself in the workshop alone with Ian.

Ian, who had no idea what was going on, looked happy. He was enthusiastic as he talked to me about all sorts of things.

Three hours passed.

The boy’s agonized cry—the most horrifying scream that anyone had ever heard in their entire life—rang out from the workshop.

Startled, the attendant kicked down the door and tumbled inside.

“What did you do?!”

In the clockwork room, huge mechanisms spun eerily. A pendulum was swinging idly high above, the breeze it produced flapping my robe.

In the middle of the workshop stood a masked and robed alchemist—me. Alone.

Ian de Musgrave was lying at my feet.

His pretty face was distorted with fear and pain to the point that he was completely unrecognizable. Clumps of gold glittered around his open mouth.

A large golden flower had blossomed, ripping through his white belly.

Splashes of gold broke through Ian’s belly from the inside, mixing with his internal organs, flesh, skin. It spilled out of the gaping hole in his stomach like a blooming flower.

Warm gold mingling with fountaining blood gushed out of the hole.

The attendant lunged at me. “Bastard! What have you done to the young master?!”

“I made him drink molten gold,” I replied coolly. “The gold went down his throat and into his stomach, and the high heat ruptured his belly. The shock killed him.”

“Y-You monster!” The attendant, trembling with rage, pointed at my mask. “Don’t even think you can get away with this. This is murder. An unknown commoner killed the son of a noble!”

“I am well aware of that.”

“Bastard!”

“Tell Baron Musgrave: can he prove it in court?”

The attendant looked stunned.

The giant mechanisms whirred endlessly.

I snickered. The pendulum swung slowly, creating a dry breeze that fluttered my robe.

“Do you understand what I am saying? Baron Musgrave has just proven tonight, on his own authority, in the court of Sauville, that alchemy is not real. And just a few moments ago, you confirmed that there was no gold anywhere in this workshop. But when you opened the door, Ian was dead, having drunk gold. If alchemy was not real, where did the gold come from?”

The attendant fell on his knees and covered his face with both hands.

I guffawed. My shrill laughter echoed up to the high ceiling, at the swinging pendulum, at the abyss. My voice rose endlessly.

“None can pass judgment on me. None!” I bellowed.