CH 207

I’m in my own room made by the transmuted beast Eve here in the new territory, Putaresque. I also brought Rose’s main body with me from Habbafulton, so I couldn’t be more comfortable. I’m pretty sure this is going to be my base of operations.

The founding ceremony the day before yesterday went on without any major problems.

When the kagero seedling was planted, both Seilook and Un the undead dragon meddled with it, and I guess that’s why it’s even bigger than the one in Habbafulton.

There was also a last minute event where Princess Lily, who hasn’t left yet, greeted people. There was a bit of trouble afterwards when my greeting got more cheers than hers.

I stop recollecting, and try to focus.

There is a workbench in front of me, and on it is a sword, rolled up in a sealing scroll.

I carefully remove the sealing scroll, and hold my hand over the exposed sword.

I can feel heat through my glove.

It looks like it’s resonating with my new curse power.

This is Taula’s sword, that ended the shaman’s life, was cursed by using said life as compensation, and pierced my abdomen.

It looks like my blood changed this curse.

Apparently my blood and flesh are polluted with potion quite a bit.

I think I know why. Back when I was working myself to the bone in the association, I drank enough potion to bathe in it. And I also did all sorts of experiments on my body when I was making the bloody potion.

Because of this, the patterns of the curse have become strange in the tip of the sword and the part that pierced my abdomen.

I look at the sword’s information displayed on a transcribe scroll, and sigh.

Most of it has turned into garbled text that I can’t read. I nervously test various potions and perfectly pure water to see if they can erase the curse, but it all gets repelled.

If the cause has become garbled, there’s nothing more alchemy can do.

“I guess alchemy and curses really might be opposites. But what now…”

I whisper while remembering what I heard when I held on to Taula’s sword because it’s dangerous.

This is a memento, because someone that took care of her gave this sword to her as a gift when she became a knight.

Taula’s eyes looked more kind than ever, when she was saying this person liked red poppies.

“This person was probably one of her friends who was killed by the shaman. I need to make it so she can use this sword again.”

I’m determined to do this, and remove the glove from my right hand. I let out curse haze from this hand, and touch the sword’s handle.

I can feel the curse seeping through the sword, until it reaches a point where I feel a strong resistance from the blade, and let go.

“It’s no good, I can’t grab it. Not even a curse will work… Oops!”

And then, the world shakes.

I instantly grab the sword with my right hand and hold on to the work bench, and manage to stabilize myself. But it’s shaking so much that it’s hard to stand. Because of this, I grabbed the bottom of the blade instead of the handle. That left a shallow cut on the palm of my hand, and it starts bleeding.

“…!”

The shaking stops.

“What was that? I don’t think it was a simple tremor…”

I pour potion on the palm of my right hand, and see the sword’s blade.

The patterns are being rewritten where my blood and the curse are.