A Flaw in the Plan

But even those things were no problem. This was where the power of the family's secret tome really shone: "Beast Taming," "Insect Repelling," even "Feign Death," "Bear Transformation," and "Mosquitoes Can't See Me." There was a whole pile of spells, some serious and some anything but.

Kronos had felt rather helpless when he first saw those hilarious names. He had no idea how desperate his ancestors must have been, but he had certainly never expected to find a use for them one day.

After three straight hours of travel, they finally came across a stream and sat down on the ground. Kronos sprawled out without a shred of dignity, panting heavily, while Gner was doing reasonably well. At least he still had enough energy left to keep an eye on their surroundings.

"Well, Kronos? Do you still think you can carry out your plan perfectly? Maybe you could if you never got tired, but you're not a machine," Gner said beside him.

He had been through forced marches before, so the moment he first saw Kronos, he knew the plan would never work. But he had kept quiet.

Gner knew Kronos had absolute faith in himself. Without evidence, there was no shaking a plan he had devised, and letting him try it himself was the best evidence of all.

Having known him for so long, Kronos naturally understood that Gner was teaching him, not mocking him.

"I really was too hasty. I based the whole plan on written information and didn't account for real-world factors. Mostly, I just have no experience with this sort of thing. There's no way I can finish the plan now. I just hope we don't delay the fleet," Kronos said between heavy breaths.

"We probably won't," Gner said. "I checked the tracks by the water, and there really aren't any signs of large creatures. There are people living in the mountains, too, so there shouldn't be much danger here. As long as we don't run into trouble like that, we can still get back aboard before the fleet leaves."

Though they had already established that Kronos's plan was not particularly practical, he was stubborn. He wanted to see just how much he could accomplish and how far he could push himself.

So after barely ten minutes of rest, he dragged a thoroughly resigned Gner back onto the trail, saying they should try to meet today's goal: reaching the vicinity of the second village before nightfall.

Gner made a rough estimate and decided that goal was probably impossible, too. But he said nothing. He would let Kronos try first; otherwise, the stubborn fellow would never be satisfied.

It was almost two in the afternoon when they reached the vicinity of the first village.

According to the information the bookstore owner had provided, the village's main livelihood came from a grove west of the village. The trees growing there were called butterfly trees.

They had earned that name because they gave off a scent that attracted butterflies, so swarms of butterflies always fluttered around them. Humans could not smell it, however. Only by grinding the wood into powder and adding it to a certain spice could they enhance the spice's aroma.

Unfortunately, that spice was popular in the Southern Continent, and specifically among its indigenous people, which made things rather miserable.

How much money could the indigenous people of a colony possibly have? They were all being exploited, so the spice was quite cheap. Less scrupulous merchants even left out the butterfly tree powder to cut their costs further.

But since the village was in the mountains and had few everyday expenses, the butterfly trees could still cover its normal costs despite their low value.

Over the past few years, however, almost all the wild butterfly trees in the mountains had been sold, while the ones the villagers were growing had yet to mature. As a result, most of the money earned from selling butterfly trees in recent years had gone toward fertilizer, in the hope of getting these trees to grow faster.

For Kronos, though, this was simple. He might not be able to turn their saplings into fully grown trees in one go, but saving them a few years would be easy.

He got straight to work, changing into his "battle robes" while Gner kept watch nearby.

The rest was familiar territory. After all, he had already done it once.

As soon as Kronos flew into the village, he drew countless people's attention.

Just as Kronos had expected, in an age like this, the harder people's lives were, the more they believed in gods and supernatural powers. Or rather, every day they hoped someone like that would come and save them from their lives.

So the moment they saw Kronos, more than two-thirds of the village knelt, hoping to gain the help of the "Lord Warlock."

Kronos felt both pleased and saddened. He was pleased because his potion digestion was progressing rapidly, and saddened because all these people before him could have chosen to leave the mountains and make decent lives for themselves, yet refused. In the end, they were kneeling before a mere Sequence 7 like him for a few paltry favors.

He did find them pitiable, but he still had to help. He simply did not know whether that help was right or wrong, or whether it would lead them to believe someone would always come to help them in the future.

They might ultimately refuse to leave the mountains even if they starved to death, firmly convinced that a god would help them. But that was a matter for later, and it would have nothing to do with Kronos.

"Everyone, fate has brought us together. From far away, I sensed that you needed my help. You may now make a reasonable request." By now, this sort of mystical babble came effortlessly to Kronos.

But as Kronos had expected, the villagers before him were not thinking about the butterfly trees at all. Instead, every one of them wanted something for nothing.

"Lord Warlock, I want money! Not too much, just enough to last me a lifetime!"

"Lord Warlock, I want to become someone like you!"

"Lord Warlock, could you live in our village for the rest of your life?"

"Lord Warlock, could you give me a noble title?"

The resources in this mountain range were indeed rather scarce. Yet even under those circumstances, the villagers would rather cling to this grove of butterfly trees than leave. The desire to get something for nothing ran deep in them.

Their wishes confirmed that further for Kronos. If they had stayed out of affection for the butterfly trees, surely at least one wish would have concerned them.

If not for acting, Kronos might never have spoken to them at all. Under the circumstances, however, he could only maintain his gentle smile and keep watching the villagers.

Perhaps the villagers had also realized that the "Lord Warlock" would not grant excessive requests, because their demands began to shrink.

"Lord Warlock, I want to live in the Northern Continent!"

"Lord Warlock, I want a fishing boat of my own!"

These wishes were actually quite simple, and Kronos could grant them at any time. But if they had nothing to do with spells, how would that count as being a Warlock?

Besides, Kronos was very curious to see when these people would remember their "lifeline."

Just then, a young child's voice rang out. "Lord Warlock, my mom and dad worry every day about how the butterfly trees are growing. I don't really know what that means, but could you help them?"

Kronos breathed a sigh of relief. At last, someone had made that wish.

With a wave of his hand, he flew over to the child and said with a smile, "This is the fate that binds us."

Kronos followed the villagers to the place where they were growing their butterfly trees. Looking up, he saw that the trees certainly lived up to their name. Colorful butterflies filled the entire grove. Though humans could not smell a thing, the scent held an irresistible attraction for the butterflies.

Kronos scattered a handful of powder, then cast a "Rapid Growth Spell."

The butterfly trees before him began frantically drawing nutrients from the earth as though they had been dosed with hormones, and everyone watched the trees transform before their eyes.

Originally only as thick as a baby's arm and roughly as tall as a person, they grew into trees over three meters tall and as thick as an adult's thigh in less than three minutes.

This was the ability of the Planter Pathway's Sequence 7, "Harvest Priest." But Harvest Priests could not only accelerate living things' growth and reproduction; they could also induce mutations in plants, making them grow wildly and burst through the earth to attack enemies.

For a Warlock, however, completing that process was much more troublesome. First came the "Rapid Growth Spell" to spur plant growth, then the "Plant Mutation Spell" to use the nutrients the plants had frantically absorbed to induce mutations, and finally the "Plant Manipulation Spell" to control the plants and attack enemies.

Didn't Warlocks seem impressive, able to use the powers of all sorts of pathways? Unfortunately, while the Rapid Growth Spell had a one hundred percent success rate, the other two succeeded only about thirty percent of the time.

After seeing the butterfly trees grow wildly, the villagers knelt before Kronos again, praying incessantly and declaring that Kronos was their true god.

That claim scared the living daylights out of Kronos. The outside world was far too dangerous. People kept elevating a mere Sequence 7 like him to the status of a true god. He wanted to go back to Backlund.

He had originally intended to do a little more acting, but Kronos realized this could not continue. If he kept it up, these villagers might even devise an honorific name for him.

So without another word, Kronos cast an "Invisibility Spell" and made himself scarce.

When Kronos returned to Gner, Gner was shaking with laughter.

"First you were the esteemed Lord Warlock, and now you're the one true god in their hearts. I wonder what you'll become by the time you're done acting?" Gner said, laughing.

Kronos felt rather gloomy himself. "I only thought that people in the mountains had hard lives, so they'd believe in me more readily. I never expected them to take it this far."