NOVEL NEXT 126 – Eastern Cellar
The eastern cellar was, as its name suggested, located in an eastern neighborhood of Trabine. Similar to the library, it was dug directly into the stone of the hill, but unlike Oerix's lair, the entrance went through a single, round hole in the ground.
Div followed Panos as the elder climbed down the ladder leading into the dark underground.
"How do you get anything in and out of this place?" Div asked.
"We simply use a lift, Div. Please focus on the task ahead."
Right, the food stocks had been contaminated by rot. Despite knowing he had nothing to do with this, Div couldn't help but worry he would be accused of sabotage.
It was too perfect. A young student of rot magic, one with monumental reserves of rot-attuned mana. The culprit was all too evident.
Fortunately, the elders didn't seem to suspect him. At least, Panos had assured him otherwise. A ruse, perhaps, but he didn't see a reason for the powerful Ascended Ranks to trick him.
The cellar was deep. Surprisingly deep. The air grew colder with each step. It took them over a hundred to reach the bottom.
When they did, Div immediately took in the smell. Pungent, sharp, intensely fishy, it was so entrenched that he had trouble breathing. The rough stone walls were carved directly into the earth, and the ceiling was so low that Div had to tilt his head to stand upright. The room was barely lit, a single magical torch planted next to Terebus, who was waiting for them.
Next to the old elder...
"Lug?"
He nodded.
"You'll have time to talk later. Come check this out," Terebus said, cutting in.
Div threw a glance at Lugsellos, wondering why his friend was here. Of all places, why had he ended up in the cellar?
Still, Div walked at an energetic pace and stopped next to Terebus. Tearing his gaze from Lugsellos, Div finally noticed that the cellar was packed with rows upon rows of wooden barrels stacked on top of each other.
Terebus had opened one and showed it to Div. "This cellar is used exclusively for salted fish. As you can smell, not the kind of food we'd want to mix with others."
Div peeked into the barrel. It was full of salt, not white but worryingly brown. Terebus had dug up a single fish, and it wasn't looking good.
"Now, a bad batch can happen from time to time. I wouldn't be worried if it was just this one, but I need you to double-check. You should be able to sense rot through the barrels and salt, right?"
Div nodded. He could do that. "It'll take a while to check each individual barrel."
"Then get to work immediately."
Div didn't waste time and got started. He had been complaining about being bored, about not being trusted with preservation work.
In a way, he got what he wanted, even if it was infinitely more tedious than he expected.
There were close to a hundred rows of barrels, stacked two by two, and a few dozen per row.
That was a lot.
He used the barrel Terebus had opened to get an idea of what he was looking for. Rotlife, aggressive, even for rotten fish. It was very active and only slowed by the large amount of salt. Still, it wasn't particularly unusual.
Then he approached the first barrel. He could have blanketed the area with his Rotlife Sense, and he was technically doing it since he never deactivated this skill. However, this was an exercise in futility; he couldn't be precise enough to locate which barrel was contaminated and which wasn't.
Being close allowed him to focus, to cross-reference with his other senses.
"This one is contaminated."
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A pause.
"The one stacked on top of it, too."
Terebus sighed. "That's what I feared. Something isn't right."
"It's not me."
Div said it too quickly. Too firmly. As if a moment of hesitation might make it less true.
For a moment, he imagined what would happen if they suspected him. Would he be thrown out? Trabine was besieged, there was nowhere to exile him again, and—
Terebus looked into Div's eyes. "I know it's not you. Honestly, I'd prefer it if it were. It would make the issue easier to solve."
"He's telling the truth, Div. You don't have to worry," Lugsellos said.
Div nodded slowly, thanking his friend with his eyes.
Terebus clapped his hands twice. "Go on. Check every barrel."
After the first few, Div got the technique down and was able to walk down each row while checking for traces of rot. As he did, everyone's faces darkened.
Nearly all of them were contaminated. It wasn't the only cellar in the oppidum, but every bit of food mattered under a siege. More importantly, if it could happen in the eastern cellar, it could happen everywhere.
Skill leveled up: Rotlife Sense Lv4 -> Lv5
"Panos, did someone unauthorized get in there?"
Panos shook his head. "Not that I know of. The cellars are constantly monitored by trusted people. They didn't report unusual activity."
"Then how? Through the stone? The entire hill is enchanted, there's no way we wouldn't have noticed."
Div half-listened as the two elders argued over the loss of the eastern cellar's stocks.
Something wasn't sitting right with him, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He returned to the open barrel and examined the rotting fish with all his senses.
The smell was drowned in the overbearing scent of the fish brining cellar. Visually, well, it looked like rotting fish. Not the worst one he'd seen. Some white, foamy fungus had grown on sections of the flesh.
Rotlife Sense showed the aggressive rotlife he had noticed earlier: the fungus.
How did this fungus get here? Supposedly, the workers who had prepared these fish cleaned them thoroughly beforehand. As Terebus said, a spoiled batch wasn't unexpected. But all of them? With the same fungus?
There was something fishy about this.
Lugsellos tapped his shoulder. "What do you find so amusing?"
"Nothing." Div coughed, his cheeks reddening.
It wasn't the time nor the place to be making puns.
He focused back on the fish. The rot-attuned mana wasn't behaving strangely.
"It's not rot magic," he whispered, loud enough for the elders to hear him.
Panos turned toward him. "What did you say?"
"It's not rot magic. There's no trace of a spell. Unless it's a method I don't know, which is absolutely possible. But as far as I'm aware, a spell will bring structure to the mana."
Terebus nodded. "That's right. And you say there isn't any here? Let me see."
Terebus put his hands over the open barrel. "I'm nowhere close to good at sensing details for mana types I'm not attuned to, but I agree with your assessment."
"If not rot magic, what else?" Panos asked, more to himself than to others.
Terebus paced around the room, looking for an answer.
Div didn't know. He couldn't know. It shouldn't have happened, yet it did. The fungus shouldn't be there, yet it was. There were thousands of potential explanations in the ocean of magic and skills the world granted its inhabitants, yet none of them came to him.
Unless…
"What if the fish was cursed?"
Terebus stopped dead in his tracks. "Explain."
"I'm not sure, but what if a curse had been implanted inside every fish before they were harvested and cleaned? Then, when the siege started, the mountaineers activated it. It seems too convenient for it to happen now, doesn't it?"
"That crazy bastard Gaumil—he could pull something like this. He's been planning this for so long, why wouldn't he?"
"Gaumil?" Div asked.
Panos tilted his head. "The mountaineer lord. Do you not know who we're fighting?"
"I didn't know his name."
Terebus started pacing again. "That would explain why a few barrels are unaffected. No matter how advanced his mastery of curses is, Gaumil couldn't have gotten to every fish in the Lien."
Panos nodded. "This is just speculation, but it has to be in their flesh."
"We can't even check now," Terebus raged. "It's already been activated, and there are no more fish in the Lien."
He grabbed Div by the shoulders.
"I know I'm asking for the impossible, but can you salvage this?"
Div heard his heartbeat within his chest, pumping blood all over his body.
His Rot Heart.
He might not be ready, lacking technique and experience. But if he couldn't do it, who else?
He was the only rot mage in Trabine. He had to show them what rot magic could do. What he could do. That he wasn't just a dead weight or even a potential danger to monitor.
Saving the eastern cellar would make him an asset.
"I can try. No, I will succeed."
Terebus smiled. "That's the spirit. But don't put too much pressure on yourself. The content of this cellar is all but lost. I won't blame you if you fail."
Perhaps it was his pride speaking, perhaps his bloodline refused to let anyone doubt his control over rot, but Div wasn't happy to hear that.
"I will not fail."