Silsa felt a little dizzy. She never imagined Istani’s Royal Capital would have such a massive garbage heap. And wasn’t it nightti already? Why was it still dusk in Storm City?
There was no aroma of bread in the air, only the faint odor of the garbage heap (even though the Mouse Speakers had cleaned it).
Watching the small, skinny, yet blissfully happy folk, she felt a pang of pity. ’So even a great kingdom of the dynasty has such malnourished subjects,’ she thought. ’Who, then, is eating all the grain they grow?’
The sight of Elves, Dwarves, humans, and other unknown races mingling harmoniously and celebrating was also a real eye-opener for her.
But there were discordant notes, too. Nearby, a young human male was sinisterly stirring a large cauldron, from which an eerie red light would occasionally flare up. It was a terrifying sight.
Silsa was reminded of the legends elders told to scare children, and she consciously kept her distance from the strange human.
And she was right to be wary—the Elf girl was looking at Rorschach. He was hard at work blending a large cauldron of brown Potion. The bubbles that periodically rose to the surface released a tallic, bloody scent, making him look just like an old witch from a fairy tale.
He was currently working with the Mouse Speakers to create the crudest "Magic Horns" in history:
First, Rorschach converted a minor Trick, the Amplification Technique, into a Magic Array and carved a master plate. Then, two Mouse Speaker assistants would lift the plate, coat it with Alchemy Ink, and—CLANG—stamp it onto a sheet of old newspaper. The job was done.
Since Alchemy Potions couldn’t be found in the Shadow Land, Rorschach had devised a genius solution: he would first heat a Living Water Body until it was inert—as long as it didn’t boil, the microbial remains within could still store and conduct small amounts of Magic Power. Then he would squeeze in frog’s blood to provide nutrients and restore so activity. Finally, while stirring the mixture, he would use a tal rod to infuse it with his own Magic Power.
And thus, a temporary, high-performance Alchemy Ink was born!
The Magic Array’s structure was enhanced with topological techniques learned from Poincare Great Mage. By aligning it with the pre-designed marks on the newspaper, rolling it up would connect all the circuits perfectly. A near-zero-cost "Magic Amplifier" was complete. Rorschach estimated the temporary Potion could power the minor Trick’s amplification for up to two hours continuously.
"You’re going to all this trouble just to make horns?" Caroline’s face twisted as she watched hundreds of half-finished horns being produced. Once Rorschach’s second batch of Potion was ready, they could print thousands more. The Mouse Speaker Tribe’s accumulated wealth of several years was being squandered.
The Rorschach who had figured out the Water Creation Skill from the Fireball Skill was back!
She watched as the little folk happily took a sheet, rolled it into a horn, and created a trendous amount of noise. They even glued together a horn array to serve as a sound system for a Minstrel. "Couldn’t we use this technology to create more... offensive Magic?"
"You’re right, Teacher, but the Magic Power in the ink and the carrying capacity of the newspaper are nowhere near enough to provide the activation power for offensive Magic. However, we can provide so help to the Rebel Army. Let’s make new plates. Stop printing the Amplification Technique."
"Besides, our coming conquest is a cognitive war. By getting the residents of the Shadow City’s Core Area and the orderly will of the Shadow Land to acknowledge the Mouse Speaker Kingdom and its expansion, we will weaken the power the Marquis wields. Therefore, horns are more effective than swords or Fireballs. Let others fight the propaganda and cognitive battles; we’ll be the ones to crack the toughest nut."
Caroline reluctantly accepted Rorschach’s plan and helped carve the master plates for the new Magic Arrays.
Silsa and the others ford up at the foot of Garbage Mountain, gnawing on frog legs and listening to off-key songs. Soon, each squad was issued a stack of newspapers. Soone told them these were... Scrolls?
Dark Vision Scrolls that only lasted for two minutes—but each squad got five of them.
Invisibility Technique Scrolls that failed after three seconds—but they also got five of those.
Dizziness Skill Scrolls that weren’t even guaranteed to knock out a mouse—still five per squad.
The Gray Elves had never fought such a well-supplied war, nor had they ever seen such pathetically cheap Scrolls. The newspapers were from years ago and had grown brittle; they had to be handled with extre care when folded.
"To use them, just tear off any corner to activate it. Don’t tear off too much, or you’ll rip the circuit! We’ve run out of newspaper, so so squads are getting scrolls made of tree bark—you’ll have to use a bit of force!" Benedict was also using a "Magic Horn" to shout, the only way to be heard over the din of the Mouse Speakers and Freddy singing and dancing.
He should have felt ashad, but for so reason, he didn’t. When the Gray Elves were left dumbfounded that the "newspaper Scrolls" actually worked, Benedict even felt a bit of a thrill.
"Where is this? Aren’t we supposed to be in Storm City?" the Gray Elf Commander asked, finally coming to his senses and realizing the crucial question. He spat a frog bone to the side and questioned the representative of the Storm City resistance.
After the seal was broken, a connection was established between the Elf Holy Land and the ruins on El Island, specifically at the Stone Array the Rebel Army had entered. Following Rorschach’s instructions, Benedict contacted the resistance forces in both Storm City and on El Island and arranged for the Cloak Team to be brought here.
"Don’t be anxious. After your uprising began, the organization in Storm City suffered retaliatory persecution, and the Kingdom’s powerful navy has blockaded all the ports. This is the only path we can take now. This place is called the Shadow Land. In a sense, it’s the underground of Storm City."
"But to enter Storm City through here, there is one final obstacle—a Marquis whose strength is comparable to that of a Great Mage."
This only made the commander more anxious. "With such a powerful expert on guard, how are we supposed to get through? And what does this have to do with that... Mouse Kingdom?"
"Well... you can think of it this way: the upcoming operation is a massive ritual. We just have to do as we’re told, and once it’s complete, the Marquis’s power will be greatly weakened, and he will no longer be an obstacle."
The commander was skeptical, but with things having co to this, he had no choice but to follow orders. This was always a long shot, a move the Rebel Army hadn’t even discussed with the Reconstruction Council. According to the Rebel Army’s high command, the three hundred and one warriors were just a desperate gambit in a stalemate. If it succeeded, great. If not, they were to preserve their strength and retreat.
...
After they had used up all the newspaper, stripped all the bark, and drained every frog near Garbage Mountain of its blood before eating it, the newborn "Mouse Speaker Kingdom" imdiately began its conquest with all the clamor of gongs and drums, starting from its Royal Capital, Garbage Mountain.
The Jiaomao Peak District was the first to be conquered. Since the soldiers of the Old Empire had already been dealt with, the other residents just stared numbly as the strange procession passed by. Residents whose ears hadn’t been burned off could hear the Mouse Speakers singing at the top of their lungs. Because they generally had poor diction, one had to listen several tis to make out the words:
"We sing aloud with cheer today,
And drink the cool and pleasant wine!
For soon I must be on my way,
So let our clinking glasses chi!
Mouse Speaker Kingdom,
We’re marching on,
To the Shadow Land, the Shadow Land!"
Then, an ugly but enormous flag was hung from the bell-less bell tower. Residents who still had their eyes could all see the image painted on it: a bat with spread wings, clutching a great hamr.
For so reason, so residents actually joined the singing procession, following along, singing and dancing as if they were possessed.
The Count of the Semi-subrged Area saw how imnse the procession was and, believing a real army had arrived, imdiately sent an envoy to secretly surrender. He was willing to join the Mouse Speaker Kingdom and free all the Mouse Speaker slaves in the Semi-subrged Area, on the condition that he be enfeoffed as a Duke. If they failed to defeat the Marquis, however, they were to pretend he had never said a thing.
With a grand wave of his hand, Singrev approved!
The new Kingdom’s flag was never hung over the Semi-subrged Area. Instead, it ended up in the Count’s train car, because he happened to be in need of a new bedsheet.
After hanging a flag in the Ancient Ruins Area as well, the grand procession—led by a human Mage, Elf troops, and a mushroom-headed Minstrel—finally advanced on the Marquis’s base in the Core Area. In the na of Singrev, the first King of the Kingdom, they declared war!
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