Chapter 1196 — The Man Without a Surname

Hragor, ruler of the continent of Talrond — it is said that the dragons have three leaders in all, who hold sway over knowledge, technology, and authority respectively. The dragon who rules knowledge is Anqian the Wise; the dragon who rules technology is at present not in Talrond; and the dragon who rules authority is the awe-inspiring Hragor, a primordial dragon who once served the Dragon God and then boldly raised the banner of rebellion, and the foremost of the three primordial dragons besides.

Even though Talrond has now declined, even though the dragons must rely on aid from the Alliance to survive this winter, the mighty and awe-inspiring primordial dragon remains one of the individuals standing at the apex of all mortal nations. So when he heard Hragor introduce himself, even Mojin could not help but freeze for a moment, and only after several seconds did he open his mouth and make a sound: "Ah—well, this really is a surprise."

Then he shook his head: "They told me a camp commander wanted to see me. I never expected someone of your stature..."

"Please forgive me, for I did not wish to attract too much attention — the adventurers have only just gotten used to life in Talrond, and as you know, they are very good at... spinning infinite splendid tales out of a limited set of facts," Hragor said, shaking his head with some helplessness. Then he raised a hand and gestured to a chair across from him. "Please sit, Mr. Mojin. You may relax a little."

Mojin gave the dragon leader before him a somewhat suspicious look, then glanced at the chair, and only then slowly took his seat, while imperceptibly knitting his brows: "So can we talk now? How does a leader like you find the time to come looking for an ordinary adventurer like me in person? Don't tell me you have also believed that story about someone 'pinning the Fire Elemental Prince down in a river of magma and beating him black and blue'..."

"An ordinary adventurer?" Watching Mojin sit down, Hragor could not help raising an eyebrow at his words. "Is that how you define yourself? Are you really just an 'ordinary adventurer'?"

"What else?" Mojin pointed at himself. "I think 'adventurer' is already a fairly apt description for me. I am still different from an ordinary adventurer."

Hragor said nothing for a moment, only gazing quietly at the old mage before him, as though by some means judging certain essences within this "human." His gaze carried the power to pierce through to the truth; even now that the gifts of the gods were gone, he, a former "demigod," could still see many things ordinary people could not. After several seconds of such observation, he finally withdrew his gaze and frowned slightly.

"I have heard that you have lost some of your memories, Mr. Mojin," the former dragon priest weighed his words. "That you do not know your own origins, nor how many years you have already spent out there... adventuring, and that you do not even know the course of your early travels. Is that so?"

"Strictly speaking, it is more than simply losing memories," Mojin thought for a moment. He did not think a ruler like Hragor would have any reason to harm him, and he had never concealed such matters from others anyway, so he answered frankly. "My memories are sometimes chaotic, broken, repetitive, regressive, and sometimes things surface in my mind that I feel should have nothing to do with me at all — I truly do not remember where I began adventuring, nor my parents, my kin, my friends, my family, my homeland... I remember nothing.

"Occasionally I recall fragments of traveling somewhere. I can clearly remember those crossroads, those houses, even the names of certain acquaintances there. But when I try every means to find the places in my memory, I discover that everything is utterly different from what I remember, as though those memories had been processed by a dream. Sometimes I wake up in a strange place, with no memory at all of how I got there, while the people around me tell me about things I supposedly did not long ago, and it sounds as if they are describing a stranger...

"I think I may have been cursed by something — you know, a curse upon the mind and the soul. It most likely has to do with one of my adventures. Perhaps I touched some ancient relic I should not have touched? Or angered some ghost lingering in a tomb? I have tried to solve the problem, to seek out those ancient ruins where I once adventured and lift the 'curse' upon me, but it is not so easy. How can I know where I have been, and how am I to understand the source of the curse?"

Mojin spread his hands to conclude, and Hragor nodded thoughtfully, remarking casually: "That sounds very hard, Mr. Mojin. Your plight invites sympathy."

"I do not much need sympathy — though many people react that way when they hear my story," Mojin's attitude was quite calm. "I was anxious and angry once, too, but after more years than I can count, I have made my peace with it. Compared with a past I can no longer remember, there are still many unknown and novel realms in this world waiting for me to explore, and the various new changes of this age are exciting enough. I am very fortunate that, whatever I may have lost, at least my power and much of my knowledge remain. These things let me live very well even in rather difficult circumstances, and nothing satisfies an adventurer more than that..."

It was an optimism so unreasonable it bordered on absurd, a "free-spiritedness" ordinary people could not comprehend. Hragor did not know whether these were the old mage's true feelings or an "epiphany" of resignation after year upon year of setbacks and blows. He only frowned tightly, weighing something. This hesitant, deliberating manner naturally did not escape Mojin's eyes; the old mage glanced at the dragon leader before him: "Honorable Hragor — I can see that your interest in me is not simply because a memoryless adventurer has stirred up some 'commotion' among the adventurers. Please speak plainly: what is it you want with me?"

"In truth, when we first learned that a legendary powerhouse had somehow ended up in the adventurers' camp, we were merely surprised and curious. The reconstruction of Talrond is heavy with work, and it was not worth my investing too much energy. But soon I heard your name... great strength, the identity of an adventurer, the name Mojin — put together, these elements reminded me of something that happened shortly before the 'Decisive Battle.'" Hragor finally let out a soft breath. As he spoke, he beckoned to the side, and several pages flew through the air from a nearby shelf, landing on the table between them.

"A dragon carrying out a mission on the continent of Loren once brought back some intelligence. She also mentioned a name and an incredible travelogue — oh, this is of course not the original; the original is not in Talrond. This is a small fragment I transcribed from memory, based on the report at the time, but the content should match the original exactly. Take a look, and see whether anything comes back to you."

Watching those pages land before him, the old mage's eyes seemed to tremble beyond his control. A certain Transcendent intuition surged up in his heart, making this powerful old man's heart pound — something he had pursued for so many years seemed truly about to appear, here on this land that had only just unveiled its mysteries. Though he had countless times believed himself prepared, when it truly became possible, his first reaction was in fact to refuse to touch it, to refuse to know.

Yet this sudden impulse of resistance was easily forced down. He waved a hand, summoning those pages into the air before him, and let his gaze drift slowly across them.