Mage? Magic Engineer!

Wine?

A familiar scent instantly enveloped both sides of the battle.

The soldiers of the Southern Countries were still advancing in their phalanxes. But the main force of the heretics they faced also consisted of Knights—a perfect matchup that made the ensuing battle feel entirely natural.

The allied soldiers moved nervously across the wilderness, an unnatural fragrance leaving them feeling intoxicated. The earlier thundering of cannons, the rousing beat of war drums, and the blast of horns had already made their blood surge. Now, after inhaling the wine-scented air, their accelerating hearts pumped it through their entire bodies.

After such high tension, the soldiers’ minds began to grow hazy. The men in the front ranks even saw a person in the center of the battlefield who wasn’t carrying a weapon.

It was a young man standing amidst the bushes. A massive goblet, held high above his head, had to be the source of the fragrance. Though no one could see what the great goblet contained, their sense of smell alone convinced them that it must be a wine of unparalleled quality.

BANG!

Someone fired the first shot at the youth. It was hard to tell if it was intentional or accidental—whether it was an overly tense finger pulling the trigger, or greed compelling the soldier to kill the youth and claim the sweet nectar for himself.

Once one person fired, a dense, uncontrolled volley immediately followed. Yet the youth quickly blurred and vanished, as if the bullets had shattered nothing but an Illusion.

A woman’s cheerful laughter echoed from the center of the phalanx, layered as if it came from more than one person. A distant song began to drift through the air. Its melody was whimsical yet captivating, a free-form tune that only the most brilliant creator could weave after drinking enough mead to escape the shackles of convention.

As if drunk, the soldiers’ steps were no longer firm. They walked with a floating gait toward the spot where the youth had stood. For some reason, what should have been the lowest point in the very center of the valley now seemed to have risen. Everyone was walking uphill, unconsciously ascending.

The woman’s laughter grew crisper, the merriment infecting them all. Their bodies reacted physiologically. And just as they were sure of the unseen wine’s quality, they were certain this chorus of sweet, bird-like voices must belong to beautiful women.

...

Meanwhile, the Holy Knights were forced to halt their charge. They, too, had reached the strange upward slope. Their captain signaled for all to be alert. "We have an unexpected situation! There is an evil presence..."

These pious servants of their god also perceived the strange phenomena. But unlike the many unworthy Clergy who were easily seduced by vice, these men constantly practiced abstinence from worldly desires.

Thus, while these Knights, who radiated a holy aura, could not avoid being enveloped by the strange scenery, they at least did not forget their mission or lose their composure.

At some unknown point, they found themselves on a densely wooded mountain. The path ahead and the road behind had both become mountain trails overgrown with vegetation. The Holy Knights were forced to abandon their horses and proceed on foot.

Amidst the strange singing and laughter, a rustling sound arose.

"Who goes there!" a vigilant Holy Knight demanded, pointing his sword at the source of the sound. Behind him, his brothers raised their consecrated Crossbow Arrows and Lances.

"May the Light be with you, and may Order define you..." The newcomers were also Holy Knights, but their vestments were more ornate, their Holy Artifacts and weapons more ancient. They were clearly from the Eternal City.

These Holy Knights from the Eternal City were stunned to see their "counterparts." "You possess Holy Power, too..."

"Of course, Cultivator. Our piety is beyond question."

The Knight from the Eternal City shook his head. "This matter... can only be left for the Elders to resolve. We assumed you would not be recognized by the divine. Clearly, this situation is more complex than we anticipated." ’This is no ordinary heresy. We must... unite, for now!’

They had all noticed the bizarre transformation of the battlefield. The Holy Knights from the Eternal City had originally planned to use the army of the Southern Countries as bait while they attacked the enemy’s flank. Now, that plan had to change.

"The source is clearly on the summit, where it seems some debauched affair is taking place. The weak-willed mortals have already been bewitched and are now marching heedlessly toward the Illusion, completely lost."

"But we here are all Warriors blessed by the Lord, all steadfast brothers. We can surely dispel this evil."

Though the two groups of Holy Knights were meeting for the first time—and had been on the verge of attacking each other moments ago—they now cooperated seamlessly. They split into two groups. The outer circle of Knights stood guard while the inner circle of Holy Knights took out their personal Holy Artifacts and loudly recited scripture, striving to drown out the decadent music.

The captains of both factions determined that the source of the anomaly was on the mountaintop. They had to go there to conduct a Purification.

The higher they climbed, the sparser the vegetation became. Sunlight bathed them, seeming stronger than on a typical winter day. Even the thick scent of wine seemed to dissipate. ’The Light is shining upon us! It is a Blessing from God!’ This thought gave the Holy Knights even greater confidence.

And so, the two groups advanced toward the summit together.

The youth on the mountain was, of course, Rorschach.

He focused on the changes happening to the goblet. Inside, two Divine Spirits, dead but not gone, were clashing. The two Sacred Artifacts collided violently, yet they also fused, linked by a transformed substance of Transmuting Dust that resembled liquid wine.

According to Hercules, this was the last Wine Holy Chalice left in the world. It was the Wine God’s final ritual vessel, bearing all his will and purpose. Once activated, its power would only grow.

The power of Balan’s Pearl, however, was a gift from Rorschach. With this "seed money," it could fight the final ritual vessel on even terms.

Balan’s Authority of Transformation manifested. The pearl attempted to alter and erase the engravings on the outside of the chalice, but the chalice continuously restored itself. After a brief stalemate, Balan seemed to give up on that contest.

It began to slam furiously against the chalice’s inner wall.

’What the hell? You’re going to use a Physical Attack? Are you worthy of the name "Thoth"?’ Rorschach was both surprised and worried. ’With a body that small and a texture like glass, don’t go shattering yourself...’

But the impacts formed a regular rhythm. Depending on the angle, force, and point of contact, they even produced different notes. A fast-paced percussion joined the free, melodious song of the illusion, and then the entire musical style was transformed.

Rorschach found it vaguely familiar. It was the style of Istani’s greatest minstrel, Freddy! Except this was even more intense, bordering on rock and roll.

"Stop that at once!" The Holy Knights were of a higher caliber; even in full armor, they reached the summit before the regular soldiers. They were shocked to find only Rorschach at the peak—he was neither the madly laughing maiden nor the belting singer. The leader ordered Rorschach to stop the ritual.

"Apologies. We’ve already reached the final step."

Atop the summit, Rorschach was submerged in a light that radiated from within. In truth, what the Holy Knights were seeing was his avatar, coalesced from the Transformation Dust Layer Flow.

Legend tells of the Wine God drinking, frolicking, and singing with women on a mountaintop. A King who despised the Wine God, believing they were engaging in debauchery, sent a great army to capture the madman and his frenzied followers. At the same time, a crowd of hedonists who loved wine and women, believing a blissful festival was underway, also climbed the mountain with joy.

The Holy Knights and the allied army reenacted that ancient scene, with Rorschach’s avatar—this innocent youth—playing the part of the Wine God from the legend. This body, reforged by Divine Power, resonated with the mythological Original Scripture. Together with both sides of the conflict, it formed a grand ritual—a true drama, not a mere play.

Through this ritual, the avatar now met the conditions to bear Divinity and godhood. In other words, it would become the prize fought over by Balan Thoth and the Wine God.

When the light completely engulfed the avatar, Rorschach’s consciousness returned to his true body, hidden in the nearby woods. With mind and body united, he stood ready, grasping Hercules’s Double Serpent Staff.