Chapter 147: The Red Scripture: Luthor D’ Lanthor

Walking through the now quiet tunnels, Ka’z eventually stopped when he noticed a familiar figure standing ahead of him. Lady Zira was waiting in the passage, her eyes watery and her lips pressed tightly together as she struggled to restrain the tears threatening to fall.

She looked as though she had been waiting for him for some time, and Ka’z could immediately tell that she had something important to say. Yet before he could ask, his attention dropped toward the obvious bulge beneath her clothes.

His eyes widened.

"Is that....." he mumbled.

Lady Zira nodded heavily, placing one hand protectively over her stomach. "We planned to call him Toji if he was a boy and Tia if he was a girl."

Ka’z stared at her belly for another moment before a smile slowly spread across his face. He found himself smiling like a fool, and strangely, the sight of that growing life affected him more deeply than he expected.

Before leaving the colony to fight the Ashmork Clan, little things like this had never seemed particularly important to him. He had been focused on becoming stronger, exploring Athedal, learning magic, and eventually building something magnificent for his people. But after witnessing so much death, blood, and terror, something as simple as a child growing inside its mother’s womb had suddenly become precious beyond words.

"I would love it if you were the child’s Godfather when he or she is born... So that you can train them up to be a strong warrior like yourself," Lady Zira said softly.

Ka’z blinked in surprise and looked up to meet her gaze. For a moment, he seemed unsure whether she was being serious, but the warmth in her eyes made it clear that she was.

Without hesitation, Ka’z nodded repeatedly.

"I would love that too... I’ll definitely tell the child the story of how cool his father was and how he saved my life and the entire colony."

Lady Zira laughed, though several tears finally escaped and rolled down her cheeks. "Thank you."

Ka’z stepped forward and gently consoled her, giving her shoulder a reassuring pat before she eventually turned and gestured for him to follow.

"Come with me. There is something else you should see."

Ka’z followed her through the tunnels until they reached her room. The moment he entered, his expression changed. Standing firmly in the room was the charred remains of Tud’or. His body had been preserved in the same position in which he had died, his burned form stiffened almost like a statue. The sight immediately brought everything rushing back into Ka’z’s mind.

Ka’z slowly approached the charred figure and stopped directly before him. His chest tightened as he stared at the remains of the warrior who had changed the course of his life.

For several seconds, he simply stood there without saying anything. Then he lowered himself into a deep bow, holding the position for several moments before slowly raising his head again.

There was resolve in his eyes.

"When I build the village, can we cast this with earth and put it at the center of the village as a monument?" Ka’z asked as he turned toward Lady Zira.

She stared at him in surprise.

"I want everyone who comes after us to know what he did. That way we can inspire younger kobolds to be as brave as him."

Lady Zira’s eyes immediately became watery again. She had never wanted Tud’or to simply disappear into the earth and become a forgotten name spoken only by those old enough to remember him. He deserved more than that.

She wanted his story to survive.

She wanted children who had never met him to know who he was.

She wanted to see young kobolds running around his monument, playing at his feet, while their parents told them stories about the warrior who had sacrificed everything for Vaal’kor.

Without hesitation, she nodded repeatedly.

"Tud’or must not be allowed to die... We will make him immortal," Ka’z said firmly.

Several minutes later, Ka’z exited the room, leaving behind the sad sounds of Lady Zira crying quietly beside Tud’or’s remains. He closed the wooden door behind him and stood in the tunnel for a few seconds, allowing himself to breathe before finally continuing toward his own room.

When he entered, his gaze immediately fell upon the Red Scripture resting on his hay bed.

Ka’z stared at the thick red book for a moment before releasing a tired sigh.

He had deliberately refused to open it during the journey home. There had been too much happening, and he wanted to read it somewhere he could actually relax and give it his full attention. Instead, he had spent much of the journey interacting with the captured artisans.

At first, they had been cold and openly hostile toward him. That was understandable. He had destroyed their home and killed many of their people. But over time, their hostility had gradually softened, especially after Ka’z repeatedly made sure they received food and water whenever the others suggested simply starving them into submission.

They had also witnessed something that had surprised them. Ka’z had kept his promise to Loki.

Even though Loki had been their final great warrior and the man who had stood between Ka’z and the complete destruction of Ashmork, Ka’z had not killed the civilians after defeating him. He had allowed them to leave before burning the village as promised.

The artisans still hated him, and they hated every kobold who had invaded their home, but compared to what he could have been, Ka’z had become a lesser devil in their eyes.

Bam!

Ka’z dropped onto his hay bed and stared at the ceiling for a while before finally reaching over and picking up the Red Scripture. He carefully turned it over in his hands, studying its thick cover before noticing the faded gold letters carved into the front.

"Luthor D’ Lanthor," Ka’z mumbled, his eyes narrowing.

He stared at the name for several seconds.

"I think I’ve heard the name before," Ka’z muttered thoughtfully.

Thankfully, his photographic memory immediately came into play.

Ka’z abruptly sat upright.

"Lanthor... Kingdom of Lanthor! Isn’t that where Kong’gong served as an adventurer after he left the Evergreen Forest?" Ka’z gasped, his eyes slowly falling back onto the journal.

The realization sent another wave of curiosity through him.

Why was the name of the person who owned this book the same as the name of the kingdom?

Unable to hold back any longer, Ka’z carefully opened the first page. The paper was old but surprisingly well preserved, and the handwriting was neat enough to show that whoever had written it had taken great care with every entry. Ka’z’s eyes moved across the first paragraph before he began reading aloud.

"I am Prince Luthor D’ Lanthor, 13th son of the 5th King of Lanthor, King D’ Charles Lanthor... Don’t be mistaken, this is not the crazy ramblings of a spoilt prince. I’m the son of a Concubine and I have no chance to sit on the throne, and honestly, that knowledge comes with great relief.... I don’t have to be a part of the dangerous court politics that has repeatedly claimed the lives of many princes and princesses... My position makes me invisible but also gives me access to the resources to do the one thing I truly love... learning about everything and anything in this world. So I’m writing this, not as some amazing person destined for greatness. I’m writing this as a young man who has played the role of the observer all his life and plans to keep playing that role for the rest of his life, however long that may be."

Huff!

Ka’z gently dropped the journal onto his lap and exhaled loudly, his eyes widened with genuine shock.

"To think what these goblins had in their hands was the journal of a prince of Lanthor... Oh my God, what happened to him," Ka’z mumbled, a hint of fear creeping into his eyes.

From the first page alone, Ka’z had already formed a basic conclusion about Luthor. He had not been a warrior. He sounded like someone who was fascinated by the world and wanted to document everything he saw. That made it entirely possible that Grash had killed him and taken the journal from his corpse along with whatever other possessions he had been carrying.

"Or maybe he just lost it and they picked it up. I can’t rush to conclusions yet." Ka’z shook off the goosebumps and flipped to the next page.

He continued reading.

"Magic is life, or at least that’s what we believe over here, and that’s why those who possess it receive privileges many can only dream of. Unfortunately, my mother is of low birth and a mere courtyard attendant who caught the king’s eye for a brief moment and made me. Her lineage has never birthed someone capable of magic, but even worse, they didn’t have the wealth to attend the prestigious magic academy where those with no talent for magic can be taught the Words of Power. Or the money to purchase the resources nobles have access to, that can turn a talentless Bronze Core child into a capable magus in just a few years. I’m rather fortunate I have access to all of these, but I have no plans of using them because the day I cast a spell is the day my brothers and sisters will see me as a threat and do away with me. I’ll rather remain the destitute prince with no magic but all the resources in the world. That way I can study magic and the world in-depthly and probably share this knowledge to my children. Even if I can’t become King of Lanthor, I will use my knowledge to train children who will become so powerful and knowledgeable in every aspect of life, that nobles of Lanthor cannot ignore them. Where my mother and I failed, they will succeed."

Ka’z revealed a small smile.

"Even the weak dream, and the dream is passed down to their kids... God, I don’t know why the world is so ugly but beautiful at the same time..."

For a moment, he simply stared at the page. Then a familiar panel appeared before his eyes.

[If there is no concept of good, evil cannot exist. Likewise, if there is no concept of evil, good cannot exist. Just like the day makes the night beautiful, the ugliness of life makes its beauty unique... Death makes life valuable... All of these contrasts is what makes the world colorful]

Ka’z stared at the System message and his small smile slowly widened.

He could not deny it.

After everything he had experienced in the past few weeks, perhaps he understood that truth more deeply than he ever wanted to.