Kilian did not move immediately to investigate.
Instead, he remained motionless, watching the small house from a distance, hidden behind a rock covered in snow and moss hardened by the extreme cold at that altitude.
The thin air pressed on his lungs with every breath, but he did not react; his eyes were fixed on the solitary building before him.
He had no intention of making contact with his target before obtaining more information.
If he made a single mistake, he could end up dead — this mission had the potential to be a great success or a great failure.
The current intentions of the Technique God were a mystery. So Kilian simply watched.
Silently. Patiently.
Waiting for his target to appear.
With the Hazywalker Cloak, combined with his stealth techniques and other magical concealment items, Kilian was relatively confident he could remain hidden — as long as he did not display open hostility.
---
The number of people to whom Rygar had revealed anything about the future did not reach ten. And Kilian was one of them.
He did not know many details. Nor did he need to.
Kilian was one of Rygar's most loyal subordinates — and his serious personality made him treat his leader's orders as absolute.
Since he was a child, he had resolved to follow him with all his heart. He felt that Rygar would accomplish great deeds around the world, both for the Beast Race and for himself.
And the nearly twenty years he had spent following Rygar had unquestionably proven he was right.
So, when Rygar told him information about the future and gave him this mission, Kilian did not question it.
He simply thought about doing his best to carry it out.
His objective was simple. Understand Technique God Laplace and investigate his intentions.
The Technique God was an isolated eccentric. He was the Dragon half of Laplace — the half that inherited all the martial knowledge and the Touki ability of the Dragon Race.
Unlike the unshakable hatred that Demon God Laplace carried against the 'Human' Race, Technique God Laplace retained a vague memory, the will to defeat 'God'.
Within him existed an unrelenting desire to refine his martial techniques, teach his arts and create new ones — with the ultimate goal of developing a technique capable of killing God.
Obviously, he was incomparably powerful.
Rygar had said that the Future Guide claimed he was superior even to Demon Laplace and the Fighter God in combat.
His techniques were above everyone and everything. There were theories that Orsted had learned to fight mainly from the Technique God — although there was no confirmation.
These were the only relevant known facts about him — the result of countless investigations from the future Kingdom of Gaia.
Unfortunately, in that future, the main target of this espionage was dead.
When the Technique God came into conflict with the Kingdom of Gaia, the Kingdom had already been flourishing for many years, far more powerful than in the current era.
Even so, the appearance of that dangerous adversary was an unexpected surprise.
Together with Laplace, Perugius Dola, his Twelve Spirits and a small elite army of Asura ambushed the Beast God in Tinaver.
The future Kingdom of Gaia eventually managed to discover Asura's intentions — and even understand Perugius's personal motives behind the attack.
But the Technique God remained an enigma.
He simply appeared alongside the enemies.
Without announcing his presence.
Without speaking his name.
Without questioning, without declaring any motive.
He simply moved his blade — with intent to kill.
It was only thanks to the problematic union between the Armored Dragon Perugius, a God-level mage in Summoning and Barrier Magic, and the overwhelming Technique God that even the invincible Beast God nearly fell.
And, according to the records, the victory that followed was only possible by pure luck — the Technique God did not expect Rygar to resurrect almost immediately after his death with God-level Healing Magic.
After returning to life, Rygar used Doomsday and Sköllvindr to kill the Technique God definitively.
But it was a bitter victory.
When Rygar sent Kilian on this mission, he left two very clear instructions.
If the Technique God seemed hostile, senile or some kind of insane madman, he should investigate from afar, discover as much as possible and then retreat decisively.
But, if Laplace showed traces of cordiality or kindness… then Kilian should, with extreme care, establish contact.
The reasons for the Technique God's future attack were unknown. Therefore, Rygar was being pragmatic.
If it were possible to obtain an alliance — or even friendship — with that man, it would be the best alternative. Replacing a terrible enemy with an ally before fate was fulfilled was the ideal solution.
After all, the Rygar of the future had even died once at his hands.
This confidence in approaching him only existed because Oldgar believed the Technique God's attack had been the result of Hitogami's machinations.
With that in mind, Kilian waited.
---
The small house had a modest garden, with fruit trees and some vegetables planted in short rows. Nothing exuberant, very simple.
The residence itself was made of wood, built simply. Behind it, there was a huge dark cave.
He did not feel anything coming from that residence. No smell, no sound, no presence.
But he did not find it very strange; this was the home of the Technique God. If it were ordinary, it would be shocking.
Approximately half a day passed. The sun was already rising when the wooden door creaked softly — and a man stepped out.
Kilian held his breath and forced his heart to steady.
Huuuu…
The man had silver hair that shone in the sunlight. His golden, reptilian eyes were deep and luminous. His face was flawless — inhumanly beautiful, clean and without a single imperfection. Two discrete fangs emerged when his lips moved.
He wore a wide white cloak, absolutely clean. His skin, although mostly human, had sparse scales.
And on his back, the most unmistakable mark, a pair of folded wings.
Kilian needed nothing more to confirm.
Before him stood the First Place among the Seven World Powers.
The legendary Technique God, Laplace.
An existence that many would only hear of in legends — and yet, would not even know his true name or story.
Kilian felt his heart ripple, but contained his own emotion and remained watching.
Laplace walked to the garden calmly, carrying something similar to a handmade watering can.
Each step was light and unhurried.
He watered the plants carefully. He watered the vegetables. The fruits.
All in silence.
The expression on his face was serene.
When he finished, he raised his eyes — and looked in the general direction where Kilian was hiding.
For a moment, the warrior's heart almost exploded.
But he did not move. Nor did he breathe.
He was ready to flee immediately — if necessary.
But Laplace only looked away and headed for the cave behind the house, leaving the watering can beside the door.
---
And so seventeen days passed.
His routine repeated.
Laplace went out, watered the plants, glanced at some fruit here and there.
One day, he picked some. On all the others, he only watered. Then he would enter the cave and disappear in there for hours — sometimes days — doing something Kilian could not discover.
Then, he returned to the house. And the next morning, he repeated the cycle.
Kilian, for his part, endured the cutting cold, the sudden snowstorms, the mountain winds and the thin air.
It had already been two months since he entered the mountain range, completely alone.
No conversation. No voice besides his own thoughts.
It was the kind of test that would destroy the sanity of many people.
But that was one of the reasons he had been sent; his mind was firm and unshakable.
Observing the smallest details, he gradually formed a profile of his target.
Until, on the seventeenth day, something changed.
Laplace left the house as always.
He watered the plants. He picked a yellow fruit from one of the trees.
And then, without warning…
He began walking toward Kilian.
All the warrior's senses buzzed.
His body instinctively tried to pull back... but he could not move.
His muscles were heavy. His mind slowed for a moment.
It was like… sleep?
That was impossible. He was under the effect of some strange technique.
Laplace approached until he was only a few steps away.
And then he smiled — a simple, pure, friendly smile.
"Hey," he said, in a light and warm voice. "How long do you plan on staying there standing?"
He tossed the fruit.
Kilian caught it reflexively. The instant his fingers touched the smooth skin, his body began to respond again.
He could move once more.
Laplace smiled like a simple man offering food to a tired traveler — with no malice, no arrogance.
Kilian felt his mind spin looking for an explanation.
How had he been discovered? When? How had he located him so perfectly?
But now there was nothing to be done. The cloak would not help him anymore.
He took a deep breath. He removed the Hazywalker Cloak with one movement.
And, with absolute seriousness, declared:
"Lord Technique God Laplace, it is an honor to meet you personally. I hope you will forgive my rude intrusion."
Now, there was no turning back.
He could only go with the flow.
---
The events that followed after being discovered were... hard to describe. It was so unexpected that Kilian was still trying to process it.
But the end result was that he was sitting in a simple chair, inside the Technique God's small wooden house.
Face to face with Laplace.
On the table, two cups. Steam rose slowly — a light herbal aroma filled the air.
The Technique God was drinking tea. Calmly.
Kilian was far from relaxed; he had ended up entering the target's house. Now, there he was, seated before one of the three most dangerous beings in the world.
Laplace sipped the tea with elegance, then broke the silence:
"So… what brings you?" His tone was light, almost amused. "I must admit, this place is not exactly accessible. And since you stayed watching for so many days, I imagine you came to meet me!"
Kilian kept a serious expression, but inwardly was in shock.
He had been prepared to face an implacable monster, a warrior fanatic for combat, perhaps even an unscrupulous assassin.
But the man before him… seemed like an eccentric uncle, almost friendly.
Breathing discreetly, Kilian decided to answer honestly, to some extent.
He did not dare lie in front of the Technique God, who might have all kinds of mysterious techniques.
"I am here to investigate you, sir. To determine your intentions and, if possible, form a formal alliance… or friendly ties."
Laplace raised an eyebrow. He took another sip of tea before answering:
"Hmmm. I understand. Although I must say… you seemed a bit too cautious for someone seeking friendship," he chuckled softly, calmly. "You know, some might be quite offended to have their home watched like that."
Cold sweat ran down Kilian's neck.
But before he could formulate an excuse, Laplace smiled openly and finished:
"Fortunately for you, I became more interested in that technique you were using!"
Kilian froze. Then he blinked, confused.
"A… technique?" he tried to keep his voice neutral. "I cannot imagine that something I am using could be useful to you. May I ask for clarification?"
In Kilian's mind, only one possibility made sense: it must be a joke.
He was good, yes — but there were levels in this world.
Being compared to legendary monsters was FAR beyond him.
Laplace, however, leaned forward, eyes shining with interest.
"You may be below still, of course. But what interests me is not your power — but the technique itself. It was not you who created it, right? But the intention behind it… ah, that is wonderful. The person who taught you must have reached a remarkable level. I want to learn it."
Silence.
Kilian finally understood. For someone like Laplace, seeing the structure of a technique was as simple as breathing.
And that technique was a creation of Rygar, an equally monstrous genius.
Laplace's gaze softened even more.
"Naturally, I'm also willing to teach some techniques in exchange. So —" he raised his cup in a casual toast — "I can accept your invitation."
Kilian blinked.
"Invitation?"
Laplace smiled as if it were the most obvious thing in the world:
"Of course. Let's be friends!"
It was… surprisingly easy.
"Very well, Lord Laplace," he replied, keeping a respectful tone. "I will inform my Leader of your intentions. I believe he will be extremely pleased to exchange martial knowledge with you."
"Great!" Laplace replied, seeming excited.
After that, Kilian began asking questions. He still had to confirm his target's intentions and personality.
And Laplace answered, and also asked his own questions.
Not everything, of course — but enough to provide valuable information. Kilian memorized every detail, to later record everything via the Magic Word.
Until, in a casual moment, Laplace said:
"Oh, yes. It would be perfect if you stayed here for the next twenty years. That way I can study this Technique of yours in more depth. The Beast God Style is fascinating."
"I appreciate it, but I must respectfully decline."
"Decline?" Laplace blinked. "Oh, that wasn't a request. It was a statement."
Eccentrics were terrifying.
It took time — much diplomatic effort, patience and persistence — but he finally managed to convince Laplace to let him go.
Just as Rygar had planned, Kilian handed a communication device to the Technique God before departing.
And then, after three long days, he finally left Dragon's Roar Mountain.
-----
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