Chapter 80
Chapter 80
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 80
Chapter Title: Inverted Waterfall
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[Chapter 79 - Forest Village (3)]
At the facts Irenne revealed, Arsen and Eloise were momentarily at a loss for words. Zisharan, who had introduced herself as the Guardian's agent, was the daughter born between Luden and Irenne.
Hearing that story made it clear how Zisharan had been able to control the villagers so effectively just moments ago.
As the daughter of the Guardian, who was practically the village's protector deity, she must have seemed like someone of high standing to them.
But one unresolved question remained.
"Yet she only ever referred to you as 'Guardian,' Lady Irenne."
At Eloise's question, Irenne gave a wistful smile.
"That child wasn't a mage, so she had to be raised by the villagers from a young age. She always burst into tears whenever she saw me. It wasn't until she grew older and could think straight that we could properly face each other and talk, but by then it was too late to build a bond as mother and daughter."
The tale of a mage who had given birth to a non-mage child hit close to home for Eloise.
A life where she couldn't hold her child or teach them to speak.
A life where she couldn't even approach her child until they grew old enough to understand that their parent wasn't a monster, but merely a harmless mage.
As the future she'd deliberately tried not to dwell on loomed before her eyes, Eloise bit her lip with a pang in her heart.
"When we leave, tell Zisharan a bit about Luden too. She might not have shown it, but that child must be curious about what her father was like."
They shared more stories after that, but Irenne's reactions weren't as dramatic as at first.
Fatigue was etched across her face, and Arsen realized her strength was reaching its limit.
"You seem quite tired. How about resting for today?"
"Ah, if it were up to me, I'd love to keep going, but... I suppose I must. It's frustrating how this old body fails me. Right, the gift. I need to give you the gift."
Irenne closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and spoke.
"Go on out now. Zisharan should be waiting outside—follow her. I've made arrangements for you to receive the gift. I'll explain how to use it tomorrow. I'm just too exhausted today..."
Before she could finish her sentence, Irenne slumped over and fell fast asleep right there. Arsen approached to check if she had passed away, confirming her breathing. Fortunately, it was just exhaustion-induced sleep.
By the time the two emerged from the house a short while later, the green moon had already risen in place of the sun.
Under the moonlight, they saw Zisharan standing with a torch in hand.
Though they'd been told she would be there, Arsen couldn't help but ask at the sight of her holding just the single torch, looking no different from before they entered the house.
"You weren't waiting here the whole time, were you?"
"Of course not. The Guardian gave me a heads-up. She said you'd be coming out soon and told me to meet you."
Knowing the truth now, there was a strange sense of dissonance in hearing her call her own mother 'Guardian.'
Scrutinizing Zisharan's shadowed face under the torchlight, Arsen spotted quite a few traces of Luden in her.
Her unusually thick hair, her large, muscular build—her beard had always hidden it, but now that he looked, her features were quite similar too.
It might just be because he was thinking about it.
"She told me to guide you to the waterfall first. Follow me."
"Yes."
Zisharan silently led the two toward one side.
With the forest ahead, she handed them two small wooden plaques.
"Here you go."
"What are these?"
"They're to help you avoid illusions. The illusions aren't cast directly by the Guardian; they automatically apply to anyone entering. With these, you can escape those natural illusions."
'So they won't work against illusions cast directly.'
After taking the wooden plaques, they headed to the back of the village and entered the forest. Soon, Arsen felt faint moisture clinging to his face.
Eloise was experiencing the same, as she was rubbing her face.
Moments later, an astonishing sight appeared before them.
"This is that legendary..."
"Yes. We call it the holy site among ourselves, but they say it's a topic of conversation in the outside world too."
How could anyone not be amazed by this?
The inverted waterfall that Luden had once described to him—it was right there before their eyes.
A circular lake roughly dozens of meters in diameter, unnaturally perfectly round, surrounded by black pillars at its four cardinal points.
From the center, a massive jet of water was gushing upward.
Some might liken it to a fountain, but two syllables couldn't capture its grandeur.
An enormous volume of water, several meters wide, was shooting hundreds of meters into the sky above.
On a sunny day, countless rainbows would likely arc through the spray from all directions.
The reason such a massive phenomenon couldn't be observed from outside was probably due to the tall trees and the forest's barrier.
"I'd love to see it during the day sometime."
"It's not a place you can enter whenever you want."
Nodding at Zisharan's curt words, the three approached the waterfall.
As they drew near, the roar of the water drowned out their voices.
Zisharan gestured to Eloise, indicating she should reach into the waterfall.
Eloise cautiously extended her hand into the cascade.
After feeling the powerful rush, she touched something long and slender inside the empty space. Despite being in the water, it felt dry and smooth. Gripping it tightly, she yanked her hand back with all her strength.
Zisharan looked surprised at the sight.
What Eloise held was an extraordinarily long staff, about as tall as she was.
The shaft was crimson, with a small crystal embedded at the tip—no other decorations, far from ornate.
Once they'd moved back to where they could hear again, Zisharan spoke.
"I've seen the Guardian use that one. She said it's a precious heirloom passed down through generations of Guardians."
"Yes. It seems like an incredible item. Almost too much to accept."
Eloise said as she lightly stroked the smooth staff.
To her mage's eyes, powerful magic swirled within it.
It rivaled—or surpassed—the shield and helmet they'd obtained from ancient ruins in the past.
"But is this how you normally store artifacts?"
At Arsen's question, Zisharan nodded.
"They say the lake itself is the fruit of powerful magic, so anything they want to preserve long-term goes in there. Without the Guardian's permission, nothing can be retrieved from inside. It's the world's most perfect vault."
Arsen imagined diving to the lake bottom to steal something, only to get caught in the waterfall and launched hundreds of meters up.
Even a knight would struggle to survive that.
"Let's go. I'll guide you to the campsite."
"Ah, hold on a moment."
Stopping Zisharan as she turned to leave, Eloise placed her hand on her soaked robe.
Light flowed from her hand, and the robe, drenched like it'd been dunked in water, began drying rapidly. A drying spell.
She then tidied her hair before personally drying Arsen's wet hair and face.
Fortunately, Arsen was armored, so everything below his face was fine.
Finally, Eloise approached Zisharan, whose leather armor was thoroughly soaked.
Only then did she notice Zisharan flinch and step back, reminding her anew that the woman wasn't a mage.
"Ah..."
"I'm sorry."
Eloise shook her head at Zisharan's apology.
"No, it was thoughtless of me. I usually consider that, but I forgot without thinking."
She'd almost said she'd subconsciously thought of her as a mage because she was Luden's daughter, but swallowed the words, realizing they might hurt Zisharan.
Afterward, the three walked silently toward the campsite.
Amid the mournful chirps of grasshoppers, Eloise mustered her courage and spoke up again.
"I've heard that you're Lady Irenne's..."
"Yes. Her daughter."
Zisharan nodded and confirmed, then asked in return.
"You said you know my father."
"Yes. His name's Luden. I'm not sure if it's okay to say this, but you look incredibly like him."
Since Zisharan was walking ahead, her expression was invisible. She fell silent for a long while without responding.
When she finally spoke, her voice was unexpectedly low and somber.
"You may have already heard, but I'm not on great terms with my mother."
Without waiting for a response from Arsen and Eloise, she continued quickly.
"I was raised among the villagers from childhood and only learned at fifteen that the Guardian was my mother. But she... she was too frightening to see as a mother."
To Zisharan, Irenne—the Guardian of the Great Forest, a mage who wrought miracles with a mere gesture—was not a mother, but something fearsome and mysterious.
Even after several meetings, that perception never changed.
"Things like eating meals together, massaging her shoulders, or chatting over tea like other children do with their mothers—they were impossible. More precisely, the Guardian—my mother—refused. She knew it too. That her daughter saw time with her not as joy, but as a grueling ordeal."
Arsen was surprised at Zisharan confiding such intimate details to people she'd just met, but soon realized that's precisely why she could share it.
As the Guardian's agent and village leader, she couldn't tell the villagers. Only to fleeting outsiders like them.
"I have to confess that learning my father is alive isn't exactly joyful. Even if we met, I have no confidence I could be a loving daughter to a mage father."
Having poured it all out, Zisharan caught her breath, turned, and bowed politely.
"I'm sorry. I got too worked up."
"No, we understand."
Eloise waved it off.
Arsen, fully sympathizing with her situation, simply nodded in agreement without a word.
It was understandable to be emotionally shaken upon learning a father she'd never met was alive.
Especially given her upbringing.
As they resumed walking toward the campsite, Eloise broached the conversation again.
Zisharan didn't feel like "one of the guys" to her. She was Luden's daughter, after all—the man who'd been her mentor and protector in her youth.
"Shall I tell you what Luden was like?"
She worried Zisharan might not want to hear, but the woman nodded readily.
"What kind of man was he? My father."
"Well, he was a good man. A bit rough and gruff, but considerate in his own way..."
On the walk to the campsite, Eloise desperately tried to paint Luden in the best light possible.
Zisharan listened attentively, chiming in with curt affirmations.
By the time they arrived, Zisharan stopped as if this was as far as she'd go and turned.
A smile played on her face—one she rarely wore, making it seem oddly awkward.
"Thank you for the good stories."
"No, thank you for guiding us."
Leaving the awkward smile behind, Zisharan departed.
As Arsen and Eloise entered the campsite, two soldiers stood guard at the clearing ahead, bowing to them.
Arsen left them words of praise and encouragement before heading inside.
A small campfire burned within.
At one side of the fire sat Bazkal, Rino, Anun, and Marun, chatting idly.
Having traveled together for a while, they seemed to have learned how to deal with mages.
All three kept their heads bowed low while speaking, proving it.
Marun waved and called out at the sight of the newcomers.
"Oh, Sir Arsen! Miss Eloise!"
At Marun's reaction, the other three looked up.
"Welcome back, bro? How'd it go?"
"So-so. Let's talk while sitting. Nothing happen here?"
"Nope! Just played with some village kids who came by during the day—nothing else!"
Arsen nodded, collapsing wearily by the fire from exhaustion, with Eloise settling lightly beside him.
Amid the crackling pops of the campfire, Arsen shared the information from his meeting with Irenne.
He glossed over personal matters like the Luden story vaguely—acquaintances, so talks went well, good reward, etc.
When the casual mention came up about the East Bazra Estate Lord's son being detained, Marun asked incredulously.
"Why not just wipe their memories and let them go?"
"Pardon?"
Everyone stared blankly at Marun.
Marun continued, baffled by their reactions.
"You just need them not to know about this purified space where people can live inside, right? Seems the easiest way."
"Is that possible?"
"Of course. We use it every time we migrate..."
Marun trailed off with a sharp intake of breath.
He wore a look of dismay, as if realizing another slip-up.
Arsen considered pressing further but cooperated in changing the subject, given the crowd.
He could guess their use for such magic from this alone, and Marun spilled info like a vending machine under leading questions—no need to grill him now.
Better to pry gently when alone.
"How much can you erase? Any side effects?"
Grateful for the pivot, color returned to Marun's face, and his response was enthusiastic.
"Side effects? Probably none? Never heard of any—ask the expert. Hey! Jeron! Come here a sec!"
Marun shouted toward the mages resting on the other side. Moments later, one approached.
Arsen recognized the face—he'd seen him a few times.
"What is it?"
"You know, that memory erasure spell. That's your specialty, right?"
Seeing Jeron look back in horror, Arsen realized the higher-ups had classified this magic's existence.
To cover his mistake, Marun quickly pressed.
"How far can you go? A month at least?"
The mage Jeron hesitated briefly but nodded under his superior's questioning.
"Depends on the target. Knights are tough—over a month is hard. For average folk, you can push up to half a year if determined."
"Side effects?"
"None that I've heard of."
"What do you think?"
Arsen nodded at Marun's smug expression.
"Let's discuss it tomorrow. Got a good idea."