Time (1)

[Main Quest: Time]

Main quests branch in many directions. An independent quest might lead into a main quest, or a main quest might spawn independents.

However, main quests are always tied to the core framework of the story.

"……."

I surveyed my surroundings. The darkness hung thick as fog, and the ground was littered with shattered ice crystals that crunched underfoot with every step.

"Hm."

First, I checked my body's condition.

The sudden plummet had left me with considerable injuries. Without Iron Man, my entire frame would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠have been pulverized.

"A nuisance."

I wrapped Duct Tape around the wounded areas for first aid. Bleeding stopped in an instant, and the bone-deep ache faded swiftly.

Among Duct Tape's myriad uses, healing was one. In ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this era where recovery spells had gone extinct, it was more than satisfactory.

Next, I pulled out the map. It was the one a soldier had given me before I arrived here—originally a mundane chart of the northern region, not this crevasse.

Yet my Midas' Hand imbued the very concept of a "map" with magical properties. And in a place like this—where ambient mana surged palpably—my available mana reserves swelled meaningfully.

Combined with the staff's mana...

Even in Deculein's body, expending five thousand mana for a miracle was feasible.

Level 5 Midas' Hand—five thousand mana invested—wielded power on another plane from level 4.

It was a quirk of this world's lore. Numbers like 5, 10, 15, 20—the pleasing multiples of five—marked thresholds, realms unto themselves.

Krzzzzzt—!

Sparks erupted from my grip. A fleeting bolt of lightning pierced the gloom, illuminating the area.

The mana surged into the map, transforming the ordinary paper into a pulsing blue artifact.

It was little different from a minimap in any other game.

Level 10 was frankly impossible, but five thousand mana yielded this extraordinary utility.

I examined the map. The pitch-black expanse was now detailed minutely. And thanks to its "path-reading" effect, a red line guided my way.

I followed the map's directions.

Crunch— crunch—

Each step ground what sounded like cookie crumbs beneath my boots.

"……?"

And so, enduring the cold—or perhaps the darkness itself—with Iron Man, I pressed on until...

I spotted a rising glow ahead.

A crystalline tree, blue and radiant.

"So this is it."

A related scenario surfaced abruptly. A memory, long dormant, unfolded.

I approached.

I knew little of this main quest itself, but the Time Sanctuary played a pivotal role in the story's progression.

First off, Time was the sanctuary crafted by Archmage Demakan upon his retreat from the mortal world. Built with his brother Murkan, cousin Rohakan, and disciple Idnik—a gift to the next generation.

"……."

I touched the crystalline tree. Its pulsing blue surface bore the names of Time's members.

I scanned them one by one.

Familiar, renowned names all.

But as my gaze drifted lower, one crookedly engraved entry gave me pause. A single name stood out.

"……Ifrin Luna?"

An incomprehensible name.

Dismissing it as a prank felt unproductive, and that scrawl was no easy imitation. Nor could Ifrin have arrived here before me...

Then—

—Professor?

A voice rippled like a pebble in a pond. My eyes widened.

Ifrin's voice—from some future moment I'd heard once before.

"You……."

—Is that really you, Professor?

"……."

I scanned the surroundings. No one. Just the crystalline tree pulsing blue.

Yet Ifrin's voice persisted.

—Will you answer me?

"……Yes."

I replied curtly. A sigh of relief followed—pure, heartfelt.

—Phew…… Thank goodness. Really, thank goodness…….

Her face was invisible, but I could picture it: hand on chest, exhaling long and slow—whooo— whooo—.

Soon, she chuckled softly.

—Curious, aren't you? How this all came to be?

"Indeed. As a mage."

—Heehee. Yes…… Ta-da! I planted a fragment of the leftover kaidejite from dismantling Lokralen here.

Fragmentary words. But I grasped the gist.

Future Ifrin, freed from Lokralen alongside future me, had returned unscathed—no mental trauma or otherwise—and planted kaidejite in this Time crystal tree to manifest "random time."

Or some such scenario.

"Yet your form remains unseen."

—Yes. I couldn't risk repeating Lokralen's fallout. But with you…… No, even so, my selfish wish to talk at least once led me to embed kaidejite here, creating this one-dimensional 'spacetime share.' Cost me about ten years of lifespan, I reckon?

I shook my head.

Ten years' life. She said it jokingly, but it was likely true.

Even an archmage would need such a toll to conjure this "magical space."

"How did you know I would come."

Ifrin answered promptly.

—You told me. You, Professor.

I stood still, staring beyond the tree.

—You told me, so I waited.

An empty cavern, devoid of any soul.

Her damp voice settled like a lyric.

—That's all there is to it.

Clop clop—

The northern dawn, stars thick overhead. A cozy blanket of night sky, yet air that could shatter with cold. Ifrin and Sophien raced through it.

Clop clop—

No—the horse bore them both.

The imperial steed, bestowed the rune-word name "Teragon." He advanced with care for the two women atop him. Even Ifrin, prone to horse-sickness, felt no nausea.

"Here it be, Your Majesty."

Ifrin pointed; the horse slowed. Astonishingly intelligent beast.

"Here, you say."

"Aye, so it be."

A meteor should fall nearby. Per the documents, at least.

"Very well."

"Yes, Your Majesty. Pray wait a moment."

Ifrin conjured two rocking chairs with Creation for a clear sky view, plus a windbreak against the chill.

"We sit and wait, aye."

"Cease that speech henceforth. A touch less formality suits thee."

"……Yeees~ Your Majesty."

Ifrin mimicked a minister's diction from some book or play. Sophien found it cute at first—now merely tedious.

"Ah, right."

As Sophien sat, Ifrin dug into the earth and planted a seed. Hardy roclock tree, cold-resistant.

"Done!"

Now they could gauge time's passage. In the future, it'd be a full tree.

"Clever notion. Well done."

"My thanks!"

Ifrin bowed brightly and took the seat beside her, counting inwardly.

One…….

Two…….

Three…….

Four…….

Five…….

Slow but precise, she reached ten.

A streak of starlight flickered afar.

"Ah! That be it!"

"I see it."

Spot on. No margin for error—the meteor plummeted, comet mana erupting in a blaze.

A beam pierced Ifrin's wide eyes.

Shwooooaaaa—!

Star and sky mana flooded the world.

Ifrin closed her eyes slowly, surrendering to the buoyant lift...

"……Gasp!"

She opened them again.

"Wha……."

Chirp chirp— chirp chirp—

Groundsong of birds. Sunlight stabbing her eyes.

The future. Ifrin was certain. It felt right.

"Hm. Marvelous."

"……!"

Not her voice—another's. Ifrin whirled, stunned.

Sophien stood there, arms spread.

"How fares it? I followed thee."

"Whoa…… Thought it was just me!"

"Hahaha. Luna."

"Yes?"

Sophien laughed heartily, pointing behind.

"First, behold yon."

Ifrin turned—gasped. The roclock tree towered enormous.

"Whoa! The tree—"

"Nay, not the tree. The item laid there."

"……?"

Ifrin glanced downward slantwise. A wand lay near the roots.

Preservation and Cleanliness woven into its form—obvious preparer.

"Ehehe~ Professor!"

Ifrin dashed, snatched the wand. A paper fluttered down.

"?"

A note. Likely future Deculein's message to her present self. Ifrin blinked, reading.

Whiiiish…….

Wind stirred. Ifrin pinned her tousled hair, read on.

"Return, what."

Not 'til she saw his face.

Ifrin inspected the wand closely.

"……What's this now."

Strange script on the shaft—hieroglyphic, eerie.

Then Sophien spoke.

"Soon thou'lt know. Time favors thee—heed and strive ever."

"Eh?"

Ifrin turned; Sophien smirked.

"Rune script upon the wand. Thereby, it rivals any artifact."

"……Ah."

"Deculein left thee a fine gift."

Sophien clasped hands behind back, eyed the wand. Ifrin instinctively tucked it away.

The emperor burst laughing at her innocence.

"Hahaha. Aye, Luna. Deculein seems absent. Or refuses thee audience."

Ifrin's face fell, on the verge of tears.

"Shall we tour the future together?"

"……."

"What, loath? 'Tis the imperial proposition."

Ifrin, cheeks puffed, gazed up. Twiddled fingers.

"I wish to seek the professor."

"……."

Sophien's expression stiffened briefly, then softened to a smile.

"No helping it. Very well! Ho, Teragon!"

Neeeigh—!

The horse appeared afar—the same Teragon. Ifrin startled.

"Wha, how? He came to the future too? How?!"

"How? Speak not so. Ask little, mount. Time presses to find Deculein."

"……Ah, yes!"

Sophien vaulted atop; Ifrin settled behind.

Neeeigh—!

A bolder cry than before.

More macho now, Teragon bolted the instant they mounted.

……The Time Sanctuary.

I surveyed the mystical void, conjured table and chairs. Repayment came unexpectedly.

—Ah, thanks. Table and chairs just appeared.

"……."

Meant for my seat, but whatever.

I made another chair, sat opposite. She was unseen, but her voice rang clear.

—Are you before me now?

"Yes."

—Whoa. Amazing.

"I find thee more wondrous, crafting such a space."

—Ehehe~ Whose disciple am I?

I imagined her childlike grin, shook my head.

"Ifrin. How fares that place."

—Thanks to you, Professor, well enough.

"Yet I seem absent there."

Were I present, she'd not speak of "wanting one talk."

—……Yes. True.

Ifrin sighed in reply.

—Present me finds it agonizing. If only one more meeting. Face to face with you…… Could altering future or past allow it?

"No."

I cut it short, firm.

Utterly impossible—nay, forbidden to attempt. Magical taboo explicit.

"Even if future shifts, no hope for our meeting. Lokralen dismantled post thy timeline. Alter it with Herculean toil? 'Twould not be thy world. To change future, alter past from future—but no mage revives the absent from past."

What bond future me forged with her, I knew not. Nor what befell that future. Nor what would.

Timelines misaligned.

Thus her tender longing eluded me—and futures never changed.

If I died there, or "departed" to reality...

Whatever—

—……Damn!

Thud—!

A massive quake shook the floor. Likely Ifrin's magic.

"Ifrin. Destroying the ground, are we."

—Not me! Timing's coincidence. As you say, Professor—how interfere in that past with far-future magic? Nonsense!

Voice tinged irate. I countered calmly.

"Then?"

—Likely foes swarm you. Monsters solely yours to face. Time's initiation rite, say.

I eyed the crystal's right face. Unbeknownst, beasts had gathered aplenty.

Grrrlll…… Krrrlll…….

Tongues flicking, eyeing me filthily.

Yet they dared not approach, lurking afar—the crystal's magic barring entry, no doubt.

"No issue."

—Really?

"Planned to linger here a week regardless."

Factoring this space's mana pool boost and recovery amp, a week was ample.

—Perchance…… for me, Professor?

"No."

Not in the least.

To infuse all gear—suit included—with Midas' Hand to level 5.

—……As expected, no empty words. True. Hee~ Indeed.

I drew a Necksteel blade, awaited mana fill. The red-eyed lurkers irked, but they'd be cleared in a week.

"Ifrin. Naught for a mage to do."

Awaiting recovery, I asked. Silence.

"Ifrin."

Again—gruff reply.

—You bade me change naught. Future. Nay, past.

"……."

—Then I've ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠no role. Just lost my life's purpose…….

Sulky tone. I shook my head.

"Unexpected."

—Hm? What's unexpected?

"That thou obeyest so well."

—…….

Conversation halted. Speechless, it seemed.

Then—five thousand mana full.

Courtesy this crystal. +300% recovery? Unheard-of performance.

Anyway.

I channeled all mana into the Necksteel with Midas' Hand. One condition added.

Attack specialization.

—!

Mana blazed through veins, surged outward in frenzy. Flow embedding wholly in the Necksteel.

"Hm."

Change evident. Shaft gleamed blue-green.

—Professor~ What was that?

Ifrin timely queried. I composed myself.

"Matters to attend, but mana recovery first. Ask what thou wilt meanwhile."

—……Heehee.

She laughed—mocking? Adoring? Latter irked more.

She said:

—Professor. I know all there is to know.

"Arrogant."

—……Ah, retract! One thing I know not.

I toyed with the Necksteel, tested via Telekinesis. Razor keenness, space-rending.

—I know not you, Professor. Still.

Her words halted me. I stared opposite her presumed seat.

"Bored?"

—No. No, Professor. Too happy. Happy enough to cry now.

"Seemest bored. Amuse thyself with this."

I conjured a cube onto the table. Placed here, it'd reach any future.

"Received?"

—……Yes. Cube appeared.

"Play."

—Play what…….

Grumble-like. Then silence. No more words.

Or could she not?

Occasional breaths only—like dew-kissed leaves quivering.

—…….

Crying, perhaps. I ignored.

Emotions one resolved alone.

No forbidding tears stayed them, nor commanding smiles birthed them.

"Trait takes well."

I focused solely on mana recovery and Midas' Hand…….