Chapter 100
Chapter 100
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 100
Chapter Title: The Second Heart (3)
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The space in front of them flipped, and Principal Krava Kratir of Phileon Academy appeared. All eyes from the students turned toward him.
Ronan paid no mind and kept peering at Adeshan's ankle. Krava Kratir furrowed his brow upon seeing the pair's state.
"...Did this old man interrupt an important moment, by any chance?"
"Yes."
Ronan nodded without hesitation. At least the old-timer had some sense. What could be more important than this right now? Adeshan's face turned deathly pale.
"R-Ronan. What are you saying...!"
"Hold still."
"Hoho... I don't know what's going on, but take your time."
Krava Kratir stroked his beard and chuckled. Ronan did just that. The roots clinging to Adeshan's leg were made of sparkling mana.
'No doubt about it. That's Dolan kid's ability. How the hell did this manifest?'
Ronan recalled Dolan's aura, which bound limbs and weighed down the body. It was incomparably weaker than the original, but unmistakably the same power.
'Copied his aura? Mine?'
He could hardly believe it, but it was reality. The moment he tried to test it again by standing up, a sudden dizziness shook his vision.
"...Huh?"
Extreme fatigue crept up his limbs. Only then did Ronan realize that the mana filling the tumor had nearly depleted.
The faintly flickering roots vanished. Ronan staggered, propping himself up from the ground. Adeshan and Krava Kratir both rushed to support him.
"Ronan!"
"Your complexion worsened suddenly. Are you alright?"
"Hoo... Probably."
Ronan nodded heavily. He switched the power source back to his original heart. Blood coursed through his body, and his energy began to return.
'Damn, I'm exhausted. Mana's almost bottomed out.'
It had consumed several times more mana than firing his sword beam. He'd have to recover a bit before trying again.
"Sorry about that. It really was important."
Only then did Ronan turn to Krava Kratir with an apology. The wrinkled face still bore a kindly smile.
"Hoho, no matter. Looks like your lady sprained her ankle or something?"
"Something like that. She's not my lady, though."
"L-Lady...?!"
Adeshan covered her mouth with her hand. Ronan raised an eyebrow and asked,
"Anyway, what brings you here?"
"I'd prefer to move somewhere else if possible. Does your schedule allow?"
"Sure, but..."
"That's fine, then. Let's go."
Clap! Suddenly, Krava Kratir clapped his hands. Space flipped, and their vision went dark. Moments later, light returned, revealing a completely different scene.
"This is..."
It was a familiar place. The vast, open space felt more like a living room than a bedroom. Three walls were covered in windows overlooking the blue sky and Phileon's grounds in a single glance.
In the center of the room sat a round table made of ancient wood. Used for meetings or receptions, a man sat facing away from Ronan in front of it.
"It's been a while."
Ronan shrugged at the familiar sight. It was the principal's office atop Phileon Tower 1. The man at the table turned his head. A decadent voice flowed from his lips.
"You're here. Ronan."
"Zarodin? You were here?"
"Yeah. Came for business and heard about you. You made quite the spectacle."
Ronan's eyes widened. The man was Zarodin Stonesong. A steaming teacup sat before him.
"...You've brought something strange with you. Not a core, though."
Zarodin suddenly scanned Ronan up and down, frowning. His sharp gaze lingered precisely on Ronan's heart area.
"As expected, you can see it, Professor. What the hell is this?"
"I'm curious too. We'll check it after your business with the principal."
"Hoho, finally my turn, eh?"
Krava Kratir guided Ronan to the table. The head seat, usually his, became Ronan's place. Sitting across from him, Krava Kratir spoke in an excited tone.
"I called you here, Ronan... to commend your feats at Dawn Magic Tower. I've been principal for nearly eighty years, but you're the first student like you."
"In a good way, right?"
"Hoho, about eighty percent."
Krava Kratir laughed. Hearing the praise, Ronan sighed in relief.
He'd worried it was about holding him accountable for his club activities so far. He'd torn the club building apart with space magic like it was a monthly event—no room for excuses there.
"A direct message came from Awn Philla. She was thrilled, talking about you and Miss Erzsebet. She's not one to show emotions like that usually."
"Got dragged into it. No big deal."
"If that's no big deal, words like 'incident' or 'feat' wouldn't exist. Saving Tower Lord Lardan and stopping the Forbidden Book Vajura's resurrection—how can you say that?"
Krava Kratir recited Ronan's achievements like a vassal praising his lord. No formal safety warnings meant he was truly pleased.
'Handling the book on their own, huh.'
No mention meant Vajura's fate was left to Ronan. Or Awn Philla and Baren had kept quiet. Finishing his rambling in delight, Krava Kratir concluded,
"I'm truly proud of you. With Dawn Magic Tower's stance, a public commendation is tricky for now, but I wanted to express my thanks like this."
"No need for thanks. Anyway, appreciated."
"Good. Now, name anything you want."
"Anything I want?"
"Merits deserve fitting rewards. I wouldn't have called if it was just thanks."
Ronan scratched his head. He'd already gotten plenty from Dawn Magic Tower—nothing specific came to mind. Normally, scholarship or priority dorms, but as a special admittee, he already had full tuition covered.
'Hmm... Nothing jumps out.'
Couldn't refuse, though. Asking for space magic rides everywhere? Unrealistic.
'Right.'
Club members' faces flashed by. Ronan snapped his fingers.
"Oh, can you set up a training ground for the club?"
"Ho, a training ground?"
"Yeah. Wide and sturdy."
A dedicated training ground was the top need for a special adventure club. Ronan knew Cita's blood magic training still happened off-campus.
Nest's area wasn't bad, but too cramped for wide-scale skills like Asel's or Schlieffen's full power.
"Tough enough for a dragon rampage... might be too much. Just enough not to collapse under full-force Zaifa and Instructor Naviroje would be great."
"Not easy."
"Close to the club would be better."
Ronan's requests: wide and sturdy. The bar was just sky-high. Krava Kratir hummed thoughtfully.
"Hmmm... Alright. I'll make it happen somehow."
"Thanks. Tough ask?"
"Nah. Before winter hits. This'll be fun."
Ronan let the promise slide without pressing. They talked at length. So many incidents, conversation never lulled.
"By the way, Ronan, is it true Hell Prominence was cast? Sealed after Lardan used it on the southern front twenty years ago."
"That damn fire? Yeah. Vajura unleashed it right in front of me."
"Hoho, flames that drink mana and grow endlessly. How'd you extinguish it?"
"Burned it out with five scrolls from Awn Philla. No mana left to fuel it."
Krava Kratir gave a hollow laugh. Midway through Dawn tales—Ding! Ding! A clear bell rang from his pocket.
"Oh dear, look at me."
Krava Kratir stood, tapping his forehead. It was his pocket watch. Adjusting his attire hastily, he glanced between Ronan and Zarodin.
"Sorry. This old man must go. Rest well, both of you."
"Where to suddenly?"
"Itra Gorge in the north. Forgot about the Hundred Beasts Festival next month."
"Hundred Beasts Festival?"
"Once more, respect for your efforts. See you next time."
Ronan tried to speak, but Krava Kratir's palm met his. Clap! He vanished with the sound.
"...What?"
Ronan frowned at the abruptness. No explanation—schedule must be tight.
Hundred Beasts Festival. Sounded festive, vaguely familiar. In the awkward silence, Zarodin, who'd been staring, spoke.
"Strange."
"Ah, think I get it?"
"Not yet. Unlike any core or circle I've seen. Come here a moment."
Zarodin's face was deeply furrowed. Even the mana expert couldn't grasp it visually—definitely an issue.
He placed a hand on Ronan's back, beginning a thorough scan. Cautious now, post near-death scare. After a while, Zarodin murmured,
"...Impossible."
"Fucked after all. Any fix? Ten more years would be fine."
"Not that. Can you explain how you got this power source?"
"How? Well..."
Ronan recounted Dawn Magic Tower events. Unmentioned to Krava Kratir. Zarodin knew most anyway—skipped only the sparkling mana emergence.
"Vajura's ego perished inside you? The Vajura of Destruction you've mentioned?"
"Yeah, that bitch."
"Unbelievable... but it makes sense. No power that immense, no such event."
Zarodin chuckled hollowly. Expression even he hadn't shown for Sarante's ring. Ronan pressed irritably,
"Damn it, what's happening under my ribs?"
"Part of the curse lodged in your heart vanished. Or rather, not exactly."
"What?"
Ronan's face hardened. What was this? Curse gone? Zarodin continued past stunned Ronan,
"More like merged. Need Secret's opinion too, but that's my sense."
"...Explain."
"Of the remaining nine curses, two are gone. Outwardly."
Zarodin said two of Ronan's nine curses vanished. Not fully eradicated like the prior seal. Fused with mysterious power, they morphed into mana clumps, effects intact.
"Fuck."
Ronan swore. The chest tumor: clump of Vajura's immense power and curse fragment. Felt viler than demon shit.
"Never seen anything like it. Unprecedented new power source."
"Safe to use? Like a normal core?"
"No issue. Structure superior to standard cores or circles. Unprecedented, so effort needed for mastery."
"Relief."
"Intriguing: fully separate from your original heart. Succeed in forming a core, you'll wield two power sources."
Ronan nodded. As expected. Sparkling mana from Vajura's power—or his "father's" curse.
"That's all for now. Come anytime if trouble."
"Thanks, Zarodin."
Zarodin sipped tea wordlessly. Knowing the tumor's nature, Ronan pondered. Initially pure disaster, but maybe not bad.
'Might be usable.'
Dual cores alone a huge plus. Vajura's seemed to hide insane potential—further checks needed. Stroking his chin, Ronan asked,
"Zarodin. One question."
"What?"
"Possible to copy others' auras? Handle multiple?"
"Impossible."
"Figured."
Tone screamed absurdity. That ended it; Ronan left the office. Exiting the tower, intense sunlight poured down. Deep summer blue sky heralded the season.
'Masterpiece. Ronan, the Nebula Klajie.'
The tumor—no, second heart—pulsed at its own rhythm. As he stepped forward, a familiar voice cried from behind,
"S-Save meee!"
"Asel?"
Ronan turned. Asel ran, clutching books.
"You idiot, what're you doing there?"
"Wh-Why this...!"
No reply despite shouts. Eyes squeezed shut—terrified.
"Pathetic bastard."
As he neared four steps, Ronan—power source switched—stomped. Thud! Mana wave spread; sparkling roots ensnared Asel's ankle.
"Hyak?!"
Suddenly bound, Asel toppled. Ronan grabbed his hood mid-fall. Asel's face halted a finger's breadth from the ground.
"What's the panic?"
"R-Ronan...?!"
Asel finally noticed, eyes bulging. Pale, he flailed.
"N-No time! Run!"
"Ask once more, I'll hang you from a lamppost."
"Eek...! S-Sorry...! I mean, right now...!"
"Right now?"
Boom! A roar erupted from the corner Asel fled. Screams spread like wildfire. Crashing grew nearer.
Asel wailed tearfully,
"Th-The manticore for the Hundred Beasts Festival display escaped!"