Chapter 186
Chapter 186
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 186
Chapter Title: Mother of Fire (2)
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"......Hello. Lady Navardoje."
"Ro, Ronan?! What are you doing here?!"
Itargand let out a scream-like shout. When Ronan slightly opened his eyes, he saw Navardoje's face still frozen in place. Her crimson pupils blazed as if flames might pour out from them at any moment.
[You.]
"Uh, well... um... please continue with what you were doing. It looks great."
Cold sweat trickled down his temples. This was one of the top five most fucked-up situations he could imagine in life.
"You know, I don't have parents, so I've always envied a relationship like yours deep down... I do have a sister, haha... but having a mom is still better, right?"
Ronan desperately averted her gaze while babbling nonsense. As expected, no reply came. Navardoje, who had been scanning him from head to toe, furrowed her brow.
[You. How are you moving?]
"Well... I have a bit of a unique constitution."
[Constitution.]
Ronan let out an awkward laugh. He couldn't decide whether to tell the truth. If he blurted out that he could cut magic, he might be labeled a dangerous element and turned to ash—no greater tragedy imaginable. Suddenly, Navardoje's eyes flickered faintly.
[Do you not know who I am?]
"Gah!"
Something invisible gripped Ronan's throat. His body slowly floated into the air. The force was so powerful it made Asel's telekinesis look like child's play.
"Nava... rdoje...!"
[I did not ask for wordplay.]
This really wasn't fun. The aura rising above Navardoje's shoulders warped the surrounding space. The entire plaza seemed shrouded in heat haze.
'Damn it...!'
Ronan gritted his teeth. It was a sticky situation. He could reach for his sword hilt right now if he wanted. With resolve, he could slash the telekinesis and escape—or land a hit. But doing so would surely mean certain death.
[I'll ask again. How did you escape my magic?]
Navardoje continued. The constricting force grew stronger. He had to decide quickly before blood stopped reaching his brain. Just as Ronan was about to speak, the stunned Itargand snapped out of it and cried out in horror.
"Ca, calm down, Mother! This is the human I told you about!"
[That human? Don't tell me...]
"Yes. The one who saved me and recommended I attend Phileon. This is Ronan!"
[Gasp...!]
Navardoje's eyes widened. The force squeezing Ronan vanished. He collapsed to the ground, coughing dryly.
"Gah...! Kek! Damn it...!"
"I, I'm sorry. Are you alright? To do this to the benefactor who saved my son...!"
Navardoje stomped her feet. The killing intent blanketing the plaza dissipated in an instant. Ronan rubbed his neck as he stood up.
"Hoo... Yeah, I'm fine."
"Th, that's a relief... Truly a relief."
The voice that had crushed his soul like overwhelming pressure returned to its original gentle tone. She patted her son's forearm and said,
"Ir, you should have said so earlier. We almost had a disaster."
"M, Mother acted so suddenly... I'm sorry."
"......Hoo, no. I was too hasty. Sorry for blaming you."
Navardoje shook her head, admitting her fault. The nickname "Ir" that had bugged him seemed to be her son's. Regaining her composure, she turned to Ronan and said,
"......No need for introductions. Call me by whatever name you like. Sorry once more."
"I'm Ronan. Really, it's fine."
"Right. Nice to meet you, Ronan."
Navardoje smiled. Up close, she just looked like a pretty housewife. Ronan wondered how many mortals had ever seen her like this.
'I really almost died.'
Of course, regardless of it being resolved, it had been truly dangerous. Ronan let out a silent sigh of relief.
This time, his instincts screamed not to push it. He knew she could separate his bones from flesh with a mere back-scratch. Looking around at the frozen students, he spoke up.
"Um, what happened to all these people?"
"Don't worry. I just slowed time in the area temporarily. When the magic lifts, they'll resume what they were doing without a hitch."
Navardoje explained there'd be no harm to their health and that Ronan was the only one moving in Phileon right now. Chills ran down his spine again. Even Kratir, an 8th-circle mage, was affected by this absurd magic. Navardoje continued,
"I should thank you first. Ir is my last child. When I heard he nearly died to a fallen frost spirit, I thought the world was ending. I don't know how to express my gratitude."
"It was nothing."
"You should take more pride. Without you, many would have lost their lives. How fortunate we didn't have to destroy the Kingdom of Glacia."
Ronan swallowed hard. Her calm tone held no exaggeration or lies. Glacia was the Frost Spirit King's name—a transcendent being with only three contractors in history and many worshippers who deified her.
Navardoje treated such a Glacia like a wind-up toy button. Now he understood why the savior went to apologize to her specifically.
"Ir talked a lot about you. Said you showed him the world's vastness. I'm grateful not just for saving his life, but for that enlightenment. It took me ages as a dragon to shed my arrogance."
"No need."
"Hehe, so humble. That's a virtue we could never attain."
Navardoje laughed. She was genuinely pleased her son's worldview had changed.
She was utterly different from what he'd expected. Honestly, when Itargand returned defeated by the Winter Witch, Ronan figured he'd be purged and mounted over a fireplace. You know, the classic: "An incompetent like you isn't family!"
While Navardoje was praising Ronan effusively, a red glow suddenly leaked from inside her hood. She flinched and frowned.
"Oh... I suppose it's time for me to head back today. Their assaults are getting fiercer."
"Assaults?"
"Yes. Annoying bunch. That's why I rarely visit Adren... ."
Muttering something incomprehensible, Navardoje removed her hood. Crimson hair and a pair of horns emerged.
They hadn't been visible under the robe—some illusion magic, no doubt. The elegantly curved horns toward the sky pulsed a sinister red reminiscent of poisonous mushrooms. She sighed wearily and faced Ronan.
"Well then, tell me what you desire."
"Suddenly?"
"Yes. I must reward my son's savior. Did you think I'd let it slide?"
Ronan's eyes widened. This was as unexpected as her personality. He'd thought survival was the reward, yet she offered something extra. After a moment's thought, he spoke.
"Then... could you spare some time later? Just a day."
"Time? That's fine, but... is that enough?"
"Yes."
Ronan nodded. He hadn't done it for material gain anyway. Gaining her favor was reward enough—immense, even.
"......An intriguing choice. Most mortals want something tangible. You truly are different."
"I have something to discuss."
"Very well. I'll make time soon. Hm, by the way... ."
Suddenly, Navardoje's eyes narrowed. She peered intently at Ronan's face, murmuring. Flustered, he raised an eyebrow.
"What's wrong?"
"Have... have we met before?"
"......Me, you, Lady Navardoje?"
Both tilted their heads. This was baffling. He racked his brain for chance encounters with her polymorphed, but unlikely—her presence was unmistakable. She waved it off first.
"No. We'll talk next time. Keep today's events secret, please."
"I'd sooner lose my tongue than tell."
"Thank you. Ir, see you tomorrow."
Navardoje stood on tiptoes. A light kiss on his cheek flushed Itargand's face.
"M, Mother...!"
"Enjoy your youthful innocence, my son."
Having kissed her son's cheek, Navardoje turned. Contrary to expectations of her reverting to true form, she used spatial magic to depart.
Swoosh... The space around her blurred, her figure vanishing. Soon, the pervasive mana dissipated, and halted time resumed its normal flow.
"Ahaha, let's go!"
"Huh? Didn't the moon shift a bit?"
A cool night breeze brushed their cheeks. The frozen students continued seamlessly, unaware of the magic as Navardoje said. Then, a shadow sliced through the darkness, landing on Ronan's shoulder. It was Cita.
"Ppehk?!"
Cita spread its four wings, glancing around wildly. Seeming puzzled by Navardoje's sudden absence. The sight resembled a rookie on alert duty—amusing.
"It's fine. All done now."
"Ppeuu...?"
Ronan gently stroked Cita. Its narrowed eyes relaxed as it rubbed against his hand. Turning to Itargand, he said,
"Shall we head back? Ir."
"......Don't call me that."
"Cut me some slack. Itargand's too long."
"I said don't. And if you breathe a word of today to others... I'll burn you alive."
"Scary, Ir. Breathe fire all you want—just no kisses."
"You bastard!!"
Itargand finally roared. Even through human vocal cords, it was draconic. The massive bellow shook windows, drawing students' stares.
"Kyaaak!"
"Wh, what?!"
His ears beet-red with embarrassment. Ronan burst out laughing, bickering with Itargand as they left the plaza. Moonlight bathed the campus warmly.
The morning of the entrance ceremony dawned. Deep sunlight seeped through the curtains. So much had happened last night that he overslept more than usual.
"Yaaawn... Still can't believe it... ."
Ronan muttered while stretching. The Mother of Fire apologizing flusteredly or smiling warmly felt like a dream—unrealistic at that.
'Wonder what she'll wear today.'
By now, announcements of Navardoje's visit to Phileon must be out. It'd be a historic ceremony. As he rose, muttering, a knock echoed.
"Lord Ronan. It's me."
"Ah, Lucy... Come in."
"Could you open the door? I can't with my hands... Ngh, it's quite heavy."
"Hm?"
Ronan opened the door. Lucy in maid attire held an ornate box. Taking it, he tilted his head.
"Heavy. What's this?"
"Hoo... Safe. I don't know details. From some place called Farzan?"
"Farzan?"
"Yes. I must clean the plaza, so I'll return later. Have a great day."
Lucy bowed politely and left. The package bore Alogin's name boldly. Zaifa had been far worse off, yet he'd pulled through somehow.
"Tough old coot."
Ronan chuckled. A relief, inwardly worried. But unrelated—what was inside eluded him.
"What's so precious they sealed it like this?"
The box bore enchantment seals like imperial edicts. Puzzled, Ronan opened it. His eyes widened at the contents.
"Oh. Shit."