Chapter 193
Chapter 193
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 193
Chapter Title: Where the Sky Grows Thin (4)
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"What the fu...!"
Ronan gritted his teeth. A scream escaped between his clenched teeth. The pain surging through him was so ferocious that he couldn't hold back his curses even in front of the Mother of Flames.
"You must endure."
Navardoje spoke calmly. Instead of replying, Ronan clenched his fist. She was pressing down on his chest with all her strength, so he couldn't even sit up. Blood trickled from where his nails dug into his palm.
Ronan took a ragged breath and looked around. A powerful mana convection phenomenon was occurring around him, distorting the entire room. Navardoje, who had been staring fixedly at Ronan's heart, furrowed her brow.
"This curse is far more potent than I imagined. Your father is one thing for planting something like this in his son's body, but you're no slouch either for enduring it this long."
"What... exactly is this curse doing?"
"What, you can hear me? The pain must be excruciating."
"It seems... bearable now that it's passing..."
Ronan rasped. Navardoje's eyebrow twitched. As the founder of flame magic, she knew exactly how excruciating the curse was inflicting on him.
It must feel like every drop of blood in his body had turned to lava, yet here he was, not passing out but asking for conversation. She chuckled softly and stroked his head with her other hand.
"What a commendable child."
"Heh... it's different from... when sis does it..."
Ronan let out a weak laugh. Somehow, the pain seemed to ease a little. He wondered if his late mother had stroked his and his sister's heads with the same feeling.
'Damn, pain makes all sorts of thoughts pop up.'
Ronan bit his lower lip. It had improved, but it still hurt like hell. Amid his blurring and sharpening vision, Navardoje's voice rang out.
"The curse I'm touching right now is a flame magic whose name has long been forgotten. It plants an ember in the target's heart and burns them from the inside out. It's meant for killing...
"Killing...? This shit is that brutal?"
"Yes. Once it burns away the inner power and vitality, the flames eventually consume the flesh as well. However..."
Navardoje trailed off. Though her face was hidden by the flame pouch, her tone had grown gravely serious. For a moment, the heat searing his heart subsided.
"...there's too much to burn. But that's not the problem. ■■. They've sealed the curse like this."
"Hoo, sealed... the curse?"
"Exactly as it sounds. Removing it outright now would overwhelm your body. The curses stemming from wind and water are checking each other, so if one vanishes, the others explode in power."
Ronan frowned. Even in his dazed state, he could sense things were fucked. She continued.
"If the fire goes out, water will flood and tsunamis will rise. Conversely, if the water dries up, the flames will ride the wind and spread uncontrollably. Just like the original curse, until your body is completely incinerated."
"Then... ugh, what do we... do?"
"We maintain the fire's heat while eliminating the curse. It's become quite troublesome."
"Is that... possible?"
Ronan asked. It took a while for her answer. After pondering, Navardoje tapped his chest lightly.
"Of course. Trust me, child. But it will take some effort, so no more talking."
"Pardon?"
Navardoje whispered a few words that sounded like an incantation. Suddenly, his eyelids grew heavy. A voice soft as a baby's skin lingered in his ears.
"Shh... go to sleep."
The palm pressing his chest heated up again. Unable to bear it, Ronan bellowed what the hell she was doing to his body, but by then, it was already happening in his dreams.
"Ugh... fuck..."
Ronan opened his eyes. His vision was refreshingly clear, like the morning after a fever. His body was damp with sweat all over. After catching his breath, he slowly sat up.
"...What the hell happened?"
He had no sense of how much time had passed. They were still in his father's room. A strange crimson light glowed overhead.
He felt no particular physical changes. Yet despite the sweat cooling and the chill it should bring, his body felt warm, like he was wrapped in a coat. Then a soft voice came from behind.
"Awake, child?"
"Ah, you were there..."
It was Navardoje's voice. Ronan turned his head casually and froze. His unfinished sentence trailed off like residue.
"...?"
"Regaining your senses so quickly—impressive as expected. Hehe... I need a little rest now."
Navardoje sat on the bed right beside him, gazing at him. Her flushed face bore a tired but satisfied smile. Ronan swallowed hard.
'No way.'
Once he focused, he noticed her disheveled appearance. Her once crisp dress was wrinkled all over. Her sweat-dampened hair was slightly wet and tousled.
Ronan took a deep breath to banish the impure thoughts flickering in his mind. Regaining minimal courage, he spoke.
"Did something... happen?"
"Changing the plan took some doing. But it succeeded in the end."
"You mean my curse..."
"Yes. Not perfectly, but I replaced it successfully. Right now, the curse and my ember are burning together in your heart."
Navardoje said in a weary voice. Ronan's eyes widened. Any dazed delusions vanished instantly.
"Ember? What does that mean?"
"Just what it sounds like. I took a fragment of the fire that forms the basis of my power and planted it in your heart. Replacing it all at once might have been too much, so I only inserted a tiny amount. I never imagined a human could handle this power..."
Her eyes gazing at Ronan sparkled with pure admiration. Ronan sat there stunned, like someone who'd been bonked on the head by a flowerpot while walking.
'Fuck, what did she put in me?'
The explanation felt utterly unreal. Of course, Navardoje had no reason to lie, so it must be true. Ronan opened his mouth.
"Why go that far..."
"I merely kept my promise. I said I'd repay you for saving Iril."
It was a clear reason. Her fatigue made perfect sense now. Severing the basis of her power meant sharing her very life force. Navardoje stretched and stood.
"You might not feel much different right now. At best, a bit more refreshed than usual. But as time passes, you'll notice a stark difference. This power follows a different path from the curse meant to harm and suppress you. As you grow stronger, my ember will grow too, eventually incinerating the curse completely."
To put it simply, it was like swapping in a superior replacement part for the original. The only downside was its excessive potency, but it was still better than the curse. Ronan placed his hand over his left chest and bowed his head.
"Thank you, Navardoje."
"Lift your head, child. I'm the one who should be grateful. I saw you save my daughter, after all."
"Ah, you saw that?"
"Yes. She's so prideful, I deliberately didn't bring it up in front of her, but..."
Only then did Ronan hurriedly put on his shirt. It was a relief his temperature hadn't risen so much that he couldn't dress. He muttered a curse under his breath.
'Fuck. My body's starting to feel weirder.'
This had nothing to do with the curse lifting. Seniel or whatever that stone ghost was. Bajura's core wasn't enough, now primordial embers. Bajura had caused such dramatic changes that he dreaded what bullshit this would bring. Nothing as shocking as sparkling mana, maybe.
"How long was I out?"
"About six hours. Remarkable recovery."
"Definitely not long. But nothing seems different... Hm?"
For a split second, as Ronan scanned the room, his eyes narrowed. A blue glow leaked from under the research desk—something absent when they first entered. Its faint pulsing indicated it contained the sparkling mana symbolic of Nebula Klazier. Navardoje tilted her head.
"What's wrong?"
"No... hold on. What's that?"
Ronan approached the mana slowly. From her reaction, she couldn't see it. Crouching under the desk intensified the glow. Examining closely, he soon spotted a sheet of paper stuck to the desk's underside.
'What the hell is this?'
It looked like ordinary parchment. The mysterious mana seeped from it, crudely attached with glue, no special magic. Ronan bit the parchment in his mouth and crawled out. Navardoje raised an eyebrow.
"What's that?"
"No idea. Checking now."
Ronan mumbled awkwardly. He hoped it wasn't blank. Unfolding the twice-folded parchment revealed a drawing. Ronan gasped.
"This is...!"
Crude, but recognizable. It was unmistakably a map. Navardoje, watching beside him, murmured with wide eyes.
"Leaving something like this. I never noticed."
She truly hadn't. Ronan probably wouldn't have found it without the curse sharpening his senses. He hadn't expected effects so soon. Examining the map, Ronan shrugged.
'This coastline... looks familiar.'
The ink-drawn image depicted a coastal area. The north showed a vast ocean blank. It was definitely somewhere recent. Rifling his memory, Ronan quickly pinpointed it.
"Ah."
The mysterious map depicted nearly the same location as the forge blueprint from Allogin. Heiran. The continent's northern tip, home to the smithy forging the holy sword.
'Said they went north. This far?'
His heart raced. Circumstantially, one of them had drawn it. As his grip tightened unconsciously, the parchment crumpled slightly, and the map began to change.
"What now?"
A stain formed in the broad blank depicting the North Sea. Ronan leaned in close. It shimmered oddly, different from the map's ink.
The stain writhed and expanded like a living thing. Navardoje pressed close, watching intently. Soon, the motion stopped, and Ronan realized it formed an island's shape.
"...So that's why the blank was so wide. Did Elcia leave this?"
"Unclear. Since it reacted to your mana and changed, we can't rule out ■■ leaving it directly."
"Maybe. But isn't it weird? There shouldn't be an island here."
"Hm? What do you mean?"
"It's the Sea of Specters."
Ronan said dubiously. Navardoje let out a small exclamation upon realizing. The island was in the Sea of Specters.
'What the hell is out there?'
An extreme wasteland where seawater froze and icebergs larger than mountains drifted like buoys. Sailors dreaded even naming it—one of the planet's foremost demonic realms.
"Suspicious indeed. A place of only cold and death."
"Right?"
"Separate from that, it feels off. The whole situation seems too contrived."
Navardoje narrowed her eyes. Ronan nodded in agreement. Fixing her gaze on the map, she spoke.
"It feels... like they placed it there knowing you'd find it."