Chapter 465
Chapter 465
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 135
Chapter Title: Continuing
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"Nice weather."
Ronan murmured as he looked up at the sky.
The sun was dipping below the horizon. A cool evening breeze was cooling the world that had heated up all day. Bathed in the sunset, the grand plaza of Phileon Academy glowed a beautiful amber.
It was perfect weather for a family outing, but unfortunately, the circumstances didn't allow for it.
An unprecedented tension hung over the plaza ahead of the great undertaking.
"Lanse. The access controls are definitely in place, right?"
"Of course, Headmistress."
Lanse replied to Naviroje's question.
Three steel stars gleamed on the shoulders of the confident man saluting her.
As an imperial army general, Lanse was in charge of security for today's top-secret project.
His elite agents were deployed throughout Phileon, controlling civilian access.
"Good. I'll trust you. Any other day might be different, but not today. I can't tolerate mistakes."
"I agree. It's no exaggeration to say this is the most important day in history."
"Don't let your guard down until the expedition ends. I'll patrol for any vulnerabilities."
With that, Naviroje turned away. Her green uniform cape fluttered stylishly over her shoulders.
Despite being nearly forty years older than Lanse, she looked about the same age.
Cita and the Dream Bird Abel circled the sky on alert duty.
"Pya!"
"Hwiot!"
Orse, in human form with only wings extended, was directing them.
The Dream Birds, usually playful, were sharply focused. Though not visible from here, Navardoje and the fire dragon clan were guarding the higher skies as well.
Ronan lowered his gaze.
He smacked his lips after scanning the surroundings.
"Tch. Feels like I'm the only one slacking off."
A massive magic circle was etched in the center of the grand plaza.
Dozens of circles and their inner runes pulsed and writhed like living things. It was the most complex magic circle Ronan had ever seen. Asel, Erzsebet, Rorhon, Kratir, and the era's top mages clung to its perimeter, chanting spells.
"Haaaah!"
"Kuh... ugh..."
All were groaning in agony.
Vast mana swirled in a vortex, sucked into the circle.
Adeshan was using shadow mana to bolster their mental strength.
"Hoo... Just a bit more, everyone!"
"Th... thanks."
Asel was the only one with the spare breath to express gratitude.
He hadn't expected this. Mages who could conjure stars if they wanted were pushed to their limits. It really drove home how insane what they were attempting was.
As Ronan watched the mages' struggle with a serious expression—
Someone covered his eyes with their hands.
"Guess who~?"
A playful voice rang out. The tension melted away.
Ronan tilted his head, smirking.
"Hmm. An ugly goblin?"
"...Wrong."
"Oh? Not Daddy, then the snot-nosed kid who wrote in her diary about marrying Grandpa?"
"Eeeek, you're doing it on purpose!"
The voice rose in pitch. Ronan spun around and scooped up the owner of the hands like a princess. She was a pretty girl with sharp eyes. Realizing the situation only after meeting his gaze, she gasped.
"Whoa! When did you move?!"
"This much is basic."
"Tch, I really can't beat Grandpa, huh."
The girl puffed her cheeks in frustration. Her soft, pale skin came from her mother's side.
Akasha de Valture—Ronan and Adeshan's granddaughter, and the core of today's operation.
"Alright. Time to put you down."
"Just a little longer."
"Aren't you an adult next year?"
"Granddaughters are supposed to be painless even if you put them in your eyes. Five more minutes."
Akasha boldly held up five fingers.
Ronan chuckled helplessly but couldn't bring himself to drop her. She really was that precious granddaughter. Such a spoiled little brat.
Watching the mages from Ronan's arms, Akasha spoke up.
"Hmm. Should I help too?"
"Don't. You need to conserve your strength."
"It's the first time I've seen Great-Grandpa struggling like that. Aunt Erzsebet too..."
Akasha trailed off worriedly.
These were the top mages after her, yet they were suffering so much.
Ronan said,
"Anyway, are you about ready?"
"Yeah. More or less."
Akasha opened her palm. Four fist-sized rifts appeared simultaneously. Small, but genuine portals to parallel worlds—each to a different one.
Ronan grinned, feeling the hairs on his neck stand up.
"Excellent. Not long until you become the calamity from the future."
"Eek, that again. You really want that to happen?"
"As if. Gotten used to the special suit?"
"Sort of. Definitely not your average gear."
Akasha shrugged. She had to wear a custom-made outfit throughout the operation—an intimidating villain costume that concealed her identity completely.
A boisterous voice boomed as if on cue.
"You bet! Who do you think made it!"
"Kuhaha! It's the masterpiece embodying all our company's technology!"
Ronan and Akasha turned. Dedikan and Aliburihe stood proudly in suits. They were chairmen of Dedikan & Aliburihe Heavy Industries, one of the continent's most influential companies alongside Baren Pharmaceuticals.
A 3-meter-tall black doll stood before them.
"Man... it's been a while."
Ronan ran a hand through his hair, chuckling dryly. Not exactly a fond reunion.
Minus the mask, it looked exactly like the Akasha he'd fought in the parallel world.
"Don't worry, Ronan. You'll control it just like your own body. I know you've heard this a million times, but I've never seen talent like your granddaughter's!"
"Stability's guaranteed too. If threatened externally, the advanced defense system activates automatically. It can even spew blood and guts like a real injury to fool enemies."
They rattled off the suit's features for over ten minutes.
From deforming like liquid, surviving being bisected as long as the wearer stayed focused, to having a spare custom fit for Akasha in case of total destruction.
Ronan shook his head wearily.
"I know. I was the one who got hit by it."
The suit was based on descriptions from the book he'd written, after all.
The calamity from the future, Akasha, had been his granddaughter in that suit. The head he'd beheaded in the final battle was a corpse she'd swapped in secretly.
In a way, it was a relief.
His cute, lovable granddaughter hadn't actually turned into a monster.
As Dedikan and Aliburihe itched to explain more—
Fwaaaaa—!!!
A pillar of light erupted from the plaza's magic circle. White light blanketed Phileon—but perception-blocking magic limited it to the grounds.
"Eek!"
"Ooh... Finally?"
Akasha clung to Ronan's neck. All eyes in the plaza turned.
Ronan stroked her head, smirking.
"It's here."
The light meant only one thing.
The exhausted mages collapsed in place.
Soon the pillar vanished, and a dapper elf gentleman stepped from the circle's center.
The suited elf had escaped his stone prison just two years ago.
Ronan raised an eyebrow.
"Sar ante. Welcome back."
"Yes. I'm home."
Sar ante smiled brightly. A charred Brigia was slung over his shoulder—but as a magitech fake, it dissolved into particles with a snap of his fingers.
Ronan asked,
"How'd it go? Did past me buy it?"
"He was pretty suspicious... but it worked out."
Suddenly, Sar ante pulled out a fist-sized crystal orb. Pressing a button projected an image: the capital under siege by Nebula Klazie and giants.
The pivotal trigger for Ronan's parallel world adventure.
Back then, Sar ante had presented it as footage of a future calamity.
Now, it was laughable. Falling for such a crude trick.
Sar ante pocketed the orb.
"Dreaming Thunder's director's 'Great Invasion'—still an amazing film on rewatch."
"Agreed. The sequel sucked."
"Lucky you got fired up quick, Ronan. A bit longer, and you'd have seen the credits. Whew, felt like ten years off my life."
"Damn, knowing the truth makes me feel like a monkey."
Ronan cursed.
Truth could leave a bitter aftertaste.
That forest video was a family film by the Dreaming Thunder natives of Dahinhar. The bald legion and zealots were actors or illusion magic fakes.
As Ronan shook hands with Sar ante, praising his efforts—
A roar shook the plaza and skies.
"Waaaaah!"
"The threads connected! History's unchanged!"
Everyone seemed genuinely thrilled.
Some collapsed, legs giving out; others hugged and wept.
It was warranted. Sar ante's return was the operation's second most crucial part.
He'd gone decades into the past, delivering Akasha's blood and coat to his past self—the spark for the parallel world quest.
Sar ante grinned.
"That era's you was scary. Hands and feet shaking."
"I couldn't control my hot blood yet. Sorry."
"Now Akasha's role takes center stage. Hope it goes well..."
Sar ante trailed off.
The first and last time travel had barely succeeded, but it wasn't over yet.
The most important part remained.
Sar ante's eyes fixed on Akasha in Ronan's arms.
Akasha swallowed hard.
"...My turn at last."
"Yes. Only you can do this, Akasha."
"Hoo. Fine. Let's do it."
Akasha kissed Ronan's cheek and hopped down.