Chapter 66
Chapter 66
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 66
Chapter Title: Jarodin
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Bang! It wasn't long before the door swung open again. Jarodin looked emaciated, his body shrunken to the bone, resembling a humanoid were-centipede. He spoke in an excited voice.
"Come in. If you do me this favor, you won't have to pay a single coin."
"Suddenly?"
"Yes. Come in first. Hurry."
His suddenly changed attitude was bewildering. Ronan and Adeshan followed him inside, caught off guard.
His office gave off an impression of being not just overly tidy, but starkly desolate. Beyond the excessively high windows, only a grayish sky was visible.
The only furniture consisted of a desk and drawer in the corner of the room, a chair, and another desk within arm's reach. Ronan sniffed the air and furrowed his brow.
'No smell at all.'
The absence of any fragrance heightened the barren atmosphere. If anything, there was a faint dust scent. It was a stark contrast to Baren Phanasir's office, always filled with the aroma of black tea and baking cookies. Jarodin pointed to the desk.
"Sit wherever. As you can see, I hate clutter."
There was no furniture for receiving guests. Ronan sat on the edge of his desk, leaving the hesitant Adeshan behind. Thud. The moment Jarodin closed the door, all external noise vanished completely.
"Eek?!"
Adeshan flinched. The sudden silence hit like fireworks exploding right by her ear. Ronan asked,
"Is the entire room under a silence spell?"
"Yes. I hate interruptions as much as prying eyes."
Jarodin locked the door with a series of differently shaped latches, one by one. The clinking of metal sounded unusually loud.
There were seven latches, more than Ronan had expected. With scents and sounds stripped away, Jarodin's office felt like a prison trapping the senses. After securing all the latches, he approached the two.
"Now, shall we get to the talk?"
"Sure. What's this favor?"
"First, hand over that ring?"
Jarodin extended his hand. After a moment's hesitation, Ronan placed his left hand on his sword hilt and handed over Sarante's ring. He was ready to turn him into a one-armed man if he tried anything funny.
"Don't handle it roughly. It's a gift from a friend."
"Of course. By the way, a friend who gave you this? You've forged quite the precious bond."
"What do you mean?"
"It's not easy befriending a mage who's lived this long. At least two thousand years old... Not a dragon, but an elf. The mana weave is supple."
Ronan's eyes widened. Jarodin then rattled off the attributes and habits Sarante mainly used in his magic.
"Primarily wind magic, but versed in multiple attributes fundamentally. A remarkable mage."
"How do you know all that?"
"That's how I scrape by."
Ronan narrowed his eyes. Though he brushed it off casually, this was no ordinary man. Examining the ring meticulously, Jarodin spoke.
"Anyway, my favor is... to let me extract a bit of mana from this ring. Possible?"
"Extract mana?"
"Yes. I needed mana from a long-lived magic-user. It's essential for my experiment."
"There are elves at Phileon too."
"None this ancient."
From his tone, Sarante had lived long even by elven standards. Ronan easily picked up on his childlike excitement.
He'd clearly been searching desperately for whatever experiment this was. Suddenly, Ronan snatched the ring back from his hand.
"No."
His tone was as if to say not even in your dreams. Jarodin's expressionless face opened.
"...Why?"
"I don't like it. What if the ring breaks?"
"I guarantee it won't. I'll extract just enough for a sample. Even if I siphon a bit, it'll recover quickly."
"Still no. I'd rather pay."
"Then get out."
"Yes. Let's go, Adeshan."
"R-Ronan?"
Adeshan's eyes went wide. Ronan headed for the door without a hint of hesitation. Just as he reached for the first latch,
"Wait."
Jarodin's voice caught his leg. Ronan replied carefully, keeping any amusement out of his tone.
"Why?"
"How about this? I don't know your problem, but I'll fully support you until it's solved. No charge, of course."
"Adeshan sunbae's problem too."
"That's a different matter."
"Bye."
"As you wish."
In the end, Jarodin surrendered. Ronan pivoted on his heel. Seeing the smile on his lips, Jarodin twisted his mouth.
"Promising future you've got."
"Hear that a lot."
Ronan no longer hid his grin. He'd disliked the guy's abrupt demand for money from the start, but now his mood lightened. Desperation was indeed the best bargaining chip.
"How long for the mana extraction?"
"Shortest a few hours. Longest a few days. We'll solve your issue first."
"How long for that?"
"Mana impurities like that take minutes. Stand in the center first so I can assess your state."
Jarodin positioned Ronan in the middle of the office. Placing a hand on his back, he chanted an unintelligible incantation.
"Whoa..."
Adeshan gasped at the mana spreading across Ronan's skin. Jarodin, eyes closed in analysis, tilted his head.
"Huh, first time seeing a case like this."
"What's wrong?"
"Your senses opened just days ago. Barely a day... two at most. You've never sensed mana before?"
"Pretty much."
"Yet you manifested sword aura..."
Jarodin's expression hardened. His palm, sliding down Ronan's spine, halted behind his heart. A grinding voice escaped him.
"...Cursed, by any chance?"
"How'd you know?"
"No other explanation. Traces of mana flow remain, but it's completely blocked now. So seamless I nearly missed it."
He'd uncovered it without prompting—the first since Sarante. Ronan sighed faintly.
"...Definitely cursed, then. No way to fix it?"
"Hold on. I'll force it open."
"Pardon?"
Force it? As Ronan turned,
"Agh! Fuck!"
It was the same jolt as when he'd fired sword aura at Schlieffen. Numbing pain from his chest surged through his veins across his body.
Ronan clutched his head and curled up. Fortunately, the pain faded after seconds.
"Damn it, are you insane—"
"Gahk!"
As Ronan turned with curses, blood erupted from Jarodin's mouth. It splattered fan-like across the stone floor. Adeshan rushed over in horror.
"Professor?!"
"What the—why?"
"Kuhk, heurk... Get away...!"
Ronan noticed blood streaming not just from his mouth, but nose, eyes, and ears. Stumbling to the desk, Jarodin rummaged wildly through the drawer.
He finally found a potion vial and smashed it into his mouth. Gulp. Exactly three seconds later, blood exploded from Jarodin's mouth again.
"Keurk!"
"Kyaaah!"
Mixed with potion, it seemed even more voluminous. Meanwhile, Lamancha absorbed the blood splattered on its blade. Ronan hurried over to support him. The frail body convulsed like a twig in a storm.
'Shit. Is he dying?'
The situation looked dire. Cita was at Nimbutton, unfortunately. As Ronan gauged the distance to the nearest infirmary,
Jarodin suddenly shoved off his support and clung to the bookshelf like a cicada.
"What are you doing?"
"Keurk, pull the book I say. Top left shelf, third slot, fifth from the right...!"
"I'll get the higher ones!"
Ronan and Adeshan pulled the indicated books. Ten volumes came out in total.
'This pattern... familiar.'
Ronan tilted his head. The gapped bookshelf looked oddly familiar. Confirming it, Jarodin spat blood and shouted.
"Kashpha, Lunazie, Delphirim...!"
"What?"
It was a spell he recognized—Erzsebet had chanted it once.
Rumble! The bookshelf slid back, revealing a long, dark passage. Ronan grimaced. He knew where it led. Jarodin collapsed forward.
"Kuh... Keurk..."
"Damn it, follow me, Adeshan."
"O-Okay."
Ronan hoisted Jarodin and dashed down the corridor. Darkness enveloped them, then a familiar space emerged. Adeshan looked around, eyes wide.
"Th-This is...?"
A massive library lined with books on all sides—Sepharaccio, the secret office of Curse Studies Professor Secret. A youthful voice echoed from somewhere.
"Welcome. Jarodin."
"Secret!"
Ronan shouted. A child reading in the center of the library stood, eyes bulging.
"Ronan? Why are you here..."
"Long time no see, but no time for greetings. Check him out."
"Jarodin? How'd you end up like this?"
"No idea. Tried opening my mana channels, then he collapsed."
"No clue what you're on about. Hmm, let's see."
Ronan laid Jarodin on the floor. With the sun still up, Secret was in child form. He sketched a simple magic circle on the floor with chalk and placed a hand on Jarodin's forehead. Wrinkles formed between Secret's brows.
"Huh, such recklessness."
"What happened?"
"A trace of your curse transferred. I'll extract it now—deal with it quick."
Muttering, Secret lifted his hand. A writhing shadow-like thing clung to his palm and was pulled out.
"What the fuck is that."
Ronan scowled. It resembled a miniature of the shadows from the mental world. Secret flung his hand as if shaking it off. The shadow flopped grotesquely on the floor.
-■■■■!!
As it lunged at Jarodin again, Ronan drew his sword. Slash! Lamancha arced, cleaving the shadow in half. Ronan muttered bitterly.
"Damn, bad luck from morning."
-■■...
The shadow vanished like scattered ash. Jarodin's convulsions stopped. He propped up, spitting pooled blood.
"Hah, heurk... Damn it...!"
"Lucky, Jarodin. Any later and you'd be dead."
Secret offered a water bottle. Jarodin emptied it sitting, wiped his mouth, and stood. Blood trails under his nose and eyes looked gruesome.
"Huuu... You two know each other?"
"Yes. Mentioned it once. Helping with an unprecedented curse."
"This was the student. Damn..."
Ronan shrugged. Secret and Jarodin seemed acquainted. They began discussing the curse on him. Ronan cut in.
"What happened? He okay now?"
"Yes. Saved thanks to you... though your curse nearly killed me, so mixed."
"How'd my curse jump to you?"
"My carelessness. Thought since senses opened once, it'd be fine despite potency... Wrong."
Jarodin said the curse transferred when he touched Ronan's blocked mana veins. His pallid face, drained of blood, was corpse-like. Wiping ear blood, he said,
"But goal achieved."
"Huh?"
"Barely, but succeeded in opening senses. Secret, take a look."
"Will do."
Secret, hands behind back, placed a hand on Ronan's back. His childlike eyes widened gradually.
"It's true, Jarodin. How...!"
"Told you."
"Ronan. Met your father recently?"
"What kinda nonsense is that?"
"Or fell into a curse eye pit or some major curse-influencing event?"
"...Nothing like that."
Ronan scratched his head. Much had happened, but nothing curse-related stood out. Maybe Sarante's ring. Secret continued.
"Don't know why, but... curse weakened since last."
"Pardon?"
"Exactly. Something as bizarre as the curse in your body is eroding it. Like wind and rain carving rock."
Ronan's eyes widened. He couldn't grasp it suddenly. But cause didn't matter now.
"So... can I handle or sense mana now?"
"Theoretically, yes. Jarodin forced the path open. But this restriction can't lift instantly. To fully wield mana, must erode curse gradually, like peeling rust."
Secret marveled like witnessing a cripple's miracle. Ronan couldn't hide his excitement.
Finally, he could draw sword aura, like even monkey-brained fools. In high spirits, he asked,
"How long?"
"Assuming daily training... About 20 years."
"Fuck, 20 years?"
Ronan's face hardened. He'd expected a year at most. 20 years—bald world-breakers could build homes and families.
As Ronan opened his mouth,
Jarodin, quietly recovering breath, spoke.
"...No, won't take that long."