Chapter 214
Chapter 214
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: Letters to the Wind Mage (4)
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Felix Home could be described in one word... utterly dreamlike.
Whooooosh—
The pure white paths snaking not just along the walls but the floors as well felt less like building corridors and more like holes bored into some bizarre kind of cave.
Every time wind whistled through those holes, a deep, resonant hum vibrated in all directions,
Flutter, flutter, flutter, flutter—
“Oh dear. This guy’s at it again.”
Flap flap! Flutter flutter—
Flutter—flutter—
Sometimes like migratory birds, sometimes like butterflies, a parade of papers flew overhead, creating scenes so bizarre that even Professor, accustomed to all sorts of odd phenomena, had never imagined anything like it.
Not walking forward, but up, sideways, diagonally through the twisting white tunnels. Letters flying within, and a mage quietly chasing after them.
It was a place so strange that anyone would wonder if it was a dream or reality, yet the mages here were so unique that the unfamiliar surroundings felt oddly natural.
“Wow! Raincaller!”
“Make it rain! Create some water!”
“It’s a wolf, a wolf. A werewolf!”
“Smells like a wet dog.”
“Argh! It’s a troll!”
“A little lady riding a troll!”
“Troll rider! Run awaaay!!!!”
“Heh heh heh heh!”
Kids shrieking with childlike glee, mostly the older mages.
“It has been quite some time since you’ve visited in person, Branch of the Forest. Our lives scatter like the wind, but memories ride the breeze to everyone, so no one has forgotten the pact with the World Tree and the winds.”
“H-Help! The mages are kidnapp—”
“Ahem! When I visited your estate, your butler’s tea-brewing skills left such an impression that I invited you for some assistance—now be a good chap and pour the tea before you go!”
“I don’t enjoy tea, human.”
“Hm? Oh dear. Then off you go.”
“Waaahhhh—”
Some who seemed capable of conversation, but ultimately steamrolled ahead with their own words, ignoring the other party. And—
“Aaack! Master! Mages capable of weather magic aren’t that common! How many times do I have to tell you!”
“Sorry! Sorry! It’s not species discrimination or anything—it’s purely genuine! Our master loves animals despite appearances... No, that’s not what I meant either...”
“Argh! It’s a troll!”
“Butler Deril! Give my regards to the lord! I’ll make it worth your whileee—”
Young mages scurrying about, flustered amid the deranged older ones.
[Pr-Professor! Do something about this, buddy! Ottoman! Or splash some water on their heads or something!]
[Do that and they’ll get offended and kill us all! Isn’t there some way? Anything— whoa!]
‘Tch. Good luck. I’ll leave this to you.’
Thanks to the gatekeeper’s fondness for water mages, the group was treated as ‘friends’ en masse, but they were in dire straits from the mages swarming to entertain them one-upping each other.
As a mere ‘guest,’ Professor slipped in smoothly amid the crowd of mages focused elsewhere, even with time to sightsee.
First to catch the eye were the light sources illuminating the dimly lit Felix Home. Massive stone fireplaces fit for a noble mansion glowed softly alongside soot-caked kitchen fuel from some impoverished farmhouse. Beyond those, brass candelabras from temples, cheap smoky torches, enormous candles piled with wax—lights from all walks of life gathered here.
Bearskin rugs to bird-hunting slings, tanning racks to straw beds, ornate chandeliers. Utterly mismatched furniture cluttered the vast hall, asserting their presence, with small leather thimbles, nails, silverware, and other well-worn knickknacks filling every gap meticulously.
‘Scale up a junk crow’s nest, and it’d feel just like this.’
Considering wind mages’ tendencies, these hoarded items shared one theme: things they deemed essential for ‘home.’ Countless mages passing through had gathered what they thought necessary, resulting in mismatches like a ‘massive marble fireplace’ topped with a ‘rusty metal kettle.’
The amusing part? The junk-shop vibe, crammed and dangling everywhere, felt surprisingly cozy.
Wall furnaces, floor hearths, ceiling ones, all exuding their own warmth. Surrounded by bric-a-brac. Each item holding someone’s nostalgia, the mishmash evoked the lives of wind mages themselves.
Whatever the case, unlike the mystical exterior, the interior felt quite snug.
Crash! Clang! Smash!
“Hey, listen up! The wolf buddy has something to say!”
“I... I just wanted to thank you all... And if possible, show me where the letters are headed— gyah! D-Don’t bite!”
“Red hair. Short stature. Troll rider miss? The wind just brought some fun news...”
“Ah, ahaha... Must be a case of mistaken identity...”
“I heard it too! She’s here to get married! How bold.”
“Need a hand? Catch a fierce gust, whisper your voice into it, and winds crossing ridges could echo the miss’s name! Valleys whispering [Lucilla~], [Lucilla Aedran~] with every breeze!”
“That sounds... kinda creepy...”
“Let’s get out now! This place is so dry, rain hardly ever comes!”
“No, I...”
“Prepare the storm! Rain and wind after so long!!!”
“N-No! Let go! I can’t handle that level of magic... uwoooo!”
Poke poke poke!
“Professor, sir. Eyes front and follow closely. We need to meet your friend.”
“Ah, yes.”
Of course, the coziness was more like a Viking feast hall reeking of booze than a quiet cabin. Still, it was clearly ‘hospitality,’ so Professor left the group behind and ventured deeper.
“This is...”
“I said eyes front. First time seeing letters?”
‘Not this many.’
Even urged by the gatekeeper, he had to stop. Anyone seeing this for the first time would freeze just like him.
Beyond the hall stuffed with every wind mage’s ‘homey’ touches lay cabinets and drawers packed floor to ceiling.
Rustle—
Clunk! Clunk clunk!
Flutter! Flutter!
Even now, drawers endlessly opening and closing, receiving and sending letters.
Some mages floated nearby, scolding spinning letters in place or waving staves to recast spells, diligently handling mail duty. Like watching worker bees in a hive.
He knew the gatekeeper found him annoying, but he couldn’t help asking.
“Um... Gatekeeper?”
“What.”
“What’s that?”
“Do you... have eyes, guest...?”
The gatekeeper elder eyed him like a pitiful fool but explained kindly despite his irritated face.
“That’s... a letter.”
“I know that much.”
“No, you don’t. It’s made of ink and paper, catalyzed by the writer’s emotions, powered by Felix Home’s mana. Different from... what you know.”
“...Why?”
“Think like a mage. I’m not here to spoon-feed. My job’s guiding guests. I wanna drop you off quick and see Raincaller.”
Whoosh—swoosh—whoosh—
With that, the gatekeeper swung his holed wooden staff, neatly shoving aside a towering pile of books. Beneath lay a small sliding door tilted downward.
“There. Gauwan Delhurst. Family since first visit 8 years, 7 months, 23 days ago. Handles lost letter sorting and review. Your friend’s here.”
“My friend... right. Thank—”
Whoosh—
The gatekeeper vanished mid-greeting. Unlike his gruff demeanor, his wrinkled face beamed back—clearly smitten with Ottoman.
“...I’m a water mage too.”
Felt oddly discriminated against, separated from the group, but the situation was decent enough.
攻略-wise, targeting one mage was easier than pleasing every quirky one, and as a plain ‘guest,’ he’d luckily been led to this Gauwan Delhurst away from others.
‘Please, let this Gauwan be somewhat sane!’
Praying, Professor opened the creaky wooden door.
“...Who are you?”
A frail voice greeted him, along with warm coziness, old paper, and candle smoke.
****
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Gauwan Delhurst: High Wind Mage. 5-6th Circle. 63 years old. Male.
Hobby: Collecting and displaying small toys.
Not a special NPC. Stores letters that failed spells due to missing or misspelled names, rarely ventures outside.
Comparatively stable among mage NPCs. Exceptionally stable magically.
But as a severe dementia patient, prone to unpredictable actions, slightly higher magic accident rate than other Felix Home mages. Likes sheep milk cheese and soft bread. No local sheep farms, so bringing some helps bonding. Other traits...
=========
“Professooor~?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Aw... I never raised a big kid like you...”
“H-Haha... It was so long ago, memory might’ve faded... hahaha...”
A cramped storeroom barely big enough for Professor.
Walls crammed with bursting bookshelves and drawers; remaining space held only the old mage’s bed, a table half his forearm wide, and a precarious candle amid piled letters.
Lucky or not?
The random name at the gate worked, but now he was escorted here as an acquaintance of a total stranger. At least a one-on-one excuse, but no clue how the mage would react to an unknown face saying ‘came to see you.’
Fortunate that Gauwan Delhurst’s memory was so foggy he couldn’t tell friend from faker.
Professor had worried about mage rage over name misuse, so this was a relief, but...
“Um... Do you know which mage here handles elf trade...?”
“Elves? Their apples were tasty. Had worms though.”
Grr!
“Huff... Right, elves. Let’s focus: long ears, forest dwellers, hot air balloons go there regularly. Anyone handling that or the department managing—”
“Cozy home here. Guest? A guest! N-No treats ready...”
“Haha... No need for hospitality, Gauwan? The hot air balloons to elf forest—”
“Bear dolls better stuffed with sheep wool than straw...”
“No, come on...!”
Grr, grr grr!
Problem: this mage’s dementia was so advanced he lacked basic judgment. Every probe yielded cloudy nonsense.
Creeeak—
“Won’t work. Master’s been like this five years straight.”
As Professor tried jogging his faint memories, the bed’s rear slid open, revealing a mage in an oversized robe entering.
“Wh-Who are you—?”
“Hold on.”
Click.
The mage slipped expertly into the tiny room, propped up Gauwan with practiced moves, straightened his clothes, and set bread, soup, and cheese on the table.
“Eat up, Master.”
“No cheese...”
“Look closely. Right by the bread.”
“No, not this... Big, yellow, soft, smelly... Sheep milk cheese...”
“Shhh. I’ll get the one you want next time. This was hard enough to find.”
“Mmm, ahmm...”
As if Professor filling half the room didn’t exist, master and disciple focused on the meal.
“Mmm, mmm...”
“One sec. Shoes off. Yes. Don’t kick off the blanket complaining of cold like last time.”
“Mmm... Astraad, don’t go far, don’t go far...”
“Sigh. Yes, if you need the bathroom, I’ll be right back—sleep, Master.”
.
.
.
.
Snore—pffft...
The grueling mealtime ended.
Confirming his master asleep, the disciple in the oversized robe turned to Professor, hood still up.
“Sorry for the wait. Master won’t eat if even slightly late.”
“Ah, yes...”
“This way. Oh, might be tight for you.”
Hidden by robe, but exposed wrists and voice suggested a teen boy.
He drew a three-holed staff from his bosom, waving it silently in the air.
Swoosh—whoosh—whoosh—
‘Like before, wind mages chant via staff holes.’
Wind sucked into the wooden holes whistled; mana wove into the sounds, forming spells—clearly visible.
Single whistles layered into harmony—
Grind—clunk, creeak!
No room to move, yet walls receded, carving space just enough for Professor.
“Come over quick. Borrowed Home mana—can’t hold long. And if Master wakes, we’re in for it.”
Short but taxing spell; the mage panted lightly, pulling back his hood.
As expected, a boy. Elderly-white hair, expressionless green eyes. Sixteen? Fifteen? Face wise beyond years, firm lips suggesting few words.
Handsome, but deep dark circles and drowsy eyes screamed exhaustion.
‘...This is the guy!’
Hood off, instinct hit. Color Heaven Demon攻略 stressed ‘exhausted-looking disciple, worldly, wind not in head, socialized mage’—exactly this type.
Creeak—thud!
Through the loft door behind the bed lay a cramped but tidy room unlike Gauwan’s, letters periodically fluttering in to stack.
Boy waved staff to tidy, lit candles in the dim space, beckoned Professor.
“I handle most of Master’s affairs, so talk to me. So, you’re his acquaintance.”
Haaaah—
In the letter-rustling silence, the boy’s sigh settled.
“Cut the crap and get real. ‘Professor’ guest. Why seek Master?”
Whoosh—
Whirl! Hiss—!
Drowsy eyes narrowed; sharp winds gathered with eerie sounds.
.....Pfft.
“Finally, someone sensible. Professor. No surname, Radiant Church hero. 3rd Circle Water.”
“...Astraad. No surname. 3rd Accord Wind Mage. Gauwan Delhurst’s disciple. Lost Letters proxy keeper. Church hero... here to recruit wind mages?”
“Knowing that much makes talk easy.”
At the sharp retort, Professor grinned, sitting opposite.
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