Chapter 477
Chapter 477
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: Last Parade (8)
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****
“Ta-da!”
The blue flower petal that popped out from the hem of my cloak softened the withered, tree-trunk-like expression on Yggdrasil’s face.
“This is... a hemostatic herb flower.”
“Heh heh heh. It’s good not just for bleeding, but for inflammation and stomachaches too. It’s nothing special, but in a place like this with only paper and ink, it’s pretty vibrant.”
“...A flower.”
Yggdrasil took the flower I pulled from my subspace and gave a faint smile.
“Coincidence, or inevitability.”
She held the flower for a moment, savoring its scent (which was more bitter than anything), then slowly began to unravel her story as she walked ahead.
“I had to hide my body. Though the World Tree’s power had been absorbed by that vile outer god, the key to wielding that power was divided among the five elves, including myself.”
“So you came to Astraad.”
“He was the most successful of that accursed ‘Professor Hero Party.’ Lucilla, Astraad. The empire housed another high elf, so after much deliberation, I decided to seek refuge with the grand archmage known as the High Wind.”
“Accursed, huh. Notum earned such immense status among the greenskins that she was called their surrogate mother. Aren’t the current troll and orc tribe chiefs practically all her children? Any greenskin would’ve hidden you with utmost zeal as a friend of the surrogate mother.”
Haaah.
“That’s precisely why I couldn’t go. After her death, Notum’s name became a symbol of legitimacy among the green-skinned races. If I, who journeyed with her, sought refuge, that tribe would gain immense authority. It would disrupt the balance Notum achieved through countless... breedings across all greenskins, ultimately sparking massive unrest and exposing my location.”
Just from a few words, I could feel how much Yggdrasil had suffered after the World Tree’s death.
The place she led me to was the root of a particularly long, downward-extending silver tree.
World Tree. The branches of the machine that created worlds carried a subtle warmth instead of metal’s coldness.
Crackle. Crackle.
Thump. Thump.
“It wasn’t just freeloading. While I fled the outer god’s pursuit, Astraad was holding together Felix Drixiel’s magic, which had long surpassed its limits and could shatter at any moment.”
“Hm?”
Wait a second. Felix’s home and Astraad vanished about 60 years ago. Yggdrasil said she came here 60 years ago too. So does that mean...?
Seeing the realization in my eyes, Yggdrasil gave a small nod.
“...Conversations with you, Professor, were always so convenient. No need for lengthy explanations.”
“You’re right, Hyde. Astraad needed a way to contain the endlessly expanding subspace inside the home, and I needed a place to hide the World Tree’s branch. He had magic; I had the authority to wield the young branch. We simply shared our needs.”
Shared their needs. So—
“This space was created by Astraad borrowing the World Tree’s power.”
“The power was all stolen, so ‘borrowing the concept’ is more accurate. Hm, one moment.”
Splat!
Upon reaching the bottom of the sky island made of letters, Yggdrasil paused and waved her hand.
The ground forming the island scattered into its original letters, becoming a path.
Rustle. Rustle.
“As you know, the World Tree’s authority is world creation.”
“Astraad extracted the concept of ‘the power connecting the players’ world and Gedroits’s world’ from the branch that retained only its concept after losing all power, then wove it into his magic.”
Whoosh—
“But Astraad—”
“Is an NPC. Unlike me, who gained full understanding from the World Tree’s authority, he’s a being ‘inside’ the world. He didn’t know the relationship between the outside world and ours but instinctively grasped it as the ‘power linking inside and outside’ through his grand archmage senses.”
Amid the snowflake-like scattering letters, the upper part of the island began to reveal itself.
I’d thought there’d be some letter-made world since they even built an island, but surprisingly, it was barren.
A young branch of the World Tree piercing the island’s center.
A small house made of letters, apparently where Yggdrasil resided.
And beside it, a small mound.
“...Felix’s home?”
A hemispherical structure formed by multiple overlapping white curves like ribs. Minus the size, it was unmistakably Felix’s home.
Just about knee-high to me.
Yeah. The perfect size for one person to lie in.
Rustle.
Yggdrasil took a small paper flower from her bosom, placed it atop the pile of paper flowers before the mound, and sat in the small chair beside it.
“No way.”
“You’re right again this time.”
Step by step.
Coming to Storm Hill, sensing something unnatural.
Uncovering Astraad’s arrangement, facing a world made of letters, even meeting the unimaginable Yggdrasil.
The accumulating anticipation twisted and shattered like the letters under my feet.
[The Great High Wind Archmage Astraad Dylan Delhast]
[He fulfilled his eternal wish and returned to the wind]
Rustle—
Yggdrasil placed the hemostatic herb from her hand into mine.
I laid that plain flower atop the pile of paper flowers and knelt before it.
“...I met the guy about a century ago, during the Great Imperial War.”
“Is that so.”
“He was so sorry he couldn’t fulfill my request back then, so I was going to say I’d give him a chance to make it up this time... something like that.”
I thought I’d get to see him.
Like the talks I’d had with Yggdrasil on the way here, I thought I could reminisce old times with him too.
“Astraad.”
He closed his eyes in the home he’d lived his whole life in.
Peacefully, as if he’d finally completed all he had to do.
Before that grave, I called Astraad’s name.
I’d just come to pay respects at an old friend’s tomb on the way, and that’s how it turned out.
The only thing that changed was my heart.
****
...Crackle, crackle.
Bonfire.
Bubble bubble bubble bubble.
Clank!
With practiced skill, Yggdrasil gathered letters to start a fire and placed a teapot atop it.
Is it okay to burn stuff like this?
“If it could burn that easily, we could’ve just torched the whole thing.”
“No way it’s that simple. These are letters tied to Felix Drixiel’s grand magic, even if just a part. The physical paper burns, but the embedded magic remains. Burning the letters that embody the magic would eliminate any chance to properly correct it.”
Ah, I see. Totally get it.
“I don’t understand that magic.”
“If you’d burned all the unsent letters, the magic would remain, but the chance to fix it would be gone forever.”
“Aha.”
So now, Astraad’s fixed the magic to allow burning.
Slurp—
“Drinking this will make you feel a bit better.”
“...Feel better about what? I came prepared for this.”
Slurp—
The tea brewed from dried leaves carried a faint scent of paper and ink from storage. I don’t know what improved, but the hot steam warmed my insides and escaped as a sigh.
Yggdrasil, sitting across from me, took in Astraad’s grave and me in turn before speaking.
“Astraad... often said in life that he wanted to be a home for those wandering wind mages. A home isn’t just a place to return to, he said.”
“He had special memories of fatherhood. Even now, wind mages see him as a father figure.”
The memories tied to his father and mentor were beautiful yet sorrowful, etched in Astraad’s heart forever. So he shared that indelible paternal instinct with other families.
As a child, the bold, cute offspring of lonely old mages.
As an adult, their reliable eldest son.
In old age, the father of all winds, guarding the place they could always return to.
That’s why Astraad, unusually long-lived for a grand archmage, stayed in the world.
Unlike other grand archmages who grew closer to nature with achievements and vanished without worldly attachments, Astraad had a reason to remain.
And so, he achieved his own death like this.
“He got what he wanted.”
“Yes. Quite dramatically.”
Yggdrasil pointed upward with her finger.
“The subspace. Filled with letters.”
Then she pointed to the now-small mound that was Felix’s home.
“The legacy of Grand Archmage Felix Drixiel. Its form changed, but it holds all its symbols and meaning, so it’s still Felix’s home.”
“Uh...?”
“The original home and subspace. The subspace contained within the home, and the Felix home composed around it.”
“Wh-what?!”
The World Tree’s concept. Astraad, a being ‘inside’ the world, understood the concept in the young branch as the ‘power linking inside and outside,’ then wove it into magic.
Inside and outside. The outside Felix home became inside, the inner subspace embracing the home became outside.
“He... flipped inside and outside.”
“Correct.”
The unsent letters’ subspace, already past containment and eternally expanding. Instead of forcing it back, let it expand outward endlessly.
The Felix home at the magic’s core becomes the nucleus of the expanding subspace, retaining the original magic’s functions and symbols.
All this occurs on the flip side of the subspace, so it exerts no physical influence on reality. What the expanded subspace leaves is only its magical symbols.
“Then... then...”
“An eternally expanding subspace. In essence, the one homeland where mages can stay.”
Slurp—
Yggdrasil sipped her tea and affirmed.
“Someday, when time passes and the endlessly expanding Felix-Astraad home subspace covers the world, wind mages won’t need to wander anymore.”
“It doesn’t exist in reality, but this flip-side space of symbols overtakes the world... My god.”
The basin that was Storm Hill. Looking back, I’d seen and thought it myself.
[The basin’s area is larger than Felix’s home. But traces of mages lingering... extend to the basin’s edge.]
They could already stay long outside the home’s domain. Now it’s the size called ‘Astraad’s Eye,’ but someday. If the unsent letters’ subspace endlessly expands to cover the world, then someday.
Grand Archmage Astraad’s dream wasn’t just leaving a bit more of the wind homeland in the world.
“The chain of tragedies... he broke it with his own hands.”
So no more wind mages suffer what happened to him, to his father.
Toward the wind mana they love and hate so much. So they can hold only pure love, without ambivalence.
Astraad eradicated the wind mages’ curse, the ‘wandering barrier,’ with his own hands.
He left the Felix home—their house, yet the shackle binding their ‘freedom to stay’—as his small grave like this.
Thus, the grand archmage closed his eyes. No more worldly regrets.
Under the watch of his old friend Yggdrasil and the World Tree’s branch, he closed them contentedly.
‘So that’s it. That’s why.’
Flutter.
I unfolded the letter from Astraad that served as the key to this place.
=========
‘I’m sorry, Hyde. Truly sorry.’
‘I fully understand your noble will, Professor, and the noble resolve you inherited. It moves my heart.’
‘But... I have my own duty. Just as you and the Saint have your mission for your kin, Father and I have ours left. At least, that’s what I believe.’
‘So I cannot help you now.’
‘I’m truly sorry. Truly, truly...’
=========
The letter Astraad sent to Knight-Hyde during the Great Imperial War.
“...Can’t call the guy selfish.”
Like I have people to save, he had family to save, wind mages still wandering the world.
‘Everyone’s looking to the future.’
If anything, I was the selfish one.
My goal is rescuing Professor Park. I brushed aside everything except ‘saving that one person.’
But Astraad dreamed of a world for wind mages to live in after all this ends.
The World Tree hid young branches containing its authority and symbols across the world for a possible ‘next world.’
My goal ends with Professor Park, but they live on. This world was made, but it exists.
And they love this world.
Toss.
The letter thrown into the bonfire crumbled into flames.
“You’re leaving?”
“Yeah, well. Ultimately, I achieved my goal of paying respects at Astraad’s grave. Learned things about him I didn’t know. I’ve spent plenty of leisure time for my busy self, so back to work. Gotta demolish the wrecked Windhold Port, butter up or threaten the lord for a ship across the sea. Oh, and there’s that kid waiting outside. Anyway, nothing more to do here, right?”
“...Hmm.”
As I stood, brushing paper dust from my butt and recalling outside matters, Yggdrasil’s gaze pierced me oddly.
“Hmmmmm.”
“Uh... why? Did I miss something?”
“I’m debating. Whether to say something’s left, or just send you off well.”
Hm? So something is left?
As I turned toward Yggdrasil, she lifted her teacup and pointed to Astraad’s grave.
“I knew someone as perceptive as you would notice.”
“What?”
“Astraad. A grand archmage of immortality closing his eyes means no worldly regrets remain.”
“Right.”
“The letter you just burned. Remember its contents?”
“Yeah, something like ‘I have my own duty, so sorry I can’t help, truly sorry...’”
[Sorry. Truly, truly...]
Whoosh! A spark flashed in my mind.
“Regret!”
“Correct.”
Yggdrasil set down her teacup.
“Astraad remembered the day he lost his mentor and father his whole life. He forever cherished the grace of the burly saint who lifted him from despair and prayed for that father.”
Rustle. Rustle.
“Regret. For failing to repay that profound grace due to personal wishes. That thought lingered until he created this space.”
Rustle, rustle!
“So, this place holds another authority unrelated to wind mages.”
Standing, Yggdrasil parted the pile of paper flowers.
Between them emerged a weathered wooden staff.
Worn, yet emanating extraordinary aura.
A familiar staff with eight holes.
“Astraad’s... staff.”
“It holds his contracts with the winds that recognized and favored him as a grand archmage, and the authority to wield all the power of this near-perpetual Felix/Astraad home. The right to wield it is left solely to you, Hyde.”
“So that’s why ‘this time’ he couldn’t help...”
Unimaginable support. An 8th-circle mage’s—no, containing Felix Drixiel’s grand magic, who already etched history—a ridiculous magic tool holding two 8th-circle grand archmages’ power. Not an overstatement to say it fully commands wind, one of the four primal elements.
‘This rivals the system that approached creator status.’
Astraad left it for me. Not stolen or taken. Left purely for me, so he departed without regret.
A god-like power existing for me, within arm’s reach.
.
.
.
.
Pfft! Heh, hee hee hee hee...
“Ahh, Astraad, you sly bastard...”
So instead of reaching out, I turned away without regret.
“Not taking it, Hyde? It’s Astraad’s gift for you.”
“You too, Yggdrasil? Getting old and finding fun in teasing people?”
“I’m serious.”
“I know, you are.”
To Yggdrasil stepping aside from Astraad’s staff as if it wasn’t too late, I said,
“You hesitated on whether to tell me.”
“...If I take that, this space vanishes, right?”
It holds all of Astraad’s power. Naturally including the power of this infinitely expanding letter space flipping home’s inside and outside.
If pulled, the future Yggdrasil and the World Tree prepared. The world where wind mages gain ‘freedom to stay’ that Astraad dreamed of—gone.
“Heh heh heh! Oy, both of you sly foxes, getting old and craftier... heh heh heh heh!”
Astraad knew that and still closed his eyes without regret.
Meaning he knew I wouldn’t take it.
“Come to think, I forgot—Astraad always had a sly side.”
“Not strange when you consider his idol.”
“Our dad ruined a lot of people that way. Ugh, he got me good! A dodge! A dodge packed with two 8th-circle grand archmages’ power!”
Help? Sure, I got it. Or could. Stride over, yank it out, and I could swing wind authority as Magic-Hyde of my dreams.
But Astraad knew I wouldn’t choose that.
That’s why he closed his eyes without regret.
“Argh, spit! Forget it! Don’t need it! Even with that power, no use for it!”
“Your foe is an outer god nearing creator status. Surely useful.”
“Might be somewhat. But so what? Smash it to bits with overwhelming power? Chase it off somehow, and all this mess is solved?”
I wavered briefly, but what I need now isn’t power. I have enough power prepared.
What I truly need is opportunity. If greedy, heavenly luck.
“The stage for power is past, Yggdrasil.”
“Then...?”
“Who knows. From there, Professor Park’s surely plotted tons. I only know up to saving that guy.”
Fwoosh!
I reached out, opening a hole to outside. Confined wind rushed out, scattering trapped letters wildly.
“Nice meeting you, Yggdrasil.”
“And, Astraad.”
Yggdrasil bowed silently beside Astraad’s grave. For a moment, a soft smile seemed to bloom on her emotionless face.
Then, like using subspace.
The item I imagined in my mind. The old wind mage’s robe outside touched my fingertips.
Flutter flutter!
“Take me! Take me tooo—mmph!”
“Whoa!”
The old mage plummeted atop his body amid the subspace’s countless letters.
“Y-you! You went and came back!”
“Uh, yeah.”
“T-take me! Take me too! I’ll do anything, let me see Father...?!”
“Wh-what?!”
And the old mage clinging and whining after snapping to.
And me, pondering how to shake him off.
And the soldiers and mages rushing from repairing the walls upon the commotion.
Flutter!
We all froze at the sight of countless letters adorning the twilight-darkened sky.
“Letters.”
“Letters... are flying.”
Flutter! Flutter flutter!
“Letter magic!”
“The letter magic’s back!”
One by one, letters appearing from somewhere, dyeing the sky green, headed seaward.
“It’s Lord Astraad!”
“He’s returned! He’s back!”
“Fatherrr!!”
No way.
I followed the mages sprinting madly toward the sea.
Flutter flutter!
The letters filling the sky soon clumped together over the ocean.
“This is... a ship?”
“A ship? What the...”
“Where is Lord Astraad?”
A ship.
A gorgeous paper ship the size of a galleon, wrapped in subtle green glow.
“Pft, pff haha! Khk! Pfhahahahaha!!”
“M-Mute?”
“Twice! He pranked me twice, that bastard! Khahaha!”
Before the bewildered knights and frowning mages, I clutched my sides rolling on the deck. Forgetting Mute’s guise and ancient red mutant mystique, I laughed like a madman.
“Pfahahahaha!”
‘Got me good, Astraad. Real good.’
Leaving the glowing green paper ship and bewildered people behind, I laughed madly.
Back then.
Now.
Even in death.
Astraad was a sly, affectionate guy.
****