Chapter 33
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: Spirit Magic (2)
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Jeromos, the dean of the Summoning Magic department, was thought to be the primary reason for Amelin's corruption.
I'd heard her story, but considering Trond—the cause of Kirigumo and Tenka's downfall—this man was clearly no decent sort either.
Even as a prince, I couldn't just storm in and kill Jeromos on a whim.
Still, I had a feeling the day would come when I'd have to face him.
'If there were truly no issues left, the notification would have popped up saying Amelin's fate had been saved by now.'
To get a read on Jeromos's current situation first, I sent a letter to the academy asking what the dean of Amelin's former department was up to.
The reply that came back was this:
The moment I'd sent my protest letter last time, Dean Jeromos had been slapped with a three-month suspension.
In other words, he wasn't at the academy right now.
'From what Amelin told me, he's probably harboring pointless resentment toward her at this very moment.'
Whether it came to fighting Jeromos directly or going to the academy myself to threaten him not to lay a finger on her anymore, I needed to prepare for the worst-case scenario.
My opponent was a mage who'd climbed all the way to department dean.
Amelin might have greater potential, but in terms of raw current skill, he'd be stronger than her.
And no matter how overflowing with talent I was now, I didn't delude myself into thinking I could easily beat an academy dean-level powerhouse.
In short, I needed to grow stronger.
Drawing on my Savior of World experience, the fastest way for me to power up right now—while making battles smoother—was...
"Amelin, let's test if you can use spirit magic now."
Spirit magic.
"S-Spirit magic, you say?"
"Yeah? Honestly, I feel like it'd work great for me at this point."
"...You're probably right."
Spirit magic.
In Savior of World, it was a means of summoning spirits that could pull aggro as tanks while serving as powerful sub-DPS.
Spirits gave off the vibe of natural beings tied to specific elements.
The game did have lore like that for some, but spirits came in incredibly diverse varieties.
Some embodied elements for easier attribute attacks, while others were souls of animals or humans who'd become part of nature, treated as spirits.
A few nobles even had great ancestors who'd become spirits contracted exclusively to their bloodline.
'Of course, in the dark fantasy story, they end up corrupted by evil gods along with their ancestors' souls and turn into boss enemies that attack together.'
Either way, having a spirit made fights a breeze.
By lore, as long as you supplied mana, you could resummon them even if they fell, after some time.
At my request, Amelin drew the magic circle for spirit summoning. Word that I was attempting it spread through the estate, drawing everyone to watch.
"It's such a big deal that everyone's coming to gawk?"
"It's your spirit summoning retry, Lord Aren. You've shown such jaw-dropping growth so far—everyone's dying to see what kind of spirit you'll get."
They were all so interested in me.
It made me grateful, knowing they were all following my lead because of that.
"I-I'm ready!"
"Alright, then. Let's begin."
I nicked my finger with a knife and let the blood drip onto the prepared magic circle.
Then, infusing it with mana, I chanted the incantation.
The first time I'd tried this, the circle showed no reaction at all, so I'd been deemed utterly talentless in spirit magic.
But what about now, with the Supreme Physique perk?
I waited with those expectations.
The magic circle did nothing.
'Looks like spirit magic really is a whole different realm...'
That's what I was thinking when—
Wooooong!
Suddenly, a blinding light burst from the magic circle.
"Whoa, what a light!"
"Has His Highness awakened talent in spirit magic too?!"
"As expected of Your Highness!"
"I've never seen a summoning circle shine like this!"
"My lord! Incredible!"
"The spirit fit for His Highness must be...!"
Everyone stared at the glowing circle in anticipation.
And when the light finally faded...
""......?"
Nothing was on the magic circle.
"Wh-What?"
"Why's nothing there?"
"Amelin? Did something go wrong?"
"I-I drew the circle perfectly..."
Everyone was baffled when—
Woooong!
Woooooong!
Woong!
Woooooong!
The circle suddenly started shining fiercely, then dimming, over and over in irregular bursts.
"Wh-What's happening now!?"
"The circle's malfunctioning!"
"Is it gonna explode?!"
"Wh-What's going on, Lady Amelin?!"
"I-I don't know! What the heck is this!?"
Unlike the human world where ordinary people lived normal lives, the spirit realm was home to beings called spirits.
Contracted spirits lived by receiving mana through their link to their summoner and crossing dimensions as needed.
Uncontracted ones lazed away their endless boredom, waiting for a human whose conditions matched theirs.
When someone activated a spirit summoning circle, every spirit in the realm could sense the power of the blood offered through it.
They judged the mana, talent, and essence within, and if it suited them, crossed over.
When a human perfectly matched their desired conditions, higher-grade, more powerful spirits claimed priority.
Weaker spirits avoided needless fights—knowing they couldn't win anyway—and quietly stepped aside.
Then, through one such circle, the blood essence of a single individual spread across the spirit realm.
The moment every spirit sensed it, not a single one reacted.
No, they couldn't react on the surface.
Because none of them could believe it.
It was blood they couldn't judge.
Blood whose essence they couldn't grasp.
Not unknown blood.
It brimmed with such boundless potential and purer-than-pure mana that no one could fathom its limits.
But the spirits sensed it instinctively.
This blood's owner would become an unprecedented contractor.
The potential in this blood held the power to reshape the very order of things.
Even the weakest spirit, linking paths with this blood, would gain immense power in no time.
And with that realization, spirits strong and weak alike went utterly berserk as a group.
Countless spirits rushed to cross dimensions toward the circle, desperate to contract with this blood's owner.
In the spirit realm—where rank had always been decided by raw sensed power, and weaklings never dared challenge the strong—a massive brawl erupted where hierarchy meant nothing.
Spirits strong enough for speech bickered even as they fought to be first through the dimensional link to the circle.
One would nearly touch it, only to be yanked back; another would drag it down, then sneak in itself and get caught, dragged away in turn. This repeated endlessly.
That was why Aren and the others saw endless flashes of light.
Multiple beings teetering on the brink of summoning, only to be interrupted, made the circle flicker irregularly.
And amid this endless chaos, one tiny spirit slowly, steadily made its way toward the circle.
Unlike others with elements and traits, it was so small it lacked any real attributes or features yet—thriving purely on mana for nourishment. A good little spirit.
A tiny piglet.
A mini-pig-shaped spirit.
Pathetically small and unassuming, it seemed doomed to get swept up in the fray without getting close.
The other spirits ignored it entirely.
It harbored no desire to grow stronger or rise in rank.
It simply felt drawn to the pure mana from the circle.
Drawn to the embracing warmth that seemed to hold room for everything.
No one would've thought such a spirit could even reach the circle, let alone cross over.
Any stronger spirit nearby would've brushed it aside easily.
But the spirit realm was consumed by countless spirits in a frenzied brawl to go first.
Even legendary-grade powerhouses with lore-spanning might were among them.
[That contractor's mine!]
[You think I'd let you have them?!]
Kwaaaaaang!
The clash of legendary spirits unleashed shockwaves of power.
Fearing they'd be hurled away from the circle, spirits braced in place against the aftermath.
But one frail being couldn't withstand even the aftershocks: the mini-pig spirit.
A tiny spirit flung helplessly by the force.
No spirit in the realm foresaw it.
That a spirit too weak for aftershocks would be hurled straight into—and become the first to reach—the circle.
Woooong!
"Ah, shining again."
"How many times is this now?"
"Never seen anything like this before. As expected of Your Highness."
Five minutes had already passed with the circle repeatedly flashing like this.
If it had done nothing at all, they'd have given up, but these teases of success kept them glued in place.
'When the hell is this gonna end?'
That's what I was thinking when—
Woong!
It flashed once, very briefly.
And finally, a spirit appeared atop the circle.
Appropriately translucent, like a spirit should be.
But its form was...
"A pig?"
A tiny-bodied, pig-shaped spirit.