Celebration and the Beginning of the Wind (4)
The silver lump in my hand was Mithril. Among all metals circulating in the market, it was the hardest and most expensive. Even if you offered five times its weight in pure gold, the seller still wouldn’t part with it.
‘Holy shit.’
I peeled back the cloth and nearly lost my mind. To someone without the eyes to see mana, the silver chunk might have looked like ordinary iron. Hell, even I might not have recognized it before awakening my mana vision. Honestly, I didn’t know until I actually touched it. Mithril doesn’t leak even a single drop of mana until it makes contact with skin.
It was said that mithril tightly grips mana and prevents it from leaking outward. Today was the first time I’d seen it for myself.
Rare metal with extremely high mana affinity! That was exactly why mithril was so ridiculously valuable.
‘Normal metals reject mana.’
Metals are born when rocks are compressed deep underground, right? Metals steeped in powerful earth mana naturally repel and bounce away any other type of mana. Like water on a hot griddle.
‘That’s why the only way to enchant metal is to keep pumping mana into it nonstop.’
It was the same reason Tabula’s iron mask had a wooden talisman stuck on it separately. It was also why the blacksmith Clara struggled so much running her specialty weapons shop. Without rare metals like mithril, you couldn’t properly infuse granting magic, but rare metals were insanely expensive.
Price? Monster materials were way cheaper. Hardness? Monster materials were far tougher. Offensive power? Slapping granting magic on monster materials gave much stronger results.
‘Which is exactly why mithril is straight-up broken.’
It accepted mana beautifully while still being metal. The material was both sturdy and lightweight, and refining it was simple. Unlike monster materials that each had such strong personalities that maintenance methods differed from piece to piece, mithril was easy to care for. Fuck, it really had nothing but advantages.
Why else would mithril sit at the absolute top of the adventurer gear ranking? It was because this metal was just that insanely good!
“Aigoo!! Thank you so much!! As expected of a Mythril-class adventurer, your generosity is on another level!!”
Before I knew it, my spine had reflexively bent into a deep bow. I turned into a grilled squid on a gas stove, just like my senior who got five nights and six days of special leave as a reward!
“Yeah.”
But despite my heartfelt ass-kissing, Nefertiti only answered in that flat, indifferent tone. Seriously, that bald farming elf bastard from who-knows-where was the same way. Did people here become emotionally castrated the moment they got strong? Why were they all so damn cool about everything?
‘Anyway, jackpot!’
I couldn’t stop grinning at the light yet substantial weight of the mithril. There was enough mithril in circulation that it wasn’t the kind of thing that would make rich people lose their minds. The clueless masses wouldn’t recognize its value, and even people who could see mana like me wouldn’t know it was mithril until they touched it.
‘Which means it’s not dangerous to carry around!’
In this other world, walking around armed with expensive weapons was as suicidal as a high schooler wearing a North Face puffer jacket into the back alley where the school gangsters smoked. Back on Earth, I’d suffered so much because of those shameless upperclassmen!
—Hey. Lend me that for a sec. C’mon, I’ll give it back after I use it.
—Whoa, that bastard’s running! Get him!
Goodbye forever to those shitty memories that kept popping up! Carrying a mithril weapon around would never cause any trouble! Even if I made a +5 Execution Sword out of this, no one would ever know!
I forced my face—which was about to split open from grinning—back into a neutral expression with sheer willpower and cleared my throat. It wouldn’t do to look too pathetic in my joy.
“I’ll make good use of it, Nefertiti. I just happened to lose my weapon, so this is a huge help.”
“Mithril. Not much. If making, spear good.”
“Thank you for the advice. I’ll keep it in mind.”
Was she telling me to become a spearman? If so, I wouldn’t be satisfied with just any old spearman. With this, I’d craft a glaive and become the all-knowing Guan Yu wielding the Blue Dragon Glaive. The isekai version of a chuuni Guan Yu. Hehe, fuck yeah, I’m pumped!
“That aside… I feel a bit ashamed asking this after receiving such a wonderful gift, but may I ask you a few questions?”
“Yes.”
Her answer came with a 0.1-second time lag, leaving me momentarily stunned before I asked what I was curious about.
“What kind of bad blood do you have with the black mage Abidus? I’ve also fought a warrior hiding his identity in a black robe, so I’d really appreciate it if you could tell me.”
“Warrior…?”
Nefertiti pondered for a moment before answering.
“Probably unrelated. If not black mage.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. Abidus is member of Immortalis. But mid-level personnel. Not even an executive.”
“Immortalis. Immortal, is it.”
It was an ancient word from the nearly dead Romanian language. I could understand the meaning. A fitting name for a secret society of black mages.
‘But that monster was only a middle manager? Fuck, how many times am I going to doubt my own ears today?’
I did remember. That bastard had shouted that if he turned Nefertiti into a golem, he could become an executive! Still, who would ever think that a black mage capable of fighting a Mythril-class adventurer head-on was just middle management!
‘If Abidus is only a department head at Mythril-class, then the chairman must be Grand Master tier.’
Had I been marked? I had no choice if I wanted to survive and return alive, but I was starting to regret sticking my nose out so much. As I grew anxious, Nefertiti seemed to notice and spoke.
“Immortalis is individualistic group. No need to worry about revenge.”
“I-I see. That’s a relief to hear. So… what’s your connection with them, Nefertiti?”
“……Enemies I will someday destroy. That’s all.”
Ah, this was a topic I shouldn’t touch. The moment her already wooden voice turned to ice, I wisely shut my mouth. If you wanted to live long, you had to read the room.
“S-Sorry for prying. Um, the other companions seem like they’ll be a bit late. Would you like to wait inside the inn’s tavern?”
“No. Came to see you.”
That somehow sounded a little romantic. If I were a woman, I might have fallen for her.
“I’m returning to Narmer-Nile.”
The cold atmosphere softened again as Nefertiti spoke. So she really had come to Sargadis to chase Abidus. It had felt strange for a third-job Mythril-class adventurer to be in a mid-level hunting ground like this. Maybe the balance of our neighborhood hunting zone would finally return to normal.
“You won’t be attending the celebration banquet?”
“Never interested from beginning.”
“I see.”
If my earlier deduction was correct, it might actually be good manners for her not to attend. It would be weird for someone who was about to leave to be at a banquet celebrating Sargadis’s adventurers.
—Swish.
Nefertiti turned to leave, but then stopped and looked back at me.
“……This is tip for training.”
—Swish.
She pulled out a short whip and struck a pose as if demonstrating.
“First, perfect the foundational technique. As accurately as possible. Enough that you can do it in your dreams.”
It was an incredibly abrupt explanation. Still, I could tell from her sincere effort to teach me that she was grateful.
—Rustle rustle.
I pulled out the notebook I always carried and started jotting it down. This was insider information from a veteran of the industry. I needed to take notes.
“The foundational stance, and then?”
“From there, change it little by little. Faster. Or stronger. And more of them.”
After giving the hard-to-understand explanation, Nefertiti filled in the gaps with action. The whip writhed like a snake and lashed wildly.
—Crack!
—Bang!
—Crack!!!
Shushushushushk!
The four lashes each felt completely different. If the first demonstration felt precise and ordinary, the second was the same attack but much faster. The third seemed like a power-adjusted version of the strike that finished off the giant golem, and the fourth was a reproduction of the consecutive barrage that had shredded the golem swarm.
‘So it means starting from the foundation and modifying it?’
I felt like I was starting to get it. I wrote down Nefertiti’s words and asked about the part I still didn’t quite understand.
“So you’re saying I should first perfect a single attack motion? And then adapt that technique differently depending on the situation?”
“Similar. This is basic training.”
Nefertiti put the whip away and continued.
“Create systematic attacks like magic formulas. Just set the path inside your body where your mana moves most comfortably and familiarly. The technique created that way will be the strongest and fastest.”
“The path where mana moves most comfortably and familiarly…”
I wrote it down quickly. She probably wouldn’t explain it again if I asked later.
—Scribble scribble scribble!
I even used Beast Regression to write faster. Nefertiti watched me with a look of fascination.
“You’ve never learned how to fight.”
“Pardon? Ah, no, I haven’t. It’s not something to brag about, but I had nowhere to learn.”
“No. Doesn’t matter who taught you. When you fight, everyone naturally creates techniques that suit their own personality and body.”
It was a statement filled with enlightenment, like something an Olympic gold medalist would say. Just how old was this woman? She was definitely older than me.
“Even if you start from the same martial school, the destination will be different. Like my Desert Snake.”
“I see.”
So did that mean I would eventually create my own original school of techniques? That part actually got me excited. I’d have to come up with badass names like Nord-style Wave Arts, Professor Rock Fist, or Avant-garde Constitutional Fist.
I was busy imagining the 108 secret ultimate techniques that the future Master Nord would unleash when Nefertiti waved her hand.
“Goodbye. Take care.”
What a detached farewell. It was so cool that for a second I didn’t even realize it was a goodbye. I bowed my head.
“Yes. Have a safe journey.”
“Mm.”
After we exchanged greetings, Nefertiti leaped.
—Tap!
Her light jump carried her figure out of sight in the blink of an eye. The senior adventurer who had somehow gotten entangled with me so often left Sargadis like that and returned to her homeland.
I wondered if we would meet again someday. It would be nice if, by then, both Nefertiti and I had completed our respective revenges.
“I’m back☆!”
“Welcome back.”
Franc and Larilura returned to the inn about thirty minutes before sunset. Their refreshed expressions suggested they’d had a very satisfying shopping trip.
“Did you two have a good time?”
“Ahaha♡! Of course! Turns out spending money really is the most fun and happiest thing in the world, right?”
Having realized this eternal truth, Larilura gathered up her share of the bags and headed to her room.
“Look forward to the party day☆! When you see the complete transformation of Big Sis Franc and me, even you’ll faint from shock, Senior!”
She didn’t forget to say that on her way out either. But seriously, there was still a whole week left. Did I really have to keep waiting?
I looked at Franc with that exact meaning in my eyes.
“……Um, Nord.”
Then Franc whispered shyly into my ear.
“I… wore the new underwear I bought.”
“What?”
My eyes instantly locked onto Franc’s chest. It was the usual casual outfit she wore when going out, but hearing those words made it feel ridiculously erotic for some reason.
Franc set down her shopping bag and placed her hands on her chest.
“……Want to see?”
“Franc, do you want to watch me lose my mind?”
Grrrrr! I can’t hold back anymore!
The sound of me pushing Franc onto the bed and climbing on top signaled the beginning of a hot night.
‘Master’s degree! I’m striking!’
The 3-silver underwear was fucking sexy.
That night, I had a dream.
In the dream, I stood beneath an enormous tree holding a staff. An indescribable rage swirled inside the body that gazed out over the dreamy horizon.
“……Not enough.”
The ‘me’ in the dream muttered as I touched my own face. Half-unconsciously, I realized this wasn’t my own story. It felt like I was peeping into someone else’s dream while becoming that person. Strangely, though, it didn’t feel unpleasant. Maybe because it was a dream. My consciousness felt no discomfort and simply continued listening to the story within the dream.
“A sacrifice is needed.”
‘I’ said it with my own mouth. Information without emotion flowed into my head like reading text from a newspaper. A sacrifice was necessary. But offering up someone else was out of the question.
‘I’ agonized over what to do. How many days had I spent sitting in meditation beneath the tree? After staring at the sky and pondering for a long time, ‘I’ reached a realization so clear it made me want to slap my own knee.
“That’s it. I just need to offer myself as the sacrifice.”
It was an absurd conclusion. But the moment ‘I’ muttered those words, the scene changed. Fade out. Fade in.
The ‘me’ in the dream was nailed to the giant tree with a spear. There weren’t many beings in the nine thousand worlds who could do this to ‘me,’ who possessed such absurd power. The spear that pierced my heart was something ‘I’ had done myself. ‘I’ had offered myself up as a sacrifice to myself.
Logically it was nothing more than wordplay, but with the experience of having done similar things several times before and with vast knowledge, ‘I’ had made it possible.
“……………………………….”
Becoming a sacrifice and looking down upon the world was not a particularly pleasant experience. However, the knowledge gained from death and the price of using a single ‘god’ as sacrifice was sweet.
On the first day, I learned of the existence of the cow submerged in the sea of blood of the primordial god.
On the second day, I learned of the existence of ‘us’ gods.
On the third day, I learned of the existence of what we rode upon and the burning world.
The fourth day. The fifth day. The sixth day. The seventh day. The eighth day. And the ninth day.
After being offered as a sacrifice for a total of nine days, ‘I’ descended back to the ground once the ritual ended. Perhaps because I had gained so much knowledge at the cost of my life, the rage I felt toward the unknown things existing inside ‘me’ had greatly subsided.
Feeling refreshed for the first time in decades, ‘I’ muttered.
“Eighteen letters. Eighteen magics.”
After pondering for a very long time about what to call the achievement gained from the nine-day ritual, ‘I’ whispered.
“Let’s call this 【Ochd Deug】.”
——Wait, that doesn’t sound like a name at all.
For the first time while dreaming, my personal impression rose to the surface. As if that had been the trigger, my consciousness detached from ‘my’ body and sank deep into the ground.
—Whooooosh!
As I sank into a warm swamp, I could finally see what ‘I’ looked like. It was a small-statured woman wearing a white hat. The eyepatch covering half her face looked deeply sunken, and the spear held in her left hand was stained with her dried, crusted blood.
“Aah. But it’s still not enough.”
The woman, whose white clothes were stained black with dried blood, licked her lips with regret as she looked up at the World Tree.
“I want to know more. Everything I still don’t know.”
“……What a fucking lunatic.”
I woke from the dream and muttered those words. From head to toe in pure white fashion, she was the kind of crazy psycho woman who would make you piss yourself if you ran into her on the street. She was the very model of a mad scientist. Well, to be precise, she probably wasn’t even a ‘person.’
“Ugh, fuck, my head hurts… What time is it?”
I got up while rubbing my throbbing head. Had I gotten hit in the back of the head while having sex with Franc last night? My head hurt so badly I could barely stay sane.
That was probably why.
“You have awakened, my lord.”
I hadn’t realized I was still dreaming.
—Rustle.
A woman with sheep horns wearing a white dress looked down at me. The moment I realized what was going on, I lay back down in the meadow and let out a sigh.
“No, I feel like I’m still in the middle of sleeping.”