Chapter 52
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 52
Chapter Title: The Age of the Covenant
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Elin skimmed through the books she had borrowed from the reading room.
If it had been before, they would have been magic-related texts, but lately, history books took center stage.
Books on myths, specifically.
She still remembered the librarian who had helped her find them shooting her a look of utter surprise.
It was a curiosity she had shelved early on because of Professor Aiden's firm stance...
‘But now I’ve seen it.’
The rune of water.
In its raw, untouched state that modern humanity couldn’t wield.
No, that wasn’t all.
‘Rune, Radon, Elise.’
Tucked away in one corner of her memory was Professor Aiden, solemnly urging her to uphold the pact.
Yes, the pact.
‘The dragon’s eons-old unfulfilled wish, the Age of the Covenant. The spirit of the rapids. Providence.’
She couldn’t imagine a dragon that had forged a lake vast as an ocean would be weak.
It might even surpass the dragon once called the Demon Dragon in strength.
The dragon that ended the Age of Dragons—and simultaneously, ‘the dragon that would one day place the final period on all things.’
The incarnation of destruction, the golden dragon bearing the name of the apocalypse.
‘The Age of the Covenant, the Age of Giants, the Age of Dragons, and... the Great Fall.’
The Age of the Covenant was the era of the runes.
The time when humanity shone most brilliantly, renowned as the lords of creation.
The true era when humanity held purity.
The Age of Giants that followed was the sin of hubris born alongside humanity’s decline.
Beings spawned when humans, empowered by runes to covet the throne of gods, plummeted from grace.
Because of them, humanity was driven to the brink of extinction.
Elin listlessly turned the page.
There, a winged lizard chased terrified, fleeing giants, spewing fire upon them.
Hard to grasp from the illustration alone, she read the small text on the left side of the page.
Dragons born after the Age of Giants existed to devour the giants who had multiplied excessively.
Thus began the Age of Dragons, drawing the Age of Giants to a close.
In that process, humanity—pushed to the verge of annihilation by giants—offered themselves as the dragons’ servants, and the dragons duly repelled the giants.
‘Dragons’ servants.’
Dragonkin.
Those blessed by dragons, mingled with draconic blood.
They were the dragons’ kin and vassals.
The Age of Dragons ended when no giants remained to devour, and the dragons turned their gaze to other lifeforms.
Feral dragons then scorched the earth in flames, froze it solid, and blanketed it in poisonous mists.
Upon that ravaged land rose the golden dragon, ushering in the twilight of the Age of Dragons—the one early dubbed the Demon Dragon, embodiment of sacred ruin.
The golden dragon that inspired unadulterated fear and worship.
‘And then the Great Fall?’
No giants. No dragons.
The two who had long claimed dominion retreated, some to the depths below, others to the skies above.
Chaos reigned on the surface, so they clashed like rabid dogs for supremacy anew.
From that strife, demons were born—devouring human flesh and grudges amid war to swell into colossal horrors.
The Great Demons.
Harbingers of the Great Fall, the moment demons unveiled their ambitions.
“The races who withstood that, too exhausted for further war, united to birth the world?”
Haa... She closed the book—more myth than history. No wonder some claimed ancient chronicles were flawed.
Stretching languidly, she wriggled onto the lounge bed.
Her gaze drifted toward Aiden over there, instructing Radia-senpai and the others.
Isel-senpai groaned amid them too.
Surveying the scene, a question slipped past her lips.
“But if it’s true?”
Myths were myths because they were fiction.
No one believed the Holy See’s preached gospels of creation.
Few took the runes’ existence at face value from mythic records.
‘That obsession, though—that much is real.’
Unlike modern magic, forged from strokes, shapes, and arrays, runes manifested in unfathomable ways.
Scholars had fuel aplenty for their fervor.
Yet few believed runes could truly sunder seas or rend skies.
Lately, more dismissed them as mere primitive magic.
Words that would send rune-restoration zealots into fits...
‘Chasing cultural relics they’ll never restore anyway.’
But what of her?
Elin shut her eyes.
‘I’ve confirmed the runes’ existence, and now I know the origin of the power within Elise. No—part of that power resides in me now.’
The tear of the limpid lake—the ancient dragon’s tear.
It dwelled within her body.
Hand to her chest, Elin drew a deep breath.
One searing droplet of heat.
The unmelted essence blazed within, forging a pearl.
Superficial grasp so far, yet its horrifying potency pulsed.
‘The moment it fully assimilates into my body...’
Greatest mage alive? No dream.
No—it would happen. Certainty absolute.
That lens: could she truly dismiss the runes?
‘The hubris that sought godhood through rune might.’
Had rogue mages chased runes from pure academic zeal?
Even braving forbidden taboos?
Doubtful.
“There’s something—something more.”
Her gaze snapped to Professor Aiden.
She drank in the blond professor’s image, then shook her head.
In the end, only he knew it all.
She quelled the pout tugging her lips.
‘Infuriating.’
Ask, and he’d brush it off: no need to know.
Hmph. Hmph.
“Whew.”
Soft sigh escaped as she rose.
“Professor Aiden has ties to Professor Prezel, right?”
Prezel might know more.
Someone Aiden met—had to be safe.
Even so, Prezel couldn’t be an insider.
Elin stepped out briskly.
Never dreaming Aiden would intervene.
* * *
Spotting Elin exit the lab, I glanced away briefly.
Then dismissed it—I couldn’t micromanage every move.
‘No grounds for that either.’
The beast tamer fixated on Elise might leverage Elin as hostage, so my vigilance made sense...
‘But cocooning her tight? Impossible.’
True, I cherished Elin and the protagonists.
Yet blocking their paths? No.
They overcame trials, come what may.
Nurture, don’t hinder.
That in mind...
“Radia, more confidence. No need to shrink from the outset—consider force dynamics. Relax the arm at rest; on thrust, one straight line.”
“My swordsmanship...”
“Whirled in the vortex, you achieve nothing. Your vortex isn’t sloppy chaos. One unifying flow must pierce it all.”
Sweat-soaked Radia panted, wiping her mouth.
Dissatisfaction flickered in her honed torso.
“How do you know my family’s secret style so well, Professor...”
No words—just aura summoned, birthing a feathery vortex.
It grew one, two; Radia’s eyes shifted.
At a dozen-plus, it shaped like a river surging, then pooling.
Whirlpool current.
Radia fell silent.
“‘All flows return to one’—obvious at a glance. Imperfect mimicry aside, its martial truths are graspable.”
“...Normal?”
“Maze, Oshua copying every spell with a glance—logical?”
“Fair point.”
Radia eyed me, stunned.
“Sometimes I truly realize how incredible you are, Professor.”
I stared, incredulous.
Sometimes incredible—the rest, not?
Catching my look, Radia backpedaled frantically.
“I mean, uh... er...”
“P-Professor’s just that approachable! Right, Radia-senpai?!”
“Y-Yeah.”
Isel’s timely backup earned Radia’s nod.
Arion, watching afar, snickered.
“No expression shifts, yet your emotions swing wildly, Professor?”
Muscles still, yet feelings palpable.
How’d he tell?
‘I’d kill to learn that.’
Truth: I needed it more than Arion.
Faces barely registered as human to me.
Lest thoughts drag to that homeroom teacher again, I sighed.
“I’m ever solemn, Arion.”
“Public image fits.”
The aloof genius prof, emotions veiled.
Students’ meteoric gains? Guaranteed.
Lecture ratings soared with each session.
‘Need to dial it back...’
Aura or martial arts users like Radia, Arion wouldn’t notice—but magic-major Elin? Nothing apt to teach.
Beyond her, future transfers needed other profs.
Original plot: Aiden’s return to Pisvolt meant a temp prof.
Elf mage, great mage title inbound...
‘Not Oshua-tier, but great mage? Top-tier pillar.’
Renowned or not, era limit: ten.
Ascendancy demanded surpassing the ten.
Elf proved hers.
Martial void filled; magic, spirits—she’d groom protagonists ahead.
‘No—practical disaster hit.’
Principal seat.
Nominal post once, but crisis demanded bolstering.
Tunnel fiasco would cement it.
Barring imperial shutdown of Ri Sete Academy, parents needed placating proof.
I was here—half-rehab, though.
‘Even sans that, frontline exposure bred issues.’
Non-issues turned problematic via my action.
Imperial specials likely: confirmed great mage as principal, say.
Faint smile tugged my lips.
“Something good?”
Isel, chugging water, glanced over.
“You lot heaving from this? Amusing.”
Radia and Isel’s faces froze in unison.
...Slip.
Intended: ‘Diligent effort looks great.’
Twisted beyond?
Aiden’s phrasing aside—intent stood.
Mid-gulp, Isel halted.
“...Professor can be mean sometimes...”
“Build stamina then.”
Shot a glare at sulky Isel, regripped the sword.
“Again.”
Radia halted break, eyed me.
Tunnel neared—I assented.
Arion alone lounged, wind-whispering the scene.