Chapter 6

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Translator: MadScientist

Chapter: 6

Chapter Title: Invitation

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It felt like a message holding back a torrent of words. Though I couldn't see her face, emotions pressed tightly between the lines seeped through.

I was curious how Anonymous 2 would react to the provocation, but she chose to ignore it.

Instead of responding to Anonymous 1, a message arrived that seemed directed at me.

Anonymous 2 seemed eager to request something. Her repeated mentions of a deal made her intentions clear.

But I wasn't the one who replied.

What can I say—Anonymous 1 was voicing my own reaction for me.

Her brutally honest personality made it impossible for her to hold back curiosity.

For me, who planned to silently observe, it was actually helpful.

Judging from Oz and Ellis's reactions, I wasn't much of an actor. So staying quiet and watching was far better than chiming in.

But Anonymous 2 seemed determined to ignore Anonymous 1 to the end.

Oh, quite a bold proposal. Was she confident in her resources?

I thought she was the cautious, rational type, but she showed unexpected boldness here. Or maybe my silence irked her, pushing her to force an opening somehow.

As expected, Anonymous 2 clearly had deep knowledge of magic.

She seemed to have grasped the manaphone's built-in functions in a short time.

Anonymous 1 went silent for a while.

Was she finally figuring out how the function worked?

Her personality was crystal clear.

Lying on my bed, I glanced at the manaphone screen and let out a chuckle.

Their bickering was entertaining to watch, but one concern lingered: the conversation wasn't progressing at all.

From the writing alone, their personalities seemed completely at odds.

Sure enough, Anonymous 2 started ignoring her again.

Hmm... Let me sum it up. Anonymous 2: calm and cautious type. Classic mage mindset—analytical and logical. Likes deals, conflict-avoidant.

Anonymous 1, on the other hand: emotions, words, and actions all flow straight through one channel. Extremely straightforward, strong self-confidence. Almost naive in some ways.

Could these two ever mesh?

The chat room fell quiet.

Anonymous 2 showed no interest in responding to 1 anymore, and I was holding back too, offering no reactions.

If things stayed like this, Anonymous 1 might toss out a few more lines before losing interest entirely.

With no choice, I typed a few words.

At that moment, Celine, who had returned to her lodging, sat at a small table.

Her gaze drifted past the slate into the empty air beyond.

Continuing the conversation with Anonymous 1 might lead her to blurt out words she'd never voiced in her life.

Born into the noble bloodline called High Elves, she had lived her days exalted for her exceptional talent.

How dare someone treat her with such rudeness.

The absurdity of it all—her first time feeling this way—and an unquenchable anger stirred her heart into turmoil.

Then, a single line floated above the slate.

Celine's expression grew serious again.

It seemed like a simple question, but something deeper lurked beneath.

...Was he testing her? As if to say, how could you possibly know what I want?

Since she'd offered an appropriate price, it might be natural for her to reveal what that price was first.

But this attitude felt so foreign to her.

Looking down from above, as if it were the most natural thing.

The problem was, it didn't repulse her like Anonymous 1 did—it felt utterly natural.

Maybe her assumption that this being distributed the artifact for secret deals was wrong.

What if it was a means to a far grander purpose?

She had no way to find out now.

Then again... presuming she could easily grasp the thoughts of such a being might be arrogance itself.

Unknowingly, a corner of her mind had begun casting that existence as a great mother figure.

Celine hesitated with her fingers, unable to type a reply.

Then Anonymous 1's message arrived.

Celine's lips pursed involuntarily.

She'd been focusing, and here came the nonsense again. Turn off that voice recognition already.

Still, as someone deeply interested in the world beyond Silvarion, she knew plenty about the Belheim Empire.

The mightiest and oldest human nation. And the place she'd always dreamed of visiting someday.

But calling it a kingdom was a bit off.

Lack of common knowledge?

Celine was so dumbfounded she pulled her hand from the slate for a moment.

Treating her like a merchant wasn't enough—now a peddler?

She'd heard the term peddler wasn't even commonly used in this era.

Was it deliberate to insult her further? Or was this an ancient geezer who'd lived longer than her? Or just a dimwit whose language skills had atrophied?

The ambiguity made it all the more infuriating.

It was unexpected.

I'd figured she'd bulldoze through, but surprisingly, Anonymous 1 acquiesced easily.

Still as self-willed as ever, but Celine felt a twinge of curiosity.

...It was something she'd fleetingly considered herself.

Really... a grander purpose beyond mere transactions?

Was that truly the reason?

At that instant, the being who had been silently watching dropped a single line.

Celine sank into thought. It felt like she was getting swept up in some massive current without realizing it.

At that moment.

I bolted upright in bed.

"Why does this keep veering off in weird directions...?"

Freedom, freedom.

I kept dropping hints like that, so why did everyone twist it into something bizarre?

'Side effect of the word "invitation"?'

I'd thought that one phrase would smooth things over, but it backfired unexpectedly.

They'd found the hidden manaphones themselves, yet they kept talking like I'd orchestrated some grand conspiracy by "gathering" them.

'Can't exactly backtrack and change my words now...'

Just then, a knock came at the door.

Knock knock.

"Young Master, you have a guest."

Ah, right.

Now that I thought about it, a guest was due today.

I swung my upper body up and hopped out of bed. I set aside the complicated thoughts for now.

I lightly raised my hand. Mana instantly gathered at my fingertips, sending out a subtle ripple.

The ripple enveloped the room, and in the otherwise empty space—save for me—something began bustling about.

Shrrk.

The first to react was the wardrobe in the corner.

Beyond the smoothly opening doors, a neatly arranged outfit quietly revealed itself.

The perfect attire for receiving a guest. Of course, it was a combination I'd personally set to my tastes.