Something More Precious Than Truth (1)
Something More Precious Than Truth (1)
One spring day.
The season when winter slumbers and life sprouts.
On such a day, Melina was sold.
She had not been seized by slavers, nor brutalized by bandits. She was simply sold—by her parents.
Seven silvers.
That was Melina's value.
The merchant did not even ask Melina's name. He merely locked her in an iron cage to prevent escape and handed her hard bread and a little water once a day. That was all.
'Delicious.'
But even that was several times more delicious than grass roots.
The wagon carrying Melina rattled. The merchant spat curses as he hauled a boy's corpse off the road.
— Damn it. Why do beggar brats always die right in the damn road?
Melina knew the reason.
Because it was spring.
The bark had not yet grown, and not even new shoots had sprouted. Spring at this stage was nothing more than a warm winter.
Begging was impossible at this time. The previous year's harvest had run dry over the winter, so no one had anything to spare.
Spring is at times more cruel than winter. It tortures the starving with pathetic hope, as if promising to feed them their fill.
Those already at their limit could not endure this season. That was why they gave up like that.
The wagon stopped. Iron cages stretched in every direction. It was a slave market.
— Gladiator slave, ten gold each!
— Sturdy boy, two gold!
Unlike the other slaves who were snapped up in an instant, Melina did not sell for a week. Not because her commodity value was low. Because no one with the means to purchase her had appeared.
A Jewel Eye meant outstanding potential. Not every Archmage possessed a Jewel Eye, but everyone with a Jewel Eye inevitably became an Archmage.
And Melina possessed a golden Jewel Eye, the first of its kind in all of history.
— Come now, an elf caught in the Great Forest! Starting at one hundred gold!
— Two hundred!
— Three hundred!
In one week, young Melina grasped the way of the world.
Pay a commensurate value, and receive a corresponding value in return.
Truly rational.
— Idiots.
Melina cursed her parents into the empty air.
Melina's parents were fools. Ignorant people who did not even know what value their own daughter held.
— ...
She was not worth a mere seven silvers. If they had bargained just once, they could have gotten a hundred times that much.
If they had, she would never have had to eat tree bark for the rest of her life.
— Stupid idiots.
If only they had sold her for her true worth, at least they could have lived with full bellies forever.
What on earth did they intend to do with seven silvers?
Another week passed.
Countless people gathered to buy Melina. But perhaps because of the staggering price, no one readily stepped forward.
One day, the slaver handed her soft wheat bread instead of hard barley bread. For the first time in her life, she tasted cow's milk. The bath was warm, and the new clothes were soft.
At some point, sleeping in a bed became routine.
Another week passed.
— Read it.
Melina learned letters. The first book she read after mastering the Common Language was not a fairy tale but a basic Magic Book.
On the first day she received the Magic Book, Melina conjured a flame before everyone's eyes.
— Now, everyone! Behold! A Jewel Eye—and a golden one at that, never once seen in history! Staggering talent that grasps the fundamentals of magic in a single hour! The next Archmage is all but guaranteed! We begin at one hundred thousand gold!
— A hundred thousand!
— A hundred and fifty thousand!
Hundreds of powerful figures assembled. Standing on the platform with her hands bound, Melina realized once again that she had been right.
'Mom and Dad are stupid.'
The seven-silver girl was sold for seven million gold.
The buyer was the Emperor of the Empire.
In exchange for feeding her, sheltering her, and teaching her magic, the Empire demanded that she become an Archmage within twenty years.
A truly rational demand.
— Fire magic burns mana and thereby...
But nothing was as rational as magic itself.
Equivalence.
You receive only as much as you give.
A simple and supremely rational principle of the world.
There were only two stupid idiots in the world who did not understand this simple principle.
Every night before sleep, Melina thought, and thought again. Why her father had sold her off so cheaply.
— This child?
— ...Yes.
— Tch. Normally four silvers, but the eyes have intelligence. I'll add three more. What do you say?
— Is it true that if she's sold to a noble house, she won't starve?
He probably thought he was showing concern. She thought he was putting on airs, pretending to worry after having already sold her.
— Don't worry about that. She won't go hungry, at least.
— ...Then I'll sell her.
Only after asking the merchant again and again did her father finally look relieved.
Melina did not know why her father wore that expression. No—she did not want to know.
He should have just taken the money and been glad.
— ...
No.
She had known, really.
Melina had four younger siblings. The second froze to death. The third fell ill eating dirt and died. The fourth starved to death.
Each time, her father wept bitterly. Her mother clutched the cold, still bodies of their little ones and shed tears of blood.
The mouths to feed were halved, but the situation did not improve even slightly.
The youngest, still at an age to suckle, was nothing but skin and bones. It was clear the child would not last another week.
The trees in the forest were stripped bare and white. Instead of grass, all that could be seen was rotted, crumbling dead leaves.
Spring—no. Winter still had a month left before it ended.
In the end, Melina's parents had no choice but to make a decision.
To save even one.
Only then did Melina understand.
Why her father and mother had sold her.
Seven silvers?
The price was not what mattered.
What mattered was that their daughter survived.
In exchange for carving into his heart the revulsion of selling his daughter, the guilt, the grief, and a pain that would never fade—
Her father had saved Melina.
Truly a damnable equivalence.
—...
Plip.
Rain fell beneath the blanket.
One drop, two drops.
The rain did not stop until it had soaked through Melina's sleeve.
*****
Melina's eyes shone with golden light.
Olivia knew very well what that meant.
The magic Melina wielded was time.
She was pouring her full concentration into reading Olivia's time right now.
'...She won't be able to read it yet.'
At Melina's level, interfering with another's time was the limit. Slowing movements, slowing perception.
Therefore, no matter how wide she opened her eyes, all she could see was the scene of the present Olivia and the Genocide Run Olivia switching places.
Nothing beyond that was permitted.
[Remaining Time: 13:21]
To go beyond that, she had to advance one step further than that.
'I know because I've done it.'
Reading another's time was not that simple. To do so, one had to reach at least the level of interfering with the world's time.
Which meant reaching the Truth.
Of course, if she could do that, she could not only stop time but also read hidden pasts never told to anyone—and the futures yet to unfold...
But the Melina of now could never do that.
"Master."
Olivia gently took Melina's hand. And then, very slowly, she shook her head.
"You can't."
"...What."
Melina's lips parted.
"What can I not do?"
"..."
"I am the Lord of the Gold Magic Tower and simultaneously the continent's mightiest Archmage. No one on this continent surpasses me in the mastery of magic."
Strength entered Melina's hand.
"Others may not, but I can do it."
"..."
Olivia closed her mouth instead of answering. Sometimes silence carries more meaning than words.
"My disciple. I..."
Melina stopped speaking.
"..."
Why was it?
The more she listed her achievements, the more she insisted she could do it, the more nakedly her own wretchedness was exposed.
Melina bit her lip.
She knew.
That this was an amateur posturing before a master.
Just as she had treated the Red Tower Lord and the mages of other towers as insects, her own achievements were no more than a handful of dust to Olivia.
Olivia smiled.
It was a smile Melina had faced countless times, but today there was something different about it.
Her heart sank.
She did not know.
Melina simply could not control this emotion. Having lost touch with emotions for so long, she had forgotten what to call this feeling.
But she understood one thing.
Her disciple was a fool who did not even understand equivalence.
A distant past now difficult to recall.
— Daughter, your father is sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry...
Melina did not want to repeat that pain ever again.
The pain of receiving without reservation and being unable to give anything back—she never wanted to feel that a second time.
"My disciple."
"Yes, Master."
"...Could you make me just one promise?"
"..."
No answer came this time. But Melina paid it no mind and spoke without taking her eyes off Olivia.
"Later, when the time comes. Could you tell me your secret then?"
Olivia thought for a moment, then answered.
"...Yes."
Melina's face grew somewhat serious.
"If it is a lie, then please do not promise at all."
"It's not."
Olivia shook her head.
"When the time comes, I'll tell you."
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
Melina felt relieved. To the relieved Melina, Olivia handed over a sheet of paper, as she always did.
"Please take it."
"..."
For the first time, Melina hesitated.
"If you don't take it, I won't keep my promise either."
Only then did Melina accept the paper.
"...Thank you."
"It's nothing."
Watching Melina's back as she disappeared through the door, Olivia thought.
She had told one lie, actually.
Olivia had no intention of telling her the secret.
No, more precisely.
Before that, Melina herself would come to know it.