Be Careful with Contracts

Flames surged up from Redberry's body.

A mana unlike anything she normally used roiled within her, and her hair flushed an even deeper red. I did my best to tune her mana flow, lending what support I could with my own.

Not all mana can simply be absorbed wholesale. It has to mesh, at least to some degree, with the natural constitution of the person taking it in — and even two flames of the same type are, in the end, woven from different threads. Redberry's mana, after all, was fairly opposed to the mana the Rutilus carried.

It was dangerous work that no ordinary mage would ever dare attempt.

“Hoooh…”

“Move it along little by little. Very, very slowly.”

But Redberry is a user.

An immortal protected by the System. Her soul is guarded almost perfectly, so even a considerable strain should be something she can endure. The System stabilization patch has gone through, too, so there shouldn't be any trouble. And the Rutilus, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠strong as they are, aren't on the level of ancient monsters like Pharaoh or the Kraken anyway.

“Like I said, it's circulation. Draw a circle and let the mana spin — but only ever within your own body.”

Push this technique further and it becomes what people commonly call a Circle. Honestly speaking, though, it's an outdated method, and I wouldn't really recommend it. It's a device for storing and managing mana efficiently, but users already possess something far more stable and far easier to use. The System — a wonderfully convenient device, all told. Limited as it may be, no one switches from a comfortable hydroelectric plant back to a rickety waterwheel.

This circulation structure only needed to be enough to hold the mana in place.

“Haaah…”

“That's about right. Nicely done.”

After wrestling with her mana for a long while, Redberry finally lost her posture and crumpled to the floor. A red ring spun inside her — mana infused with the Rutilus's heat, staying within her body without leaking out.

“At this rate your numbers should have climbed quite a bit. How much did you gain?”

“Ugh… uh… one second…”

Redberry groaned and pulled up her status window, then forced the words out with great effort.

“Mana… went up by 15…”

“Fifteen.”

Fifteen, of all things. Considering it was permanent rather than temporary, that was a far more meaningful result than I'd expected. Me, I don't bother with stats at all since I rely on divinity. But for the notoriously hard-to-raise stat that is mana, 15 is an enormous figure. In the old days, it would feel like jumping from a 5th Circle straight ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to a 7th. Back then the overall standard was so low that even a 7th Circle was enough to make your name known across the land — though with the world so crowded with monsters, that light never quite shone as brightly as it might have.

Using my divinity, I healed Redberry completely, then told her to rest a while. The treatment was done, but acclimating the mana now lodged in her body was her own task. That part I couldn't do for her — and even if I recovered the power of my past, I shouldn't. This kind of thing only leads to growth when you realize it yourself.

“Let's try opening the door now.”

I laid a hand on the gate of massive stone. The moment my palm touched it, a fierce heat pressed through my skin — a sign that Redberry had truly absorbed only the tiniest sliver of the mana here.

Fwaaaah…

As brilliant white divinity pressed forward, the heat flinched and recoiled backward. I fed divinity into the gap of the door and twisted it open, carving out just enough space for two people to pass.

Through the gap, a red-haired man came into view.

A man bound head to toe in blue iron chains, everywhere but his hair and the region of his heart. More than a thousand years had passed, yet his long hair was as neatly kept as if it were groomed every day.

Most striking of all was his heart. The heart visible beneath his flesh was still beating — and a blue flame sigil etched into his chest was what kept it suppressed.

“That must be Akron.”

Leaving my odd assortment of viewers behind, I surveyed the chamber where Akron slept. It wasn't very large — clearly built solely for the purpose of sealing him away, so cramped that a few steps in any direction brought ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you to the opposite wall.

The walls bore murals depicting the histories of the two races — the blues and the reds, and the war between them. The murals ran uninterrupted across all four walls and ended with the Rutilus triumphant. A version of events that differed from reality. Even this, it seemed, was part of the seal.

Next, I looked at the floor. The entire floor was Blue-Red Stone.

“It's all Blue-Red Stone. The whole floor.”

Even the ceiling was Blue-Red Stone.

Within the Blue-Red Stone was engraved the image of red water — a sigil unique to the Rutilus, just as the Wenetus had their own. It was partly hidden by the chains, but even now Akron's shoulders bore the mark of the red water.

“Wow… this place is incredible. A whole room made of mana stone.”

“Feeling a bit better now?”

“Ah, yes. More or less.”

Recovered, Redberry looked around curiously. Perhaps because we now carried the same mana, she seemed to be adapting far better than before. Well, we'd confirmed what we came to see — time to head back.

That was when it happened.

Ding!

“…What?”

A message window had appeared in front of me, blocking my path. I turned back around.

Akron, still motionless, still deep in sleep.

Thump. Thump.

And yet, independent of him, that red heart was beating far faster than before.

“A proposal to release you is a bit of a problem, I'm afraid.”

I understood the persecution the Rutilus had suffered, but it was plain as fire that unseating this debt of blood would turn this place into hell. The two races would simply fall into another war of mutual slaughter.

It's not that I don't understand vengeance. If anything, I understand it better than most — there was a time I lived mad with it. But.

“Everyone you remember has already returned to the dust. The only one left is Wenetus, who was a mere child back then. I doubt that would settle your grudge.”

“How am I supposed to believe that?”

Vengeance is never something you can simply wave away. Considering that his kin were exterminated and he himself was imprisoned for over a thousand years…

There's no way he'd let it go.

In the past, I might have tossed him into the Void Space like the other monsters — but that's not an option now. Unless I wanted to use a coffin, there was nowhere I could put Akron.

Fwoosh!

The message window cleared, and before me materialized a sheet of magical paper wrought from flame — a token of covenant, etched with its own rules and restrictions. Within the fire-written page glowed the words: So long as no one attacks me first, I shall kill no one. And beneath it: should he break his word, the flame of the oath would burn out Akron's heart on the spot.

“Hmm…”

“What do I gain from this?”

Any request at all?

“You're really sure about that?”

Because I really will ask for anything.

'Anything whatsoever' isn't a phrase you throw around lightly. Contracts, by their ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠very nature, demand caution.

I pondered for a moment, then moved the red mana and amended the oath.

“'So long as no one attacks me first' bothers me. You could always manufacture some pretext and attack anyway…”

I changed it to: So long as my life is not gravely threatened.

“And I'll have two requests. No — three. That's fair, right?”

“I do.”

Where in the world would you find anyone with more conscience than me?

“If you refuse, I'll simply leave you here — and reinforce the seal, just in case…”

I began to channel my divinity.

A brilliant white magic circle etched itself around Akron's heart. Having once held dozens of monsters within my own soul, I could confidently say my knowledge of sealing arts surpassed that of the higher-ranked angels. Reinforcing a seal that already existed? Trivial.

“Halt?”

That's more like it.

I nodded and held the revised covenant before him.

Fwoosh!

The contract was sealed.