The Warden's Oath

The setting sun dyed the sky crimson. It looked as though the heavens were engulfed in flames, blazing with a brilliance more vivid than ever, as if facing an eternal end.

“A sunrise would have suited this scene better,” Anak remarked with a cynical edge. With this, his work here ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was finally drawing to a close. The time to receive his rightful reward was drawing near as well.

Delaying time was not my intention.

Granbipra’s egg emitted a faint glow. Its hatching was finally near.

“Well, it still has its own atmosphere.”

After Duru Satal had been trapped inside Kadolukude’s space, all resistance ceased. Just in case, Anak had Erill and the wolves patrol the surroundings once every hour, but they encountered only wild monsters. Nothing suggested anyone was receiving orders or being controlled.

The light flowing from the egg grew steadily stronger. While the sky still burned red, the eggshell began to melt away like ice before a flame.

As the shell vanished and sacred energies spread across the surroundings, Anak felt as though he could barely breathe. Though faint, the divine power he had sensed from Morotai—one of the so-called soldiers of the gods—was nothing compared to this. It was the same feeling he had experienced when Lauti cast holy magic inside the withered tree fortress.

Anak saw Granbipra’s soul. Not with his physical eyes, but with every sense a summoner possessed. The ancient soul he had only vaguely perceived through their previous conversations now stood before him.

He saw Granbipra’s body pulsing with the heartbeat of life within the warm light. He witnessed the moment body and soul became one. From that sight, Anak understood that Rofena’s words were closer to the truth than Granbipra’s claim of having been ordered by the gods to protect the forest. He saw the divine light belonging to the heavens being sealed inside an imperfect body.

It was an exile and a binding sentenced by the gods. The moment the sentence ended, the sacred power that had filled the surroundings dropped to less than ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠half its previous strength.

Body and soul had fully merged. Before Anak now stood a serpent large enough to easily swallow a child, its head raised. Its scales shifted color depending on the angle of view, as though they were made of glittering jewels.

What truly captured Anak’s gaze, however, were the creature’s eyes. As the true ruler of the forest, they held resolve and nobility, wisdom and prudence. Yet at the same time they carried the deep resignation and old regrets of an aged elder, along with a blind conviction desperately clung to in order to hide those feelings.

Great Ally Anak. I thank you for your protection. And Erill, Lord of the Loxian Mountains—I offer my sincere gratitude for shouldering a duty that was never yours.

Erill spread her wings lightly in response, while Anak bowed with proper formality. Any worry that Granbipra might change his mind had vanished completely in the face of the sacred power that had just enveloped them.

“I am glad to have been of help.”

The promise I made to you will soon be fulfilled. Not only Duru Satal, but also Hyrde and Toguath will serve you until the moment you return to the cycle.

His voice carried the weight of long-held anger, as though he were ready to drive the administrators away at once.

“I believe they will, but for now I suppose I must be content with one.”

Anak had no intention of launching or joining a pursuit that had no set timeline. Even though unexpected events had caused a slight delay, he still had matters to settle with Bagloros.

“I have things I must do right now.”

He dismissed the Puppet Crows and wolves he had summoned, then climbed onto Erill’s back.

“Do you know the location of Duru Satal’s main body?”

Of course.

Granbipra gave Erill a signal, then wrapped himself around one of her ankles and climbed up. With a single light beat of her wings, Erill soared into the sky. Aside from the scorched and ashen patches left by the fire, the Ancient Forest at dusk looked the same everywhere.

The ground was cloaked in darkness beneath the dense trees, and even from above, every visible direction belonged to the forest.

That way.

Such distinctions seemed irrelevant to Granbipra. He guided Erill and Anak with precision. Once they drew close enough, Anak could also sense the strengthening presence of Kadolukude and locate Duru Satal’s main body.

Erill descended between the trees. Granbipra slid from her ankle and coldly stared at the surrounding trees and the earth at their center.

When Granbipra’s eyes glowed blue, the soil spread outward on its own, like sand scattered by wind or waves rolling across the sea. Within minutes, Duru Satal’s main body—its “brain” formed of intertwined roots—lay exposed deep beneath the ground.

A faint light pulsed across the surface of the roots that made up the brain. Though weakened from the torment it had suffered inside Kadolukude’s space, Anak still found its unique form and energy intriguing.

“That is no ordinary mana. The trees themselves do not seem particularly special either. Do you know how something like this is possible?”

Trees that moved of their own will were rare but not unheard of. Yet the trees here were ordinary, and it made no sense that their roots alone could grant sentience and such power.

At Anak’s question, Granbipra offered a cryptic smile.

Something is buried beneath this place. It may have been influenced by that.

Anak wanted to ask what it was, but decided against it. He knew that even if questioned, Granbipra would not hide the truth if he wished to share it. There was always a reason for secrecy, and digging deeper would bring no benefit. Anak had long held this belief about himself as well.

At Anak’s call, Kadolukude poked its head out from within Duru Satal’s brain. The sight made even Anak flinch, brief though it was.

Kadolukude looked thoroughly pleased with its rare moment of entertainment. Its eyes gleamed, and its chilling laughter refused to stop.

“…Return.”

Anak cut off the mana supply. Kadolukude’s form blurred and vanished into the air. Once it disappeared, Duru Satal’s faint energy began to recover, little by little.

Yet after enduring continuous torture inside Kadolukude’s space, even Duru Satal could not regain its senses immediately.

Y-you…!

Only after a long while did Duru Satal realize its main body had been exposed before Granbipra and Anak. It reflexively tried to extend its consciousness network, but the intense energy radiating from Granbipra’s body swept over the area and erased the attempt entirely.

Do not try any tricks. Even if I have not yet regained my full form, I have no intention of tolerating your petty games any longer.

At Granbipra’s warning, Duru Satal froze completely. Though it had never forgotten its fear of Granbipra, the sheer force emanating from his body made defiance—or even the thought of it—impossible.

Then let us begin the ritual. Have you prepared everything necessary?

“Please wait a moment.”

At Granbipra’s words, Anak took the crystal from his robe.

* * *

“Did the hatching go well?”

Rofena’s expression did not look particularly different, yet her voice carried a subtle weight. Wondering if it was because he had not visited yesterday, Anak studied her face again, but she only looked puzzled by his gaze and offered no further comment.

“Yes. Now it is time for my reward.”

Something felt off, but he dismissed it as his imagination and stepped inside.

The most crucial elements for establishing a master-servant contract were a notary and a medium to symbolize the contract. Even if the contract succeeded, damage to either party afterward would cause the contract itself to vanish.

With Granbipra serving as notary, there was little to worry about, but the medium was another matter.

The stronger the spell, the greater the burden on its target. A master-servant contract was an extremely powerful spell. A simple scroll or ordinary item would be torn apart instantly under its strain.

Moreover, the one being bound by this contract was one of the three rulers who had divided the Ancient Forest. The intensity would far exceed that of a normal master-servant contract. A special item was required.

Anak headed toward the section of the library where magical items were stored. Though none matched the quality of what he currently wore, each was a named magical artifact. Still, not all could serve as a medium.

Items already containing powerful spells risked great danger if another spell were layered upon them. That was precisely why he could not use the Robe of Dawn or his current equipment as the medium. Failure could not only ruin the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠contract but also destroy the item itself, or produce unforeseen consequences from clashing spells.

“There it is.”

Among the items rested a fist-sized crystal orb carved in the shape of an eye. This was the very reason he had decided to form the master-servant contract in the first place.

Satla’s Eye.

Created by Denatel himself to serve as a medium for master-servant contracts, the orb contained every contract made with the members of the Faceless Memory unit—his personal guard and experimental force.

Of course, after his trusted subordinate who had served as notary fell to Orcan and Bagloros, the contracts became void, forcing Denatel to deal with the Faceless Memory members himself when they turned against him.

“I will be back shortly.”

“……”

He had not expected any particular reply, yet the unfamiliar silence made it difficult to move his feet.

“…Is something troubling you?”

From the day he learned she was imprisoned in this pocket dimension until now, he had always been careful never to ask this question. It was only natural. She was a prisoner here. She had countless reasons for worry, and even if she told him, what could he possibly do to help?

How could he claim that asking such a question—whose only possible answers were refusal and apology—was anything other than empty courtesy for his own peace of mind?

That was why he had tried to avoid this meaningless, foolish question, yet at this moment it was the only thing he could say to her.

“No, I am fine.”

She looked at his face for a moment, then smiled as though nothing were wrong. Of course, he was not naïve or foolish enough to take her words at face value. She knew it too. That was why she remained silent.

“Then I will see you later.”

Still, that did not mean he had the courage to press her further.

“Yes. See you soon.”

Ignoring the sudden regret that seized his ankle, Anak left Denatel’s library.

Is that the medium?

Granbipra examined Satla’s Eye in Anak’s hand. Though he did not seem to know its exact nature, he appeared satisfied that it would suffice as a medium. He turned away and moved to one side. Energy rippled around his body, and soon two enormous serpents—far larger than either Erill or himself—appeared on either side of him.

The fire spirits he had summoned were few, so their full forms could not be seen clearly, yet that only made them more imposing. Their massive bodies flickered in and out of the wavering flames, and their glowing eyes in the shadows gave the unmistakable impression of apex predators.

Though their mana and sacred power were clearly inferior to the main body, they possessed a presence that instinctively inspired fear.

……

Duru Satal’s brain also seemed tense at the appearance of the avatars, its lights flashing rapidly.

Just in case, I will have my avatars guard the surroundings.

Following his command, the avatars vanished into the darkness one by one. Only then did the intensity of the lights from Duru Satal’s brain weaken, as though it had found some measure of calm. Anak asked Erill to guard the area as well, then placed Satla’s Eye in the necessary position.

Then let us begin the contract ritual.

Anak bent down and picked up Satla’s Eye from where he had placed it. With this, the contract ritual was complete.

“This shall serve as the symbol and proof of the contract. To protect it is the duty of the master, and my duty as well.”

As he finished speaking, he felt the entire energy that had filled the surroundings pour into Satla’s Eye. At the same time, he sensed something being engraved deep within his soul. Though this was his first master-servant contract, he knew with certainty that it had succeeded.

…Are you satisfied, Master?

Duru Satal’s displeasure was plain, yet that was all. The contract was already complete, and he had no means of breaking it himself. Bound by the contract, he was not even permitted to take his own life; conversely, if Anak commanded it, he would have to choose death at any moment.

“Well, more or less.”

Strictly speaking, he could not summon the one confined to this place as a summon, but the ability to command a large-scale monster army without any additional contract would surely prove useful someday.

Then tell me. Where are Toguath and Hyrde? Where are the other two?

I do not know.

Granbipra looked toward Anak. As the master of the contract, he wanted him to ask once more.

“Is that true?”

I would like to know their whereabouts more than anyone.

Bound by the contract, he could not lie. Even without the contract, the anger and resentment in his voice made it clear he was telling the truth.

“Then find them. If you discover even the smallest trace, report it to Granbipra.”

…Understood.

Anak took out the crystal once more. He had stayed up all night, summoned both Limbo’s existence and Kadolukude, and performed the contract ritual on top of everything. He was tired, and the woman he had left behind weighed on his mind as well.

“Then I will see you tomorrow morning. I am a little tired.”

Rest well.

“Erill, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠see you tomorrow.”

Though he still had no idea what to say to her.