Chapter 137
Chapter 137
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Black Magic(?)
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"A comrade... what?"
The heroes and their companions had sought a way to fool the Asking Left Hand.
Yet what returned was a method to fulfill the Asking Left Hand's own demand.
Even in the face of that absurd response, their thoughts froze like stone.
"...Right."
But they were heroes and their companions, after all.
Their quick thinking, honed through countless adversities, truly shone in unexpected crises.
Ambushes. Traps. Betrayals.
All were mere moments of bewilderment.
They were always prepared to maintain composure and respond, no matter the situation.
That was why they could inherit the mantle of the great hero.
With their minds steeled, they recomposed themselves and asked Rishir once more.
"...A comrade what?"
Unfortunately, nothing had changed.
And it couldn't have—preparing their minds wasn't the issue to begin with.
Shifting perspectives wouldn't suddenly make a rock look like food.
Their very thought processes were rejecting it.
Rishir's words and the reality they implied.
It was only natural.
-The master of the holy sword is comrades with a demon...?
Who in the world could accept such an absurd tale?
It went without saying—no one but a madman would.
"Ah~ so that's how it was."
"Now it makes sense."
"?"
Yet suddenly, the grand noble and grand mage accepted it.
The others were dumbfounded.
'What makes sense?'
-Thanks to a demon among my comrades, I was able to learn black magic.
That was Rishir's previous response.
A sentence that offered no understanding, only a flood of questions.
They were certain it was more cryptic than the metaphorical demand the Asking Left Hand had posed.
What kind of thought structure allowed one to comprehend anything from that?
"Haa..."
At that moment.
Bellota, the scholar of Jane's party, let out a weary sigh and sank into contemplation.
Deep down, they understood her reaction.
Bellota's scholarly knowledge and erudition were vast indeed.
At times, even surpassing the Sword of Knowledge, Pozena.
Just consider how all the scholars Dray and Palrag had consulted to identify the fluid's nature combined still fell short of her alone.
Bellota was the epitome of firm reason and intellect.
How utterly ridiculous must Rishir's statement and the two men's acceptance of it have seemed to her?
It wouldn't be surprising if she felt a headache beyond mere confusion.
She's reliable!
That was the sudden impression from both hero parties.
Surely, that rational Bellota can straighten out this messed-up situation!
They looked to her with eyes full of expectation.
Finally emerging from her thoughts, Bellota addressed Rishir.
"Let's say one of your comrades is a demon. Fine."
Yes, yes.
As Bellota said, they could accept that one of Rishir's comrades was a demon—
"Huh? Wait, Bellota."
Felix raised a finger, sensing something off, and cut her off.
-Why accept that?
Pozena, the Sword of Knowledge, voiced the doubt.
-He's the master of the holy sword, isn't he? How can we just accept that he's comrades with a demon? No, how did he even—
Pozena trailed off midway.
Raising questions one by one in their ignorance would lead nowhere.
In that way, Bellota's reaction greatly exceeded their expectations.
"Why? Because—"
Bellota, in turn, looked as if she couldn't comprehend their lack of understanding.
-Why make a fuss over nothing?
Her expression seemed to say.
"Huh?"
Then.
Bellota's face shifted as if she'd realized something.
"...Ah."
She removed her glasses and rubbed her dry face with both hands.
My head must be messed up.
Her deep self-loathing was plain to see.
"Bellota? You okay...?"
Jane cautiously asked after her fellow scholar's condition.
Bellota had savored her self-doubt sufficiently and now conveyed through her demeanor.
This is driving me crazy.
How do I explain this again?
Ah, whatever.
She spat it out.
"Rishir has spirits. Ones that were originally demons."
"Demons that were originally... what?"
Their expectations were thoroughly betrayed.
Bellota, whom they'd thought would dispel this thick fog of doubt on their behalf, had instead summoned yet another question.
"A spirit's a spirit, a demon's a demon. What does that even mean?"
Tila, the mage from Felix's party, said cautiously.
Her expression showed concern for Bellota's state.
"Heh heh heh."
Bellota laughed hollowly.
As if she'd expected such a reaction.
She raised both hands and said,
"Who knows~ Guess it happens sometimes."
Shrugging it off irresponsibly.
The rational, intellectual scholar they knew was nowhere to be seen.
They looked at Bellota with pity.
"Bellota's... broken...!?"
What on earth had the investigation team gone through to reduce that rational scholar to this?
"Now, now, friends. Everyone, calm down."
Amid it all, Dray spoke with his usual affable smile.
"I can explain everything."
"Ah, then could Sir Dray explain in her place?"
"No reason not to. Perfect timing, actually. I can even explain things Bellota doesn't know yet."
"Things I don't know? Wow, I'm dying to hear."
Bellota expressed curiosity and joy with her whole body.
With a soulless expression.
Is it safe to stay in this place any longer?
The hero parties felt an indescribable dread.
"-So, it's entirely possible for Rishir to receive help from demons."
And!
Dray, for some reason brimming with excitement, emphasized the point.
"Not strange at all. Don't go suspecting Rishir over this for no reason. That's advice from a senior—burn it into your minds. Right, Duke Palrag? Hahaha!"
"Heh heh heh, even thinking back now, it was foolish. To be toyed with by that ancient emperor and doubt Rishir."
It was disrespectful to Bellota, but Pozena even wondered if she'd fallen victim to some mental corruption(?).
So, to prevent his own comrades from ending up like Bellota, he'd bestowed blessings upon them—
It was in vain.
"Heh heh."
After hearing Rishir's story from Dray, they ended up in the same state as Bellota.
"That pseudo sword aura force... created in just a few days...?"
"Sword aura...? At that age...?"
"Overload..."
Dray smiled at the hero party, still unable to collect themselves.
As if gazing at beloved juniors.
"Well, natural reaction. I get it. But don't worry too much. Open your minds and accept it, and you'll get used to it like me in no time."
Pat pat.
Pat pat.
Dray patted their shoulders encouragingly.
Then, he asked Rishir,
"By the way, Rishir. You learned black magic?"
"That's how it turned out."
"You're just unbelievable. Even with a demon at your side, mastering black magic in that short time? What on earth did you do?"
With ample(?) experience accumulated, Dray asked naturally.
In the posture of someone ready to respond with 'Aha!' to any answer.
Palrag listened intently from the side with a similar expression.
"I didn't expect it to be this straightforward either, but Dangleon said I had talent. Knowing Daronan seems to have helped a lot."
Daronan.
The language underpinning all magic systems, especially specialized for black magic.
To think he casually knew that ancient, lost knowledge, attainable only through deep immersion in black magic.
Yet Palrag and Dray, as veterans(?), showed mature composure.
They nodded in understanding.
"You know Daronan? Impressive. Must not be superficial knowledge if a demon praises it. Tell us, Rishir. Where did you learn Daronan? Even this old man has never encountered it in his lifetime."
"There was a book on Daronan in the library I used to visit."
"A book on Daronan... Such a rare tome kept in a mere library? Must be some library."
"Ah, it was an ordinary one. An annex for books deemed too low-grade for the main collection."
"Heh. And such a rare book was stored there? It's a miracle you read it before it was stolen."
"I think so too."
"By the way, curious. Do you remember the book's title?"
"Yes. Probably [Succession Tome: Daronan]."
"?"
This time, even Dray and Palrag doubted their ears.
-Succession Tome...? Surely not one of Yel Kanuer's seven tomes of succession...?
The holy sword Elysia spoke in a trembling voice.
The seven wanted tomes created by the ancient mage 'Yel Kanuer' had the property of overlaying themselves onto the reader.
Thus, no one could read a Succession Tome.
The moment it was opened, one became the tome itself.
"Yes. I got lucky."
He read a Succession Tome.
How nice.
Through that succinct brain-melting sentence, the hero parties finally felt they fully understood the person named Rishir.
They looked at Palrag and Dray.
Palrag and Dray looked back at them.
Nod.
A bond formed.
Meanwhile, Rishir continued to wrap up his explanation.
"At first, I didn't understand Dangleon's power. Then it suggested using Daronan. So I did—and the spells forming the basis of Dangleon's power, which had been hard to grasp, translated in my mind into a language I knew? After that—yes, as you all know. Thanks to that, I mastered black magic quickly."
That was when Rishir's explanation ended.
"You mean..."
Tila, the mage from Felix's party, asked in a trembling voice.
"Right now, in your head, the spells underpinning the demon's power are stored in a language we can understand...?"
The two heroes and their companions.
Even Dray and Palrag.
All of them gazed at Rishir with shining eyes.
Strong, unconcealed curiosity gleamed within.
"Rishir. If it's okay, could you show us that black magic... to us too!?"
Bellota asked, unable to contain her scholarly fervor.
"No reason not to."
Rishir raised his palm.
A grayish-white flame bloomed above it.
[Grayish-White Flame]
[Mysterious, pure demonic power]
"This is... the demon's power...?"
The grayish-white flame flickered in their eyes.
Was it right to call that the demon's power?
Was it right to call that black magic?
The energy within was far too pure to be black magic.
And utterly alien at the same time.
It was black magic, yet not.
Like that flame, neither black nor white.
A mysterious, intense quality unlike anything they'd encountered.
In an instant, it captivated everyone present.
Captivated by black magic.
Something that should never happen—
Yet in their hearts, that grayish-white flame was already something other than black magic.
Rishir's state was proof.
Not eroded by malevolent energy, not dominated by any demon.
He was free from all black magic's side effects.
That power was.
Something else, born by stripping away every impure aspect of black magic.
[How ecstatic...! Master! It's truly a beautiful flame even on second sight!]
[I humbly suggest naming this power 'Rishir's Holy Flame'! And each time you use it, shout 'Receive the purifying holy flame of Rishir, who cleanses all!' This Dangleon trembles just imagining your majestic form!!!]
"I'm feeling chills too, in a different sense. Goosebumps."
Just like that spirit(?).
-Not like some human filter...
Jallak muttered in disgust, having witnessed the whole process up close.
The next day.
After sufficient rest, they gathered at the site once more.
"After all that hardship, we need proper compensation."
Felix muttered with resolve.
They had fulfilled every demand of the Asking Left Hand.
Now it was time to make their own demands of the Asking Left Hand.
"Tila?"
Tila nodded and approached the Asking Left Hand.
The ritual to awaken it began anew.
Crack.
Crack.
The Asking Left Hand writhed, joints snapping.
Moments later.
The movement stopped.
"...?"
Felix sensed something amiss.
Unlike before, when it immediately stated its business, it was silent.
In the end, Felix spoke first.
"We've fulfilled every demand you made. Now it's time for you to fulfill ours."
"What?"
"What kind of nonsense is this!?"
Camilla, the elf listening nearby, voiced everyone's frustration in her characteristic sharp tone.
Pozena followed with a meaningful remark.
"Pozena?"
Felix looked down at his sword in confusion.
"What does that mean?"
"Wait. So right now, it doesn't have the power left to grant the next demand?"
A situation like raiding a dungeon at the risk of life only to find the warehouse empty.
Felix cried out in shock.
"No."
Tila shook her head.
"As Pozena said, it hasn't received compensation, so its power is greatly diminished. But it still holds vast power. I felt it during the ritual. Definitely."
"Then why!?"
"Simple. It's expressing dissatisfaction. Since it didn't get compensation for the city it destroyed, it won't give anything until it does."
"What kind of—!"
Shing.
Jane pointed the holy sword Elysia at the Asking Left Hand.
"Shall we soothe its discontent a bit?"
The holy sword emitted a soft glow.
Its immense power was more than enough to destroy an ancient relic harboring mysterious energies.
"It won't work."
Palrag, who had been observing (spectating) the situation as a third party, spoke up at Jane's action.
"It's not some ego-possessing spirit. It's a device faithfully executing its role. Closer to a golem. Even if destroyed, it won't deviate from its rules."
As Palrag said, the Asking Left Hand didn't twitch even with the holy sword aimed right at it.
"Argh, this is maddening!"
A situation like staking your life on a dungeon raid and gaining nothing.
Felix shouted in frustration.
At that instant.
Whoosh.
Rishir ignited grayish-white flames and said,
"Then, shall we destroy it before it tries any more tricks?"
The Asking Left Hand responded immediately.
"No?"
"Oh."
They looked at Palrag.
Like a golem, huh.
Palrag felt wronged.
It seems right, though.