Chapter 152
Chapter 152
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Different Dreams in the Same Bed
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"Hmm~ Should I call this as expected, or beyond expectations~?"
This was Pamon's impression after watching Rishir's full-blown rebellion play out.
-What exactly did you expect to say that?
"You know~ when the head of the Bendel Family told Rishir to go all out against him."
-...Honestly, I still can't tell if this is a dream or reality.
"It's a dream, it's reality, it's an illusion too, but definitely not the real world~?"
-That's not what I meant. Pamon, you're not surprised at all?
Idor Bendel.
He had urged Rishir to unleash his full power. All to teach the indolent bastard to know his place.
And the full power Rishir unleashed in response was—
"A scene straight out of hell~"
Idor, not to mention Duran, still hadn't recovered from that unimaginable 'single strike.'
Pamon was the only one maintaining her composure, at least on the surface.
-Is that all you have to say?
"Duran just said it, didn't he? That he can't tell if it's a dream or reality. Truth is, I'm the same~?"
-Ah. Because it's a virtual world created by the Memory Stone... something like that, right?
"Kinda iffy~ I believe there's nothing impossible for my disciple..."
-This goes beyond that.
Pamon and Duran judged that 'single strike'—unrealistic even in this unreal world—as utterly beyond bounds.
This illusory world crafted by the Memory Stone.
The goodwill Pamon had embedded in it for Rishir—what power had it granted him to make this possible?
Finally, the sandstorm and ashen flames began to die down.
Rishir's delightful rebellion had reached its curtain call.
And the results were astonishing.
Casualties: None.
Destruction: None.
All Rishir had done was subdue Idor.
And even that was executed with a clean, superfluous-free strike.
Overwhelming power. A position of clear superiority.
One might expect some venting of past grudges or anger, but the conclusion was remarkably subdued.
"My disciple~"
"Ah, Master."
"Just wondering, does this gift not sit well with you?"
"Pardon? No, I'm enjoying it immensely right now."
-If that's true, you sure seem awfully calm. Watching you, it's like I can hear 'Well, it's all just an illusion anyway.'
Rishir glanced at the unconscious Idor upon hearing Duran.
Soon, he spoke with a smile that looked genuinely pleased.
"For a moment there, yeah, I did think that. About stealing a glimpse of the Bendel sword—the one I once yearned for so desperately back then."
"Yeah, yeah. And?"
"But surprisingly, I wasn't all that interested~?"
"Why?"
"Who knows. Maybe I've seen too much?"
Rishir recalled Idor in his stance, then promptly forgot it.
"Turns out, it's not as amazing as my old self imagined. Sorry to the other Bendel knights, but yeah."
-Well, yeah. Compared to the swordplay you just showed off.
"So you gained nothing in the end?"
"Not at all."
Rishir sheathed his spotless blade and said,
"No thirst for revenge. Not even a speck of admiration. That's it. I've confirmed that this man truly means nothing to me anymore. A valuable experience, I'd say. Oh! And separately, it was quite fun."
Remembering Idor's flustered look amid his leisure, Rishir flashed a mischievous grin, as if cracking a prankish joke.
"Giving him that one shot—it's something I'd gladly do again in reality if the chance arises. In that sense, yes. Valuable and fun. Thanks for the gift, Master."
Rishir spoke with a bright, sincere smile devoid of any pretense.
"Eep!"
That smile was buried straight into Pamon's embrace, as if kidnapped.
"How is my disciple like this~? How can someone grow up so perfectly~? What's the secret~? Let me try it on my kids too~"
"Your kids?"
"Yeah~ my plants~"
"If they're the ones you raise, Master, they'll grow beautifully without any secrets, right?"
"True~ so true~ I just want them to grow as pretty as Rishir~ so I can keep them by my side forever~ Is that too greedy~? Or should I just plant Rishir straight in my garden~?"
"Master? That's a new idea, isn't it?"
-Just subjugate this crazy dark elf while you're at it, Rishir.
It took quite a while before Rishir was freed from Pamon's hold.
-So, Rishir. Is this really it?
Duran asked Rishir.
The place they now stood was a perfectly recreated past.
A canvas where one could pour out the vast paints of human desire freely—yet all Rishir had done was place a single dot upon it.
-If you're holding back because of us, we can step away.
"No, it's fine."
They had already exited the mansion.
Rishir looked up at the Bendel estate and said,
"No lingering attachments here anymore. Roera's not here either."
-Your sister, huh. So you only acknowledge that girl as family?
"Haha. Family isn't something you swap out like parts, is it? She's just especially dear among them."
-Good lord. Listen to this kid. Teaching me lessons now.
"Sorry, whatever it was."
-No need to apologize. Just surprised by how you think.
Well.
Duran shifted topics in a changed tone.
-Then, as you say, nothing left for us here.
"My disciple. Ready to go?"
Rishir gazed at them for a moment before speaking.
"Come to think of it. What happens to this world when I leave?"
"It'll vanish?"
"And... you two?"
"Us? Ah, you mean these avatars detached from our main bodies? We'll probably return to our originals."
"Ah. Is that so?"
Rishir's serious expression eased into relief.
"Yeah. We're guides left in this world—our avatars. When the magic collapses, we'll go back to our true forms. Memories might not stick, but the emotions should faintly carry over."
"Phew... That's a relief. Really. I was worried you'd vanish for good."
-Worrying over mere avatars. Such a sentimental guy.
Good.
Rishir nodded as if resolved.
"Before we leave, one last request?"
"Sure~ Not just one, you could ask a hundred~ What is it?"
"Spar with me."
"Oh? Didn't see that coming~?"
-Even here, seeking instruction? Jeez.
"That's part of it—but the real reason's different."
"What, what~? To feel your master's presence till the end~?"
Rishir's face turned solemn.
"Master. I thought about the day you abandoned me."
"Oh dear~?"
-This conversation's taking a bad turn.
As Pamon and Duran tensed,
Rishir's eyes gleamed as he declared,
"I'll make you taste this despair of abandonment for sure."
The disciple faced his master.
"I'll win against you here in a spar, then beat you again when we meet for real. And then—you'll become my disciple. And—"
Heh heh heh.
A wicked grin unlike his usual mild demeanor crossed his face.
"Oh my, so intense."
-Not the time, Pamon. Look at his eyes. He's serious.
"Master. Let's go."
"W-Wait a sec…~"
The scenario Rishir had dreamed of unfolded.
A equal spar between master and disciple began.
■ Rishir
⚡ Level:60
■ Memory's Pamon
⚡ Level:58
A flinch.
The dark elf's body trembled faintly.
Soon, she let out a soft chuckle.
"Really. Can't stop him."
-Pamon. You don't mean what I think you mean, do you?
"Yeah. Seems like it."
A campsite away from the forest path.
No campfire lit, yet a pair of silver eyes gleamed, absorbing the moonlight.
Pamon peered into the dark woods beyond with those silver eyes.
Then, as if pressing something small and precious to her lips, she murmured carefully.
Rishir.
"Looks like my disciple received the gift."
-Good lord. How long has it been? Since we parted from him.
"Not even half a year?"
-...Then, what was his level when we separated?
"You really don't remember?"
-Doubting my memory full throttle.
"..."
Pamon recalled.
Her vibrant smile deepened further.
"Remember? When Rishir, fresh at rank 3, handled materialization and turned everything upside down."
-...Damn. Yeah, that happened. Most memories with that guy are like this. Each one makes me question if my recall's right.
Rank 3.
Duran muttered in dismay.
-So if he really triggered that magic you prepared... he's...
"Yeah. Reached that far from rank 3 in mere months."
-...No words.
"Tell me about it. Knew my disciple was special, but not this special."
-I figured at least 5... no, 3 years.
"3 years?"
-What nonsense. Go say that elsewhere about some other guy. A rank 3 mage just a week into learning magic—
No. Wait.
Duran corrected gravely.
-A mage barely a week into learning magic reaching that realm in 3 years? Anyone saying that gets hailed an instant clown with comedic talent.
Hell, I'd be one too.
"Fair~? If it weren't my disciple, I wouldn't believe it either."
-And yet you're the one saying '3 years?'
"I believed in him, so I thought maybe a year~? No, I hoped. Minimum 1, max 2."
-A guy a week into magic taking min 1 max 2 years? Lord help us, Pamon. You're not right in the head. Love's blinded you proper.
"Yeah, that was me. But surprise—it's the opposite of blinders?"
Pamon pulled something from her pack.
A stone that once shimmered brilliantly, now cracked and dulled—the Memory Stone.
When parting with Rishir,
she had enchanted one of his possessions with the Memory Stone's magic.
To activate naturally upon reaching a specific realm and meeting conditions.
-Come to think, what were the activation conditions? I recall you struggled to pinpoint the exact moment.
"Right. With my disciple involved, variables galore. Remember rank 3? Sudden materialization. So, normally I'd trigger on mana infused with unique properties, but scrapped it. Could jump to rank 4 or 5 handling it unpredictably."
-Materialization was probably unique.
"Maybe, but better safe. So, focused elsewhere."
Mana power.
The word emphasized from Pamon's lips.
"Set it to trigger on unleashing an amount of mana just shy of my then-level, in pure mana form, no spell."
-Unleashing all mana without a spell—common?
"Mages sometimes want to gauge their exact power. Especially after gaining strength."
At least—
Pamon raised mana in her palm and continued.
"Wouldn't that urge hit once during ages stuck at early rank 6?"
Summoning mana just below what Pamon held at late rank 6.
That was the trigger for her prepared magic.
In short,
Pamon had timed it for Rishir hitting rank 6.
-Thrilling on the edge, huh?
Figuring rank 6 Rishir could narrowly beat Bendel's head.
"Rank 6..."
Pamon murmured with a wry smile.
"He's sprouting like crazy, my disciple. What if he catches up to me?"
-Talk sense. You're growing at inhuman speed too. Didn't you smash rank 7 barrier in months and hit late stage? Like master, like disciple. Still baffling. What caused those intermittent mana surges?
"Caught it from my disciple?"
-Ha! Nonsense, yet most plausible. Infuriating.
"How long till he catches me?"
-Possible, but a dull wait. Even you took years from early 6 to 7. Which was already short—normally decades.
"Wanna bet again?"
-I'll say 3 years. Months to rank 6 means plenty for 7.
"Hmm... Then I..."
The dark elf and the talking grimoire.
Beneath moonlight, they bloomed conversation centered on one man.
"We'll meet before he hits rank 7, right?"
The same moment.
Nightfall on the plains, multiple campfires ablaze.
Hero Roera's party and their followers' campsite.
"About a fortnight ahead..."
Hero Roera.
She murmured, staring down the path dawn would reveal.
Her heart already seemed in Bontales beyond.
For days now, Roera had been like this.
Unable to contain excitement for the coming meeting—a sight utterly foreign to those who knew Hero Roera.
Across the fire, a comrade.
Party's astrologer, beastkin girl Hamun, fidgeted slightly.
Party knight Lotna poked her.
"Hamun. Talk to the hero."
"Me?"
Hamun's perked ears twitched.
"You're the one who can chat casually with her!"
Others nodded vigorously in agreement.
"Eek..."
The beastkin girl looked troubled but not unwilling.
Chatting with her idol hero was a dream.
Issue was her cynical, distant nature—scary to approach.
"Don't worry. Notice? Hero's mood's good lately. She might respond now."
"R-Really...!?"
The girl clasped hands, nodding eagerly, eyes sparkling.
"What should I say!?"
"Obvious. 'That person.'"
"That person?"
"The one she's looking forward to meeting in Bontales."
"Ah."
Hamun nodded in understanding.
That day.
Roera's fireside mention of 'that person in Bontales' became their hottest topic.
"Ask what he's like, get intel. That's your mission, Hamun. Can do?"
More solemn than monster hunts.
"I'll try!"
The beastkin girl nodded energetically.
Whispered strategy set, she addressed the hero across the fire.
"Lady Roera! Comrades are curious about your 'that lord'!"
Oh no.
Her oblivious cheer drew groans.
"?"
Hero's wandering mind turned to them.
All but the beastkin swiftly averted gazes.
"That lord?"
"The one you're eagerly awaiting in Bontales!"
"Ah."
Good lord.
Someone sidelong-glanced and muttered.
Hero.
You can make that face too?
A delighted smile evoking such lit Roera's features.
"What're you curious about?"
"Is he your—...!"
lover?
Such blunt query stifled by comrades.
Hero in rare good mood would react hilariously to crude probes.
Burning curiosity aside, all deferred to mission lead Hamun.
"Uh, um... Ah!"
After brief thought, beastkin girl's question.
"Is he as amazing as you, Lady Hero?"
Hero Roera.
Already legendary in rumors.
Holy sword aid or not, her youth and skill shone—even among chosen heroes.
Who could such a hero fancy?
How amazing must he be?
Solid question.
Comrades inwardly praised Hamun.
"As amazing as me?"
Her cynical face briefly pondered.
Pfft.
One corner of her mouth lifted.
"Who knows."
"Eh? You don't know him well?"
"Hard to gauge, maybe. Last met months ago—he'd just entered early rank 3. Barely toddling in magic."
"Ooh."
Innocent beastkin listened rapt since hero's tale, but comrades' reactions differed sharply.
Hero's acquaintance—likely peer age.
Early rank 3 at that age?
Utterly average talent.
'But early rank 3 as "just toddling in magic"? After over a decade studying?'
Slightly odd, but brushed off.
Hero's worldview differs.
"I wonder sometimes where he'll be when we meet again."
"Months since last, so probably late rank 3 now?"
Lotna interjected observantly.
Months from early to late rank 3?
Impossible for normal talent.
Her words: polite exaggeration for hero's friend.
"Late rank 3?"
Roera echoed.
"...Pfft."
Laughter burst.
Brightest they'd seen.
For cynical hero, near guffaw.
"Lady Hero...?"
They couldn't grasp why.
"Late rank 3? Nah, probably rank 5 by now."
"...Pardon?"
"Even that's lowball. Maybe hit rank 6 with some fortune."
"..."
'That person' query was spot-on.
Hero Roera blossomed tales of him, looking happier than ever.
Separately, they couldn't follow.
'Months... not years?'
Too fantastical.
Per her, hero's 'lord' was monstrous talent rivaling hers.
Such genius common?
No.
Continent-spanning, past-future rarity.
They thought,
Alas.
Hero's reality sense seems thoroughly warped.
Common affliction.
Chosen heroes returning home, senses twisted, botching relations—
'Hope she doesn't get disappointed meeting him.'
Comrades grew worried for her.
"Huh."
-Rishir!
-You with us?
Rishir.
Regaining senses, he craned neck skyward with all might.
From battle with the massive beast he'd just faced.
Illusion though it was, not illusion.
A duel possible only in such space.
An achievement enabled thereby.
Newly attained rank 7 realm.
With master's aid, he'd unleashed that unfamiliar power unrestrained.
Recalling the fierce memory-battle, he muttered,
"What, again?"
-?
-?
■ Rishir
⚡ Level:61
■ Pamon
⚡ Level:67