Chapter 30
Chapter 30
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Bondalles (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
To cut to the chase, it was a failure.
The idea that suddenly came to mind while reproducing the lucky coin and acquiring the Enchant skill.
The plan to mass-produce them and sell for profit was ultimately scrapped.
As my understanding of the act of Enchanting deepened, I realized the true nature of this 'lucky coin.'
A vessel of power shaped like an object.
It wasn't some grand 'holy relic' as they called it.
To use a metaphor, it was like 'heated iron.'
It had temporarily taken on the same properties due to my power's influence, but those properties were extremely unstable.
Without me continuously infusing it with power, it would cool and vanish in real time.
Selling something like this would make me no different from a scamming second-hand dealer saying, "It was fine when I sold it. No refunds."
In the end, I concluded that the lucky coin business was a realistically impossible venture.
'Holy relic my ass—why get my hopes up.'
It stung quite a bit. My dream of copying money had flown away right before my eyes.
The silver lining was that I hadn't come away entirely empty-handed.
I looked at the coin in my hand.
I had ultimately failed to imbue it with the power of purification, but mana was different.
The coin was clearly infused with mana's properties.
I had succeeded in fully making the Enchant technique my own.
Of course, it was barely at the crawling stage—
'But that's something.'
I was satisfied with the mere fact that my magical abilities had expanded.
"You really thought that would work?"
Fienne, who had heard the story secondhand, scolded me in disbelief.
"Dreaming is free, isn't it?"
"Free?"
Fienne was sitting on the bed next to me right now. Wiping the blood from my face with a warm damp cloth.
She shoved the now blood-red cloth in my face.
"Enchanting is the technique of tearing off a part of your own power and bestowing it on an object. It's something that drains your mental strength and stamina like dough being kneaded! How much strain do you think—doing it in such a brute-force way—"
"Still, I controlled it somewhat. If it felt really dangerous, I was going to stop."
"What's 'really dangerous'? Death? Fainting? Exhaustion? Cut the nonsense and just say it. Promise me you won't overdo it next time."
I knew what Fienne wanted to hear.
I'm not an idiot. Magic training is ultimately about preserving your body, so what's the point if it harms your health?
This time was a special case.
I had a conviction that pushing to the end would yield something.
"Don't be like that. Here, a gift for you."
I handed Fienne my monumental first Enchant result.
"Good grief. What am I supposed to do with this? You don't think this qualifies as an artifact, do you? It's just a mana-tainted coin. Perfect for hammering nails without a hammer."
"It's my first Enchant product. If I become a famous Enchant artisan later, won't it fetch a premium?"
"What are you talking about."
Fienne scoffed but pocketed the coin anyway.
A moment later.
"There. Done."
Face cleaning finished, Fienne moved away from me.
"Thanks, Fienne. You're the only one who worries about me."
"What? I've never worried about you."
Hmph. Fienne snorted and got up from the bed.
"So, what now?"
"Huh?"
"You said thanks. So what are you going to do next?"
"...Hug you?"
Thwack. The cloth flew into my face.
Wrong answer, apparently.
"...Had breakfast?"
"You caused this mess at the crack of dawn and have the nerve to ask? No? Of course not. Thanks for asking."
"In that case, may I have the honor of treating Fienne to breakfast?"
"Ugh. What do I do with that mouth of yours."
Fienne said that and left the room.
After telling me to hurry and get ready, that is.
Right answer, then.
I immediately started preparing to leave.
I should have been tired from training all night, but thanks to Fienne's power, I felt refreshed, and checkout didn't take long.
"Got everything?"
Finally, I placed a single coin on the bloodstained blanket and left the room.
At that moment, a woman emerged from the next room at almost the same time.
"..."
"..."
Our eyes met due to the perfect timing.
I found myself staring at the woman's face.
At the face where the left side was grotesquely scarred, as if burned.
...And at the sense of incongruity emanating from her.
A toned, elongated body honed by training, with dark red hair—
And a woman whose impression was dominated by the hideous mark on her face.
Salana.
She didn't like people staring blatantly at her face.
Because of the hideous scar that devoured the entire left side of her face.
It wasn't hard to guess why. Who would enjoy someone gawking at their flaw?
"..."
So Salana was dumbfounded.
The man from the next room, whom she bumped into right as she exited, was staring at her intently.
'What the hell is this punk?'
Normally, Salana would have already shoved past him, dislocating his shoulder.
And much later, the man would realize his shoulder was wrecked.
But Salana held back.
She unconsciously fiddled with her face.
For some reason, her skin condition had improved slightly overnight.
Was all the effort she had put in finally, for the first time, paying off?
How long had it been?
Since this horrific scar hadn't cracked or burst overnight.
Since waking up to a dry pillow instead of one soaked in pus.
Since getting ready in the morning and enjoying looking in the mirror.
She was in a good mood right now.
Enough to overlook that level of rudeness.
"Something on my face?"
Salana said in a cheerful tone.
It was the persona of a senior adventurer she used in public.
"Huh? Oh! S-sorry—I zoned out."
The man snapped to attention and apologized profusely.
Sometimes there were guys who stared openly and showed their contempt.
Those types needed a few fingers broken to react like that—
At least this man didn't seem to require such shock therapy.
"Haha. No worries. As you can see, I'm quite the beauty. Can't blame a guy for staring."
Salana spoke in a more relaxed atmosphere.
"I'm Salana. I do adventurer work. Senior rank."
"Ah! Rishir here. Senior adventurer...? That's impressive—"
As far as Rishir knew, the average level of senior adventurers corresponded to 5th circle.
Salana looked to be in her twenties at first glance—and reaching 5th circle in one's twenties wasn't easy even for nobles with full family backing.
"I agree. Senior adventurer at this age, with this beauty. That's why I'm letting it slide. You zoning out staring at me."
"Ah...! My apologies again."
"Nah. Nothing to apologize for. You just got lost in my looks? Anyway, Rishir. Nice meeting you—let's meet again if fate allows."
Salana turned away from Rishir to leave.
"Ah, wait! Salana!"
"..."
Salana grimaced inwardly.
Damn—
Why is he being so annoying.
Irritating.
She replied with a friendly grin.
"What? Asking me on a date or something?"
"Ah—tempting offer, but—"
Of course, it wasn't a date invitation.
He had prior plans, after all.
Rishir hadn't forgotten Fienne waiting outside the inn.
Still, he stopped Salana because of the incongruity he sensed from her.
It was the same as with Todina.
Rishir sensed the potential for 'purification' in Salana.
He was convinced his power could help her.
With that basis, Rishir thought.
'Senior adventurer, for sure.'
Helping someone of senior adventurer rank and building a good relationship would surely pay off big later.
On top of that—
While refining his power yesterday, Rishir had realized one thing.
That his power had undergone explosive growth.
Actually, 'realized' might not be accurate; 'confirmed' was better.
He had vaguely suspected two instances of growth already.
The exact timing and reasons, too.
The first was right after the Rona incident—
The second right after the Todina incident.
From that, Rishir inferred one fact.
He didn't know the principle, but—
Purification directly led to an increase in magical power.
That was why he grabbed Salana.
Meeting her was an opportunity.
"What? Spit it out."
"..."
Rishir hesitated.
How to bring it up.
He always found these situations awkward.
Sensing someone's problem with a power he didn't fully understand—
And offering help with a power he didn't fully understand.
How to convince the other person of that process.
'Lucky coin—no.'
It was different from Todina's case.
Todina's issue was visible on the surface, and she was desperate for help.
Handing over the lucky coin subtly had worked.
Salana was different.
'I know the facial scar is the issue, but—'
She wasn't showing it outwardly, nor seeking help for it.
Suddenly offering a lucky coin that might help with her facial scar—
What came back might not be thanks, but a duel challenge.
"Haha. What is it? Did I hear wrong? If nothing's up, I'll be going."
Screw it.
Go all in.
"Salana!? P-please don't take this the wrong way, but... do you have any chronic condition?"
"Chronic condition? This?"
Salana rubbed her face.
"If I could help heal that condition—would you believe me?"
"..."
In that instant, Salana's demeanor shifted.
Rishir's hairs stood on end at the subtle change he detected.
It was too sharp for the aura of a senior adventurer—
A 5th circle practitioner.
"What? Speak."
Her face smiled, but inwardly she was serious.
It wasn't just rude looks-ists drawn to her scar.
She had encountered them before.
Those who approached claiming to know how to heal her facial scar.
Without exception, they were quacks or scammers after a senior adventurer's wealth.
They all paid the price.
To the Black Serpent, master of the Black Hand Assassins Guild.
A sinister energy gathered at the fingertips of Salana, who stood with hands behind her back.
Colorless. Odorless. Formless.
No symptoms or signs, only the result remained.
A poison only those who had mastered the pinnacle of assassination could wield.
If Salana willed it, the man before her would meet a mysterious death tonight.
"Shall we move to a quieter spot first?"
Salana exited the inn's back door with Rishir and entered a deserted alley.
"I know it's incredibly rude, but... may I touch Salana's face for a moment?"
It was the first thing Rishir said after agonizing the whole way.
Here, Salana hesitated once.
'Just kill him?'
Her eyes held that torment.
Interpreting her gaze somehow, Rishir nodded and brought his hand to her face.
"Excuse me."
"..."
A tiny crack formed in the mask of the 'carefree senior adventurer' Salana had created.
A man's touch on the area she herself recoiled from.
Salana glared at Rishir coldly.
Fine, let's hear him out.
See what nonsense he spouts.
All the quacks and scammers she'd met before had tried to dazzle her, the layman, with plausible talk.
From that experience, Salana had one realization.
Three minutes.
If the spiel went over three minutes, it wasn't worth hearing.
So Rishir had three minutes too.
Rishir nodded.
His closed mouth opened.
Salana started the countdown.
Planning to watch how this foolish scammer used his remaining three minutes of life.
"All right. Shall we check?"
"?"