Seeing Is Believing
Seeing is believing.
It would be faster to simply show them.
“Sir Isra.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yeah.”
Having already grasped my intent, Sir Isra held out the sword she had been gripping in reverse.
The Blood-red Longsword of the Fallen Knight.
It was identical to the one I had seen at the Exhibition of the Twelve Heroes—and, going further, completely the same form that had appeared in my dreams.
“You there.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Sir Gerard’s concern was only natural.
The dense grudge steeped into the blade. A sword that held not only the resentment of those who had fallen, but Sir Isra’s own fury as well.
An ordinary hunter would fall into a status ailment just from swinging it.
But still—
If I wanted them to understand just how extraordinary my “teacher” was, this was the best way.
Frenzy Lv 35
Black Rage Lv 39
A boiling heart. My vision dyed itself red.
“Hoo.”
Don’t make me laugh.
I am Sir Isra’s lord. You think I’d yield to the rage my subordinate left behind?
Blacksmith’s Soul
Heavenly Martial Body
Fwoosh!
The vision that had gone scarlet snapped back to normal.
An ability I had obtained upon ranking up to C-class. Blacksmith’s Soul improved one’s control over weapons—and I had figured it would also hold the sword’s corruption at bay.
It worked.
Mana Release
I focused the mana within my body into the sword.
Imperial Sword Style
Form 1
I unfolded the swordsmanship Sir Isra had taught me without a hair’s breadth of error.
Whoosh!
A single stream of wind rose from the dark-crimson blade and swept the silence from the sparring hall.
It was not Aura. It was power soaked into the sword, forcibly brought forth.
Understanding Sir Isra’s life. Understanding the sword as a blacksmith. And as someone who—while not quite a swordsman yet—had studied under the greatest blade on the continent…
I swung the sword to perfection, and drew out the power of the Blood-red Longsword of the Fallen Knight.
“How was that?”
“Flawless.”
Uh.
Uhhh.
I hadn’t exactly been aiming for high praise here.
“Your summon is remarkable, but you yourself are a treasure as well.”
A single tear rolled down the wrinkled skin of his face.
No.
Why are you crying?!
Was my refusal to become your disciple that much of a shock?!
“It was beautiful. That strike just now.”
“Ehk.”
“Then would you at least tell me the name? Who was the master who taught you that magnificent sword strike?”
“She’s standing right in front of you. Sir Isra.”
Sir Gerard’s gaze swung to the right—and then,
“Ghk! Cough, cough!”
He broke into a dry fit of coughing.
What? Is learning the sword from your own familiar really that surprising?
“Minho, my boy. That claim just now—is it the truth?!”
Master Alfons’s reaction was even hotter than I had expected.
“Yes. It is, but—”
“You were taught swordsmanship by an undead you created yourself?”
“I’m learning magic from Ingrid.”
Master Alfons staggered with a long huuuh.
I honestly don’t know why everyone is this shocked. Don’t self-aware undead like Dullahan and Death Knights already exist? There are high-grade undead that retain memories of their lives. Learning a bit of swordsmanship or magical technique should be more than possible.
“About that, Minho, my boy.”
Master Alfons cleared his throat.
“Strictly speaking, those undead do not possess a soul.”
Excuse me?
“They have spirit, but have lost their soul.”
Even if you put it that way, I don’t really follow.
My blank look prompted further explanation.
Soul—the spirit dwelling in a living being. Spirit—the sum of experience and achievement built over a lifetime. Only when the two were joined could one speak of a complete soul-and-spirit.
“One may say that high-grade undead have a self, but that is merely the motion of spirit. It is not a soul.”
Of course I hadn’t known. I’m not exactly an orthodox necromancer. The undead I’ve made so far top out at mid-grade at best. At the level of Tigris or Draco, simple communication is possible—but I never thought of them as having soul-and-spirit. They’re nowhere near as strongly self-aware as the Lich or Death Knight on the fiftieth floor of the Tower of Chaos.
“Which is why learning anything from an undead is impossible.”
“There are cases—Liches who sealed their own soul-and-spirit, or some Doom Knights—who possess both. Even so, what cannot be done cannot be done.”
Two of the Twelve Heroes declared it without hesitation.
I turned astonished eyes on Sir Isra and Ingrid.
“Is that not only natural? Did you not know?”
“I’m sorry. This girl should have explained it to you earlier.”
Right. So I was the only one in the dark.
This was as shocking as finding out Santa Claus is actually your dad!
“And what am I supposed to do if the man who made undead with soul-and-spirit is the one startled by this?”
“This isn’t something ordinary hunters know!”
Oops. I was so shocked I yelled at the Twelve Heroes.
“Hahaha. It’s a theory published in a Clock Tower thesis. Look it up sometime.”
The conversation had wandered a bit, but it settled on the conclusion that my two familiars were extraordinarily special.
“If you won’t be my disciple, how about at least putting your name on the Clock Tower’s rolls?”
“Ahem. Our proud Royal Hunter Corps is more than happy to take foreigners.”
No.
I thought we were done.
“You said you were friends with Director Jeong!”
“Heh heh. I can take a little scolding.”
“The Executor will understand.”
The two elders’ recruitment pitch showed no sign of ending even after a full hour.
Save me.
Guaaaaaaagh.
After the chaotic exchange match finally ended, I returned to the Tower Master’s chambers.
“I’ve kept my honored guests standing far too long. Everyone, please sit.”
Kehk.
Somehow this smells like round two.
I twitched, and Master Alfons let out a hearty laugh.
“Did I not say I would respect your wishes, Minho, my boy?”
“Yeeeess. Thank you.”
“If I simply let you leave like this, people will say the Clock Tower is a stingy host, will they not?”
When he put it like that, how was I supposed to get up?
With a sense of resignation, I sank onto the sofa.
Incredibly soft.
“Wait a moment. I’ll bring tea.”
“Bring milk tea as well.”
“You want me to go looking for that dreadful hybrid abomination in Britain?”
The two heroes were growling at each other again. But their voices did not reach my ears.
Soul and spirit.
Until now I had always run the two words together as if they were one. But they could be treated as separate things.
The skill I gained upon ranking up to B-class—the core of Soulstone Creation was capturing the traces of soul-and-spirit. I had vaguely thought, Do I have to go hunting for soul-and-spirit from another world again? But after hearing Master Alfons’s explanation, a certain hypothesis rose to mind.
If spirit was record and experience… then couldn’t I create a soulstone in a place where a particular person had long remained?
“Tower Master, I have a request.”
“If you join the Clock Tower, I can grant you anything.”
“You old man!”
At Sir Gerard’s shout, Master Alfons snorted.
“Can’t a man even joke?”
I feel like he put at least a spoonful of sincerity in that one.
Master Alfons let a flicker of regret show, then smiled again.
“If it’s something that can be handled on a personal level, I can hear you out.”
“That’s a relief.”
I took a mana stone in my hand.
“I gained a skill when I ranked up to B-class, and I’d like to experiment with it here in the Tower Master’s room.”
“It won’t explode or anything, will it?”
“Probably… not.”
“This place is warded against even nuclear-level force, so it should be fine no matter what. Make yourself comfortable.”
I had the party’s permission. That should be enough.
Gripping a B-grade mana stone, I used the skill.
Soulstone Creation
On first use, the skill guide will assist the user.
Usage conditions have been met. Proceeding to the next stage.
Oh. Ohhhhhh!
It works! It’s working!
“Is there a reaction?”
“You iron-headed oaf—look at our Lord’s face and you’ll feel it!”
My body moved on its own. I took the carving knife stored in my subspace carrier and—
Shhk— shhk—
I carved the mana stone into the shape of a flame.
This was no ordinary carving. While cutting with the knife, I inscribed spirit circuits into it.
The sensation left in my fingertips. If I didn’t want to forget it, I would need to practice again and again.
You have crafted a Soulstone.
A completed soulstone activates immediately.
An activated soulstone seeks out and stores soul-and-spirit.
Once the mana stored in the mana stone is fully exhausted, it can hold no more soul-and-spirit.
The flame-shaped mana stone trembled like a phone on vibrate mode.
Ssssss—!
A pale, hazy current of air was drawn into the stone.
“Strange. It isn’t mana—I can’t tell what it’s absorbing.”
“It’s spirit.”
Soul does not linger in objects or spaces.
“There is also the concept of earthbound spirits, though.”
“Shh.”
Read the room. What I’m about to explain is the general rule.
“Soulstone Creation is a skill that holds soul-and-spirit.”
“So you’re saying that this space where I have long remained—the Tower Master’s chambers—is steeped in spirit.”
“Yes. After hearing what you said just now, it seemed possible.”
After acquiring Soulstone Creation, I had tried it several times, only to be rejected over and over with messages that the conditions weren’t met. If the skill only targeted soul-and-spirit from another world, it would have no reason to exist. I had been quietly giving up—then Master Alfons’s explanation gave me the spark of inspiration.
And the result?
You have crafted a Soulstone.
Success.
◈ Category: Catalyst
◈ Durability: 50/50
◈ Restriction: None
◈ A mana stone that has captured soul-and-spirit. Can be used for soul-related skills or item crafting.
Looking at the result, my mouth fell open.
Good heavens. A Unique-grade item, of all things!
“Hmm. Is that all?”
Master Alfons made no effort to hide his disappointment.
“I am, I’ll have you know, one of the Twelve Heroes. And yet it’s only Unique? Hard to believe.”
“Hahaha! If you’d collected my traces, it would have come out Legendary.”
“As if you would be any different.”
“A pity. If we were in Britain, I could prove it right now.”
They were even fighting over pride about the soulstone’s grade.
Watching two prideful geniuses go at it was enough to make my head spin.
“Let’s run a few more experiments first.”
The medium for a soulstone was a mana stone. Depending on how much spirit it held, the soulstone’s grade could change.
“Hmm. There is sense in that.”
“Be honest. It’s because this boy’s skill is lacking. The mana stone is blameless.”
“This is why one should not converse with an ignorant brute.”
“What was that? Come at me!”
The sharp clash of the Twelve Heroes. I no longer had the courage to look upon the unvarnished faces of the heroes from the history textbooks.
“Hmph. A most undignified display.”
“We, at least, should carry some weight. Isn’t that right, my Lord?”
You’re the same, you know.
At my familiars’ attitude of discussing it as if it were someone else’s problem, I forced myself to nod.
No. Who knows—maybe this will serve as mirror therapy.
Holding that faint hope in my heart, I continued to experiment with the Soulstone Creation skill.