Chapter 10: Misunderstanding (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 10: Misunderstanding (5)
After dealing with the golems.
"Have you been hiding your strength all this time?"
Evan, who had returned to the carriage and was preparing camp, asked, unable to contain his curiosity.
"Not at all."
"…Then you’re saying that was truly a 2nd Tier spell?"
"Yes."
Evan wore an expression of pure disbelief at Alon’s answer.
"I see."
However, realizing from their past conversations that further questioning wouldn't yield a better answer, Evan let out a long sigh. He nodded as if accepting it and went back to preparing the camp.
Watching him, Alon remained expressionless on the outside, but he felt a slight sense of injustice.
In truth, Alon himself had no idea why the magic he had just cast had manifested in such a way.
‘…I knew that applying Constraints would make it stronger, but still.’
Combat in Psychedelia, the game Alon played, was turn-based rather than real-time. In the game, using Hand Seals and Phrases consumed turns to amplify magic damage.
Depending on the spell, forming the appropriate Hand Seal would strengthen the magic itself.
And if one selected the correct Phrase from hundreds of floating options within a time limit, the very properties of that magic would be enhanced.
For example, the spell he used this time—called 'Chain Lightning' in Psychedelia—utilized four specific Phrases:
Refraction, Repulsion, Clear Light, and Linear Diffraction.
He had amplified the Chain Lightning spell with those four Phrases and Hand Seals, and on top of that, he had placed a personal Constraint on himself to always use Hand Seals and Phrases when casting, further boosting the power.
In other words, Alon had expected the spell to be several times stronger than usual.
‘But I didn't think it would be this powerful.’
In Psychedelia, forming a Hand Seal and reciting a Phrase each took one turn.
This meant the spell Alon just used was, in game terms, a spell prepared over five turns.
‘…Even considering that, was it enough to overkill a golem…?’
Alon pondered for a moment before shrugging his shoulders.
Regardless, the conclusion was that the schedule was proceeding as well as he’d hoped, and the fact that his magic was stronger than expected was something to be happy about.
In fact, beyond just being happy, Alon’s mind was currently consumed by academic curiosity.
‘Honestly, I’d love to run some experiments.’
The Hand Seals and Phrases Alon had used this time were part of a build in Psychedelia where the protagonist was raised as a mage known as a 'Glass Cannon,' designed to easily wipe out large swarms of enemies. It was a sequence used exclusively for large-scale lightning magic.
This meant that in Alon’s mind, there were at least ten other combinations of Phrases and Hand Seals perfectly preserved, aside from the ones he used today.
More than anything, the reason Alon’s curiosity was piqued was because of how the magic visibly shifted every time he uttered a Phrase.
‘In the game, Phrases just increased damage by 10% whenever you picked the right one. But here, it’s different.’
An ordinary mage might not have noticed.
But Alon, who had performed the magic himself and possessed an exceptional talent for mana control, had 'observed' the properties of the magic changing distinctly with every added Phrase.
It wasn't just the power increasing; the very nature of the mana was transforming according to each Phrase.
Therefore.
‘I’ll have to experiment as soon as my mana recovers.’
Contrary to his stoic exterior, Alon closed his eyes inside the carriage in a very good mood.
* * *
At that same moment.
A girl appeared at the site where Alon had used his magic, where nothing remained but piles of rubble that could no longer become golems.
A girl with glowing, deep green eyes.
"…."
The girl—no, the one who might one day be called Line, the Sin of Greed—silently passed the heaps of golems and stared at the door Alon had entered earlier.
The door was cracked and worn, yet the carvings around the frame emphasized that it was not a natural formation, but something man-made.
However, Line knew that the carvings on this frame were not merely decorative.
Born with a great mission and the innate ability to access the 'Ancient Library' at any time, she could understand what was written on that frame.
‘The script of the Illanef Empire, from the forgotten Age of Gods.’
Recognizing it, Line began to read the words on the frame.
[By the coward Palaon, for the friend who will be left behind.]
"…Ha."
Line let out an involuntary, hollow laugh as she read those words.
She knew that in the ancient tongue, there was only one person who used the name 'Palaon.'
The Great Palaon.
The noble, revered, great, and brilliant Emperor who had repeatedly repelled the invasions of the 'Black Things' during the Age of Gods and defeated 'Al-Akulakka,' the entity that made subjects offer up their hearts just by looking at it.
Knowing that the name Palaon in the ancient language referred only to that one man, she couldn't help but laugh.
At the same time.
‘A friend named Palaon made it.’
Alon’s voice echoed in Line’s mind.
The image of the Great Moon, who had gazed silently at the outer wall with a stoic yet somehow heavy expression, surfaced in her mind, and a single hypothesis began to cloud her thoughts.
Denial and affirmation clashed in her head, the scales tipping toward denial.
But then, she remembered the magic Alon had displayed just after exiting the Labyrinth.
"…."
His magic hadn't seemed particularly extraordinary.
However, the Phrases he had muttered were different.
The Phrases whispered by the Great Moon were certainly things that did not exist even in the Ancient Library.
Recalling that, the scales fluctuated again until they reached a perfect balance.
‘…I knew he was no ordinary person since the Bloodia Queen, who is only found in history books, follows him.’
Finally, her thoughts reached the identity of the Red Moon that led the Blue Moon, and the scales in her mind solidified the hypothesis as truth.
That the Great Moon was the very friend to whom Palaon showed such respect and reverence, even while humbling himself.
The moment she reached that conclusion, she felt goosebumps break out over her entire body and looked toward where Alon was.
…By the time a clear light of respect began to shine in the eyes of the girl who, until now, had moved without purpose, simply following the orders of the Red Moon.
"You’ve returned."
As Line shifted her gaze toward a subtle presence she felt, Deus appeared out of nowhere, his purple eyes glowing faintly as he nodded.
"Yes."
"Did you find any information?"
Recalling how Deus had stopped monitoring Alon a week ago to pursue the Man in Black, she asked, but he shook his head.
"No. I obtained no information."
"…Why is that?"
At Line’s confused question, Deus began to explain what had happened while he was pursuing the Man in Black.
And then.
"You’re saying the Man in Black died while you were following him…?"
"Yes. In the middle of thin air, his neck suddenly snapped around twice. He died instantly. I felt absolutely nothing nearby."
Line fell silent for a moment at Deus’s words.
"It seems… we must report this."
"I agree."
With that final murmur and a few more exchanged words, they vanished from the spot.
Finally, the place was left empty, bathed only in the lonely moonlight.
* * *
Two months had passed since Alon obtained the Constraints in the Labyrinth of Whispers.
Altia was currently going through an incredibly chaotic period.
There were three reasons for this. The first was the sudden deaths of Kig, the second son of the Ducal house, and Firinne, the second daughter.
The second reason was that Duke Altia, who had been ailing for a long time and had been told he didn't have much longer to live, finally passed away.
The third reason was that Timalian, the eldest son of the Ducal house, died just a day after the Duke’s death, along with the eldest daughter, Malliane.
And they had killed each other with swords.
As a result, the sons and daughters of the Ducal house who were meant to carry on the lineage vanished in an instant, leaving Loria as the sole heir to the Duchy.
It was exactly like what had happened to the Palatio family not long ago.
"…."
Loria sat in the Duke’s office—a place she never thought she would reach—and quietly held her breath. It had only been two months.
Rumors about Loria had already begun to circulate within the Duchy.
Yet, ironically, despite the quiet spread of these rumors, she suffered no actual harm.
This was because she had a rock-solid alibi.
When the second daughter and second son died, she was just returning from a ball.
And the eldest daughter and eldest son had killed each other.
Loria hadn't even met with them recently. Above all, the reason she could avoid all suspicion was simple.
While she was away at the ball, her entire organization had been dismantled.
That was right.
By the time she returned from the ball, she had already lost all her power thanks to her damnable family members.
Because of that, even though rumors were whispering here and there, Loria remained above suspicion in every official administrative investigation.
The work was too clean, too perfect.
‘Good things will happen.’
Loria recalled that voice once more.
The events that followed those words, muttered so indifferently, were anything but indifferent.
She was already certain that this was his doing.
In fact, if anyone were to dismiss all of this as a mere coincidence, she would have called them a fool. Everything was far too deliberate.
‘…What does that man want?’
Loria thought back to her conversation with Alon.
He had outwardly rejected her request, yet he had handled the matter more decisively than anyone else. Even now, a month after all the heirs of the Duchy had died, he had made no contact with her.
Not even now, when she had absorbed all the leaderless organizations with minimal damage.
‘Pure goodwill?’
Loria smiled at the fleeting thought.
Even to her, it was a ridiculous notion.
After thinking for a long time, Loria finally reached a single conclusion.
Alon was painting a picture.
Of course, Loria didn't know what that picture was.
However, she realized one thing vaguely.
‘That picture requires the Altia Ducal House.’
What a being who could command someone capable of killing off the members of a Ducal house so naturally and without a trace would want was, ultimately, something he did not already possess.
In Loria’s mind, that was most likely the prestige and name of the Altia family.
‘And what can be done with that prestige is….’
Loria fell silent as her thoughts reached that point.
She finally realized.
Just what kind of absurd devil she had made a contract with.
"…."
Loria let out a hollow laugh, but she clenched her fists tight.
She knew there was no turning back now that the contract was made. She understood all too well from the four previous examples what would happen if she were to violate it.
Therefore, without even considering the word 'betrayal,' she decided to focus on what she had to do.
‘Still, I should send my thanks.’
A smile, one even she didn't recognize, etched itself onto her previously expressionless face.
A week later.
A bottle of wine and a card arrived at the Count’s office for Alon.
The wine was a vintage from Serangs, an imperial territory where only three bottles were produced a year, each costing thousands of gold.
* * *
With respect.
* * *
"???"
Alon wore a bewildered expression as he looked at the card that came with it.
.
.
.
And another two months after that.
"So. Loria, the third child of the Altia family, became the Duchess of Altia?"
"Yes."
"Loria Altia did?"
"That is correct…."
"???"
"Is there a problem, Young Master?"
Alon realized that something had gone very, very wrong.