Chapter 156: The Road Back (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 156: The Road Back (3)
The Spirit World.
The Dragonkin, who had been trapped for over a thousand years after sealing himself away, was deep in thought.
[Guaaaah!]
[Shut up for a second.]
He was currently modifying an artifact to give to Alon, but his mind was occupied by the 'Black Thing' attached to Alon’s back.
‘...Just what on earth is that?’
The Dragonkin had lost most of his power when he sealed himself. Even his name and abilities had been scattered somewhere in this world during the process, leaving him in an even more weakened state.
Yet, despite that, the Dragonkin could see the two eyes lurking behind Alon. The divinity he had possessed since the forgotten Age of Gods made it possible.
‘An entity capable of interfering with the Bronze Mirror...’
Unlike the 'Blue Thing,' the 'Black Thing' was quite proactive in blocking him whenever he tried to voice a suspicion—doing so in a way that Alon wouldn't notice.
It used overwhelming power.
‘That power—’
It made his entire body crawl with goosebumps, even though he was currently in a spiritual state.
It was an eerie power, unlike anything he had ever felt before—a force so chilling that it could erase his very existence as if it were nothing, simply by scattering its lingering resonance.
In truth, even if it hadn't threatened him, there was very little the Dragonkin could have deduced. However, it didn't seem like the Black Thing intended to harm the last remaining Magus in the world.
Even if he couldn't fully grasp the nature of that incomprehensible entity, he could discern its intentions to some extent through its actions.
‘...No, if anything, it seemed to be helping him.’
The Dragonkin eventually let out a heavy sigh. No matter how much he tried to imagine it, he simply had too little information.
And so.
‘...Just who is that kid, and why is he carrying something so monstrous behind him...?’
He could only mutter quietly to himself as he drifted aimlessly through the spiritual space.
* * *
About two weeks passed, and as they were nearing the end of their desert crossing...
"Godfather, I think I'll head back from here."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. I've finished what I needed to do, and there's something else I need to attend to."
"You must be busy."
Line let out a small laugh at Alon's words.
"Most of it is handled by my reliable secretary, so I'm not that busy, but there are things I need to do personally. Like preparing a gift for you, Godfather."
"...A gift for me?"
"Yes."
Alon felt a bit bewildered inwardly as he replied.
"...I'm not exactly looking for anything extravagant."
It was the truth. While he had felt a very, ve-ry small amount of disappointment that no one had remembered his last birthday, he wasn't particularly hoping for a grand gift.
...Of course, a big gift would be nice, but what he really wanted was simply for his birthday to be acknowledged.
"No, this is something I really want to give you."
"...I see."
"Yes. I want to give you a gift that will stay in your memory forever."
"If you're that determined, I won't stop you, but don't overdo it."
"No."
Line slowly shook her head.
"I want to build a relationship with you too, Godfather."
"...A relationship?"
"Yes. Like Seolrang."
Why is Seolrang coming up now...?
Alon thought for a moment before speaking.
"...Both Seolrang and you are like family to me."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. If you're trying to prepare a grand gift because of that, you don't have to. Regardless of what you might think, I truly think of you both the same way."
Alon cared for all of the Five Great Sins equally.
"Then do it for me too. That thing."
"...That thing?"
"Yes. What you did for Seolrang."
Alon flinched inwardly at Line’s uncharacteristically proactive request, but he reached out and gently covered her ears with both hands.
A moment of silence followed.
"Mmm—thank you."
At the end of it, Line smiled again.
"...Are you satisfied?"
"Yes."
"Then I'm glad."
It was a dry conversation. If anything, the surroundings were noisier.
[What is he doing? That looks utterly meaningless. Is it some kind of body heat regulation?]
"Ugh, how pathetic. I guess a handless snake wouldn't know any better—"
[Hah, the human brat is acting up again. Does that mean you actually know something?]
"Of course I do."
[What is it then?]
"I don't know."
[?]
"?"
[Didn't you say you knew?]
"I was lying."
[....]
Basiliora glared at Evan with a look that clearly said, 'Is this guy for real?'
As they watched this banter, they finally emerged from the desert.
"Then, I'll be going, Godfather."
"Right. I'll come visit you next time."
"I'll come see you on your birthday too."
Alon parted ways with Line.
Afterward.
Once Alon’s carriage had reached the far horizon, Line turned around.
"A relationship like this... isn't what I want with the Godfather."
She whispered softly to herself.
"...I want a relationship deeper than anyone else's."
Her faint green eyes shimmered.
"Deeper than anyone."
She quietly walked away.
* * *
It was about two weeks later when Alon arrived at the Count Palatio estate.
As soon as he saw the view of the territory.
"...Is this the Count's estate?"
Alon couldn't help but be surprised. He had only been away for about a month, yet the estate had become larger and more magnificent than before.
"Wow, it's only been a month, but it's changed so fast. Is this thanks to that Magic Construction?"
"Magic Construction?"
"Yes. I heard that if you have enough money, you can use mages to put up buildings incredibly fast."
"I see..."
Only then did he understand how the territory had changed so dramatically and quickly.
When he finally stepped inside the house, what he saw was...
"Hel...lo."
"Are you alright...?"
"Uh, well... I think I'm okay, but I also think I'm not."
It was Penia, looking utterly haggard.
"...Did something happen?"
She looked wilted, as if she had been plucked and shredded. Alon asked, feeling a bit uneasy.
Penia gave a self-deprecating laugh.
"So many things happen—ack."
She seemed to snap out of it as if realizing something.
"Nothing happened!"
She finished her sentence abruptly.
"Yes, really, nothing happened at all. Yes. That's right."
Penia’s voice gradually slowed down as if her energy was draining away.
Alon wore a strange expression for a moment, but he soon realized why Penia looked like death warmed over.
"Wait, did you... finish all of this?"
"...Didn't you tell me to do this before you left?"
Alon looked at Penia’s resentful expression and then shifted his gaze to the research journal she had brought. It was so thick it could practically be a law textbook. Alon’s mouth hung open slightly.
"No, what I mentioned was just a primary organization."
"...Eh? What?"
"...Didn't I say it then? I specifically told you to just organize the sum of the mana arrays according to the seals—"
"Doesn't that sum include the combination methods as well?"
"It does not."
What? Then what have I been doing all this time? Penia’s face went blank with despair.
Alon felt a bit guilty. Although he hadn't technically ordered her to do all that, the fact remained that she had suffered because of it.
Wondering if there was a way to compensate her, Alon let out a soft "Ah" as a thought occurred to him.
"...If you'd like, would you take this?"
Alon handed Penia a glass vial.
"What is... this?"
Her eyes were full of exhaustion, a sense of injustice, and grievance. Alon met those eyes awkwardly.
"...I heard it's a very excellent catalyst."
"An excellent catalyst?"
"Yes."
Of course, he didn't know much about its effects himself; he was just repeating what Seolrang’s secretary had told him, so he didn't know how good it actually was.
‘Well, Line said it looked quite good too.’
Regardless, he thought it would be a decent reward for Penia.
"...."
She took the catalyst with eyes full of suspicion and subtly channeled mana into it.
"...Gasp!"
She was instantly shocked.
"T-This—where did you get this?"
"What's wrong?"
Penia was trembling even as she asked. Alon became curious at her intense reaction.
"This is—this is unbelievable! It's a catalyst so incredible you couldn't even find it in the Forest of Distortion...! With this, I can finish experiments I couldn't even attempt before in one go—no, I could try them at least five times...!"
Penia began muttering to herself fervently. The look of grievance from moments ago had vanished, replaced by eyes that sparkled intensely as she held up the vial.
She looked thrilled, listing off the magic experiments she could now perform as if all her past hardships had been forgotten.
"Hehehe—"
When she even started letting out a strange(?) laugh, Alon realized once again that she was a mage to her very core.
"Will this suffice as a reward?"
"Yes! Yes, yes, yes!! It more than suffices!!"
Watching her spin around in place like a child who had just been given a kitten, Alon recalled something he had heard from a servant earlier.
"By the way, I heard Yutia came to see you. Was everything alright?"
It was a casual remark.
However.
Snap!
Penia suddenly froze in place. She moved her body stiffly, like a malfunctioning machine, and forced a response.
"Yes, well—of course. Nothing happened."
"...Really?"
"Yes. Nothing—nothing happened at all. Of course not."
She sounded incredibly awkward.
"I-I'll be going now."
"...? Alright."
"Yes."
She suddenly looked like she was on the verge of tears as she hurried away.
‘What on earth happened?’
Alon could only watch her retreating back with a puzzled expression.
* * *
About two weeks after the Count Palatio had returned.
Having left the elven land of Greinif, Philde and Perion arrived near the Count Palatio estate.
"Hum-hum~"
"Are you really that happy?"
Perion looked at Philde, who was humming as if she were in a fantastic mood. Philde nodded.
"Of course I am. I enjoy wandering through human villages much more than staying in Greinif."
"You have peculiar tastes."
"It's called being inquisitive. I'd rather conduct research while traveling the world than be stuck in a room studying magic."
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
"...But don't you usually just spend your time idly wandering around and drinking?"
"Oho—is that right? Well, that's not bad either."
Despite Perion’s pointed remark, Philde leisurely took a swig of alcohol.
Perion looked at her with a lack of trust, shook his head slightly, and continued.
"By the way, Lady Philde."
"Yeah?"
"Have you ever actually seen a Primordial Elf?"
"Nope."
"...The Spiritual Eye allows you to see souls. If you've never seen the soul of a 'Primordial Elf,' how are you supposed to distinguish it from other souls?"
"Hmm," Philde pondered for a moment before answering casually.
"I can't?"
"Pardon?"
"I said I can't distinguish it."
"...Then, don't tell me you lied to the Queen?"
When Perion’s expression hardened, Philde chuckled.
"Lied? As if. There's a way."
"...And what is that way?"
"Listen closely. A soul is originally configured to fit its body perfectly. In other words, if a soul that doesn't fit the body is inside, the body and soul won't match."
"So—if you just check for a mismatch between the soul and the body—"
"That's it."
Philde brought the bottle to her lips once more.
"Well, even so, the probability of that actually happening is less than 1%, I'd say."
"...Is it that rare?"
"I've never seen it happen once."
"Then doesn't that mean there's no chance at all?"
"Didn't you say you were suspicious?"
Perion remained silent for a moment before it finally clicked.
"...You just wanted an excuse to come out, didn't you?"
"A bit of both? I mean, I'm still going to check, right?"
Perion’s eyes turned cold as he watched Philde burst into a strange "Ehyahya" laugh.
‘...To think this person is a mage on the verge of the 9th Tier...’
He let out a sigh.
"We've arrived."
"Mm, is this the place?"
Philde, feeling good from the alcohol, naturally snapped her fingers upon arriving at the Count Palatio estate.
Spirit Magic, which uses the elves' unique affinity for spirits to construct magic circles, manifested. In an instant, a secret magic circle was created outside the estate's walls.
Perion let out a low breath at the magnificent sight.
A moment of silence followed.
Then, Philde, who had been closing her eyes—
"Found him."
She opened her eyes with a mischievous smile.
At that moment, an image was projected in front of the magic circle: the Count Palatio working in his office.
"Now then—shall we take a look—?"
With a languid voice, she 'opened' her Spiritual Eye—
"Wait...?"
Perion saw it.
Philde’s face, which had been wearing a light smile until a moment ago, instantly froze into a terrifyingly grim expression.
And he heard it.
"...The soul... it doesn't match?"
The bewildered murmur that escaped her lips.