59. The Great Valenos Direct Contract Comes with Risks
The direct contract with the great Valenos came with grave risks. A direct contract meant the contractor and the contractee became one body, a shared community of existence. If the contractor's soul wasn't on the same level as a spirit's, the soul could collapse under the strain. And if that spirit was the king of spirits, the soul's level simply couldn't endure it.
But who was standing before him? A transcendent being who had reached the pinnacle of humanity a thousand years ago. Rowen Valenos. No, Rian Rose voiced his dissatisfaction to his ancestor.
“Is that a gain for me?”
“Gain or not, I have to stop them. If I don’t contract with someone, I’m bound to the spirit realm.”
That had been the pact he'd made with some nameless god thousands of years ago. Having transcended humanity, Valenos wanted to leave his power for his descendants. This vast strength shouldn't be hoarded by one alone. The world teemed with demons. Thus, he needed to forge a unit to slay them. That unit became the Valenos family.
He founded a family in his own name and sired children. Contracting with the god, he became the highest spirit and infused his descendants with power. Generations proliferated, and eventually, he ascended to the throne of the Spirit King. The Valenos family's power grew immense through millennia of tradition. With each succession, it amplified ever so slightly, allowing them in the present to emit even black energy.
But ascending to Spirit King brought restrictions. He had to cherish the young spirits and elves, distancing himself from humans. So he reduced the number of his children. Not through slaughter—quite naturally. He set it so their numbers dwindled over time. About forty years ago, the blessed child who inherited the most of his power was born: Kadan Valenos. With that reincarnation of himself, the adult rituals came to an end. There had been a boy named Kael too, but his potential paled beside Kadan's, so it hardly mattered.
Even Kadan couldn't handle a direct contract with him. But Rowen was different. The noble soul's level from his past life was on another plane. That's why he'd proposed a direct contract to Rowen. It was inevitable someday. Born as a family to eradicate demons, they had to live hating demons. And Rowen fit perfectly!
He'd hated demons in his past life, and he hated them now. He even matched on a soul level. No vessel had ever fit so ideally. Rowen cautiously asked Valenos.
“This direct contract thing... Can't we do it after you bloom my Mana Flower?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Increasing your mana limit doesn’t make you directly stronger. A brat who couldn’t cast a single spell properly. You know that yourself.”
“...So you’re saying I should take you into my body and wield you like a weapon?”
“Exactly.”
“But that’s your opinion, not mine.”
Honestly, having the Spirit King as his familiar wasn't a bad deal. But he had no intention of postponing the blooming of his Mana Flower forever. So he proposed,
“Can’t we do both?”
“Excessive greed leads to collapse.”
“It’s not greed. It’s a wish.”
“Even if you call it that... it’s impossible.”
“Why should it make sense that everyone else gets the blessing but I don’t?”
“You’re the only one who can even direct contract with me.”
“So why not?”
Valenos formed a sphere of pure mana. Something transparent swirled in the air, soon filling with cold frost.
“Behold. Imagine this as the state when you and I assimilate.”
Inside the round orb, dense blue mana packed tight. At its center, like Rowen's core, it spun violently. A savage form, yet the flow was smooth. Natural was the right word. He'd trained constantly, after all.
“And this is what happens when you bloom your Mana Flower.”
Valenos blew mana in with a massive hand. Countless snowflake stems wrapped the orb. Cracks spiderwebbed across the already full sphere. Crack, crunch! It shattered with a sharp clang, bursting into ice in midair. The sphere vanished without a trace. Then Valenos eyed Rowen as if to say, This is your future.
“Even with a similar level, the human body has limits. You know that.”
“...Hah.”
“Don’t be too disheartened. Your current mana is enough to keep fighting.”
“I need ample mana to spam the spells I’ll use ahead. I don’t want to run dry.”
Rowen could feel it. In this world after a millennium, the demon cult's presence was overwhelmingly vast. He’d crush Tesiah overwhelmingly now, but he didn’t know how strong Nom was. He needed stronger spells. No, he already knew them. But spamming them required more mana still. Even Mio struggled with chaining top-tier spells.
“What happened to the holy sword from your past life?”
“It’s in my tomb.”
“...Can you retrieve it now?”
“I was gonna after inheriting the power. But since you suggested otherwise, it’ll have to wait.”
Rowen sneered. Frankly, Valenos felt only pity. Rowen's level matched his own, but just a bit more—just two steps higher—and the Mana Flower could bloom. But that was angelic territory. Beings above the Spirit King, servants of the gods. Among the five heroes, only the great saintess Lea had reached it.
In the end, he couldn't have both now. So...
“For me right now, the direct contract with you beats power inheritance, right?”
“Exactly. The difference in power is vast. More quantity doesn’t beat quality.”
“...Fine. Let’s contract.”
“You changed your mind quickly. Any reason?”
“I’ll reclaim the holy sword and things’ll play out, leading me to Lea. I’ll just ask her how to become an angel then.”
“...Planning to become a messenger of the gods?”
“That was the plan in my past life. We’re already blessed; we just respond to their will.”
“So you can become an angel that way?”
“Who knows? Only the saintess Lea knows the details.”
Mio had said it: Lea became an angel by the gods' will and ascended to the divine realm. Rumors said she'd returned to some human world, but even Mio didn't know where. Still, following the holy sword's will would surely lead to Lea someday. Oddly, only Abel's whereabouts were silent. Abel's unique barrier in Albrin Forest—that was the sole trace. No other news. Assassins stayed true to form, leaving no stories behind.
Spirit King Valenos faced his descendant squarely. He said the past life was the past. Now, he was Rowen. True enough. Even with past memories, he was born in Snowfall, a son of the North. Valenos approached with a grave expression. Formless, yet he touched Rowen. A gentle sensation brushed his cheek. The massive hand was benevolent. Blood ties or past connections aside, he was family. Rowen felt its warmth.
“Then let us begin.”
Light enveloped Rowen, and Valenos's form was sucked into him. Synchronization. Two souls in one body. Rowen controlled it, Valenos lent the power. Upon completion, it’d be near-familiar status. Valenos knew this, choosing Rowen for it. He was worthy. Their brief past-life bond sufficed to feel his sincerity. Regret lingered too—a sentiment cleared here and now.
Mio and Arahan watched blankly. Arahan scanned Rowen head to toe, enraptured. Three hours since he’d lost consciousness. Worry gnawed, but she could only rest his head on her lap. She stroked his hair naturally—a long habit. His unkempt locks mirrored his free spirit. A half-blood: not pure Valenos white, but imperial ash-gray mixed in.
Mio knelt, gazing at him. He slept peacefully, oblivious. Faint mana began emanating from his body. The subtle glow added mystique, marking him special—like his father. Not by blood, but the love from Kadan who raised him made mana adore him too.
Lesser spirits drew near gradually. Their father and king. The man chosen by the Spirit King would soon awaken. King of the North, king of spirits. No one doubted him now. Bastard my ass. He was true Valenos blood. Irregular of dragon and spirit lineage. Blessed by angels, chosen by gods, bearer of infinite fate.
Arahan gazed at Rowen with overflowing affection—a tender face hidden from others. His mere presence brought joy. Her beloved, once scorned. Now loved by many. She wasn’t fool enough to envy spirits. She was a fool for Rowen alone, living and dying by him.
Mio felt the same. She’d sensed his heart lay with Arahan. Was she just a past-life comrade? The thought backfired. He was king. He could embrace both women without care. Yet his worries and Arahan’s obsession forbade it. Still, Mio loved Rowen. She watched him slumber on Arahan’s lap. Unchanged. Even branded bastard, like his past life, he drew love from many.
“Stop staring.”
“No.”
“He’s my young master.”
“He’s my Rian.”
“...He has a name: Rowen.”
“Why obsess over his name like that?”
She had to. Rian was the name from Mio’s era with that wretched woman. Rowen was hers. Self-reproach for name jealousy changed nothing.
“No reason. I call him Rowen because that’s his name.”
“What’s that supposed to mean...!”
“If you must, call him Rowen too.”
“...Hah! That Uba bastard. How’d he teach his disciple?”
Arahan covered her mouth, chuckling.
“Agreed.”
“What?”
“My master lacked teaching talent. A muscle-brained pig who only knew beatings.”
“I swear I heard some weird shit somewhere.”
On the crimson earth, corrupted by dark energy, Uba Kaliarun dripped blood. Black blood trickled down his mace’s steel, staining the ground. At once, a mighty holy lotus bloomed. Standing there, he dropped the steel mace and dug in his ear.
“...Who’s badmouthing me!?”