Chapter 225
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 225
Chapter Title: Leave It to Me
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Golden Age.
The oldest record in human history, a primordial world where human civilization had yet to even sprout.
The primitive humans survived the harsh natural environment solely thanks to the spirits' benevolence.
In the midst of that, humanity learned to communicate with the spirits and wield their power.
At the pinnacle stood the Fairy Queen and the Wordbearer.
They were humanity's first absolutes, transcending human limits through spirit arts and shamanic spells.
Of course, that was in the primordial era.
When the gods descended to the earth and the Golden Age ended, the Great Witch and the Saint emerged, forcing the Fairy Queen and the Wordbearer to relinquish their positions as absolutes.
But that didn't mean they vanished entirely.
Even after the Silver Age, the Fairy Queen occasionally ventured from her Fairy Kingdom to meddle in the world, and the shamans passed down their teachings to new talents generation after generation.
One such successor was Plato.
He always called himself a philosopher, but he was more renowned as a shaman or statesman than a scholar.
A Wordbearer who had lived over 2,000 years and reached the highest realm in shamanism in history.
And Rimon's impression of that legendary figure from the history books was simple.
"He was one hell of a con artist."
"A con artist, you say?"
"He talked your ancestors into forming the Free City League with nothing but words."
"True, that's the stuff of legends in our Seven Dragon Society too."
Li Chingwei gave a wry smile.
Breaking the strongest magic barrier in London, forcing the final fortress Tartarus to surrender, and isolating even the first mystery, the Fairy Kingdom—the seven dragons' feats.
Against those seven dragons, Plato had secured autonomy for old Greece without spilling a single drop of blood. It was truly historic.
"Well, whatever. He was the real deal, whether as a Wordbearer, con artist, or statesman."
Rimon said flatly.
Plato wasn't an absolute, but his influence on the world rivaled any.
The philosophy and governance theories he researched and spread over 2,000 years became the foundation for countless disciplines.
That's why Rose suddenly spoke up.
"I've been wondering about something."
"What is it, Countess?"
"I heard Plato despised artists."
"He did. No artists set foot in the Free City League while he was alive."
Rose nodded.
As the princess of the Blue Dragon Clan, versed in every field of study, she already knew that.
But precisely because of that, after learning about the divine relic hidden in London, she posed her lingering question to Rimon.
"Yet why would Plato leave behind this kind of relic? Do you know the reason?"
"You can't wrap your head around a guy who hated artists so much possessing something like this?"
"Yes."
Rose nodded seriously.
It was a mystery no record or document could reveal—one only Rimon, who had actually met Plato, could answer.
Rimon chuckled at Rose's straightforward question, befitting the Blue Dragon Clan.
"Simple reason. That old Plato hated artists, but not art itself."
"...Is that so?"
"Yeah. He pursued the most ideal art, so he couldn't recognize human artists."
Any poem, no matter how flowery.
Any sculpture with the golden ratio.
Moving music or stunning paintings.
From the moment imperfect humans created them, they were incomplete art. True perfection existed only in the Idea, the essence of all things.
Thus, he saw artists as con artists mimicking the true art of imagination—an artistic idealist.
That was the weirdo Plato.
Listening to Rimon's amused explanation, Rose wore a strange expression.
"Then why did Plato have something like this...?"
"Probably just as you guessed, Countess."
The answer was so unexpected.
Unlike Rose's complicated look, Li Chingwei nodded vigorously.
"I see. Even an idealist who couldn't accept real-world art couldn't suppress his desire to manifest ideal art in reality."
"Every idealist dreams of realizing their ideals. Especially an artistic one—no need to explain."
"Of course. Art is instinct to an artist. If you can hold back, you're no artist."
Ainsha declared firmly.
She scanned the table with her expressionless face and added,
"But it's surprising. I never knew Plato had a hobby in sculpture. Shocking."
"Well, given what that old man did in life, he'd have hidden it thoroughly."
Plato, who treated all artists as con artists and exiled them.
If caught creating art himself, rebellion would erupt. He'd have hidden it at all costs while alive.
Rimon said mischievously.
His gaze fell on the case on the table.
More precisely, the signature of Plato (Πλάτων) engraved on the pure gold sculpting chisel inside. He crossed his arms.
"Honestly, I'm more shocked he boldly signed his name on it."
"Indeed. Political suicide. No sane person would."
"It's a mystery to me too."
Without the signature, no one would even know it was Plato's relic.
Why would a top statesman like Plato risk it all, leaving clear proof of his weakness on this chisel?
They pondered the unsolvable riddle for a moment.
Rimon soon shook his head.
He looked at the pure gold sculpting chisel and spoke.
"Whatever—senility in old age or some other scheme—it doesn't matter. What's key is it's one of the Seven Arks."
"...True enough."
Li Chingwei nodded.
The chisel's true value lay in being a Seven Ark.
Plato's intentions weren't worth agonizing over now.
"Problem is what to do with this chicken rib."
"Chicken rib?"
"Countess, care to explain?"
"Certainly."
Rose nodded lightly at Rimon's words.
The Blue Dragon Clan had bought this chisel from European refugees to serve as the core of London's barrier.
Naturally, they knew its utility and usage, passed on to Rimon.
"Li Chingwei, you've probably guessed, but this isn't a magic tool."
"A shamanic tool after all?"
"Yes."
"A divine relic-level shamanic tool made by Plato... Even without the Seven Ark part, it's an incredible treasure."
"Indeed. They say it was the most expensive of the nine treasures our clan bought during the Demon God War."
Divine relic-level magic tools were already priceless antiques, hard to obtain even with money.
A shamanic tool was treated as an ancient relic, known to almost no one.
Shamans capable of making them were rarer than witches now.
"But if it's a shamanic tool..."
"Yes. We can't use it."
Rose smiled bitterly and nodded.
She added,
"At least not until passing the spirit's trial embedded in it."
Unlike magic tools forged with magic, shamanic tools used spirit power.
Without the spirit's permission, they couldn't be used at all in most cases.
That was one key reason spirit shamans and Wordbearers, who dominated the Golden Age, were pushed out by witches and priests.
"And according to that hag Syr, we can't awaken the Seven Ark's power until passing the spirit's trial to a degree."
"...A double seal, then."
Li Chingwei nodded.
Thinking back, Yujin had said to "awaken" the Seven Arks.
Like how only Rimon could play the Heartshadow Violin, each might have unique restrictions.
Or only treasures with such restrictions became Seven Arks.
"So, what's the trial?"
"Records say three stages. The content is..."
A moment later.
After hearing the spirit trial explanation, Li Chingwei wore a strange expression.
"It seems ridiculously easy yet impossibly hard."
"After it was found, only one person passed even two stages."
"Who?"
"Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni."
At that answer.
Li Chingwei's expression grew even stranger.
She glanced at resigned Rose and temple-rubbing Rimon, then spoke.
"...In other words, even Michelangelo—one of history's greatest sculptors—couldn't fully pass the spirit's trial?"
"Correct."
"To awaken the Seven Ark's power, we need a sculptor on par or better?"
"If Syr's guess holds."
Li Chingwei understood.
Why Rimon called it a chicken rib.
Plato's relic or Seven Ark, useless without usability.
Can't give it to Liberation Brigade either.
Can't use personally, too valuable to give away—perfect chicken rib.
"Tricky situation."
"Tell me about it."
As they clucked tongues and sighed in frustration.
A curt voice cut in.
"Question. What exactly is the problem?"
"...You didn't hear our talk?"
"I did."
Like she wasn't an idiot.
Ainsha met Rimon's eyes and continued.
"Simple solution. Find a great sculptor. No need to agonize."
"That's obvious, but where do we find history-level talent on that timeline?"
Rimon asked incredulously.
Ainsha, receiving his gaze, puffed her chest proudly despite her blank face.
"If you forgot, I'll remind you. I am the White Dragon Princess."
"..."
Rimon’s face screamed, 'And?'
Li Chingwei tilted her head, Rose puzzled.
At the trio's response, light-years from expected, Ainsha's shoulders slumped as she mumbled sullenly.
"You all forgot the White Dragon Clan's main business. Shocking. Major disappointment."
"...Ah."
"Now that you mention..."
They realized anew.
Among the Seven Dragon Group dominating worldly wealth, the White Dragon Clan specialized in cultural arts.
This white-haired girl had the most direct and indirect connections to top artists worldwide.
"Leave it to me. I'll find the world's greatest sculptor, staking the White Dragon Clan's honor."
Watching Ainsha boldly declare with her expressionless face, Rimon thought to himself.
Being the world's top prophet yet making bold claims sound so unreliable—now that's a talent.