Chapter 151

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Translator: Ryuma

Chapter: 151

Chapter Title: The Tiny Shadow Bird

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A specialist in creation, even acknowledged by the gods themselves.

The Immortal had left behind memories of horrific creations that would go down in history forever, now residing within Kang Seol.

But...

Squelch...

"No..."

It's hard.

Squelch...

"This is..."

This is completely difficult.

The black minions exploded one after another every time he tried to make them.

The sticky shadows overflowed from his hands, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠yet every attempt to shape them into something ended in failure.

The difficulty was simply too high.

'...I thought it'd work on the first try.'

Still, as the viewers said, Kang Seol was the type of guy whose persistence never let him down anywhere.

He kept kneading away at it.

Squelch... squelch...

"...This is impossible."

Turning down Phraenn's help because he was overconfident just from hearing it was a creation authority had been a mistake.

He had the Immortal's memories, but he wasn't the Immortal. In other words, he lacked the Immortal's talent.

Squelch...

"Ah... again..."

As the viewers' mockery and jeers toward Kang Seol continued, something in his pocket let out a wail.

"...What are you?"

"......Shut up and watch."

Squelch...

As Kang Seol's futile attempts dragged ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on, Bitan, unable to bear the tragedy, chimed in.

"Do you explode if I step on you too?"

"You're making me want to check."

"What?"

Bitan spoke up arrogantly.

"......"

As Kang Seol's expression hardened, Bitan finally realized something was wrong and shrank back.

Kang Seol quietly recalled Bitan's words.

'Simple and clear... I've heard that somewhere before.'

At that moment, an old phrase flashed through his mind.

'...Yeah, I was overthinking it. Let's just put in what's necessary first.'

Practical and simple.

He had forgotten those for a moment.

Crunch...

What was needed?

'First, it has to be small.'

Small.

'It needs free movement.'

Wings.

'Eyes... would be good too.'

Anything else?

'No need. That's enough.'

The sticky shadows began to clump together.

Seriousness etched across Kang Seol's face. Bitan, alternating glances between his face and the creation, rolled its eyes slightly and looked puzzled.

Squ...elch!

While the viewers burst into laughter, Kang Seol's reaction—and theirs—diverged sharply.

Something remained amid the squashed shadows.

A tiny bird.

The tiny bird shakily moved its body and let out a faint cry.

Cawww...

Phraenn was a fairly renowned figure even among the Zodiacs—no, among all contemporary mages.

Of course, with his grumpy personality and constant reek of alcohol, he just looked like a cantankerous old man on the surface.

Even so, no one could deny his extraordinary path when looking back on it.

Born the son of poor serfs, he entered monastic life early and worked as a menial for a wandering mercenary band, securing room and board.

He didn't waste that time, instead coaxing the band's mages into teaching him magic.

He was a prodigy.

His control over mana flow and his sharp intellect were unmatched.

Had the mercenary band not nearly disbanded due to a dangerous mission, he might have become a mercenary mage.

Alone now, he knocked on the door of the Mage Tower.

Having entered the path of magic late in life, the tower rejected him. It was a place full of young, overflowing talents. There seemed no room for him.

"Too late."

"A bit old to become a mage..."

"Talents like yours are everywhere."

He was evaluated by the ruthless like meat or slaves being appraised for quality—a past harsher on his heart than the nobility's whims.

Because while serfdom wasn't his choice, magic was.

When something you choose and strive for is wholly denied, people usually fall into despair. It might become a pit you can never escape.

But he was luckier than he thought.

"Hm, looks usable."

He later learned it was Veil, the stubborn high mage of Libra, who holed up in his lab daily without emerging.

"Lord Veil, this child is too old..."

"Age? Boy, your name is Phraenn?"

Phraenn would never forget that moment until death.

"Do you aspire to become a grand archmage commanding the world?"

"Ah, no..."

"Then it doesn't matter. A decent mage is fine—even starting now, with effort, it's enough."

"...Y-yes?"

"When I first came here, I brought a peculiar flower. It hasn't bloomed even at my age. Truly stubborn."

"...."

"So that's why this old man is rambling strangely..."

The old man named Veil met Phraenn's eyes and smiled faintly.

"I needed someone to tend that flower after I die. That someone is ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you."

Just a disciple to care for a flower, nothing more.

Phraenn was disappointed. Veil placed a hand on his head.

"And while at it, I want to see you bloom too. This... I should see before I die, right?"

"...Yes! I will!"

Time passed, and Veil died.

And Phraenn failed to keep his promise.

"Phraenn? Phraenn? Answer."

"...Yes?"

Phraenn was now surrounded by many Libra mages.

"Damn it, a flower doomed from birth—waiting for it to bloom..."

"Phraenn?"

"Well... at least it bloomed faster than that flower. My flower..."

"Phraenn! Answer—are you prepared?!"

Phraenn's face crumpled as he muttered.

"A bit late, old man. Just... a little longer."

"Hey, Phraenn!"

"It's fine."

"Swear it!"

The promised words flowed from Phraenn's mouth.

"Knowledge is the blade, wisdom the hilt. I am omnipotent yet incompetent. I pursue truth yet hold contradictions."

"...."

"I am a mage."

"We bestow upon you the glorious title of Sanctified Mage of the Libra Mage Tower. Bear the responsibility and expectations."

"Woooooooooo!"

"Phraenn! Phraenn!"

Damn it, damn it.

Damn itttt!

"Uwaaaaa! Damn it!"

"Wh-what's wrong?"

"Lord Phraenn?"

Phraenn shot up with a guttural scream.

'Ah, a dream. Bad luck first thing in the morning.'

Perhaps out of guilt for his late blooming, he often dreamed of his master.

Recalling he was traveling with the pilgrim and the odd transmigrator, he got up and asked.

"Where's that guy?"

"Ah, if it's Snowman... over there..."

Phraenn remembered something he'd forgotten in his drunken sleep overnight.

'Has he reflected a bit?'

Looking down on non-combat fields was a grave insult to Phraenn too.

Creation authorities required precise theory and expert guidance—even with talent, without them, one had to cling day and night for meager results.

'Because he gained too much power too quickly. Transmigrators anyway... becoming an adult gradually differs from waking up one as one. It'll take time, but steady progress will yield fruit.'

He tilted his head briefly, then continued his musings.

'He won't want advice from a fellow... scoundrel, so I should teach him some shortcuts. But...'

Sniff sniff...

"What's... this smell?"

It seemed the transmigrator was preparing a meal to impress him.

'At least he has some sense. If he's diligent, that'll do.'

Phraenn approached Kang Seol, inwardly pleased.

"Making breakfast?"

"Yes, just wait a bit and it'll be ready."

"Ahem... any progress on that?"

"Pardon? What do you mean?"

"You know, that... thing? Hm?"

But something caught his eye that irked him.

"What the hell are these crows... hey! They're pecking at the ingredients! What are you doing!"

Phraenn bellowed at Kang Seol.

And realized something was off.

"These crows..."

The crows had rust-red eyes.

Squelch...

Kang Seol watched the crow-shadow get squashed and return, looking regretful.

"Ah... it doesn't last long."

"......"

"What's wrong?"

Phraenn had always competed with geniuses in the Mage Tower.

In research, effort, life itself. Being a genius himself, he was confident in such struggles.

'But this guy... no way, overnight?'

Kang Seol scratched his head.

"Ah, this... turned out harder than expected."

Phraenn blanked out at the response.

He'd sometimes envied early-blooming geniuses.

But this was another dimension entirely.

The flower had already bloomed.

"You... you..."

"We've arrived."

The group's carriage pulled into Timbrian.

"But... not stopping by the villa?"

"No need, we can check out Baranoa's branch here first—it won't be late."

"I'll guide you, Lord Phraenn."

"Haha... look at that."

Kang Seol sensed something odd in Phraenn's reaction.

'What's with him?'

On the way, Phraenn barely spoke, only stealing glances at Kang Seol—unlike his usual chattiness.

'Mood swings, I guess.'

The group thus visited Baranoa's Timbrian branch.

"Archdeacon! I should've come to greet you..."

A plump, bespectacled middle-aged man waddled excitedly up to Carmelie.

"Brother Marcon's thoughtfulness is enough. More importantly, did you get my message?"

"Ah... that, uh... the madman trying to handle demon spirits is coming here..."

"Wh-when did I say that!"

"Planning to handle demon spirits isn't sane to begin with, is it? Was I wrong?"

Phraenn, watching quietly, smiled and extended a hand.

"A kindred spirit. Where you from?"

"Who are you? ...Ah! The mage who held the Sanctified rank?"

"Yes, that's me."

"Perfect timing. I had something to ask an expert mage."

"Hm? Ask away. I'm quite free now."

Carmelie spoke to Marcon.

"The relic meant for Snowman, right?"

"Yes, no progress at all. Can't even pry it open... maybe a Sanctified one can find a clue."

"Hm... not a bad idea. Everyone, come in."

The group followed Carmelie and Marcon's lead.

A grand marble temple, priests holding mass, servants maintaining it.

An enormous scale for a mere branch of Baranoa.

"Impressive size."

"The Timbrian branch is practically the diocese's heart... embarrassing. This way."

The relic vault.

After guards, locks, and barriers, they finally entered the room.

Vrrr...

Marcon retrieved something from a vault marked with strange numbers only they could read.

"This is it."

"Hm... no idea?"

"At first glance? You sure you looked properly?"

"Not much to relics? If I don't know at first sight, I won't till the end. Let me examine closely."

And after about a minute.

"No idea?"

"Didn't you say you'd inspect properly..."

"No, really. There's a unfamiliar aura dormant, different from typical relics?"

"Hmm... if even a Sanctified says so... no clue."

Kang Seol stepped forward.

"Let me take a look."

"...Brother?"

Kang Seol took the orb from the dubious Marcon.

A white sphere, size of a piglet.

With his knowledge, a relic like this should be...

"Hm... no idea."

But then.

Vrrr...

Whoosh-!

Suddenly, Karuna and Karen were summoned simultaneously.

Not by Kang Seol's will—they emerged on their own.

"Wh... what..."

"Snowman?"

Kang Seol raised a hand to signal safety, then checked his summons.

Karen slowly brought her face close to the round orb.

"Master, this... I think I know what it is."