Chapter 38
Chapter 38
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 38
Chapter Title: Ancient Ruins Arben (3)
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After the transparent barrier enveloped Linie and Edella.
An awkward air lingered around Sion and Cloe, now left alone together.
"Um... Miss Rion?"
"Wa-wait a moment... Let me prepare myself mentally..."
There was no particular reason.
They hadn't fought, and there wasn't any cause for awkwardness.
It was simply that Sion, not yet ready to reveal her secret, kept hesitating to proceed to the next room.
'I didn't expect this...'
From the start, Sion had never planned to grow this close to Cloe.
Cloe's true identity was the boss monster from the original story.
She would clearly become a massive headache as a boss—practically the natural predator of all mages—so Sion had merely aimed to prevent that.
Not out of pity for Cloe, but a selfish choice to protect Sion's own precious peace.
Their relationship was exactly that: one where they offered each other just the right amount of help.
Thanks.
Yet as they traveled together, Sion began to feel inexplicable emotions toward Cloe.
Cloe grew ever more precious inside her, to the point where hearing of her peril stirred long-forgotten rage.
Even Cloe, who always put her own safety first, came to trust Sion enough to stake her life on it.
Their nominal master-disciple bond evolved into a genuine one.
And as their closeness deepened, so did Sion's guilt.
The guilt of hiding that she was the Grand Archmage Sion.
She desperately wanted to confess her identity before the guilt swelled further, but her lips wouldn't part easily.
[What kind of person is Miss Sion?]
The infamy tied to the name Sion on the continent was so widespread that even kids in remote villages knew it.
Even Cloe, raised in the slums, would know the basics.
Yet she'd never uttered a negative word about it—likely because Sion wore the mask of her disciple.
But what if she revealed the truth?
Wouldn't Cloe feel betrayed after all this time hiding it?
Wouldn't she abandon her upon learning a true name steeped in notoriety?
Most of that infamy was far from reality, but would Cloe believe it?
Wouldn't she try to leave?
Cloe departing her side.
Not even a confirmed future, yet just imagining it ached her heart.
She couldn't even fathom why it hurt.
Wasn't she the one who'd always deemed bonds with others worthless?
And now, what was this belated sentiment?
Had she not held back her true feelings, it might have been bearable—but retreating to solitude now brought a profound sense of loss.
"..on.."
Maybe just flee instead?
Actually, perhaps stall until they naturally exited the dungeon without fulfilling the conditions?
"..on-nim."
No secret lasts forever, but wasn't it better than shattering now?
Or develop a memory-erasing spell—
"Miss Sion!"
"Ah, yes? Yes?!"
"It's fine. No matter the secret, I don't mind."
Cloe, declaring she could accept whatever secret Sion hid.
Her gaze held not a flicker of doubt, yet confessing remained terrifying.
..No, wait.
"Just now... what did you call m..."
Didn't Cloe just address her as Sion?
"I-I know."
"..Pardon?"
She didn't blurt out the idiotic "know what?"
In this context, "I know" could only mean one thing.
"Wh-what do you... mean by that.."
"The name Rion... it isn't your real name, is it?"
What intrigued her more was when Cloe had caught on.
She hadn't conversed with Sion's hero-era self, nor possessed Linie's mage-sight.
How on earth?
"Even if you deceived me, Miss Sion, I wouldn't mind."
"Wh-when..?"
"Actually... it hasn't been long. I suspected earlier, but I was certain at the imperial palace."
Vaguely, she had known Rion was no ordinary person.
Vast mana, exceptional skill, and a personality lazily at odds with it all.
A being who'd attained an unbelievable mastery at such youth.
Before learning magic formally, she'd simply admired her greatness—but once trained, the absurdity hit home.
[Mi-Miss Sion?! I, I'm not sure either...]
[About Rion's master? Hmm... Better hear it from Rion herself.]
[I don't recommend trusting your master deeply.]
From those reactions, assuming Rion was the Grand Archmage Sion made perfect sense.
Her slum-sharpened instincts pierced Rion's flimsy disguise easily enough.
Still, Cloe chose silence.
If she wouldn't share, there must be good cause.
Then, at least grow strong enough for her to confide her identity.
With that resolve, Cloe threw herself into relentless practice, mastering most of the enhancement spells Sion taught.
"Cl-Cloe... I... um..."
"Yes, speak."
"I n-never meant to deceive you... I mean... this is... an explanation..."
She knew Sion had no intent to deceive.
Sion's lies were transparently obvious.
Sion preferred lounging over fibbing.
Sion wore every emotion—joy, sorrow, boredom, thrill—plain on her face.
"I trust you. There's a reason for hiding that name."
"Cloe..."
"I waited for you to tell me yourself, but I never foresaw this."
Someday, if she could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Miss Sion, perhaps the reason would come to light.
That single hazy hope had forged Cloe this far.
"My secret is... I knew your true identity all along, Miss Sion."
Cloe's greatest secret was Rion's real self.
"That's..."
Before long, the semi-transparent barrier encircling them vanished.
They had cleared the final of the four rooms: the Room of Trust.
Now, only the final trial remained.
Before the shock of Cloe knowing her identity fully faded.
Passing the final room triggered the dungeon's ultimate trial.
"Cl-Cloe! Wait... there's more to say..."
Trials scattered the party.
Cloe vanishing right before her was proof the trial had begun.
Those eyes yearning for a direct explanation seemed serene at first glance, yet faintly sad.
Cloe believed Sion didn't trust her.
"That's not true..."
Not trusting her wasn't entirely off-base.
But the reason differed vastly from Cloe's assumption.
To dispel the misunderstanding, she had to clear the trial first.
"..I'll rush through and talk it out properly."
The Arben underground dungeon's final trial conjured an illusion of one's deepest fear.
For death-fearers, a pre-death vision.
For those dreading poverty, a penniless self.
Passing meant recognizing the falsehood and breaking free.
"Wait for me, Cloe..."
She yearned to soothe Cloe's wounded heart, even a day sooner.
For that, conquer this trial swiftly...
"Eh? Miss Sion... This is your real face?! Kyaa, so cute!"
..Olivia?
"What, Sion—you're a girl?"
Karl?
"..That's Sion?"
Veil?
"..Ugh... disgusting..."
Linie?
"To think you'd hide a face like that under the mask..."
"Ja-jackpot! I was sure it'd be some grandpa!"
"...Oh."
No, wait—why is everyone...
"D-don't look...!"
Sion's trial: her identity exposed to the Demon King Subjugation Party.
"Where's this?"
Right after soul-contracting with Edella, thick fog swallowed everything instantly.
Opening her eyes, Linie found Edella gone—herself alone.
'This the trial?'
Just before the Room of Trust, Sion had briefed the group on the trials.
'It shows an illusion of the participant's greatest fear, right?'
A hyper-realistic mirage; fail to see through it, and no passing.
'So mine's probably...'
"..Miss Linie! Big trouble!"
"Haa..."
Linie's illusion unfolded predictably.
The sweat-soaked elf dashing her way screamed the scenario.
"The elders seek you now. Hurry inside..."
"No."
Illusions were mere mental manipulation spells, after all.
Linie's mental barriers laughed at such trifles.
'Everyone should see through it.'
Grand Archmage Sion, obviously. Half-demon kid too.
Edella might struggle, but as a capable mage, she'd manage.
"Hey, just scram."
To the irksome apparition souring her mood, Linie thrust out her right hand.
"Don't piss me off."
Middle finger raised—the gesture Veil once taught her.
