Chapter 171
Chapter 171
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 171
>Chapter Title: Spirits, Demons, and Wyverns
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Meanwhile, at the very moment Aster was trembling in unease.
An unnamed lake in Amera.
A lone old man sat by the sparsely visited lakeside, too small even for moonlight stones to be harvested, rod in hand.
Was he fishing for time itself? No bait was even attached. He simply gazed endlessly at the water's surface with his clear eyes.
Suddenly, a whirlwind arose right then.
Whooooosh—
The wind appeared without warning, fiercely sweeping through the surroundings. Yet for some reason, amidst the churning scenery, the old man remained utterly still and serene.
Even in the heart of the gale, the old man's white beard didn't flutter. And just like that, the whirlwind ceased.
Silence descended in an instant.
In the space filled only with stillness, the old man raised his head.
But something felt off.
The old man's eyes chased the empty air.
No, rather than chasing, their focus was fixed on one spot, as if seeing something.
As though beholding what others couldn't, his eyes were sharply locked on a single point in the void.
In truth, the old man—no, Mysern—could indeed see what others couldn't.
And what was it he saw?
Spirit.
The spirit summoner Mysern smiled faintly as he looked at his own spirit, Fury, hovering above the lake.
It was a warm, indulgent smile, like one watching a grandchild's antics. His mouth soon opened.
"Heh heh. Are you sulking because I made you go alone?"
At Mysern's question, Fury turned its head away with a huff, as if offended.
Mysern let out another "Heh heh," helpless in the face of Fury's demeanor, and pulled a small stone from his pocket to offer it.
"Here. Moonlight stone, your favorite. Will one of these soothe you a bit?"
But had it taken real offense?
Fury kept its head turned, saying nothing.
Still, its gaze flicked toward the moonlight stone now and then, unable to resist. Mysern chuckled deeply at the sight.
Usually, it would come bounding over for even a tiny piece, so it must have been truly upset this time.
"What can I do? For this old man, commanding the fairies' parade is too much. I'm not as young as I used to be."
Even as he grumbled, Fury kept its head turned.
Mysern felt the weight of years anew at the sight.
In his youth, it had been like a friend. Then like a little brother. Now, it felt just like a granddaughter.
That was the flow of time.
Unlike humans, whose bodies and minds aged with time, spirits were relatively free from its grasp.
They retained their innocence forever.
Fury's sulking was probably due to that very flow of time, too.
It knew.
That Mysern's time was running short.
Unlike itself, unchanging eternally, Mysern's time would soon reach its end.
Of course, Mysern was still hale and hearty, with plenty of time left—but to a spirit like Fury, even that felt fleeting.
To leave it behind alone in such circumstances was bound to hurt its feelings.
"Fury, I'm sorry. Huh? I'm sorry, really. What if I make it two moonlight stones?"
In the end, Mysern offered a second one, but Fury still seemed unappeased.
Only after the fourth stone and a speech-like apology did its anger finally subside.
"Heh heh."
Mysern smiled contentedly as he watched Fury absorb the moonlight stone's energy.
They said even watching a grandchild eat brought such joy—perhaps this was the heart of a grandfather with a granddaughter.
Anyway, once Fury had fully absorbed the energy.
Mysern could finally ask what he'd sent it to do.
"So, did you hear the children's voices well?"
Here, 'children' was what Mysern called the spirits collectively, excluding Fury.
At his question, Fury flailed its tiny arms cutely, mumbling something.
Its expression shifted by the moment, and Mysern's face changed in tandem as he listened.
How much time passed like that.
When Fury finished, Mysern crossed his arms and sank into thought for a moment.
He seemed to understand it all, but even for him, sorting out the spirit language transmitted via 'will' wasn't instantaneous.
Casual talk was simple enough, but this was a special case.
What Fury conveyed wasn't just its own words, but those of 'other spirits' as well.
How long did Mysern ponder?
Soon, his mouth opened.
First, Fury's report.
"So, those guys definitely aren't there, right?"
Fury nodded.
"You checked thoroughly? Last time, you missed them and nearly got us in big trouble."
Did it feel like interrogation? Fury puffed its cheeks again, sulking.
"Enough of that. Pouting won't get you more moonlight stones. So, it's certain they're gone. And no Decullans either?"
Fury shook its head vigorously, then transmitted its will.
Grasping it, Mysern chuckled and shook his head.
"That's not really 'there' then. Just quill-pushing bureaucrats. And, let's see... Hmm. Getting old, my memory's shot. What did the children say again?"
Truth be told, it wasn't age. It was just that Fury's relayed wills from other spirits were highly volatile.
Anyway, Mysern listened intently as Fury conveyed the other fairies' wills, then nodded.
True to spirits, it was rambling nonsense full of human-unlike tangents, but summed up, it was this.
'So...'
It wasn't much different from what Mysern had heard decades ago when he first came to Amera.
The 'children' were still pleading for help, still writhing in agony.
But one thing had changed since then.
The 'children' had told Fury this.
'Find... a person?'
Mysern's eyes twitched faintly at the spirits' voices relayed through Fury.
An unimaginably ancient time, even for him.
Spirits trapped somewhere in Amera, weeping in unison, were begging as one.
To find one person.
Only he... could save them.
* * *
'...Hoo.'
Mysern let out a soft sigh and ran a hand through his hair.
The shock held him briefly.
But soon after, he voiced his doubt.
The spirits had even described the 'person's' appearance to Fury, but the image in Mysern's mind made him furrow his brow.
'But... is this even a person?'
And rightly so—the impression they conveyed was hardly human.
"Fury, you heard it right? It's definitely a person?"
Fury nodded confidently.
Narrowing his eyes, Mysern pulled out parchment and pencil to sketch the mental image.
It didn't take long to transfer the description to drawing.
And when the sketch was complete at last.
Mysern showed it to Fury for confirmation.
"...This?"
But why?
Fury shook its head.
'As expected, no way...'
He'd just thought that when.
Fury snatched the pencil with telekinesis right then.
Swish, flick.
A crooked line slashed over the fairly decent drawing.
When Fury dropped the pencil, Mysern's eyes twitched.
'It got worse.'
The figure's features were thus.
First, gray hair. Features quite refined, like Mysern in his youth.
That alone seemed ordinary enough, but what made him doubt if it was human lay elsewhere.
The eyes.
'What the hell with the eyes...'
Where pupils should be, strange swirls churned. Pencil couldn't capture color fully, but per the spirits' relayed image... yes.
Crimson aura. Madness-like, perhaps.
Not only that, fangs protruded like a fairy tale devil's, and the smile looked utterly wicked.
And finally...
The sharp horns Fury had added.
"Hmm."
Mysern took in the parchment figure quietly.
Was this really human?
'...Looks just like a demon from legend.'
Had the 'children' pranked them?
He shook his head at the thought.
Spirits were too pure for lies. Nor were the 'children' in a position to joke.
Why would spirits crying for help lie like this!
So the drawing was truth.
'Hmm.'
After staring long at it, Mysern's eyes widened suddenly.
"Could it be?"
Sometimes, this happened.
People did it too, didn't they?
You think they're relaying exactly what they saw or heard, but personal feelings and impressions sneak into the words or descriptions.
If first impressions soured, they'd emphasize the ugly parts...
'...Especially spirits—they're sensitive like that.'
Pure as they were, spirits were far more sensitive than humans, seeing much more at a glance.
Heart, temperament... things humans learn through experience, they intuited instantly.
'But even so... this level is rare.'
How great a shock must the 'children' have felt?
"Hmm..."
Mysern pondered.
Whoever the boy in the description was, he was no ordinary soul.
Rightly so—the eyes the spirits depicted were windows to the soul, the horns above the head his usual mindset. The jagged fangs... meant he acted on his thoughts without restraint.
Such extreme exaggeration was rare, but that was the gist.
On the other hand, a thought occurred.
'...Am I really trying to save spirits?'
Or ancient sealed evils?
Otherwise, why pick such a figure as savior?
But the doubt passed quickly.
"Hmm, alright. Let's go."
At Fury's urging, Mysern reeled in his rod and gathered his things.
Whatever it was, he'd confirm with his own eyes.
"Right, Fury. Where's this boy?"
Fury replied.
"Hmm, Gigsen Lake."
Once the fairies' parade began, they migrated sporadically to different lakes. Gigsen Lake happened to be the next destination.
"Guess we'll have to hurry."
When the fairies' parade bloomed, the spirits' wails ringing in his ears made it hard for Mysern to stay composed. Not unbearable, but... with so many eager to exploit that moment.
The Decullans showed no special moves, but 'those guys' could be lurking anywhere unknown.
With that, Mysern stepped into the air.
In that instant.
Whooooosh—
A whirlwind enveloped and whirled around his body.
Mysern's form soared, slicing through the sky where dusk was beginning to settle.
Like a wyvern.