047. "It's the Same... No, Different..."
"It's the same. No, is it different..." Blamia murmured with a hum as he scrutinized Kalen's back. The pattern etched there like a painting bore a striking resemblance to Sinat's. It was proof of her contract with the spirit she called Karyong. Not identical to the mark on her wrist, but with hazy eyes, one could scarcely tell the difference. The real issue was that it was a unique pattern—one with no business appearing on Kalen, who wasn't suited for Contract Attribute magic and had no contracted spirit at all.
The cause boiled down to one thing. When Sinat's spirit had crawled up Kalen's back, it must have done something profoundly suspicious—enough to summon his mental image. For now, that was the most reasonable assumption. If it had been exactly the same, he might have understood; it would be no different from a trace left by Sinat's contracted spirit, imprinting an identical mark. But this pattern, similar yet subtly altered, stretched the claim of perfect sameness too far.
It had all started as an attempt to get more details on the plea to save Sinat, but the inexplicable events just kept piling up. The pain lingering on his back remained unchanged. As for the ache from his heart—had he grown a little accustomed to it by now? Even that pain, which he'd nearly adapted to, felt like it was flaring up again.
"Won't it come off?"
"No. It's just like a contract mark."
A contract mark referred to the pattern on Sinat's wrist, the kind borne by Contract Attribute mages. Etched by mana, it couldn't be erased. It vanished only if the contract was broken or one party died. That was why it made no sense for such a mark to appear on Kalen's back—his arm wasn't even involved, and he had no spirit contract.
From basic scrubbing in the bath to every spell Blamia could try—they'd exhausted every method, but not a single stroke of the pattern on his back had faded.
"That spirit of hers is still like that?"
"Yeah..."
Even summoning Sinat's spirit yielded the same result. No—if anything, it was worse now. Before, it had at least pretended to guard its hidden secrets, but now it just sulked like it had nothing to say for itself.
"Haa..."
His body felt like some damned canvas. Kalen shone the mirror on his battered form. The scars concentrated on his right side were hideous enough on their own, but add the blackened heart, the solid lines, and now this pattern visible in the reflection... He looked more battle-worn than a veteran of decades on the battlefield.
With his throbbing head, he'd barely grasped this clue. When he'd demanded to know the danger threatening Sinat, the spirit had answered with this mark. At the very least, they were connected somehow. Otherwise, it wouldn't be moping like that.
Kalen turned his gaze to the girl nagging her own spirit. The boy knew how to view his own heart objectively. Ever since his return, Sinat's aura had shifted in a way neither he nor Blamia would notice—unless they were looking for it. This stifling frustration had begun then, born of fear for the unknown. He wanted no part of seeing pain stain that girl's face—not even over his dead body.
The commotion that had plagued their hearts for so long finally quieted. With no real progress to show for it, time simply marched on, returning things to their prior state. The three had no choice but to ignore the uncomfortable thorn lodged in their chests.
With Rakatus and Hiatt's active support, the Dranus family was on the verge of rising again. Efforts to break through the 3rd Hierarchy only intensified. Truth be told, there was no need to rush this much. But the giant called Blamia had no desire to repeat his past mistakes.
From the moment he'd left the family estate with his granddaughter in tow, the Dranus name had lingered as a regret—not a lingering hope. Yet Blamia had seized Rakatus's proposal, clinging to that regret for one reason alone: his granddaughter, Sinat.
If he had to call it a wish, it was for what would come to Sinat—not the family itself. Reviving Dranus wouldn't bring back her dead parents and brother. To Sinat, Dranus meant a home with family. Repaying his grandfatherly sin of arbitrarily taking that away—this was the scale of his haste.
Sinat wanted to inherit the family too, so there was even less reason to hold back. A reverse scale, a lingering regret. Dranus had embedded itself in Blamia in that peculiar form for all those reasons. Without Sinat, he likely never would have entertained the paradoxical idea of reviving a family filled with guilt and remorse.
They'd lived contentedly in that cabin all these years, yet when Rakatus made his offer, refusal proved impossible. He'd always planned to debut her in high society someday, but inheriting the family headship was a decision made then. A future that should have been happy. A grandfather's atonement for snatching it from his granddaughter.
"Haa... haa..."
Most of her frame was still delicate and frail. It was obvious she was pushing too hard, yet he couldn't properly rein her in—for the same reason. He'd dumped his selfish desires on Citram, his grandson and her brother. Having robbed Sinat of her happy future, he couldn't hypocritically tell her to take it slow now.
Of course, Blamia knew Sinat would never say such things to him. But if it were an easily erased nightmare, it wouldn't have haunted him so long as to lower his hierarchy. The irony that his efforts to avoid repeating the past were repeating it anyway struck painfully at his heart.
Blamia turned his eyes to another nightmare. The kid staring from afar, no doubt his head stuffed with massive worries. He was surely agonizing over the danger foretold for Sinat. Truthfully, such debts of gratitude could be repaid carelessly. Last check, he'd somehow awakened 3rd Hierarchy Combat Attribute magic—unimaginable as it was. He could leave now and thrive.
Yet the brat kept sacrificing himself to help. It had saved his granddaughter's life more than once, but it only made the nightmares recur. Every new scar on that kid's body made Blamia feel like it was his fault for picking him up. If Dranus revived and Sinat claimed the happy future that was hers... would this diseased heart heal?
"...Let's start over, kid."
Blamia closed his eyes, hoping only that Sinat would return home safely.
"Scream if anything happens."
"Yeah, night, Kal!"
"You too."
Clunk—the wooden door shut with a satisfying click. The girl collapsed onto the bed, a smile on her lips.
"'You too' what..."
Something like "sweet dreams" would have been nice. Even just mirroring "good night" would've sufficed.
"..."
But as she rolled about, she realized the boy had never been one for "good night" pleasantries. No—actually, this was better. She didn't know what danger her spirit Karyong had warned of, but because of it, Kal was worrying about her more and more.
"Hee~."
Her body felt heavy, like hundreds of stones piled on it. Her head throbbed as if it might burst. But that one fact alone let her endure.
What of the comfort gained by admitting exhaustion? His sweat-soaked embrace, his anxious gaze saying it didn't matter a bit—it was intoxicating. Addictive, even.
Burying her face in the pillow as she dazedly recalled his expression, the girl suddenly bolted upright, rummaging through a small drawer. She reached deep into the far back. Out came a fairly thick notebook.
Flopping onto the bed stomach-first, she flipped to the end and began scribbling. Lost in focus, her earlier smile vanished as if it had been a lie. Her nails, bitten short enough to expose skin, stung with every stroke, but to her, organizing her thoughts in the notebook mattered far more.
When her arm started going numb from the position, she rolled over, lay back, and held the notebook aloft.
"..."
Once in the air. Then, drawing back her outstretched arm, she covered her mouth with it.
"Hee."
Her expression was hidden by the notebook, but its thick first page bore the word [Kalen].
"I get it."
That was Kalen's first words after borrowing Sinat's mirror and staring at his back for ages. His neck ached fiercely, but the time had been well worth it.
He'd realized the pattern on his back resembled the one at the entrance to the Hiatt Mountain cave. Slightly different from Sinat's, but exactly like the cave's. The situation had been so urgent that it was seared into his memory—no room for error.
Sure, nitpicking might reveal minor differences, but Kalen shook his head. How could he forget what he'd memorized to ensure he wouldn't? The contract mark on his back was undoubtedly the same.
That realization opened a path where none had seemed to exist. The cave entrance pattern, the seal slumbering within. He'd considered another lord spirit back then—could this be vaguely connected?
'Is it related to me killing that monster?'
A chill crept up his neck. Feeling it banished his fatigue. Aside from the spirit imprinting it, everything fit neatly.
Fortunately, nothing "dangerous" had befallen Sinat in the meantime. Kalen snatched up the mirror and left the room at once.
The prickling sensation before heading to Hiatt—he'd dismissed it as imagination then, but now it couldn't be unrelated. Rubbing the back of his neck, Kalen set off to find Sinat.