Reminiscing Old Times (3)
"What do you mean by 'nasty item'? Tell me more."
"Well, as you said, Hero, that's what turned you into a child."
"Yeah, that much I figured. I already knew that far. So?"
"It's a kind of extremely powerful ancient magic."
Ancient magic...? Ancient as in... how far back are we talking?
"By 'ancient,' we mean the time when the giants first emerged from the sea onto land."
"What...?! Magic from an era that ancient?!"
The moment the giants set foot on land was truly ancient history. Tens of thousands of years ago, with no records left—just vague legends passed down through the ages.
"Was Lurtjog a dragon that lived that long...? No, but dragons can't use magic, right?"
"Yes, that's correct. It wasn't a magic device made by Lurtjog."
"Huh? Then what?"
Ammugar lightly touched the surface of the orb with his finger.
"These characters are from a lost ancient civilization. Fortunately, I have a bit of knowledge and managed to decipher fragments of it."
As a legion commander in the Demon King's army, he'd probably encountered long-lived monsters or ancient civilization relics often enough. Anyway, what did it say?
"It's basically a user manual. Someone who made this orb wrote down how to use it."
"So, what's it say?"
"Not precisely, but... the orb has the effect of reverting living beings to a younger state. The activation condition is prolonged contact with the target's body."
That made sense. I'd fallen asleep holding it in my hand, triggering this so-called ancient magic.
Ammugar stared at the orb in my hand like it was something filthy.
"I don't know for sure, but given that pervert Lurtjog's tastes you mentioned, he probably kept kidnapped young dragons reverted like this... for 'recycling.'"
"Fuck..."
Orkcog growled low beside me.
"Yeah... hatchlings are pretty rare, after all..."
A wave of disgust hit me; I wanted to hurl the orb to the ground right then. But there was still more to learn.
"Anyway... keep going. How do I undo this curse? Magic? Whatever it is."
"That's..."
Ammugar trailed off, his expression darkening considerably. One look at his face, and I knew instinctively we were screwed.
"No way..."
"Yes... there doesn't seem to be a way to reverse it. He only needed the reverting magic in the first place..."
I shut my mouth. I had nothing to say.
Pelle, who'd been quietly listening, sidled up and gently placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Then... one thing I'm curious about. Is there... a creator's name or anything?"
"Ah, yes. One moment..."
Ammugar took the orb back from me and examined its surface meticulously. He turned it this way and that, then frowned at one spot and adjusted his glasses.
"Hmm... what does this mean... so... Mideronde Carnebrest... Dorthellien...?"
Ammugar read the characters in a pronunciation no one could understand.
"This 'Mideronde' seems to be the name... but the text after that, I have no idea what it means."
"Mideronde, huh... First time hearing it. Not surprising."
I took the orb back and shoved it into my pocket.
Still... it wasn't a total loss. At least I knew the cause of this shitty situation and the orb's origins. Someone must have made it for Lurtjog a very, very long time ago. And if Ammugar's guess was right, the creator's name was Mideronde.
But ancient magic... they were definitely not of this world anymore. The silver lining was that it was magic, not some unknown curse. All modern magic branched from ancient magic anyway. If it had been a curse, I'd have had to hunt down every hidden black mage or drag a high demon from hell by the hair.
The problem was, my current body couldn't handle that.
"Got it... Oh, and we're building your workshop next to the inn, so come in whenever the situation allows."
At my listless voice, Ammugar and Orkcog nodded dispiritedly in kind.
For now, my body was like this, but my mind was fine. I'd sort out inn business calmly and find a way. It wasn't getting any younger, at least—I'd figured that much out. It was stable or maybe even aging back up from here. Time was on my side.
And... I had an ace up my sleeve.
Back alone, I dragged a chair to the wall where the Holy Sword hung.
Stepping onto the chair, I grabbed the Holy Sword. Thankfully, it still recognized me as its master. It felt much heavier than usual, but I managed to lift it and step down.
"Bertrand! What dangerous thing are you doing?!"
Francois yelled at the sight, but I waved her off as fine and hurried up the stairs.
"Eek! Crazy brat! What are you gonna do with a sword bigger than yourself?!"
Atergar, who'd come out into the hall, plastered herself against the wall in shock. Terror bloomed on her face at the blade glowing brightly, sensing the dragon.
"Where you going?"
"To eat. Aunt still in the kitchen?"
"It's Francois, not aunt. And go get Pelle or Idi to bathe you. The Holy Sword keeps glowing because of you—it's annoying."
"What? Bathe? Hey, little dick. What kinda nonsense is that to a lady?! You saying I stink?!"
Still, Atergar leaned in suspiciously and sniffed.
"Nah, forget it. Talk later. Busy."
"Arrogant twerp... If not for the Holy Sword, I'd crush a worthless runt like you. Pathetic cripple idiot mouthy trash..."
I ignored Atergar and slammed my room door shut.
I propped the Holy Sword diagonally against the desk and knelt before it in prayer. Even early morning, the Goddess responded immediately.
"Goddess! Big trouble. As you know, I've turned into a kid. Please undo this bullshit magic quick."
The Goddess replied.
Her response left me so dumbfounded I let out a hollow laugh.
"What?! Is that what you call a reply? No! Undo it now! You can, right?!"
The Goddess replied with a coquettish nasal whine.
"You're really not gonna undo it?"
The Goddess ignored my question, said we'd talk later, and signed off.
What the hell? Cute and wriggly so fun to watch? Figure it out yourself? She'll cheer me on?
I knelt there blankly staring at the Holy Sword for a while.
Stunned by the Goddess's backstab, but work waited, so I came down alone.
The moment I entered the hall, I jolted and hid behind a table.
Captain Lambert was at the inn, talking to Idi.
Shit. Forgot about Lambert.
Back when I crawled out of Lurtjog's corpse, I'd run into him. He'd seen everything—Atergar's flame breath blocked by the Holy Sword's barrier.
He'd wanted a full explanation, but given the chaos, I'd put it off.
And now, of all times, he shows up like this.
"Where's the owner? I'd like a word."
"Uh... Bertrand...? He's... not here right now..."
Idi stammered, sweating bullets in panic.
Lambert sounded incredulous. "The innkeeper left the inn empty? Since when?"
"W-well... his personal life... how should a mere employee like me know..."
"Hmm..."
Lambert scanned the hall sharply. Then his eyes locked on me peeking over the table, and he pointed.
"What's that kid? Don't think I've seen him before."
Idi whipped her head around at his gesture, spotting me and stuttering in shock. "Uh...? Th-that kid is... um..."
She could've just said a guest's child, but too flustered to think of it.
If she spilled the truth, it'd just mean more headaches explaining to Lambert.
Right then, Pelle emerged from the ingredient storeroom, so I dashed to her.
"Sis!"
I hugged her leg. She looked down wide-eyed.
I nodded toward Lambert. She got it and awkwardly patted my head.
Pelle and I both had brown hair and eyes—we could pass for siblings. No horns on my head, but smart Pelle would cover.
As expected, Lambert tilted his head. "Sister...? No horns though..."
Pelle stroked my head coolly. "Young demons don't have horns at first. Unless they rip out of the womb."
"Ah... I see...?"
I rubbed my cheek on Pelle's sleek, firm thigh, glancing at Lambert.
Pelle pinched my cheek lightly while petting, acting the doting big sis perfectly.
Her gentle act convinced Lambert I was really her brother.
"Tell the owner I stopped by."
Once Lambert left and the door shut, Idi sighed like the earth had caved in.
"That was close... showing up out of nowhere scared me half to death... Why am I such an idiot... So hot..."
Idi wiped sweat from her chin with her sleeve and wandered off for a towel.
I peeled off Pelle's thigh and spoke. "Good thing he bought it. Nice cover, Pelle."
But Pelle said nothing. Looking up, puzzled, her eyes stared down at me strangely. They trembled intensely.