I Never Left From the Start (2)
Claudy Mansion. The vast interior gradually filled with guests. I wondered how many would show up, but it exceeded expectations—both in numbers and caliber.
“It’s been a while since we last met face-to-face.”
“Has it?”
“You’ve certainly matured since then, Agentress.”
Polymorph. Kud Hanas couldn’t enter the mansion in his massive Earth Dragon form. Instead, he conversed with the elf leader, Agentress, in his horned dragonkin guise.
A dragon and an elf in discourse. The aura emanating from these extraordinary beings would make most people shrink back.
“A Claudy banquet indeed, my dear. What a spectacle even before it begins. Don’t you agree, you fierce red-eyed fellow over there?”
“Indeed. If only you stayed in your place.”
“My place?”
“How about climbing onto the table right now?”
“Haha, such barbaric jests again.”
They exchanged words with relative composure. Then came the appointed hour. Claudy territory wasn’t easy to reach, yet Grandfell’s ironclad schedule allowed no exceptions.
Ding—the bell rang, drawing all eyes. A few startled guests whispered to each other.
“A bell ringing on its own in midair? Must be a magic tool, right?”
No, not a magic tool. It was the spirits I’d hired... precisely, the ones High El had hired. Claudy Mansion brimmed with them. A proper estate needs servants, after all. But where to find manpower in the ravaged Arcana Continent?
Thanks, High El.
The unique spirit High El. And thanks to the World Tree’s blessing, High El had transcended the spirit hierarchy. I didn’t know much about spirit ranks, but High El had kindly explained with an analogy.
—“In human terms, it’s akin to a grand duke.”
A grand duke in the spirit realm—right below a spirit king, perhaps? Quite the promotion, High El. Or maybe even better than a spirit king.
Spirit kings can only command spirits of their own attribute.
But as a unique spirit, High El could command all attributes—as evidenced before my eyes. My vision, untainted by the cynicism of later years, captured their pure forms clearly. Not a flower garden on their heads... no, just innocent spirits.
Ding-ding—the lower wind spirit sylph shook the bell. Whoosh—the mid-tier fire spirit ifrit lit the candelabras. Spirits of every attribute bustled about, preparing the banquet.
“...Are they all magic tools?”
Only the chosen could perceive spirits in their natural state. To most, it’d look like the bell rang and flames ignited on their own. But that wasn’t the point.
I opened my mouth.
“To you who have answered Claudy’s summons, I convey this.”
My mouth went dry as I spoke. No wonder—now I had to move my lips as the head of the Claudy family, Grandfell Claudi Arpeus Romeo.
Well, we’ve come this far, Hoyeol. No choice now.
...Damn it. I clenched my fists and spoke.
“I, Grandfell Claudi Arpeus Romeo, welcome you.”
Thank goodness this wasn’t reality with eyes on me. Steady nerves, or perhaps shameless thick skin? Either way, I met the barrage of gazes without flinching.
The first to speak was the shiny-faced man.
“Diamond Merchant Guild Leader, Gamond Phil. I offer boundless congratulations on Claudy’s return! Words alone won’t convey my sincerity, so I’ve prepared a gift...”
Gamond stepped forward. His merchant vibe was obvious from his slick appearance and expressive face. I caught on quick.
“A modest token, in hopes it aids you!”
So that’s what the heavily laden carriages were for. Who turns down gifts? Not me, Lee Hoyeol.
Like a housewarming present, right?
Diamond Merchant Guild? Sounds filthy rich. And receiving a Claudy invitation proved it. To Gamond, such gifts might be mere tissue paper.
Just close your eyes and accept. Win-win.
But who is Grandfell? A principled stickler separating public from private. My mouth ran wild, as feared.
“Is this truly a gift of goodwill?”
“Yes, of course...”
“Or a bribe laced with self-interest?”
Blunt as a hammer. A ripple of laughter followed. The amused observers of human drama were obvious. Dragon and elf traded impressions.
“A wise answer is needed here.”
“Insolence. I’d have struck him down.”
“Warning first? You’ve mellowed, Agentress.”
No such thing as selfless goodwill. Gamond surely had a merchant’s ledger in mind. But against whom? No calculator could price pride-driven words.
Not even I can predict them.
Yet as the recipient, he responded smoothly.
“Purely a gift, of course! See the items, and you’ll understand. All chosen to aid territory reconstruction. Haha.”
As if no ledger ever existed. His bright smile made my suspicion feel unfounded—almost guilty.
Misunderstanding cleared, I replied graciously.
“Understood.”
Should’ve stopped there. But as I said—no slacking from this mouth. I shifted my gaze. This wasn’t just for Gamond.
“However, you all seem to labor under a misconception.”
“...?”
Questioning faces arose. Only one unmoved: Kud Hanas, the dragon. He’d heard it first, after all.
“Claudi has not returned.”
What grand ‘return’? By Grandfell’s measure, Claudy never left Arcana Continent.
The red-eyed man—Shahin Dune—bowed deeply and formally.
“Head of Claudy. Leader of the Dune tribe, Shahin Dune, dares to ask...”
Dune tribe. Polite despite his rugged look—passing on decorum.
I nodded; he continued.
“I dare not doubt the great Claudy. Merely curious. Not returned means you never left... so where have you been and what doing?”
Where and what? Claudi aside, even the Lee family was crumbling.
Arcana’s chapter closed semi-forcibly; real life kept me busy. But Grandfell’s rhetoric wouldn’t spill that plainly.
So I answered boldly.
“I watched over Arcana Continent from an entirely different world.”
...Technically true. Even after quitting Arcana, I’d heard major news through the grapevine.
But Shahin and others struggled to grasp it.
“An entirely different world...”
“A new continent beyond Arcana?”
“Heh.”
Alone, convincing them would’ve been tough. But here was an eyewitness who’d screamed across that world.
Kud Hanas stopped laughing.
“An entirely different world—even we dragons strain to reach it. More kindly: the homeland of all adventurers.”
Murmurs spread.
“Adventurers with resurrection powers?”
“Their homeland...”
“A world dragons struggle to access. Why enter such a harsh place?”
Because I was an adventurer! Reality was Lee Hoyeol’s true home. I wanted to say it straight, but that’d undermine Grandfell—and force explaining myself.
‘Lee’ for joy at my birth as the fourth rich kid...
Grandpa named me in delight. Explaining that here? Backstory would follow.
‘Who’s Grandfell? Who’s Lee Hoyeol?’
Then no excuses left. My dark history exposed...!
Fortune smiled.
“Claudi acted, as expected?”
“...No way?”
“Indeed, humans. Claudy guarded crumbling Arcana and the adventurers’ world. From before even I or kin noticed—until now.”
Kud Hanas’s overly generous addition spared my embarrassment. A dragon’s assertion made the unbelievable credible.
“Naturally beyond my ken.”
Shahin bowed. Relief washed over me. Then, as host, duty recalled.
Still, follow banquet procedure.
I scanned the room. Spirits had filled glasses; raising mine would launch the feast proper.
Detailed tales can wait.
Clink—I lifted my glass; spirits bustled to fill others.
Only Kud Hanas and Agentress saw them. They nodded thanks lightly.
“Grateful, little one.”
“Thank you.”
“...”
“Th-thank you...?”
Dragon and elf thanking thin air? Others chimed in awkwardly. Giggling spirits tickled my ears.
Yeah, I wanna laugh too.
...Totally killing the vibe.
The filled glasses held neither red wine nor clear water. By now, some guessed: green liquid in ornate cups.
Green tea. In Claudy territory, Claudy is law... but premium powder, rocket-delivered to priceless crystal? Overkill!
Incorruptible virtue and noble dignity—irreconcilable contradictions, embodied only by me across reality and Arcana. Truly...
...
The banquet’s mood wasn’t bad.
“Haha, onto the plate now?”
“Pigs belong there, no?”
“Then Dune tribe sleeps in the stables tonight? Haha.”
...Mind games among bigshots persisted. But in Claudy territory, my word was absolute. Even tipsy, it’d stay childish banter.
More importantly:
Impressive folks indeed.
Chatting revealed why they’d stayed hidden amid Arcana’s ruin. Like the Mage Tower’s constraints:
Too strong—bound by lore.
How enforced? Unknown. But Claudy’s summons trumped it. Shoulders swelled a bit.
I said eye for eye, tooth for tooth.
Omen or Raymon Sean—my dark history wouldn’t go easy. Brace yourselves. Inner vow, unspeakable aloud.
“Sorry I’m late.”
Thud. A ragged elder appeared midair. I didn’t flinch—Grandfell’s dignity forbade it, and that was portal mana.
Knows Claudy territory’s exact coordinates.
Not an intruder. But meeting the elder’s gaze upward...
I startled.
He said:
“My. I received an invitation from Claudy’s youngest head, Sir Grandfell...”
Eyes locked on mine, unwavering, he asked:
“...Who might you be?”