Chapter 30
Chapter 30
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 30
Chapter Title: Wind of the West
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Similar, but different. That was the conclusion I drew upon seeing the path of wind spread out before my eyes.
'Not Golden Wind School magic... but it feels similar.'
The eyes that gaze upon mysteries. Arcana reverse-engineers the structure of the magic. The time it took to grasp the mysteries and laws composing the spell was but a fleeting moment. Over long ages, eyes and wind had melted into one. Everything but nature was excluded.
The winter wind that chilled to the bone was revealing the mage's clock.
'Perhaps.'
Not certain, but the roots were the same. From one school, branches had split off—one becoming the modern Golden Wind School, another embracing winter to form this wind. That was the best conclusion I could reach right now.
"Let's go, Durel."
"Pardon? You said it's not your master's magic. Isn't it dangerous?"
"It's not dangerous. If anything..."
The path had formed in response to specific magic. This was a kind of invitation.
"It should be safe."
At my confident tone, Durel nodded. And so, right after the two of us climbed back onto the sled, the snow golem slowly stepped toward the wind passage.
At the same moment, the surrounding scenery began to change. Transparent ice started rising across the vast snowy plain. The glittering ice reflected the faint light of dawn, illuminating everything around us in brilliant splendor.
"What in the world is this place..."
The sound of crumbling snow scattered like a dream. As the fierce wind forming the massive passage gradually died down...
Durel and I had arrived before a colossal castle made of ice.
"A-a castle..."
"Yeah..."
Indeed. What lay before us was a gigantic fortress of ice. The transparent, sparkling ice citadel amid the howling gale looked like a painting come to life. As I stared at it in a daze, part of the ice pillars encircling the outer walls broke away.
Crack...
"Could it be... inviting us inside?"
"Probably. It invited us this far."
Leaving Durel behind with his furrowed brow and uneasy expression, I strode forward.
'Not naturally formed ice... magic... this snow, this ground. Everything here is all...'
Everything constituting this world was magic. The vista unfolding through Arcana was so dazzling it hurt the eyes. I worried I might die overwhelmed by the swirling mana. This place was a world utterly apart.
'A space severed from reality... yet undeniably existing within it...'
Who could the master of this place be, to wield such profound magic? It was a realm far beyond my current ability even to imitate.
The moment Durel and I stepped inside the ice citadel, we were met with an empty space. No furnishings to be expected in such a familiar setting. It felt alien, mysterious, and ominous.
Void.
"Something's... off about this place. There's nothing that should obviously be here. No pillars, no carpets, not even stairs or decorations."
The instant Durel finished speaking, footsteps echoed suddenly from the pitch-black darkness.
Step...
Infinitely light and soft. Like bare feet padding across ice.
"It's been ages since I had visitors."
As the distance closed, the footsteps grew louder. The figure emerging from the darkness was a woman with snow-white hair and skin as pale as fresh-fallen snow.
The moment I saw her, I knew. This massive citadel itself was her. The mistress of this world had revealed herself, her gaze holding no hint of hostility—only goodwill.
"Are you the Wind of the West?"
"I've been called that, among other names. But..."
Step...
As the woman drew near, the air seemed to grow colder. No—it actually did. White frost settled over my clothes. My breath fogged, and shivers ran through me.
Gentle Wind formed the bare minimum barrier to protect my body. Sensing the threat, a warm breeze naturally enveloped me.
"Your eyes are peculiar. What are you seeing?"
I was about to say I was seeing the transparent, glittering, beautiful yet hollow world—when a frigid wind swirled around her, and the vista I beheld vanished.
Arcana's sight was blocked. A first since embedding starlight in my eyes.
Did it displease her? Steadying my breath, I extinguished the starlight in my eyes. Only then did she disperse the wind she had gathered.
"I'm Lumia. Raymond... my master said to seek you out. That you'd look after me in his stead..."
"Raymond? So that's the name he used out there."
"Does your master have another true name?"
The woman ignored my question. She circled slowly around Durel and me as she walked.
"Strange. You've learned that child's magic, yet you've forged your own system. Not one to cling... you parted ways quickly?"
"That's..."
"And this one's peculiar too."
The moment her gaze fell on Durel, the boy—who had been breathing raggedly—suddenly collapsed. There was no mana movement. She hadn't used any strange trick; the sheer pressure had knocked Durel out alone.
"Weak-willed... talent's middling at best... No idea why the collar. Feels oddly familiar—some academy bloodline?"
Her questions were near-mutterings. She didn't wait for answers. She posed them to herself and nodded in satisfaction. Far from ordinary, bordering on madness. Yet her eyes still brimmed with goodwill.
"Right, Lumia was it?"
"Y-yes..."
"He told you to come find me. Anything else he said?"
"Uh, well..."
In response to her question, I hurriedly rummaged through my bag. What I pulled out was a neatly folded letter. The one Raymond had left me before vanishing.
The moment I held it out, a cold gust snatched it from my hand.
"Hmm... this is troubling."
"Troubling...? What do you mean...?"
"Not for me. For your master. A nuisance has tagged along."
"A nuisance...?"
"This'll take some explaining. Follow me."
With that, the woman turned and walked away.
I ordered the golem to carry Durel and followed her.
The place we arrived at following the woman was an ordinary room. No biting winds, no frigid ice. Just a bed, a few chairs, and a table—furniture common in any home, filling the empty space.
"Why so surprised? Expecting an ice bed or something?"
Honestly, yes. A person whose world was a biting winter couldn't be viewed through ordinary lenses.
"Sit."
"Yes..."
"So, where to begin? You're clueless, which makes it harder."
Tap tap...
She sat in a chair, drumming her fingers on the table a few times. As if struck by a thought, she chuckled softly and spoke.
"Come to think of it, I never introduced myself. Einar Silvas. Feel free to call me Einar."
With that brief introduction, Einar began explaining the origins of the Golden Wind School.
"The Golden Wind you joined isn't your typical magic school. It split off from one called Twilight's Breath..."
According to Einar, Twilight's Breath was a solitary lineage passed down through the ages. Heat, cold, and wind—three utterly disparate attributes handled in one. Few could even enter such a school.
Without heaven-sent talent, entry was impossible. Thus, successive school heads faced a common plight.
Finding an heir. As hard as grasping a star from the sky, the lineage had nearly died out at times.
So the head of that era devised a solution.
Over long years, he shattered the old magic system and rebuilt it around the three elements. That was what he passed on before death.
Golden Wind.
Frost Breath.
Blazing Saturation.
Golden Wind to Raymond, Frost Breath to the woman before me—Einar—and Blazing Saturation to one other.
'That's why it felt familiar...'
Finishing her tale, Einar unfolded the letter and shook it lightly.
"'North's Hot Wind,' huh. Typical of him, loving those pointless flourishes."
"North's Hot Wind is...?"
"His half-brother. Greedy bastard. From the letter, seems he's finally coveting the Golden Wind grimoire and Erkamon. That's why he sent you here."
"..."
At Einar's words, I gripped the strap of my backpack tightly. Watching me intently, Einar gave a light laugh.
"Unnecessary worry. I don't covet talents beyond my own. Force it in foolishly, and your gut bursts."
With that, Einar rose from her seat. As she moved, a frigid wind swept through the room.
"Stay as long as you like. If you need anything, whisper to the wind."
"Master... will Master be okay?"
"Of course."
With those final words, Einar's form dissolved into the cold wind and vanished. I regretted it deeply in that moment. If I'd used Arcana, I might have seen how she wielded her magic.
As I sighed in belated remorse, Durel—lying on the floor—jolted awake with a gasp.
"Gasp...!"
'This guy... was he faking it...?'