Chapter 31
Chapter 31
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Wind from the West
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Life in the ice fortress wasn't inconvenient at all. Whenever I needed something, I'd whisper it to the wind, and a few hours later, the items would be delivered right to my door. Einer never showed her face, but I could feel she was looking out for me.
My interest turning to the Frost Breath that Einer wielded was, in a way, only natural.
Mages are stubborn obsessives. Their discipline of magic shapes them that way. They build walls against the outside world, constructing their own unique laws within the framework of their school. The world they build like that gives them unshakable faith and imagination. And that defines a mage's realm.
They don't accept any other world.
But I was different. Unconventional. As a heterogeneous existence, I didn't follow the established magical systems. Even when taking in new magic, my inner world wouldn't crumble, so my free-thinking turned every lesson into a foundation for growth.
Golden Wind and Frost Breath.
They shared the same roots, originally. Over time, they split due to complicated circumstances. Since they started from the same point, there was no need to formally request teachings. Everything in this ice fortress was my textbook, my lesson, my inspiration.
I didn't even need the tedious, pedantic Erkamon. The vast memories from my past life fueled immense imagination. All I needed was a small trigger to recall them.
Within the grand library in my inner world, a book on the shelf opens, words etching themselves across its pages.
Prologue.
Frost Breath.
The moment an extremely concise Erkamon is inscribed.
"Master. What are you doing now?"
"Practicing magic."
A quick glance—
I turned my head and saw Durel sprawled on the floor, drenched in sweat. He'd been tussling with a golem under the guise of sword training and had apparently collapsed.
'It's almost ready.'
The magic lodged in his heart had faded to the point of near nonexistence. One day at most, two if it dragged on. The end of the long wait was approaching.
I woke from sleep, rubbing my groggy eyes as I opened the door. To check the meal delivered for today.
"You're awake."
"Einer...?"
Standing at the door wasn't the meal I'd expected, but Einer, who looked strangely urgent for some reason. Normally, she wouldn't show herself and would just leave the food there alone.
Something must have gone wrong.
"What happened?"
"It seems I'll have to step out for a bit... No, before that..."
Einer, about to explain, furrowed her brow.
"You...?"
Mages typically devote their lives to mastering a single magic. That makes them hypersensitive to traces of magic in the same lineage. From her reaction, she'd sensed the lingering traces of Frost Breath on me.
"Frost Breath...? No, not exactly the same... What in the world did you do?"
Not exactly the same. Of course not. I didn't need the standard Erkamon. Nor the inner world unique to her school. I'd based it on what I'd seen and felt from her magic, infusing my own interpretation. It was tailored perfectly to me. That was how my magic usually worked.
"I gave it a try, imitating it."
"What nonsense... I see now. That's why that child sent you to me."
She asked herself a question and answered it herself. This wasn't a conversation with a normal person. I wasn't even sure my voice reached her.
"But the timing couldn't be worse. I have to go out for a while. I'll be back within a week, so stay put. I'll reteach you what you've learned the wrong way."
"Where are you—"
Whoosh—!
Before I could finish, a freezing gale whipped up, and Einer vanished.
"Master. You're up early. What's on the menu for breakfast?"
Rustle.
Durel's question flew from the back of the room. His eyes were half-closed, like he'd just woken up.
"None today."
"Pardon...? What do you—"
"No food."
Was the news of no food that shocking? Durel's startled face emerged in a fluster as he dashed out the door, looking around wildly.
"No way...!"
A day had passed since Einer left the ice fortress. With our meal deliverer gone, we had no choice but to chew on the jerky we'd stockpiled.
"Master. Still no sign?"
"Wait a bit longer..."
I rubbed my forehead, frowning at Durel's urging. Now that the curse from Durel's family—the magic in his heart—had completely vanished, I was crafting an Erkamon for his Mana Circle.
Durel lacked my vast memories and the imagination they supported. So, he had to learn magic the conventional way mages did, not my method.
Of course, I could form a Mana Circle directly in his heart. But that had a huge flaw. A Mana Circle made that way wouldn't be his magic.
He wouldn't be able to control it. Mana Circles have vast potential for growth. It was better to lay the foundation so he could nurture the ring himself than implant uncontrollable magic in his heart.
'This isn't easy...'
Erkamon compensates for a mage's limited imagination with its mystical verses. The phrasing had to be intuitive, flowing seamlessly. This was magic for someone else, not me. It required delicate consideration.
"Durel. Focus your mana, wrap a band around your heart. Imagine a blue ring rotating infinitely."
"Y-Yes? But the inner world... how should it...!"
"Doesn't matter. You're not learning a specific lineage of magic, so it'll blend with any world. I made it that way."
"Ah..."
"This is the Erkamon for the Mana Circle. Memorize it."
"W-Wait a...!"
"The breath of nature has become my own breath, circulating along the ring of my heart. Thus, it forms an unending flow." "There is no beginning or end. The river of mana flows through me to the world, then back to me." "As long as my breath does not cease, the cycle of circulation continues infinitely."
⟨ Mana Circle ⟩
This kid who followed me around calling me "Master" over and over, only looking at me. He'd spent his life blaming himself for being a half-baked mage. I'd had to watch that pitiful sight up close.
Now, finally, he'd stepped into a real chance to learn. How shameful would it be if the one called his master couldn't teach him even a single proper spell?
Durel didn't write down the Erkamon I recited. He closed his eyes and sank to the floor. Sharp kid. He memorized it after one listen, right there.
I could see it. Natural mana slowly flowing into Durel's body. The ring was unstable, the rotation absurdly slow, but it was progressing steadily.
It took a considerable time, but eventually, Durel's unstable ring completed.
Thud—
When the ring traced a perfect circle, Durel rose to his feet.
"How does it feel?"
"This is..."
Flutter—
Durel looked back at his back in bewilderment. The cloak made from witch's thread fluttered endlessly. Just like when I first bought it for him.
"Mana... mana... So that's why you did that back then, Master...!"
His bewilderment turned to surprise, then to understanding. Durel hopped in place, spinning around to marvel at the fluttering cloak on his back.
"Different from using the Warden Stick, right?"
"It's... a mystical feeling that's hard to put into words."
As he spoke, Durel lightly raised his hand. At the same moment, a sword rose above his palm. An illusion made of mana. But atop it, a vivid presence overlaid.
'Oh...'
Arcana, sparkling like starlight, fully captured Durel's world. Years of suppressed illusion gained sharp colors. Durel's inner world was transforming in real time.
Swish—
The sword swung lightly, leaving an afterimage. From that afterimage, a new sword bloomed. A bizarre world where real and fake intertwined. Durel was forging his own unique magic.
The week Einer mentioned had passed, plus one more day. I waited in case she returned, but she didn't.
"Master. Our food supplies are almost gone."
"Mm..."
I checked the deflated jerky pouch and stood up. Raymond had said to seek the wind from the west. I waited, but he didn't come. Einer had said she'd be back within a week due to something outside. She hadn't returned either.
Something must have happened to both of them.
'Blazing saturation...'
"Durel."
"Yes."
"We need to leave this place."
"I'll pack our things."
Durel bowed his head and began gathering our belongings. There wasn't much to pack anyway. We'd arrived almost empty-handed. Organizing clothes and slinging bags finished the preparations.
In case our paths crossed, I didn't forget to leave a letter.
The words that you'd return in a week still linger in the cold wind.
The sun has set several more times.
My heart is too restless to keep waiting, so I'm setting out to find you, senior—Master.
If our paths cross and you find this letter first...
'What should I say...'
Please find me, Lumia.
'Is that fitting...?'