Spirits with a Healthy Fear of Mom
The spirits around here are awfully arrogant.
"Lume!! Check this out! Don't I have some muscles now??"
After hitting the gym and going toe-to-toe with those pink dumbbells, paying Ephemera back for the broken weight plates out of my own pocket... things were pretty depressing for a guy in every way possible. But I was convinced my muscles had bulked up a bit compared to before, so after showering, I struck a pose to show off to my dorm buddy.
"Flexing those throbbing veins in front of a vampire is no different from flirting."
"Eh, really?"
"If only my jaw strength was a little better..."
She wasn't just pretending to bite sometimes—she was seriously craving my blood. I figured she might grind her teeth like livestock or something, so I didn't pay it much mind, but being a vampire must be tough in all sorts of ways. My consideration earned me a glance from Lume like I was some lunatic, but she reached out as if to confirm my muscles anyway.
"Here! Feel 'em! They're bigger, right?!"
"They really have gotten a bit bigger."
".....Chest muscles?"
"No, her breasts."
Even Grand Duke saying that bummed me out, and my spirits drooped. My ridiculously huge chest was already a pain in the ass, and now it had grown even more in just a few months? From kneading them so they wouldn't clump up during showers? Or from Beatus squeezing them every chance she got? Or maybe from bumping into stuff everywhere I went? The club room was so cramped that I kept hitting Yamucha Aranemu's legs—could that have caused swelling?
"Poor young man..."
"Right...? Going from man to woman—what a ordeal."
"Don't say you're perceptive; it just pisses me off more."
I had no clue what Grand Duke meant by even breathing being hard, so I just said I'd go shower and headed back in.
"That prime-of-life hunk Yamucha is the pitiful one."
"Honestly, isn't it torture? She pressed her chest against him while spotting his bench press."
"Isn't that murder?"
"And he just laughed it off like it was fine."
"The pride of our first-year commoners."
"....You two, why are you chatting so happily? I feel left out."
"It's nothing~"
"We were talking about her boobs."
Wiyu trudged back inside with a sullen look, and Meru Lume and Change kept swapping stories about the pitiful young man for a good while.
"Urkgh."
"Someone wake her up."
Beatus shook Wiyu awake—she'd been drooling and dozing off before class even started. Kali grabbed her shoulders and spun her around to snap her out of it. The male students oohed and aahed at the rare sight of her breasts bouncing up and smacking her in the face. The professor who walked in sighed in relief at the now-alert girl.
"Wiyu, if you don't want to fail, you need to study hard."
"Yes, sir...."
"She does study hard, though."
"All she does is eat and study—that's the real tragedy."
"Agh."
I was the one who wanted to cry, so why was the professor who gave the failing grade looking even more heartbroken? Anyway, today's first lecture was World History.
The topic was the Spirit Realm Collapse Incident, a massive blow even to summoners and tamers. The professor explained that spirits, who mainly contracted with elves—the poster children for nature-loving races—are infamous for their arrogance.
"Born from nature itself, they have an inherently higher status, but since they lack the concept of death, they tend to ignore and refuse contracts with short-lived beings."
But ironically, this race with emotions and intelligence falls in love and even produces half-spirits. Most half-spirits are elves, and high elves or especially powerful spirit elves are usually from that side, the professor said, sketching on the board.
"You can enter the spirit realm through the World Tree, so elves and spirits practically coexist."
"So the spirit realm collapsing means the World Trees and elves got breached?"
"You could say they were beaten head-on."
Among long-lived races, elves live by far the longest, so swordmasters and 8th-circle wizards were a dime a dozen. It was a neighborhood where a dragon slayer living next door wouldn't raise eyebrows, so breaching it was basically apocalyptic.
"What do you think beat the spirit realm? Any guesses?"
"A plague? Like parasites that infect spiritual beings...."
"Those dimensional rifts that open occasionally? Leading to the Void Realm?"
"A pissed-off Dragon Lord?"
"Great Demon Witch God, right?"
Everyone tossed out plausible theories, but the professor shook his head— all wrong, unfortunately. Apparently, other classes got it right away, but ours had to play it safe with the glances.
──Naturally, all eyes turned to me.
"....Was it my mom?"
The demon professor, who regretted not witnessing it firsthand, surprisingly clarified that this wasn't Aris Witchcraft's fault. So most incidents are my mom's doing? That hurt as her kid....
"It was back when Witchcraft wandered the world seeking powerful familiars. She aimed to contract the Spirit King, but spirits are picky with their pride, groveling to appease even regular ones—the king's haughtiness, which even elves struggle with, was beyond imagination."
Still, as a witch overflowing with qualifications and talent, the Spirit King—thinking it a 'good idea'—attached conditions, the professor said. This was the root of all evil: the 12 Trials.
"As you probably know, it demanded things like the Demon King's Horn, Dragon Lord's Scales, God's Holy Blood, Dark Elf's Treasure, Evil God's Sacred Relic, Stars from the Night Sky, Dwarf King's Beard, Constellation Ticket, Overlord's Hair, Void Remnants, Abyssal Pearl, and the Hero's Arm."
"The hero's arm?"
"Even a Spirit King can't take on a hero. The petty king used the Witch Empress for cowardly revenge—asking for a heart would be too much, so an arm instead."
Wait, she actually collected all 12? That must've been devastating for the locals....
"After clearing the 12 trials and bringing the treasures, it mocked her for taking too long, sneered that a witch contracting hellish demons was pathetic, agreed to the contract but never set a date, and ridiculed her."
"Didn't the rumors spread in the spirit realm?"
"Yeah, probably not."
"So Aris Witchcraft shredded the 12 Spirit Kings soul and all until they vanished, burned the entire spirit realm to collapse the dimension, and cursed every World Tree outside, wiping spirits from the stars."
Bonus: Spirits, who had no concept of death, were granted eternal mortality—even those who fled outside eventually expired. The scale made cold sweat trickle down my back. My sweet, frail mom who whimpers over a sewing prick did that?
"The World Trees deemed 'spirits had it coming,' and elves prioritized expulsion over protection, claiming no relation—those who didn't went extinct with them."
The professor brushed off how certain elf breeds vanished into history.
"Anyway, the gods rebuilt the spirit realm for balance—naturally occurring things like nature spirits. But as you know, all World Trees, 12 kings, and top-tier spirits were massacred, leaving only mid-tier ones now."
Thus, spirit cultivation remains a task between spirits and elves, performed identically across academies—called the Millennium Problem, solving it would etch your name in history.
"Millennium Problem...."
I figured it had nothing to do with me and let it slide.
"So I threatened an elf professor I know at another academy and got this Spirit-Raising Kit: Even Short-Lived Inferiors Can Do It."
After classes ended and we headed to study group, the Divination professor greeted us like he'd been waiting, handing over a box he'd supposedly wrangled from an elf kin with great difficulty.
It looked insanely expensive at a glance, contents anything but ordinary. Greatsword-Bruise, with his collector streak, freaked out that it was a rare only sold in elf lands—we couldn't even buy it.
"Whoa, how'd you snag this?"
Even Kaoru-senpai set down her cigarette to ask, so it must be something special.
"Threatened with Witchcraft."
"I-Is that allowed, Professor?"
I nodded along seeing the madness in his eyes. Even raising upper or top-tier spirits (kings too much) would score academy points. As a group project, all three of us could rack up massive grades at once. Plus, no need to watch our backs like other elves or spirit users.
Reason: With two generations of Witchcraft contractors, at least one would come for payback.
"My mom's a kind and gentle soul!! She reads me fairy tales!!"
"...Fairy... tales? Who... reads...?"
I decided to ignore the Divination professor trembling from PTSD-induced cognitive dissonance. Grand Duke clutched his head with his wings, muttering that forbidden magic tomes aren't for reading, leaving me the only sad one.
"So this is the World Tree Seed?"
"All World Trees cursed extinct—barely any seeds left. Makes it stupidly expensive."
And he got it by threatening with my mom? Anyway, just plant in a pot to open a spirit realm channel and call spirits, so we did. Add proper nutrients next, but Grand Duke suggested my blood, so I bit my finger and dripped some.
Drops hit the soil—whoosh!—and it sprouted wildly. The World Tree shot up to 15cm in seconds, gleaming proudly.
"Who the hell grew a World Tree this well around here?"
And without even calling, a spirit sensed it and appeared. It glanced at the elf professor, eyed us three, scowled, pinched its nose.
"Ugh, creepy bastard-stink parasite mushroom... and what's this? Darkie? Slave?"
"Whoa... hearing it firsthand, it's way more arrogant than I thought."
"Must come with the rank. Thinks it's lord of the spirit realm."
"Heavens, even a disgusting hell demon spawn. World Tree thieves? Want a curse?"
The spirit gathered flames, declaring it'd incinerate us here. It hurled at my face—boom!—startling Greatsword-Bruise, but not a hair singed.
As the spirit stared puzzled, the Divination professor smoothly intervened.
"You just attacked one of our students."
"So? Oh, you're the leak. Insane?"
"You're the insane one. Allow me to introduce: Wiyu Witchcraft, miss. Second-gen Witchcraft."
"I heard my mom did you a favor."
Lightning-fast, flawless apology pose. Terror-stricken face begging to lick toes if needed. Vowed obedience to any order, proactively offering a slave contract without even contracting.
"If you need a loyal, blind minion, I'll do anything."
Looks-wise, it boasted pro-level laundry, bloodstain removal cert and all. Posture flipped so fast, it seemed like a different spirit.
Kaoru-senpai clutched her gut laughing; Greatsword-Bruise mocked apologizing to the bastard.
"Kinda pitiful now."
"It's cursing inwardly. I see it as a demon."
"Really?"
"NoGreatWitchHeirImYourLoyalServantIllDoAnythingDemonsLiesDontFallFor—"
The spirit rapid-fired without breathing, clinging to my ankle begging. Our Divination professor watched in ecstasy.
"I'll set up a spirit contest soon, Wiyu!!!"
The dopamine-flooded professor shrieked maniacally. Our academy's honor duplicated, scores doubled—he whipped out the schedule, checking boxes wildly.
"Sweet, Greatsword-Bruise. We might dodge repeating after all."
"Hear that? Be my footstool with that right arm."
"Yessir!"
"Left arm mine?"
"Why not make it a clothes rack too?"
Kaoru-senpai hoisted me up. Passed to Greatsword-Bruise, who buckled under the weight and blamed the spirit.