The Ugly Duckling (3)
Spirits.
These primordial beings — souls said to be born from the spirits dwelling in mountains, rivers, and trees — were now dismissed as little more than stories out of old legends.
Franc's reaction made that abundantly clear.
"……Spirits? Isn't that the stuff of old fairy tales?"
"Spirits are real. It's simply hard to believe."
The greatest reason for disbelief was that humans cannot see spirits. Only a chosen few possessed the affinity to commune with them at all.
'But the elves, guardians of nature, are different. They speak with spirits from the moment they're born.'
Which was why, across the entire continent, elves were the only beings who wielded the power of spirits.
Franc shot him a slightly uneasy look.
"This isn't me being genuinely scared or anything, but…… you've actually done this before, right?"
"I have, so don't worry. I've even succeeded before."
Long ago, he had received an invitation from the elves and visited their kingdom. There, on a whim, he'd tried the spirit summoning ritual a friend had taught him — and it had worked, just like that. Everyone had marveled, saying he was the first human summoner to appear in 118 years, if his memory served.
'Though I never actually went so far as to form a contract.'
The power of spirits was undeniably efficient and devastatingly effective. But back then, as a great archmage who had already transcended the limits of humanity, it hadn't been a particularly appealing option.
'I could handle most anything on my own without spirits.'
Oscar turned his head and looked at Franc.
'But with this guy, it's a different story.'
Franc was no archmage, and his poor mana control meant that despite possessing the incredible innate ability of Pungbaek (Wind Lord), he could never use it properly.
If they succeeded in implanting a spirit into that body of his, he would grow stronger in a single leap.
'The wind spirit will simply control his mana on Franc's behalf.'
Think of it as a kind of automation system.
When Oscar explained this, Franc's response was distinctly underwhelmed.
"So…… you're saying you're going to implant a spirit into my body…… It'll hurt, won't it?"
"……"
Oscar answered with an icy stare instead of words, and Franc laughed awkwardly.
"O-okay, fine. Fine. I'll bear it. By the way, can anyone summon one of these spirits?"
"As far as I know, you need something called spirit affinity."
Oscar shrugged, crossed his arms, and took a step back.
"Which means we won't know until we try. Go on, give it a shot."
"……"
Franc, looking reasonably nervous, took his place before the summoning circle. He closed his eyes and began reciting the summoning incantation exactly as Oscar had taught him.
"O spirit of wind, pure avatar of cleansing that sweeps away the world's evil and darkness! I, Franc Sirius, a human who seeks the truth, beseech the honor of walking beside your great power. In accordance with the unbreakable covenant handed down from the beginning of time, reveal yourself before me!"
"……"
Oscar glanced around the dead-silent training hall, where not a breath of wind stirred, and nodded.
"Hmm, looks like a no-go. Your affinity is a total bust."
"I thought I felt a breeze just now?"
"That was me sighing."
"Ugh!"
Franc, his face scarlet with embarrassment, grumbled furiously.
"Then what am I supposed to do now!"
"Move aside."
With a light wave of his hand, Oscar sent Franc out of the circle and took his place before it.
"Whew……"
As he closed his eyes, old memories came flooding back. Back then, it hadn't been this barren training hall, but the foot of an enormous World Tree, every direction drowned in green.
"O spirit of wind."
Before a crowd of countless watching elves, he had tossed out just one line.
"Come to me."
"……!"
The next instant, a light burst from the summoning circle on the floor — so blinding it threatened to sear his eyes shut. At the same time, a gale violent enough to swallow his whole field of vision tore through the private training room.
"Gah! Wh-what is this? I can't see!"
Franc's voice squeaked faintly from somewhere far behind him. The wind had apparently swept him all the way into a corner.
When Oscar turned his gaze forward again, an enormous figure, easily three meters tall, was looking down at him.
-Ho. A human……? It has been a full twenty-seven years since a human last succeeded in summoning us……
'Figures. For the record, the one who summoned you last time was me, too.'
Oscar crossed his arms and asked casually.
"I'd like to make a contract. Do I need to draft a formal agreement or anything?"
-Such formalities are unnecessary. What matters is that our hearts be joined.
The great wind spirit knelt on one knee and extended his hand.
-Human. Will you forge a bond of sworn alliance with me, Silestin, a highest-tier wind spirit?
"Hmm? No."
-……
Silestin, who had never imagined he'd be flatly refused point-blank, was thrown into complete disarray.
-Wh-why not?
"Ah, I forgot to mention."
Oscar jerked a thumb at the back of the room, from which tortured groaning could be heard.
"I don't need a spirit or anything. I just summoned you to have you implanted into that guy's body."
-……
The dignified, august face of Silestin went briefly, magnificently blank. Who on earth summons a spirit — a highest-tier spirit, no less — as casually as calling a waiter in a tavern?
-This is truly insufferable insolence!
And so Silestin's fury was, in fairness, entirely justified.
The whirlwind grew fiercer still, and Oscar's clothing whipped about as if it might tear to shreds at any moment. He first spread both palms to calm the spirit down.
"Calm down first. Elastin. Ah, wait, was it Silverstein?"
-It is SILESTIN! And how am I meant to calm down in this situation?!
"Just settle down and hear me out."
-I refuse! I will not hear a single word!
'Seriously, what kind of highest-tier spirit throws a tantrum like a brat?'
A look of open annoyance on his face, Oscar spoke in a chilling voice.
"……Calm down while I'm asking nicely."
-How laughable! And what will you do if I refuse? What could a mere human possibly do to me?!
"Silafrion of Serenity."
At those casually uttered words, the wind fell silent — and Silestin's entire demeanor turned markedly cautious. He asked meekly, like a child hauled before his mother after causing trouble.
-……Human. How do you know Her honored name?
"Because we've spoken before."
Silafrion of Serenity. The name of the Spirit King who ruled the wind.
For an ordinary person, merely discovering that name bordered on the impossible — and even knowing it, one would never easily be permitted to speak it aloud. She was a demigod.
Oscar continued.
"Tell her the White Mage has returned."
-What is that supposed to……
Silestin, mid-question, suddenly shuddered as if struck by lightning. Then he stared at Oscar with a gaze where wonder and dread coexisted, as though beholding a creature he had never seen in all his existence.
-Human, what…… what ARE you? For the King herself to issue a direct command……
"Just tell me whether it works or not. If it doesn't, I'll have to find another way. I don't have time."
-Hmmm.
Silestin swallowed a long groan and gave a heavy nod.
-She has granted it. Though she says what will be provided is a low-rank spirit, and even that is not a contract — merely a simple implantation.
"That's more than enough."
Franc wouldn't be able to commune with the spirit and grow stronger through their bond, but even this alone was a gift. By the standards humans had established, a low-rank spirit was roughly equivalent to a 4th-level mage. That was more than sufficient to manage Franc's mana in his stead.
-And She bade me deliver one more message.
Silestin spat out the words in an imposing voice, as though imitating someone.
-Do not forget our long-standing pact.
"……Don't worry. I keep my promises — always."
It wasn't that he'd forgotten. In his past life, he'd simply died without warning, leaving those promises unfulfilled.
Privately, Oscar was grateful to Silafrion. Thanks to her, countless members of the White Tower had been saved.
'So I'll repay that debt in full. With generous interest on top.'
Having settled his thoughts, Oscar nodded.
"My business here is done. Nothing else you need from me, right?"
-Perhaps you would truly consider a contract with me after all……
"I said no."
-Understood……
Silestin, sulking, scattered into the wind — and at the same instant, Franc let out a shriek.
"Gyaaah! O-Oscar! Something like bugs is crawling all over my body — it's itching like crazy!"
"Stop being dramatic. Those aren't bugs, they're spirits."
'The low-rank spirit is probably burrowing into his soul right now.'
In the language of spirits, it was an act of joining hearts. Normally this came easily to anyone with spirit affinity — but since Franc had none, it had to be forced.
"Hahh, hah."
The link must have completed, because Franc collapsed flat onto the floor of the training room. Oscar walked over and crouched beside him.
"How does it feel?"
"How does it— what kind of question is…… huh?"
Franc scrambled to his feet, rolled his shoulders a few times, then sprang up into a quick little jump. Then he blinked with eyes brighter than they'd ever been.
"I don't know why, but my body feels lighter?"
"Of course it does."
By its very nature, contracting with a spirit purged all the impurities that had accumulated in one's body. When he heard that, Franc was beside himself with joy.
"This is great! Even my focus feels sharper. It always used to feel like there was fog stuck in my head."
"Sounds like brain fog."
Brain fog was a phenomenon that degraded concentration and memory — usually a stress-related condition.
'He always seemed so carefree that I never noticed, but he must have been under more stress than I realized.'
At the same time, Oscar was curious. His skill had never been bad before — so what would Franc at one hundred percent actually look like?
"Well then, shall we get started?"
"Huh? Started? Started with what?"
"……What do you think we came here to do?"
Oscar drew a wooden stick from who-knew-where out of his sleeve and said,
"We train your innate magic — Pungbaek — and get you to 4th level."
"But like I said, I've still got trauma from that whole thing……"
"Ah, don't worry about that part."
Oscar flashed a pleasant smile and added, ever so helpfully:
"After all, you said it yourself — it activates on its own the moment your life's in danger."
"?"
Fifteen hours remained until noon tomorrow.
Exactly the right amount of time to turn one oblivious fool into a 4th-level mage.
Behind the White Tower lay a forest, and near its entrance stood an outdoor sparring ground. Grand's escort knight, Lazli, who had already arrived, asked carefully:
"My lord, how finely should I calibrate the level of force for today's match?"
"There's no need to hold back. Fight at your full strength."
"……Pardon?"
"The courtesy of not using sword aura is already the extent of my consideration. What more do you expect me to concede?"
Grand lowered his head slightly.
"If that boy fails to show me something capable of convincing me, this ends here. He'll be nothing more than a braggart with a pretty mouth."
"Understood."
Lazli bowed and waited for his opponent to arrive. Before long, two mages approached them.
"Good morning, Vice Tower Master."
"Indeed. The breeze is cool — a truly pleasant day."
Grand turned to the good-naturedly smiling Vice Tower Master.
"Your presence here — am I to take it as your approval of the terms of our deal?"
"Honestly, I deliberated a great deal, but I've decided to accept."
The Vice Tower Master's gaze lingered briefly on Oscar.
"The developer of the treatment was simply too stubborn in his convictions."
Naturally, Elder Fidelina had opposed the deal foaming at the mouth, and Elder Maxim was still physically restraining her at this very moment — but there was no need to mention that.
"I see. Then I won't pry any further. This is my knight, who will fight in today's match."
"Lazli Morgan, 5th-level knight."
"Oscar Crucian, 2nd-level mage."
"Then allow me to explain the terms of the match."
Grand produced two necklaces and listed the conditions.
"The two of you will wear these necklaces and commence the duel. The rules are simple: whoever seizes the opponent's necklace first wins."
"……"
A necklace snatch. A rather classical format.
"If no victor is decided within five minutes, we will consider it our defeat."
That clause was surely the other side's consideration, given the gap in their levels. The Vice Tower Master looked at him as if to ask whether this was acceptable.
"That's fine."
Oscar nodded as if there were no problem at all and clasped his hands behind his back.
"No point dragging it out — let's begin right away."
"Will that outfit be all right? It hardly looks suited for combat."
Oscar was currently wearing the billowy mage robe of the White Tower. It did offer a fair bit of stretch, but it was nothing compared to proper battle gear.
"Ah, it's fine."
Oscar grinned and took a single step to the side.
"I won't be the one fighting, after all."
"……What?"
Grand Sirius, about to ask what on earth that meant, suddenly clamped his mouth shut. Behind him, he could see his younger brother approaching, dressed in the White Tower's combat uniform.
He narrowed his eyes and fixed Oscar with a stare.
"What is the meaning of this?"
"You told me to prove I had the ability worth dealing with you. You never said I had to fight you myself."
Oscar shrugged and smacked the back of the approaching Franc.
"This fellow will prove my ability for me. I've been teaching him this and that since yesterday."
"What could you possibly teach someone in less than a single day?"
Grand's voice sharpened with warning.
"If you're sending Franc out as your champion in the hope that I'll go easy on him — if that's the petty little scheme you're nursing……"
"It's nothing of the sort. I'm sending him out because I genuinely believe his odds are high."
Cutting the man off, Oscar declared:
"Surely a 4th-level mage beats a 2nd-level one, don't you think?"
"……4th level? But as of yesterday he was clearly—"
"3rd level, yes. If you want him made into your flagship mage within two years, shouldn't he show at least this much?"
"……"
Grand held his silence for a long moment, then slowly nodded.
"My mistake for not including a clause requiring you to fight in person. As a merchant, I've committed a fatal blunder — so the burden of it is mine to bear as well."
"Thank you for understanding."
"There's no need to speak of understanding."
Grand seated himself in the spectator's box and crossed his legs with haughty elegance.
"A merchant's word must weigh more than gold."
Then he raised his voice so that everyone could hear.
"Lazli."
"Yes, my lord."
"No matter what happens, show no mercy. Disobey this order and your punishment will be severe."
"I shall not forget it."
It was a thoroughly trite warning — but its effect was excellent. Franc's tense body visibly went rigid.
'Not good.'
Catching this, Oscar approached him and swept his palm around. Smack! Franc, smacked squarely on the back without warning, stared at him in disbelief.
"What was that for? Why'd you hit me?"
"To loosen you up. Feeling better?"
"Like a smack is going to fix ner— wait, huh?"
Franc's eyes went round. His stiff body actually did feel looser.
"I relaxed the tension and the muscles that had knotted up with mana. A kind of massage."
"……And where did you learn that, exactly?"
"Learn it? I didn't learn it. I was just born gifted."
"Ha. My mistake for asking. Right. You're just naturally blessed."
"And the mage so talented that someone as blessed as me is desperate to keep hold of him is you. So don't be scared."
Franc's face registered pure shock. They'd spent years together, and he had never once seen Oscar rate another person so highly.
Maybe that was why — he felt his confidence, which had fallen all the way to rock bottom, begin to recover a little.
"……But the opponent is a 5th-level knight."
In twenty years of life, he had never once faced an opponent of that caliber. Frankly, it would have been stranger not to tremble, staring one in the face.
"Hmm. Can't be helped, then. Here, lend me your ear."
Oscar whispered strategy into his ear for a long while, then finished.
"Do exactly this, and you'll win. Guaranteed."
That a 4th-level mage could beat a 5th-level knight was an absurdity. Normally, Franc would have shot back that it was utterly impossible — but today was different.
"……Okay. I'll give it a shot."
A resolute expression settling over his face, Franc stepped up onto the sparring ground.