Chapter 25
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: A Glimpse of Fate
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Looks like an elevator.
As Luon stared in wonder at the smoothly rising floor, Amella spoke.
“It’s a Levitation Stone. A mineral that floats when infused with mana. Even when the mana is cut off, it doesn’t just free-fall; it descends slowly, which makes it incredibly convenient for structures with multiple floors like this.”
By the time she finished her explanation, the Levitation Stone, which had been gradually decelerating, came to a halt.
The group stepped onto the stairs and followed Edi into a narrow corridor.
As they walked down the hallway, Amella asked.
“Edi, are the old geezers still doing well?”
At this, Edi, who was walking at the front, snorted, his voice thick with irritation.
“Hah, unfortunately, they’re the same as ever.”
“Sounds like you’ve had a lot on your mind.”
As if he had been waiting for the chance, Edi unleashed a torrent of words.
“Amella, you know it’s not like the interpretation of the Philosopher’s Stone has been stalled for just a day or two, right? The work has been stagnant for over a decade, but it’s not enough that they delude themselves into thinking it’s all because Salvator damaged the stone. They throw tantrums all day long… My already frayed mind can’t take it.”
Amella sighed at him as he spat out the words without taking a breath.
“They’ve always been like that. And you, you need to stop doing crazy things like mental schism. What’s the point of reducing the burden on your consciousness if you spend more than half the day living as a version of you that isn't you?”
As if he didn't want to hear her chiding, Edi shook his head.
“That’s enough. I’m already suffocating under the old geezers’ nagging. It won’t do if you start, too.”
He then added.
“The only saving grace is that most of the old fools are so obsessed with their own research they’ve become hermits. Thanks to that, Iredor is the only one officially handling administrative duties.”
“Iredor isn’t so bad.”
“He’s the most reasonable of the bunch, at least.”
Staring intently at the two of them as they conversed, Kyle whispered to Luon.
“What on earth are they talking about? Just like a bunch of mages, I can’t understand a single word.”
“They’re just bad-mouthing their superiors.”
“What are superiors?”
Chatting amongst themselves, the group passed through the corridor and was greeted by what could only be described as a labyrinth of books.
Even Luon, who was rarely surprised by anything, let out a short gasp at the dizzying sight of tens of thousands of thick books, each forming walls of their own.
Incredible.
As if accustomed to such a scene, Edi moved forward without pause, weaving through the maze. The group followed and soon arrived before an old man lying in a hammock, reading a book.
“It’s been a while, Amella.”
Without looking up from his book, the old man moved only his lips. Amella gave a slight bow.
“It has, Master Iredor.”
So the ‘old geezers’ they were talking about were the masters of the Magic Tower.
As Luon’s eyes glinted at the significant title, the old man sat up.
Turning his head to survey the group, the old man slowly spoke.
“You’ve brought some strange ones with you.”
He extended a gaunt finger, pointing alternately at Luon and Kyle.
“It’s absurd enough that a man without a speck of divinity is carrying a sword blessed by Tivela, but the other one is carrying a long-lost Spellbreaker… I can’t even begin to guess what kind of people you are.”
Kyle pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the shield on his back and asked.
“Is the name of this shield Spellbreaker?”
At his bold question, the brow of the old man called Iredor furrowed.
“You’ve been carrying that thing around all this time without even knowing its history? You clueless fool, that shield is…”
Just then, Edi cut in.
“Let’s save that for later. It would be best to finish our business while my mind is still intact.”
With that, Edi held out the stone tablet he was holding in one hand.
As Iredor took the tablet, his eyes grew deep.
“Heavily contaminated by the power of Belducias. Did you go so far as to borrow the hand of that fool, Quentinuus, to slow it down?”
Seeing Amella’s silence, Iredor clicked his tongue.
“Well, that’s your business.”
Shaking his head, he said.
“It will be difficult to restore the Philosopher’s Stone right away. For now, we’ll have to be satisfied with just having it back in our hands.”
For the first time, Iredor looked directly at Amella.
“You must have gone through a lot to bring back an item in such a state.”
Amella did not deny it.
“There were many trials. Without the help of these two beside me, it would have been impossible to return safely. That is why I wish for them to receive a fitting reward.”
At her words, Iredor nodded.
“Indeed. If there’s one thing that shouldn’t be left ambiguous, it’s the matter of debts and favors. You first. Is there something you desire?”
Kyle, singled out first, scratched his head in bewilderment.
“Huh? So suddenly? I, uh, I haven’t really done much… I only came this far because I insisted on tagging along.”
Iredor shook his head, displeased by the lack of a ready answer, and this time turned his gaze to Luon.
“What do you want?”
“I came to have my fate told.”
At Luon’s calm reply, Iredor narrowed his eyes.
“Fate?”
“That’s right.”
“What good will it do to glimpse something so uncertain?”
“I’ll manage that myself.”
At the unhesitating response, the wrinkles around Iredor’s eyes curved into a gentle arc.
“Very well.”
With those words, Iredor began to slowly move his lips.
At that, a light emerged from his body like a mist, floating into the air and brightly illuminating a massive drawing on the ceiling.
A map?
As Luon looked up at the huge map that filled the ceiling, Iredor approached and held out his hand.
“Give me your hand.”
Luon didn't particularly like the abrupt demand, but figuring anyone living in a place like this couldn't be entirely normal, he placed his hand on Iredor’s gaunt palm without a word.
Iredor spoke.
“I’ll warn you beforehand. What you are about to see is by no means a determined outcome. It is merely a process of projecting the possibilities built upon your past through countless scenarios to glimpse the fragment with the highest probability. Therefore…”
What is this nonsense?
Having no need for such a long-winded explanation he couldn’t even understand, Luon cut him off.
“Long-winded explanations tend to cheapen the effect, mage.”
“You insolent brat.”
Iredor wrinkled his nose and gripped Luon’s hand.
In that instant, Luon realized his vision was rocketing toward the ceiling.
The moment it collided with the map drawn there!
He was standing tall in a forest shrouded in darkness.
A strange sense of déjà vu washed over him as he looked around.
“Kyaaaaaaah!”
A terrible scream echoed from behind him.
He turned his head to see a monster with long, flailing arms and legs charging at him with terrifying speed.
It’s not there?
Luon immediately tried to draw his holy sword, only to realize too late that there was nothing at his hip. He reflexively threw a punch at the monster that was now right in front of him.
But his fist passed futilely through the monster’s body.
As Luon turned his head toward the monster that had instantly passed him,
“Kieeeek!”
The monster, its arm severed, was letting out a pained shriek. That was just the beginning; in an instant, its dismembered flesh rained down onto the ground.
He saw the man who had sliced up the monster—no, the banshee—mutter with a faint smile.
“Not bad.”
It wasn't déjà vu after all.
Only then did Luon realize that this scene was a moment from his own past.
The scenery changed once more.
The scene of him killing five thugs who were after his necklace and hurrying on his way passed by, followed by a flash of him severing the head of a monster that was vomiting ghouls.
The monastery, the holy sword, the stele, Kyle, Amella, the demon’s minions, and the Magic Tower.
The landscapes, which had been changing in chronological order, began to accelerate until, at a certain point, they deposited Luon in a completely new space.
Where am I?
The air was dark and gloomy, filled with a damp chill. Murky water rose to his ankles, and in it floated blood that had yet to mix.
Luon’s eyes followed a long trail of blood and spotted something massive crouched in the distance.
Watching ‘it’ writhe grotesquely as it slowly unfurled its body, Luon gritted his teeth.
It was three giant hands.
Three massive hands of different races: one red, one yellow, and one black.
“…Belducias.”
At that moment, the ground beneath Luon’s feet dissolved and began to sink. As he plummeted into a bottomless abyss along with the crumbling earth, a familiar voice reached his ears.
“Are you awake?”
Luon’s eyes shot open to see Amella’s blue ones looking back at him. She was leaning against the headboard, a worried expression on her face.
“Did I lose consciousness?”
“Surprisingly, yes.”
Have I ever lost consciousness against my will before?
He couldn't recall, so he supposed it had never happened.
“What happened?”
Amella answered immediately.
“Even after Iredor let go of your hand, you just stood there, completely still. You stood like that for several minutes, then suddenly passed out. You should have seen the look on Kyle’s face…”
As if remembering something, Amella chuckled softly before stopping her laughter and asking.
“I know this might be rude, but would it be alright to ask what you saw?”
It wasn't exactly a secret, so Luon answered right away.
“I came face to face with something that looked like Belducias, but I’m not sure if it was really him.”
Amella’s eyes widened as if they would tear.
“You saw him?”
Watching Luon nod calmly, Amella muttered.
“It seems your past of killing three of Belducias’s minions and purifying their power with the holy sword had a significant impact. But, Luon… like Iredor said, it’s not a fixed future, so there’s no need to worry.”
Luon tilted his head.
“Worry? Worry about what?”
“Well, that…”
“Didn’t I tell you before? I believe I said that if such a situation arises, I’ll just kill it.”
At Luon’s unwavering words, Amella let out a hollow laugh.
“It’s strange. Whenever you say things like that, it never sounds like a joke.”
“It’s not a joke.”
As Amella laughed aloud at Luon's blunt reply, she pressed a finger to her high cheekbones, barely managing to swallow her laughter.
“Luon, can I ask you one more thing?”
“You have a lot of questions today.”
“Is that a no?”
“Well, I suppose it’s not.”
As if surprised by his ready agreement, Amella’s eyes went round as she slowly opened her mouth.
“I’ve always been curious. With your level of skill, you could live a life of luxury anywhere you go. Why don’t you?”
Luon couldn't answer rashly.
Her question pierced through the core of his life as the character Luon.
Why do I fight? Why do I level up? Why do I wander in search of stronger opponents? Why…
Can’t I settle down?
The answer, naturally, was always the same.
He wanted to go back.
Not because he desperately missed his life as a 26-year-old college student busy preparing for a job, but simply because that was where he originally belonged.
No matter how strong his body or how great his swordsmanship, in this world, Luon was nothing more than an eternal stranger suffering from a terrible homesickness.
Searching for a sentence that could simply explain all those feelings to Amella, Luon suddenly smiled faintly and opened his mouth.
“For the completion of my story.”