Chapter 68

Chapter 68

The area of effect for the ice formation spell was pitifully tiny and faded away in less than three seconds.

In truth, the result was so feeble that it served no functional purpose.

“My magical energy…”

Even that minor effort left Alon feeling as though his mana core had been entirely emptied, and it suddenly struck him just how foolhardy his struggle against the foreign entity half a year ago had been.

‘I should have considered myself lucky to have made it out alive.’

With that reflection, Alon turned his gaze to the dragonkin who had been jeering at him earlier.

Although he could only perceive a shadowy silhouette with vacant white gaps for eyes and a mouth, Alon could distinctly interpret its expression.

The dragonkin was staring, dumbfounded, at the place where the magic had briefly appeared, its jaw hanging open in shock.

[How… how can this be? You evidently have no knowledge of Mind Resonance or any related concepts…]

The dragonkin muttered in stunned disbelief, its countenance one of pure astonishment, as if the very foundations of its world had been upended.

“Honor our agreement.”

Alon reminded it of the crucial matter.

The dragonkin’s face contorted.

For a brief instant, it appeared the dragonkin was about to yell that Alon had deceived it and that their deal was invalid.

However, after Alon commented that a being of its stature ought to keep its word, the dragonkin let out a groan, as if bearing the weight of the entire world.

[Master…]

Gnashing its teeth with a loud, grating sound, the dragonkin finally forced out the address.

Though the word carried more venom and killing intent than any genuine reverence, Alon gave a self-satisfied nod, feeling a surge of justification.

[Are you certain you know nothing of Mind Resonance?]

The dragonkin inquired once more.

Alon shook his head.

“Nothing.”

[…It appears you are not being untruthful.]

“Why is it so significant?” Alon asked, sincerely perplexed.

The dragonkin paused briefly before elaborating.

[As I explained previously, magic was fundamentally devised to draw near to the ‘laws.’ Phrases, seals, and inscriptions all fulfill that role.]

[However, a critical distinction exists: while phrases and seals can be employed if their significance is grasped, inscriptions by themselves are insufficient.]

Perched on the desk’s edge, the dragonkin went on.

[As I told you earlier, inscriptions are the mechanism for accessing the laws that mages have etched into the fabric of this world.]

“I recall you mentioning that… but if your words are accurate, and comprehending Mind Resonance is essential for self-manifestation, why did you impart that inscription to me? If I truly needed Mind Resonance, wouldn’t I have been incapable of using it, even with your instruction?”

Answering Alon’s inquisitive query, the dragonkin replied without delay.

[You are both correct and mistaken. As I stated, inscriptions are keys, but they are also a method of meddling with the laws. This implies they can function as keys, but also as tools to warp the laws themselves.]

Alon nodded, showing his comprehension.

He had previously utilized the ice formation spell in varied ways before his attempt at self-manifestation. He now also grasped which specific law the inscription ‘Glory of the Snowy Mountains’ manipulated.

“So it possesses a dual purpose, then.”

[Precisely. While its primary function is as a key to assist mages in approaching the laws they have recorded, it can also be applied as a law in its own right.]

The dragonkin continued.

[But as I have reiterated, self-manifestation demands Mind Resonance. Mind Resonance is memory.]

“…Memory?”

Alon tilted his head, slightly confused. The dragonkin wavered for a moment before providing more detail.

[Yes. Individuals speak of inheriting history or knowledge, but ultimately, it is all memory. The memory of the initial moments when mages drew close to the laws and forged the inscriptions.]

[That is what I refer to as Mind Resonance, and it is absolutely imperative for using inscriptions as keys. That is why I claimed it was illogical.]

The dragonkin furrowed its brow and added, its voice dropping slightly.

[In this world, neither Mind Resonance nor the mages capable of bequeathing it to their heirs still exist.]

A short period of quiet ensued.

But soon, the dragonkin’s sigh interrupted the stillness.

[That is the reason for my confusion. How, exactly, did you achieve self-manifestation?]

It stared at Alon with a baffled look, but naturally, Alon had no answer to give.

After all, Alon himself was unaware of how he had accomplished self-manifestation.

Or, to be more accurate, he knew the procedure. He formed a seal, recited the phrase, and voiced the inscription.

Through those actions, Alon successfully performed self-manifestation.

Yet, this contradicted the dragonkin’s recent explanation.

The assertion that self-manifestation required the inheritance of Mind Resonance clashed with Alon’s own experience, as he possessed no recollection of inheriting any such thing.

That was not the sole inconsistency. A considerable chasm also existed between the dragonkin’s general knowledge and what Alon understood.

First, until now, Alon had employed phrases, inscriptions, and seals to cast spells, but most of this knowledge was gained by him vocalizing the phrases himself and learning via practice.

In other words, he had deduced the meaning of the phrases through repeated attempts, without any previous comprehension.

But the dragonkin had explicitly stated that phrases and inscriptions could only be utilized if their meaning was understood.

Effectively, its words implied that Alon’s self-taught method of learning magic should have been unworkable.

“Before we proceed, I have a question.”

[What is it?]

Alon then voiced his uncertainties to the dragonkin, who, after listening for a time, murmured,

[…Is that even feasible?]

It stared vacantly, completely unable to grasp it.

“But that is the method I have always used. And it remains the same now.”

Alon’s reply was met with a skeptical laugh from the dragonkin, which was on the verge of saying more when—

*Rumble!*

“?”

Alon looked confused as the tower abruptly trembled, as if struck by a seismic tremor.

[…It seems my time has expired.]

“Your time?”

[The duration for which I can materialize in this world is limited, and it appears it is now concluding.]

Alon instinctively frowned at this clarification, but the dragonkin offered a reassuring smile.

[Do not be overly concerned. You may return in five days, and we will speak again. I will clarify your questions then. And—]

[-If you can, locate the ‘Sparrow’s Staff’ and acquire the phrases and inscriptions from the consciousness within. You will be able to communicate by directing magic into it.]

Sparrow’s Staff…? A sentient weapon?

[More accurately, a weapon instilled with a personality, a rather eccentric one. Obtain the phrases and inscriptions from it.]

“You describe these inscriptions as akin to hidden arts, yet you claim it will readily divulge them?”

[Do not fret over that. The consciousness within laments its inability to transmit its knowledge; it will be exceedingly eager to instruct you.]

[I am anticipating it. If your account is accurate, you will be capable of—]

The dragonkin once again revealed a cunning grin.

[-Employing the magic of all mages using only phrases, inscriptions, and seals. And—]

Before it could complete its sentence, the dragonkin vanished in a flash, leaving Alon gazing silently at the now-empty space.

***

A short while later.

Alon, having departed the ruins, was now seated in a carriage, immersed in thought.

He had not uncovered the secrets that initially drew him there, the enigmas he had pondered for so long. But his attention had moved elsewhere.

The secrets did not pose an immediate danger, especially since his obligations at the Colosseum required him to remain in the colony for at least another two weeks.

Instead, Alon was mulling over the dragonkin’s statements.

‘…You cannot wield magic without comprehending phrases, inscriptions, and self-manifestation, is that it?’

He had turned it over in his mind repeatedly.

‘That dragonkin did not appear to be lying, so how was I able to utilize them?’

Despite pondering the question multiple times, he knew there was no way to find a solution to something he did not grasp.

‘I have a feeling there is a deeper significance here…’

With a mild sense of intrigue, he soon redirected his thoughts to another subject.

‘Sparrow’s Staff, then…’

Fortunately, Alon was aware of the location of the Sparrow’s Staff, as referenced by the dragonkin.

‘It ought to be housed in the royal treasury of the colony.’

He had previously entered the royal vault on several occasions during missions to retrieve different artifacts, so he knew the place well.

However, despite knowing its location, Alon had never taken the Sparrow’s Staff.

In terms of capability, the item was one of the least advantageous options within the vault.

‘…Its attributes are not compelling enough to select it over another item I had initially intended to acquire.’

Even so, he did not plan to disregard the dragonkin’s counsel, so after some consideration, he reached a decision.

‘I suppose I have no alternative… I must first enroll as a combatant in the Colosseum.’

He resolved to participate in the Colosseum this time and secure the Sparrow’s Staff.

And so…

“Master!”

“Yes?”

“Will you pat my head?”

“…Your head?”

“Yes!”

As he gently stroked Seolrang’s hair, she having nestled beside him seeking the pat—

“Mmm—”

—she was visibly relishing it, even though his hand was nearly still as she actively rubbed her head against it.

Together, they reached the colony.

And then…

“…What?”

The instant they entered, Alon observed that the ambiance was uncommonly disordered.

In fact, after noting the near absence of people moving about inside the colony, Alon looked bewildered, but only momentarily.

As they proceeded by carriage toward the guild, Alon spotted a massive throng assembled along the colony’s main thoroughfare and promptly stopped the vehicle.

Navigating through the crowd was unfeasible.

Furthermore—

“Lady Seolrang, it appears we must wait for the crowd to disperse.”

The beastman scout returned with a report, and Seolrang glanced at Alon.

After a brief reflection, Alon stated, “Let’s wait and observe while we do.”

He exited the carriage, his interest piqued by the lively spectacle.

It seemed as if the colony’s entire populace had converged, crowding both sides of the central avenue.

As Alon stepped down and navigated through the mass of people, he eventually saw a carriage approaching from afar.

“Halt.”

A mercenary obstructed Alon’s way.

The mercenary, evidently rugged in appearance, gave Alon a slight push with the hand gripping his sword and spoke.

“No one is permitted near Lord Milanon.”

A direct threat.

Only then did Alon notice that, despite the multitude, this specific zone was clear, secured by mercenaries.

Alon shifted his focus to the man positioned within the ring of guards.

He had the appearance of a colony noble, embellished with various ornaments and radiating an unmistakable air of conceit.

Having apparently overheard the mercenary, the noble glanced at Alon, smirked, and then averted his gaze.

In that moment, Alon felt an inward chuckle at the sight of this noble, who, akin to many of his status, seemed to derive superiority from the most insignificant matters.

*Crack!*

Instantly, the mercenary who had blocked Alon was gone, hurled into a neighboring food stall.

It had occurred in a split second.

The crowd’s focus immediately shifted to the incident, and the mercenaries forming the perimeter began to advance before they could even process the event.

At that moment—

*Zap!*

*Boom! Crash!*

The mercenaries moving toward Alon were flung through the air and smashed against structures.

“Se, Seolrang!?”

Milanon, the noble who had been smirking moments earlier, jerked back in alarm at Seolrang’s sudden presence.

“Aaaaaaaah!!!”

He started shrieking as Seolrang seized his head.

Then—

“He disrespected you, Master. How shall I deal with him?”

Seolrang turned to Alon with a radiant smile, a sharp contrast to her treatment of Milanon. Alon was speechless.

Without allowing him a moment to intercede, Seolrang clenched the noble’s head firmly, as if she might pulverize it at any second, merely for his mockery of Alon.

“Shall I eliminate him?”

While it was undoubtedly gratifying, Alon felt it was somewhat excessive.

“At the very least, not on a street this crowded…”

Alon, contemplating how to manage the predicament, became aware of the murmurs surrounding them.

He soon noticed that the white carriage traversing the packed street had halted directly before him. Simultaneously, he identified the carriage’s origin.

‘The Holy Kingdom, I see.’

As Alon observed the paladins, the thought occurred to him, and just then, the door of the stationary carriage opened, and an individual began to emerge.

It was a girl clad in black, with red embroidery adorning her sacred garments in multiple places.

“Hm?”

Alon only experienced a brief moment of confusion, sensing her face was oddly recognizable.

“Ca- Cardinal!”

Alon heard the voice of the noble Milanon, his head still restrained by Seolrang, as he addressed the girl. In that instant, Alon’s intuition warned him that circumstances were about to grow more intricate.

To an uninformed observer, this scene would depict Alon and Seolrang harassing a blameless noble.

Milanon, seeming keen to exploit the situation, adopted a dramatically sorrowful expression. Alon considered whether he should attempt to rectify the misinterpretation.

But defying his predictions, the girl who had exited the carriage did not approach the noble captive in Seolrang’s hold.

No, she did not even look his way, as if he were of no consequence. Instead, she walked directly to Alon.

“Eek!”

As Seolrang, tail wagging vigorously, moved out of the way, the girl approached Alon and clasped his left hand with both of hers.

Then—

“It has been such a long time.”

At that moment, as the girl’s red eyes—now visible as she opened them—met his, Alon recognized her.

The girl before him was none other than—

“Lord.”

—Yutia Bludia.

On a street now hushed and filled with amazement, where the murmurs had ceased, she smiled at him without uttering another word.