Chapter 293

Chapter 293
## Chapter 293

Same Time, Different Place (4)

Having established a comforting and amiable environment through his genuine grin and a soft slap on the back, Harley gave a contented nod.

‘Coming to this location was definitely the correct move. And this fellow, Patrick, possesses quite a bit of ingenuity.’

His arrival at this spot had not occurred by mere chance.

Although Harley had been journeying across the isolated areas of the south, he maintained awareness of everything around him.

He had naturally been keeping a watchful eye on the Mercenary Guild.

‘Furthermore, the situation across the southern lands has largely settled down by now.’

Because of that factor, he managed to arrange his arrival without any holdups, allowing the Guild to evade what could have been a truly catastrophic clash.

A mutually beneficial outcome.

‘It works out beautifully for both parties.’

They managed to steer clear of a violent confrontation, and he spared himself unnecessary exertion.

An ideal resolution.

‘Naturally, I must remain vigilant regarding their actions, just to ensure they do not attempt anything foolish.’

Proactive measures were far superior to dealing with consequences later.

It certainly wouldn’t hurt to offer them a small demonstration of his irresistible might.

“Hahaha—! A moment like this demands a grand feast! The meal is on my tab, so let us all venture out for food! Where can we find the finest establishment for meat in these parts?”

He announced with great cheer, resembling a supervisor treating his corporate staff to an after-work dinner party.

Partaking in food together was truly the finest method for forging connections!

“Ahem.”

“Well, regarding that matter…”

“Our drills for the day are not yet completed…”

“…I happen to be monitoring my calories.”

Yet as one might anticipate, the reception from the crowd was far from passionate.

The various directors of the Guild, with the sole exception of Patrick, looked away from his direction, their countenances filled with unease.

They resembled staff members desperately wishing to slip away from the office ahead of schedule.

It amounted to an unmistakable decline, but Harley, entirely missing their quiet signals, scowled and folded his arms over his chest.

“Heh? You people harbor a dislike for meat?”

The cords of his arms flexed and expanded aggressively, behaving as though they possessed an independent consciousness.

As if the existence of such an individual was entirely beyond belief.

And even if such a person existed, he harbored no intention of permitting it.

“…Naturally, that is not the case. I was merely contemplating the finest venue for meat within the city of Dracal. I am acquainted with an establishment that offers superb cuts alongside immense helpings. I shall guide our path.”

“Hahaha, I cannot possibly leave my own followers behind. I shall instruct the kitchen to roast several whole swine for their enjoyment.”

“Ahem, a true combatant never turns away from a plate of meat. Proper nourishment constitutes a vital segment of one’s conditioning…”

“Hohoho! Maintaining a balanced regime occasionally necessitates the consumption of flesh.”

Owing to Harley’s persistent attitude, the temperature of the room grew comfortable once more.

He offered a pleased nod and then, taking the position of leadership, moved with absolute assurance out of the Guild headquarters.

Patrick, adopting a submissive and eager-to-please posture, kept pace directly behind him, while the remaining Guild directors, trading glances with one another, half-heartedly followed the pair.

It could appear as though individuals of their lofty standing within the organization had capitulated with far too much ease… however, they possessed valid justifications for their compliance.

‘…I shall offer my obedience for the moment. An opportunity remains. Even the inaugural Mercenary King, an individual who attained the heights of transcendence, met his end while battling the Immortal King. Should this man perish… ’

‘This bodes terribly. Clayven has already given his allegiance. Ought I to alter my loyalties as well?’

‘Curse it all, what sort of entity am I witnessing?! Can he truly be classified as human? They claimed he was a Dragonborn? He projects the aura of a colossal behemoth!’

‘Tsk, my presence here was an error. I ought to have simply dispatched my underlings instead… Yet a Dragonborn… and he has actually slaughtered dragons? What manner of terrifying entity is the Immortal King?’

Harley, having grown accustomed to the phenomenon, remained entirely unaware, but he had been unceasingly drinking in the ambient essence of instability ever since he claimed the “Seed of Madness” from the Revolutionary.

It represented the core of a blasphemous might, comparable to the Immortal King Hans’s “Immortal Heart”, pulled directly from the abyss.

Though instability possessed less absolute weight than the concept of death, it remained an energy far outstripping ordinary mortal comprehension.

It was entirely logical for individuals possessing refined perceptions to experience a powerful reaction when near his form.

“Greetings, my companion! You indicated you would escort us to an exceptional establishment! Conduct us there!”

“Ah— Indeed, follow this route.”

To put it plainly, the individuals who managed to persist within the brutal domain of sell-swords held their survival in far higher regard than personal vanity or a desire for dominance.

“My goodness! I seem to have neglected to carry my purse along! Whatever shall I do…”

“…Permit me to shoulder the expenses for our gathering today. It stands as a profound privilege to make the acquaintance of a champion such as yourself, Harley-nim.”

“Oh! You possess a truly magnificent spirit! We ought to forge a bond of companionship! Hahaha!”

“Ha… Hahaha…”

They lacked the courage to offer even a minor rejoinder to the very man they had been quietly ridiculing mere moments prior.

On that particular date, “Ogre’s Table”, a dining house focusing on meat delicacies within Dracal, recorded its greatest financial earnings in memory, completely exhausting its entire supply of food.

Meanwhile Clayven, who had harbored aspirations of claiming the title of Mercenary King, stared blankly at the staggering invoice, attempting to justify the massive expenditure to himself.

It represented a minor toll to pay in exchange for retaining his breath.

—

An environment permeated by pristine, crisp breezes.

A rejuvenating current circled through the space, its intensity grand and absolute.

Whoosh—

Yet mimicking the calm center of a tempest, the shape positioned at the axis remained completely still, his eyelids dropped halfway in deep focus.

His flaxen locks drifted softly amid the moving air, his jade-colored eyes, obscured partly by long lashes, flashing with a metallic golden radiance, his flesh smooth and luminous resembling fine white stone.

His flawlessly formed countenance, looking as though it had been shaped by a legendary sculptor, served only to intensify his divine elegance.

Following this,

The spinning vortex of natural power dissolved, and his elongated, pointed ears gave a minor twitch.

His lids parted fully at a gradual pace, exposing pupils shaped like stars.

“…Completed.”

A gentle, nearly indolent tone escaped him, a subtle curve appearing on his mouth—.

Harris Granwood, the High Elf belonging to the Elven Kingdom, raised his gaze toward the entity that had taken shape in front of his position.

Ripple— Splash—

A creature devoid of a fixed shape, emitting a gentle azure illumination, its frame twisting and turning in tandem with the soft murmurs of cascading water.

Harris observed the phenomenon for a brief span, then slowly held forth a hand.

Following a brief period of physical alignment and spiritual connection…

“…Moving forward, your designation shall be Liter.”

He offered a soft smirk, observing the fluid course across his forearm, wrapping around his frame in the manner of a serpent.

This marked the third fresh elemental entity he had bound to himself following his departure from Ganghwange, and his seventh companion in total, factoring in his pre-existing elemental spirits. He found it impossible not to experience a sense of pride.

‘The process yields incredible results.’

The unexpected gains acquired from Ganghwange, specifically the 「Gentle Eight Trigrams Secret Art (Modified)」 and the 「Natural Body」, had immensely broadened his compatibility with the wilderness.

Even amidst the ranks of High Elves, distinct persons possessed specific elemental leanings… yet the Gentle Eight Trigrams Secret Art, which aimed for absolute unity with all existence, had permitted him to transcend that boundary entirely.

‘The violent impulses I picked up during my time in Ganghwange have likewise dissolved upon my return to Auterica… Though my level of indolence has certainly magnified.’

It represented an inescapable consequence stemming from his deeper integration with the natural world.

Regardless, utilizing his newly acquired talents, his dominion now extended far beyond Watt the Lightning Spirit, Callie the Fire Spirit, Pascal the Wind Spirit, and Decibel the Sound Spirit—

…allowing him to command Hectare the Earth Spirit, Lumen the Light Spirit, and Liter the Water Spirit as well. He had transformed into an completely versatile master of elementals.

‘Furthermore, the fresh elementals are developing at an incredible pace. Each one advanced to the Intermediate-rank the moment our bond was sealed, and Hectare, the initial entity I bound, already stands on the threshold of the Advanced-rank.’

Under normal parameters, elemental entities and their masters advanced in tandem… but such conventional wisdom failed to apply to an anomaly like himself, a person defined entirely by deviations from the norm.

“…You have managed it once more. By what method are you accomplishing these feats?”

While Harris remained immersed in his reflections, a female voice, laden with deep respect, resounded from a position behind him.

Shapiron, a youthful Elf distinguished by her deep blue eyes and matching blue locks, remained crouched upon the turf, clutching a container for food constructed from woven tree lining.

“Hmm, one could perhaps state that I experienced a… sudden moment of enlightenment. Providing an explicit breakdown eludes me. The connection simply manifested.”

“…The distribution of talent in this world is profoundly biased…”

She formed a slight pout, whispering her annoyance quietly.

When Harris initially made his appearance within the Elven Kingdom, his skills placed him merely at the tier of a novice elementalist, struggling to direct even a solitary Low-rank Lightning Spirit.

Meanwhile, she had already established herself as a premier pupil, fully capable of calling forth Intermediate-rank entities.

‘Yet at present… ’

The entities under his command had progressed at a dizzying velocity, as though they were being sustained by some form of supernatural stimulant, and he had successfully formed alliances with the elements of Fire, Wind, and Sound.

Even her own sire, Rapori, a prominent High Elf, maintained dominion over a mere three elemental types!

‘And currently, his command extends to seven?’

Even the reigning Monarch, who held sway over five distinct elements, was viewed as a phenomenal marvel… making a count of seven virtually unprecedented in history.

And nothing indicated that he intended to conclude his efforts at this stage!

‘My own capabilities still limit me to a solitary Advanced-rank elemental… ’

Even such an achievement was viewed as evidence of incredible talent for someone of her winters.

The elite Forest Guardians, veterans of the master tier, commanded only Highest-rank elementals.

Naturally, being confined to a solitary element constituted a vulnerability… yet she remained a highly prized asset, possessing sufficient power to be classed among the elite forces post-graduation.

‘…What does any of it matter?’

Yet it fell short of satisfying her desires.

The benchmarks she measured herself against had been elevated to an absurd degree, courtesy of a particular individual.

There was a time when she viewed him in the light of a competitor.

‘Will the status of a High Elf ever be within my reach?’

She offered a silent groan, a wave of hopelessness rolling through her thoughts.

As she remained mired in her feelings of inadequacy…

Pat—

…A palm descended softly upon her crown.

Surprised by the touch, she raised her gaze and blinked in confusion, taking in Harris’s features directly above her.

She had scarcely anticipated such an action from his quarter. He routinely shied away from physical intimacy, dedicating the vast majority of his hours to a state of relaxed detachment.

In truth, Harris felt significantly more disoriented by the choice.

‘…What phrasing ought I to employ here?’

He had extended his limb to offer solace, noting her dispirited countenance… yet he lacked proficiency in handling such delicate social encounters.

His existence had unfolded entirely apart from the practice of offering comfort to others.

Within this particular context, any statement he uttered risked projecting an air of arrogance.

‘Hold on, I recall hearing that females harbor a distaste for having their styling disrupted.’

He froze instantly, and then, pulling to mind a random fragment of trivia gathered during his travels, swiftly pulled his hand back, identifying his blunder.

With his limb suspended in an uncoordinated fashion and his gaze shifting rapidly across the area, an uncomfortable grin formed on his face as he attempted to ease the tension.

He bore no resemblance to a celestial entity or an unapproachable master of transcendence.

He appeared merely as a socially clumsy young man, entirely uncertain of how to communicate properly with another person.

“Pfft!”

Shapiron, whose gaze remained fixed upward on his form, found herself unable to suppress a sudden burst of laughter.

‘…He has turned out to be somewhat… ridiculous.’

It struck her as entirely pointless to continue wallowing in her low spirits.

It failed to remedy her underlying dilemmas, but it succeeded in brightening her internal disposition.

Setting down the container of food she had been gripping, she directed her attention toward Harris.

“…I carried some refreshments along. Would you care to partake?”

“…Very well.”

She herself possessed no great mastery over social protocols either.

—

An unpopulated, mountainous territory.

Crack—

An unusual acoustic phenomenon resonated through the silent atmosphere.

A slender fracture, manifest out of nowhere within the vacant air currents.

The phenomenon gradually widened, pairing with a delicate snapping noise—.

Crackle!

…And subsequently a miniature fragment separated completely, forging a microscopic puncture in the sky.

From that specific location, the structural failure expanded at a rapid pace.

Crack—!

However, the progression proved short-lived. The spreading fracture reached a sudden halt, thereafter beginning to contract.

Wooong—

Resembling a process of autonomous mending occurring instantly, the warped coordinates of space reverted to their standard alignment.

The slender, microscopic fissures dissolved entirely, and the more pronounced splits receded from view.

Only a puncture matching the dimensions of a small coin persisted at the focal point.

And even that feature underwent a gradual reduction in scale.

“…An unfortunate outcome. The threshold was nearly crossed.”

A vocalization sounded from the opposite side of the diminishing aperture.

A peculiar tone, simultaneously distinct and spectral, potent yet fragile, resisting any definitive classification.

“Nonetheless…”

The voice persisted, its volume descending to a bare whisper,

“This marks the final location.”

…Following that solitary, concluding remark, the spatial tear dissolved entirely, and absolute quiet reclaimed the landscape.

The isolated peaks stood still, bearing no evidence of the disruption.

The interval of stillness preceding the outbreak was drawing to its close.