Chapter 178

The Back-Alley Mage’s Return – Chapter 178

Chapter 178. Still, You Do Love Them… a Lot, Right?

Let us take a moment to systematically review the current state of affairs.

Primary point.

“My objective is to liberate the elemental beings imprisoned within the boundary alongside Senior Mycelln.”

While this is ultimately the grand design of the wyvern, it remains a path I chose entirely of my own volition.

The genuine sincerity of Senior Mycelln struck a chord within me, and the sorrowful state of the spirits bound inside that barrier appealed directly to my innate benevolence.

Naturally, this journey was one without any concrete blueprints.

“I remain completely in the dark regarding where these spirits are confined, what actions are expected of me once we arrive, or what capabilities I even possess to alter the outcome.”

When Senior Mycelln requested my assistance, it was not because he held a high estimation of my current abilities, but simply because it aligned with the desires of the spirits themselves.

Ultimately, this meant our only recourse was to forge ahead blindly and confront the situation directly, a reality that was not worth losing sleep over.

The solitary genuine hurdle had been the location itself.

“However, that particular obstacle was cleared just a short while ago.”

With that resolved, our subsequent course of action became entirely transparent.

Accompany Senior Mycelln, liberate the elemental forces trapped within the boundary, and ensure a pool of deeply devoted subordinates to construct the spire at a later date.

That comprised the entirety of the plan.

That was all there was to it… and yet.

Now, the secondary point.

“Demian… has caught on.”

What exactly had he discovered?

He figured out that Senior Mycelln and I had met up and were secretly plotting some sort of endeavor.

Naturally, I attempted to employ some rapid problem-solving to smooth over the slip-up.

“Cut!

…?

Senior, your delivery lacks proper articulation. Performing like that, how do you ever expect to command a stage? You are well aware that the theatrical arts are not something to be approached carelessly, aren’t you?

Ahem, yes. That is quite accurate, is it not? My apologies.

Return to your position and make another entrance. This time, it would be beneficial to project a slightly more enigmatic aura.

Cough. Very well.”

The overarching narrative I spun went along these lines.

Senior Mycelln had spent his days recognized as the esteemed “Spiritist of the Cutting Wind.” Yet, his innermost aspiration was never to commune with spirits, but rather to become a theatrical performer…

The clumsy, turbulent tale of an aging Spiritist of the Cutting Wind attempting to reinvent himself on the stage in the twilight of his years!

…A concept along those lines.

I could confidently assert that the plot structure was flawless.

The theatrical draft possessed genuine emotional resonance as well.

Mycelln, a legendary champion from the conflicts of old. Even with treasure mountains high and a reputation that echoed across the vast continent, his internal state remained completely hollow.

The Spiritist of the Cutting Wind initiates the secondary chapter of his existence!

Could there possibly exist a more startling, poignant human narrative across the entire continent? From my perspective, there was none.

Regrettably, it fell entirely flat.

And what was his response?

“My friend, there are numerous things beyond my understanding.

That is common knowledge—

And when I am ignorant of something, I consult Ransi.

……

Should Ransi lack the answer, Ransi approaches Mother. If Mother is similarly clueless, she turns to Father. Yet, I possess neither a mother nor a father. Under such circumstances, what option remains for me?

You… both of your parents are perfectly healthy and alive—

Is that detail truly relevant at this moment?

……

If you intend to speak the truth, simply state it without delay.”

Consequently, the only outcome was that the blameless Senior Mycelln was forced to submerge himself and emerge from the waters three or four separate times.

In any event, this constituted Demian’s definitive leverage.

If we refused to give him a straightforward explanation, he threatened to report everything to his household.

Yet, what actual peril did that pose?

“…It does not truly present a major crisis.”

The actual issue was that it would almost certainly transform into a massive headache.

In the eyes of others, I am merely a gentle, powerless wanderer originating from the Black and White Zone.

Yet, out of nowhere, the legendary Spiritist of the Cutting Wind approaches this mere Black and White Zone drifter and proposes a joint operation to liberate trapped spirits?

Ah. Even Senior Mycelln, the very individual at the center of it, would be utterly incapable of providing a rational justification for that.

Regardless, that was the core dilemma.

If I chose to explain, “We are doing this because the spirits requested it,” it would inevitably trigger the follow-up inquiry: “What reason would the spirits have to make such a request of you?”

The moment I could only counter with, “An excellent question, isn’t it?” a barrage of skeptical and prying gazes would shadow my every move.

“…There are far too many details that I simply cannot clarify.”

It was an absolute stalemate where moving forward or retreating offered no clean escape.

Since nothing malicious was occurring, there was no foundational reason to cloak it in secrecy, yet simultaneously, declaring it openly felt… strangely uncomfortable in an indefinable manner.

Furthermore, it must be acknowledged.

Demian possessed a great deal of experience.

“My friend, I shall grant you a window of time to deliberate.

……

An epic journey always demands patience. I shall anticipate favorable updates from you.”

That calm demeanor he maintained while gracefully loosening the pressure on us.

As he walked away, the backward glance he directed toward me was brimming with absolute certainty.

Could this be the effortless composure of someone who holds all the cards? He even summoned Chenbi and departed to partake in the festivities on his journey home!

That encapsulated the entire sequence of events that had unfolded up until just moments prior.

“Therefore…”

I cast a sideways glance at Senior Mycelln, who was currently perched there resembling a completely soaked rodent, and inquired,

“Did you locate the site?”

“…You have my apologies.”

“No, do not worry about it. It was unavoidable. That individual has become remarkably more perceptive as of late, and he possesses a talent for masking his proximity. If one fails to maintain absolute vigilance, his presence can easily go unnoticed.”

“Even so, I cannot help but feel remorseful. It appears my carelessness has entangled the situation further.”

To be fair, it was undeniable that matters had grown convoluted.

In the beginning, it was an assignment we could have slipped away to handle quietly, resolved without a sound, and returned from unnoticed. Then, Demian manifested as an unforeseen barrier.

Nevertheless, I was not overly distressed by it.

“It is not as if…”

While keeping it concealed would have been ideal, even if the truth came to light, it was not as though I was guilty of any wrongdoing.

If my livelihood depended on compensation from Brando, I would have substantial cause for anxiety regarding my standing, but that simply was not the case, was it?

If I resolved to depart, I would simply take my leave.

Regardless.

“The critical issue at this juncture lies elsewhere. First, provide me with the details regarding the coordinates you uncovered.”

“Ahem. In all honesty, it feels as though I perpetually lose my dignity whenever I am in your presence. Very well, let us begin, shall I?”

Senior Mycelln cleared his throat awkwardly a few times to mask his embarrassment before proceeding with his account.

As I absorbed his words, I kept my gaze fixed upon the angling rod extending over the water’s surface, and against the background of the rhythmic sloshing of the ripples, Senior Mycelln’s words draped themselves smoothly over the scene.

To synthesize the information, it amounted to this.

“Initially… it aligns precisely with our hypotheses?”

“If I bypass the intermediate details and summarize it plainly, the intersection where the channels meet formed a colossal subterranean cavern. From that central cavity, distinct water channels branched outward toward each respective body of water.”

Thus, he had thoroughly investigated that immense subterranean void.

Consequently—

“I detected a submerged cavern.”

“What did you discover within?”

“As I attempted to draw near, a massive portal crafted of iron obstructed the path. It bore the distinct appearance of ancient architecture…”

“Did you attempt to gain entry?”

“I did not. Peculiarly, it resisted any attempt to open it. It appeared to be secured by a restrictive boundary… while my understanding of sorcery is limited, it was undeniably no commonplace barrier.”

“Hmm.”

Having received that piece of the puzzle, I systematically filed the data away in my mind.

“A restrictive boundary that even someone of Senior Mycelln’s caliber cannot breach.”

It was definitely far from an ordinary defensive enchantment.

“Under these circumstances, we can draw no definitive conclusions until we inspect it firsthand.”

Yet, an anomaly persisted.

“On another note, can we state with absolute certainty that those architectural remains are truly the destination we seek?”

“What leads you to question that?”

“You previously mentioned that the Fairy Dance causes a tremendous surge of Mana, and that intense emotional echoes are channeled directly to you. However, you have made no mention of experiencing anything of the sort regarding this location.”

To put it another way, if that specific site served as the epicenter, should there not be a palpable resonance of Mana and psychic impressions for us to detect?

However, the explanation for that particular skepticism lay in a different direction.

“Ahem. That phenomenon is not actually peculiar. Observe.”

Saying this, Senior Mycelln manifested the water spirit Eiki into visibility.

Eiki assumed the likeness of an arrogant feline, tucking its limbs beneath itself in a restful posture while silently surveying the expanse of the lake.

“Eiki.”

The elemental offered no acknowledgement. It only displayed a sign of responsiveness when Senior Mycelln retrieved a luminous moonlight stone from within his attire.

“Eiki, I request your assistance. Direct your sensory awareness toward the precise epicenter of this body of water.”

Following his instruction, I channeled my own sensory awareness toward the middle of the lake.

Immediately thereafter, a disturbance of Mana rippled through the center of the water.

“What is your assessment? Can you detect a thread linking Eiki to that particular surge of Mana?”

“…No. I perceive absolutely no connection.”

“The principles of spirit arts and conventional sorcery do not align. Spirits exist as an extension of the natural world itself. In reality, regardless of how vast the geographical distance may seem, it is never truly ‘remote.’ Presently, one could argue that this entire body of water constitutes a segment of Eiki’s being.”

Understood. That clarified the matter.

“If a visible current had been connecting the ancient structure directly to the Fairy Dance, the practitioners of magic would have uncovered the site decades ago.”

The fundamental reason the sorcerers had remained stagnant for so many years was due to their confinement within the rigid assumption that the Fairy Dance was strictly a “magical phenomenon.”

“The nature of psychic impressions follows the same logic. They do not mirror human vocalizations propelled through atmospheric vibrations.”

At any rate, that minor point of inquiry was laid to rest.

What endured now was the absolute necessity of journeying to those ancient architectural remains to liberate the elemental entities.

As my internal monologue arrived at this deduction—

“What course of action do you believe we should pursue?”

“To what are you referring?”

“Did the young master of the house of Brando not discern our intent? While we harbor no illicit motives… in truth, I would highly prefer that the prominent renowned houses remain completely ignorant regarding the existence of these spirits.”

“Out of concern that they might face subjugation and exploitation?”

“…Precisely.”

The only reason he had shared this information with me so unreservedly was due to the fact that “the spirits desired it so.”

“Hmm. How should we proceed.”

At this juncture, Demian once again manifested as a complication.

In the original draft, our strategy relied on departing under the cover of night and returning just as surreptitiously, but now that Demian possessed this knowledge, such a stealthy approach was effectively neutralized.

Therefore—what was Demian’s true objective?

“Could this be what they describe as the aroma of an adventure?”

Correct. His desire was to participate in an adventure.

Furthermore, there was an additional factor.

“Demian has no wish for his own household to discover this.”

Upon closer scrutiny, that deduction held true.

If Demian harbored no reservations about alerting his family, he would currently be loudly proclaiming the upcoming exploit and demanding that we prepare for immediate departure.

Why, then, did Demian desire to keep his household in the dark?

At this stage, drawing from my extensive expertise in the field of Demian behavior patterns, my deduction concluded…

“The house of Brando would never permit it.”

In essence, what significance did that carry?

Demian’s threats regarding informing Ransi or alerting Madam Gamo were nothing more than empty posturing.

Even so, could we simply disregard Demian entirely? No, that was a luxury we did not possess.

As I pondered further—

I recognized that the resolution lay, remarkably, in an incredibly uncomplicated place.

However, prior to articulating it, I required confirmation of Senior Mycelln’s level of commitment.

“Senior, your affection for the spirits remains… exceptionally profound, correct?”

“What prompts such an inquiry? That goes without saying.”

“In that case, for the sake of these spirits, what magnitude of sacrifice are you prepared to endure?”

The moment those words left my mouth—

Hiiiiisssss!

Eiki abruptly directed a hostile glare in my direction.

Naturally, existing as a spiritual entity, no audible sound resonated in the physical world, but had it been an ordinary feline, a piercing, sharp screech would have filled the air.

Had that wave of apprehension transferred itself to Senior Mycelln as well?

“…What are you implying?”

Senior Mycelln questioned me, his expression laced with deep apprehension.

I was genuinely perplexed by the reaction.

Why must it be that whenever I attempt to offer an observation, everyone around me becomes consumed by dread? I am a practitioner of human compassion. Furthermore, I possess a strong sense of justice.

For what possible reason, then…?

“Pfft.”

I reassembled my thoughts at that moment.

Because the immediate issue took precedence over everything else.

“Do you possess the fortitude to endure a lifetime of being hunted by the forces of Brando for the sake of these spirits? That is the fundamental question I am putting to you.”

“…Provide me with your ultimate conclusion first.”

My resolution was formulated as follows.

In reality, it did not involve anything overly elaborate.

“In the most catastrophic outcome, I am inquiring whether you are fully prepared to shoulder the infamy of being labeled as the individual who abducted the young lord.”

My reasoning was simple.

“Demian desires an epic journey?”

Then we shall grant him his epic journey.

…However, the crushing weight of the legal and social fallout would be a burden Senior Mycelln alone would have to sustain.

Having delivered that ultimatum, I brushed off my garments and rose to my feet.

“Senior, I shall grant you a window of time to deliberate.”

“…”

“Every choice demands its corresponding price. I shall await a prudent resolution from you.”

With a mere forty-eight hours remaining before the manifestation of the Fairy Dance upon Giksen Lake.

Senior Mycelln found himself standing directly at a monumental crossroads of destiny.