Chapter 192

CHAPTER 192. Check This Guy Out…

Deep within the recesses of Baharmut.

The entities could not conceal their collective panic over an unprecedented turn of events.

[The Infernal? Vanquished? By what means? Incredible! Allies? Yet, terrifying.]

In their own tongue, they were expressing awe at Aster’s sheer capability in bringing down(?) the Infernal, while simultaneously re-evaluating the initial impression they had formed.

The Infernal.

It functioned as a guardian of the remnants against outside intruders, while simultaneously serving as the jailer that kept them confined.

In reality, claiming it was “protecting the ruins” sounded pleasant, but from the perspective of the spirits, the Infernal was far more dreadful than the very boundary enclosing them.

Perhaps that explained their current dilemma.

The spirits entered another round of discussions.

[The trio, perhaps not a danger? Safe? The protector is frightening. Yet, contradicts the vision. If a contradiction, then not a danger?]

The situation unfolded as follows.

In the beginning, the savior envisioned by the spirits consisted solely of Aster. However, when Aster arrived accompanied by three additional humans, the spirits deemed the newcomers to be a “risk factor.” Mycelln was counted among them, though that detail held little weight to the ethereal beings.

Their only concern was the deviation from their original “foresight.”

Furthermore, the spirits’ previous cries of “Hate—!” had actually been shrieks of terror, not directed at Aster, but because the Infernal was waking up due to the racket Aster was causing, and yet…

Observing the individuals they had labeled as a “risk factor” actively confronting that very Infernal, they were completely reconstructing their theories.

Right in the middle of that—

Sssss—

A solitary spirit suddenly expanded its spiritual mass and glided out from the crystalline sphere.

[You! Danger!]

The remaining spirits voiced their deep anxiety at this reckless move.

If it abandoned the crystalline sphere, the Infernal would surely awaken and come hunting for them…

However, Spirit 1, having chosen to act on impulse, merely dilated its form even further and gave a dismissive snort(?).

‘These fellows are nothing but cowards.’

Even after witnessing the Infernal receive such a brutal thrashing moments ago, they were still fretting like this. It was laughable. With wounds of that magnitude, wasn’t it glaringly obvious that the beast wouldn’t be taking action anytime soon?

Furthermore, their rash conclusions regarding Aster’s comrades were enough to make anyone shake their head.

Be that as it may.

Regardless of its internal monologues, Spirit 1 signaled:

[I shall be the voice.]

[You, the voice?]

[Must encounter the savior.]

[Danger!]

Though the rest attempted to hold it back, Spirit 1 paid them no mind.

Remaining passive in this manner would achieve absolutely nothing.

From the savior’s point of view, they would assume the spirits had deliberately warped the corridors and unleashed the Infernal. If that savior grew furious and abandoned the ruins altogether, what would become of them?

Therefore—

‘I am the clever one.’

Among its kind, it possessed the sharpest intellect.

‘I am the courageous one.’

And being the most daring, it had no choice but to take the initiative.

On a personal note, it also harbored a certain curiosity regarding this savior.

…Consequently, seizing the window of opportunity while the Infernal was in a state of regeneration, Spirit 1 departed from the crystalline sphere.

All for the sake of the spirits’ liberation.

Meanwhile, Aster roused himself in the early hours of the morning, satisfying his hunger with some tough dried meat and stale bread while examining his surroundings.

The chamber, lined with volumes from a completely unidentifiable epoch, was immaculate, despite lacking any apparent caretaker.

It was so pristine that it seemed as though someone had been dusting the shelves until just a few moments ago, causing Aster to quietly admire its state of preservation.

‘It doesn’t bear the traces of a magical spell… could it be the work of spirits?’

Stepping closer to a nearby shelf, Aster reached out for a random book and flipped it open. The interior pages were in flawless condition as well.

Had it been a text left abandoned for centuries, the margins would typically be brittle and discolored, but there was not a single sign of decay.

As he systematically inspected the condition of the texts—one volume after another—a voice called out to him.

“Find anything worthwhile?”

The voice belonged to Demian.

The fellow had awakened at some unknown point and was currently stuffing a macaron into his mouth—

“A macaron?”

“Yeah, a macaron. I stowed a few in my subspace pocket. What about it?”

“No, never mind.”

Even though Ransi had strictly cautioned him against consuming heavy sweets first thing in the morning, the guy had hauled them all this way just to snack on them now.

Aster cast a look of mild pity toward Demian before redirecting his attention. It was at that moment Demian pressed further.

“So, what’s catching your eye? Is it interesting?”

“It isn’t a matter of it being interesting. It simply appears to have been exceptionally well looked after.”

“Think we could fetch a high price for these?”

“…Beg pardon?”

“…What is it?”

“You actually have a brain.”

Hearing Demian’s comment, Aster’s eyes gleamed as though a completely overlooked realization had suddenly dawned on him, and he surveyed the room anew.

Initially, he had merely been intrigued by the preservation technique out of sheer curiosity.

If it wasn’t achieved through sorcery and they had employed spirits for building maintenance, acquiring that technique would prove highly useful later on when establishing his own tower.

However—

‘Liquidating these?’

How had that completely escaped his mind?

Naturally, he had no intention of actually selling them—he fully intended to hoard them inside his own tower—but Aster felt a twinge of self-reproach for failing to recognize such elementary opportunities for plundering.

Could it be that the psychological strain from the previous day had taken a greater toll on him than it had on Demian or Chenbi? …No, that was highly improbable.

At any rate.

Aster began evaluating the chamber with an entirely different perspective. He looked precisely like someone calculating exactly how many shelves he could cram into his subspace storage, and as several minutes ticked by in that fashion—

A soft murmur drifted toward him.

“…Aster?”

Recognizing the voice, Aster instantly cleared the avarice from his expression and turned around.

Chenbi stood there, his face still drained of color as if recovering from severe internal trauma, and it was only a moment before he managed to speak.

“So… it truly wasn’t a hallucination.”

A faint grin began to grace his face. His physical state was undoubtedly miserable, yet the expression written across Chenbi’s face was genuinely radiant.

Observing him, Aster gave a firm nod.

“Does this strike you as a fantasy?”

“…What?”

“Just playing with you.”

With a slight knit of his brow, Chenbi quietly scrutinized Aster.

Perhaps recognizing that he had been a bit too blunt, Aster cleared his throat uncomfortably—“Ahem, cough”—and pretended to be deeply absorbed in a book.

Yet, witnessing that display, Chenbi let out a genuinely amused chuckle.

Indeed, they say that if a person suddenly alters their core personality, their end is near—so observing Aster remain thoroughly abrasive was, in a strange way, incredibly reassuring.

And beneath that very abrasiveness, Chenbi found solace.

“…What a relief.”

Because it confirmed it wasn’t a hallucination.

Seemingly picking up on that sentiment, Demian nodded along in perfect agreement.

‘Yeah, our companion is an absolute scoundrel, isn’t that right, Chenbi?’

‘Agreed, he’s the type that probably wouldn’t even leave ashes.’

Silent, profound understandings were exchanged between the two. Amidst the ancient, dust-free bookshelves, a comforting aura of shared mischief drifted through the air.

Aster, Demian, Chenbi.

It truly was a heartwarming gathering.

Regardless, once they concluded that brief but impactful reunion following their separation, the group congregated in the center of the library stacks to initiate an urgent council of war.

The topic of discussion?

By what means do we depart from these primeval ruins?

To clarify, the individuals who initiated the topic were Demian, Chenbi, and their senior, Mycelln.

For some inexplicable reason, my own speaking privileges had been entirely suspended.

At any rate, the debate persisted for a grueling three hours, but unfortunately, not a single viable strategy came to light.

Furthermore, whenever I attempted to interject a point—

I believe it would serve us better if you remained silent, my friend.

You ought to just shut— actually, never mind. In any case, do you catch my drift?

‘Unbelievable….’

Why do they jump and lose their composure like that every single time I open my mouth?

It wasn’t as though I was preparing to propose an absurdly radical notion.

For instance, my suggestion was along these lines.

The methodology of forceful entry had already yielded proven results.

If we simply begin demolishing everything within this chamber haphazardly, wouldn’t the spirits be forced to intervene in some capacity?

With a bit of luck, we might uncover the hiding spot of those spirits while smashing the scenery, or perhaps stumble upon a hidden exit leading to the surface.

“Whew, I am drained. Let us get some sustenance down us before resuming the debate.”

“It is a genuinely perplexing riddle. To think we cannot derive a single solution.”

Ultimately, the three of them adjourned the session without achieving any breakthroughs.

My tongue practically twitched with the urge to speak as I observed the pair, but I chose to restrain myself for the time being. It was obvious I wouldn’t receive a warm reception even if I voiced my thoughts.

At any rate, after we concluded our meal and threw ourselves into the second round of discussions—

Demian, Chenbi, and Senior Mycelln were still deeply engaged in their three-way dialogue, and as I sat listening, a sudden realization struck me.

“Chenbi, don’t you think you guys are taking this a bit too far?”

“Aster, I was under the impression that civilized people possessed a sense of propriety.”

[I find myself in agreement with that remark.]

Hearing Chenbi’s frosty reply, I let out a heavy breath. Truly, there wasn’t a single soul in this place willing to take my side. Not even the spirits, appar—

“Huh?”

“What?”

Chenbi and I simultaneously detected an anomaly and whipped our heads around.

An actual spirit? A genuine spirit?

Hold on.

Rubbing my strained eyes, I carefully surveyed the immediate area. For the moment, the occupants of the room consisted of the following.

Chenbi, huddled under a thick blanket beside me, monitoring the conversation. And Demian alongside Senior Mycelln, still locked in a fiery dispute.

“Senior, perhaps we ought to contemplate establishing a permanent homestead in these ruins.”

“Demian, cease uttering such delusional nonsense.”

And while the two of them exchanged that utterly pointless banter, hovering right between them was a solitary orb of shimmering radiance.

[That concept is not entirely terrible.]

Watching the floating cluster of light offer its input so casually, I narrowed my eyes in suspicion.

Around that exact moment, Demian and Senior Mycelln also sensed that something was amiss.

“Senior, I believe my mind has finally fractured. I am witnessing hallucinations.”

“That is hardly a novelty for you, is it? But… wait, what on earth is this? Is that spirit actually communicating?”

Senior Mycelln, caught entirely off guard, locked his eyes onto the entity. Within his gaze was a mix of sheer bewilderment and astonishment that he simply could not mask.

After observing it with a trembling focus for several seconds—

Senior Mycelln took a sharp breath and finally spoke.

“…This is no ordinary elemental. Allow me to handle this for now.”

Uttering those words, Senior Mycelln shot a deliberate, cautionary glance in my direction. The look felt entirely uncalled for, but I gave a brief nod to signal my compliance regardless.

As everyone in the room held their breath—

Senior Mycelln addressed the spirit directly.

“Are you an entity belonging to these ruins? Do you happen to recognize me? I am one of the humans who reached out to you… not long ago, I even established a connection with my personal spirit.”

[The elder human, I recall.]

It indicated that it retained a memory of him.

Verifying that the spirit recognized his presence, Senior Mycelln nodded and pressed forward with another inquiry.

And that query encapsulated the exact suspicion we all harbored.

“There is something I must understand. We explicitly journeyed here at your behest, and yet… what drove you to exhibit such hostility toward us?”

He was demanding an explanation for the sequence of events that had disrupted the passages of the ruins and activated the Infernal.

In all honesty, who gave a damn about the layout of the ruins. What Senior Mycelln was truly taking issue with was undoubtedly the Infernal. They had been on the absolute precipice of a fatal disaster.

However—

The spirit paid absolutely no attention to Senior Mycelln’s grievance and darted swiftly through the air, landing squarely upon the solitary table situated among the bookshelves.

And then it declared—

[The inquiries shall begin with me.]

It asserted its right to cross-examine first.

At that display, a sharp laugh escaped my lips before I could stop myself.

‘An elemental… attempting to dictate terms?!’

No matter how one analyzed the gesture, it was a calculated move designed to seize total control of the conversation.

Witnessing that remarkably audacious display, my eyebrow twitched with irritation.

Senior Mycelln was similarly taken aback by such a transactional demeanor from a spirit.

Right in the midst of that tension—

I could feel a familiar sensation.

‘My sense of righteousness… is weeping.’

Then again, how precisely does one administer a lesson in righteousness to a spirit? According to Senior Mycelln’s knowledge, the Infernal’s hellfire was lethal to elemental beings…

As my contemplation grew heavier—

The spirit’s voice suddenly echoed directly inside my mind.

[Savior, your hidden truth is known to me.]

…It claims to know my secret?

With that single declaration, every set of eyes in the room instantly locked onto me. If the spirit claimed to harbor my secret, it was only natural that they would be deeply intrigued.

Subjected to their intense scrutiny, I allowed the corner of my mouth to curl slightly upward.

Because… the spirit was privately transmitting a message straight into my thoughts.

[The forbidden grimoire, I am aware of it. Relax the tension in your fist.]

…Would you look at this guy?