Chapter 203

Chapter 203

Chapter 203 – One in the Morning, Two in the Afternoon

I left the invisible wyvern—no, spirit—behind and focused on looting Baharmut.

A good portion of it was burned down during my pursuit of Infernal, but I still managed to recover a good amount of loot.

“Phew, if it were up to me, I’d keep it all…”

There is an old saying: greed is the enemy.

I wanted to fill my subspace until it burst, but hoarding too much usually backfires.

Besides, the most important item from Baharmut was still pending.

‘The fragment of the cursed grimoire.’

The piece suspected to have come from Reverse Heaven.

According to Gaias, extracting it required a specific procedure, and it was about time to head back.

Anyway, I returned to the battlefield.

Damian, who had already composed himself, greeted me.

“My friend! You’re back? Look at this.”

“…?”

Damian smiled radiantly as he showed me something, and I couldn’t hide my surprise.

Glimmer—

As he waved his hand, a silhouette rose into the air.

The fuzzy outline gradually became distinct until it took the shape of a small turtle.

“This is…”

“Its name is Bish. It has the wind attribute. It wanted to be my friend, so I said yes.”

“…Bitch?”

“Yes, Bitch.”

Had Damian… contracted a spirit?

Stunned and speechless, I heard Lord Mysern’s voice in my ear at that exact moment.

“It seems it took a liking to Damian. Even I was shocked. To think a spirit would want to form a pact with him… Ahem.”

The senior Lord Mysern cleared his throat awkwardly, clearly surprised as well, but I quickly regained my composure.

‘Yeah, it’s not impossible.’

Think about it.

To the spirits, we are their saviors.

So what?

‘Of course they are grateful.’

Damian contracting a spirit wasn’t all that surprising.

‘Even so, a contract, huh…?’

Recalling something I had forgotten, I observed the scene.

The ruined battlefield. Floating above it were countless orbs of light. Far too many to count. I turned to the senior Mysern.

“How many spirits are there here in total?”

“Hmm… I’d say more than ten thousand ranks.”

“Ten thousand…”

“Why?”

“No reason. Even for me, ten thousand is a bit much…”

“…?”

It was a real predicament.

I arrived at Baharmut dreaming of ten thousand slaves… no, spirits. But facing that number in real life left me dazed.

‘If each one eats even a single moonlight stone, that’s a fortune.’

No, forget the stones.

If they all start talking, my head is going to explode.

It’s time to get serious.

How to handle ten thousand spirits? A solid system is needed.

‘Like an army: ten-man squads, hundred-man captains, thousand-man commanders?’

Not a bad idea.

The final orders come from the commander of the ten thousand: distribute the moonlight stones to them; they will handle the matter.

“Five thousand stones should be enough.”

Those who are left out might complain, but that’s fine. The commander takes the responsibility, passes it down to the thousand-man commanders, and so on.

I’ll just do favors every now and then for the most forgotten ones to win their goodwill.

‘Perfect.’

Yes, perfect.

With my plan already laid out, I took a step forward.

“Alright, I’m ready.”

“…?”

“One moonlight stone in the morning, two in the afternoon—that’s the deal. First come, first served: two in the morning and one at night.”

Even to me, it sounded like a very attractive offer.

Not that I intended to fulfill it.

I never said when, just that I would give them out when I could. Kind-hearted people would understand.

Anyway, I cast the bait and imagined the looming tower.

Ten thousand spirits… no, spirits piled up to the sky. It would go down in continental history.

Not like those cliché founding myths, where legitimacy is proven by the choice of a dragon or the sword of a lake goddess.

This was real: ten thousand spirits.

But why…

“…?”

I tilted my head at the eerie silence.

The atmosphere? The spirits’ lights flickered as if they too were bewildered.

It was then that the senior Mysern spoke up.

“You didn’t think they gathered here to sign a contract with you, did you?”

“…?”

“…?”

“…They didn’t?”

That’s what I imagined.

The job is done, what else is keeping them here?

They had revived everyone they could, and it wasn’t a farewell party.

It was then that…

“Sigh…”

Lord Mysern let out a deep sigh.

“What do you intend to do with spiritual contracts?”

“Well… wouldn’t it be nice to form a friendship?”

“I doubt it.”

Right. Wrong.

But I couldn’t say that in front of them, so I gave them an innocent smile. Then the senior Mysern spoke.

“I have no idea what you were expecting, but… the spirits say you need to take something. They have gathered to give it to you.”

“Take something…”

The fragment of the cursed grimoire? I couldn’t get any details. They remained silent.

“…”

I looked back at the spirits.

Is that why they were here?

“Are you okay?”

Lord Mysern said something, but I didn’t catch it. Only an empty murmur escaped me.

“Why… are there no contracts…?”

Does none of these spirits want to make a pact with me? Something is wrong.

Where are my ten thousand slaves? My tower?

“Put yourself in their shoes. Who would want to contract with you?”

“No, even so.”

It was then that Damian stepped forward.

“The master gathered them earlier and gave a speech. He told them not to ruin their lives over a bad decision.”

“…”

…Ah, that’s it.

Now the spirits’ indifference made sense.

No wonder it felt strange to me; the senior Mysern had beaten me to it.

My glare toward him intensified, but he coughed and looked away.

“Ahem. It couldn’t be helped. They just gained their freedom.”

“…”

Why is he so righteous with me but not with them?

‘…I guess it can’t be helped.’

With my chest aching with regret, I let it go.

Ten thousand slaves, the tower… all gone. Heartbreaking, but done.

…Damn it.

“Ahem. Don’t worry too much. I’ll make sure you receive good compensation. Very good.”

Do you promise?

I got his word twice and then let it drop.

That’s life.

Nothing goes your way.

As I wiped away my tears, I heard a voice.

“Aster, what’s wrong with you?”

Chenbi, she finally showed up. I shook my head; nothing.

Lord Mysern explained the situation to her, and Chenbi tilted her head.

“Huh? Aster, no spirit wants to make a pact with you?”

“…? There is one?”

Where? I looked around with wide eyes.

“No, not here. I brought one.”

“Brought… one?”

“Yes, Gaias helped. But first you have to talk to it…”

“…?”

Chenbi looked back at Gaias.

Gaias had shrunk to the size of Eiki, grooming its front paw before looking back.

Toward the dark passage.

Though it wasn’t completely dark.

A faint light peeked through the doorway.

“…?”

Staring at it, Chenbi said:

“Wyvern? Anyway, a wyvern.”

“Wyvern…?”

“Yes. Invisible, so I had Gaias track it down. Hiding in a corner of the ruins.”

“Why hide?”

“You’ll see. Go talk to it.”

I looked at Chenbi and headed toward the spirit… no, toward the wyvern.

Its light shuddered as I approached, gripped by panic. Up close, something didn’t add up.

Was it always this small?

The light was very dim now.

Much smaller than before.

That thing, the size of a palm, no longer possessed its former arrogance. Then it spoke.

[Hello, nice to meet you.]

“No fire?”

[…?]

“Just kidding.”

I broke the awkwardness with a joke and asked:

“Why did you shrink?”

[I fought… with all my strength. Almost… went away. Poof!]

Ah, so while the others were cheering it on, this one pushed itself, exhausted itself, and nearly vanished.

“But why hide?”

[I scared.]

“Of what?”

The wyvern murmured dejectedly, and I understood.

[Humans. Like strong spirits.]

“And?”

[Now I weak.]

“So?”

[Friend… now hate me.]

The humans it knew preferred strong spirits, so it assumed I would abandon it now that it was weak.

“Hmm…”

I stared at the dragon.

It looked at me sideways, its light flickering nervously. Soon it spoke.

[Weak… okay?]

A pitiful trembling.

I nodded my head.

“No.”

[…!]

Spirits must be strong. That’s for the best, to stack the tower higher, further.

But.

“You don’t have to be strong.”

[…!]

A single word, and its light shuddered: from heaven to hell.

A moment ago, the world was lost; now, a hole in the broken, raging sky.

[T-then…]

“Let’s make a contract.”

[…! R-really?]

“Of course.”

Strong spirits are the best. But that is just my desire.

What matters is the spirit itself.

‘Especially since…’

I observed the dragon closely.

Chenbi said that in hundreds of futures, it stayed with me until the very end.

It obtained the freedom it yearned for, but it contracted anyway, added what little power it could, and then was horribly erased by Infernal.

What more words are needed?

“Wyvern as a name?”

[I… Wyvern!]

A single word, and it perked up, its light bright and intense.

I smiled faintly.

‘At least… one.’

They say one strong spirit beats ten thousand slaves.

I believe it.

Wyvern will be a great companion, and in time, it will become a great spirit that stands towering all on its own.

That is the power of friendship.

Or whatever.