Chapter 305

Chapter 305

The absurd misunderstanding vanished in a fleeting instant.

We proceeded to have a gravity-filled conversation regarding the “future.”

Our discussion stretched until the break of dawn, and once the dust finally settled, Leodis exited the chamber bearing an expression of contentment (?) across his features.

No, he paused right at the threshold and tossed one final remark back at me.

“In truth…

“Yes?”

“Rana would be far too pitiable a match for you. It brings me genuine comfort that our talk concluded so smoothly.”

Good grief… who ever suggested that anyone desired such a thing?

I directed a chilly glare at the door Leodis had just departed through, though only for a brief moment.

Left by myself in the chamber, I quietly pondered the dialogue we had just shared.

The phrase Leodis used, “the talk concluded so smoothly,” was something I could actually concur with.

In fact, I had little option but to concur.

“…It beats having my core shattered into pieces, at least.”

Naturally, if things had concluded with nothing more than preserving my core, I would likely be muttering curses under my breath this very second.

The reason I refrained from doing so was that I, too, had gained something substantial from that exchange.

Yes, that was exactly it.

The “privileges” referenced here denoted absolute authorization to employ the Light of Healing, and Leodis had framed it in precisely that manner.

I would become the sole mage permitted to utilize Healing without possessing the Blandoga lineage.

To put it differently, I was now free to invoke the Light of Healing without constantly worrying about prying eyes… Though a hidden catch lingered within those words.

‘The sole mage.’

That implied that if I ever passed the Light of Healing down to another individual, I would find myself in catastrophic trouble.

In essence, he was tethering me to a relationship of absolute exclusivity.

Very well, setting aside those somewhat unsettling undertones, from my perspective, it stood as an unexpectedly lavish proposal.

After all, permitting an outsider to wield the Light of Healing was equivalent to shattering the ancient Blandoga customs.

A custom preserved for centuries at the absolute minimum, and millennia at the maximum.

‘…Even a patriarch would waver when confronted with that.’

Therefore, what exactly was Leodis seeking to gain that made him willing to shoulder such a massive burden?

• I would like the Art of the Celestial Origin.

  Are you intrigued by the Art of the Celestial Origin? There is no reason to hesitate.

  ‘They were going to wrench it from me by force regardless.’

  Ah, and “wrenching” in this context did not pertain to my core.

  Even if I chose to decline, Leodis could simply acquire it by utilizing Hazen.

  Furthermore, this was ultimately for the benefit of Decullan.

  Pardon? How exactly is surrendering a secret art to an entirely different house beneficial to Decullan?

  What an utterly foolish question!

  “The core secret art represents the very heart of a house. To master it signifies inheriting the true spirit of that house.”

  And now, Blandoga had mastered the secret art belonging to Decullan.

  What did that signify?

  It signified that Blandoga was inheriting the very spirit of Decullan.

  It meant that Decullan had effectively integrated Playaga without spilling a solitary drop of blood, all because of me.

  Yet my benevolence did not conclude there.

The brat living next door, the woman washing clothes down by the river, the town drunk who does nothing but consume alcohol all day, even the neighbor’s mixed-breed hound.

Every single one of them masters the secret art of Decullan.

I, we.

An entire world bound together by the secret art of Decullan.

What occurs after that?

“Continental unification achieved through secret arts.”

Ah, is there truly any method to elevate Decullan further? If there is, by all means, step forward!

I will bash your skull in before you even manage to open your mouth.

However, the celestial origin that Art Leodis yearned for was not that generic version.

• From what I can perceive… you are currently practicing the Art of the Celestial Origin. Correct?

• Entirely accurate, however…

• What I desire is the specific Art of the Celestial Origin that you personally practice.

  Your individualized version, fully imbued with your distinct mental imagery.

  He must have deduced that I was practicing it based on our recent clash… Or was he simply overstepping his bounds?

  Regardless of the case.

  It presented a highly intricate demand for me.

  Why?

  “…I do not truly understand myself.”

  I had poured mental imagery into the Art of the Celestial Origin while constructing my second and third circles, yet I possessed absolutely no understanding of what those images truly comprised.

  I could only infer that it was something deeply familiar to me, given that the art functioned without a single flaw.

  …Truthfully, I was incredibly anxious.

  I feared he might literally tear my heart out if I claimed I did not know.

  But Leodis took my delicate predicament into account with immense grace.

• Instilling mental imagery is a daunting task, but recognizing what already resides within is not nearly as difficult.

  I can afford to wait for however long it takes.

  I highly doubted it was as effortless as he made it sound.

  Even so, it is far from a disadvantageous arrangement for me.

  And with that.

“…Hm.”

My gaze drifted toward the morning sunlight that gently tickled my eyes.

Far away, past the edge of the horizon, the darkness retreats while a brilliant yellow radiance saturates everything in view.

A solitary notion drifted through my consciousness.

‘Surrendering what belongs to me is not terribly difficult.’

However.

From Lortel all the way to Blandoga, and even Muspellun sunbae.

From the start, I had intended to stock the magic tower with every single secret art I managed to acquire, entirely without discrimination…

Lately, I felt as though I was drifting further and further away from that specific path.

Why was that?

It came down to a matter of personal relationships.

‘If I store the secret art of Blandoga inside the tower…!’

Setting Leodis completely aside, would I truly be able to sustain the exact same bond with Damian?

‘Or if I obtain the secret art of Lortel and preserve it…’

His blade would undoubtedly point directly toward the tower.

Muspellun sunbae… well, he would likely just laugh it off and deliver a swift smack to my head, so that much is fine, but constructing the tower meant that every relationship I had carefully fostered could ultimately collapse into absolute ruin.

If I chose to omit the secret arts of those noble houses with whom I had formed deep connections…

Could that even be considered a tower at all?

I was entirely uncertain.

This was a matter I would need to contemplate deeply in the days ahead.

Even so, I felt a sense of gratitude. For not entirely losing the original purpose I held when I first chose to build the tower.

And I felt cautious. Knowing that once I ascended the throne, I might lose that pure intent and transform into just another typical noble house.

And I mused…

…This overly sentimental version of myself.

It was not terrible in the slightest.

Shortly after, I found myself confronting an adversary who was every bit as daunting.

“I overheard the entire thing.”

“Pardon?”

“The magic tower and the Second Black and White Slums.”

Damian materialized with a massive grin stretching from ear to ear, striking me squarely in the solar plexus with his words.

I cast a swift glance toward Evelyn, who had accompanied him, wondering if she had accidentally let something slip, but she showed no signs of guilt.

“…The patriarch must have informed you.”

“Mmhmm.”

Ah, there was absolutely nothing to be done about that.

Ultimately, Damian was the young patriarch of Blandoga. He possessed every right to be privy to such information.

Yet there was one detail I had completely failed to anticipate.

“My friend, do you recall? My birthday.”

“…Birthday?”

Hold on, when exactly was Damian’s birthday?

Roughly around this time, I calculated.

But why bring up birthdays out of nowhere?

“Are you requesting a present?”

Damian shook his head in response to my query.

“You genuinely do not recall?”

“……?”

“In that case, give me a brief second… Ahem, hm.”

Damian suddenly cleared his throat with great intent. His eyes promptly grew dull and lifeless, resembling a decayed goblin, as though he were mimicking someone specific.

And just who was he mimicking?

…Me.

“I possess this tower, correct? I shall grant you an entire floor.”

“What in the world…?”

He actually remembered that? Just a random, throwaway sentence? No, wait, when did I ever specify the top floor?

I stared at Damian in sheer disbelief, and shortly after, a voice spoke up.

“Uh… I am not entirely certain about the highest section, but yes, he definitely stated he would grant you one.”

“Aster, did you truly utter those words?”

I was entirely speechless.

Because the truth was, I had.

“My friend, I believe the moment has arrived to deliver on that particular vow.”

I could only marvel at the radiant beam on Damian’s face.

‘…He is completely serious.’

Damian possessed every intention of claiming his prize.

Consequent to that, I found myself unable to construct a reply, merely letting the seconds tick away, until Ransi unexpectedly came to my rescue.

“The evening meal is prepared.”

“Ah, sustenance. Yes, nourishment is of critical importance. I have gone an entire day without a single bite, so I am absolutely famishing. How about we all proceed to eat?”

I bolted out of the chamber like a goblin who hadn’t seen food in four long days. Piercing, icy glares trailed after me from behind.

A sharp tingling sensation pricked the nape of my neck, as though it might combust, but if it succeeded in extracting me from that predicament, there was nothing I wouldn’t do.

Putting that aside for a moment.

Tch, now that I reflect upon it, Damian’s birthday was rapidly approaching once more.

It is small wonder that the travel schedule felt so poorly timed.

It appears we will be hosting the birthday celebration the exact moment we arrive back at the Blandoga estate… What on earth should I present to him this time around?

Eh, that is a dilemma to fret over at a later date.

Even so.

‘Even so, I am truly grateful.’

In all honesty, the instant Damian brought up the tower, my mind spun in frantic circles trying to figure out how to explain it, from where to start to where to finish.

In any event.

Weighed down by a measure of guilt and hidden truths, I had agonized over the impending explanation, yet Damian interacted with me as though absolutely nothing out of the ordinary had transpired.

Just like he always did.

‘Though he truly does desire that floor.’

He had also displayed genuine thoughtfulness.

Filled with appreciation for that fact, I finished consuming the meal.

Fortunately, neither Damian nor Chenbi persisted in digging for more details regarding the tower.

It was as though the tower and the Second Black and White Slums were matters of minor consequence between us.

Thanks to their restraint, I brought the remainder of the itinerary to a highly pleasant conclusion.

It did not quite match the brilliance of the opening day, but it remained thoroughly enjoyable nonetheless.

…And so.

The final evening before our journey back to Blandoga arrived.

We found ourselves on the exact same terrace from the first day.

“Spirits… spirits. Alcohol is so… exceedingly delicious. Wouldn’t you agree, Chenbi?”

“E-Evelyn. You have consumed far too much. You are completely intoxicated.”

I had attempted to craft a non-alcoholic cocktail, but she had apparently introduced a potent spirit by mistake, and now Evelyn was slurring her speech heavily, her face flushed a deep crimson.

Chenbi was actively teasing her, while I merely observed the spectacle and shook my head in resignation.

‘Evelyn did that entirely on purpose.’

Whatever the case, it was of no concern to me.

Chenbi was the one enduring the hardship.

Thus, the former hound transformed into human shape, the guardian tasked with supervising the hound, along with myself and Damian.

The four of us lounged upon the terrace as the sun dipped below the horizon, savoring the final instances of our journey.

What a magnificent sight it was!

A deep crimson sunset, the ocean glittering brilliantly within the fading afterglow. And the companions surrounding us.

Perhaps that was the reason.

Even without a single drop of alcohol entering my system, I felt a wave of lightheadedness wash over me, completely captivated by the vista.

Summer in the coastal territory of Cocartana, Kotana. This exact day, this specific scene… I might genuinely never cast it from my memory.

No, I will absolutely never forget it.

“Yes?”

“Let us cross paths again at some point.”

I remained entirely hushed for a moment.

…Damian’s voice carried a notably heavier resonance than it had previously. The significance embedded within “at some point” likewise carried a vastly different weight.

Perhaps that was why.

“…Yes, let us do exactly that.”

A breezy, unburdened reply.

Likely because… Damian had already absorbed so much of the burden on my behalf.

With that thought, I flashed a smile that matched the lightness of the weight Damian had willingly carried.

I refrained from glancing back, but Damian was undoubtedly smiling as well.