Chapter 751

Chapter 751
Ghislain chimed in with a casual tone, questioning, “Is it truly possible that he’s something on the level of a Spirit King?” He wasn’t asking out of any real conviction; he didn’t actually buy into the idea. However, the mere thought of it—if it happened to be true—was undeniably thrilling.

Iralniel gave Ghislain a look of pure bewilderment. “Absolutely not.”

“I figured as much,” Ghislain replied.

“How did you even encounter this… spirit-like entity?” she asked.

Ghislain offered a shrug. “It was purely by accident. He doesn’t hail from the Spirit Realm; he resides within my own mind. His method of wielding power mimics that of a spirit, but he has no memories and is clueless about his own origins.”

Iralniel turned her focused gaze toward Dark. The small being locked eyes with her in a brief, silent confrontation before eventually averting his gaze.

“You have no recollection of your past? How intriguing,” Iralniel remarked. “Grant me a moment to investigate.”

She reached out and lifted Dark into her palm. He kept his face turned away, looking thoroughly annoyed. “The audacity… treating me like some common trinket,” he muttered. Though his grumbling was audible to everyone present, they all chose to ignore him.

Iralniel rested a finger atop Dark’s head and began a soft incantation. “Spirits of slumber and visions, answer my summons. Unlock the gateways to the veiled realm and traverse the space between the eternal and the fleeting.”

A soft, swirling radiance gathered around her hand before sinking into Dark’s form. Dark immediately fought back, his will clashing violently with the power probing his mind. Being a creature composed entirely of willpower, his defenses against mental intrusion were formidable. He was capable of shattering the illusions of even a 7th-Circle sorcerer.

“How dare you attempt to scavenge through my thoughts!” Dark snapped.

Even though Dark was anchored to Ghislain’s consciousness, they remained distinct individuals. Just as Ghislain could wall off his thoughts from Dark, the spirit could do the same. Without mutual consent, neither could peer into the other’s private mind. Even with permission, the connection offered only a fleeting glimpse. Their fundamental natures were too different to ever truly merge; to do so would mean the end of their individual existences.

“Interesting…” Iralniel noted, looking impressed. The mental fortification was remarkably robust. She knew that forcing her way through could cause irreparable harm to both of them. She shifted to a gentler tone. “You claim to be ignorant of your identity. If you permit it, I would like to explore your subconscious.”

“Hmph…” Dark turned his head further away, but it was a silent gesture of agreement. Deep down, he was just as desperate to know the truth of his existence.

The spirit of dreams then delved deep into Dark’s mind. It was the same technique Iralniel had employed on Ghislain after the incident with Ereneth, but this time she was diving into the profound depths of the subconscious. Usually, a being’s subconscious serves as a “world” reflecting their essence. Ghislain had once revealed his own—a grim, blood-soaked wasteland.

However, as Iralniel searched, her expression clouded with confusion. “This… this shouldn’t be possible.”

Inside Dark, there was a total vacuum. It was a void so absolute that even the concept of silence felt absent. No light, no color, no history, no sentiment—nothingness. She scanned the darkness repeatedly. Even a common beast would have more of an internal landscape than this. Even with amnesia, a subconscious world should exist, yet this place was barricaded. It was a vault so perfectly sealed that even its owner was locked out.

Iralniel suddenly understood. “His memories aren’t just gone; they are sealed away with incredible complexity and power.” A hint of caution touched her eyes. Who possessed the strength to do this, and what were they trying so desperately to hide?

The spirits Iralniel had invoked hammered against the wall of shadow, but it was unexpectedly resilient. It was like a flawless barrier that refused to let even a sliver of light through. Narrowing her eyes, she channeled more power into her touch.

A muffled boom echoed through the mental space. The darkness buckled, and a microscopic fracture appeared. A tiny ray of light managed to seep through the gap.

“Keeeeaaak!” Dark’s eyes flew open as he let out a piercing wail.

“Tch…” Iralniel immediately withdrew her hand. Pushing further would have risked damaging his psyche. “…So, it goes that deep.”

She exhaled slowly and composed herself. Despite the briefness of the contact, she had caught a scent—the unmistakable essence of a spirit. But within that essence lay a fathomless well of grief and agony that defied description.

Opening her eyes, she addressed the group. “It is hard to fathom, but he is indeed a spirit.”

Ghislain was stunned. “Truly? He’s a genuine spirit?” He had used the term only because he lacked a better one. He hadn’t expected it to be technically accurate; he’d assumed Dark was just some anomalous entity. But now, Iralniel had provided official confirmation.

“Yes. I cannot identify his specific type, but I sensed a fragrance unique to spirits. However, it wasn’t just one… it was the essence of countless spirits combined.”

“Countless? How is that possible?”

“It felt as though the core of every elemental type—fire, water, wind, earth, light, and shadow—was layered within him,” Iralniel explained.

“But Dark is a single individual,” Ghislain countered.

“That is the mystery. It appears this spirit has been fundamentally altered or perhaps corrupted. The barriers surrounding his mind are too dense to see any further.” She shook her head. “His identity remains a mystery for now, as the seal on his memory is absolute. But for a moment, I felt a terrible sorrow. He has endured something horrific.”

Ghislain turned to Dark. “Do you remember being sad?”

“No.”

“Are you in any pain?”

“Not a bit.”

Ghislain let out a sigh. Sadness simply didn’t seem to fit Dark’s abrasive personality. Yet, if his mind was under lock and key, who knew what the future would reveal?

Iralniel smiled at the small creature. “Should he ever recover those memories, he could become something truly magnificent. Such a concentration of elemental essences cannot be an accident.”

Dark puffed out his chest, wings fluttering. “Do you see? This is proof! I am the Spirit King! Once my power returns, you’re all in big trouble!”

Iralniel added smoothly, “Of course, it is also possible that once the seal breaks, you will find you are nothing at all. Perhaps merely the discarded refuse of a more powerful entity.”

Dark went silent, the wind taken out of his sails. Being the Spirit King was a glorious thought, but being “thrown-away trash” was a bitter pill to swallow. He quickly rejected the notion. “I had to be someone important! I was definitely the sovereign of all spirits, the master of every element!”

Ghislain asked Iralniel with some doubt, “Does such a spirit even exist? One that commands all elements?”

“Not in any record I know. But the Spirit Realm is vast and full of secrets even I haven’t uncovered. There may be beings beyond our understanding.”

“I see. But you are certain he is a spirit?”

“Undoubtedly. His origin is tied to that world.”

Ghislain nodded, satisfied. On this continent, Iralniel’s word on spirits was law. He wondered if she would have seen more if she could sense Dark’s true aura, but currently, Dark’s form was sustained by Astion’s mana. It was a power similar to that of the Salvation Order but distinct enough that Iralniel couldn’t quite place it.

As Ghislain pondered, the spirits following Julien began to drift toward Dark. They hovered around him with a strange, intense curiosity. It wasn’t just interest; they seemed to want to merge with him, seeking to blend their essences into his.

This clearly grated on Dark’s nerves. “Get lost! How dare you minor spirits try to get cozy with the Spirit King!”

The spirits recoiled in fright, hiding behind Julien, though they continued to peek at Dark with fascination. Ghislain noticed Dark seemed unusually prickly.

“What’s wrong with you? Why are you so cranky?”

“I don’t know. I just feel… wrong. I’m going back in.”

Dark couldn’t explain it. The ancient trees, the elves, and the hovering spirits filled him with a strange melancholy. The closer the spirits got, the heavier the gloom became. He retreated back into Ghislain’s mind, almost as if he were seeking shelter.

Iralniel observed his departure. “He possesses a very unique temperament. Typically, spirits mirror the soul of their summoner.”

“He’s been like that from the start,” Ghislain noted.

“The seal cannot be broken by force,” Iralniel continued. “But in time, the right catalyst may cause it to fail. We can only wait. Is there anything else you require?”

“You have done more than enough. I have the Blessing Stone, and my comrade has gained a spirit companion. Many of my doubts have been cleared. Thank you, for everything.” Ghislain gave a respectful bow.

With their goals achieved, the group spent one last night as guests of the elves. They were treated to exotic fruits and forest herbs. Though the mercenaries missed their usual meat-heavy diet, the atmosphere was warm and celebratory.

The following morning, as the party prepared to leave, the entire elven community gathered to see them off. Iralniel smiled at Ghislain. “I wish you success on the path ahead.”

“Thank you. Expect a visit from me again,” Ghislain said with the easy familiarity of a friend. Iralniel found his lack of pretense refreshing. Among humans, his honesty was a rare treasure, and she had grown quite fond of him.

She then looked to Deneb. “You possess great potential. Use your gifts wisely. I have placed the Blessing Stone in your care because I trust your spirit.”

“I won’t let you down, High Chief!” Deneb replied with newfound fire in her eyes. Even though her power had returned to its baseline, the trial had hardened her resolve.

As they were turning to leave, Ghislain noticed Ereneth standing nearby, looking dejected. He tried to remember when exactly she had joined them in his past life’s memories. He knew they had stood side-by-side during the Great War—he had seen it in his visions—but the specific beginning of their journey was a blur.

Following his intuition, he asked, “Ereneth, do you want to come with us?”

“What? Me?” she stammered.

“Sure. Didn’t you say you wanted to see the world? Now that the High Chief has tasked us with the Blessing Stone, it’s the perfect excuse for you to tag along, isn’t it?”

Ereneth looked tentatively toward Iralniel, needing her leader’s blessing to leave their ancestral home. Iralniel looked at Ghislain with a knowing smirk. He had seen right through Ereneth’s desires. She gave a small nod. “Ereneth, you should go.”

“But… I…”

“It is alright. I know where your heart lies. We can no longer keep your spirit confined to these woods.”

“Iralniel…”

“Go and experience the world. Learn everything you can. These people will be good guides for you.”

Iralniel knew that if she didn’t send Ereneth off officially, the girl would have eventually run away on her own. It was far better to send her with the Julien Mercenary Corps, whom she trusted.

With tears in her eyes, Ereneth bowed low. “I will become powerful… strong enough to fight in the coming war against the Demonic Realm. I will return, I promise.”

Iralniel’s smile was bittersweet. “I have no doubt you will.”

With the threat of the Demonic Realm growing, the elves needed warriors, and Ereneth’s combat talent was unmatched among her kin.

Ghislain grinned at the new arrangement. “Welcome to the team, rookie.”

“Hmph. I know how humans use that word,” Ereneth snapped, her pride returning. “I am a noble elf; don’t expect me to be doing your chores.”

Ghislain found her feisty attitude hilarious—it was so different from the battle-hardened version of her he remembered. “Right, right. Whatever you say. Let’s move out and find the next Blessing Stone.”

With Ereneth added to their ranks, the Julien Mercenary Corps began their march. Iralniel watched them until they were mere specks on the horizon. She looked down at her weathered, wrinkled hands.

“The time approaches…” she whispered to the wind. “The responsibility of the World Tree must pass to the next generation.”

And she knew that the child who would eventually return—tempered by the storms of the world and stronger than any before her—would be the one to carry that burden.