18 – Unbelievable

“Bbrreeh.”

Gazing at the sprite nestled in my arms, letting out a small burp, I couldn’t hide my bewilderment.

If it were a normal orb, perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad.

But to blithely swallow an orb containing the absolute zenith of human negativity, of course, I was worried.

Just in case, I turned the sprite upside down and gave it a good shake.

“Myaaang.”

It only let out a strange noise but didn’t regurgitate the orb.

Looking upon that spirit, I hesitated for a moment, then quickly shook off my doubts.

‘It doesn’t seem to be in pain, or changed for the worse, so there shouldn’t be any problems.’

Besides, the Sun Spirit was surprisingly perceptive.

It wouldn’t consume something that would negatively affect it without a reason.

‘And in the original story, there were cases where people ate things related to black magic and absorbed them as power.’

It was highly likely that it was converting it into its own power.

I watched the spirit’s face become round and plump, and stroked its head, thinking it might soon grow into a higher rank.

“Mmyahang.”

It seemed a little sulky, perhaps because I’d shaken it around earlier.

But seeing it still clinging to me, it seemed to say it was still fond of me, even if it was sulking, which made me chuckle.

Just then, a woman’s voice, filled with horrified shock, reached my ears.

“H-How…? How? How? That’s impossible! How did you break it? How did you eat it? Why? How?”

Unable to accept the situation, she scratched at her face with her fingernails until blood flowed, denying reality.

Then, staring at me with a bloodied face, she took out a staff from her robes.

“I, I have to kill it and take it out. Otherwise, it’ll be a disaster. No, I have to get it out now. Now!”

Her actions evoked a murderous intent, but her essence remained that of a black mage.

As she rushed at me, she generated countless black tendrils, launching them towards me.

These weren’t just simple tendrils, it seemed.

Each time a black tendril struck the ground nearby, a melting sound echoed, and I moved to raise my mace to block them.

*Whoosh!*

An even more powerful flame than before erupted from the spirit, incinerating all the tendrils.

“H-HowwwwaaaGH!”

She screamed, a sound that tore at the air, as if she couldn’t believe she had lost the tendrils so easily and futilely.

Denying reality, she reached out towards the flames, then lowered her gaze and began to emit a laugh that sounded like a wail.

In that instant, dark attribute mana thickened the air, raising goosebumps all over my body.

Then, crawling towards me on all fours in a reversed posture, like something out of a horror film, she scattered a tremendous amount of dark energy.

I watched the black magic erupting from all directions and the dozens of black tendrils appearing everywhere, and, thinking she was putting on an interesting show, raised my mace.

“DieeeeeACK!”

Towards the grotesquely rushing figure… no, towards something that could hardly be called human, I rapidly circulated mana and the spirit’s power.

Gazing calmly at the mace that had begun to burn intensely, I lowered my gaze and slammed it hard into the ground.

Crack.

The floor spiderwebbed with fissures, a violent tremor radiating outwards, twisting the tendrils completely askew.

Normally, inflicting such a powerful shock would have been impossible.

But perhaps it was because the spirit’s power had become incomparably stronger, granting the impossible and unleashing a potent force in all directions.

‘Not bad.’

With this much, I should be able to do more.

I smoothed back my hair, watching the dark mage momentarily evade my attack with a swift sidestep, and then began to walk.

“Ah, still, I can still do more, more, more!”

Innumerable streams of dark magic poured down as I advanced.

But all of it was futilely extinguished by the spirit’s conjured wall of fire.

With each step I took, the viscous residue of dark magic scattered, turning everything to ash.

I watched her flail with her staff before me, a desperate resistance.

Then, without a moment’s hesitation, I swung my mace, ending the battle.

*

As I silently gazed down at the charred black mage,

Lorraine complimented me with admiration.

“Little Master is improving so quickly day by day. At this rate, you’ll reach lower-tier expert soon, won’t you?”

Truthfully, rather than me, it was the spirit that had incinerated everything, leading us to victory, so I offered an awkward smile to brush it off.

If the spirit hadn’t assisted, it wouldn’t have ended so easily.

Vowing to strive harder and grow even more, Lorraine pointed behind me and spoke.

“Then, shall we go check inside?”

At her words, I nodded, agreeing to do so, and pushed open the door.

The previous room felt like a giant aquarium laboratory, so I expected the interior to be just as expansive.

But what appeared was unexpectedly a narrow chamber, reminiscent of a closet.

Scanning the room covered in formulas and theories, searching for anything useful,

I discovered a single, intriguing item.

An unidentified object sealed in a black cloth.

As if locked with magic, the moment I tried to unfold the black cloth, it forcibly pushed my hand away, refusing to open.

I was about to use brute strength to tear it open, but Lorraine swiftly stopped me, grabbing my hand.

“You might damage the contents if you’re not careful, so calm down.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. So, for now, we’ll entrust this to Sir Lirelshu tomorrow.”

Lirelshu Friltanin, former Royal Magician.

Ciren’s temporary instructor, and an authority on magical studies.

Convinced that he would be able to undo the lock, I nodded and then spoke.

“Then let’s return.”

“Yes.”

Lorraine, pleased that the task was done, smiled brightly and nodded.

*

Returning to the manor, it was already late at night, the peaceful chirping of insects echoing all around.

Lorraine left, saying it was best to report on the dark mage first, and I was on my way to the room where the Royal Magician was staying, to request his assistance.

“Damian.”

Ciren, her expression blank but betraying a great sense of welcome, scampered towards me.

“You’re back now?”

Perhaps because I didn’t return last night, she greeted me with great enthusiasm, clinging to me.

Feeling guilty that I had brought her here but couldn’t give her proper attention due to my busy schedule, I nodded, deciding to have a light conversation.

“There’s been a magical achievement. Instructor Lirelshu was jumping up and down, shedding tears.”

The vocabulary was light, making me wonder if she was joking. But her expression was utterly serious, making it seem unlikely.

Feeling unsure, I decided to just suggest a walk down the corridor to Ciren.

“Let’s take a… “

“I have something to show you.”

Before I could say “walk,” Ciren grabbed my hand, saying she had something to show me, and strode forward.

Seeing this, I was reminded of the time I took Alicia to see a field of flowers, pulling her along by the hand, and smiled bitterly to myself.

Then Ciren pointed out the window and said to me.

“Pretty, isn’t it.”

Wondering what it was, I looked out to see a tree in the middle of the garden, shimmering with blue mana, evoking a sense of mystery and wonder.

The spectacle was like a work of art, and I stared at it blankly.

Ciren, in a rather triumphant voice, said to me.

“I wanted to show you this.”

“Oh… really?”

“Uh-huh.”

Just a moment ago, she was brimming with confidence, but now, seeing me silently staring at the tree, she seemed to grow uneasy.

Shiren suddenly turned meek, glancing at me nervously, tugging at my sleeve, and asking with a touch of insecurity,

“Is it…not good?”

I hadn’t even realized I was lost in thought, a jumble of things crowding my mind.

Snapping myself back to the present, I shook my head, expressing the emotion I felt directly.

“No, it’s so beautiful I was momentarily stunned.”

“Really?”

At my words, Shiren fidgeted with her fingers, glancing at me, then shyly averted her gaze, looking down at the tree.

The sight was so endearing I chuckled softly, then followed Shiren’s gaze back to the tree.

Just then, Shiren pointed to the inside of my clothes and asked a question.

“What’s that in there?”

It seemed Shiren’s prodigious magical ability had reacted to the unidentified object I’d picked up in the lab.

I took it out and showed it to Shiren in response to her question.

Shiren intently studied it before saying to me, matter-of-factly,

“I think I can undo this. Should I?”

Looking at a problem that wasn’t all that difficult, she tossed out the offer as if it were nothing.

She was a novice mage, and it felt too unreliable to entrust it to her.

But I found myself nodding, as if entranced, perhaps by her overabundance of confidence and my awareness of her talent.

Handing over the object wrapped in black cloth.

Shiren touched it lightly and told me,

“It’s done.”

She’d barely brushed it, and the lock magic was undone, she said.

Watching the black cloth softly cascade down, I was beginning to truly grasp the scope of her talent.

Bathed in the moonlight, Shiren spoke, a little triumphant,

“You promised, remember?”

The promise… she must be talking about praise.

Since I was planning to thank her anyway, I was about to express my gratitude.

But Shiren leaned in, gesturing for me to stroke her head.

A request that wasn’t difficult to grant.

I watched as Cyren was behaving that way, and in a moment I went to caress his head.

“Myaang!”

Suddenly, the spirit within my embrace sprang out, striking Cyren’s forehead with a resounding *thwack*.

“……”

Was it aggrieved for not receiving praise? Or was it simply indignant at being struck?

Cyren, his eyes now icily sunken, glared at the spirit, a tempest of fury brewing.

I, seeing the situation threatening to escalate, quickly stroked Cyren’s hair and offered a small, placating smile.

* * *

The contents within the black cloth, as suspected, were documents detailing an ‘assassination plot’.

I deemed it right to deliver these to the Head, and so I headed directly to his chambers.

While mulling over the words I would use, and the explanation for how I had discovered such a thing, a voice echoed from within.

“Enter.”

Stepping inside, the image of the Head, impeccably composed as he worked, met my eyes.

I didn’t know what kept him so busy, but I couldn’t help but feel the gravity of being the Head of the Karsaril family was considerable as I raised the documents.

The Head looked up at me, his voice devoid of inflection as he spoke.

“It seems you heard from the Housekeeper.”

Heard what? I hadn’t heard anything from the Housekeeper, I hadn’t even met him since my return and blinked back at him. The Head, seemingly puzzled, asked.

“You weren’t informed by the Housekeeper that the Northern Faction has expressed a desire to retract the annulment of the betrothal?”

At those words, a hollow laugh escaped me, born of utter disbelief.