Chapter 50

Lir’s frenzy… no, her struggle and devoted effort, continued for nearly forty to fifty minutes. Only when her magic had been entirely drained from her slender frame did she finally stop brandishing her staff and set down her pen.

Lir still gazed wistfully at the empty air, panting heavily.

“…Hoo, haah. Hoo.”

Lir released her grip on the staff, from which calluses were just beginning to form on her fingertips, and slumped to the floor. Even an elf’s sturdy legs could no longer endure her stubborn persistence.

Despite having poured out every last drop of her magic, disappointment lingered in her eyes.

She looked almost unwilling to let go of the exhilarating feeling. As if she absolutely refused to lose this inspiration, knowing it might never return.

But inspiration, of course, never stays put.

It was as if her mind, which had been dancing in a dream, was being dragged back to reality. Slowly, she lowered her dazed eyes.

Her hands trembled. Her legs seemed immobile, frozen in place. Even her breathing was slightly ragged.

“…Shall we head back, soon?”

I ventured the suggestion, watching her, still lamenting the inspiration that had slipped away.

“Uh…”

She answered slowly, her voice languid as if on the verge of drifting off to sleep…

“Huh?!”

Jeez, you startled me.

Lir turned around belatedly, exclaiming those words.

“When, what? Huh?”

“How long have you been standing there?”

Replacing Lir’s lost tongue, I kindly re-asked the meaning. Lir, face and ears ablaze, bobbed her head emphatically.

“From the beginning.”

Truthfully, it hadn’t even been an hour, but this answer seemed much more amusing.

“…From the beginning…so you mean…”

“Throwing the pen and then going to pick it up was rather cute. A grown adult, acting like no five-year-old would…”

“aaaugh!”

As if wanting to hear no more, Lir suddenly screamed and clapped her hands over her ears.

“Suddenly getting up from writing and then headbutting a tree, what was that about? Does it make your mind work better? Once we return to the castle, I should try it sometime.”

Foolish girl, as if such an act could ever halt this one’s tongue and lips.

“And why bother piecing together the shredded parchment? Didn’t you repeat that… five times or so?”

“…”

Lir crawled clumsily toward the hat lying on the ground, promptly placing the branch- and leaf-covered thing upon her head, adopting a turtle’s posture.

“Come to think of it, did the previous draft look better than the revised one? It happens often enough, I understand.”

I surreptitiously shook the few sheets of parchment I had gathered. At that, Lir abruptly raised her head, rushing over in an attempt to snatch the parchment from my hand.

“‘Innovation and Merger, the Rule of All Things’… They say a spell is a mirror reflecting the user’s thoughts, so Lir’s head is filled with notions like this? Slightly disappointing. The Rule of All Things… Not a fifteen-year-old anymore, are we?”

“Shut up, please…!”

With Elven swiftness, she snatched the parchment from my grasp.

“Well, the revised version is a little better, I suppose. ‘Innovation and Merger. Fracturing Lightning’… Why are you so fond of the words ‘Innovation and Merger’?”

I extracted a second sheet of parchment I had saved and began to read it aloud.

I never expected that this clumsy oaf would be able to protect the parchment from an elf. That is why I gathered and concealed multiple sheets of parchment scattered on the ground.

Only with a dispassionate self-awareness and unwavering preparation can one become a truly exceptional mage…!

“Ah, please, just stop!”

Rire snatched away the second parchment I’d just produced.

Heh heh, but your humble narrator still has quite a few secret techniques left up his sleeve.

I pulled out the third, then the fourth parchment in turn, continuing to tease Rire relentlessly.

You couldn’t possibly imagine how many scrolls your humble narrator has concealed within his robes.

My assault only ceased when her earlobes flushed scarlet, and the worrisome thought arose: ‘Is she really going to cry?’

“…Enough…please…”

After teasing her for some time, Rire finally implored, her voice trembling with tears.

…Was I perhaps a little too much?

But what to do? It’s simply too amusing.

She shouldn’t give such delightful reactions. One could argue this is partly Rire’s fault, truthfully.

“Well, it was cute.”

In any case, hearing such a pitiful plea, even I couldn’t continue the torment. I dragged my trembling legs towards her.

“…Stop it.”

Even being nice, and she still complains.

I cursed Rire inwardly as I carefully lifted her hat. Though it appeared her hands were trembling, gripping the hat tightly, in truth, she had no strength left.

With the slightest gesture from me, her crimson face was fully revealed.

I removed the hat from Rire’s head, then carefully brushed away the dirt and twigs tangled in her hair. After rolling around on the ground for hours, the hat had become filthy, leaving her bright blonde hair covered in grime.

“Can you stand?”

“Carry me, please.”

“Speak reasonably.”

“…”

Lir let out a hollow laugh, as if she didn’t believe the words she’d just spoken.

To say it herself, then laugh about it… she still wasn’t quite right in the head, it seemed.

I sat down beside Lir, who was still slumped on the ground, and blankly stared up at the sky. A crescent moon faintly pierced through the clouds, stroking our cheeks. Lir’s pristine white skin, bathed in the twilight, took on a platinum hue.

“Tell me when the strength returns to your legs. We’ll walk back together.”

“…I don’t think I can get up today.”

Lir’s mouth opened and closed as if she were about to say something, then, as if reaching a decision, she slightly bit her lip and spoke.

“Huh?”

Was she serious?

I frowned and asked, taken aback by her reply.

Lir, seeing my bewildered face, blushed crimson, tinting her porcelain skin and burying her face into her robes.

“Well, I guess… we could just spend the night here.”

Lir spoke like that, still hiding her face within her robes. Her already tiny voice was muffled by the thick fabric, making it difficult to understand what she was saying unless you truly focused.

“…I’m looking forward to tomorrow morning’s roll call. Imagine the entire garrison flipping out when they realize a mage, and not just any mage, but Alter’s prized student, has vanished after waking up.”

I said, scrunching my already creased expression even further.

“…That’s true, too.”

Lir glanced at my face again, then sighed softly within her robes, and slowly attempted to stand.

“Huh? Just now you said you couldn’t get up…”

“If you walk a bit, then rest, repeating that, it should be manageable.”

Lir paused, gazing in a somewhat bizarre direction before speaking.

Seeing her efforts to avoid burdening the company, I felt compelled to offer assistance, extending my hand.

“…I’m aware this is the least trustworthy hand in the world, you know?”

“Don’t hold it if you don’t want to.”

Truthfully, I was inwardly hoping she would reject my gesture.

My own legs were trembling just the same, after all.

“No, I will hold it.”

…A pity.

Her hand was rough. Scarred, it seemed, from wrestling with pens and staffs for hours on end.

Despite the likely sting, she grasped my hand tightly.

Didn’t it hurt?

I sighed, quietly guiding her to the mages’ rest barracks.

Usually, this desperately quiet forest felt only menacing.

But today, strangely, that very silence felt comforting.

* * *

The next day, Lir and I, guided by Trian, went to meet the lightning spirit, Dajin.

You wouldn’t believe she was the one who could barely walk the night before, as Lir effortlessly kept pace with Trian.

Meanwhile, my entire body was still screaming in muscular agony.

“Ha! You’ve arrived, children! Can you feel the scent of this pristine forest?”

Beneath the gargantuan tree, my hand found the runestone, and from it, the lightning spirit, Dajin, manifested. The spirit, taking the form of a stag with enormous antlers, spoke with a voice brimming with excitement.

I told Dajin we should skip the pleasantries and get straight to the point.

Because of this blasted spirit’s quest—the kind you only hear about in legends—Rex almost died, and my body still aches with a cold that seeps into the marrow of my bones.

I had to get a reward worthy of the difficulty.

I’d strip him bare, right down to his very essence.

“Haa, ssup…!”

First, I needed to catch my breath, which felt like it was stuck in my throat.

“…Oh, yes. By all means, catch your breath first.”

“Haa… shee, really.”

“Yes, well… um. Do you require more time?”

“Don’t… speak…”

“Ah, my apologies.”

Dajin, who had arrived with a boisterous laugh, stood before me as I struggled to breathe, looking sheepish as he turned his head this way and that.

“Oh.”

It seemed Rir caught Dajin’s eye as he turned. The lightning spirit, whose face had been etched with awkwardness, regained his smile and slowly approached Rir, addressing her.

“You caused quite a ruckus last night, it was quite entertaining.”

“…Yes. I apologize.”

“There is no need to apologize. I adore watching my children struggle.”

Dajin then directed a warm…a spark of lightning at Rir’s chin, as she stood with her head bowed.

I know it sounds impossible, but that was the only way to describe the lightning Dajin sent toward Rir.

“So, did you reach it? That landscape you brushed against.”

“…Not yet.”

“Ha! Excellent! Very good indeed.”

Dajin laughed heartily at Lire’s answer.

“To say ‘not yet’ means you know you will reach it someday. I shall look forward to it.”

“Haa… Enough with the drivel. Just give me what you promised.”

I cut off their conversation, my voice hoarse.

It was quite a sight, seeing them start filming a youth drama right next to a desperate survival documentary.

Please, if you have the energy to talk like that, at least bring me a cup of water.

I really feel like I’m about to die.