Chapter 53

It was nearly half a day before we returned to the barracks. Normally, the journey would take three or four hours, but the reason for our protracted return… well, needless to ask, it was all my fault.

Trian, concerned by my near-collapse upon reaching the barracks last time, opted for a longer route this time, one with ample places to rest and the flattest, easiest terrain possible.

Trian, having wandered these parts so often, had reached a point where he could identify every ancient tree and count each acacia tree with meticulous accuracy.

So he would pluck fruit here and there to offer me, and find potable water for me to drink.

It took time, but thanks to him, this journey was rather smooth, and I managed to avoid collapsing the moment I returned to the barracks, unlike before.

“Haa, sh… seriously…”

Well, it was just to the point where I didn’t collapse… it was still terribly difficult and arduous.

“Ah, you’ve returned. You weren’t back even as the sun set, and I was just considering sending out a search party.”

Black Hammer Beluga emerged from between the nearly completed barracks. In her hands were a small hammer and several nails.

“…Are you doing the work yourself?”

I asked, gazing at her, my squad leader, holding tools with my brow furrowed.

“Just sitting and giving orders here and there makes me restless, you see. I can’t even drink, so I have to relieve my stress with hammering!”

…Dwarves have such unique ways of relieving stress.

The more I talk to her, the stranger Beluga seems to become.

“Oh, dwarves. They’re always so cute.”

I was quietly nodding my head as I looked at Beluga when, suddenly, a haughty voice boomed from my right hand.

“…”

I frowned at my right hand, which had suddenly begun to speak. From beneath the skin of my right hand, where the arrogant voice was emanating, faint and warm electricity, like what Dajin had once emitted, was slowly flowing out.

“Hello?”

Currently, the staff-shaped artifact that Dajin had given me was molecularized and embedded beneath the skin of my right hand. And the staff had the function of summoning Dajin and communicating with him.

Not my right hand.

“…Why are you talking?”

I didn’t take out the staff. I didn’t even pretend to.

Never had I focused on the foreign sensation newly settled at my fingertips, nor uttered a word like ‘manifest’ to draw out this staff.

So why is this thing suddenly raising its voice from beneath the skin of my right hand?

“Aren’t you and I connected? What a ridiculous question…”

“No, no. This isn’t right. What do you mean, ridiculous…? Are you truly mad?”

The connection of our minds, allowing us to communicate, is the staff’s effect.

“Why are you speaking when I haven’t even drawn the staff?”

I was so dumbfounded, I couldn’t even manage a laugh.

Since when has this b*stard been so sly, observing me and those around me?

“…Oh, come now, can’t you humor me? I was just a little excited to see some adorable dwarves after so long. You’re being too harsh.”

“That’s not the point. Since when have you been linking your mind with mine?”

“Since the very beginning.”

“…Are you out of your mind?”

“Goodness, just letting me take a peek outside after so long.”

“After staring slyly like some voyeur this whole time, what makes you so brazen?”

This crazy pervert deer probably would have been observing me 24 hours a day if I hadn’t pointed it out.

How many times I go to the bathroom, who I meet and what conversations I have, what foods I like and dislike. The thought that this mad deer might be watching me every single moment sent chills down my spine, a frost forming that wouldn’t melt.

“Voyeur? I don’t even know what that is.”

This wretched medieval age.

When will mental asylums finally be established?

Only then would this madman even realize he’s lost his mind.

“Honestly, if you wanted to see the outside, you could have mentioned it! You gave me the chills, seriously.”

“Indeed. I desire a glimpse of the world after a long absence. I shall link my consciousness to the staff.”

Dajin spoke the moment I finished my sentence.

…….

It was far too late to be saying such things now.

“I swear, I’ll chop up that velvet antler and grind it to…”

“aaah! Your mouth! Your mouth! Even if you’re the spirit of lightning, show some basic respect…!”

Just as I was about to unleash a torrent of curses at the crackling lightning in my right hand, Lir’s hand clamped over my mouth.

Did an elf’s superior reaction time really need to shine in such a useless situation?

“Is it not a long-awaited outing? Try to understand my feelings.”

“…….”

Since my mouth was covered, I glared at the lightning erupting from my right hand, silently cursing.

“Well, if you truly dislike it, there’s no helping it. Don’t expect to borrow my power should dangerous situations arise later. I do not lend my strength to those who do not amuse me.”

“…….”

They said there were no drawbacks to a staff that could control the power of a spirit at will?

No, there are.

Enormously large ones, in fact.

This batshit insane deer b*stard himself is the drawback.

Just what kind of untold riches did the previous staff wielder hope to gain by communicating with and summoning a transcendent being as bizarre as Dajin?

The greatest accomplishment of the ancient who created this staff was trapping a madman like Dajin inside a stone. The worst mistake was crafting this cursed staff, letting the well-imprisoned Dajin tour the world.

“Vin-nim! Vin-nim, please calm yourself and listen? No matter what, Dajin-nim is a Spirit of Lightning, a Transcendent Being. They say he’s the origin of the very electric magic we use! There’s no good to be had in earning his displeasure. You understand?”

“Indeed, Rire speaks with such eloquence. Surely a moment will arrive when you require my power? There seems no reason to refuse me a little amusement.”

Even if Dajin was trapped within that tiny stone, a Transcendent Being was still a Transcendent Being. Even with an artifact crafted by a supremely skilled Ancient One, I didn’t believe he could be used like some sort of slave.

Still…

I wasn’t trapped inside some romance simulation game; why did I have to rack my brain to appease this jerk?

“Vin-nim, you understand? You won’t say anything unkind to Dajin-nim, right?”

I squeezed my eyes shut and nodded several times, signaling to her that I understood.

Rire soothed me once more, as if I were a child, and slowly removed her hand from my mouth.

“I’ll shatter all the velvet from that deer-brat’s antlers…”

Sorry Rire, that was a lie.

“aaah!”

Now Rire was screaming, frantically trying to cover my mouth with both hands.

“Even *I* have a private life, if you act like this, I can only conclude you’re a pervert…”

I twisted my head from side to side, forcing the words out between the gaps in her fingers.

“Please, Vin-nim, please!”

Rire begged in a desperate voice.

Of course, just because she begged so desperately didn’t mean I would stop talking.

Things had to be said.

“Ha! Still refuses to bow his head! It has been a long time since I met one so stubborn.”

Dajin, as if he’d resolved to tease me thoroughly, began pouring out warm lightning from his hands. The lightning condensed into a single point and swiftly took the form of a deer.

“My eye doesn’t lie, does it!”

Dajin pressed his face close, a smile playing on his lips.

…What a truly pathetic artifact.

* * *

A barracks nearing completion, armories and storehouses stretching long on either side of the road. Upon it, three mages strolled, staves slung across their backs.

The crescent moon already hung high overhead, and their robes bore the unmistakable scent of earth, dust, and sweat – a bouquet unwashed for weeks.

“Thankfully, nothing out of the ordinary today.”

“Damn, I just want to wash. I haven’t even properly washed my face in days.”

“Didn’t they say they built bathhouses in the barracks? Can’t we use those?”

“The drains were finished yesterday, but apparently they haven’t hauled in clean water yet.”

“I’m going insane. No washing, no laundry… Ugh, want to smell my robe?”

“Don’t even start with that garbage. My robe smells like rotten cheese. I don’t need a whiff of your rot on top of it.”

The three mages, part of the unit led by Squad Leader Bellua, seemed quite close. The male mage in the blue robe, sandwiched between the others, wrinkled his nose at the odors emanating from their clothes and muttered a low curse.

The mage on the left, curious if his own stench was truly so potent, deliberately pulled his robe up to his nose. The female mage on the right stared blankly at the nearly finished barracks as they walked.

“Oh? Is it that late already?”

“Hey! The mages are back. Let’s start wrapping things up for the day!”

Even the dwarves, hammering away under the lantern light, oblivious to the passage of time, began to wind down as they watched the three mages walk back to their tents.

“Finish up decently and come back! I want to get night roll call over with quickly and rest.”

The blue-robed mage, still grimacing, urged on the dwarf infantry working late as he headed back to the tents with his companions.

“Ah, hold on a bit! The roof isn’t quite done yet!”

“It will be a while longer, I suppose.”

“We’ll head on ahead! You must return before roll call!”

The dwarf’s shout echoed from the alleyway. The mages, as if used to it, let out light sighs and continued along the path towards their tents.

As they walked, their eyes finally caught sight of the warm glow and the large tent that had been their temporary home.

“…No, Master Bean! Please, just listen to me…”

Lir’s desperate cry faintly reached the ears of the three mages, who had quickened their pace to reach the tent and rest.

“…What, did Master Bean collapse again?”

“If that were the case, the squad leader would have just carried him back. It wouldn’t be this noisy.”

“Could something have happened?”

The three mages paused, listening to the uncharacteristic commotion coming from the woods.

“No, I mean…!”

This voice belonged to the boy, Bean, and it sounded almost enraged.

The male mage in the blue robe glanced uneasily at his companions upon hearing the voice.

The only image of Bean they knew was that of a listless figure lying in a carriage or a boy with a half-rasped voice, bowing his head to greet his subordinates first.

The boy’s violently angry voice was quite unsettling to them.

“O-oh?! Wait a…”

Then came the flustered voice of their superior, Bellua.

“…Ha! Amusing…!”

Following Bellua’s panicked tone was a voice filled with arrogant, conceited laughter.

A voice they had never heard before.

“Hey, let’s go.”

The female mage, as if sensing an ominous presence, withdrew the foot she had half-placed inside the tent and turned toward the source of the clamorous voices.

The three mages, their bodies weary from long vigilance, hurried toward the disturbance.

And there, upon arrival…a sight unfolded that even they, lifetime students of magic, had never witnessed before.

A magnificent stag, composed of lightning, stood before them. Each mage, upon seeing the creature, felt as though a colossal bolt of lightning had pierced their very being.

Though none could explain the stag, they knew in an instant.

That it was Dajin, the Lightning Spirit, spoken of only in ancient texts.

They were not students of the Electromancy school. The mage in the blue robe wielded the magic of earth and fire; the other two, water and wind, respectively.

Even so, they could not fail to recognize the lightning stag, the Lightning Spirit, Dajin.

Because the mana emanating unconsciously from Dajin felt so utterly pure, so achingly beautiful.

“That is…”

Without a word spoken first, the three mages were captivated in a heartbeat by the form of Dajin, radiating overwhelming majesty. Had they been mages of the Electric school, they would have willingly approached Dajin and bowed their heads. A strange wonder emanated from the stag.

“Yes, the Lightning Spirit…”

“Unbelievable. I, too, would like to meet the Wind Spirit someday…”

“That lunatic stag pup…!”

In this moment, one that would make any student of magic weep, a voice filled with fury tore through the air, and a slender arm abruptly invaded their vision.

Following the pale, delicate wrist, white hair obscured their view.

The savior destined to deliver the continent’s peoples, a promising member of the hero’s party, the mage with the greatest potential in history.

The fist of the boy, Vihn, adorned with countless titles…

…was flying toward Dajin’s face.

“Ugh.”

A strangled cry escapes. The three mages’ minds halt, simultaneously.

…Their brains, overloaded, unable to properly process the scene unfolding before them.

Vin was, in a fit of rage, swinging a fist at Dajin.

That is to say.

The lightning mage, hailed as a century’s genius, was throwing a punch at the spirit of lightning!

“Master Vin! Please… I’m so sorry! Dajin-nim, I apologize!”

Lyr, an elf and disciple of Alter Heindel, rushed forward, grabbing Vin’s arm and bowing to Dajin.

“Calm, calm yourself, General! Even so, you cannot act like this towards a Transcendent! What if you offend him and he orders us out of the forest…!”

Their squad leader, Belua of the Black Hammer, was equally taken aback by Vin’s actions. She seemed concerned that Vin might incur the wrath of the lightning spirit, potentially jeopardizing their mission, now nearing its final stages.

“Ha! How precious. Why don’t you dance some more like that? Should I even provide the music?”

…The so-called spirit of lightning simply mocked the young genius, whose clumsy punch had been thwarted by the two intervening mages.

“…”

The three mages, eyes glazed, could only watch the spectacle unfolding before them.

“…What is happening here?”

They simply couldn’t grasp the situation.

…No, perhaps no one could truly understand what was occurring.

And so, they simply stared blankly, then quietly slipped away from the commotion and returned to their tent.

They didn’t feel like they could accomplish anything by getting involved in that mess, and lingering nearby might only invite trouble.

They were content to gather around the campfire with their squadmates after evening roll call, enjoying dinner and gossiping about the bizarre sight they had witnessed.

“Ha! Madman, calling a Lightning Spirit an Ascended Being? To throw a fist at an Ascended Being, even among mages with their eccentricities, this surpasses all common sense!”

“The General, contrary to his delicate appearance, harbors a ferocious beast within!”

The tale, born from the mouths of mages, rippled through the dwarves and spread across the entire squad…

“What?! The General fought a Lightning Spirit for hours?!”

…flavored with the dwarves’ peculiar brand of exaggeration.

“Why would the General fight a Lightning Spirit?! Aren’t mages and spirits supposed to be friends?”

“Probably to tame it, no doubt. The General seeks even the power of spirits.”

“…Always so polite with his smile, yet hiding such a bestial side.”

“He bears the future of the continental people on his shoulders, after all. To lead us to victory in the war, he must feel the need to further augment his own strength.”

“Fighting spirits, is that how mages grow stronger?”

“…Perhaps so?”

A slight ignorance regarding magic added to the mix…

“The General has indeed tamed the Lightning Spirit, they say.”

“Inanity… He deserves the title ‘The Mage Who Will Save the World.'”

And so, yet another bizarre rumor was born.