Chapter 112 - The Truth...? (2)

At the end of the silence, Sircal spoke.

"... Then why did he not tell us who he was?"

As she murmured blankly, unable to understand, the chieftain lowered himself into his chair with difficulty and shook his head.

"That, I do not know either. Just as lesser creatures cannot understand the actions of a great being, we cannot fathom his will."

"What we do know is that he has saved our tribe once again. So should we not do what we can for him?"

"What we can... do for him?"

In answer to Sircal's question, the chieftain said,

"Yes. There is only one thing insignificant creatures like us can do for him: offer him our reverence. That—"

He smiled brightly.

"—is what we who have received his grace must do, and the duty you must shoulder as his apostle and our future chieftain. Can you do that?"

Sircal the Swift fell silent for a moment at his words.

At the same time, she recalled the pure white radiance that had spread through the ash-gray world when Marquis Pallatio dealt with Basiliora the Receiver.

"..."

With that memory in mind, Sircal answered without a trace of hesitation.

"Yes."

####

It had taken Alon roughly two weeks to travel from Caslot to the outskirts of Teria, the capital of the Kingdom of Asteria. He was now just one day away from his destination.

"Only one more day, my lord."

"Indeed."

"Will we return straight to the estate after your audience with the monarch?"

"Of course."

Alon, who had been practicing magic near their campsite, let out a sigh at Evan's question.

"By the way, my lord."

"What is it?"

"Your magic seems to be getting stronger lately."

"... Does it?"

"Yes. Watching you repeat the same spell for two weeks has given me a pretty good idea."

Alon looked at the spot where he had been practicing until a moment ago.

'Yes, it does seem stronger.'

He wore a peculiar expression as he gazed at the large hole in the ground.

He had been using magic regularly to explore various possibilities, but a sudden increase in its power made no sense. He was currently researching efficiency, not power.

As he continued thinking, a hypothesis occurred to him.

'An increase in power without any warning would have to be due to stature... Has my stature risen again without my knowing?'

Perhaps an increase in stature had strengthened the magic itself. Under the circumstances, that seemed the most plausible explanation.

Even so, Alon felt himself sinking deeper into confusion. He had absolutely no idea where that stature was accumulating from.

'No matter how I look at it, I don't think I've done anything that would build stature.'

Stature came from sustained reverence.

In other words, even though Alon had saved many people with magic, those isolated incidents could not generate stature. It arose from an enduring, absolute belief strong enough to be called faith.

'Where on earth is it coming from?'

The peculiar situation drew him deeper into thought.

'... Does what Deus did last time count as faith?'

He recalled Deus winning enthusiastic responses from the Thunder Serpent tribespeople with a version of events somewhat more fanciful than the truth, but soon shook his head.

'Surely something like that couldn't create faith... No.'

After briefly puzzling over it, he sighed and set the subject aside. Stature was not particularly important right now, anyway.

'This is the problem.'

Alon looked at the red ring on his finger, marked with a serpent design.

HUM!

He tried feeding mana into it, just in case.

Strangely, however, the pact ring that had subjugated Basiliora the Receiver did not respond.

'This isn't supposed to happen.'

Alon's face remained expressionless, but he was at a complete loss.

Normally, a subjugated being inside the Ring of Calgunias's Pact should respond and be summoned when mana was fed into it.

Of course, with Alon's woefully inadequate mana, there was a chance it would appear only as a spirit form incapable of affecting the physical world. That was not much of a problem, either. In this particular case, he had a way to summon it regardless of his mana supply.

All he needed to check at this stage was whether Basiliora could be summoned without issue. Yet strangely, no matter how much mana he fed into the ring, it would not appear.

'More precisely, it feels as though it keeps almost working, then fails.'

A definite amount of his mana was draining away, and the mana arrangement formed a spirit body, if only for an instant. It seemed that the summoning itself was working.

'... Is it refusing to come out on purpose?'

A reasonable suspicion arose.

'... I suppose I'll have to ask Heinkel about this.'

He thought of the archmage who had originally owned the ring and, according to the lore, used it better than anyone else.

"Evan."

"What is it, my lord?"

"When is the next... magic symposium?"

"Uh, I'm not too sure myself... But if it's held on the usual schedule, I think it should be in about a month."

That was no short wait.

In the end, he decided to ask Riyan, whom he had met earlier, for another favor. Then he turned his gaze to the spirit's egg.

'I've been giving that thing mana for nearly two weeks, and there's still no sign of anything.'

Throughout the two-week journey to Asteria, he had fed mana to the black egg, even drinking potions to keep doing so. Yet the spirit's egg still showed no response.

'... I suspect that's because I have so little mana... Perhaps I'll learn something when I see the monarch.'

He thought so because Siyan had sent him to the Ruins of Malaka in the first place, but then—

"My lord, have a sweet potato. Maybe it's because the weather's chilly, unlike the jungle, but these taste great."

"... Do they?"

Alon's attention was caught by the sweet potatoes.

'... I'll find out tomorrow.'

He promptly sat down beside Evan and took a bite of a nicely roasted sweet potato.

"... It's delicious."

"Isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Ah, maybe we should have brought some of that Stormbug meat, too."

"... I think sweet potatoes are dozens of times better."

Sweet potatoes eaten on an autumn evening were as delicious as ever.

####

The following evening.

"My lord, we've arrived."

"Good."

Seeing the now-familiar sights of Teria in the distance, Alon said,

"Let's go straight to the royal castle."

"Yes, my lord."

He set off for where Critenia Siyan awaited.

Before long, he was granted an audience with Asteria's monarch, who welcomed him in her office with the same relaxed expression as ever.

"Oh, you're here?"

####

Silli Makalian, Deus Makalian's younger sister, was in an exceptionally good mood today.

She had not one but two reasons to be happy. Her older brother, Deus Makalian, was returning today from a work trip, so they could have dinner together.

And as it happened, today was also the day Silli Makalian had reached the first tier as a mage.

"Hehe."

She laughed without realizing it.

She recalled what her teacher, who had taught her magic for the past year, had said in astonishment.

["You have talent."]

She had talent.

Those words, spoken by a magic teacher who never offered empty praise, were sweet indeed to Silli. After all, Deus Makalian, her only remaining family, possessed a talent for the sword more brilliant than anyone else's.

Of course, she had never been foolish enough to resent him, but she had envied him. So now that her potential as a mage had been confirmed, she could not hide her delight.

What's more, even at the first tier, she showed exceptional aptitude for four of the eight elements: fire, ice, lightning, and wind.

'I'll have to brag to my brother...!'

Silli looked forward to dinner with Deus. No one would be happier than he would to hear the news.

She had first dreamed of becoming a mage because Deus had suggested that she try learning magic.

'Though he probably suggested it because of that man.'

Silli knew why he was so obsessed with magic. There was no way she could not know.

Whenever they were together and that man came up in conversation, a dinner that should have lasted about thirty minutes often stretched late into the evening.

She even knew that Deus occasionally imitated Marquis Pallatio's spellcasting in secret.

'I'll surprise him today...!'

With her heart full of anticipation, she eagerly awaited dinner.

When she finally met Deus that evening, Silli said,

"Brother, I've become a mage."

"Really?"

"Yes."

A gentle smile appeared on his lips, just as she had hoped, and she smiled back.

"I'm so proud of you. I knew you could do it."

Seeing Deus as happy as though the accomplishment were his own, Silli excitedly told him what her teacher had said that day.

"—So anyway, out of those four elements, I'm going to focus on fire and wind...!"

Deus nodded repeatedly, regarding his sister with warmth.

Just as Silli, still brimming with excitement, began to speak again—

"Wait."

"My teacher said the fire element is easy to learn, too—Huh?"

She realized something was wrong.

"... Brother?"

Deus's face, which had worn such a warm smile only moments ago, had become solemn and stern.

"??"

Silli was bewildered by the sudden change. But then—

"Silli."

"Yes...?"

"As you know, our Makalian bloodline has inherited the elements of lightning and ice."

"... Uh... What?"

She understood even less now.

Of course she did. As far as she knew, the Makalian family had never produced a mage, and their parents had been an ordinary woodcutter and herbalist.

But as Silli tried to object—

"Um... Brother? There aren't any mages in our bloodline—"

"Silli, this is important. We must be clear about it. Fire and wind, or ice and lightning—decide here and now."

Deus cut her off, speaking with the utmost seriousness. So seriously, in fact, that one might have believed Makalian mages truly had studied ice and lightning magic for generations.

"..."

Silli looked at Deus. His expression was more earnest than ever.

Watching him warily, she ventured a cautious reply, but—

"I think fire and wind would—"

"Ice. Lightning."

"Um..."

"Ice. Lightning."

She soon found herself at a loss for words.

"..."

"..."

After a brief silence, she tentatively offered the words while watching his reaction.

"Uh... Ice and lightning?"

The two words her brother wanted.

Only then did Deus nod repeatedly in satisfaction, a pleased smile on his face.

"Yes, that's right."

"..."

"That's right for the Makalian bloodline."

... The Makalian bloodline... There was no such thing...

The thought briefly crossed Silli's mind, but she did not bother saying it aloud.

... It was a peculiar evening.