Chapter 68 - Is This Really Okay...? (1)

The absurdly small-scale Ice-Crystal Painted Halberd vanished before even three seconds had passed. It was a Manifestation of One’s True Nature with virtually no practical use in combat.

'My mana...'

Even that alone had emptied Alon’s mana reservoir, making him realize anew just how outrageous his feat against the Outer God half a year ago had been.

'I should have been grateful just to have survived.'

With that thought, Alon looked at the dragonkin who had been mocking him only moments earlier. Though its dark outline had nothing more than white holes where its eyes and mouth should be, he could make out its expression all too clearly.

It stared, mouth agape in disbelief, at the spot where the magic had just manifested.

["H-how? You clearly said you knew nothing about mental imagery or anything else—"]

It muttered as though none of this could possibly be true.

Faced with the creature’s shock, as though everything it had ever taken for granted had been shattered, Alon reminded it of what mattered most.

"Keep your promise."

The dragonkin’s expression twisted.

####

Its shouting that Alon had lied to it and that the promise was therefore void did not last long. When Alon pointed out, "Someone of your stature cannot even keep their own word?" it groaned as though burdened with all the sorrows of the world.

["Mas...ter—"]

It barely forced the word out through the bitter grinding of its teeth.

... Of course, the word seemed far more filled with murderous intent than its customary respect. Still, Alon inwardly nodded in satisfaction at the gratifying sensation.

["Do you truly know nothing of mental imagery?"]

He nodded at its next question.

"I don’t."

["... You do not seem to be lying."]

"What exactly is this mental imagery that has you so worked up?"

At Alon’s bewildered question, it considered for a moment before explaining.

["As I told you last time, magic was originally created to access the laws. The same holds true for phrases, seals, and sentences alike."]

["There is one difference, however. Phrases and seals can be used by understanding and grasping their meanings, but that alone is not enough for sentences."]

It perched on the desk and continued.

["As I said before, sentences are keys for reaching the laws the Magus inscribed upon this world."]

"You told me that last time... But if, as you say, understanding mental imagery is absolutely necessary to use Manifestation of One’s True Nature, why did you teach me that sentence then? By your reasoning, I couldn’t have made use of it even if you taught it to me."

It answered Alon’s puzzled question immediately.

["That is both correct and incorrect. As I said last time, a sentence is a key, but it is ultimately also a sentence for interfering with the laws. In other words, it can serve as a key, but it can also be used to distort the laws."]

Alon nodded. He had indeed used Ice-Crystal Painted Halberd in another form before using it for Manifestation of One’s True Nature. By now, he also understood which law the sentence The Snowy Mountain’s Shadow distorted.

"So it has two uses."

["Precisely. Fundamentally, it is a key for approaching the laws the Magus inscribed, but it can also be employed as a law."]

The dragonkin continued.

["But as I have told you repeatedly, Manifestation of One’s True Nature requires mental imagery. Mental imagery is, in essence, memory."]

"... Memory?"

When Alon tilted his head slightly, it pondered with a low hum before speaking.

["Yes. People speak of inheriting history or knowledge, but in the end, it is memory. The memory of the moment when the Magi first created their sentences to access those laws."]

["That is what I call mental imagery, and it is absolutely essential to using a sentence as a key. That is why I said it was impossible."]

The dragonkin frowned and added in a somewhat quieter voice,

["For neither mental imagery nor Magi who might pass it on to their successors remain in this world."]

"..."

A brief silence followed, only to be broken by the dragonkin’s sigh.

["That is why I cannot quite understand it. How in the world did you succeed in manifesting your true nature?"]

It looked at Alon questioningly, but of course he had nothing to tell it. He did not know how he had accomplished Manifestation of One’s True Nature himself.

No, strictly speaking, he knew the method. He had formed a seal, uttered phrases, and spoken a sentence. That had been enough for him to succeed.

But this contradicted what the dragonkin before him had explained. Despite its insistence that inheriting mental imagery was essential, Alon had no memory of inheriting anything of the sort.

That was not all. There was a tremendous gulf between what it regarded as common knowledge and what Alon knew.

First, he had used magic through phrases, sentences, and seals all this time, but in most cases, he had acquired the knowledge by uttering the phrases himself, then put it to use. In other words, rather than understanding a phrase beforehand, he had learned its meaning through firsthand trial and error.

Yet the creature before him had clearly said that phrases and sentences could only be used once they were understood. Its words effectively meant that the very method by which Alon had taught himself magic was impossible.

"... Before I answer that, there is something I would like to discuss."

["What is it?"]

Alon explained his doubts. After listening to him for a while, the creature stared blankly, its mouth hanging open in genuine incomprehension.

["... How can that possibly make sense?"]

"But that is how I have actually done it. It is still how I do it now," Alon replied.

It gave an incredulous laugh and was about to say something, but—

RUMBLE!

"?"

Alon looked bewildered as the tower abruptly began shaking as though an earthquake had struck.

["... It seems my time is up."]

"... Your time?"

["I can only remain manifested for so long. It seems the manifestation is coming undone."]

Alon involuntarily furrowed his brows at the explanation, but the creature smiled as if to reassure him.

["Do not worry too much. Return in about five days, and we can speak again. I shall answer your questions then. And—"]

["—if possible, find Sparrow’s Staff, obtain phrases and sentences from the fellow inside it, and try using magic. You should be able to speak with him by feeding it mana."]

"... Sparrow’s Staff? ... Is it an ego weapon?"

["Rather than a weapon, he is a somewhat unhinged fellow who implanted his own personality into one. Obtain phrases and sentences from him."]

"... From what you have said, sentences are practically secret arts. Would he teach them so readily?"

["Do not worry about that. The fellow inside bitterly regrets failing to pass on his legacy. He will probably be more than willing to teach you."]

"..."

["I look forward to it. If what you say is true, then with phrases, sentences, and seals alone—"]

It smiled again.

["—you can wield the magic of every Magus. And—"]

With the final words, "You should be able to drive those things back as well," it vanished in an instant.

"..."

Now facing empty air, Alon remained silent.

####

Some time later, Alon left the ruins and sat pondering in the carriage on the way back.

He had not learned the secrets he had long been wondering about—the original purpose of today’s visit—but his attention had already drifted a little away from them. Waiting to learn those secrets posed little risk, since the colosseum required him to remain in Coloni for about two weeks anyway.

Instead, he was reviewing what the creature had told him today.

'... Unless you understand everything, from phrases and sentences to Manifestation of One’s True Nature, you cannot use magic in the first place...?'

He had already gone over the thought countless times.

'I don’t think that dragonkin was lying. Then how did I use it?'

But however often he pondered it, he could hardly find an answer to something he did not know.

'There does seem to be something going on... '

Still harboring that doubt, he soon turned his thoughts elsewhere.

'Sparrow’s Staff... '

Fortunately, Alon knew where the staff the dragonkin had mentioned was located.

'It should be in the royal treasury of Coloni.'

He knew because he had entered the royal household and taken items out through quests many times before.

Of course, knowing for certain that it was there did not mean he had ever taken Sparrow’s Staff. Of all the items in the treasury, it had the worst performance.

'... Its performance is a little disappointing to choose it over what I originally intended to take.'

Still, he had no intention of ignoring the creature’s advice. After pondering for a long while, he reached a decision.

'Do I have any choice? ... First, I should register as a colosseum gladiator when I get there.'

This time, he would participate in the colosseum and take Sparrow’s Staff. And so—

"Mentor!"

"What is it?"

"Pat my head."

"... Your head?"

"Yes!"

He stroked Seollang’s hair as she pressed close beside him and thrust her head toward him.

"..."

"Ahh..."

Or rather, his hand was practically motionless, while she moved her head this way and that to enjoy being petted all on her own. Together, they arrived in Coloni.

And then—

"... Hm?"

As soon as they entered Coloni, he sensed that the atmosphere was unusually unsettled. In fact, there were hardly any people out on its streets, leaving him puzzled—but only briefly.

As his carriage continued toward the guild, Alon spotted an enormous crowd packed along Coloni’s central street in the distance and had it stopped. There seemed to be no way for the carriage to make it through.

Moreover, a beastfolk, apparently having checked the road in the meantime, promptly reported the situation.

"Lady Seollang, I believe we will have to wait until the entire crowd has passed."

She looked at Alon. After a moment’s thought, he said,

"... Let’s take a look while we wait."

He stepped out of the carriage. Naturally, the bustling scene had piqued his curiosity too.

An enormous crowd lined both sides of the central road, as though the entire population of Coloni had gathered there. Alon got out of the carriage and pushed through the people, spotting another carriage approaching from afar.

"Stop."

A mercenary barred his way. The man looked vicious at a glance. He shoved Alon with the hand holding his sword and spoke.

"No one may approach Lord Milanon."

It was an undisguised warning.

Only then did Alon realize that, despite the dense crowd, this particular area had been cleared by the mercenaries. He looked at the man inside their cordon.

Adorned with all manner of finery, he appeared to be a noble of Coloni—and looked like an asshole at a glance. Apparently hearing the mercenary’s words, he glanced at Alon, smirked, and turned away.

"..."

Alon inwardly gave a dry laugh at the sight of a born noble trying to assert his privilege over something so pointless.

CRACK!

The mercenary who had been sternly blocking his path a moment earlier abruptly disappeared from before him and slammed into a grocery store.

It happened in an instant. Everyone in the crowd turned to look, and the mercenaries who had formed the cordon began moving before they had even grasped the situation.

At that moment—

CRACKLE!

BOOM! CRASH!

The mercenaries approaching Alon went spectacularly flying through the air and smashed into a building.

"S-Seollang!?"

Milanon, the noble who had been smirking only moments earlier, recoiled in shock at Seollang’s sudden appearance.

"Aaaaaaagh!!!"

But she soon seized his head, and he began screaming.

Then she asked,

"He sneered at you, Mentor. What should I do with him?"

Unlike when she was looking at Milanon, she turned back to Alon with a bright smile, leaving him speechless. Before he had a chance to stop her, she had grabbed a noble’s head as though she might burst it at any moment, simply because he had sneered.

"Should I kill him?"

It was certainly gratifying in its own way, but Alon thought it was a little excessive.

... At least on a street crowded with this many people.

"..."

As Alon considered what to do, the murmuring around him drew his gaze. He realized that the white carriage he had seen traveling along the crowded street had stopped directly in front of him. At the same time, he identified where it had come from.

'The Holy Kingdom?'

As Alon spotted the paladins and had that thought, the stopped carriage’s door opened and someone began to step out: a girl in black holy robes embroidered here and there in red.

"... Hm?"

Her face felt oddly familiar, and he tilted his head—but only for a moment.

"Y-Your Eminence!"

Hearing Milanon call to the girl while Seollang still gripped his head, Alon instinctively sensed that things were about to become a little complicated.

To anyone who had not witnessed what had happened earlier, Alon and Seollang would plainly look as though they were tormenting an innocent noble. Milanon seemed determined to exploit that impression, putting his heart and soul into an utterly pitiful expression. Alon wondered whether he should clear up the misunderstanding.

Contrary to his expectations, however, the girl who had stepped from the carriage did not approach Milanon, whose head was still in Seollang’s grasp. In fact, she did not spare the noble so much as a glance, as though she had no interest in him whatsoever. She headed straight toward Alon.

"Ack—"

Only then did Seollang cry out as though something terrible had happened, her tail swinging wildly. The girl passed her, came up to Alon, and took his left hand in both of hers.

Then she said,

"It’s been such a long time."

The smiling girl opened her eyes. The moment he met the red gaze they revealed, he realized that the girl before him was none other than—

"Teacher."

—Yutia Bloodia.

On a street where the murmurs had died away, leaving only shock and silence, she smiled without another word.