Book 9 Chapter 18

Chapter 217

“What does that mean? What do you mean, 'who'?”

I forced a cheerful voice, but Miria’s eyes wouldn't allow me to lie.

“Lista, that’s a hero’s name, isn’t it?”

“……”

“That assassin you called Lista at the grand bridge appeared in my dream. I only knew he looked exactly like me, but I didn’t know his name.”

Lista in your dream?

Strangely, I didn't feel bewildered. Perhaps it was because a part of my mind had considered this possibility.

Or perhaps some sensory organ was damaged by the unexpected reunion with Lista.

“But he said this: ‘Help Lin, this isn't the time to be like this.’”

I wish you hadn't told me that.

I was trying to compose myself, trying to calm the terribly heartbreaking and agonizing feelings…

I quietly lowered my gaze.

“The only ones around me then were Akie and Nen. Akie and Nen can't be Lin…”

Normally, Pipi would have defended me with playful remarks like ‘fake’ or ‘the real deal.’

But Pipi, perhaps still confused, was just sitting on the dragon statue over there, staring blankly into space.

That’s understandable. It has to be. Even I, a human, find this so difficult.

“Valentis told me that your way of using magic in combat is incredibly similar to Lin’s?”

Strictly speaking, it’s different.

Lin was an Elemental Master who used all eight attributes, whereas I can only use two right now.

It was also relatively recent that I began to control the lightning attribute.

“And since that Pipi confirmed he’s the Pipi of Lady Freide…”

Miria's eyes, as she bit her lip and swallowed her words, spoke volumes. *I know the answer.*

“Do you really want to hear that answer?”

Dust swirled in the wind whipping through the underground cavern. Chasing the dust, I averted my gaze.

“Yes, I need to hear it. But I’m not forcing you. The choice is yours.”

I know. That even if I speak of the past, I cannot return to it. That there’s no way to reclaim it in any form.

Where should I begin?

What should I say first?

Is it right to explain?

Is it right to tell the story of Lista, who appeared in my life with long, elegant white hair, and the truth behind it?

“I am Lin, a direct disciple of Archmage Atlante, and I studied for five years. During the period of unrest, I followed Lista to the South Pole and died alone at the end of the journey.”

Simply recounting my past history made my heart ache as if it were being squeezed. I held up the Black Yanglin as proof.

“His Holiness Kalenden, the Black Sun, took pity on me and I was reborn through reincarnation.”

The words and past events that had festered deep in my heart, the story of an old life that I couldn't pour out to anyone.

“Living like that, I met you, who looks exactly like Lista, and this time, Lista…”

I realized it in mid-sentence.

That I couldn’t say anything more. Because my chest felt like it was tearing apart.

With a smile that looked like it would shatter at any moment, I forced myself to finish the story.

“It’s all an old story now, something that can’t be changed.”

“……”

“Will you keep it a secret from the others? I’m afraid their attitude towards me will change. The way things are now is just perfect.”

Miria, who hadn’t even let out a breath in her shock, spoke in a dazed tone.

“Wait. Does that mean, I’m—?”

It would have been a lie if I hadn't felt some anticipation for what Miria was about to say, for that situation.

If Lista had been reincarnated somewhere on this continent in the same way I had, and if we could somehow meet again by chance one day and finish the story we couldn’t finish 300 years ago.

Ah.

How wonderful would that be?

It would be a lie if I hadn't dreamed such a dream. But a dream is just a dream, and one cannot force it upon another.

Because at that moment, it would cease to be a dream and become a delusion.

“—Just as I am no longer Lin, you are also not Lista.”

Perhaps because of the dismissive tone, Miria could only stand there in silence.

“I’m Rain, and you’re Miria. You don’t need to worry about it. You don’t even have memories, do you?”

But this is right.

This is how I must draw the line.

Because the memories Lista and I built over five years cannot be simply untangled through conversation. And rebuilding them is impossible.

—*Lin, look at that flower field!*

—*Lin, will you promise me?*

—*Lin, we promised, didn’t we? That we’d return and see the world together then?*

The gaze that had been holding me with some invisible force vanished at that moment.

Just when I thought I could finally breathe, an even fiercer gaze flew at me.

Along with a faint breath, as if about to break.

“So what are you going to do now?”

“Do?”

“Don’t play innocent. I’m talking about that Lista! From what I’ve read in books, Lin and Lista weren’t just comrades.”

I know.

What you’re about to say.

To compose myself, I've been trying to remain silent all this time.

“I have to end it.”

Is that a question of whether I *can*? I can't give a definite answer to that, but I can say it's not something I *want* to do.

But it's something I *must* do.

Because, long ago, 300 years ago, Lista and I made a promise to do so.

—*If one of us is eroded by the abyss and becomes a wraith, then let us all unite and grant them peace.*

Because we promised that if such a day came, our comrades would unite and do this.

“Since he’s already a wraith and has no memories, there’s no way we can have a proper conversation.”

“Are you serious?”

“Completely serious.”

“No regrets?”

Even just trying to keep that promise, my tongue felt unusually heavy.

“Regrets, well. If there’s just one, it’s that Lista left a letter, right? If I had seen that, I wouldn’t have any lingering attachments, which is a shame.”

When Nariaduke took over my body, the ice of the Grand Barrier of the Sacred Seal shattered, and that letter also disappeared.

I won’t be able to see it now.

Lista’s last words to me… I looked up at the sky with a mournful sigh, and Miria carefully murmured.

“I saw that letter Lista left for Lin. When we rescued Akie.”

“What?”

“I remember the contents clearly. Not all of it, just the opening part.”

It was around that time.

Inside the fiery barrier, Obin’s body began to writhe, and grotesque sounds erupted from his bones.

Obin let out a strange guttural sound, planting one hand on the ground, trying to push himself up.

“The mutation has begun…”

“Abu.”

Setsunen, perhaps frightened, tightened her grip on my back.

“Bell Quirius!”

He forcibly amplifies the magical power flowing through Obin’s body.

This should allow him to somewhat contend with the abyssal energy spreading throughout his body, braking the speed of the mutation.

Miria asked in a flustered tone.

“What? Did this stop the mutation?”

“No, it just slowed it down a bit. All I can do is…”

My forehead was drenched in cold sweat due to the momentary display of extreme concentration. My weary gaze turned towards Valentis next to Obin.

*Hurry, Valentis. There’s no time.*

* * *

“Cut them down!”

With a battle cry, Valentis dodged, parried, and pushed away the endlessly advancing swords of the guards with his fan, swiftly moving towards Obin.

“Evacuate His Highness!”

“Blow the trumpet!”

Of course, he killed no one.

If he did, he would incur complete resentment, and he wouldn't even be able to attempt persuasion.

But what benefit did he gain from doing such troublesome work?

—*Just teach him, as if you’re being tricked.*

Because of that guy’s advice?

Perhaps there was an enlightenment there that might bring him to a similar level as that guy?

—*It will be an experience you wouldn’t trade for anything in your life, I’m sure.*

Originally, that would have been the case.

And he would have entered this dream with such a half-believing heart.

But now…

—*You will experience much despair in your life, but you will surely meet those who recognize the Prince’s worth.*

Should this be called a sense of solidarity? He didn't even have time to think of an appropriate word.

“Your Highness, this way!”

One guard hoisted Obin onto his shoulders and began to sprint towards the side door.

And from the distant sky, cracks began to spread across the dream world. It must be proof that the mind was collapsing along with the body.

If he lost Obin here, if he failed to persuade him, it would all be over. Yes, but what would be over?

“Obin! Are you going to keep dwelling on the past like this?”

“……?”

“If you do, you’ll remain a pathetic little kid who can never live up to your mother’s expectations your whole life!”

Why had Valentis himself lived such a painful life?

“How dare this fellow speak such insolence to His Highness!”

Even while killing his master and carrying out massacres under the command of the Black Church.

“If you're going to return in that same pathetic state on the day you meet your mother in that sky, I won’t stop you.”

He had seemingly become the disciple of a legendary shaman, but realized that shaman was no different from other black magicians, and even while trembling with betrayal.

“Silence that mouth!”

Didn’t his master entrust him with everything back then?

—*You will meet them someday.*

Laughing heartily even in his last moments, as he drew his last breath from his disciple’s strike…

—*A friend who will understand everything about you and walk the same path.*

Ah, at this moment, he finally realized the reason for his life, something he himself could not give a definitive answer to.

Was it not because his master entrusted him with a dream? A dream to create a more beautiful world, a better world.

Yes, it was exactly as Rain Ludwig had said.

Teaching someone was indeed one of the learning processes, understanding the hearts of parents and mentors.

“But what about the Queen’s heart, who entrusted everything to you, if that happens?”

He wanted to help this guy.

It wasn't because of a master-disciple relationship, something not yet properly formed.

He wanted to see the future of this prince who could weep for his people and sacrifice himself for others.

“And what about your younger sibling, who will be left alone?”

The end of the dream was approaching.

The cracks in the world gradually began to engulf the horizon, and the endless procession of guards and soldiers blocking the way persisted.

He merely hoped to reach him and shouted.

“Are you going to leave all this behind and abandon it to depart like this?!”

He had always lived wearing a mask, always wearing the guise of hypocrisy and pretense, making it difficult to convey his true feelings.

He hoped that even a little of the sincerity needed to unleash that cry would be conveyed.

Did that cry reach Obin’s ears? The moment he saw Obin’s eyes waver, the cracks spread across the entire world, then shattered into pieces.

*The dream.*

Valentis’s consciousness also turned pitch black, and the next moment, he opened his eyes in intense heat.

*The dream is over. Here is…*

The musty, damp air of the underground cavern shimmered… and a desperate shout entered his slowly recovering hearing.

“Get out of that barrier, Valentis! The mutation is over! It’s too late!”

“Wait, Miria! He seems to have a plan.”

No, it wasn't too late.

Obin, transformed into a primitive man, nearly doubled in size, lunged at him.

Valentis, covering Obin’s mouth with his magical hand, touched the necklace around Obin’s neck with his right hand.

The legacy of Archmage Ligwind, the Yulkwangstone.

“Oh, bond of augmentation, by the command of the spellcaster Valentis, expand and extend your breadth to increase your power!”

Archmage Ligwind, help your descendant. So he can return to his original self.

If magic is the study of reason, then incantations modeled after Draconic are the study of prayer.

Valentis, who had reached the absolute pinnacle of such incantations, for the first time in his life, imbued his incantation with prayer.

*Woong.*

Ligwind’s Yulkwangstone, that gem said to reflect the sun’s light in seven colors, illuminated the underground dazzlingly.

A light that was somehow sorrowful, mournful, joyful, and yet beautiful…

That light converged once again. It enveloped Obin’s body, the current owner of the Yulkwangstone, in radiance.

“……!”

“……!”

“……!”

As the light left a vivid blue afterimage on their retinas, the moment Rain and Miria covered their eyes with their hands, a cracking sound, like rocks splitting, was heard.

The primitive man’s body shattered, and through the cracks, Obin’s body slowly slipped out.

Valentis immediately caught Obin as he collapsed to the ground and tried to check his heartbeat.

“Oh, Mother…”

He finally felt relieved upon hearing the prince’s voice, full of tears welling in his eyes.

Yes, he’s back… He was so relieved that for the first time in his life, his legs gave out.

A defenseless expression, which Valentis revealed only very rarely, appeared on his lips.

“Valentis.”

Rain, who was about to say, *I’ve never seen such a reckless fellow*, saw that expression and remembered.

The expression on his own face when he taught Tureina, when he guided Akie.

And he remembered the smiles his comrades had given him then, and what they had said.

And how he had known that smile was the same smile the Archmage wore when he guided him.

“You realized something, just as I said?”

Valentis didn't try to hide or conceal that expression. He merely closed his eyes gently and nodded.

“Yes, I’ve decided. I’ll properly teach Obin.”

This was probably the first time he had called Obin by his name. It seemed he had always just called him 'the mute prince.'

Valentis cradled Obin in his arms, ignoring Miria’s questioning gaze.

The expression on his face as he looked down at Obin was as warm as the one he had briefly seen at the <Delighten> festival.

“So I’m going to raise him into a talent who will light up this dark age. Even a piece of trash like me can serve as a negative example.”

He himself was already stained by darkness, his body steeped in sins that could not be washed away or atoned for by anything.

But this boy, though mute, who neither resented nor blamed his situation, but instead could weep for others.

Valentis thought then that perhaps this boy could achieve something they had dreamed of.

“I sincerely thank you, Rain Ludwig, for giving me good guidance.”