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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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In the beginning, there were gods.
Their power was immense, their influence vast, their numbers great.
But they were not perfect.
They were lazy, arrogant, and indolent.
And because of their negligence, the world began to decay.
The earth withered, the rivers ran dry, and storms raged where the sun once shone.
One goddess, the Goddess of Life, the mother of all living things, could not bear to see the world suffer.
She devised a plan. If the gods would not care for the world, then she would create children who would.
And so, she created them.
A child of fire, to bring warmth to the world.
A child of wind, to bring a gentle breeze.
A child of water, to quench the thirst of the parched land.
A child of earth, to enrich the soil.
These children nurtured the world, their care far exceeding that of the gods.
No one had anticipated the consequences.
The gods were enraged. How dare these… things… interfere in their domain?
But the children were bewildered. They had only cleaned up the mess the gods had made. Was it wrong to clean up someone else’s garbage?
They pleaded their case, but the arrogant gods wouldn’t listen. They accused the children of arrogance, of overstepping their bounds.
The other gods, united in their indignation, demanded someone be held responsible.
And the Goddess of Life, the children’s creator, was chosen.
The children were furious. Why should their mother be punished for their good deeds? What had the other gods done while their mother had worked so tirelessly? Was it a crime to care for the world?
They pleaded, they begged, but the decision was final.
She was exiled.
To the world she loved, the world filled with the life she’d created.
And her children followed her, refusing to live in a world without their mother.
Even in exile, she continued to love all living things, regardless of their race.
But the gods, in their jealousy, couldn’t even tolerate that. They began to tempt humanity, offering them power, legendary weapons, and sweet promises, turning them against their true benefactor.
And so, she was forgotten.
This is her story.
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“Well, that’s what happened.”
“…”
“Mother is better now, but… we’re not.”
I couldn’t speak. The casual way she spoke of such a tragedy, the pain in her eyes—it was too much.
“Have all your questions been answered? Then, shall we begin?”
“Begin what…?”
“You came here for a contract, didn’t you?”
“…”
“I can’t imagine you’d come all the way to the Spirit Realm for any other reason.”
I hadn’t. I’d just wanted a Spirit Stone.
“W-Wait, are you serious?”
“What’s the problem, Ignil?”
“He’s a human! The ones who betrayed us! Who forgot who their true benefactors were!”
“What does that matter? He’s not from this world.”
“She’s right. And a contractor who’s hostile towards the gods is a rare find.”
“But… wolf, you too?!”
Ignil seemed to be the only one who objected. The other Spirit Kings seemed to agree.
They hadn’t even asked for my opinion.
“I didn’t come here for a contract.”
“…What?!”
“Oh, really?”
“What do you mean?”
Their reactions were varied. One of them, Ignil, seemed pleased.
Honestly, a contract wouldn’t have been a bad thing, but I had other plans.
The only way to expel a spirit from a Spirit Stone was to form a contract with it. And a contract could only be formed once.
I explained my situation, and they seemed to understand, though they were clearly not pleased. For them, Spirit Kings, to be rejected in favor of a lesser spirit… it was an insult.
An awkward silence settled between us, until Plante approached me and handed me something.
“…Here. A Spirit Stone.”
“…Thank you.”
“…Hold it, and wish for a spirit that suits you…”
“…”
“…This is a gift. From me.”
She handed me a yellow leaf, imbued with a soft, golden light.
“It will protect you. Once.”
“Thank you.”
I was touched by her unexpected kindness, when the other three approached.
“Well, I suppose I can give you something, too.”
“Me as well.”
“…”
Their gifts appeared in my hands, and then, my vision blurred, my head spinning.
Flickering lights, distorted voices—
“…Going…?”
“We’ll… see… you…”
“…soon…”
And then, darkness.
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Blinding white light.
Swirling, raging flames.
A biting, razor-sharp wind.
All emanating from a single girl.
And her opponent, a boy, his face a mask of pure, childlike innocence, deflected her attacks with ease, despite the foul aura surrounding him.
He was smiling.
He was smiling, even after all he’d done.
After hearing their screams, after tearing them apart.
His unwavering smile enraged Sylvia.
A spear of ice formed in her hand, and she launched it, then followed, her speed enhanced by her spirits.
The boy watched her approach, a puzzled expression on his face.
“Isn’t a contract with a spirit a one-time thing? Whatever you did, it’s cheating!”
“Who said that?”
“Said what?”
“That I made a contract with them.”
“…?”
He didn’t understand. She was using their power, so she must have a contract with them, right? That was common knowledge.
But Sylvia was anything but common.
“I have no contract with any spirit. They lend me their power willingly.”
“…No contract…?”
“Yes. Unlike you, I have many friends and family.”
“…”
“And with so much to protect, I naturally sought strength.”
“…”
“So, I won’t lose to you—”
Something was wrong.
Sylvia, with her heightened senses, noticed the shift in his aura.
“…So, in the end, it’s just talent, isn’t it?”
“What are you talking—”
“This is why I don’t like humans.”
His right eye turned a solid black, a void that seemed to swallow the light.
Sylvia flinched, and he seized the opportunity.
His voice was suddenly beside her ear.
“What…!”
“You’re so annoying, your kind.”
She flew backwards, her ribs cracking from the force of his blow.
She rolled three times before coming to a stop, then looked up, but he was gone.
“Always looking down on others, isn’t that what you do?”
His voice came from behind her, followed by a sharp impact.
Her head slammed into the ground, a hand pressing down on her, holding her there.
“Ugh…”
“And if you ever do something nice for those beneath you, they’ll just wag their tails like grateful dogs.”
Her spirits tried to help her, but their attacks were absorbed by the black aura surrounding him.
“Isn’t life fun? Doesn’t it make you want to laugh? At our expense?!”
“…”
“You laugh at our efforts, at our struggles, knowing you’ll always be superior, don’t you?!”
He was angry, his voice filled with a raw, childish rage.
And Sylvia’s response, the response of a princess, trained in etiquette and diplomacy, was…
“So what? This is how I was born.”
“…What?”
“If you don’t like it, you should have tried harder. Instead of whining about those with talent. Am I wrong?”
It was the most infuriatingly arrogant answer she could have given.
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