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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Silverriver
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I left the clothing store with a disappointed look on my face. Senior Bell clicked her tongue, as if it wasn’t quite enough, but I didn’t want my wallet emptied any further, so I left immediately. Her expression still lingered in my mind.
And before leaving, the club activity day Crena told me about was… two days from now. After all of this week’s academy classes are over, I have to go to Haven for the Weary. Before that.
“I’ve heard there’s an ideal location for performing spirit rituals.”
“Where on earth did you pick up such preposterous information?”
Swallowing the words, ‘from you, in the original story,’ I looked down at Medea. She briefly rolled her eyes before sighing.
“It’s an old wives’ tale among elves. That forests are better than cities, and riversides with open skies are better than typical forests.”
I wondered if it was this superstition that led her to constantly seek out the forest in the original story. Instead of voicing my curiosity, I addressed her directly.
“So, a place with a convergence of many attributes is ideal.”
“Except for fire spirits. They’re too volatile.”
“Come along.”
I guided Christina to the place I had in mind. Even though I was just guiding her to a place I already knew, a strange feeling tickled my heart.
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The northern forest where Renok’s dungeon was hidden. In the center of it, there’s a fairly large lake. In terms of scale, it was a typical lake. The volume of still water wasn’t particularly remarkable. Yet, this lake held a special significance.
‘Because Christina frequented it.’
I don’t know the exact reason, but she consistently returned to this place in the original story. Agnes practically lived in the training grounds; similarly, Christina practically resided in this northern forest.
“…….”
Perhaps due to my slight disorientation, by the time we arrived, the lake reflected the night sky. Though I kept my composure, the breathtaking natural beauty filled me with awe.
“Medea.”
“Yes.”
Seemingly captivated by the lakeside scenery, Medea gazed down at the water’s surface.
Just as she had in the original story, her gaze was perpetually drawn to the lake’s depths. Though what lay beneath remained a mystery.
“Explain the spirit ritual.”
“…….”
She turned her gaze to look at me. As if asking if I was really going to learn spirit magic?
Of course. Maximizing my potential was paramount. The inherent genius within me made it possible. The spirits currently clinging to me served as proof. Medea recognized this, observing my interaction with them.
“You have no need for the spirit ritual.”
“What?”
“You don’t need it. You already perceive and manipulate spirits directly. Why bother with the ritual?”
Bewildered, I blinked and examined my hand. At least half a dozen spirits were readily visible. A significant increase compared to my time at the Trea Mansion.
“The spirit ritual is a technique arbitrarily established to interact with spirits. If you can interact with spirits directly, why bother implementing the technique?”
“…Is that so?”
Medea had a dumbfounded look on her face. You don’t really understand either, huh? I don’t understand my body very well either. From the original story, the spirit ritual was seen as an almost essential element for summoning spirits. Even to the point where Medea used the spirit ritual to summon high-ranking spirits. Her techniques are always accompanied by spirit rituals. But, my body doesn’t need to use spirit rituals? It was an undeniable cheat.
Why was such an improbable advantage bestowed upon a character who wasn’t even the protagonist? To be honest, the same deus ex machina that was afforded to the protagonist, Lee Han, is concentrated in this body. The kind of power that can’t be replaced by just a terminal illness.
“Honestly, I’ve never seen a case like yours. Even delving into elven history, instances of interacting with spirits without rituals are exceedingly rare.”
“And you’re saying I’m one of those rare cases.”
“Precisely. Your affinity and sensitivity to spirits are off the charts.”
Had this simplified or complicated matters? My initial plan involved leveraging Christina’s expertise, exploiting my genius to force her into teaching me.
‘That’s out the window.’
But it seems I’ve underestimated the ‘Genius’ trait too much. It was a far greater cheat than I’d imagined.
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“It’s clear….”
Medea unconsciously reached out and lightly touched the lake water. It’s hard to find such clear water even in the Elven Forest. Stagnant water is bound to get a little murky, but this lake shows no such signs. As if… someone is constantly purifying the lake water. The sunlight that settled down from the moment we arrived here must have painted the clear water red. The appearance of yellow and red adding together would have been a spectacular scene, like something from a fairy tale. But now it is night. The starlight of the night sky is reflected on the water surface and shines faintly. Medea stirred the stars reflected on the lake with her finger, then turned her head.
‘He can’t actually be asleep, can he?’
Her gaze fell upon the human who shared the slave mark etched onto her hand, lying amidst the undergrowth. His appearance defied human norms. He had even relinquished his ever-present staff. Utterly defenseless. He harbored no suspicion of an attack. Completely vulnerable. If she were to try to attack, she thinks she could.
“Ugh.”
Medea, or rather, Christina, winced. Even the lowliest spirits defied her commands.
‘A preposterous monster.’
Deron was precisely that. Elves who communed with spirits without rituals throughout history? They certainly existed. The ancestors of the elves must have interacted with spirits using only their senses in order to create the spirit ritual. But among humans? Unheard of.
Of course, she’s aware of the existence of people like the Swordmaster Renok and the Archmage Iliard in the human world. But manifesting spirits without a spirit ritual is a completely different concept. It’s a similar concept to using swordsmanship without a sword, or using magic without chanting.
The man before her handles spirits so naturally, even dragons couldn’t control them. That terrifying talent makes the observer shrink back.
When Deron said she didn’t need to teach him the spirit ritual, he thought for a moment and then nodded. And then he just told her to practice her spirit rituals. He’s been like that ever since. Lying in the bushes, looking up at the sky.
Christina confirmed that his melancholy eyes slowly closed. And because of the slave mark, the hostility towards her master turns into pain. It’s as if the command to protect her master at all costs is engraved in her mind.
A cool breeze brushes past her hair. Summer is already approaching. Summer nights are never quiet. Somewhere among the starlight reflected in the sky and on the lake, sounds of insects welcoming summer, or animals moving through the bushes, can be heard.
The kind she hasn’t felt at all since being taken as a slave. In the crystal-clear reflection, Christina caresses a blade of grass.
He’s a strange human. Deron Philasia was a man who left a lasting impression. His appearance, even among humans, was striking. Furthermore, he hadn’t imposed himself upon her. He just committed the disrespectful act of asking an elf to teach him the spirit ritual in front of her.
“How peculiar….”
There’s no way to escape. Now that the slave mark is engraved, the only way is to destroy the mark. If she commanded high-ranking spirits, perhaps their power could shatter the mark. But the highest-ranking spirits, singular entities of each element, had no reason to heed her call.
Christina carefully initiated the spirit ritual. Deron’s knowledge of this location’s suitability remained a mystery, but it was undeniably ideal. Water, fire, earth, wind. Fire is playful, earth is heavy, wind is free, and water does not linger. Spirits, each with their unique characteristics, were not easily swayed.
“Hmm.”
The four spirits drawn to her were no exception. Though merely low-ranking, their combined strength rivaled that of an intermediate mana user. Maintaining the ritual, Christina leaned against a tree. It exuded an unusual sense of comfort. Larger and more robust than its counterparts, its ancient bark whispered tales of a long and storied past. Christina observed the four manifested spirits, their playful movements as they hovered in the air endearing.
“Hello.”
A whispered monologue. Low-ranking spirits lacked the capacity for conversation. True communication required an intermediate level. Yet, Christina persisted.
“Even if you cannot speak, you can hear me, right?”
The spirits responded in unison, their movements catching her attention. A simple remark, yet their reaction differed markedly from any spirits she’d previously summoned. A newfound confidence bloomed within her, a sense that she might achieve a level of control she hadn’t managed even within the Elven Forest.
-Gooo.
A low rumble emanated from the pristine lake. Ignoring the sound, Christina focused intently on the spirit ritual. Methodically, step by step. The spirits, sensing her control, danced energetically before her, as if offering encouragement.
A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, dislodging a single green leaf, seemingly fated to fall. It twirled and drifted, its descent carrying it towards Christina. With uncanny precision, it landed upon her shoulder, as if guided by an unseen hand.
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