Chapter 111. It… Wasn’t a Wyvern
Somewhere on the eastern continent.
Deep within the Demon Realm (魔境).
The Fourth Elder of Salvatium sat alone in his quarters, staring into a crystal orb.
“Hmm. On those words… there truly isn’t even an inch of falsehood?”
[Yes, yesyes. Yes, Elder. I remember—clearly, clearly. There isn’t even an inch of falsehood, so please…….]
“This time, you’ve really spilled everything without leaving anything out, yes?”
[Yes, yesyesyesyes.]
“Hm…….”
At Solion’s frantic answer, the Fourth Elder stroked his chin and leaned back into an old sofa.
A monster that had adapted to the Demon Realm (魔境). A sofa stitched together in a haphazard patchwork from its hide sagged with a creaking rub of friction.
Meanwhile, the Fourth Elder’s seasoned eyes sank deeper.
‘Destrow has been annihilated.’
In truth, it wasn’t all that surprising.
An ancient monstrosity (凶物). Even Destrow, called a calamity, wasn’t immortal.
In ancient times, it had only been sealed because its power was beyond what they could bear—but over the long years of confinement, that power gradually thinned, fading like light drained of color.
It was still power worthy of being called a calamity, but that didn’t mean it was at a level that could not be dealt with at all.
However, the problem was the situation.
‘…Why?’
The Fourth Elder retraced what he had heard from Solion about the situation in the Hamelin Great Forest.
‘There shouldn’t have been… any variables.’
The Fourth Base Camp. The mercenaries gathered around that place. These maggots weren’t even worth discussing. No matter how many maggots gather, they can’t overturn the tide.
Among them, there were only three who could be called variables in total.
‘Muspellun de Gigas Adelian.’
The Mage of Finality was the first.
‘Shine von Lehmann.’
The King Slayer was the second.
And the last…
‘An unidentified mage.’
A third one who knew neither name nor face, a bastard who had thoroughly concealed his identity beneath the Sakwol Insignia.
But that was only “could be called a variable,” at best.
They, too, could not overturn the tide all the same.
Muspellun? How long ago was that name of the Mage of Finality?
Now, his brilliant prime made laughable, he was nothing more than a washed-up relic waiting to die with a core split in two. This was a fact confirmed clearly through Salvatium’s intelligence network. Any Elder-class forbidden mages would all know it.
Then Shine von Lehmann? Don’t make him laugh.
Reduced to a Death Knight. Even merely embodying transcendence (超越) would put her existence in jeopardy.
The only one with any possibility was the unidentified mage, but…
‘Not him, either.’
From what he’d heard, it seemed the man wore the “Sakwol Insignia.”
‘Even if he’s some old relic of the Devoured Moon, he still can’t handle Destrow alone.’
And moreover, he wasn’t an old relic of the Devoured Moon.
As far as the Fourth Elder knew, among the former members of the Devoured Moon, there had never been a mage like him.
‘I state it plainly—there were no variables. Even these are nothing more than dust-sized possibilities.’
“And yet… Destrow was annihilated, you say. Who, exactly? And how?”
Tap, tap.
Wrinkled fingers drummed the table.
It felt like standing face-to-face with a bizarre phenomenon that couldn’t be explained by anything.
A chicken appearing without an egg, and an egg existing all by itself without a chicken. Like being bewitched by a ghost.
“Solion. Last chance. Is there truly nothing else that comes to mind? Spill it—anything at all, even something trivial.”
[Ah, th-that, I… I……]
“…….”
Solion stammered. The Fourth Elder quietly fixed his eyes on the wavering crystal orb.
He didn’t expect much.
It had already been several days.
He had wrung that soul out again and again.
Some might call it “only” that long, but the pain Solion had endured during that time was beyond distant.
And yet they had found no meaningful clue—could they find one now?
It was nothing more than a question thrown out of frustration.
“Enough. I suppose I expected too mu—”
[I-I have, I have it!]
The Fourth Elder’s hand, which had been about to seize the orb, stopped in midair.
“You do?”
[Yes, yes. I-it’s really… really something trivial, but I—I have it.]
Was he afraid of pain? Solion rambled on incoherently.
The Fourth Elder’s brow furrowed at the sight—only for a moment.
“…Hmm?”
Soon, an expression like interest flickered over the Fourth Elder’s face.
“So… there were times when Destrow’s seal would thin for no reason at all?”
[Yes, yes. We didn’t unfold the release ritual, and the ancient wraiths weren’t running wild either. They weren’t, but…….]
“As if a ‘medium’ were approaching?”
[Yes, yesyes! Th-that’s it. Exactly that.]
“Hoh. A medium?”
Truly an interesting story.
What is a medium?
Something deeply connected to the sealed entity, something that—by its very existence alone—disrupts the seal.
Do such things not exist?
In fairy tales and legends.
A holy sword that can only be drawn by a hero, or a treasure vault that reacts only to a specific bloodline—things like that.
They were depicted a bit differently from reality, but that was merely the result of being passed down and altered. Their essence was nothing more than the relationship between a “sealed entity” and a “medium.”
Tap tap.
The Fourth Elder’s fingers struck the table again.
“A medium. Destrow’s medium… Is that even possible?”
A medium is something with some kind of entanglement of fate with the sealed entity.
But Destrow was from a distant ancient age—an era so old even history had been lost.
‘And yet, there’s a medium?’
It was difficult to imagine.
Over that kind of time, bloodlines would dilute and vanish, and any object whatsoever would fade with age and turn to dust.
‘No… not all of them.’
The Fourth Elder’s finger went tap! against the table.
‘If it’s a grimoire, or a demon sword (魔劍), or a transcendent artifact on that level?’
The incomprehensible objects monopolized by those so-called prestigious houses.
If it was an object of that class, wouldn’t it be possible?
Of course, he couldn’t be one hundred percent certain.
Just as Destrow’s ancient ruins still remained, there could be ruins or relics from the same era as well.
But—
‘Probably… that’s the strongest possibility.’
Having thought that far, the Fourth Elder gathered his scattered thoughts. His gaze landed on Solion.
[Th-then, Elder……? D-did I help? Yes? Please…….]
“Yes. You were a great help.”
[Ah, aah!]
Solion cheered, overwhelmed with joy. Hellish pain—the end of it shimmered right before his eyes.
But that ecstasy was brief.
“In praise of your merits, I won’t make it a full hundred years.”
[Wh-what…… A, aaaaagh!]
The crystal orb blackened. At the same time, the Elder flicked his finger and cut off Solion’s screams.
Merit is merit, and sin is sin.
No matter the process, the result of releasing Destrow deserved praise—but the sin of stealing the Elder’s time for these past few days was by no means light.
After throwing Solion back into hell, the Elder resumed tapping the table.
“A medium… then it won’t be Muspellun’s disciple, will it? And it certainly won’t be Shine.”
What if Muspellun had obtained a grimoire during his years in seclusion…?
The Elder slowly shook his head. If he had been holding a grimoire, no matter the state of his core, Destrow wouldn’t even have been able to awaken.
Then…
One presence flashed through his mind.
The Masked Mage.
“So there’s only one candidate.”
Tap, tap, tap.
A steady beat echoed through the cavern as if a metronome had been turned on.
He didn’t know whether the man was the owner of a transcendent artifact, or the owner of an ancient relic.
But—
‘Either way… it’s worth confirming.’
The seasoned eyes glinted like a snake’s.
Meanwhile, at that time.
Aster, having arrived in the city of Hazen, suddenly looked up at the sky.
“Why are you doing that?”
“Just… suddenly.”
“Suddenly?”
“My mood turned foul.”
Aster spat the words out, his gaze fixed on the sky. At that, Raileigh spoke up first.
“It wasn’t me, sir.”
“What wasn’t?”
“Anything at all, sir.”
“…….”
A denial out of nowhere. Aster turned his head.
There’s a saying: “A thief’s feet go numb first.” Meaning, if someone feels guilty even though nobody accused them, then that one’s the thief.
Meeting those dim eyes, Raileigh startled and flailed his hands.
“N-no, really, sir. I didn’t badmouth you, Mage-nim, and I didn’t scheme anything sinister either.”
“…….”
“I-I’m serious.”
“Right? It wasn’t you?”
“O-of course.”
A softened gaze. Raileigh nodded desperately. Maybe his sincerity got through.
“Fine. Then I believe you.”
For some reason, Aster withdrew his suspicion without fuss. Raileigh let out a long breath of relief.
Of course, inside, he was a mess.
‘This fucking bastard…….’
He’s young, and where the hell did he learn to be so rotten?
No matter how strong he is—huh?—there are proper rules of decency in this world. This bastard doesn’t keep any of them.
From the Hamelin Great Forest all the way to the city of Hazen—
How many times did he beat the hell out of him?
—You don’t want to be my right-hand man?
He got hit for looking dejected.
—Thinking of running? Why are you so excited?
If he smiled, he got hit for smiling.
And that wasn’t all.
If he got up at night to relieve himself, the bastard would say he was trying to run and beat him hard enough to raise dust on a rainy day.
‘Damn it—what sin did I commit in a past life?’
Raileigh let out a heavy sigh at his situation.
It had been a gamble with his life. The odds had even been high. Think about it. A mage who’d reached that level, a powerhouse who could beat down the Master of the Swamp—how common was that in the world?
But then, what the hell is this?
‘Academy? ACADEMYYYYYY?’
He was an Academy student? It was something Raileigh couldn’t believe even after hearing it. No—something he didn’t want to believe.
Wealth and glory turned to foam, luxury and indulgence.
If he’d known it’d be like this, he should’ve lived a leisurely rural life—become a respected local figure in some country village, thin but long, modest but comfortable!
But what could he do?
Spilled water. The past can’t be reversed no matter what. He could only endure it.
Still, it wasn’t completely worthless.
“…….”
“Why are your eyes like that?”
“Ah—n-nothing, sir.”
Raileigh, who’d been looking at Aster, hurriedly waved his hands.
‘He’s definitely… not an ordinary Academy student.’
That much was obvious from his realm already, but what gave Raileigh certainty was something more material than that.
From the Hamelin Great Forest to the city of Hazen—
Using warp gates, there hadn’t been a single obstruction.
If Aster just flashed some shimmering paper from inside his clothes, those high-nosed gate administrators would startle and step aside…
A Semi-Royal Ticket.
A quick glance, and it was a Semi-Royal Ticket!
The very thing said to be possessed only by royalty, or by those directly granted it by the imperial family!
Since he’d said with his own mouth that he came from the Black and White Zone as a vagrant, it wasn’t that his family background was powerful.
‘Still… it means he has something.’
For Raileigh, it was like a thread of hope.
‘It’s not over yet. Not yet—this bet isn’t finished.’
What he’d thought was the sure thing turned out to be the underdog. But the hand still wasn’t fully turned over. Maybe he could scoop up stakes several times bigger than when it had looked like the sure thing!
Who knew?
Maybe that ill-mannered—no, that lord of his was some great figure connected to the imperial family.
Of course, if he was connected to the imperial family, with that stiff temperament he wouldn’t be able to dream of a free life—but he could enjoy power.
As Raileigh steadied his heart like that—
“…….”
Aster looked at Raileigh with pitying eyes.
Just from the look alone, it was obvious how he was spinning his happiness circuits. The way his attitude changed the instant he saw the Semi-Royal Ticket was something you couldn’t not notice even if you tried.
And the same was true for Shine.
“…….”
Standing under the shade with her robe pulled low, her eyes stared straight ahead. The resentment and anger lodged in those eyes had vanished right after she saw the Semi-Royal Ticket.
‘Yeah. Go ahead—get your hopes up.’
The bigger the expectation, the bigger the disappointment of loss—and the bigger the shock, too.
Pain makes a person tougher. Maybe the two of them could become tougher through this opportunity.
Anyway—
“…Hoo.”
Aster smiled as he took in Hazen’s scenery.
“I’m back.”
Of course, nobody welcomed him.
But from the sky above, a shriek rang out—“Piiiiiiik—!”
Screeeee—!
In the blue sky, a single shadow plunged down like an arrow.
It… wasn’t a wyvern. An owl, or maybe an eagle-owl—anyway, one of the two.
The bird dove down, trying to settle on top of Aster’s head, but—whip!—Aster’s hand snatched it by the scruff of its neck.
Kkuuiiiik!
“Breakfast No. 1?”
It was a summons from Headmaster sunbae.
