CHAPTER 194. No, What the…
A cold silence settled over the room.
Ancient books preserved across long ages, and a space that carried the lived-in feel of holding them.
In that stagnant-looking scene, the spirit trembled—its body quivering.
- There’s… something here. Right?
Faced with that question—asking about the “something” the spirit absolutely did not want to mention, that is… the purpose of this place—the spirit couldn’t help but hesitate.
‘What do I do?’
In its heart, it wanted to answer the savior who had come to save them without hiding anything at all.
If he hadn’t asked, that would be one thing—but if he asked, it didn’t want to speak a lie.
But it was uneasy.
If it told the truth about what these ruins, Baharmut, were used for… would the savior who would save them also become yet another ruler?
Would he, like so many humans, become drunk on greed and turn into a monster?
If so, what awaited the spirits wouldn’t be freedom, but another oppression and another binding.
Just like thousands of years ago, they would be trapped in these narrow ruins, forced to see and see again things they didn’t want to see—because of human greed.
As anxious thoughts chained into more anxious thoughts, the spirit’s form—made of light—wavered dangerously.
That was when Aster’s voice came.
“Is it hard to say?”
[A little, hard.]
The spirit replied in a dispirited voice.
At the same time, another thought crossed it.
If it didn’t answer, would the savior get offended and abandon them, leaving the ruins?
Catching that anxiety, Mycelln slipped into the conversation.
“Hm. How about we do it this way?”
[……?]
“Even if we hear what Baharmut is used for, we will promise to save you. I will stake my spirits on it.”
At those words, the spirit’s light flared bright and large.
[Old human, really?]
“Ah, of course, that is only if saving you doesn’t bring an evil influence upon the world. But that won’t be the case, will it?”
[O- of course.]
At the unexpected proposal, the spirit felt as though its head had cleared wide open.
With a promise like that, it wouldn’t have to refuse the savior’s request, and they could still be saved safely.
The one who voiced doubt was Aster.
“Do you really have to go that far?”
“I’m curious, too. What in the world is the purpose of these ruins, that so many spirits were confined here? Aren’t you curious as well? Baharmut… it’s forgotten ruins not even mentioned in history.”
Seeking agreement, Mycelln looked to Demian and Chenbi.
Their reactions were obvious.
“I’m curious! It feels like there’s something huge, but I can’t guess what.”
“I’m curious too.”
After hearing them, Mycelln turned his gaze to Aster.
“What do you think? Even these two say so.”
“No, I get it, but still. Staking your spirits….”
“Isn’t the spirit uneasy? If we don’t intend to threaten it into answering, doesn’t this seem like the simplest way?”
Aster nodded as if agreeing.
But at the same time, he couldn’t help thinking this.
‘…Why?’
If he was simply curious, he didn’t have to stake his spirits.
Staking your spirits was, in a way, the same as putting your parents on the line among the vagrant kids of the Black and White Zone.
You’re staking your spirits just to hear what these ruins are used for?
‘It feels like there’s some other angle….’
Aster found Mycelln’s behavior a little awkward and felt suspicious—but it didn’t take long for that suspicion to be resolved.
“Then it’s decided? No matter what Baharmut is used for, we’ll consider it a firm promise that we will set the spirits free.”
“Are you seriously—”
“Ahem, ahem. It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just to put the spirit at ease.”
“…….”
Aster stared at Mycelln with an absurd look.
‘Does he think I might hear the purpose and then trap these spirits and exploit them?’
No, what the…?
He was so dumbfounded he couldn’t speak.
No matter what, did he really think Aster would go that far? Was the reason he staked his own spirits to protect the ruins’ spirits… from Aster?
‘This is some deep-rooted distrust of humans.’
Aster offered his respect to Mycelln’s distrust of humanity.
Meanwhile, the spirit, its light revived, glittered and swooped circles around Aster again.
[Then, say? Savior, I friend?]
“Yeah. Fine. Say it.”
Right. What else was there to say at this point?
If it’s fine, it’s fine.
When Aster finally resigned himself, the spirit swelled its light to the fullest.
Does this thing have no concept of moderation?
[Baharmut, purpose. See future.]
It went straight into the core, so full it filled the chest from the start.
Baharmut.
This structure was ruins built thousands of years ago in the Grand Elemental Era, and its original purpose was “climate manipulation.”
The beginning was, truly, tender.
A great spirit mage who had lost a lover to a natural disaster created it, wishing that no one would ever suffer the same pain again.
Hundreds of spirits who followed him, and thousands of spirit mages, joined in that wish.
Thus was born the crowning masterpiece of spirit arts.
In its earliest days, Baharmut was a sacred structure truly worthy of being called “great.”
In accordance with its purpose, it observed natural disasters across the continent—typhoons, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, tsunamis—and with the spirits’ power, it erased them, or weakened them.
It was around then that the name Baharmut (Bharrmut), “Ruler of Nature,” came to be.
But every tragedy began with a wandering mage.
No—more precisely, with a single “object” that wandering mage presented to the great spirit mage who had become Emperor.
- Great Emperor. Lord who places the continent beneath your feet and rules over nature—if I told you I have a way to make your authority more perfect, would you believe me?
In an era when magic was scorned, the Emperor did not listen closely to the old mage’s words.
He allowed an audience because of rumors that the man was unusually capable for a mage, but at the time, magic was ultimately a relic of an old age.
It was nothing more than an auxiliary means that supported spirit arts.
Still, the benevolent Emperor was considerate so the old mage wouldn’t feel slighted. The only reason he humored the wandering mage’s words was for that.
But who could have known?
That small consideration would ultimately lead the great Emperor to ruin.
- Heh heh, as expected, the Great Emperor is different. Others were busy looking down on this old man and ignoring me…
- Even if magic is a discipline that has fallen behind the times, there is always a path, anywhere.
- True words indeed. Then, since it’s late, I won’t drag this out. This, right here, is the way to perfect the Emperor’s authority.
- This is…?
What the mage handed the Emperor was “a single sheet of paper.”
The Emperor recognized its extraordinary nature at a glance—something anyone would likely have done.
The paper, holding an unidentified power that was neither spirit power, nor mana, nor Aether, gave off a strange atmosphere beyond description.
Enraptured by the paper’s presence, the mage left behind a single line and vanished.
- Take this to Baharmut’s altar. Then, the Emperor’s authority will become even more perfect.
When he came to his senses at those words, all that lay before the Emperor was the sheet of paper and an empty grand hall.
From that day on, the Emperor combed the continent to discover the paper’s nature and the wandering mage’s identity.
He couldn’t bring unknown parchment to Baharmut.
And so, years passed.
The wandering mage never appeared again.
He couldn’t determine the parchment’s identity.
All the Emperor learned in that time was a conjecture that the parchment was “part of a magic book,” and that it held some kind of bizarre power.
It was around then that war broke out across the continent.
- The war situation… is not good, Your Majesty.
An invasion by surrounding countries targeting Baharmut.
An empire crumbling.
Enemies who had schemed in the shadows for a long time were meticulous, and their offensive was truly fierce.
Before that, Baharmut’s climate manipulation and the spirit mages the Emperor took pride in were unable to do much, and they fell.
Before that ruin, the Emperor had to choose.
- Ruin… or else…
That unknown parchment.
Should he cling to this threadbare miracle?
In truth, the answer had already been decided.
- …We go to Baharmut.
In the end, the Emperor took the parchment and went to Baharmut’s altar.
And then…
[Won, war.]
The spirit explained the time in a somewhat gloomy voice.
Based on the future Baharmut showed him, the Emperor overturned the unfavorable course of war.
Through the future, he grasped the enemy’s positions and forces in advance, and led even battles that should have been lost into victory; and even when he did lose, he minimized allied casualties and preserved strength.
And when all the wars finally ended—
[Thought, become happy again. But, no.]
The Emperor began clinging to Baharmut—ambition for power—and from that point on, Baharmut was no longer for everyone.
Only war.
Nothing more than a means to seize authority.
After that, even after the Emperor passed away, Baharmut’s owner changed again and again, but the conduct of those in power was all the same.
And so, again and again, endlessly.
[We had to see. How to kill many. Suffered. Too hard.]
A future of nothing but blood.
The faces of the future were all brutal—human crowds filled with greed, lies, and twisted obstinacy.
Recalling those memories, the spirit shuddered and finished its words.
In a way, those few hundred years were harder than the thousands of years of waiting. No—“hard” didn’t even begin to express it.
It was horrific.
As the spirit remained seized by those horrific memories, Aster’s voice came right then.
“Is that the end?”
[Yes.]
The spirit answered and cautiously lifted its gaze.
It was the first time since starting the story that it truly looked at Aster, and in the brief moment its view rose, its insides filled with anxiety.
‘Maybe….’
Would the savior, too, become stained by greed like them?
Like all the others, would he become drunk on Baharmut’s power and try to oppress them?
Of course, it had secured a promise in advance, but a sliver of unease was unavoidable. So the spirit looked at Aster with anxious feelings—
Kugugugung—!
A vibration suddenly boomed through the room.
“……!”
Aster’s group, listening to the spirit, immediately hardened their expressions and took stance.
[I- Infernal!]
The spirit screamed in a sharp voice.
In an instant, fear swept through the mind that had been full of anxiety just a moment ago.
Infernal, which had been recovering from Aster’s attack, had finished recovering and begun moving.
[Mu- must run away!]
At the spirit’s panicked cry, Aster first slung Chenbi and Demian over his shoulders and prepared to flee.
‘Tsk. I still have a ton to ask….’
His mouth felt dry and unpleasant.
More than anything, the plan to separate Demian, Chenbi, and Sunbae Mycelln and then begin the work had gone up in smoke.
But what could he do?
You avoid the disaster first.
Still, he’d learned one important fact.
‘A fragment of Yeokcheon.’
As expected, it’s here.
Five Infernal units are a bit of a problem, but still… wouldn’t this be easier than Destrow?
If not, then whatever.
