Chapter 518 - D - 0
Eastern Continent, Kingdom of Estiria.
It had already been well over a year since "Samwell's Tavern", settled in Rines, the great city ruled by the Ducal House of Esperanza, had opened its doors, and as usual, it was bustling with life.
"Two more of the special fruit cocktails here!"
"Four on this side!"
"Yes, yes! Coming right up!"
There wasn't a single moment to rest, as he busied himself cutting fruit for the customers. Still, after doing it repeatedly, even this hardship had become somewhat familiar.
After finishing another round of evening business, Samwell saw his staff off.
"Phew, from now on I should really start wearing thicker clothes."
His breath came out in white puffs.
Snow was falling heavily from the night sky.
Not wanting his shoulders and hair to get soaked and risk catching a cold, he quickened his steps.
Once a guide of the underworld Roafra, who boasted a spotless record, now Samwell had become the owner of a famous tavern in Rines.
Each day was rewarding.
He entered the house he had purchased a few months earlier, washed up simply, then entered his second-floor room and threw himself down onto his soft bed.
When he opened his eyes again, it was morning.
Rubbing his eyes, he went down the stairs.
"You're up early today? Yesterday you slept until lunch. Come on, breakfast is ready."
"Thanks, I'll eat well."
"You too, sit down, Aiden."
"Oh, just a second… let me finish this first!"
Samwell, Charlotte, and Aiden.
The three who had met through fate back in Roafra now lived under the same roof.
There was no discomfort at all.
The house was two-storied, each had their own room, and there was more than enough space for them to avoid any awkwardness.
Samwell loved this safe life in the great city, far removed from the dangerous streets of the underground city.
Meanwhile, the siblings who had once been slaves to the underworld boss Ruin Costa had nearly forgotten those pains since being saved by Asher, and were now enjoying happiness.
"How's your studying coming along these days?"
"Of course, brother. Grandpa Edmon teaches us so well."
"Sir Carlo is very passionate too. Sometimes, a little too heated though."
Neither of them worked at the tavern anymore.
Currently, Aiden, as a first-tier Mage, was learning magical studies from Edmon Rodliner, the Magus of the Ducal House of Esperanza.
Of course, his unique trait that imbued healing effects into magic power was kept secret. He had promised never to reveal it recklessly.
And Charlotte, dreaming of becoming a priest, was receiving the teachings of Luas's Church from Carlo in order to gain divine power.
Incidentally, Carlo was the one who had healed Charlotte's vocal cords, which had been cut when she was tortured by Ruin Costa, after she was kidnapped by Asher and Owl.
In any case, priests aside, having a connection to a Magus was an incredibly rare fortune.
And from none other than the Ducal House of Esperanza.
───Hoho, at my age, nurturing a young Mage with a bright future is a fulfilling thing. Don't decline, just think of it as humoring an old man's hobby.
Perhaps it had been chance that Edmon, noticing Aiden's magical talent, decided to teach him magic.
But opportunities like these had come to them only thanks to Asher, Galliark, and others who had helped them.
"Thanks for the meal, Charlotte. Then I'll go ahead and move the ingredients."
"Should I help if there's a lot to carry? I happen to be free today."
"I'll help too, brother."
"Oh, I was actually about to call someone to help me. If you'll come along, I'd be grateful."
So they bundled themselves warmly and stepped outside. The sky was clear, and the streets were covered in snow that had fallen overnight.
By the time they reached the tavern, a wagon loaded with supplies had already arrived.
"You've arrived already? Sorry if we kept you waiting."
"Oh no, not at all! We've just arrived, just now! Meeting you right on time must be fate. Hahaha!"
Recently, the strained relationship between the Principality of Riviant and the Kingdom of Estiria had begun to ease, a warmth returning.
The Con Merchant Guild was proof of that.
With permission granted, the merchant from the Baron of Pythe's domain in the Principality, "Conrad", had crossed over.
He distributed foodstuffs, trying to spread the name of his family-run guild throughout the kingdom while making connections.
"That talkative uncle…"
Charlotte and Aiden quietly stepped back in distaste.
Not that they disliked him.
But his endless chatter was burdensome. Last time, when they missed the chance to excuse themselves, they had been stuck for a full hour.
"Ah, good day to you both. I must apologize for last time. To make amends, I brought some fruit. Ah, and where did I get this fruit, you ask, well──"
"This time, keep it short…"
Just as Samwell was about to stop Conrad's mouth from running,
a luxurious carriage bearing the crest of the Ducal House halted in the middle of the street. It was obvious who was inside.
"It's good to see you all working hard."
Leaning on her chin, Calia showed her face out the carriage window. Her signature dark-crimson hair flowed down her shoulders.
And there was another passenger inside.
"Hello, how have you been?"
It was the informant, Perne.
Now affiliated with the Ducal House of Esperanza, she would often visit Rines to deliver private information.
Though by appearances, she seemed more like a traveler here for leisure.
Whoosh.
Her companion, the spirit Blue, was also with her, though hiding deep inside the carriage in case any disturbance arose.
As greetings were exchanged, Conrad quickly bent at the waist.
"Conrad of the Con Merchant Guild, hailing from the Principality of Riviant, greets the noble Lady of the great Ducal House of Esperanza!"
"Oh? You know me?"
"But of course. You are the noble Lady of the great Ducal House, the sword of justice known as White Steel, and the respected mediator between Roafra and the Kingdom of Estiria, Lady Calia herself—how could I not know?"
"Uh… well, alright. That's enough."
Calia cleared her throat to draw attention elsewhere.
"Anyway, I came to deliver good news. It concerns Asher."
"Sir Asher?"
Everyone's eyes turned at once.
Calia unfolded the newspaper she had with her.
Inside was a detailed illustration, depicting none other than Asher's full figure and the landscape of the Ownerless Land.
"Recently, some papers have started including drawings like this. The Artison Magic Tower is partly funding it."
"It was very hard to get one."
"Wow…"
Seeing Asher's face again after so long, their eyes shone with joy. Some even showed admiration.
Quick to notice, Calia spoke first.
"Sorry, but I can't give this to anyone. It's far too rare. If I get another, I'll consider it."
No concessions.
This was non-negotiable.
Calia habitually stroked the bracelet inlaid with a blue gem—Asher's gift.
And then.
"Ohh, to see Sir Asher again like this! Haha, this truly stirs old feelings. Has it really been so long…"
"?"
All eyes turned toward Conrad, who was muttering to himself.
Aiden asked.
"Um, do you know Sir Asher personally?"
"What? Oh, yes! Of course! Sir Asher. It was by a fateful coincidence that we met. Two years ago, when I was heading to Baron Pythe's estate, we were attacked by bandits. My guards fled, I was chased by goblins and orcs, and just as my wagon broke down at a tree root and I was about to die—bam!!! Sir Asher appeared and saved my life with overwhelming magic! I knew right then, he would one day become a great Mage who would shake the entire continent! And as you all know, he did! The King of Roafra, Honorary Baron of Estiria, the slayer of the Bone-Relic Dragon, the Ownerless Land! Each rumor I heard since filled me with awe—"
Conrad was on a roll.
Yet, thanks to his clear diction, his tale carried a sense of immersion.
This merchant's silver tongue was perfectly suited for a storyteller.
It was winter.
D - 33
***
Central Continent, Ownerless Land.
Just as it had been at the Black Volcano, the lightning-infused lava created underground by a Transcendent served as a powerful energy source for the facility.
"Heave-ho! Heave-ho!"
"Beer! Beer!"
"Chicken! Pork!"
Alongside that, under Geradin's lead, the dwarves of the village worked tirelessly in three shifts, pouring their strength into the active facilities.
Gharun once again stood at the center.
Clang!
He swung his hammer.
He struck the metal.
He heated it.
He cooled it.
He added.
...
The work that had continued for centuries had never once lacked sincerity, never once lost its purpose.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
He alternated between hammering the dragon's ribs and claws taken from the furnace with Markuab.
Between each hammer strike, the facility Linus controlled dropped two great hammers vertically, supplementing the missing impact.
'This is different from [Interis].'
Without a dragon's fresh blood, it was impossible to fully melt down the keel's properties, so the best option was to process the material into something close to that state.
He placed it into the furnace, heated it with fire, pulled it out, hammered it madly, returned it to the flames, veins bulging in his thick arms as he brought the hammer down.
About ten days passed like that.
Gradually reddening, at last the two dragon keels glowed bright crimson.
The time had come.
Gharun opened the roof of the furnace, leaned in, and let out a roar.
"Haaaap!"
Craaaack───crrrrack-crrack-crrack!
The dragon's claws, with relatively weaker durability, gave way before the dwarf's stubbornness, shattering into pieces.
Their sharpness damaged the inside of the furnace slightly, but it was no real problem.
"Linus, you take that one."
"Huh? Me?"
"If you say 'Huh?' or 'Me?' one more time in front of me, you'll never touch dragon materials again."
"..."
"Do you understand!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Uagh!"
Struck head-on by the roar, Linus clutched his ears and rolled across the floor, but his craftsman's spirit didn't falter.
Rolling to his station, he jumped up, adjusted the furnace and hammer, and began pounding at the dragon's rib.
"He only wakes up when someone yells at him. When else will you ever get a chance to work on a dragon's keel? Tch, tch."
Clicking his tongue, Gharun gathered every fragment of the shattered claw, hammering and grinding it until it became powder.
Even though the largest piece was no bigger than two knuckles, and its durability had already been heavily damaged, it still took a full day.
"Phew, the claws are ready."
Looking to Linus's side, the ribs still needed more time before they would break apart.
He would finish the sword in the meantime.
Gharun checked the alloy metal he had melted to exact proportions, then turned to the furnace beside it.
The broken magic sword, Cadence.
After being heated for a long time by current-charged flames, the blue blade had turned red and unstable.
The upcoming work was simple and clear.
Pour the supreme alloy, infused with dragon claw powder, into the mold to form the body of the blade.
Fuse it with a part of Cadence, uniting their properties. After that, it would only require forging and fine crafting.
Speed.
That was the theme for the sword's new owner.
'And…'
From the dragon's ribs, he would craft an "accessory" for that heteromorph Magus, together with Linus.
Linus had deep expertise in accessory work, so the one-armed disciple was more than qualified to lead this part of the creation.
"At least I'm lucky with disciples."
All the dwarf apprentices of his era had refused to go to the Black Volcano, leaving him, but the human blacksmith he had raised since childhood had stayed by his side to the end.
In short, Linus was the human Gharun had acknowledged.
Even if he never put it into words.
"One-armed disciple! Hold onto your senses to the end, and do it properly!"
"Ah, damn it! I'm about to die from exhaustion, quit nagging me already!"
Insolent brat.
"Khahahahahaha!"
D - 25
***
Great City, Gargant.
In this world, there exists a center that defines all things and all existence.
Because of it, the worthy can have ideals, form groups, establish concepts.
But if the center wavers, everything becomes unstable.
Ideals shatter, groups collapse, concepts distort.
Therefore the center must remain unchanging, absolute.
Because of the center, this world has existed as it has.
Because of the center, this world can exist as it is.
Because of the center, this world can continue to endure.
"Oh, O Luas."
In the city of snow and storm winds,
in a deep alley, an old giant cloaked in rags prayed.
He was the vagrant who had once witnessed the game of Ignacia's Scales.
Branded long ago as a fanatic, he had preached mad devotion to the Church of Luas to every passerby.
No one paid heed to his mutterings, nor cared for his wretched life.
And that mattered not.
The same went for everything else.
Even if two Transcendents secretly gathered late at night to conspire about the essence of mana circuits, or whatever plots they devised—it was meaningless.
Even if, due to strange phenomena unknown even to the old man, every means of glimpsing the world's fate had been twisted—it meant nothing.
In the end, there was only one path.
What the old man had once believed to be the last hope… what now seemed nothing but pitiful, was the spawn of Transcendence.
No matter how this era exalted them, they were mere mortals.
The outcome was already decided.
No matter how the world might twist in days ahead, it was but the eternal cycle of fate.
"So I shall wait."
All things as you will it.
Resistance without alternatives holds no value.
D - 13
***
Western Continent, Bohemirn Magic Tower.
Before the memorial stones of the Mages who had died or gone missing in the runaway energy incident, Rovellin stood watch.
Missing person No. 32, Verden.
Though over two years had passed, nearing three, it still didn't feel real. She didn't know if that was because it truly wasn't, or because her heart refused it.
"..."
What was she supposed to do now?
Even if she burned with hatred for Black Hour, she honestly didn't know if revenge was possible.
The Western Continent's Tower Alliance was too busy protecting their own safety to deal with Black Hour. Even Bohemirn Tower, the direct victim.
"If only I had…"
She couldn't finish the thought.
Because she knew it was nothing but words.
Rovellin lowered her head deeply.
Tap.
Then, something fell from the sky.
The first snow.
Winter had come to the Western Continent too.
Looking at the snow that adorned the memorial stones, Rovellin slowly turned away. Surely she would return tomorrow.
To melt away the snow piled upon the stones.
D - 7
***
Footsteps echoed in the silence.
His condition was perfect.
Nothing lacking.
Across all his past, Verden's power was now at its absolute peak.
Adrian stepped forward, representing the others, and wished him well.
"Go and return in triumph, my lord."
"Yes."
At last, Verden stood before them all, revealing his full dignity.
"I leave the rear to you."
Verden passed through the corridor of space, heading for the ruined capital.
The appointed time drew near.
D - 0
The Magic War had arrived.
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