By Zephyria 
With every breath Boulder exhaled, the foul stench made my nose tingle.
It was truly fortunate that the Sylphs helped me when I went inside the turtle’s belly before. I never knew it would smell this vile. I’ve seen my fair share of rotting corpses. Even I, who have encountered thousands upon thousands of bodies, was startled by the chilling stench.
Death brings fear. The workers from Eldos, who had never encountered a violently deceased body, all turned pale as rabbits facing a tiger, staring blankly in our direction.
Still, Ivan Bikoff should have said something.
But when I looked back, his face was also deathly pale. I was a little surprised. After all, no matter how much of a seasoned hand Ivan is, he must not have encountered many dead bodies. Dealing with corpses is a job for someone like me. Thinking that, I felt I had to resolve this matter quickly.
Looking down at the crown of Mage Boulder’s head, still kneeling and bowing, I asked,
“…What are you suddenly saying? You were ordered to investigate the Golden Turtle.”
Then Boulder snapped his head up. The light in his eyes glinted. He looked like a complete madman. Now that I saw him, he had something black smudged on his cheek; perhaps he had just emerged from the Golden Turtle’s belly without washing.
He chattered loudly and quickly.
“No, I was going to do that too! But then I thought about it, and the Young Master and Your Highness are going to Biban this time. Aren’t you heading to the Frozen Lake of Memories? The Golden Turtle is already a caught fish, and who knows what other mysterious and interesting, no, dangerous things might happen! I was wondering if you might consider taking a useful, healthy, and strong wizard like myself. Two of my friends here are enough for this place. Absolutely. If you say no, then let me cling to the bottom of the carriage and follow you!”
“We’re… riding horses, not a carriage.”
“Then I’ll hang onto the horses’ legs!”
How could I handle this? I felt greatly embarrassed, as if he were clinging to me under the guise of our acquaintance. With a worried heart, I looked back at Ruben.
However, the child had a thoroughly affectionate expression. I could now read that expression, tinged with a bit of artifice. It was like looking at a well-trimmed fruit. It even resembled, just a little, the way he looked at Miguel Ereira… Did it? Is this… a good thing?
As I looked at Ruben, Mage Boulder also looked at Ruben.
Ruben gently chided Mage Boulder in a kind voice.
“It would be best to use Clean Magic first. Then we’ll go together. Did you pack your belongings?”
“Yes!”
Instantly, the foul stench that had filled the surroundings vanished.
I was surprised, having only encountered him within the Shierun Academy, where magic was always forbidden. Not only Mage Boulder but an area of about fifty meters around him was instantly cleaned. I had always found it hard to believe he was a 7th Circle Mage, but seeing him skillfully handle incantations with Shadowless Incantation, it was clear he was of a higher caliber.
Without realizing it, I pulled my wrist and sniffed it. The scent of holy oil was gone too. I decided I’d reapply it later when I had a chance. Then, a question suddenly arose.
“…No, if you can clean up this easily, why do you go around smelling like that?”
“Well, this is also proof that I went inside the Golden Turtle and came out… I wanted to keep it with me for a little longer. What wizard in the world gets to rummage through the innards of a holy relic? It’s better to cherish such glory for as long as possible.”
It was a statement that made me deeply worried whether including him in the party was the right choice.
Regardless, Mage Boulder was uncharacteristically quiet during the preparation time. The well-prepared workers skillfully loaded the luggage.
Our party rode horses in a diamond formation, proceeding along the main road as if on a march.
Three guides, holding large banners, led the procession.
The one at the very front held a blue banner bearing a scale emblem with an ornate design. It was the mark of the Second Prince of Shierun. The banners held by the two beside him were slightly smaller and golden than the blue one, with no emblems. Instead, they had golden tassels that scattered light in all directions, drawing attention.
Right behind them were Rubel and I, followed by Ivan and his wife. Mage Boulder was behind them. A procession of workers, arranged in three lines, followed us on horseback.
From a distance, the people of the Yulan Kingdom saw the banners and moved aside.
As we walked along the road, some of the onlookers gathered on both sides clapped. Cheers were also heard. A child threw a flower towards us, and when I caught it, a fresh wave of exclamations erupted. Then someone shouted.
“Thank you, Your Highness!”
“Thank you for returning the Golden Turtle!”
“We love you!”
“Thank you! Yulan welcomes you!”
…Isn’t the matter of the Golden Turtle’s whereabouts still under negotiation?
Rubel, who was riding beside me, gave a wry smile. Puzzled, I quickly asked,
“What are they saying?”
“It’s Yulan’s preemptive move. It seems they’ve planted a few people to stir up public opinion… There’s no point in engaging with this. Let’s just go, Mika.”
Then Mage Boulder suddenly raised his staff.
A large Golden Turtle appeared above the heads of our party. It was an illusion spell, adjusting the refractive index of light to create a visually impressive form.
The weightless Golden Turtle was astonishingly detailed. Its slow blinking, the upward curve of its mouth, and its step-by-step forward movement were all rendered perfectly.
An immense cheer swept through the surroundings.
Beside the Golden Turtle, a golden dragon of similar size appeared. Its belly was not excessively distended, its scales along its back shone brilliantly, and its long tail swayed elegantly.
As the turtle and dragon walked side by side, the crowd that had gathered earlier swelled, lining both sides of the road.
Ruben, looking up at the sight, smiled.
“Walking side by side… A good choice.”
“Indeed. Though no one knows who they’re walking with or how far they’ll go.”
Ahem, Mage Boulder boasted, lifting his chin. This time, I couldn’t help but acknowledge his skill. If the Golden Turtle is Yulan’s symbol, then the Golden Dragon is Shierun’s. I was greatly impressed, realizing that bringing a wizard along always yielded benefits in some way.
A gust of wind blew. They intertwined in the air.
The Sylphs I had seen before bloomed one by one in the air like flowers, drifting like dandelion seeds. Their joyful exclamations echoed overhead. Like looking at the resurrected Golden Turtle, the voices of the Sylphs, rubbing against the intangible light, rejoicing and clapping, were clear.
[It’s the Golden Turtle!]
[Is it the Blue Turtle? It’s the Golden Turtle!]
[It looks happy! It’s smiling!]
The Sylphs drift everywhere in the air, so they must have seen the Golden Turtle’s corpse. They must have known I had slain countless ancient spirits. Yet, how could they smile so brightly?
A sense of inexplicable guilt clouded my vision, but then I felt relieved that at least they were happy and joyful.
Someone’s death is not easily forgotten, but it can also remain as a fond memory. A faint longing filled my chest. Thanks to that, I was able to quickly shake off my sorrow and compose myself.
The party arrived before a white palace.
At the Yulan Royal Castle, Annabella, Gerald, Estria, and Vicente—all four Yulan royal siblings—were present. Since Rubel was of princely status, it would be inappropriate for the King of Yulan himself to see them off. It was proper for those of equivalent age and standing to come out and bid farewell.
Annabella’s expression was peculiar as she looked down at the Golden Turtle and Dragon hovering above our heads.
After all the laborers had disembarked, Ruben and our party dismounted. Ruben stood beside the royal siblings. Annabella extended her hand to Ruben for a handshake, and Ruben took her hand in front of all the Yulan citizens.
Annabella whispered,
“…Seeing things like this.”
“Yes.”
“I truly think it’s amazing. You surprise us in unexpected ways every time.”
It wasn’t a question that required an answer. Both I and Ruben smiled at her spontaneous admiration.
After the handshake, Annabella, not forgetting the favor, offered her sincere thanks.
“Thank you so much for your help. And…”
“Yes. We will contact you when a solution arises. If any unusual circumstances occur, feel free to contact the Shierun Imperial Palace using my name at any time. Once received, we will find a way.”
“Yes. Still, I feel a bit relieved knowing we can receive help from a Prince like you…”
Estria and Vicente, standing beside their older siblings, smiled brightly. Thinking the older ones had finished their greetings, they also put on a charming act, bowing and rising from one knee, acting coy.
“You’re going to make Elijah better, aren’t you, brothers? Can you really do that?”
Ruben bent his large frame to look down at the children. The smile that bloomed on his lips was incredibly kind and beautiful. In front of the many eyes watching from near and far, Ruben replied in a clear voice,
“I will do my best. As much as I can, I will do so sufficiently.”
…It meant he couldn’t give a definitive answer.
Ruben never spoke carelessly. Another grand applause erupted. Only the expressions of the First Princess and the Second Prince, who understood his meaning immediately, stiffened.
The Golden Turtle and Golden Dragon above our heads dissolved into light and scattered softly. The Sylphs’ laughter still tinkled. I also saw some elderly people and children praying with clasped hands towards the sky. As they watched the dissipating form of the Golden Turtle, many people began humming a lullaby.
On an afternoon when warm sunlight shone overhead and a salty breeze tickled our backs.
Our party, after receiving another bow from the four princesses and princes, mounted their horses.
Will we ever have reason to visit Yulan again?
It was impossible to know. My stomach churned with an inexplicable feeling.
406 – 406.
If Yulan was a country of the vast and cheerful sea, Biban was a country of the solemn and tranquil plains.
The geography and specialties of the five kingdoms, studied long ago, flickered in the back of my memory. Biban, thanks to the abundant water of its large, deep Lake of Memories and its warm, temperate climate, allowed grains to grow easily, but due to the lake’s influence, it was said to be covered in thick fog every early morning, year-round.
Midday, the third Thursday of February.
The party stopped before a jet-black bridge spanning Makabi Cliff.
It was a bridge that had been painted black to avoid detection by others when crossing secretly at night. The black paint had peeled off at every broken or worn section, revealing the pale, faded wood beneath, which made it easy to gauge the danger visually.
The problem was the fog. Despite adjusting our schedule to avoid the notoriously foggy dawn, visibility was still poor. The fog was so thick that nothing could be seen on the other side of the cliff, and the black bridge itself became a hazy blur from the midpoint onward.
A slight commotion arose among the laborers. Fear of the unknown darkened their faces.
What if monsters awaited them on the other side of the bridge, or what if they were attacked by monsters while crossing and couldn’t even notice? It was fortunate that the bridge hadn’t broken or sagged, but with such poor visibility, they couldn’t cross with peace of mind.
Fortunately, we had brought a capable Mage with us.
Instead of offering various explanations, Ruben cast his gaze towards Boulder, who still wore a cheerful smile. Then, in a polite tone, he simply called his name.
“Mage Boulder.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll start by drawing in some wind. Everyone, hold onto your hats tightly.”
Boulder, understanding immediately, excitedly drew his staff and took a stance.
Immediately, centered on Mage Boulder, wind began to blow from the southwest towards the northeast. The gentle breeze quickly found a powerful current. Mana waves rippled, and the fog that had filled their vision was swept away like a sigh.
Whoosh,
Hum,
Thud.
But the joy was short-lived.
The receding fog was trapped in the middle of the cliff, forming a distinct shape as if contained within a glass bottle.
“…What is this…?”
A voice, I didn’t know who it belonged to, reached my ears.
I felt the exact same way. A wall of fog stood from the highest point of the sky down to the dizzying depths of the cliff. The surface of the formed fog was smooth and uniform. It looked as if some colossal being had driven down a giant shield to cleave the world in two.
Mage Boulder’s drooping eyes widened, and his large mouth formed a round ‘O’. He blinked a couple of times, then let out a muffled, dazed voice like a frog on a summer night.
“Uh… the mana is frozen over there? It won’t budge even if I push it.”
“Mana is frozen?”
“So, it’s… it looks like there’s some kind of Magic Circle installed on the other side? But why? Is this even fog? It looks like it’s just capturing and trapping mana… or it could be an earlier stage of some magic implementation. The atmospheric mana density is abnormally high. This should be over 30 mp… The atmospheric mana concentration in the Biban Kingdom usually settles around 10 mp… Uh, uh… this is strange… Even if several Spirits died in Yulan, how could the mana density have risen this much already?”
His muttering was filled with doubt rather than certainty.
Ruben murmured with a grave expression.
“Then the Fly spell won’t work either.”
“Yes. It’ll probably break down the spell formula at that boundary and fall. I can’t do it.”
Next, I decided to try calling the Sylphs.
“Siiilph!”
I called out multiple times, my voice echoing through the cliff, but it was no use.
I called their names, shouted for them to come, and even jumped up and down. Still, no Spirits appeared. More than feeling embarrassed, I was bothered by Ruben’s increasingly serious expression as he watched me, so I deliberately made a great fuss.
However, not even a wisp of wind, let alone a Sylph, appeared.
Now, there was truly only one method left.
Ruben wore a displeased expression, but I, having received a bundle of lumber and ropes for bridge repair from the laborers, merely cleared my throat awkwardly.
If the bridge became unstable, we could just turn back. If it broke, I could grab the broken rope with my strong arms and climb back up. If that rope broke, I could climb the cliff face. At least I was better suited for this than anyone else present.
Wanting to appease Ruben somehow, I gently took his small hand and pulled.
“I’ll be back soon.”
“… .”
“Huh?”
Ruben, who would cling to me and act spoiled in front of his friends or other close nobles, was now putting on a show of dignity in front of the citizens he had to govern. Despite his clearly displeased look, he remained quiet and composed.
But his gaze was burning hot. Ruben simply looked at me and didn’t reply. My neck felt hot, and I grew thirsty.
I called out to him again, seeking permission.
“Rubel.”
Only then did the boy let out a shallow breath and squeeze my hand once before letting go. His gaze was so forlorn and pitiful that my eyes lingered on his long, dark eyelashes as they fell.
“…Yes. Be careful.”
“Understood.”
If I could, I would have liked to stand here looking at him like this forever. But could I? As soon as I received permission, I turned away. My cheeks and ears tingled.
I strode onto the bridge.
Near the entrance of the bridge, there were signs of repeated repairs, but from the middle onward, both the footboards and handrails looked considerably worn. Some ropes were tied and re-tied several times, making them very thick, while others remained as they were, quite thin.
I had wondered what use learning to weave vines at the Academy would be, but it proved very helpful today. I reinforced the thin handrails by weaving or braiding new ropes as I walked. By the time I had crossed two-thirds of the bridge, only half of the original rope bundle remained.
The damp fog seemed to swallow all surrounding sounds, leaving everything in silence.
I was crossing the bridge cautiously.
Scrape.
Scrape, scrape.
Suspicious sounds came from ahead. I immediately looked towards the other end of the bridge. A small shadow, shimmering through the fog, was doing something near the end of the bridge. When I saw it, it saw me too.
It was about the size of a ten-year-old child, with green skin and long, pointed ears.
A Goblin.
One of the two Goblins held a sword in its hand. It was trying to cut the ropes that bound the bridge with a sword as tall as itself. The other Goblin jumped around beside it, causing all sorts of commotion, urging it to hurry.
And then, both of them made eye contact with me.
“Heeek!”
“Kkik! Kkikuk!”
As the Goblin’s startled hiccuping began with a ‘hee’, I immediately lunged forward. In the blink of an eye, one of the bridge’s binding ropes snapped, but at the same moment, my sword split the Goblin in two. After easily dispatching one Goblin, I looked at the other.
The Goblin, its green skin appearing white with fear, rolled to flee, but how could such a small creature escape my grasp? I struck it down with my scabbard. It lay there, unable to resist, and fainted.
A large pack was slung over its back.
Was this a treasure goblin, the kind often seen near the oases of the Shatun Desert?
If so, why was it here? And what was its reason for trying to cut the bridge?
As I pondered, a small disturbance came from the other side of the cliff. Turning back, I saw that one side of the bridge was hanging loosely due to the snapped rope. This seemed to have startled the children on the other side.
I quickly tied the Goblin I had caught to a nearby tree and pulled up the severed rope. I re-secured the broken rope to the fixed stake and wove in the new rope, stabilizing the bridge.
Meanwhile, I expanded my Qi sense to survey the surroundings as much as possible. It was an empty field. I felt no trace of other monsters or people besides this Goblin. After surveying for a while longer, I crossed the bridge again to return to the party.
As soon as Ruben saw my face, he leaped into my arms.
I felt extremely embarrassed, but the feeling of guilt was greater than shame. Seeing his broad shoulders tremble, I felt immense pity and held him close, comforting him for a long time. All of us, including the two of us, endured that time in silence.
My eyes met Ivan’s. He pointed at Ruben with his fingertip, then made a walking motion with his index and middle fingers, pointed at the cliff, and drew a line across his throat. Then, he placed his index finger next to his head and spun it around. The meaning of his gestures was obvious. He was exaggerating, pretending he thought the boy was going to die following me.
It was absurd.
Ruben was far too intelligent and sharp to do something like that without proper confirmation.
I waved my hand, dismissing it. I just smiled wryly.
In any case, the bridge had been repaired, so it was time to cross. I first helped Boulder cross the bridge. Then, I assisted half the laborers and a couple of horses as they crossed in pairs, one after another.
Some horses, thoroughly frightened, whinnied and resisted, but how could they match my strength? I lifted the lead horse overhead and carried it across. After that, all the horses cooperated docilely, allowing me to move them comfortably beyond the cliff.
Next, I watched Ruben and Ivan cross the bridge, and finally, I moved the remaining laborers across.
I brought Boulder over first because he was capable of surviving even if he encountered a monster horde alone. I crossed the bridge multiple times myself to protect the people, anticipating the possibility of flying monsters appearing.
The last two laborers crossed the bridge safely.
The party surrounded the Goblin I had captured and were observing it. Mage Boulder poked the Goblin, urging it to speak, but it remained tied to the tree, its lips sealed, trembling as if in spasms, making no sound.
“Is this a treasure goblin?”
“Well… it does seem a bit larger than a regular Goblin…”
“Even so, it’s not even 120cm. That’s average. It cut the bridge with a sword?”
“Yes. But that sword…”
I showed the sword the dead Goblin had been holding to the party. Ruben’s expression hardened, and Ivan let out a short snort of laughter. Sienna gasped and blinked. The longsword, too unwieldy for a Goblin to handle easily, was originally made for human use.
And on its hilt, a famous emblem, recognizable to all of us, was engraved.
“…This is Imperial-made, isn’t it?”
“Yes. It’s a Grimsvein product.”