Arcan T. Artia.
Her residence was located within Magical Wisp in the coalition.
It was also a mansion on a floating island where Magic Tower Masters lived.
And within that mansion was her research laboratory.
Artia had been deeply engrossed in her research there for a long time.
In fact, over the past few months, she had scarcely left the laboratory and was focused entirely on this one study.
“Tsk, tsk… If you keep staying locked up like this, Artia, how will you be any different from this old man?”
“Oh, Grandfather.”
A white-haired old man, as sturdy as a tree covered in snow, entered Artia’s lab with a lively stride.
He was the only one permitted to enter her research space.
Arcan G. Darian.
He was Artia’s grandfather and the current head of the Magic Union.
“Child, what are you looking at so intently in that sinister thing?”
“……”
“It’s been causing quite a commotion recently. And yet, here you are, staring at it even in this place. Ah, tsk, tsk.”
Although Darian spoke that way, he refrained from telling his granddaughter to abandon her research.
He understood well enough why she was conducting it.
“People seem to live under so many misconceptions. They imagine the end of their life will be filled with warmth.”
“……”
“Something like that. Like in one of those plays where you reflect on the past while surrounded by your family in tears… and gently close your eyes in a final moment.”
But life, as it were, wasn’t like that.
One never knew when or where death would come.
Life was such that a person might be walking down the road one day, only to fall backward and die from a blow to the head.
So people had to live with death close at hand. To be prepared not to be consumed by grief when it came.
His young granddaughter, however, seemed not to grasp this truth yet.
“You went so far as to create a rain of comfort for them, despite the resentment of so many others. That alone is enough. It was a good farewell.”
“What good is a ‘good farewell’ when people are dead! In the end, it was me who caused their deaths. I…”
Even now, every time she closed her eyes, the memory of that day would return.
In particular, Dilailah’s scream which was filled with despair as she connected with the earth echoed in her ears each time she tried to sleep.
“If only I hadn’t been careless…”
As the granddaughter of a grand mage, Artia had always lived with a sense of duty that came with the title.
So, she had accepted without hesitation the dangerous task of suppressing the terror attack.
But, in the end, she had taken the lives of innocent people.
If only she had been skilled enough to avoid even the slightest lapse, could she have prevented such a tragedy?
She recalled a speech once given by the empire’s First Princess Olicia.
– Ignorance creates danger.
– Therefore, we too must understand the enemy’s power and seek ways to control it.
– Avoiding danger simply because it is dangerous serves no purpose for the future of humanity.
As the granddaughter of a grand mage and a mage herself, Artia held a considerable aversion to black magic.
Yet, as strong as that aversion was, she realized she knew nothing of black magic. Just like the First Princess had said in her speech.
And that ignorance had left her powerless to prevent the tragedy that day.
And so, from the moment Artia heard the First Princess’s speech, she began studying black magic.
“Their deaths weren’t some natural passing. It was simply murder at the hands of a careless mage.”
“…….”
This time, Darian fell silent.
His nature made him want to shield his gentle-hearted granddaughter from such a heavy burden, but in the end, a mage had to walk their own path.
Artia was beyond the stage of academy students who followed the paths others taught them. For her, overcoming this would have to be her own feat.
After all, Darian himself had gone through it, as had countless other mages.
If anything, now is the best time for her to face this. Certainly.
When the First Princess made her remarks, many mages had risen in opposition, but Darian had been among those in favor.
He too had experienced terror at the hands of black mages and survived that war.
But back then, the emperor had chosen a different path than the First Princess, so Darian had been unable to address his own shortcomings.
As Darian watched his granddaughter with a mixture of pride and sorrow, an image appeared in his mind.
The security magic cast on the mansion had activated.
“Hmm… Artia, you should still breathe the outside air every now and then. It seems that a good opportunity has come along.”
“…What?”
Seeing the image of a young girl with sharp teeth awkwardly glancing around, Darian smiled kindly.
***
“Ah, hey. It’s been a while, right?”
“Uh… yeah.”
An awkward silence settled over the elegant guest room.
Dilaila and Artia.
Both were renowned mages at the academy, second to none, yet their relationship had always been somewhat distant.
The only reason they even had a connection was because Klein was involved in the middle.
Previously, they’d only met in groups with other companions around, and whenever they discussed magical knowledge, there were usually others present.
Because of this, there was inevitably an uncomfortable tension between them when they met alone, especially since it was the first time they had seen each other since the terrorist attack.
Dilaila had been mentally eroded by the dark spirit, and Artia was overwhelmed with guilt and hadn’t been able to find the courage to reach out to her first.
“…Are you feeling okay? I heard you’ve been through a lot since that day.”
Finally, Artia was the one to break the silence.
From what she’d heard, it seemed like Dilaila had been going through a lot of trouble.
“Oh, yeah. It’s pathetic, but… a dark spirit found its way to me.”
“What? A dark spirit?!”
Artia’s eyes went wide.
Dark spirits were dangerous beings.
Everyone harbors dark emotions in their heart, and dark spirits feed and grow off those feelings in secret.
Then, they push the host’s emotions even further into that darkness, causing them to collapse mentally over time.
The problem was that realizing this was almost impossibly difficult.
If left unchecked, the host eventually loses themselves in a spiral of torment and eventually dies. Their body is then taken over by the dark spirit.
While Artia had been too buried in guilt to even approach her, Dilaila had been on the brink of death.
“Don’t look like that. I managed to overcome it somehow. Honestly, it’s pretty pathetic for a mage to get caught by something like that, don’t you think?”
“…Who’s pathetic? Even doctors don’t always realize when their own bodies are failing. Why would a mage necessarily notice?”
“Haha, well, when you put it that way, I guess you’re right.”
As their conversation finally began to flow, the awkward silence between them quietly faded away.
The two began to share what had happened since they last met.
“So, you’re studying black magic now? Impressive.”
“I figured I should at least understand the theory.”
“True… I’d thought about it myself, at least once. Not anymore, though.”
“Oh? Then what?”
“I’m planning to do a bit of traveling.”
“Traveling?”
“Yeah. With someone I know. I mentioned it earlier, right? The person who saved me from the dark spirit.”
“Ah…”
Until now, Artia had never heard that Dilaila had acquaintances beyond Klein and his companions.
After a moment, Artia nodded her head.
“So, where are you planning to go?”
“Hmm, it’s hard to explain, but it’s pretty far. If it takes a while, I might not be back until sometime next year.”
“…I see.”
At those words, Artia fell silent for a moment. Then, she took out a crystal ball.
“You remember that item I mentioned before? Bring it over, please.”
[Yes, understood, my lady.]
“.…..?”
A voice came from the crystal ball, and Dilaila tilted her head in confusion.
“What’s going on?”
“You said you’re going far away. So I figured I wouldn’t have a chance to give it to you later, so I’ll give it to you now.”
“Give it? To me? I only brought tissues…”
Following her father’s advice never to visit someone empty-handed, Dilaila had indeed brought a gift.
She’d considered buying something more expensive, but it would’ve been hard to find anything that could satisfy Artia, the granddaughter of a grand mage, at her budget. In the end, she had settled on a premium set of tissues. After all, they’d surely be useful.
To this, Artia spoke as if it were no big deal.
“…It’s nothing special. You remember that thing you ate before?”
“Ah, mhmm. Right. The shape-memory mineral.”
It was the name of the mineral they had retrieved two years ago from the dwarf outpost dungeon before the orcs began their southern advance.
“After that, you were able to use its power as it was, right? So I thought maybe you could try something else with it too.”
“Ah…”
In fact, Dilaila had used the shape-memory mineral’s power in war and made a great contribution.
The ability to rebuild a shattered fortress wall within a day was as close to a miracle as you could get in war.
“You don’t need to feel too pressured about it. I was curious how an underground member might use it, so I found it for that reason too.”
“Oh, really?”
It did feel a bit like she was being used as a test subject, but honestly, Dilaila didn’t mind.
Though she hadn’t said it out loud, she was already preparing for the right time to enter the Nikar Desert, one of the Seven Great Cradles. Such a special mineral would be invaluable.
Knock, knock—
Not long after, someone knocked and entered the room.
But it wasn’t just one person.
Five people entered and they carefully set down several “items” on the table in the guest room.
“Wh-What…?”
“Shall we start with these, then?”
The mineral Artia mentioned wasn’t just one.
***
After a long absence, Shane returned to the orcs’ stronghold and now sat across from Batukan, the old temple guard orc.
Though Batukan treated Shane the same as always, a newfound respect shone in his gaze, something that hadn’t been there before.
“You’ve returned.”
“Yes. How are things?”
“The young orcs who have completed the coming-of-age ceremony are ready to be deployed to battle.”
“Good. In the near future, we’ll be crossing this canyon. It won’t be as simple as last time, so make sure you’re fully prepared.”
At those words, a fiery spark seemed to flash in Batukan’s eyes.
For the past two years, the orcs had been diligently working to relocate their stronghold.
The new location was in the mountain range of the Great Mezaiya Forest, the place Shane and Dilaila had discussed earlier.
Though not as cold as Arunvida, the climate in this mountain range was still chilly, and it was an ideal place to acclimate to harsher conditions before leaving the warmth of the desert.
“But I think it’s about time we made a decision.”
“A decision? About what?”
“It’s time to choose the next great chieftain.”
“Hmm.”
At that, Shane looked at Batukan for a moment.
He wondered why Bakutan was asking him, as if it wasn’t something they could decide on their own.
“Aren’t you the representative of the gods? Many of the young ones are waiting for your word.”
“No. I won’t be the one to decide.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I’ve told you before. You orcs aren’t a people who need to worship gods. Don’t look to an all-knowing god that no longer even exists. Just as you once sensed magic within yourselves and nurtured it to reach this point, don’t rely on anything else. That will only slow your growth.”
Batukan’s eyes grew deeper at those words.
Blind faith can sometimes bring unexpected progress, but excess in anything is never wise.
The orcs were once completely consumed by the power of blood magic, which was a gift given to them by the Mountain King. They believed that it was all there was.
However, the moment their god disappeared, the orcs faced a hard limit.
Shane had advised the orcs not to fall into that kind of future again.
Part of him simply disliked the idea of being worshiped as some kind of pseudo-god.
“I’ll follow your advice. Then, may I make the choice myself?”
“If you believe it will benefit the tribe, go ahead.”
“I will.”
With those words, Shane spent a final moment surveying the orcs’ stronghold, and before long, he received a call from Dilaila.
The time had come to head toward the Nikar Desert.
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