I seemed to be the only one unable to keep up with the situation.
Guys...you all are so hyped up, aren’t you?
“Um...I’d prefer if we could stop calling everything a trial...”
“Currently on hiatus? No worries: no preparations required! Not only would it not take long, but you’re also going to see the benefits rather immediately! This is the training that will elevate you to a level on par with Lucia as Magi! I’ll let you all in on a little secret: this is actually our party’s exclusive secret training recipe, Krai’s special secret training recipe. But today, we’re making it available for everyone’s sake!”
Skepticism shone in everyone’s eyes upon hearing those words.
Lucia Rogier was universally recognized as the preeminent Magus in the capital. Her presence was exactly the reason Starlight, the party of ever-supercilious, human-despising Noble Spirits, had joined First Steps.
However, the idea that anyone could become Lucia’s equal as Magi seemed like nothing more than a joke. It sounded like a joke to me at least. Or rather, I had absolutely no recollection whatsoever of such a training method—this was just too groundbreaking a training method.
“This training is designed specifically for Magi, so unfortunately, not everyone will be able to participate—but, once you undergo this training, your power as Magi—and as hunters—is going to grow dramatically without a doubt. Of course, participation is not mandatory—anyone here would like to withdraw from the training?”
Befuddled by Sitri’s brusque request, the gathered party members exchanged glances.
Did she seriously just ask “if anyone would like to withdraw,” instead of “if anyone would like to take part”?
Marietta, who was listening to the conversation next to Sven, timidly raised her hand. Though she wasn’t wearing her robes and such, probably due to her being on her day off, a small staff could be seen hanging at her waist.
“Are you sure...that this is really safe? Krai has also said the recent investigation quest wouldn’t be dangerous too...”
Marietta’s piercing gaze is killing me...
“I assure you. I’m not as strict as Krai.”
“Training that convenient? I’ve never heard of anything like that. What’s the catch?” asked a hunter with a doubtful look.
As expected from a hunter, they seemed to be on board even though they were mostly wheedled to take part—what a motivated bunch.
In response to the skeptical question, Sitri placed a finger on her lips and tilted her head in a cute pose.
“Well, let me see... Mana depletion will be part of the training, so it might be tough for those who are not accustomed to it. Though I’m sure everyone in First Steps should have a fair amount of experience with that, so you’ll all be fine... But if there’s any Magus who can’t handle that kind of thing, you might be better off not taking part.”
“There’s no such Magi here. Every Magus would’ve experienced something as normal as mana depletion at some point,” said Marietta in an exasperated tone.
Several voices of agreement echoed around her.
“Mana depletion will heal quickly, so rest assured. I’ll cover the mana restoration potions for that purpose. By the way...uh...I don’t mean to make fun of anyone or anything...but is there anyone here who can’t stand the bitterness of mana restoration potions?”
The Magi in the room exchanged glances in response to her hesitant question. Their discontent was evident in their expressions.
Mana restoration potions were useful for hunting, but they had a well-known downside—they tasted extremely horrible. Their pungency and bitterness, which seemed to correlate with their effectiveness, were said to be a taste incomparable to anything in this world. Even seasoned Magi hesitated to drink them in life-threatening situations because of that.
I’d had one sip of what Lucia had been drinking before, and the moment it’d touched my tongue, I’d lost consciousness and woken up only several hours later. Since then, Magi had been people of my admiration. Drinking mana restoration potions without hesitation seemed to be a mark of top-notch Magi.
One of the Magi exchanging glances spoke up in a seemingly dissatisfied tone, “Don’t be ridiculous. We may not be at the same level as you lot, but we are still practicing Magi. We’ve had our fair share of mana restoration potions, and we’re not faltering now.”
“I apologize. In that case...I believe there won’t be any issues,” said Sitri.
She bowed her head slightly in apology, and she once again looked at the faces of the gathered individuals.
With a serious expression, she opened her lips and said, “Now, let me go over this one final time: This...is our secret training recipe. If anyone turns down this offer now, I’m afraid you’re most likely not going to have another chance at it. That being said, it’s also true that this is not something you do immediately after a major quest. I won’t force anyone to join, but once you’re on board, I expect you to see it through to the end. So, is there anyone here who doesn’t want to participate in this training?”
...I should’ve mentioned earlier, but Sitri was quite the guileful person. Her apparent innocence belied a deep cunning that bordered on duplicitous. Sitri always acted with caution; she didn’t lie, but she had a proclivity for circumlocution. Among my childhood friends, she was one of those whose choice of words demanded the most discernment. For instance, if Sitri said something wouldn’t be deadly, she may have skipped the fact that it could be excruciatingly painful—often, there was crucial information hidden in what she didn’t say.
I’d rather not recall much of it, but there was an instance when she and Liz had gotten into an infinitesimally near-murderous sisterly quarrel because of her “intentional miscommunication.”
Tension filled the air. And I was afraid it was probably due to my presence in the room. It was understandable that I was deemed untrustworthy after the Noctus Cochlear incident—sure enough, no clan master had ever been as unpopular as I was.
Just as Marrietta was about to speak, a clear and frigid voice interjected suddenly.
“Isn’t that an entertaining speech, Sitri Smart?”
Instantly, Sitri narrowed her eyes before returning to her previous serene smile.
She turned towards the direction of the voice and greeted, “Well, well... What a coincidence.”
Entering the room was a statuesque woman, her fine features embodying the epitome of beauty in this world. Her sleek visage was adorned with jewellike eyes reminiscent of amethysts; her cascading golden tresses shimmered glamorously like silk threads in the sunlight. She seemed almost unreal in her mesmerizing beauty.
What’s more, by her side was a silver-haired woman who was no less enchanting.
Their beauty was alienesque. In fact, they were not human: they were known as “Noble Spirits,” a name that signified their noble lineage. They surpassed humans in longevity and possessed a striking beauty far exceeding that of humans. And because of that, they looked down upon humans.
Among Sapiens, Noble Spirits were particularly rare, and consequently, they seldom descended upon human settlements, making them an unaccustomed sight even in the capital. And thus, the exclusively Noble Spirit party Starlight, led by such a Noble Spirit woman, Lapis Fulgor, was a remarkably rare occurrence even throughout the entire world—a phenomenon of its own.
On the other hand, their unconscious contempt towards humans made them a problematic party, second only to Grieving Souls.
“Lapis, Kris...what a surprise to have you both pay the lounge a visit,” I said in a friendly tone.
At my words, Kris Argent, the silver-haired girl standing next to Lapis, glared at me with a steely glint in her eyes.
“Human weakling. How many times do I have to tell you to stop speaking casually to Lapis for you to comprehend?”
Kris’s voice was elegant, but her word choice was slightly graceless.
Reprimanding Kris, Lapis said, “Kris, enough. Imbecile as he is, he is undoubtedly the clan master. This is a human settlement, and we shall adhere to human customs here... And your honorific language is slipping.”
“Human weakling. We shall yield merely inasmuch as Lapis graciously indulges. I will have you stay put. Sir.”
Furrowing her eyebrows, Kris turned away in a huff.
She was an interesting girl, as always. But as much of a kid she was, she was a first-rate Magus. As she was a Noble Spirit, her aptitude for the Magus class was said to be hundreds, if not thousands, of times greater than that of humans. Perhaps it was no wonder her self-esteem was inflated.
“To think that such a feeble human is in fact that Lucia’s older brother is truly unbelievable.”
While the Noble Spirits generally looked down upon humans, there was a single exception: Magi. All in all, for master Magi, aptitude in magic was apparently a criterion that surpassed racial boundaries. In fact, the more handicapped and disadvantaged the race, the more respect they held for their Magi. Indeed, it’d been my younger stepsister, Lucia, an exceptional Magus, who’d prompted Starlight to join First Steps in the first place.
Seemingly agreeing with Kris’s words, Lapis showed a somewhat bitter smile.
“To possess such power in a human vessel... If only she were a Noble Spirit! She could have reached the pinnacle of magical arts.”
“It is not too late yet. You shall hand over Ms. Lucia already! She is such a waste for a human weakling who does not even know the first thing about magic! Sir!”
“Like I’ve said many times: you’re free to recruit as you wish; I’m not going to stop you from doing so. But it’ll be all up to Lucia to accept or not. I’m not going to dictate what she chooses. In fact, as her brother, I can’t force her to make either decision even if I wanted to.”
When we’d established the clan, it’d been Sitri who’d convinced Starlight to join. Sitri had offered the right to scout Lucia, who’d already been established as an exceptional Magus back then, as a bargaining chip. But to be honest, it hadn’t really been about the right to scout or anything: our party operated with an open-door policy. And since then, the absolutely inconceivable for Noble Spirits had come about—Starlight had come under the umbrella of our clan, a clan created by humans. Three years later, they still remained members of the clan. Their fixation on Lucia spoke volumes.
With pouting lips, Kris fell into silence. Lapis, placing a hand on Kris’s head, glared contemptuously at Sitri.
“So...a secret training recipe?” said Lapis. “Anyone can become a Magus on par with Lucia, you say? Nonsense...! Such training does not exist even among Noble Spirits.”
“Say as you may, but the truth remains that Lucia achieved her moniker through the power of this Krai-devised training. Well, I suppose it’s understandable that this is hard to believe for you Noble Spirits, who were born as an overwhelmingly privileged race, and yet have still fallen short against Lucia.”
“Tch... Pathetic. A worthless provocation, Ignoble,” retorted Kris, her face bright red with anger at the words of the opponent she despised.
Lapis also seemed displeased.
It was genuinely terrifying when such beauties got truly angry.
Nonetheless, Sitri remained unfazed as she surveyed the surroundings.
“So, would anyone like to be the first to undertake the training and show the skeptical Lapis and Kris here their results?”
So she’s really confident in this “training” of hers, huh... We’ve only come here today to ask for help with recharging the Relics though—how did we come to such a conversation?
After a brief silence, Marietta from Obsidian Cross was the first to raise her hand.
“All right. I guess...I’ll do it. Everyone else seems to be scared.”
“Are you sure, Mari?”
“Yeah. I’ve come to realize that intensive training is due after that recent quest.”
As expected from a Cross. Despite her probably knowing Sitri well, her desire for improvement had convinced her otherwise.
Satisfied, Sitri nodded at Marietta, who’d stepped forward.
“Well then, we shall begin. Though I must say, the substance of the training itself isn’t that challenging.”
Amid skeptical gazes, Sitri stole a quick glance at a silver pocket watch she’d withdrawn from her pocket to check the time, and she stuck up her index finger in a decisive pose.
Cheerfully, she said, “To begin with, we’ll be charging mana into Relics. Conveniently enough, Krai happens to have plenty of depleted Relics.”
“Yes?”
Marietta’s eyes widened in puzzlement.
As Sitri had directed, I handed over a depleted Safety Ring.
With a quizzical look on her face, Marietta began to charge mana. Time passed in silence, and Marietta’s expression shifted from puzzled to grim.
“Hold on?!” she said after a long pause. “What is this Relic? It’s not charging up at all!”
“Just keep charging.”
“...”
Blood drained from Marietta’s otherwise pale skin; on her forehead, beads of cold sweat formed. Despite her being a rather high-level Magus even within Steps, it seemed recharging a Safety Ring was still quite a burden for her.
Speaking of which, the feeling of exhausting your mana, according to Lucia, seemed to be extremely similar to that of being so drunk that you couldn’t stand upright. Nevertheless, Marietta continued to charge as she propped herself up with one hand on the table.
A few minutes passed, and the Relic was successfully recharged. At that point, Marietta’s lips had turned blue, and her fingertips trembled. She pressed her hand against her forehead and frowned, probably suffering from a headache.
Sitri lifted the Safety Ring on the table and nodded with apparent satisfaction.
As she handed it back to me, she said, “Now, we’re done with the first charge. Next up—again, we’re charging the next Relic.”
“Wait?! What?!”
“Hold on. Mari is already at her limit!”
“Don’t worry; I’ll stop her when she reaches her limit. This won’t kill—that’s been proved.”
Despite objections from Sven’s party mates, Sitri paid them no attention and handed Marietta the next Relic.
With trembling hands, Marietta accepted the Relic and resumed charging.
Soon, her breath became erratic—a clear symptom of mana depletion. If she continued charging like this, her mana would surely be completely exhausted soon enough.
With everyone anxiously watching, Sitri began to explain to them.
“Let me offer a brief explanation here,” she said. “The strength of a Magus is proportional to their overall mana capacity. The prevailing notion that women are better suited to become Magi is backed by the tendency for their overall mana capacity to grow more easily. Meanwhile, the ceilings on our mana reservoirs typically grow throughout our childhood and stabilize around our midteens. And this is why Noble Spirits excel as Magi: it is believed that they not only—of course—possess an aptitude for magic but also age differently from humans, giving them an extended period of mana growth.”
Finally unable to remain standing, Marietta knelt down on the spot. Her hand, crash-landed on the table, fell open spontaneously, and the Safety Ring spilled out of her grasp. The charging was yet incomplete, but it seemed her mana had run out.
Sitri picked up the Safety Ring and continued her lecture.
“And so, although the growth of our mana capacity comes to a complete halt around our midteens, there exists a known exception under a specific circumstance. Under this condition, our capacity can expand for approximately another five to ten percent after the growth has stopped. This is a phenomenon that we usually refer to by names such as ‘über recovery.’ Do any one of you know the circumstance that can bring on such an increase?”
One of the Magi in the room dreadfully answered the question, “Mana...depletion...?”
“Correct! When our mana is depleted and then recovered, the upper limit rises significantly!”
It was at this moment everyone knew: this was not going to end well. Magi, who’d been eagerly interested in Sitri’s honeyed words just a while ago, turned pale; even Lapis put up a stern face—surely they understood the significance behind what Sitri had just said.
An easy method? Efficient? Absolutely not.
Admittedly, the phenomenon of mana über recovery was somewhat well-known, but no one willingly practiced it—the burden on the Magus was simply too great. The expansion of mana capacity occurred because the body was bracing itself for death and trying to adapt to the situation with all its might.
“I’ve heard that the mana capacity expands during recovery, madam. But even we would require a considerable amount of time—”
“And here’s where my specialty mana restoration potion makes its debut.”
In response to Kris’s question, Sitri rather proudly pulled a potion out from her pocket. It was a murkily dark potion as if black ink had dissolved in it.
I thought mana restoration potions were supposed to be...of a more vibrant color?
Gripping the dropper, Sitri said confidently, “This is the special concoction formulated for Lucia. With Marietta, I suspect even only a few drops would suffice for recovery.”
“Hold on a sec—”
But Sven’s attempt to intervene came a moment too late.
Sitri injected the dropper holding her specialty mana restoration potion into the mouth of Marietta, who had been helplessly unconscious from mana depletion. Then, Marietta’s slender body, which had been motionless like a stranded fish up till then, jolted upwards sharply.
Witnessing her hardly humanlike motion, the surrounding clan members let out shrieks and swiftly retreated backwards.
Sitri, on the other hand, leaned in upon the poor Magus who was lying on the floor right there without as much as a twitch.
“Impressive, Marietta. I thought you’d at least vomit, despite your firm resolve,” muttered Sitri in front of the stunned crowd.
With that, she peeled back Marietta’s eyelids and examined her pupils. Then, after giving Marietta’s cheek a light tap and tipping her head up, Sitri checked her pocket watch and nodded broadly.
“In just three minutes and twenty seconds, her mana has increased by about ten percent. This is the power of the secret Magus training recipe devised by Krai, he who had nurtured Lucia. Grind this process continuously, and you’ll witness a dramatic growth in your power. With an increased mana capacity, you’ll have greater endurance in combat and more mana to spare for learning new spells. The growth of a Magus—the centerpiece of any party—significantly enhances the party’s overall survival rate. What an efficient training method this is! This is marvelous!”
What a ruthless and diabolic training method. Obviously, I had no recollection of devising anything like that. Lapis frowned and checked up on Marietta.
And she said, “But Marietta hasn’t regained consciousness—”
“It’s all right; she’ll get used to it. Also, I’ll be relaying you the Relics and supplying you the potions, so you all can focus solely on charging mana. Don’t worry about me being not quick enough to service everyone; I’ll summon up some golems to cover anyone I can’t reach if necessary. And rest assured—there will be no use trying to escape. You just have to get used to it.”
“Completely bonkers... This can’t be true, calling that training,” said one of the clan members, wide-eyed, looking at Sitri as if she were a demon.
The reason über recovery of mana hadn’t been incorporated into normal training routines so far was partly due to the prohibitive cost of mana restoration potions, but probably more likely because that mana depletion was “excruciatingly painful.” What’s more, in Sitri’s training, one would have to repeatedly consume mana restoration potions that were even more painful to drink. Any experienced Magi should be able to tell how torturous this would be.
Sitri remained unfazed. She blinked and said, as if stating the obvious, “But Lucia really did grow stronger with this training. She went through mana depletion and recovered using my potions repeatedly. Considering the efficiency, I think these slight discomforts are really just negligible risks... It’s not like you expect to outgrow Noble Spirits in strength without any sacrifices or effort...right?”
She gaslighted the crowd with her sound argument. Perplexed by her statement, everyone, including Lapis, fell silent under Sitri’s enigmatic expression.
To succeed, one must put forth worthy efforts. Having witnessed the growth of Grieving Souls, I was well aware of that.
“As your mana pool expands, completely depleting it becomes harder and harder. Spell-casting requires intense focus, so it takes a solid will to deplete your mana with just that. When charging Relics, you can, however, easily exhaust your mana without all that fuss. Luckily, there’s no shortage of Relics to charge. Right, Krai?”
“There are still...a few hu—um, at least dozens of them.”
The majority of my collection decorating my private room was currently unusable.
Sven stared at me with an appalled look.
“Dozens...?! Seriously, Krai?”
“Thanks to Krai’s thoughtfulness, all our Magi here can receive training.”
I see... So this is the “idea” Sitri was talking about earlier.
Given that Sitri could brew the expensive mana restoration potions herself, this was indeed a mutually beneficial deal, though it felt like a half scam. The task was just too demanding, and I doubted if anyone would be that easily gaslighted.
All the Magi who were listening to the conversation exchanged glances with each other silently.
Marietta, meanwhile, remained unconscious.
Lapis, with her arms crossed and face twisted in a troubled expression, asked, “Ignoble, did Lucia, Krai’s younger sister, really undergo that training?”
“Of course. I prepared the potions myself. What’s more, she has absolutely never shown one sign of struggle during her mana enhancement training.”
Yeah, uh-huh. I didn’t even realize.
It was true that she’d nag me every time I’d gained a Relic that required charging, but my sister, capable as she was, had never once refused to charge them.
Taking a breath, Sitri glanced around the room, then raised her index finger to her lips.
She said, “It’s not about talent or whatnot; it’s not limited to Lucia. The reason my older brother—Ansem—Krai, and the other Grievers have a slightly higher level than everyone here is because of the trials we’ve gone through—we’ve shed a little more sweat, a little more blood, and a little more tears than all of you. Don’t tell me you are gonna whine about a trial that hunters far younger than you have surmounted.”
...Eloquent as ever. Well, not that I’ve shed a single drop of blood, sweat, nor tear though...
Having heard her speech, Lapis remained silent for a while before finally speaking with profound sentiment, “Hmmmmm? And I thought humans would require an extraordinary talent to just come close to the power of a Noble Spirit. But seems like Lucia was the result of overly harsh training. Impressive! Now I want her even more, Krai Andrey.”
Of course...she’s my proud younger sister. But maybe I should reduce the number of Relics in my arsenal...?
Lucia’s talent for magic had sprouted from the beginning. Perhaps, among us, the six founding members of Grieving Souls, she’d been the most gifted one. And that was why I’d never really thought about it, but after I saw this sorry situation in front of me, maybe Lucia had also been struggling quite a bit without my realizing.
When we’d first arrived in the capital, I had only one Relic—an inconsequential one that only ever so slightly increased my stamina when equipped. It’d required only a small amount of mana to charge. Charging my Relics had always been Lucia’s responsibility, from the beginning until now. But as my collection kept steadily growing, Lucia had not once made a displeased face—or any face, for that matter.
When I recalled Lucia’s blunt voice, a cold sweat suddenly broke out on my forehead.
She’d been acting rather distant lately. I thought maybe she’s just been going through a belated teenage rebellious phase, but could this be the reason? I should try to get her in a good mood when she comes back.
“But, Sitri Smart,” interjected Lapis abruptly as I was mulling over such thoughts, “you mentioned earlier about ‘outgrowing Noble Spirits in strength,’ right?”
“Yes? I did. What about it?”
Staring at Sitri, who’d put up a curious look, Lapis’s pale purple eyes lit up in a flash.
“That’s. Not. True! Absolutely not true! Aye, maybe Lucia Rogier is undeniably an outstanding Magus, perhaps the one who wields the most diverse array of magic that I know—she is truly deserving of her aliases—but no matter how much I approve of her, I have never once considered her superior to us! Never!”
It was an outpour of fiery emotions; her voice exuded overwhelming confidence and a clear condescension towards humans.
Sitri glanced at me and let out a small sigh in annoyance.
“Ugh. Confidence is all well and good, but there’s nothing more unsightly than baseless arrogance—no, I don’t mean to scorn Starlight. But really, your Kris is certified only for a level even lower than Lucia’s Level 6. Besides...you’re resting on your laurels being born into a superior race. I might be biased, but could that be the reason Lucia declined Starlight’s invitation?”
“!!!”
Lapis bit her vibrant lips firmly in frustration upon hearing her extremely disrespectful superficial words, but nothing came out of her lips.
Such was an insult that would’ve warranted retaliation in the form of offensive magic spells from a typical Noble Spirit.
But Lapis shouted loudly in reply, “Kris. We won’t stand idly by enduring such insults!”
“Yes! Madam!”
Kris’s face was no less reddened with shame than Lapis’s.
I was concerned that their murderous gaze, for some reason, seemed directed at me instead of Sitri, but I guessed I couldn’t say much about it since I was like Sitri’s supervisor or something.
“I’m sorry that Sitri made some inappropriate remarks; allow me to apologize. I’ll even perform a kowtow if you so desire.”
“No need! Sir! You, human weakling, kowtow way too often. Sir! Think twice before you open your damn mouth! Sir!”
That’s my one and only forte though—speaking of which, that reminds me of the time I kowtowed at Kris so hard that I cried...
Ignoring the troubled me, Lapis grew furious as she slammed the table forcefully.
“I don’t need your apologies, Thousand Tricks! Let’s prove it. Only at the sight of you human fools gaping in astonishment with your stupid faces would our wounded pride be soothed. We’re ‘resting on our laurels’? After all, there’s nothing humans can do that we, Noble Spirits, cannot accomplish! Kris!”
Puffing up her slender chest, characteristic of Noble Spirits, Kris spat at me and demanded, “Hey, give me the Relics already! Sir! And bring me everything you have! Sir! With my mana capacity over dozens of times larger than any human, there’s no way I shall be outmatched, even by Lucia. Sir!”
“Oh, sure. If that’s what you want...” said Sitri in a worried tone as she lowered her gaze.
Not that it matters, but Noble Spirits surely don’t handle provocations well, do they?
“Uh, please refrain from pushing yourselves too hard. While Lucia can charge them all without any problem, no other human being would likely be able to achieve such a feat. This would be quite challenging even for Noble Spirits, I believe.”
“You’re such a pest! I said I can do it, so mark my words. Madam! I will prove to you that I’m not like those spineless human Magi who falter just at your words. Madam! Now shut up and bring me the Relics. Madam!”
Kris’s ears had long been deaf to Sitri’s advice. Sitri was clever, and she’d most certainly worded it that way intentionally.
With her gaze lowered, Sitri put up a faint smile.
“If you say so... Lapis, Kris, please go ahead and fully unleash the power of Noble Spirits.”
Stone golems controlled by Sitri placed the Relics one by one in front of Kris as she rolled up her sleeves.
At the steadily accumulating pile of Relics and the determined Noble Spirit girl with twitching eyebrows, Sitri spoke in a soft voice, “This...is the ‘Thousand Trials.’”
***
In the midst of the fading day, Eva ran into the sunset-hued lounge. Greeted by the devastation in the room, she pressed her hand to her forehead and looked at me as I sat idly at the table.
“What...happened?” she asked.
“So there was this clash between hunters’ prides, and—”
“Pretend I didn’t ask.”
Oh. Okay.
The scene in the spacious lounge was unbearable to behold: Some people were convulsing and twitching, their upper bodies slumped on tables, while others sprawled motionless on the ground. Still, some remained conscious but were only murmuring incomprehensible noises to themselves. Some had even vomited at first, but Sitri’s golems had already cleaned up the vomit so that there was nothing left—fortunately, people couldn’t vomit more than what was already in their stomachs. Fellow hunters clutched fallen members, shaking them by their shoulders as if they were clutching the fresh corpses of their comrades en route exploring a treasure vault, in utter disbelief.
Though I watched in silence, my heart ached terribly. Ironically, I felt like I was about to barf.
Kris, still conscious at one of the tables, lifted her head. The color had drained from her face, and her sweat-matted bangs clung to her forehead—but her beauty remained, truly befitting a proud Noble Spirit I should say.
With disoriented eyes, she looked up at the table and groaned, “Argh, argh... How many...left? Sir.”
“The ones with the highest capacity are done. There are only 152 left!”
“Hundred?! You human weakling. Don’t you dare forget what you said initially, sir...”
Actually, I think she did pretty well.
She did have to replenish her mana a few times, but Kris did manage to recharge all the Safety Rings—a feat that spoke volumes about her superior mana capacity.
By the way, the other Magi all collapsed after throwing themselves into the “charging battle” halfway. They, not wanting to lose, had been inspired by Kris, who’d been charging mana all while wheezing heavily. When I’d said that this was a “clash between hunters’ prides,” I’d really meant it.
Observing Kris with her long legs crossed, Lapis furrowed her brows.
“I see, this is indeed overly harsh,” she said. “But Kris, you’ll not give up. I must say this has piqued my interest. This could indeed prove useful to us as well. Kris, you’re not going to whine about this, are you?”
“Nooo...of course not. Madam Lapis! Ugh...human liar! Now bring...the remaining...Relics. Sir!”
What a remarkable determination. Perhaps she was already past the point of no return.
I couldn’t help but offer a helping hand; I had no particular interest in pushing a girl to the verge of crying just to charge my Relics.
“No, don’t worry. I already have the absolutely necessary Relics charged. The rest isn’t that important. You don’t have to push yourself to your limit.”
“What?! Bullshit! Sir! I-I’m...still...good! Sir! Now, hurry up...and bring them on. Sir!”
Eva, apparently realizing the situation, was dumbfounded. Sitri, on the other hand, widened her eyes.
Well, I guess this is indeed training for her. Maybe I’ll let her go on until she’s satisfied.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Bring it on.”
The golem cleared away the charged Relics and brought in new ones.
The remaining Relics were of the lowest priority—the weapon Relics. Unlike the accessory Relics that appeared to be mere ornaments, these weapon Relics had a distinct radiance that distinguished them from ordinary weapons: a sword with a transparent blade, a katana with a hamon flickering like flames, a jet-black lance that absorbed all light, a circular shield that shone like gemstones, etc.
At the brilliance of the weapon Relics, the members caring for their fallen comrades gasped in awe.
Weapon and armor Relics held far greater value than the others. In the hands of seasoned warriors, they could unleash unparalleled power, but for someone like me, with skills in all martial arts below that of an amateur, they were useless, merely decorative collection items. Perhaps only I and Matthis, who ran a Relic store, would possess such a massive collection of Relics.
“H-Human weakling, are you serious...?” asked Kris, astonished.
What do you mean by “Are you serious”? You were the one who said you’d charge it.
These weapon and armor Relics tended to have weaker capabilities in retaining mana compared to other Relics. This was one of the reasons why treasure hunters limited their Relic collection to what they could charge themselves. Sadly, even with all the effort Kris would put into charging them, these Relics would probably only last not even a few days, and that was why I’d kept them until the very end.
Kris groaned and picked up a short dagger, about twenty centimeters in length, with embedded gems.
So she’s really going to do it.
Perhaps she was doing this out of pride? Perhaps stubbornness? Or perhaps she was willing to go that far to increase her mana capacity?
And that was when I came up with a great idea. While my hobby was collecting Relics, I also loved using them—not just keeping them in storage. Though lately, I hadn’t been able to use my Relics since Lucia had been absent.
“You know what? What if I use the Relics immediately after Kris charges them—”
Kris, about to infuse mana into the dagger, froze in a shocked expression. Meanwhile, Sitri’s eyes gleamed.
“Oh, it’s the endurance training that Lucia often griped about. Indeed, this might be doable for someone as formidable as Kris, unlike Lucia,” said Sitri.
...Maybe I owe Lucia an apology?
Kris, having regained her composure, shouted in a trembling voice, “Y-Y-You human weeaaaakling!”
“All right, all right, let’s call it quits here. It is one thing to train, but we, the staff, will be the ones cleaning the lounge, you know?! I’m sure you understand, Krai, right?” interjected Eva as she clapped her hands as if changing the topic.
The downed Magi leaned on their comrades’ shoulders and staggered back up.
Seemed like Sitri was right: there were no serious injuries.
“All right. I’ll take care of the rest here, so Krai, why don’t you go somewhere else with your Relics? Yes, training is over! If you want more, do it another day—in a different place! This is not a training ground to begin with—this is a place to relax, okay? Chill out! There are a few outsiders in the lounge too! What will you do if they start spreading weird rumors about us because of this?”
That was a valid point.
With a slap on the back from Eva, I was ushered out of the lounge along with Sitri.
Peeking in from just outside the door, I realized there probably wouldn’t be any problem. Eva, who single-handedly managed the clan, seemed to have Lapis, Kris, and the hunters wrapped around her little finger—as well as me, of course.
“How did I do, Krai? I suppose you’ve managed to get most of your Relics charged. I hope I’ve been of help,” said Sitri, grinning without a hint of remorse.
I was too fed up to think, so I just gave Sitri a pat on her shoulder as she huddled closer to me.
***
The Rodin family was a long-standing prestigious lineage of treasure hunters in Zebrudia, the sacred land of hunters. Its origins traced back to Solis Rodin, he who’d challenged and vanquished the Celestial God who’d appeared in the Level 10 treasure vault, Shrine of the Celestial God, then located near the current capital, after the Celestial God had reduced the surrounding thousands of miles to ashes.
In recognition of this feat, which had eluded the entirety of Zebrudia’s forces, the then emperor had asked Solis about the prospect of offering him a nobility title. But Solis had declined the offer, claiming himself to be just a mere hunter. The emperor, lauding his modest demeanor as the role model of hunters, had bestowed upon Rodin the title of “Hero.” Since then, only the Rodin family had been allowed to claim the title of “Hero” within the empire.
Ark Rodin was a descendant of this esteemed family and had received education from a young age to become a first-rate hunter. Solis Rodin had been an almighty hunter with an all-encompassing range of skills. His bloodline, the Rodin family, had been highly skilled in every field for generations, and Ark was no exception. Easily conquering high-level treasure vaults that would pose a challenge to ordinary hunters, Ark had earned himself a moniker. While still a young hunter, he was now considered a candidate for the strongest hunter in the empire, and before he knew it, Ark had come to be known by the same title his ancestor had been granted—“Hero.”
The name “Rodin” held special significance in the capital city. From the moment Ark had become a hunter, his name had attracted attention.
This wasn’t the first time he’d received an invitation from a noble. While the Rodin family adhered to the precept of keeping their distance from the authorities, at the same time, it wasn’t entirely feasible to completely disconnect from them if one were to navigate the world of hunters smoothly.
Ark and his party, Ark Brave, celebrated for their achievements in conquering Prism Garden, arrived at a party in the territories of Marquess Sandrine, a long distance away from the capital. After a bustling banquet attended by many nobles, Ark found himself summoned to the office, where only one other man was present.
“So this is the renowned ‘Firmamental Blossom’? Impressive...”
A middle-aged man clothed in a composed deep-red coat emitted a sigh of admiration as he gazed at a peculiar bouquet with transparent petals arranged in a vase.
The party host who’d invited Ark and his party to this banquet was none other than Nahum Sandrine, head of the Sandrine family. He was a senior noble granted vast territories in the western region of the Zebrudia Empire and was known as the authoritative leader of a political faction despite being just a marquess. Due to a past connection when Ark had received a request to investigate a treasure vault in his territory, Sandrine was a house that Ark was particularly fond of.
These flowers were a product of the treasure vault. They appeared entirely translucent like glasswork but had the texture of ordinary flowers. Their delicate details were so beautiful that no craftsman could replicate them.
“It’s a creation made of mana material, not even a Relic. It likely won’t last long in the outside world,” said Ark.
This was a flower that naturally grew rampantly in the deepest part of Prism Garden. Despite its mystical appearance, the flower held no special powers and was of little interest to high-level hunters like Ark. He’d picked a few on the way back this time as a memento of reaching the furthest depths of a highly challenging treasure vault, not for any particular reason. However, one thing was certain—Prism Garden could never be conquered by just ordinary hunters. The Firmamental Blossom, capable of maintaining its form for only a brief moment before its mana material dissipated and it dissolved into the air, served as a symbol for nobles to demonstrate their connections to excellent treasure hunters.
Recalling a time when flowers from Prism Garden were brought back by Grieving Souls and lavishly displayed in the clan house’s lounge, Ark couldn’t help but smile inwardly.
The marquess, on the other hand, simply touched his chin and narrowed his eyes upon hearing Ark’s words.
“Evanescent, isn’t it? But that was precisely its source of beauty. Oh, a garden where such flowers bloom extravagantly... I’d love to see it once with my own eyes before I pass,” mused the marquess.
That’d be rather difficult, thought Ark without saying out loud.
Prism Garden was an inhospitable place for anyone other than hunters: its thick fog of pollen would corrode the bodies of intruders, while phantoms that had adapted to the environment lurked among the countless rampantly blooming flowers, eagerly seeking to harvest the souls of trespassers with an eagle eye. Traversing the vault would be quite impossible for him even with an escort of a few hundred knights from a knights’ order.
The vault was simply a different world.
“What if—let’s just say what if—Ark, you, the strongest and most celebrated person in the capital, were to escort me—”
“Your Excellency, that place is not meant for someone of your noble standing to venture into. While I can certainly defeat the phantoms, it’s not an environment that the living flesh can accommodate. We had our fair share of struggles there this time as well.”
Upon hearing Ark’s immediate response, Marquess Sandrine let out a chagrined groan, but he didn’t say anything more.
Occasionally, thoughtless nobles in Zebrudia would bring their private army and venture into treasure vaults, only to encounter tragedy.
Exploring with a burden in tow was much more challenging than just the deal itself, and it was even more so when the burden was a person to be convoyed. For hunters, it might be a great opportunity to establish connections with nobles, but more often than not, the convoyed individual would end up dead.
And so, in an attempt to change the subject entirely, Sandrine shook his head vigorously. He put on a deep and somewhat affable smile, but the glint in the depths of his eyes alone was unbelievably sharp.
“Now, Ark, I wonder, have you given some thought to our previous discussion?”
Ark remained silent.
Marquess Sandrine had approached Ark multiple times to scout him as his reserved hunter.
Hunters were considered the most powerful assets a noble could possess in Zebrudia. No matter how many high-level treasure vaults existed in their territories, they’d be meaningless to the nobles without hunters capable of retrieving the treasures from within. And so nobles were eager to acquire exceptional hunters, and Ark and his companions were particularly in the spotlight.
Being a reserved hunter meant prioritizing the noble’s requests in exchange for certain rewards. While it reduced their freedom, it was by no means a bad deal for hunters. Such an arrangement symbolized status and could come with various material benefits; it could even allow one to acquire outstanding new partners through connections and obtain access to otherwise restricted treasure vaults. Above all, this appointment served as the closest thing a hunter can receive as an ultimate testament to their trustworthiness, a quality highly valued by the Explorers’ Association. It was akin to receiving the official seal of approval from the ruling class of Zebrudia, a world power. Just becoming a reserved hunter could be a cause for elevating one’s level.
But Ark shook his head with a gentle smile.
“It’s an honor, but my apologies, sir.”
“Hmmmm, the Rodins don’t serve nobles, huh? The first Rodin has surely left behind quite a bothersome family precept.”
“We still have things we must do. Please kindly pardon us.”
Solis had been a figure befitting the name of a hero, but it’d seemed that he’d encountered quite a few difficult disputes with people in power. And as a result, Solis had established a family precept, a precept that had no doubt played a role in the Rodins’ prosperity.
However, that wasn’t the sole reason Ark didn’t serve nobles—he hadn’t yet achieved what he sought to achieve as a hunter.
Like Marquess Sandrine, a not-at-all-insignificant portion of the nobles claimed that Ark was the strongest in the capital. While some may have been biased, their claim wasn’t necessarily mistaken. Even hunters grew weak as they aged, and even the strongest hunter couldn’t remain in their prime forever. Ark, still in his midtwenties, had great potential for his future.
However, opinions on who’d be the next strongest in the capital split hunters into two camps.
With a disgruntled expression, Lord Sandrine said, “The Thousand Tricks, huh?”—a name that had spread rapidly in recent years.
Again, Ark remained silent.
“I’ve heard the name often,” continued the marquess. “His name carries both fame and infamy. Certainly have I not imagined that the day would come when another hunter would threaten the position of the Rodins...”
It was a bolt from the blue.
He’d had no rival. Of course, considering strength alone, there were a few individuals who outmatched Ark. Though, they were all people who’d trodden the path of hunting for a much longer period—they were people whom Ark was destined to surpass in the near future. Ark used to only look up to those above him, and it’d been enough. Who could’ve imagined that someone of the same generation would emerge as a rival to Ark Rodin, he who possessed the strongest lineage and exerted the greatest effort in the best environment?
Lord Sandrine’s words, claiming that Ark Rodin’s position was threatened, were mistaken. The word “threaten” didn’t exist in Rodin’s dictionary. If a talent capable of rivaling him appeared, he’d only confront them head-on fair and square. In fact, this was what he desired: he’d rather not continue going on on his own.
There, Ark recalled the face of that young man and spoke with a sour expression, “But, Your Excellency, he—the Thousand Tricks—isn’t actually motivated at all...”
“Mmwuh...?!”
Ark’s unusually listless voice caught Marquess Sandrine speechless.
The Thousand Tricks’s achievements were undeniable. However, at the same time, the man remained an enigma to Ark. Krai Andrey was a mysterious man, perpetually at ease with a relaxed demeanor. Not to mention his modus operandi, his daily activities weren’t even apparent. Lately, with him not even venturing into the treasure vaults with his party, there was no longer even a way to compete with him—he was beyond elusive.
Noticing Ark’s deferential demeanor, the marquess decided to change the topic and said, “Well, anyways. But, Ark, remember this: we, the nobility of the empire, are on your side. We owe the House Rodin a debt of gratitude no matter how your family feels about it.”
“Thank you. I’m honored.”
“Oh, by the way, a party guest, Lord Gladis, mentioned that they would like to talk to you. It’d be great if you could pay them a visit before returning to the capital. They mentioned something about you teaching them the sword? My goodness, you Rodin folks are nothing less than valiant and admirable.”
Ark chuckled and nodded in response as Marquess Sandrine jokingly shrugged his shoulders.
No Comments Yet
Post a new comment
Register or Login