We finally returned to the barracks nearly half a day after setting off. Normally, what should have taken about three to four hours ended up taking half a day, and there’s no guessing why—it was all my doing.
Trian, mindful that I had collapsed like a dead man upon arriving at the barracks last time, made sure to guide us along a path that provided plenty of rest spots, opting for what was as flat and easy as possible.
Having roamed these areas so extensively, Trian had reached a level where he could count the number of ancient trees and acacia trees that dotted the landscape.
Every so often along the way, he would pluck some fruit for us or fetch drinking water.
Though it took longer, this meant that our journey back was quite smooth. And unlike last time, I didn’t collapse as soon as we got back to the barracks.
“Ugh… Really…”
Still, avoiding collapse doesn’t mean this wasn’t grueling and difficult.
“Ah, you’ve returned! We were starting to think about sending out a search party because you hadn’t returned even as the sun started setting.”
Between the barracks, nearly completed by now, Belua the Dwarf with the black hammer appeared. In her hand, she carried a small hammer and some nails.
“…Are you doing the work yourself?”
I found it strange that our squad leader was handling tools herself, and I questioned it.
“Well, it just feels wrong sitting around and giving orders all day—it drives me nuts! And since I can’t drink, all I can do to relieve stress is use this hammer!”
…Dwarves really have unique ways of dealing with stress.
The more I interact with her, the more Belua seems to become strange in unexpected ways.
“Ah, they’re Dwarves. They’re always cute, aren’t they?”
As Belua and I were chatting, a sudden, arrogant voice came from my right hand, completely out of nowhere.
“…”
I frowned as I looked at my right hand, which had unexpectedly started talking. Faint warmth, similar to the electricity that Daljin had emitted when we last met, was faintly flowing beneath the skin.
“…Why are you talking?”
I didn’t even take out the staff. Let alone take it out, I never concentrated on the foreign sensation at the tips of my fingers. I never even mouthed the activation word “manifest.”
So why was this thing speaking to me right from under the skin of my hand?
“You and I are connected, aren’t we? Why are you asking such an obvious question…?”
“No, no. That’s not right. What’s obvious about this? Are you crazy?”
The staff allows us to connect our minds so we can communicate.
“Why are you talking without the staff even being out?”
I couldn’t help but laughless at the absurdity of the situation.
When exactly was this guy stealthily observing me and spying on the people around me?
“…Well, you could at least humor me a bit. It’s been a while since I’ve seen cute Dwarves, and now I’ve got a bit of extra energy. You’re being too harsh.”
“That’s not the point. When did you connect our minds?”
“Since the beginning, the link has been constant.”
“…Are you sane?”
“Good grief, it’s been so long since I’ve been able to take a look outside!”
“And this entire time, you’ve been watching me like a perv, and yet you still act so confidently?”
This crazy stag boy must have been watching me 24/7 if I hadn’t pointed it out.
How many times did I go to the bathroom? Who did I meet and what did I say? What foods do I like or dislike? Knowing that this mad stag might have been watching me every minute sent shivers down my spine.
“voyeur? I don’t even know what that means.”
The pitiful medieval era.
When are mental hospitals going to come along? If anything, that way this lunatic might realize his own insanity.
“No, if you wish to look outside, at least give me a heads up first! This is giving me the chills.”
“Alright. I have wanted to see the outside for a long time, so I’ll activate the connection through my staff.”
By now, bringing it up is already too late.
“Shin, cut off his antlers…”
“AAAAH! Sir! Sir! Even if you’re the esteemed Spirit of Lightning, some minimal respect is required!”
Just as I was about to curse the lightning sparking from my right hand, Lir clamped her hand over my mouth.
It’s not necessary for the Elvish reflexes to shine in such pointless situations, really.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve gone outside. Try to understand how I feel.”
“…”
Since my mouth was covered, I cursed silently with my eyes at the lightning spurting from my right hand.
“If you really don’t want to, there’s nothing I can do, but don’t come crying to me later when something dangerous happens. I don’t lend my power to those who don’t make me feel entertained!”
“…”
Is there no downside to the lightning staff’s ability to manipulate elemental powers?
Well, there is.
And it’s a huge one.
This deranged stag itself is the downside.
What kind of glory could the former master of this staff have sought by linking with such an unusual transcendent entity like Daljin?
The greatest accomplishment of the ancient craftsman who made this staff was confining a nutjob transcendent like Daljin inside a rock. And arguably his worst mistake was enabling that same confined transcendent to roam the world with this cursed staff.
“Sir Bin! Sir Bin, please calm down and listen? No matter how much you dislike it, remember that Lord Daljin is the Spirit of Lightning, a Transcendental Being! He is said to be the origin of the storm magic that we use! It’s best not to antagonize him. Understand?”
“Haha, Lir really knows how to talk. Isn’t it only natural that you might need my power one day? It’s hard to see why you’d have a reason not to entertain me.”
Daljin may be confined in a tiny rock, but a transcendent remains a transcendent. No matter how skilled the ancient artisans who forged the artifact, none of them ever imagined using it to force a transcendent to serve like a slave.
Still…
Why should I have to deal with a creature like him as if I’m in some romance simulation game?
“Sir Bin, understand? You won’t say anything rude to Lord Daljin, right?”
I closed my eyes tightly a few times to signal to her that I was fine.
Lir comforted me like she would a child and slowly released her hand from my mouth.
“I’ll crush your antlers into powder…”
Sorry, Lir. That was a lie.
“AAAHHH!”
Lir screamed and reached with both hands to cover my mouth again.
“I have my privacy too. It’s creepy enough when you show up like this, labeling it as perverse…”
I turned my head left and right, trying to voice out between her fingers’ gaps.
“Please, Sir Bin, please!”
Lir begged with an urgent voice.
Of course, her urgent pleas didn’t make me stop speaking.
Words need to be said.
“Ho, so you refuse to bow your head? Haven’t seen someone this stubborn in a while!”
Daljin, seemingly determined to toy with me, began to emit a warm lightning from the fingertips, coalescing into the shape of a deer in the blink of an eye.
“My instincts were right after all!”
Daljin, with a smirk, pushed his face towards mine.
…What a terrible artifact this is.
*
The barracks, weapon storage, and warehouses stretched along a road. Three mages walked slowly, staffs slung on their backs. Above their heads, a crescent moon was already high in the sky. Their cloaks carried a mix of dirt, sweat, and grime from weeks of toil.
“Thankfully nothing out of the ordinary happened today.”
“Damn, I just want to get cleaned up. Haven’t been able to wash my face properly for days.”
“Didn’t they build a bathhouse in the barracks? Why isn’t it in use?”
“They completed the drainage system yesterday, but I think they still haven’t brought in fresh water yet.”
“This is driving me insane. Can’t clean up, can’t wash clothes… hey, want to smell my robe?”
“Stop talking nonsense. My robe smells like rotten cheese, and I don’t want to smell yours.”
The three mages, part of a squad led by Captain Belua, seemed to have a good camaraderie. The mage in the middle, dressed in a blue robe, frowned and muttered curses while pinching his nose against the odors wafting from his companions’ robes.
The mage on the left curiously brought his own robe to his nose to check, and the female mage on the right walked absently, staring distantly at the almost completed barracks.
“Ah, it’s already this late?”
“Hey! The mages are back. Let’s wrap up today’s work.”
The Dwarves hard at work, hammering under the lantern light without noticing the time, finally paused their work when they saw the three mages walking along the road toward their tents.
“Get it done quickly and let’s go back! I want to finish tonight’s check and relax.”
Even as the blue-robed mage walked with a pinched expression back to the tent, he chided the Dwarf soldiers who were still hard at work.
“Hey, wait a moment! We haven’t finished the roof yet!”
“This will take some more time.”
“We’ll go ahead, but we must be back by the end of the headcount!”
Hearing the Dwarf call from the alleyway, the three mages sighed as they were used to this routine and continued walking towards their tents along the path.
Their eyes finally caught sight of the large tents they had called home for some time, bathed in the gentle glow of firelight.
“…Sir Bin! Please, sir, don’t say anything…”
As the three mages hurried back to their tent for some rest, the faint, desperate cries of Lir reached their ears.
“…What’s wrong? Did Sir Bin collapse again?”
“If he did, Captain Belua probably would have carried him back without all this commotion.”
“Is something serious happening?”
The three mages paused for a moment, listening to the unusual noise coming from the forest.
“Hey, you fool…!”
The voice belonged to the young mage named Bin, and it carried a tone of intense anger.
The blue-robed male mage perked his ears upon hearing it, exchanging a worried glance with his companions.
Until now, the only images they had of Bin were as someone lying exhausted in a carriage or offering a polite, tired greeting to his subordinates.
To them, it was quite surprising to hear such a volatile expression of anger from him.
“Hey, hey! Hold on a second…”
Belua’s voice followed, tinged with fluster.
“…Hehehe! Interesting…”
A proud, arrogant laugh followed Belua’s flustered tone.
It was a voice none of them had heard before.
“Hey, let’s go check it out.”
The female mage abruptly withdrew her foot that was already partly inside the tent and turned towards the direction from which the commotion was coming.
The three of them rushed towards the source of the sound, their bodies exhausted from vigilance over the long hours.
When they arrived, even they who had spent a lifetime studying magic were struck by a sight they’d never seen before.
A majestic stag formed of pure lightning stood there. The mages felt as if they had been pierced through by a great bolt of electricity at the sight.
Although no one had explained it to them, they instantly understood who this creature was.
This was the Spirit of Lightning, famous only from ancient texts.
They were not mages of the Storm School. The blue-robed mage wielded earth and fire magic, while the others specialized in water and wind. Still, they immediately recognized the true identity of the lightning stag, Daljin.
The pureness and beauty of the elemental power unconsciously emanating from Daljin made it undeniably clear.
“Th-This is…”
Without hesitation, the trio of mages were captivated by the overwhelming charisma of Daljin’s form. Had they been from the Storm School, they would have gladly bowed down to the Spirit of Lightning. There was an extraordinary, otherworldly wonder radiating from him.
“Yes… The Spirit of Lightning…”
“Unbelievable. I’ve always wanted to meet the Spirit of Wind…”
“This insane stag is going to…!”
In the midst of this magical moment, a voice filled with anger and a flailing arm intruded upon their vision.
A pale, delicate wrist was followed by a streak of white hair that blocked their view.
The savior of the continent, the promising young hero of the dragon-slaying party, the greatest prodigy in history…
The fist of the young mage Bin…
was flying towards Daljin’s face.
“Uh…”
A sharp sound escaped their lips. The brains of the three mages froze simultaneously.
Their brains were overwhelmed, unable to fully comprehend the scene unfolding before their eyes.
Bin was unleashing his fist, filled with anger, towards Daljin the Spirit of Lightning.
In short,
The renowned prodigy of storm magic was punching the Spirit of Lightning!
“Sir Bin! Please… I’m sorry! Forgive me, Lord Daljin!”
Elf Lir, the disciple of Alter Heinzel, quickly ran forward to hold Bin’s arm while bowing deeply to Daljin.
“Calm down, General! Even if you’re angry, how can you behave this way towards a Transcendent Being! If we anger him, if Lord Daljin decides to banish us from the forest…”
The squad leader, Belua with her black hammer, was equally shocked by Bin’s actions. She looked worried that this might jeopardize the completion of their mission.
“Ho! Aren’t you adorable? Show me some more of that dance, shall I play some music for you?”
…The Spirit of Lightning, who had seen his assault interrupted by two people, mocked the young prodigy with a sneer.
“…”
The three mages could only watch the scene unfold, dazed.
“…What is happening?”
This was something that none of them could comprehend.
…In fact, even anyone else would probably have trouble understanding.
So they silently slipped away from the noise, returning to their tent.
They didn’t believe they could do anything useful by getting involved in this chaos, and they didn’t want to end up taking the fallout from it.
They were content to talk about the bizarre spectacle they had seen during their evening check while sitting around the campfire, sharing their meal with their squad members.
“Haha! He’s insane! The Spirit of Lightning is a Transcendent Being, right? To throw a punch at such a being… Truly, mages among the unique kinds!”
“Our General may look weak, but beneath his exterior lies an untamed beast!”
The tales began spreading through the mouths of the mages, extending to the entire battalion via the Dwarves…
“WHAT? The General fought the Spirit of Lightning for hours?!”
…Amplified by the Dwarves’ dramatic storytelling…
“Why are they fighting?! Aren’t mages supposed to be friends with spirits?”
“Maybe the General is trying to tame it! He seeks even the spirit’s power.”
“…Always so polite, but he hides a beast within.”
“Whatever they say, he is the future of the continent’s people. He must be seeking greater strength to ensure victory in war.”
“Does a mage grow stronger by fighting an elemental spirit?”
“…Probably not, right?”
As ignorance of magic mingled with the tale,
“The General has tamed the Spirit of Lightning.”
“Insane! He deserves the title of the savior magician.”
Thus, a new, bizarre rumor was born.
