What a Strange Being (1)
The green gemstone in Iraniel's hand was very small—smaller even than an ordinary person's thumbnail.
At a glance, one might believe it to be nothing more than a cheap trinket.
Now that the light it had been emitting had disappeared, it looked even more ordinary. In fact, one could say it was just a piece of rock.
The Yulian Mercenaries blinked in disbelief. That thing was supposed to be a Holy Stone? It was hard to believe.
Seeing their reaction, Iraniel smiled.
"Why the long faces? Are you disappointed?"
"......."
"You mustn't judge anything by its appearance. One must strive to see the essence within."
"Yes, ma'am...."
Like students responding to their teacher, the mercenaries all nodded.
But disappointment still lingered on their faces. The Holy Stone didn't carry the majesty or mystery they had expected.
If it had at least continued to glow, maybe they'd have thought differently. But there was no special aura to speak of.
These were people who had been through war and chaos—hard to impress. They were now convinced the tales they'd heard about the Holy Stone had been exaggerated.
'So that's why it never worked even after we collected it several times.'
'That light probably came from the World Tree or something.'
'Now that I'm holding it, it's just a regular rock.'
Iraniel only smiled quietly at their reactions.
She knew it was a realization that didn't come easily to those who lived such harsh lives.
Looking toward Deneb, Iraniel said,
"It would be difficult to carry this around in its current form. Let me make it easier for you."
She took off the necklace that hung around her own neck.
It was a plain and modest necklace, but its centerpiece was a delicately crafted structure that could hold a small gem.
Carefully, Iraniel brought the Holy Stone to the setting.
Click.
With a soft sound, the Holy Stone fit perfectly into place.
Iraniel then placed the necklace around Deneb's neck and said,
"This necklace was made to hold a Blessing Stone. It is a precious heirloom passed down only to the Grand Chieftain. For now, I will entrust it to you."
"Th-thank you."
Deneb bowed deeply, overwhelmed. She couldn't understand why she was being given such a valuable item.
She immediately tried to hand it over to Lionel. After all, it was meant to go to the Pope.
Lionel, thinking the same, stepped forward to express his gratitude.
"We are deeply grateful for the Grand Chieftain's generosity. The Empire will not forget your grace, and His Holiness the Pope will surely repay—"
Iraniel interrupted, her expression cold.
"Human."
"Yes?"
"The Blessing Stone is not for the Pope."
"W-what do you mean by that...?"
"The Blessing Stone is for that girl, Deneb, from me—the representative of the elves and the guardian of the World Tree."
"G-Grand Chieftain! But still..."
"Therefore, I do not permit the Pope to take it. Until the war is over, Deneb shall be the rightful bearer of the Blessing Stone. Do you understand?"
"....."
"If you try to take it by force, the Empire will find itself at war with the elves as well. For the Blessing Stone carries the authority to mobilize the elves."
"......."
Lionel couldn't utter a word under Iraniel's sharp declaration. Neither could the other mercenaries.
Deneb stood flustered, unsure what to do.
She had simply accepted a request, and now it felt like she'd become a thief who stole a sacred treasure.
Gritting his teeth, Lionel lowered his head. After a moment, he asked again.
"Then what if that low-ranking priestess offers the Holy Stone to His Holiness of her own will?"
"That would be her choice. I will not stop that. But if it happens, I will personally visit the Pope and take it back."
"...Understood."
Lionel lowered his head once more. In the end, it was a game of words. Who could possibly defy the Pope's orders?
Deneb would surely offer it up without resistance.
Iraniel smiled as she looked at Lionel's bowed head. Of course she knew how things would play out.
The Pope would surely do whatever it took to obtain the item. And Deneb had the kind of heart that would willingly offer it.
Everyone would assume that. Even the elven elders probably thought the same.
But Iraniel thought differently.
'The Pope will not obtain the Blessing Stone so easily.'
Her gaze shifted to Ghislain.
'That dark mage won't let it happen.'
Though their interactions had been brief, Iraniel had already understood what kind of person Ghislain was.
That boy would never give his loyalty to the Pope. He reeked of trouble and defiance.
If it came to it, he would ensure the Blessing Stone stayed with Deneb—even if it meant fighting the Pope.
That was what she believed, watching him.
'...Huh?'
But Ghislain stood there, staring blankly at the necklace around Deneb's neck.
Iraniel tilted her head and asked,
"Why? Did you sense something from the Blessing Stone?"
"Ah... no. I just found it fascinating."
Ghislain answered vaguely. He was feeling a strange mixture of joy and amazement.
'That necklace... it's mine.'
It was the very necklace he had taken from Berhem—the Saintess's necklace. Everything had started when he acquired it.
It was that necklace's holy power that made him see the past in his dreams, and ultimately allowed him to travel back in time.
At the time, the Holy Stone had been missing, leaving only the necklace behind.
'So this is how it was acquired. It must've later become a holy relic once Deneb's holy power imbued it.'
It was likely that other relics had been passed down in a similar way.
Though he didn't yet know exactly what remained, he had a feeling they'd come to him through similar means.
Iraniel studied him for a moment longer, then asked again.
"Your name is Astion, yes?"
"That's right."
"Despite having learned black magic, I feel no evil from you. Only a purity greater than anyone I've ever met. It speaks to how extraordinary your mental strength must be. Truly remarkable."
"I've got a strong will, that's for sure."
Ghislain joked, praising himself. One of the elven elders cautiously chimed in beside him.
"Don't take this the wrong way... but could it be that something's wrong with your mind? Or perhaps you have... peculiar tastes...?"
"......"
"I mean... it's just hard to believe, you know? A pure-hearted dark mage? Usually, people who use black magic are full of resentment, or they disregard life entirely out of selfishness."
"......."
A brief silence followed.
Then, the entire Yulian Mercenary group burst out laughing.
"Pfft! As expected of the elder's sharp insight!"
"Yep, something's definitely off with him!"
"His nickname is Crazy!"
They all started teasing wildly. Opportunities to roast Ghislain this openly didn't come often.
"........"
As Ghislain quietly raised his staff, the laughter ceased. The elves, however, continued to stare at him curiously.
Clicking his tongue, Ghislain gave a somewhat more truthful answer.
"I gathered the energy using magic artifacts. The temple of Serana also helped me a bit. Ancient black magic was originally a holy power meant for the dead, was it not?"
All the elves nodded. That much was common knowledge.
Still, Iraniel was curious why Ghislain had learned black magic.
"With your skill, you didn't need to learn black magic. Is there a reason you did?"
"I tend to learn whatever I can, if it makes me stronger. After all, the use of a tool depends on the will of the one wielding it. The tool itself holds no good or evil."
"That's true. But holding on to the souls of the dead goes against the natural order. I know you're not unaware of that."
Iraniel was concerned about that part. A practitioner of black magic could fall into temptation at any time.
All the more because Ghislain was a companion to Deneb, the one now bearing the Blessing Stone.
Then, Ghislain grinned and raised his hand.
"Better to show you once than explain a hundred times."
Paaaak!
Black smoke rose, and a Death Knight appeared. The elves stiffened at once, their expressions tense.
The summoned Death Knight was Gasqot. After glancing around briefly, he spoke in a gruff voice.
"...What is it?"
"Oh, just that these people here seemed a little concerned."
Ghislain gestured toward Gasqot.
"You don't have to worry too much. We're companions."
"Companions?"
"Yes, we've agreed to stay together until the Salvation Church is destroyed. They're not bound by my will—they follow by their own decision."
Iraniel was slightly surprised upon seeing the Death Knight.
"You gave them free will."
"Helps them fight better."
Ghislain answered casually, and Iraniel nodded.
No dark mage gave Death Knights free will. Without forceful domination, one couldn't control them at all.
"I never doubted your sincerity, but I admit I was a bit worried. Now I see there's no need."
Just the fact that the Death Knights chose to remain tied to this world by their own will was enough for her to set her worries aside.
Unlike Iraniel, the other elves still couldn't fully hide their suspicion and unease.
Ghislain shrugged at Gasqot and said,
"You heard that? I think we finally got through to them."
"...Don't call me out for nonsense like this. I'm busy recovering."
Gasqot replied gruffly and vanished again.
With that concern resolved, Iraniel now asked something else.
"You said there were a few things you needed. Aside from the Blessing Stone, is there anything else you want?"
Ghislain was the type to never hesitate when it came to receiving gifts. He beamed and nodded.
"Yes, there's something I've really wanted to ask you for, Grand Chieftain."
"Go on. As repayment for saving us, I will help in any way I can, so long as it's within reason."
"I want to learn spirit magic."
"...What?"
"I want a spirit friend too."
"........"
The elves stared at Ghislain with dazed expressions. This guy really thought he could get anything just because he asked for it.
And a dark mage, wanting to learn spirit magic? That had to be the most mismatched thing they'd ever heard.
Still, Ghislain remained completely unfazed and declared confidently,
"No harm in learning something new, right?"
That was always his way. Ghislain never hesitated to learn or use whatever was available to him.
Iraniel didn't bother hiding her intrigue.
"Spirit magic isn't something you learn. You must naturally bond with a spirit, become friends with it."
"I know that."
"If you've never felt the presence of a spirit, it's impossible to learn spirit magic."
In reality, only a few could truly wield spirit magic. Unless you were like the elves—living in harmony with nature—it was nearly impossible.
Few were born with an affinity for spirits, and most humans, growing up in polluted environments, lost that sense entirely.
Ghislain knew all that. That's why he planned to try a different approach.
"With the power of the Grand Chieftain and the elders, couldn't you at least introduce me to the spirits?"
"......"
"Please make the introductions."
There are some who, even with spirit affinity, cannot form a bond for unavoidable reasons. Among elves, a special rite is passed down to guide such individuals by summoning spirits.
That rite is called the Spirit Ceremony. Ghislain was requesting exactly that.
"...That much, of course, I can do. But even then, if the spirits reject you, you won't be able to learn."
"I understand. I'll handle the bonding part. Just connect me with them."
"......"
After a moment's thought, Iraniel nodded.
"Very well. That's not a difficult request. After all, the choice lies with the spirits."
She looked around at the other mercenaries as well and said,
"If any of you wish to try, you're welcome. Perhaps some of you will catch the spirits' interest."
At that, the mercenaries' faces lit up. With some luck, they might get the chance to learn spirit magic.
They quickly formed a line at appropriate intervals, excitement on their faces. Then Iraniel closed her eyes slowly and raised her hand.
Soon, a beautiful voice, like a song, flowed from her lips.
— Your forms, your will, your memories carved into nature, come to this place. I seek to be joined with you. I will not harm you, and I listen to your stillness.
Paaaak!
Mysterious patterns lit up beneath everyone's feet, radiating light.
Curves like tree roots formed, and a soft glow flowed like moonlight.
A gentle chime-like vibration filled the space. It felt as though the spirit realm and this world had overlapped.
Saaaah...
Countless lights bloomed in the air.
Each one had a different hue, floating like tiny butterflies.
Their numbers grew until hundreds of lights fluttered around the people.
Iraniel's powerful will had opened a portion of the spirit realm and drawn forth many spirits.
They began to circle around the mercenaries, watching them like curious children.
They swarmed toward some more than others, but light came to nearly all.
Even around Ghislain, a good number of lights gathered.
Smiling, he closed his eyes.
'Spirit magic is an incredibly unfair power on the battlefield.'
They could enhance the caster, or be deployed as separate fighters.
In fact, in the future, Erenes used spirits to perform multiple roles at once.
Iraniel spoke quietly.
"You must be sincere. You must truly want to be friends. Even the slightest lie will block you from communion. Communion is the same as becoming one."
"I understand."
Ghislain regulated his breath and sent his intent to the spirits floating nearby.
— I want to be your friend. Run with me across the battlefield.
Ghislain imagined it.
His ideal battle. The perfect battlefield.
Hundreds of Death Knights sweeping across the field. Powerful spells tearing the sky and splitting the earth.
Then spirits summoned from all directions unleashed natural disasters that engulfed the world.
Amid that chaos, Ghislain charged alone into enemy ranks and crushed everything.
He sent that vision to the spirits, sincerely, without a trace of falsehood.
It was a glorious scene. At this level, he could even take down a dragon alone.
He looked like a god of destruction descending upon the battlefield.
'Perfect.'
Ghislain smiled. Surely no spirit would reject him after seeing this grand, awe-inspiring vision.
He hadn't mixed in a single lie, so his sincerity was perfectly conveyed to the spirits. It was flawless communion.
And the spirits, feeling Ghislain's true heart—
PAAAACK!
Scattered in all directions and fled.
"....???"
Ghislain stood there blankly, blinking in confusion.
Muttering in a dazed voice, he said,
"...But I was being sincere."
Iraniel sighed and covered her face with her hand. She had heard the whispers of the fleeing spirits.
And so she quietly said,
"Spirits... do not befriend those who want to become gods of destruction."
"......."
Ghislain felt slightly wronged.
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