[314] The Wheel of Causality (6)
The instinctive thought was that he had to get out of there.
To activate the Adamantine Armament, he had to grip the sword. But Armand's hilt was too far away.
"Full Synchronization…!"
At Ji-on's psychic impulse, Armand slid from its scabbard with a sound like rushing water. Before it could reach Ji-on's hand, Uorin slapped her left palm onto the hilt.
Ji-on glared at Uorin with a ferocity that didn't match the sister he knew.
Not only had she grabbed Armand's hilt without checking her position, but he couldn't understand the strength she used to hold the sword in its synchronized state.
Uorin slowly moved the arm that held Armand in a reverse grip. Ji-on barked another command, but Armand could not draw free; it only trembled.
As the blade neared Ji-on's throat, the vibration sharpened. The wrist that slipped from her sleeve was slender as any ordinary girl's. He'd never heard she'd trained in swordsmanship.
Then how could she have this strength?
Uorin's face betrayed no strain at all.
Yet a powerful will acted in her mind—a technique the Heavens called incarnation. Swordsmen in this world named that kind of phenomenon divine transcendence.
Uorin eased the sword toward Ji-on's neck. Even divine transcendence falters if the body cannot support it, but Ji-on's weak spirit posed no problem.
"You are not worthy to be this sword's owner."
As Armand moved against Ji-on's intention, his senses blurred.
The blade finally touched his throat. The vibration intensified and the skin split.
"Break the contract. If you do not, your neck will be cut."
Where the edge met him it felt as cold as ice-water. Then, as if it had ignited, it scorched hot and he cried out before he knew it.
"Br-break the contract!"
At Ji-on's scream, Armand's tremor stopped.
Uorin at last released Ji-on's throat and sheathed Armand.
"This sword is too precious to give to you. I will see it put to good use."
Pinned against the wall, Ji-on rubbed the imprint on his neck and said, "You… who are you?"
"You would do well to remember my words, mortal."
Leaving that behind, Uorin stepped out of the prison.
The door stood open, but Ji-on could not move. Only when she had gone did reality hit him.
Do nothing. Until she released him, he would rot in an underground cell forever.
A vast despair fell over him and tears flowed. He slumped to the side, buried his face in the corner, and began to tremble.
* * *
Uorin returned Armand to its scabbard and left the underground cell.
The combat-ready silver scabbard had been ordered from an artisan ahead of time. Gold might have looked finer, but it had been ruled out for not being practical in battle.
"I hope he likes it."
As she stepped through the gate, all traces of Teraze vanished from Uorin's face.
She had reverted to a fresh-faced fourteen-year-old and ran toward the carriage, beaming.
"Shirone oppa!"
Shirone, loading luggage onto the carriage, turned. Uorin waved as she approached. Suddenly a jolt ran through his mind—oddly, it felt like an empty void. He blinked a few times and then smiled with relief. He had severed ties with Orkampf cleanly, but he still wanted to see her once more.
He'd heard Teraze's direct guard corps had carried off his unconscious body. No question—Uorin had intervened. And if not for the she'd given him, he would not have dodged Xenoger's blow and would already be dead.
"Are we leaving now?"
"Yeah. Thanks for everything. I felt bad leaving without even saying goodbye."
"Hehe, between us there's no need for formal farewells. Still, we'll meet again sometime, right?"
Shirone scratched his brow awkwardly.
He had been in critical condition only moments ago, but fortunately his mind was intact. If he continued as a mage, Uorin would be an unavoidable presence in his life.
But now that he'd finally won the freedom he'd longed for, he hoped they wouldn't be entangled again.
"Are you still upset with me?"
"It's not that. But… we're just too different."
Uorin gave a bitter smile.
Anyone who had suffered what she did at the palace would feel the same. Hearing it from the man she'd once marked as a future husband stung.
"Still… you consider me a friend, right?"
"Of course. No—you're my benefactor. You saved my life."
"Then it's fine. Don't worry. I won't trouble you again."
Shirone knew the emptiness of those words—the very lesson Uorin had taught him. Still, he was grateful she'd said them.
"All right, take care."
"Oh! And this…"
Uorin produced the sword from her waist and handed it over.
At a glance it was unmistakably Armand. Shirone stared, bewildered; Uorin said,
"I'll give it to you as a gift. Ji-on oppa won't be getting out of prison for a long time."
He'd heard from Reyna that Ji-on was alive. The details were murky, but for the offense of sullying royal blood Empress Teraze had personally thrown him in prison.
Armand radiated the same seductive light it had in Ji-on's gallery. Shirone hesitated to accept it—he didn't want any more obligations to the royal family.
Amy understood how he felt. Just hearing the names Teraze—or Kazra—gave her a headache. But this wasn't an ordinary item; it was an S-class object. No sane person would refuse it.
"Shirone, refusing a gift is rude."
When Shirone gave her a bleary look, Amy stuck out her tongue and took a step back.
Uorin pushed the sword toward Shirone's chest as if urging him to accept it.
"You can take it. Consider it Kazra's official repayment. You suffered because of palace affairs. Don't think of it as a debt."
Uorin meant it this time. This wasn't a debt—think of it as a kind of dowry.
Saying that made it hard to refuse. Still, it felt overly extravagant.
S-class objects were rare even among royalty. And Armand wasn't a toy—it was combat-specialized. Its market value at auction would be unimaginable.
"I don't know if I should accept it. I'm not a swordsman. Wouldn't it be better to give it to someone who needs it more than I do?"
"Heh, you still don't know Armand's worth. Try contracting it first. If you don't like it, you can cancel anytime."
Only then did Shirone take Armand. Having never encountered a contract-type object, he didn't know how to form the contract.
"What do I do… how do you use it?"
"Grip the magic sword with both hands, set it vertically, and say: 'I, Shirone the Great Mage, command Armand to obey my orders.'"
Shirone looked at Uorin in disbelief. She smiled sheepishly and said, "Just say 'Contract.'"
Shirone drew Armand and shouted, "Contract." The jewel flared and a grand tremor ran through his palms.
"Did that make the contract? I don't feel anything."
He'd heard Armand shared consciousness with its user. But Shirone sensed nothing unusual.
"You haven't initialized Armand yet. Full Synchronization requires the Adamantine Armament to copy the user's brain. Say 'Adamantine Armament.'"
Amy, who had witnessed the Adamantine Armament state before, swallowed hard.
The way the blade disassembled and swallowed a user was dramatic, but the stat boost that turned someone like Ji-on—who'd never handled a sword—into an instant warrior was equally remarkable.
"Adamantine Armament."
As Armand's blade unfolded into a grim metal framework, it enveloped Shirone from his face downward. For a first-time user it took longer than Ji-on's instant transformation.
A metallic skeleton spiraled along his muscle lines. When the frame completed, fine needles pierced Shirone's central nervous system.
"Ugh!"
- New user cerebral scan. Analysis. Mental activity specialization. Linguistic cognitive functions activated.
A majestic voice, as if heard through a crown, rang in his head. Organic matter swelled from the rigid frame that now hugged Shirone's body.
Amy watching realized Armand was transforming not into armor but into robes.
Light, bone-like gauntlets formed in tiers around his wrists and organic material became a hood that covered his face. Finally, a cloak spread like a stream and fluttered.
- Neural network activation. Focus-point detection. Beta-wave relaxation. Theta-wave maximization. Time-slice section search in progress. Usable. Objectification possible. Approved. Exo-brain generation. Concept-term search. 外 (Wai).
A pressure in the leather of the right gauntlet caught his attention. In his palm a convex hemispherical glass sat embedded. Light poured from it and glassy matter gathered in the air.
A violet crystal orb spun once rapidly around Shirone. It was another brain specialized for his time-slicing ability—the crystal orb called Wai (外), an external mind.
"Wow…."
Everyone watching gaped.
Hooded Shirone looked every bit a professional mage. The organic robe's desert hue wasn't flashy, but it made him look solid and formidable.
Shirone, unaware of his altered appearance, stared in amazement at the changes inside him. His physical abilities had risen, and his mind felt clearer—at least twice as lucid as his best condition.
Above all, he loved the magic-equipment exterior. Because the same brain had been duplicated, the slot remained singular, but the speed of his time-slicing leapt dramatically. For running passive magic, it was almost like having a double Spirit Zone.
"This is incredible…."
Uorin nodded with a satisfied smile.
"Armand analyzes the user, compensates for weaknesses, and maximizes strengths. Now deactivate the Adamantine Armament and try Full Synchronization."
When Shirone thought of deactivating it, the Adamantine Armament dismantled.
Armand returned to a sleek blade and flew through the air at his thought. Having achieved mental integration through the Adamantine Armament, sharing consciousness no longer felt strange.
Armand skimmed low and slid into the scabbard on the ground. Then it flew to Shirone's side and fixed there as if fastened to his belt—another way Armand avoided burdening the mage's body.
"Thanks. But no matter how I think about it, this is too much. It's an S-class object."
"Oh dear, you really are hopeless. Then again, that's why I like you."
Uorin teased, but Shirone read no deeper meaning into it.
Too soon? Maybe. But someday… he thought, and Uorin clasped his arm to ease his worry.
"It's okay. I think an object's worth depends on finding the right owner who can use its abilities. Take care of it for me. I'll see you again."
With that she turned and walked away. Shirone knew if she lingered, she wouldn't leave until the next day.
He climbed into the carriage, grateful for Uorin's final thoughtfulness.
When the horses snorted and they set off, Shirone's party cheered.
Going home felt like a dream.
For a while it was noisy. They reveled in gossip about Kazra nobles and speculated about the magic sword Armand.
An hour passed, and the carriage, arranged like a small home, settled into a peaceful silence.