Chapter 66: Jhordin (1)
Clank!
The door opened again not long after. Jhordin’s excited voice rang out.
“Come in. If you grant my request, you don’t have to pay even a single coin.”
“What’s with you all of a sudden?”
“Come in. Quickly.”
His attitude had changed so much that it was bewildering. Ronan and Adeshan followed Jhordin almost without thinking.
His office gave the impression of being barren rather than clean. Through the excessively high windows, only the pale white sky was visible.
Furniture consisted of a desk and drawers placed in the corners of the room, chairs, and a desk placed within arm’s reach. Ronan, who was sniffing around, furrowed his eyebrows.
‘No smell at all.’
The lack of scent also contributed to the sterile atmosphere. Compared to Varen Panacir’s office, which was always filled with the smell of tea and cookies, it was a completely different environment. Jhordin pointed to the desk.
“Take a seat. As you can see, I dislike clutter.”
There were no pieces of furniture meant for reception. Ronan, leaving a hesitant Adeshan behind, perched himself on Jhordin’s desk.
Thud!
The moment Jhordin closed the door, the external noise disappeared completely.
“Huh?!”
Adeshan flinched. The sudden silence was as shocking as a firecracker exploding right next to one’s ear. Ronan asked a question.
“Is the entire room under a silence spell?”
“Yeah. I dislike being disturbed as much as being meddled with.”
Jhordin fastened each of the differently shaped locks one by one. The sound of the lock clicking was unusually loud.
There were seven locks, one more than what Ronan had expected. Jhordin’s office, already devoid of any smell, was like a sensory prison. Jhordin, who had locked all the locks, approached the two.
“Well, shall we begin our talk?”
“Sure. What is your request?”
“First of all, can you show me that ring?”
Jhordin extended his hand. After a moment of hesitation, Ronan handed over Sarante’s ring while resting his left hand on his sword handle, ready to react if Jhordin attempted anything untoward.
“Don’t handle it too roughly. It’s something a friend gave me.”
“Of course. But the fact that you consider the giver a friend… that’s quite a valuable connection you have.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s not easy to be friends with someone who has lived for so long. Seems like well over two thousand years… but he’s not a dragon, he’s an elf. His mana essence is gentle.”
Ronan’s eyes widened. Then, Jhordin proceeded to deduce Sarante’s predominant attributes and magical tendencies when using magic.
“He mainly dealt with wind magic, but he was proficient in various attributes. He was an impressive mage.”
“How do you know all this?”
“I have talents like this, so I make a living doing odd jobs.”
Ronan narrowed his eyes. He had tried to play it cool, but clearly, he was an exceptional individual. After examining the ring carefully, Jhordin spoke.
“Anyway, my request is… to extract a little magic from this ring. Would that be possible?”
“Extracting magic?”
“Yes. I needed the mana of a long-lived race that has been using magic for a long time. It’s essential to my experiments.”
“There are some elves in Philleon, too.”
“No elves have lived this long.”
Judging by the way he spoke, Sarante had lived a long time, even by elven standards. Ronan didn’t have to look hard to realize that he was as excited as a child.
He didn’t know what he was experimenting on, but he was looking for it. Out of nowhere, Ronan snatched the ring from his hand.
“I don’t want to do it.”
His tone sounded as if he was warning against even dreaming about it. Jhordin, with an expressionless face, responded.
“Why?”
“I don’t want to risk damaging the ring. What if something goes wrong?”
“I can assure you that won’t happen. I just need to extract a small amount of magic for the experiment. Even if it slightly diminishes its power, it will quickly restore itself.”
“I still don’t want to do it. I’d rather pay for the entry.”
“Then get out.”
“Sure. Let’s go Adeshan.”
“R-Ronan?”
Adeshan’s eyes widened. Ronan swiftly took a step towards the door, about to reach for the first lock.
“Wait.”
Jhordin’s voice caught his leg. Ronan turned his head, careful not to let his smile slip.
“What?”
“In that case, how about this, I’ll help you wholeheartedly until you solve your problem. And I won’t take any money.”
“What about Adeshan’s problem?”
“That’s a slightly different matter.”
“Goodbye.”
“Do as you wish.”
Eventually, Jhordin surrendered. Ronan spun on his heel and started heading out, a smile starting to creep across his face. Jhordin’s lips twisted as he saw that smile.
“I’m looking forward to the future.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
Ronan no longer held back his laughter. He hadn’t been fond of the way Jhordin had directly demanded money from the beginning, but he felt slightly better now. Desperation was the best bargaining tool after all.
“How long will the magic extraction take?”
“Shortest would be a few hours, longest a few days. But before that, Let’s focus on resolving your problem.”
“How long will that take?”
“Fixing mana impurities should take just a few minutes. First, stand over there so I can assess your condition.”
Jhordin had Ronan stand in the middle of the office. He placed his hand on Ronan’s back and chanted an unintelligible spell.
“Wow…”
Aedeshan marveled at the mana coursing through Ronan’s skin. Jhordin, with his eyes closed while analyzing Ronan’s condition, couldn’t hide his smug smile.
“I’ve never seen anything like this before.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Just a few days ago, your senses were intact. It was only a day… even at its longest, it felt like two. Have you really never sensed mana before?”
“Well, yeah.”
“But you’ve manifested a sword Qi…”
Jhordin’s expression gradually hardened. His palm, which had been moving down his spine, stopped at the back of his heart. His voice came out as if he were chewing on his words.
“…Are you under a curse?”
“How did you know?”
“Because nothing else makes sense. There should definitely be traces of mana flowing through your body, but now it’s completely blocked. It was too subtle; I almost missed it.”
‘I didn’t even mention it, but it was the first time I’d been caught since Sarante. Ronan sighed lightly.’
“…So it’s a curse after all. Is there no way to undo it?”
“Hold on. I’ll try to forcefully break it.”
“What?”
‘Forcefully?’ Ronan was about to turn his head. Suddenly, a shock hit him as if he had been struck by lightning.
It felt like the sensation when he shot his blade at Shullifen. The sharp pain, starting from his chest, spread throughout his body through his veins.
Ronan clutched his head and crouched down. Thankfully, the pain subsided within a few seconds.
“Damn it, are you out of your mind…”
“Grraaaah!”
Just as Ronan was about to turn his head while cursing, blood spurted from Jhordin’s mouth. A crescent-shaped spray of blood splattered the floor. Adeshan came running in, horrified.
“Professor?!”
“What? What’s going on?”
“Cough, ughhh… Get out of the way…!”
Ronan noticed that blood was not only coming from Jhordin’s mouth but also from his nose, eyes, and ears. He staggered and rushed to the desk, rummaging through drawers in a frenzy.
Finally, he found a vial that seemed like a potion and brought it to his mouth.
Gulp!
It took exactly three seconds for the liquid to pass down his throat. Then, once again, blood exploded from Jhordin’s mouth as if it were a burst dam.
“Kerhhhh!”
“Kyaaah!”
Mixed with the potions, it seemed like there was even more of it. Meanwhile, Lamancha was absorbing the blood that splattered on the sword’s blade. Ronan rushed over to support him. His slender body trembled like a twig in a storm.
‘Dammit! He is not going to die like this, is he?’
The situation looked serious. To make matters worse, Cita was in Nimbuten. Ronan estimated the distance to the nearest infirmary. Suddenly, Jhordin, who had knocked away Ronan’s hand, clung to the bookshelf like a cicada.
“What are you doing?”
“Okay, pick up the book I’m talking about. Top left, third column, fifth from the right…!”
“The ones at the top, I’ll take those!”
Ronan and Adeshan each pulled out a book pointed out by Jhordin. A total of ten books were pulled out.
‘This array… Where was it?’
Ronan smirked. The sight of the books sporadically missing from the bookshelf looked somewhat familiar. Jhordin, after confirming the appearance of the bookshelf, shouted while vomiting blood.
“Kashpa, Lunazi, Delperim…!”
“What?”
It was an incantation from memory. There had definitely been a time when Elizabeth chanted it.
Kugugung!
Suddenly, the bookshelf pushed backward, revealing a long, dark corridor. Ronan twisted his lips. He knew where this passage led. Jhordin turned forward.
“Kuh… Cough… Crawk…”
“Enough, Adeshan, come with me.”
“Ye-yeah.”
Ronan lifted Jhordin and dashed down the corridor. Just when he thought everything was turning completely dark, a familiar space revealed itself. Adeshan, with round eyes, looked around.
“Wh-where is this?”
A massive library covered in books on all sides. It was the office of the curse professor, Sekreet. A distant voice echoed from somewhere.
“Welcome. Jhordin.”
“Sekreet!”
Ronan exclaimed. A child, who had been reading a book while seated in the middle of the library, stood up with wide eyes.
“Ronan? Why are you here…”
“It’s been a while, and there’s no time for greetings. Take a look at him.”
“Jhordin? What happened to him?”
“I don’t know. He collapsed suddenly while trying to open my mana.”
“I don’t quite understand what you’re saying. Anyway, let’s see.”
Ronan laid Jhordin on the floor. Since the sun was still up, Sekreet had the appearance of a child. Wrinkles appeared on his young forehead as he placed his hand on Jhordin’s forehead.
“Huh, what a reckless thing to do.”
“Why did this happen?”
“Your curse was transferred in a minuscule amount. I’m going to extract it now.”
Muttering something, Sekreet removed his hand from Jhordin’s forehead. A shadow-like substance, wriggling like a snake, was drawn out of his palm.
“What the hell is that?”
Ronan frowned. It looked like a miniature version of the shadow he had seen in the alternative world.
Sekreet swung his hand as if casting a spell. The wriggling shadow on the floor made eerie sounds as it writhed.
-■■■■!!
At the moment the shadow leaped toward Jhordin again, Ronan pulled out his scabbard.
Swoosh!
Lamancha’s blade made a slashing motion, splitting the shadow in half. Ronan muttered as if chewing on his words.
“Damn it, I’m out of luck this morning.”
-■■….
The shadow disappeared as if blown away by the wind. Jhordin’s convulsions stopped. He hastily sat up and vomited the blood from his mouth.
“Shit, ughhh… damn it…!”
“Jhordin, you got lucky. If you were a bit late, you’d be dead.”
Sekreet handed him a water bottle. Jhordin, sitting on the floor, wiped his mouth and got up. Bloodstains below his nose and eyes were gruesome.
“Phew… did you two know each other before?”
“Yeah. We talked about it once. He said he’s been cursed by something unprecedented.”
“So it was this student, damn it—.”
Ronan arched an eyebrow. Sekeet and Jhordin seemed to have some sort of rapport. They began to discuss the curse upon them. Ronan interrupted, cutting them off.
“What happened, is everything okay now?”
“I see. It’s hard to say I’m alive because of you, because your curse nearly killed me.”
“How did my curse get transferred to the professor?”
“It was my carelessness. Even though it was a powerful curse, I thought it would be fine since it had been deflected once… turned out, it wasn’t.”
Jhordin said the moment he touched Ronan’s mana flow, the curse was transferred. His face was as pale as a corpse, and he wiped away the blood that dripped from his ear while speaking.
“But at least I achieved my goal.”
“Really?”
“To some extent. I succeeded in slightly enhancing your sensory perception. Sekreet, take a look.”
“Alright.”
Sekreet, who had been standing behind him, placed a hand on Ronan’s back, his eyes widening in disbelief.
“Really, Jhordin. How did this happen-!”
“I told you.”
“Ronan. Have you recently met your father?”
“What kind of stupid question is that?”
“Then have you fallen into a pit filled with cursed eyes, or experienced an event significant enough to greatly affect the curse?”
“I haven’t really experienced anything like that.”
Ronan scratched his head as he spoke. While there had been many events, there weren’t any that seemed particularly connected to the curse. At most, he had received a ring from Sarante.
Sekreet spoke up.
“I don’t know why these things are happening, but… the curse seems to have weakened since I last saw it.”
“What?”
“Just as I said. There’s a strange power within you, as peculiar as the curse itself, weakening it. Like a storm gradually eroding a rock.”
Ronan’s eyes widened. Suddenly, he couldn’t make sense of what he was hearing. But the important thing right now wasn’t to understand the cause.
“Then, can I… now manipulate or sense mana?”
“In theory, yes. Since Jhordin managed to clear that blocked path. However, this particular curse isn’t something that can be fixed immediately. To fully control mana, you’ll have to gradually weaken the curse, almost like peeling off layers of an onion.”
Sekreet was looking at Ronan, his eyes filled with amazement, as if he had just witnessed a miracle. Ronan couldn’t hide his excitement either.
Finally, he had managed to retrieve the sword technique that even those less skilled than monkeys used.
In an elated voice, Ronan asked, “How long will it take?”
“Assuming consistent training every day… I think about 20 years should do.”
“Damn, 20 years?”
Ronan’s face stiffened. He had only been expecting maybe a year at most, but twenty years? It was enough time for those bald men who went around the world destroying everything to have a family, build a house, and settle down.
Ronan was about to say something when Jhordin, who had been sitting silently, spoke up.
“…No, it won’t take that long.”
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