Chapter 58 The Tender Touch of Malice
The wind causes Silveryn’s skirt to flutter above her knees.
Worried that too much would be revealed, I spread out the blanket carefully over her legs.
She then kicks away the blanket like someone with restless sleep habits.
I watch the blanket tumble onto the sandy beach, feeling perplexed.
“I don’t need it. I have a lot of body heat.”
“…”
“Hurry up and lie down.”
I pick up the blanket again, discard any random thoughts, and lay down next to her.
Above us, wispy clouds slowly drift by in an otherwise perfect sky.
“Eternia is really the perfect place to practice Spirit Arts.”
“Teacher, I have a question.”
“Go ahead.”
“Does Eternia not have a winter?”
I assumed it was just a warm region, but something seemed odd. We were now well into December, and on the map, this place was far to the north of Weisel.
“That’s right. There is no winter. When winter approaches and Plantara’s movements become sluggish, she just erases it.”
Did I hear that right? Erase a season?
“Is that possible?”
“For ordinary humans, it’s impossible. Only Erzebet could do it, no one else.”
To control the season of an entire region—it feels like the realm of gods, beyond magic.
“Is it possible to do that with the power of just one person?”
“It’s impossible by oneself. Even for the most powerful mage, there is a limit to magical power. However, if you use the power of nature and spirits, it’s a different story.”
It’s a realm far beyond my grasp.
“Beyond using the power within one’s body, if you understand how to draw upon and manipulate external transcendent power from the earth, nature, spirits, holy power, you can become an Archmage.”
“…”
“Are you a little intrigued by Spirit Arts now?”
“…What am I supposed to do?”
“Feel the wind. Feel the sunlight and the flow of the river. The texture of the sand. Imprint everything—warmth and cold—onto your skin.”
It just sounds like I have to lie back and relax.
“Imagine that every hair on your skin has eyes, noses, and mouths.”
“That’s hard to imagine.”
“It’s about enhancing your sensitivity to nature and spirits. Some people can do this from birth, and others might never manage it their whole life. You lean more towards the latter, so you must work hard incessantly.”
I have heard multiple times that I’m tremendously untalented regarding magic or Spirit Arts.
Trying to practice as Silveryn suggested, all I can think of is a mythical monster with eyes all over its body, but I feel nothing else.
How should I approach this?
I slow down my breathing and focus on all my senses.
The sun is warm, the wind just cool enough. The sand is soft, and slowly I grow drowsy.
Just as my eyes begin to close, Silveryn pinches one of my cheeks.
“…?”
“Don’t you dare sleep.”
So, she was watching me all along.
With control over one cheek now gone, I say,
“I don’t know what to do.”
What’s the difference between doing this and when I practiced with a log in Weisel, or during the entrance exam when surrounded by nature?
“Don’t be in a hurry. Just feel with an open and relaxed mind.”
That doesn’t sound all good; I wonder why.
“But why isn’t being open to sensations only a good thing?”
“Imagine someone with extremely good hearing. The sound of an ant’s footsteps. The beating of a mosquito’s wings. The heartbeat of a person—even at great distances. Do you think you could live well and take advantage of such hearing?”
“…I don’t know.”
“Think about hearing every sound in the world. You wouldn’t be able to sleep comfortably. It would seriously disrupt daily life. In extreme cases, it might even drive you mad. It’s the same if your sensitivity to spirit entities is extremely high. You’d be forced to take in unwanted stimuli.”
Now I understand a little. There was a reason why children like Luna behaved so sensitively.
“Your sensitivity is on the other extreme. It’s locked up tight, like a rock or metal. To put it bluntly, even if you train your whole life, you’d barely manage a mid-level spirit. Though with my help, you might improve a bit.”
“So, since I can’t handle spirits, what am I good at?”
Seeing my disappointment, Silveryn laughs lightly and says,
“That’s your talent too. Sturdiness that isn’t easily disturbed by your surroundings. The potential to become stronger mentally than anyone else.”
Mental strength doesn’t seem as great an advantage as freely controlling spirits. She isn’t just trying to make me feel better, is she?
“It’s like two sides of the same coin.”
Silveryn releases the pinched cheek and strokes it gently.
“That’s right. Even if this place was cursed, filled with malevolent spirit entities, you could nap in peace if you felt it was safe. In fact, people like you would be the safest in such a location. Those with high sensitivity would struggle to last an hour.”
“Luna told me something… She came to me suddenly and said… the children are avoiding me. Does it have something to do with this?”
Silveryn, propping herself on her elbow, turned towards me and said,
“It’s somewhat related. But it’s not entirely because of that. Spirits dislike and fear you. It’s unusual for spirits to feel fear, unless they’re facing someone of my power.”
Being disliked by spirits sounds like being a rarity in and of itself. I had hoped to handle at least one spirit, but with her saying this, the task seems daunting.
“Why would they fear me if I can’t do them any harm?”
“Well, I somewhat suspect it might be related to your sword, but to be certain, I’d have to study it.”
“From what you’re saying, spirits feel so out of reach.”
“You worry too much for someone in front of me. If I set my mind to it, I could make the neighborhood dog sign a contract with a spirit. Just do as I say, my student.”
“…”
Silveryn chuckled, prodding my cheek with her forefinger as if handling a peculiar creature.
“And I like your nature. It’s completely the opposite of mine. You have traits that I lack, which make me feel… balanced, I guess, whenever I’m with you… Just more at peace. Your talent is enough. You pass as my student.”
I thought students should be similar, yet she says the opposite. Well, anyhow, that’s fine. A pass is a pass. If Silveryn likes it, what more can I ask for?
***
The expression on Priest Colt as he re-read the report from the Romeda Forest Keeper was far from favorable.
Reports of large movements of ghouls were coming in thick and fast, and there were sporadic incursions of demonic creatures into areas previously protected by holy power.
With the weakening of Holy Maiden Florence’s power, such incidents were becoming more frequent.
Amidst this, ominous news had emerged from the Romeda Forest.
Romeda Forest was one of the sacred areas directly managed by the Order.
Land where the blessed tree, Hanoks, over 500 years old, had taken deep root.
The holy power emanating from Hanoks protected the surrounding lands from black magic.
“Is there really no further contact from the forest keeper?”
To this, Brook, the commander in charge of the Romeda Forest task force, replied with a grim expression.
“That is correct.”
Colt put the letter he held back into his pocket and said,
“…We must hurry.”
The thirty holy knights, including Colt, were all dispatched directly from the holy city, under the command of the Order.
Their mission was to check the status of Hanoks.
Romeda Forest was a place ordinary people couldn’t even enter.
The forest keeper had once held a high-ranking position as a court mage in the empire, and Romeda Forest was guarded by powerful summoned spirits.
Barrier stones also completely concealed Hanoks from the world.
Because of this, not any capable individual or demonic creature could approach Hanoks.
There had been no threats to Hanoks for hundreds of years.
But the urgent message sent by the forest keeper had only one eerie line scrawled on it.
“Hanoks is in danger.”
The Order assumed it wasn’t a serious issue and sent only a small number of personnel, but Colt thought differently.
The closer they got to Romeda Forest, the stronger the ominous premonition.
Despite freezing in the drizzle of early winter, and the ground turning to sludge, slowing their steps, they could not afford to delay.
Holy Knight Brook said,
“From here on is the boundary of Romeda Forest.”
Colt warned,
“An attack could come at any time. Stay as vigilant as possible.”
A heavy sense of tension hovered among the holy knights.
Colt touched the soil and closed his eyes for a moment. The holy power of Hanoks he sensed was alarmingly weakened.
“We need to move even faster.”
Colt unfurled the map of Romeda Forest provided by the Order. In this vast forest, only the forest keeper and the Order officials knew the precise location of Hanoks.
Colt stepped to the front of the thirty holy knights.
“I will lead from here.”
If they took the shortcut, they could reach Hanoks in about five or six hours.
The march continued in tension and silence.
As the sun was setting, the task force stood before the barrier stone that protected Hanoks.
Luckily, the barrier stone was intact. That meant Hanoks was still safe for now. To enter the barrier, one needed to possess holy power or destroy the stone itself.
To check the condition of Hanoks, Colt led the holy knights into the barrier.
Beyond the illusory walls created by the barrier, the massive tree they had come to protect came into view.
Colt approached the roots of Hanoks, widespread across the earth, and placed his hand upon them.
Something strange was happening.
“No… what is this…?”
Although the barrier stone was intact, Hanoks was losing its holy power and was dying.
Black droplets fell onto the back of Colt’s hand.
It was not rain. The viscous liquid had a foul scent. It fell from the sky like rain in quick succession.
Suddenly, from behind Colt, the holy knights exclaimed,
“Priest! Now’s not the time for that!”
Colt turned around.
The knights had drawn their swords with horror-stricken faces, and their gaze was directed above.
Colt also slowly looked up.
And froze in shock.
The forest keeper and ten silver wolf spirits were strung up, hanging from the tree.
“Ah… ah… ah…”
Colt was at a loss for words for a moment.
In the leaves of Hanoks that covered the sky, thousands of leeches clung, spraying blood as if holding a feast of illusions.
Colt barely regained his senses and shouted,
“We… we need to get out! It’s a trap! Hanoks is as good as dead!”
The holy knights faltered in panic for a moment.
“Quickly!”
Colt hurriedly rose and ran towards the outside of the barrier.
From beneath the knights, an arm shot up out of nowhere and grabbed one of them by the leg, pulling him under.
“Ah, aaaaah!”
The ground where the knight stood collapsed, and he disappeared.
At last, the commander realized the situation and cried out,
“It’s ghouls! They’ve lain in ambush! Retreat immediately!”
And from beneath the ground, more hands reached out, snatching the knights one after another.
Screams followed in quick succession.
The holy knights scrambled in total disarray. But it was already too late.
Only five holy knights managed to make it out of the barrier alive, following Colt.
Their commander, too, was caught in the ghoul’s assault and failed to escape.
One surviving holy knight asked,
“Could it be… could it really be… that?”
“It’s a warlock. There’s no time to explain. We have to run.”
How the warlock managed to breach Hanoks’s holy power was a mystery, but it was not the time for questions.
Colt led the remaining knights away from Hanoks as quickly as possible.
During the escape, the knights kept stumbling and falling.
Each time, they helped each other up and continued, but the frequency of falls increased.
Their condition deteriorated rapidly.
And at some point, the knights could no longer keep up with Colt.
Colt sensed something was wrong and looked back. A few steps behind, the knights were flailing their arms in the air.
“Pr… Priest. Has night come? I… I can’t see anything.”
“I’ll create light with magic…”
Colt stopped talking mid-sentence and checked the knights’ eyes. Their pupils had turned stark white, like those of a blind man.
“Oh no, this can’t be.”
They had all become blind.
Colt shivered all over. Then he recalled the scene inside the barrier again.
The hanging bodies, the leeches, the blood.
It was a curse ritual. The warlock had already known the holy knights would come to Hanoks and had set up a ritual site for curses.
Overwhelmed by despair, Colt sank to the ground.
Escape was impossible.
They had been playing into the hands of the warlock all along.
From the moment they entered Romeda Forest, their death had been foreshadowed.
Colt had not escaped the curse either. His vision began to darken.
Before it was too late, Colt took out a piece of paper and wrote about the appearance of the warlock.
After attaching it to Stich and sending it flying, Colt closed his eyes and offered his final prayer.
From the distance, the ghouls’ footsteps drew near.
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