Chapter 155

The curtain fell on the Joint Suppression Campaign after a slight delay. Between the post-incident investigation into the sudden anomaly and the additional procedures required to manage the aftermath of tremors that had collapsed half the cave, the closing had been pushed back.

Whirrrr—

"Guild Master Germain, sir! The magic tools are functioning normally! Mana is reaching all the way to the interior of the Cave of Contemplation!"

It was only after night had fully settled and the cave's tremors had ceased that the flow of mana finally returned to normal.

"Good! Restrict all entry into the cave and activate the barrier formulas prohibiting access to the surrounding area! Additionally, deploy detection magic tools to conduct a thorough survey of conditions inside the cave from every angle!"

Under Germain's orders, the organizers moved without delay. Together with newly dispatched investigators, they sorted through the situation and began gathering clues to piece together what the anomaly had done.

Neiiigh—!

Meanwhile, the participants who'd been waiting in the camp tents trickled back to Guild Headquarters one by one, using the transport that arrived late into the night.

"Anyone without injuries, up front! If you're suffering from exhaustion or severe fatigue, take the middle! And wounded personnel, board the last carriage!"

Everyone moved according to instructions, and before long the line of carriages began cutting across the plain.

The sound of hooves echoed across the vast open air.

The eventful final round of the Joint Suppression Campaign drew to a close beneath a midnight sky dusted thick with stars.

Roughly half a day passed after that.

Inside one of the many guest rooms lining the Guild Headquarters building—a room that caught an unusual amount of sunlight.

"……"

Rays of light flickered through the gap in the curtains, tapping against tightly shut eyelids.

Mikhail woke with a pinch between his brows.

Rustle.

A blanket heavy enough for the dead of winter pressed down on his body, and two exceptionally warm, soft bundles of fur were curled up against his waist and the side of his neck.

"……"

Mikhail slid his eyes toward the fur balls and spoke in a voice still thick with sleep.

"Hey, you two. I can't move."

The little bundles had been rising and falling with soft, dozing breaths—but they flinched awake in an instant, let out a string of tiny snorts, and scrambled upright.

"Snff."

Han and Ul shook themselves off, stretched with lazy arches, then padded to the side and peered up at Mikhail's face.

Two pairs of eyes sparkling like glass marbles catching the sun.

Mikhail held their gaze in silence for a moment, then sat up and flashed a teasing grin.

"So? Were you watching what I did out there? Pretty impressive, wasn't it?"

"Yip!"

The two pounced before the question was even finished. They scrambled onto his shoulders and shoved their noses into his cheeks, his neck, every spot they could reach—puffing little gusts of breath as they went. As if to say: forget the bragging, let us check you over first.

"Snff. Snff-snff…."

But this was a diagnostic method Mikhail found both unfamiliar and flustering. He squirmed away from the cold nose tips pressing against him, twisting this way and that—until he finally dissolved into helpless laughter, waving his hands in every direction.

"No, it's—pfft. Things went a little sideways, so yeah, I pushed it too hard, but I'm fi—ah, stop! That actually tickles!"

His desperate plea did absolutely nothing. Han and Ul dodged his flailing hands with casual ease, sniffed to their hearts' content, and only then deigned to step back.

"Hnngh… ngh."

Mikhail curled into a ball, wheezing with residual giggles, then flopped back onto the bed as if all the strength had drained out of him.

"…Haah."

The sunlight spilling across his face carried a drowsy warmth. Mikhail blinked vacantly into the light like a persimmon left hanging under an autumn sky, then turned his head toward Han and Ul as they padded close and licked his cheek.

"……"

Two tails swaying gently from side to side. Mikhail watched the downy fur flutter like little pinwheels, and smiled.

"That means I did a good job, right? Thanks."

"Yap!"

Han and Ul answered with a bright, wholehearted bark. Mikhail stroked their heads, then sat up from the bed and swung his arms in wide circles.

No problems here.

His body seemed more or less recovered. If that was the case, it was time to check what needed checking and go see who needed seeing.

All right. Let me start with what's closest.

Mikhail surveyed the spacious room, then walked over to the wardrobe set against the right wall and pulled the handle.

The door swung open with a click of its hinges. The scent of cedar wafted out from the neatly lined interior.

Creak.

Inside hung the uniform he'd worn during the campaign. His staff was resting at the bottom.

Clatter.

Mikhail reached into the uniform's pocket and retrieved the object inside. Hard and smooth, with a faint current of mana flowing through it—the skill stone he'd earned as a reward for defeating the basilisk.

I already know what kind of skill is stored in this.

A spell he hadn't been able to use when he'd fought Verte.

〔Magic: Expansion〕

〔A skill that increases the number of spells the user can manifest simultaneously. Mana consumption increases significantly as the number of manifested spells rises.〕

Mikhail was reviewing the spell's effects and tracing the formula inscribed on the stone's surface when it happened.

Flash!

〔Notice: Due to the influence of [Stat: Intelligence], structural comprehension of the magic formula has been completed.〕

〔Notice: Skill [Magic: Expansion] has been acquired.〕

The message confirmed the acquisition, exactly as expected.

Might as well finish the activation while I'm at it.

Mikhail pulled his gaze from the floating text, looked over at Han and Ul bouncing and tumbling across the bed, and spoke.

"Hey, you two. Stay away from me for a second."

"Yap!"

Mikhail heard the chirp of acknowledgment, closed his eyes, and stretched his hand forward. He gathered his mana and called to mind the formula he'd just comprehended.

〔Notice: Activation of [Magic: Expansion] will now begin.〕

The golden message flashed once beneath the darkness of his closed eyelids, and in the same instant the scenery transformed entirely.

Whoooosh—

The ground beneath his feet was an endless snowfield.

Bitter wind cut across it at a slant, and the sheer, featureless expanse made it impossible to tell which direction to go.

"……"

Mikhail stared out across the white horizon, then lifted his gaze upward.

A night sky as dark and unbroken as the snowfield below.

But unlike any real sky, not a single celestial body hung in that void—nothing to mark position or direction.

Mikhail gazed into the empty zenith, blinked a couple of times, then tilted his head to one side.

The key to this activation… is restoring what's been lost.

Clatter.

The moment the thought crystallized, a staff materialized in his empty hand. Mikhail glanced at it once, gripped the long shaft with both hands, and raised it high above his head.

Whoooooosh—!

The howling wind grew fiercer still. It stung every inch of exposed skin and froze his fingertips numb.

But Mikhail didn't let the thread of thought break.

The constellations that belonged fixed in the highest sky. The shapes of the celestial bodies. The magic formula needed to manifest them all at once—

"Hoo."

He exhaled a great plume of white breath, and with it, summoned everything together.

FZZT!

A sharp crack of ignition, and translucent ice crystals bloomed around the staff.

Crystals arranged in a pattern resembling the Big Dipper of the world he'd left behind.

They flared with light, blazing bright—then carved perfect copies of themselves into the night sky high above.

Whoooosh—

The howling wind died down, and the snowfield and sky before him dissolved into the white glow radiating from the newborn stars, fading from sight.

〔Notice: Activation of [Magic: Expansion] has been completed.〕

The shimmering golden message drifted through the empty haze and guided Mikhail's consciousness back to reality.

He opened his eyes and looked ahead. The room around him was the same as before.

Warm sunlight heating the air, the rustle of bedsheets, the wardrobe he'd just opened and the desk beside it—

Fzzt.

The only difference was the five ice crystals arranged in a cross formation around his outstretched hand.

"Yap! Yap-yap!"

Han and Ul barked in alarm. Mikhail dispersed the crystals and turned toward them, smiling as if to say it's fine.

"Snff."

Only then did the two stop barking. They scurried over and settled onto Mikhail's shoulders. He looked back and forth between them, then spoke with a deliberately mischievous edge.

"Scared you? Our little ones are more timid than I thought."

"Grrrrr."

Han and Ul growled as if issuing a warning, then clamped their teeth onto strands of his hair and tugged with slow, deliberate pulls. Mikhail snickered again and retaliated by poking their cheeks, then let his eyes drift toward the desk.

Roll….

A single pen resting on the walnut surface was tilting to one side.

Mikhail watched it for a moment, then noticed the white paper and envelope sitting in the corner of the desk. His eyes rolled thoughtfully as a idea took shape.

Come to think of it… the person closest to me right now, the one I should see first.

Mikhail got up, pulled out the chair in front of the desk, and sat down. He picked up the pen, drew a sheet of paper toward him, and spread it flat.

Scratch.

The pen tip moved without hesitation, gliding across the blank page like a swimmer through water, leaving black words in its wake.

Clatter.

It didn't take long. Mikhail finished writing, set the pen down, and checked the contents and the recipient's name one final time before rising from his seat and heading for the door.

[To: Verte Fischer]

The person about to receive this message was, by any measure, not someone he could call a good connection.

Even so… there were things he absolutely needed to say.

---

Inside one of the Guild Headquarters' medical wards—a room set aside for patients requiring specialized treatment.

"……"

Verte stared out the window with a blank expression, then turned his head toward the presence stirring beside him.

Noen had picked up water and pills from the nearby table and settled into the chair at his side.

"Here. Seven total. You need to take all of them."

"Okay."

Verte swallowed the pills without protest, following Noen's instructions.

By the time all seven were gone, the full glass of water had been drained dry.

Verte set the glass down and gazed at his own fingertips resting on his knees.

"……"

Every finger was wrapped tight in bandages.

Even so, the blackened skin underneath refused to stay hidden.

Verte blinked slowly and thought. The healer had said the damage ran too deep—that his mana network would never return to what it had been.

"…You'll heal."

Noen's voice cut into his thoughts without warning. Verte pulled his eyes from his hands, turned to look at Noen, studied him for a quiet moment, then smiled faintly.

"Maybe."

The answer was colorless—stripped of any emotion.

At the sound of Verte's voice, fragile as sleet about to crumble apart, Noen managed a bitter smile and lowered his eyes.

A heavy silence settled between them.

"—Huh? Hey, wait! No! What are you doing here—!"

A commotion erupted outside. Verte and Noen flinched and turned toward the door.

"…What's going on?"

"Honestly, those reckless idiots. I told them to keep it down near the patients…."

Noen's face twisted with irritation as he pressed his fingers to his forehead. He stood, clearly intending to go remind the noisy group to behave themselves.

Creak—

But a step ahead of him, the door to the room swung open.