Chapter 173

"Senit… did you say Senit? Hold on. Where have I heard that name—why does it sound so familiar…."

Sally tilted his head with the expression of someone doubting his own ears, hand still clasped, and stared hard at Mikhail.

"That, uh, Senit. As far as I know, that's the name of the great mage lord up north…."

Mikhail smiled faintly in place of answering. At that, Sally blinked as if turning over what had just happened, then went pale and sprang up where he stood.

"S-so that incredible magic from before! That was it!"

"……"

"Oh no! Y-young master! A no-good lout like me's been awfully rude to a person of quality! Please, forgive—"

"Don't, Mr. Sally."

Mikhail shook his head and slowly released the handshake. The tone of his next words settled lower.

"From the moment we met, the one telling lies was me. So if anyone should be apologizing, it's me. For deceiving you all this time…."

"─No, no, no! No! Please don't!"

Sally cut him off with a wave of his hand. Then he looked over the people sprawled on the ground and let his shoulders relax, his face plainly relieved.

"It's thanks to you, young master, that we're standing here unharmed. None of us came to any real grief among those magical beasts, did we."

Sally glanced at the club lying on the ground.

He stared at his faintly trembling palm, then curled and uncurled his fingers and gave them a wave to show they still worked fine.

A good-natured smile spread across Sally's face. Mikhail looked back at him and smiled as well.

"Ugh…."

That was when it happened. Low moans began to leak from the people on the ground. The sound of hoofbeats pounding the dirt was growing sharper too.

"Ah."

Mikhail looked around with a flash of urgency, then grabbed Sally's sleeve the way a drowning man grabs a rope.

He'd wanted to wrap this up quietly. But if his identity got out now, a tedious commotion would follow.

The instant Sally caught his eye, he leaned down.

"Mr. Sally. I have a favor to ask. I really can't be seen by anyone else right now…."

"Of course. I'll help."

Sally answered cheerfully, pulled off the vest he was wearing, and tugged it down firmly over Mikhail's head.

Then he stepped back to check the look from a few angles, pulled the fabric up so only Mikhail's mouth showed, and said confidently.

"Just stay still like that. The rest of it, I'll talk our way through."

---

A short interval passed after that. The people who'd been lying on the ground began coming to, one after another.

They clutched their heads and pushed themselves upright, looking around with bewildered expressions.

"What—what is this? I was definitely fighting a magical beast just now…. Why is everyone face-down on the ground?"

"Feels like something's clouding up my head. It's awful. And anyway, where did all the magical beasts go?"

While they were trading puzzled glances, the patrol came riding into view down the road, kicking up dust.

"O-over there—they're here! The patrol's here!"

Color came back to every face. The patrol soon pulled up at the head of the line and asked.

"Is everyone all right? The magical beasts? Anyone hurt?"

At the patrolman's shout, about seven hands went up, but every one of them was a light injury.

The toppled cargo and the broken, gouged wagons were quickly set right with the new arrivals' help.

"If we're done here, let's move out. Best to be off the mountain road before the sun sets. I've noted the traces worth following—we can do a proper investigation after."

No one objected to the patrol's suggestion. The line formed up again and started moving.

Clatter. Clatter.

The wagons began making their way down the dirt road toward the nearest city.

"……"

Mikhail sat alone at the back of the wagon, the coat Sally had given him pulled down over his face.

His unblinking eyes were fixed on the dusk settling in dark across the land.

"No, something's off, I'm telling you. He feels different. Move out of the way for a sec. Let me see his face one more time…."

"Hey! Did you not hear me? He was helping me earlier and got hurt, scared the hell out of me! Look, his lip's all split open over there!"

"W-well, sure, that's true, but…."

"So leave him alone for now. He needs rest… no, calm! He needs to rest and stay calm, all right?"

From the sound of it, one of the laborers kept trying to get a look at Mikhail's face, but Sally—true to what he'd promised—was letting no one near.

To think that cut from the orange-haired one would come in handy like this.

Mikhail let out an amused little sound through his nose. He glanced sidelong at the noisy scene behind him, smirked, then turned his eyes back to the road.

…Scratch.

What rose in his mind was the scene right after the dark purple mana had been injected into his body.

The sensation that had vividly engulfed his whole frame. The feeling of something breaking, falling away, eating into every bit of his consciousness and nerves.

But that wasn't the only thing that stood out.

[…The form of [Origin Mana: Abyss] changes from [{Bonding}(#csrvek1vxabx)] to [Restoration].]

The newly appeared dark blue message. And the whale's cry that had spoken to him. Every one of those scenes was clear, too….

"…Hey, can you hear me?"

Mikhail moved his lips, addressing the empty air. But no answering whale call came.

Mikhail glanced at the hollow silence, breathed out softly, and lowered his eyes.

His gaze stopped at his left hand. The point where the mana in his body gathered and discharged most easily.

Mikhail narrowed his eyes and called to mind the words that had announced each change in his mana.

The first time it was [Bonding], and this time [Restoration].

[Bonding] and [Restoration]. Words signaling his condition, but the truth was, he couldn't read a clear, intuitive change in either of them.

Still, having gone through two of these transitions now, there were effects he could tentatively guess at.

Each time the state changed, the mana represented as seawater was multiplying. And he was hearing the whale's cry from closer than before. This time even….

It spoke to me. Just for a brief moment.

Wooooo─. Whoooo─.

For an instant, a whistling sound echoed at his ear like a phantom.

The voice from beneath the sea, spreading out in rings like bubbles, carrying meaning of a kind through the pitch and rhythm woven into it.

Mikhail dropped his head, dwelling on the cry that had lingered in his ear, then lifted his eyes again.

It seems… I'll need to add one more thing to my goals going forward.

Mikhail looked back in silence. He reconsidered, once more, the resolutions he'd taken on through the journey so far.

The second main storyline. The goals that had settled firmly in his chest through everything up to the suppression campaign.

First.

What he'd resolved as a member of the main storyline.

He hoped to reach a happy ending with everyone alongside him.

Second.

What he meant to achieve as the heir of the North.

He hoped that the Senit line, which had vanished by the end of the story, would be preserved intact.

And last.

The third one he'd be adding now.

What I want as Mikhail Senit. I want to know what this power inside me actually is.

The pulse at his fingertips beat a little stronger, as though answering his resolve. Mikhail curled his fingers tight and lifted his head again.

The mana flowing leisurely through his body. It was a power even he—who prided himself on knowing this world better than anyone—couldn't trace back to any source or known relation.

To track down its identity, he'd need information.

Not necessarily the exact same thing—anything that bore some kind of connection would do….

Whoooo─.

The current carrying the early evening rippled. Mikhail faced the wind rolling in like waves, closed his eyes, and thought.

Materials on magic and mana…. I know the place where the largest collection of those is kept.

The Northern Library.

The ink-dark ceiling and walls stretched out impossibly wide, and the blue mana lights drifted through the air like fireflies, lighting the space.

Dozens, no—hundreds of ebony bookshelves stood in rank after rank, forming what looked like a forest….

"……"

Mikhail recalled the interior with its countless records, then sighed and shook his head. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't simply head north right now.

The scenes he'd come face to face with on this trip. They'd shown him that the scale of the anomaly and the strength of the main storyline's prime enemies were growing.

[The crystal eating away at the fang rabbit is bigger than expected. Which means.]

The size of the gold crystals—far larger than in the original work.

[Two stages ahead of the original progression?]

The mana stone with the embedded formula that the Black Ark had been carrying.

Mikhail turned over the evidence of these threats he'd caught, then slowly opened his lowered eyelids.

So first of all.

What came first was pulling up his own underlying strength.

Standoffs against powerful enemies, fights that broke out again and again—he couldn't dodge any of them. He had to meet them head-on.

If he kept at it, a window to head north would come around too….

That said, I'm not about to let go of chasing down information about the mana entirely.

Mikhail let out a low breath. He tapped his knee with his fingertips, weighing the situation, then lifted his head toward the receding foothills and thought.

Let me ask Father. Whether he can at least send me a few books.

---

Meanwhile, at that same hour.

"M-magical beasts! Magical beasts have appeared! Th-this time they smashed right through the fence! Everyone run─!"

Ethan was standing in a village in the kingdom's southeast.

Behind Ethan, civilians were fleeing in panic. In front of him, the sharp scream of a squad member being dragged off by a massive segmented creature pierced the air.

"H-hiiii! H-help me! Heeeelp─!"

The terrified voice kept rising along with shards of gold. Ethan broke into a run to give chase and shouted back at the squad members behind him.

"I'll pursue! Get the villagers to safety first!"

A loud answer of acknowledgment echoed back. Ethan plunged into the woods after the magical beast, which was tearing through the ground while dragging the squad member by the ankle.

Rustle.

Dry leaves brushed against his stepping feet. Ethan stared at the writhing body slipping between the trees, then narrowed his eyes and tightened his grip on his sword.

Crunch. Crunch.

The thing was crushing the underbrush beneath its heavy body, heading toward the swamp at the heart of the forest.

A place that hampered the movements of anyone who set foot in it, where prey was suffocated.

He couldn't let the magical beast reach the swamp.

First, I have to block its movement.

Ethan pulled a scroll he'd been issued from inside his coat and bit down on it.

A scroll inscribed with a formula that temporarily amplified mobility.

What came back to him then was his commanding officer's voice, delivering its warnings.

[…The moment you use the scroll, your mobility will spike to roughly five times what it was. By the same token, controlling your direction becomes extremely difficult.]

His commander had taken a short breath and continued.

[So avoid using it in places with a lot of terrain features… for instance, the woods. Even a single jutting branch becomes a blade threatening your safety.]

Doesn't matter.

Ethan muttered to himself and yanked the scroll, tearing it. The instant the formula on the ground flared bright, a sharp whistling sound rose at his ears.

A single stride carried him many times the distance it had a moment before.

Whoosh─.

Ethan brushed past the trees at high speed. Just as his commander had said, every time he pushed forward, branches sharpened like needles slashed at his cheeks and the back of his neck.

Slash.

Some cut a finger's joint deep. Others, two joints.

But Ethan pressed on without hesitation. The wounds carved into him were closing in the time it took to blink.