Chapter 81

BOOM!

The dark blue mana sphere slammed into the lungfish's lower jaw.

Its head snapped sideways, the long body lurching as it plunged beneath the surface. Waves surged against the boat hard enough to flip it, and a violent spray of water soaked their clothes.

Mikhail shouted toward Cashion in the front.

"Now! Let's get out of here!"

"On it!"

Cashion seized the oar and drove the boat forward. Bolstered by the mana coursing through the oar and Cashion's raw arm strength, the boat sliced through the water like an arrow.

Krrrrrr….

The bow had just kissed the shore when a deep rumble from behind made both of them turn.

The lungfish was thrashing wildly before sinking toward the lake's depths and vanishing from sight. The churning surface gradually settled back to stillness.

"……"

Mikhail stared at the quieted lake, let out a low breath, and looked down at his hands.

The aftermath of dumping all that mana in one burst. His vision blurred for a moment as he watched his fingertips tremble.

"—Hey, are you alright?"

It was Cashion who caught him as he swayed.

Mikhail managed a faint smile at the old man gripping both his arms, worry etched across his face.

"I'm fine. Just a bit of dizziness."

"You burned through too much mana, didn't you?"

Mikhail regarded Cashion—who'd read the situation without missing a beat—then gave a willing nod.

"Yes. Just as you said."

Cashion clicked his tongue and turned his gaze toward the lakeshore.

"Well, it was powerful enough to send a house-sized beast packing in one shot. Must've taken a fair bit out of you."

Without another word, Cashion scooped Mikhail up and lifted him clean off the ground.

Before Mikhail could even process the sudden shift in altitude, Cashion had already set him down against a nearby tree.

"Lean back and rest."

Once he'd confirmed Mikhail was properly settled, Cashion dug through his jacket pocket and held out a stamina potion.

"Drink. It's a stopgap at best, but it'll help you get back on your feet for now."

Mikhail dipped his head in thanks and drank the potion without protest.

Warmth began trickling back into his limp body, and color returned to his white-tipped fingers.

"……"

Meanwhile, Cashion dragged the boat from the water's edge. He tied it firmly to a tree on the right side of the lake so the current wouldn't carry it off, then grabbed the toolbox from inside.

His eyes swept over Mikhail as he strode back.

"Glad to see you're looking a bit better…. Let me ask you one thing. How long do you plan on staying in this city?"

"I'll likely be here until the festival ends."

"Good."

Cashion's voice carried genuine satisfaction as he shifted his gaze to the fountain at the lake's center.

His expression turned serious the instant he fixed his eyes on it.

"I truly appreciate what you did today. I'd love to repay you right now, but something urgent's come up. I'll make it up to you after the festival."

Mikhail caught the thread of concern woven through Cashion's voice but said nothing more.

"Understood. I'll see you then, sir."

Cashion nodded, lingered on Mikhail's face one last time, then let the subject drop.

He adjusted the toolbox under his arm and headed toward the path leading back to the city.

"—I'd rather stay by your side until you're back on your feet, but things just got busy! Don't take it personally! Rest a while longer before you move! And remember—no pushing yourself for at least a full day!"

Mikhail watched Cashion's retreating figure in silence, the man's booming reminders echoing across the lakeshore.

Before long the voice dissolved into a shapeless echo and the faint silhouette disappeared beyond the path.

All that remained at the lakeside was quiet.

Mikhail let out a soft sigh and rummaged through his coat, pulling out three or four more fatigue recovery potions.

'A full day of rest, he says. He's right about that, but still.'

Mikhail grimaced as he knocked back the potions one after another.

A bitter taste flooded his mouth, chased by a sensation like he was borrowing energy from his future self.

He knew perfectly well that Cashion's advice to rest for a full day was sound.

But he also knew he couldn't afford to follow it. There was no time for that luxury.

'I have to finish training with Julien today. That's the only way I'll be in the right condition to get back on my feet when it counts.'

---

KRRR-RUMBLE!

A massive peal of thunder rattled the window.

Julien, seated at his desk, stopped writing and turned toward the glass.

'Don't tell me… more rain?'

He stood and walked to the window.

Dusk was settling in, and the breeze brushing his nose carried a cold, damp edge.

The city's festival was only two days away—he wished the rain would just stop already.

Knock knock.

The sound cut through the quiet room. Julien walked to the door and opened it.

Click.

"Hey."

Mikhail stood in the doorway. He offered a brief greeting before shoving something toward Julien without preamble.

"Huh?"

It was a neatly folded rain cloak.

When Julien looked up with a puzzled expression, Mikhail spoke in an even tone.

"Take it. We're going out to train."

Instead of answering right away, Julien studied Mikhail's face.

His complexion had never been particularly healthy, but today it was unusually pale, and a dry cough kept slipping out.

Julien watched for a moment, then ventured carefully.

"Mikhail. You don't look well. Wouldn't it be better to skip today and rest?"

"I know my own body. That won't be necessary."

Krrr-rumble. CRACK!

A heavy peal of thunder shook the glass, and thick sheets of rain began pouring down.

Julien glanced toward the window and tried again.

"See? It's pouring. If you push yourself in weather like this, you'll catch a cold. So let's just—"

"Harsh conditions are part of training."

The unruffled reply cut him short.

Julien's brow furrowed, his voice rising to a sharper pitch.

"What's gotten into you? Training can wait. What if you get worse out there? If it ends up affecting the mission—!"

"Julien."

Mikhail's voice was flat—arid, even.

Yet the cadence of each syllable carried a force that compelled motion.

"This is something we need to do."

Silence settled over them.

Julien said nothing.

Instead, he raised a hand and dragged it down his face, then stared at Mikhail for a long moment.

His expression soured. His fist clenched. A deep sigh escaped him.

And finally, he took the rain cloak from Mikhail's hand.

Patter. Pat-pat-pat.

Even as he pulled it on, the rain hammered the window harder than before.

Julien watched Mikhail head for the door, then closed the distance in two quick strides and grabbed his sleeve.

Mikhail stopped and slowly turned to meet his eyes.

Julien hesitated, then spoke.

"You're… really okay?"

Mikhail put on a smile. His voice was quiet but clear, cutting through the rain.

"Yeah. Perfectly fine."

Thirty minutes later.

The rain showed no sign of letting up over the wooded area on the city's outskirts.

Perhaps because the downpour kept lashing his face, Mikhail shook his head to clear his blurring vision and extended both hands forward.

The magic he would manifest this time was the earth-attribute natural element, imbued with the property of solidification.

Pzzt!

Mana flared to life beneath the driving rain.

Cloaked in its new property, the mana took the shape of a multifaceted crystal.

Mikhail glanced back at Julien, whose hand rested on his shoulder.

His eyelids were pressed firmly shut, and the mana pooling at his fingertips felt ready to burst free at any moment.

"Julien, begin."

Julien followed the instruction without objection. His fingertips dug in, and a faint energy rippled outward.

Mikhail faced forward and bit down on his lip. He accepted the inflowing mana with steady control.

But… the smooth flow didn't last.

Absorbing mana of a different quality and grain always carried a proportional toll.

The unfamiliar current pressed down hard on his exhausted body.

Mikhail doubled over with a hacking cough, staggering forward. His rigid posture buckled.

"Mikhail? Are you oka—!"

Julien flinched in alarm—but Mikhail's voice cracked through the rain like a whip.

"—Don't move! Keep going!"

Julien froze in place.

Mikhail straightened his hunched body and thrust his hands out again.

A blue crystal extending from his fingertips sharpened into focus, growing clearer by the second.

Rainwater pooled in the folds of his cloak and trickled down like beads of sweat.

"Julien, generate mana with the property of dispersion."

Julien exhaled slowly, then gave a deliberate nod.

He could feel it—in the pulse of Mikhail's mana, in the halting fragments of his voice—an iron will to see this through.

"Okay."

Julien tightened his grip on Mikhail's shoulder and visualized the properties of the wind element in his mind.

His mana, now carrying the nature of wind, began to spread outward in silence.

"Hah…."

Mikhail's breath dissolved into the sound of rain.

In that instant, a crack split across the mana crystal hovering above his outstretched hand.

CR-CRACK.

The sudden fracture made Julien gasp involuntarily behind him.

What's about to happen? The question barely formed in his startled mind before—

His heartbeat swelled like a drumroll, louder and louder.

The crystal before him erupted with blinding light and began to vibrate violently, deeper fissures carving across its surface.

Crack. Cra-crack.

Then, in one instant—

Just as the radiant crystal was about to shatter into pieces—

FLASH!

But the upheaval lasted only a heartbeat.

The brilliant light collapsed as quickly as it had flared, and all that remained was the deepening night sky and the sound of rain.

Julien was still blinking in a daze when—

"That's… it."

Mikhail murmured something whose meaning Julien couldn't quite grasp.

In the same breath, his body tilted sideways and crumpled.

"Mikhail!"

Julien lunged forward and caught him before he hit the ground.

Mikhail's gaze was unfocused, his parted lips drawing ragged, feverish breaths in and out.

And yet—for some reason—he was giggling to himself.

Julien took one look at that ashen face, raindrops streaming down it like cold sweat, and spat out his words.

"You said you were fine!"

"Ah… couldn't be helped."

Watching him answer so casually after all that was enough to leave Julien completely speechless.

He bit his lip, swallowed the urge to scold him further, and hoisted Mikhail onto his back.

Thirty minutes from here to the hotel on foot.

The rain would slow him down, but if he pushed the pace, he could shave off about five minutes.