Yuder concealed his thoughts and rose to his feet.

“Then, since you’ll need to be up early for training tomorrow, you should return to your room.”

“Understood.”

Melvern stood up as well. Just before he walked away, Yuder added a word.

“Sir Melvern. No matter how troubled you are, this is the only time I’ll overlook you harming yourself through training that’s neither here nor there.”

Melvern flinched, as if he felt the sincerity hidden behind the offhand remark. Yuder met his gaze, his eyes piercing.

“Well, you won’t have reason to think like that anymore starting tomorrow.”

It had been Yuder who had first offered to take full responsibility for training Melvern on behalf of Ezein. He had no intention of letting that promise and responsibility end in failure.

Melvern disappeared, looking faintly spooked.

Yuder finally made his way to his last stop of the day: the Medical Unit, where Inon would be.

Tonight, Inon was seated where Lusan usually sat.

“What’s up at this hour? If you’re looking for the brat, he’s off at prayer.”

Yuder glanced at the cup in front of him. A familiar color and aroma wafted from it. Inon was drinking the tea powder Yuder had given him before.

He already knew Inon liked it, but seeing it in person made his chest tingle for some reason. Yuder pulled out the sack he’d been carrying all this way and placed it on the desk. With a solid thump, Inon raised his brow.

“…What’s this?”

“Check it.”

Inon opened the sack. Inside were five bottles that had been set aside specifically for him. While the bottles given to others were small enough to hold in one hand, these were the same design but much larger.

After confirming the contents, Inon looked back at Yuder and asked:

“This is… the same stuff I’m drinking right now?”

“Yeah. I made it again today.”

He’d prepared a separate bottle to give to Lusan. Yuder took that one out as well and set it nearby. The bottle for Lusan was similar in size to Inon’s.

“Give this one to the priest. And… tell him that if he wants more, I can give him more.”

The Medical Unit had to meet with all sorts of patients daily. There would be plenty of chances to share tea, so they might need extra.

“Oh. So this isn’t all you made?”

“…Since I was making it, I just made a lot.”

When Yuder mentioned he’d given some to others as well, Inon was silent for a moment. Just as Yuder was about to wonder why, Inon reached out and roughly tousled his hair.

“Well done. I take back what I said about you being hopeless at giving gifts. You’ve grown up.”

“…What are you talking about?”

Yuder was already an adult. If you counted his memories, he’d been over thirty for quite a while.

Inon didn’t answer—he just laughed heartily. As the Guardian of Luma, he was usually either indifferent or stressed out, so seeing him smile this widely was truly rare.

“If you gave bottles this size to the others, you must’ve made a huge batch. Where’d you get the bottles? Must’ve cost quite a bit.”

Yuder explained everything: where he bought the materials and bottles, how he made it. Inon was delighted to hear that he’d gotten the largest share.

“Really? I got more than anyone else? More than that Commander punk?”

He looked even happier than when Yuder had first gifted him the tea, filling Yuder with a satisfaction close to what he felt after finishing a big mission.

‘Ah… and I still have to give him this.’

As Inon arranged the tea bottles proudly on his desk, Yuder held something out to him.

“Inon. Here.”

“Huh?”

“The magic item of the Blind Sage we talked about. The Voice of Dreams.”

“Ah… that thing you mentioned back then? This is it?”

Inon’s first reaction was similar to Yuder’s own when he’d first seen it.

“The outside’s… pretty unique. Looks like someone just grabbed a random thing that caught their eye while walking by.”

“Mages haven’t figured out a thing about it yet. When I looked at it with farsight, I thought I saw a crack… but that’s all.”

“A crack?”

“Here, like this.”

Yuder pointed to the spot where he’d seen the crack.

Inon hummed as he ran his fingers across the same area. The same hand that the Great Mage Luma had once mended and reattached. A strange light flickered in his bright yellow eyes.

“…Yeah. The structure’s definitely not very stable. It looks like someone etched a magic formula—maybe a magic circle—into it with mana… but… hm. Most of it’s been erased.”

“You mean it’s broken?”

“Yeah. Honestly, it’s a miracle it’s still physically intact. That crack you saw was probably a remnant of a wiped-out magic formula.”

That alone would’ve made generations of mages who’d studied The Voice of Dreams faint from shock.

“So we can’t even tell whether the Blind Sage was really Luma.”

That was the biggest reason Inon had wanted to inspect it. He sighed.

“Yeah. It’s too badly damaged to determine that from this alone.”

Thankfully, he didn’t seem too disappointed.

“There was someone who once unknowingly used this thing to heal their body. So maybe the damage and the crack happened then.”

“Yeah, that’s very possible.”

Inon nodded.

“Maybe it was meant to be a one-time-use item. Or something experimental. I mean, choosing a shell over solid metal… it doesn’t feel like something meant to last. Makes you wonder why they’d use a material like this… wait.”

Inon trailed off as he looked at the shell again.

“What is it?”

“Come to think of it—who gave it the name The Voice of Dreams?”

Yuder shook his head.

“I think that was its original name.”

“…If that name wasn’t given later but by the original creator, then maybe the shell was chosen for a reason.”

“What?”

Inon lifted the shell to his ear.

“You know the saying that if you hold a shell to your ear, you can hear the sound of the sea?”

“Never heard of it.”

“Didn’t you see kids doing that when you were down south?”

“…I was working.”

Inon clicked his tongue.

“Anyway, it’s a well-known thing. Shell flutes are also common in coastal regions—they say they capture the sound of the sea.”

“So?”

“That means the shell is a material symbolic of sound. In old magic, materials that had strong symbolic associations like that were considered ideal catalysts.”

Names carry meaning. A magic item said to heal people being named after sound, not healing—it was suspicious.

Inon summed up the unease in one sentence.

“It probably wasn’t a healing tool in the first place. More likely, it was something that did various things using sound.”

“So it happened to heal someone just because the conditions were right?”

“That’d be my guess.”

If true, this was a staggering magical artifact—far beyond what words like amazing could express.

Most magic tools were designed to cast just one spell.

“…Definitely not something an average mage could make.”

“Exactly.”

Inon’s eyes grew serious.

“But Luma specialized in that kind of magic. Making things that connected various possibilities, with broad applications.”

“Then…”

Could the Blind Sage really have been Luma?

The same thought crossed both of their minds as they met eyes. Inon set the shell down and declared:

“This thing needs to be restored.”

“How?”

Hadn’t he just said it was broken beyond use? Yuder blinked in surprise, but Inon chuckled.

“Looking for someone without knowing what they look like is different from searching when you do know. If my guess is right, I can fix it. It'll take time, but hey—I’m Luma’s Guardian. You’ve done your part, so now it’s my turn to put in some work.”

The miracle brought about by five bottles of tea powder was astonishing.

“If we restore it, we can confirm whether Luma made it or not. I’ll do what I can.”

“They say there are other artifacts supposedly made by the Blind Sage still left in Nellarun.”

“Yeah? But who knows if those are real. This one… at least looks like something only a mage of Luma’s level could have made.”

He had a point.

“Got it. I’ll support whatever you need.”

“I’ll talk ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) to that Commander bastard myself.”

Thus, the Voice of Dreams matter was temporarily settled.

“Is that everything you wanted to tell me tonight? Because I’d like to start figuring out how to fix this.”

Yuder looked at Inon, who was already brimming with enthusiasm, then reluctantly opened his mouth.

“…There’s one more thing.”

“What is it?”

“My grandfather.”

“Your grandfather? The one with the ledger? Did you find something?”

“No. Not that yet…”

He still hadn’t figured out how to interpret the ledger Kishiar had asked about. But this was an even more serious matter.

“…I had Kanna read one of my grandfather’s keepsakes. It’s now almost certain… that he was someone who experienced the Blessing of the Great Mage.”

Inon’s previously relaxed expression instantly turned hard.