Episode 129

Shiron counted the gleaming eyes in the darkness. Without needing to expand his senses, the number of opponents was too many to count on one hand.

A one-versus-many standoff.

It would have been fine if that was all, but Shiron also had a target to protect.

Clearly, this was a disadvantageous situation for Shiron, yet he didn’t lose his composure. He leisurely drew his sword, and even in positioning himself between Victor and the assassins, he was slow.

If it were Lucia, she would have razed the building in an instant, but Shiron couldn’t do that. However, he also had no intention of leaving his escort target to die without doing anything.

‘The best I can do.’

That was to take the most appropriate action at the right time.

The moment he organized his thoughts,

beyond there, the gleaming eyes in the darkness started to converge. Flickering green flames. A sticky wave swept through the building once.

A premonition of something imminent.

‘What’s that?’

The moment he wondered this, he raised his hand and pulled out a shield.

Kwaaaa–

The green flames filled the corridor, rushing towards him. A flame emitting a blinding light, but the wave that seemed to burn everything was blocked by his outstretched arm.

[Hesed’s Shield]

It could block most long-range attacks and had overwhelming performance, but it had the downside of consuming the user’s mana arbitrarily, without their will.

But, this didn’t matter much to Shiron. Mana was never something he could use at will, and the unused mana would just remain.

Victor witnessed this scene right before his eyes. The guards specially trained by His Majesty were taken down without a chance to react.

‘…Assassin?’

Was it because he faced a life-threatening crisis? Victor felt a heavy stone on his chest, making it hard to breathe, and the intense heat made breathing difficult.

However, even in such a situation, Victor did not forget his goal.

‘Survive and become the emperor.’

To do that, Victor held his breath and crouched. He had a clear expectation that Shiron, who was still comfortably countering the attacks, would have some plan.

So, he concluded that the best thing to do, as always, was to follow Shiron’s instructions.

“Why aren’t they coming in?”

Muttering softly, Shiron took out a small bottle from his pocket and tossed it back.

[Failed Product that Almost Became an Invisibility Potion]

“Hey.”

“…Yeah.”

“Drink that and stay still. If you move rashly, you’ll die.”

“Got it.”

Victor’s response was immediate. As expected, Shiron had a plan. He swallowed the contents of the potion without even asking what its effects were.

1 second, 2 seconds… Without taking his eyes off the flames, Shiron counted.

As time passed, the faint presence behind him grew dimmer. He didn’t look back. There was nothing to see even if he did.

‘…Done.’

Feeling the ‘illusion’ of the escort target disappearing, Shiron dispelled the flames.

Shiron’s surroundings were tainted with a peculiar energy.

The flames didn’t reach Shiron, but the areas where the flames touched were blackened. However, this wasn’t due to being charred by heat.

A peculiar energy.

The space was rotting away. An acrid, cursed aura prickled up from all around.

Chik-

Shiron stepped forward. Chiiik- His shoe covered in soot screamed. Shiron glared ahead, overlaying holy power on his foot.

‘I never thought…’

Green flames, the breath of a curse that blackens the surroundings. A cursed tool that causes decay on contact. Shiron felt a chill in his mind.

“Why do you guys have that?”

A treasure slumbering in the underground of the Imperial Palace. The relic of the Main Martial King.

It was an object that shouldn’t have been in the hands of mere assassins.

“…”

The assassins didn’t answer the question. Whether they were preparing for the next attack or were flustered by their secret technique being thwarted, they couldn’t hide their wariness towards this side.

It couldn’t be helped.

Shiron wasn’t holding a shield in his hand right now. So, in their eyes, Shiron must have seemed like a monster who blocked a barrage with his bare hands.

With that conviction, Shiron took a step, another step, and reached out with his foot.

Meanwhile, Siriel rose from a mound of mana-rich sand. Beads of sweat dotted her skin, not due to the sweltering nights at the end of summer, but from the rapid exhaustion of mana in her danjeon.

“You did well.”

While she wrapped her head to regain her senses, Siriel heard a warm voice.

Seira Romer. She had become Siriel’s magic teacher and training assistant after her coming-of-age ceremony.

“How was it this time?”

“Um. It’s gradually getting better, but it’s hard to explain in words.”

Seira chuckled and handed a towel to Siriel.

The girl, wiping off her sweat, didn’t hide her sullen feelings.

Should I have explained it with clear numbers and standards? That thought crossed her mind briefly, but Seira was not Yura.

So it was natural that she couldn’t provide easy-to-understand numbers about strength.

“Don’t be too anxious, you’re doing well.”

So Seira spoke in her own way.

Speak brightly and energetically.

“You know? The more you hurry, the harder it gets for you. Mental strength is like a well; it quickly dries up just by feeling emotions and thinking. So it’s better to relax your mind. It’s even better if you don’t think about anything.”

“…Really?”

“Yeah. And reaching a state of enlightenment is like climbing a mountain. Suddenly you look around and realize you’ve climbed this high…! That’s how it is.”

With a tired body but a relaxed mind.

With those words, Seira beat her chest and smiled broadly.

However, no matter how much it was advice from a great mage who helped seal the demon, Siriel found it hard to take Seira’s words at face value.

Since she started seeing the future, Siriel felt anxious every time she dreamed.

Seeing her brother die in various ways in her dreams every night, it was natural for Siriel to find it hard to shake off her anxiety.

That wasn’t the only thing. Siriel’s goal was to become stronger than Lucia, who was also still gaining strength.

“…”

A silence fell between the two for a moment.

A maid dressed as an elf flopped down in front of Siriel.

“But you know.”

Siriel, with a towel soaked in sweat on her shoulder, turned her gaze to the great mage.

“Can I ask you something?”

“…What would you like to ask?”

“I can’t stand not knowing things.”

Seira shuffled closer to Siriel with a bounce.

“What exactly is the level you’re aiming for?”

“…”

“Ah, don’t get stiff. I’m asking because if you tell me, I might be able to find a more efficient way to help you.”

“I don’t know…”

Siriel turned her head away.

‘I want to become stronger than Lucia. To become someone special to my brother.’

The reason for wanting to become stronger was simple, but not easy to express. Because the moment she said it, there was a chance Siriel would appear to be consumed by jealousy and inferiority.

Siriel had seen Seira in the future and had become a precious second person to the Forgotten Magician, but she wasn’t yet close enough to share such deep-seated thoughts.

So, Siriel decided to speak in a roundabout way.

“I want to protect my brother.”

“…Oh my.”

Seira covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes widening.

‘A love story?’

Seira looked at Siriel intently, wide-eyed.

Her face slightly flushed like white jade, fingers fidgeting, unable to stay still!

Feeling the freshness of young love, Seira leaned even further forward.

“Last time, Seira, you said my brother would remember you.”

“That’s right.”

“And you said he’s the current great hero.”

“Yes, yes.”

Seira nodded her head, her heart fluttering with the tingling sensation of listening to the love troubles of youthful passion.

“But honestly, my brother doesn’t look like a hero at all.”

“Hmm?”

But the words that followed seemed unrelated to matters of the heart.

Siriel continued, oblivious to Seira’s reaction.

“At the last coming-of-age ceremony, I watched my brother fight. His opponent was strong, but clearly two levels below not only Lucia but also me.”

“Uh…”

“Moreover, my brother can’t use mana. He can’t use protective energy or mana, so how can he fulfill the duties of a hero? That’s absurd. You were a companion of the previous hero, Kyrie, so you should understand, right?”

“…Right?”

Suddenly, Seira noticed a spark in Siriel’s eyes. She flinched at the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

However, this slight reaction did not deter Siriel. The silver-haired girl continued, gaining momentum as she spoke.

“Kyrie’s sword aura was so massive and powerful it could intimidate gods and devils, correct?”

“It was indeed impressive.”

“But my brother can only wield a holy sword at best. How is he supposed to handle the hero’s responsibilities? I don’t mean to undermine my brother, nor do I wish to arrogantly obstruct his path… but isn’t it natural to desire the strength to easily remove any threats before they can harm him?”

“…”

“And in the future, my brother will be involved with many women.”

There were already numerous rivals currently, but in her dreams, she saw many unfamiliar women. Hence, her prophetic ability filled the young girl with anxiety.

Siriel reflected on the future she had seen in her dreams.

“Excluding Victor, the women around him were all exceptionally strong. Whether their relationships are friendly or hostile, it’s difficult to say, but I want to be the best among them. I want to be the only one my brother notices.”

“It’s good to have high aspirations.”

Seira wiped the cold sweat from her cheek.

It felt as though she had peered into an abyss she shouldn’t have. She had a hunch from the beginning, but the depth and weight of the feelings Siriel harbored for Shiron were indescribably profound.

Then, the spark turned towards Seira.

“Including you.”

“…Me?”

Seira pointed at herself with a finger.

Siriel narrowed her eyes and nodded.