“It’s about time you woke up,” Roa said, sorting through a pile of rusty old weapons. “Come over here and pick something up. It’ll be better for you to use one of these for now.”
Ariene Diadora had recovered from her muddled state, owing to the Luminous Crown she was forced to ingest. Immediately, she pushed up against the smooth rock she leaned on, and shaped her fingers into a vice. The next second, Roa found himself pinned flat on the ground with the inner walls of his cheeks pushing against his teeth.
“What did you make me eat!?” Ariene hissed. She sat atop his stomach while her forearm held his shoulders down.
“Ivv yfb pl—” Roa spoke like his mouth was filled with cotton, Ariene loosened her grip just the tiniest amount. Once he was able to properly move his jaw, Roa spoke with a straight face, “Ariene, if you’re planning on coming on to me, shouldn’t you treat me to a meal first?”
—Crack! Roa could’ve sworn that he’d heard his jawbone giving way. Fortunately, it wasn’t from his jaw that the sound had come from, but from a small rock within the grasp of Ariene’s other hand.
It seemed wise not to jest any further.
Roa smiled, “Looks like you’ve gotten some of your strength back? That mushroom wasn’t anything bad, trust me!”
“Hmm…” Staring at the crumbling rock in her hand, Ariene eased her tensed brow. Roa’s words were somewhat credible. She released her grip and as she was about to stand up while looking apologetic, someone lightly tapped on her back.
“Huh?” The chalk pygmy was behind Ariene, stomping its small hoof aggressively on the ground.
“Gah! You little runt!” Roa groaned. The chalk pygmy struck his thigh before climbing onto his chest and rummaging inside his shirt. When Roa recovered, he saw it take out a Luminous Crown from his inner pocket.
“How?! How’d you take that out!?” The mushroom was inside of the storage pouch, it baffled him how the chalk pygmy was able to retrieve it. Immediately, the peculiar-looking goat spun around without answering him, and handed the crown over to Ariene.
Ariene was at a loss. She received the crown but was puzzled by the chalk pygmy’s actions. It pointed at itself adamantly with its small hands while stomping on Roa’s chest.
“Argh!” Roa lurched. “Hurry up and pat its head or something! It was actually this little runt that fed you the mushroom!”
‘So it wanted to be thanked?’ Ariene thought. But ingesting the mushroom… Her mind had been clouded for a good while; had she been subjected to that idiotic dance that Roa performed earlier? Just the thought of it made her want to squeeze Roa’s face once more.
‘Hm…’ Ariene deliberated, ‘Since this perpetrator is so adorable, I guess I can let it pass.’ She ruffled the head of the chalk pygmy and took it into her arms.
Roa was finally liberated from his suffering. For the following minutes, he proceeded to explain a few things to Ariene—how the atmosphere seemed to affect a person based on the strength of their spirit; the benefits of Luminous Crowns; how they help one to recover and adapt.
He was careful not to expose too much information to avoid her suspicion. This would be considered the first appearance of Eruind’s roots as well as the first instance of the Spirit Domain; it wasn’t a good decision to divulge everything he knew.
“Pick a weapon from the ones I’ve laid out. If you’re able to use any of them without them crumbling, then take it with you. If not, then feel free to take any of the other trinkets lying around.”
Roa pointed to a set of rusty weapons and then to the ‘trinkets’ that were scattered around the cavern. Ariene wondered why it was that he urged her to first pick out a weapon from the pieces of trash he set out, but it felt like it didn’t matter much to her.
A while later, it was finally time to leave the bald man’s head.
The priority was to close up this instance of the Spirit Domain as fast as they could. The sooner they closed it, the less likely it was for the domain to incur any casualties. As for the other two that Roa presumed had wandered inside, if they found them, then they would go together, if not… they’d still be thrown back outside once the root was pulled out.
Roa exited the cavern with an unremarkable rusty old blade tied to his hip. Ariene came out after him, the chalk pygmy in her arms and a huge, undaunting rectangular object hanging off her back.
‘As expected,’ Roa thought. ‘None of them could withstand Ariene’s spirit. It’s no surprise that she ended up picking that giant ruler.’
All of the pieces that Roa had laid out crumbled at the touch of Ariene, they were incapable of standing up to her spirit. In the end, she had to pick a weapon from the ‘trinkets’ that were laying around. And of the ones present, there was one in particular that had managed to draw her to itself—an object that resembled an edgeless, jet-black greatsword.
‘Hah! It suits her! Though, she probably got it thinking how satisfying it would be to swing that heavy thing around,’ Roa smiled to himself. But soon as he thought that, he felt a burning glare at the nape of his neck.
Were his thoughts so transparent? He turned around to see the chalk pygmy whispering into Ariene’s long ears; it seemed the barrier between man and beast couldn’t hinder them from sharing a few of each other's thoughts—then again, Ariene wasn’t human, but a woodland fae, so it made a small bit of sense.
Roa spoke wryly, “Sneaky little runt, you just met her and you’re already trying to get her on your side!?” The chalk pygmy replied with a visible scoff while Ariene raised an eyebrow at him. Roa scratched his neck, unresigned.
Suddenly—“Volt!” A flash of purple arced across the distance.
Roa and Ariene looked towards the direction it originated; there was no wondering what it was, but who. They both turned their gazes back at each other before nodding their heads and bursting into a sprint.
Red Tier Spell—Volt. There was only one reason for an offensive spell to be cast. Past a thicket of dead trees, they saw a silhouette of someone trudging along with another person hanging on his shoulders.
“It’s that snowflake!” Roa and Ariene spoke simultaneously.
Roa and Ariene arrived to see the young noble, Novis Philitte; his lavish coat, dirty, tattered, torn—no longer in its pristine form and not much different from someone who had been robbed by bandits. His appearance was evidence that he had been running away from something for the past few hours.
On the other hand, the person hanging on his shoulder, she had a few scrapes here and there, but not a strand of her raven hair had been harmed. Yuria Illyas, who was being brought along, seemed like she had arrived within the Spirit Domain unconscious.
“Ariene!” Roa shouted, while Ariene moved one step ahead of him.
Novis, who was beyond tired, grimaced, hearing the sound of a faint whistle hurtling towards him from the air. His attention was confined fully by the thought of the incoming wooden spear; due to this, he hadn’t noticed the descent of a thick, jet-black wall coming in between him and the fatal attack.
Wooden debris exploded, but surprisingly, Novis felt all his limbs and organs still intact.
“Hey.” Roa called out and approached Novis with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t recall you being the self-sacrificing character? You have my thanks.”
“Commoner, you’re here?—Hah? What are you thanking me for?” Novis replied with a baffled and sour tone.
Looking at their state, Novis had been shielding Yuria with his body. Roa appreciated that Lucas Hargan’s lover hadn’t been hurt, but wasn’t the young noble being a bit too overprotective? Roa asked just in case, “Have you fallen for her or something? I’m telling you right now, it won’t end well for you.”
Novis looked back at him with a face screaming repulsion. Afterwards, he huffed, “Keep the young lady safe, commoner! If you don’t, it’ll be our heads!”
Of course he would keep her safe, thought Roa. Though he wondered about what the noble meant by the latter words.
He was no closer to a decent answer when he suddenly felt his nape tingle with fright. Roa quickly unhitched the blade from his hip. There was no indication of an attack yet he could feel the cold glare of death latching onto his back.
A thin film of aura rolled down the rusty blade taken from the bald man’s head. Like water seeping into the cracks of a parched lakebed, the rusty old blade miraculously regained its gleam and sharpness.
Three swift cuts.
The first cut bore the brunt of an impact with a wooden spear; the second cut split through the grain; and the third—the warning whistle wasn’t heard because the attack came from nearby, so the third cut was aimed solely at a nearby, unseen enemy.
A high-pitched, loud bellowing cry echoed aloud within the surrounding white mist. Vibrant, glittering red blood dripped down onto the barren earth, and where it had fallen emerged a few sprouts of Luminous Crowns.
In a split second, the flow of air shifted and a huge, scruffy monster came into view. With a pair of ashen-gray ox horns on its head, snow-white matted fur, and a tail similar to one of a fox’s—its beady crimson eyes directed anger towards Roa who was only at the height of its waist.
Roa chuckled wrly, “Heh, long time no see, Gruff!”
A reunion with his enemy, who once dared chase him around—a pitiful young man with one arm—for days, and days, and days on end. Roa steadied his stance, preparing his blade for the taste of the blood of a fairy.
In his hands wasn’t the cursed blade, Jack, nonetheless the weight felt no different. An incredible swift lunge that was often mistaken as spatial magic—Roa felt he could now utilize that technique properly.
“Void Strike!” He flew across the small space between him and the monster, aiming the blade’s edge at the center of its bony stomach. However, only an inch managed to pierce the monster’s leather before he was sent flying by the monster’s rigid swat, slamming his back against a dead tree.
Revenge eluded Roa. His footwork came short of the length of a single step.
He hadn’t taken into account how he developed his techniques later on when his body had fully matured so he fell into a trap he had dug for himself. He slumped down onto the ground, wearing a self-deprecating smile.
“Heh, can’t say this doesn’t feel familiar.” Since regressing, memories once deemed an unbending past flooded his mind.
On the first occurrence of the Spirit Domain—here, the days of not even being treated as prey but as a toy being played around with, they only added sustenance to the budding seed of rage within Roa’s spirit.
“Oh…” Roa stood up as if being blown a few meters away didn’t faze him. He broke into a mad dash forward, with his blade gripped tightly on his right hand. A wide crescent formed on his face as he finally released the restraints on his bloodlust.
Roa roared loudly, “Didn’t your mother tell you never to play with your food? Else, it’ll come back from the dead to smack your ugly goat face six feet into the ground!!!”
—End of Chapter 13
