.219

“Ugh...!”

It took me nearly a minute to get used to the crushing pressure of the energy surging in from the rift. Even then, I had to constantly bear the invisible weight, but I managed to keep my wits about me at the very least.

I painstakingly raised my head and gazed into the rift. “Is that...a sky? Full of stars?”

The eldest Dyphon walked up beside me and nodded. “A space of stars and celestial bodies. It goes by many names. The beings beyond call it ‘outer space’ or sometimes ‘the sky.’”

“The beings beyond?”

“Those who live in a world that is not ours.”

“What...?” I cocked my head. What exactly does that mean?

“Hmm, how to explain...”

“Allow me,” Lardon interjected, ignoring the eldest Dyphon’s petulant frown. “There exist houses besides your own. You understand this, yes?”

I blinked. “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. Of course.”

“This is also true for villages, correct?”

“Uh-huh.”

“The same goes for countries.”

“Yep.”

“Even continents.”

“Right.”

“And there you have it,” said the eldest Dyphon. When I arched a brow at her, confusion apparent on my face, she reeled in shock. “What? Seriously?”

“He cannot connect those dots. This man is hopeless with everything but magic,” Lardon said with a huff. She shook her head and faced me again. “What I meant to say was that there also exist worlds besides our own.”

“Ohhh!”

Dyphon looked between us. “What? He seriously didn’t get that...?”

Lardon shrugged. “All his talent went into magic. Humans like him appear every so often, no?”

“Huh... Well, I guess so.” The eldest Dyphon nodded.

I mulled over Lardon’s analogy some more. A house, village, country, continent, and a world... Her examples kept getting bigger and bigger. Yeah, I think I get it now.

“Oh,” I murmured as I glanced back at the rift. “That one looks cool.”

“Hmm? Which one?” Dyphon leaned in to take a look.

“Over there—the one with rings around it.” I pointed into the starry space, at an enormous celestial body surrounded by rings of light.

“Ah, that one. It’s pretty famous on the other side. Stands out, doesn’t it?”

“It sure does.”

“Anyway, let’s get back on track.”

“Right.” I nearly forgot—we didn’t come here just to stargaze.

“You see,” Dyphon began, “when crossing between worlds, tangible objects are converted into intangible energy, and whenever something from the other world comes into ours, it breaks down into high-density mana.”

I quickly grasped the idea. “Oh! In that case...”

After a short pause, I held my hand out and molded my mana into a magic circle. Dyphon and Lardon hummed, immediately picking up on what I was doing.

“I tried raising my mana resistance,” I said. “Looks like it worked.”

“Now your mind’s working,” Dyphon mused.

“He immediately set up countermeasures too,” Lardon noted.

“Impressive. But life must be hard if he’s that sharp.”

“My current self will handle that. She’s taken a liking to him, after all.”

“Seems so.”

What are they talking about? I didn’t really understand, so I just brushed it off and asked, “So, what do I do now?”

“Wait until something comes your way,” answered Dyphon. “The moment it crosses over, it will crumble apart and form a torrent of mana. Show us that you can take it for yourself.”

“That sounds tough. I’m already struggling as it is—what do I do when something does come our way?”

“Well, that’s entirely up to you.”

“All right...”

I took a moment to prepare. To start, I plucked a strand of hair from my head and tossed it into space. The moment it crossed the boundary, it dissipated into some form of energy that I’d never seen before. Okay, I see now.

A while later, I spotted something hurtling toward the rift—straight to us. “There!”

“Lucky boy,” Dyphon mused. “That’s called space debris. It’s man-made junk.”

“You mean, it was made by people in the other world?”

“Yep. Man-made objects like that become stronger energy—or stronger mana, basically.”

“Oh...”

I returned my attention to the rift and braced myself for an unimaginably powerful torrent of mana. Finally, the moment the “space debris” crossed the boundary—

“Time Stop!”

This was my strategy—to absorb the immense mana while time was stopped. However, even in this frozen world, the torrent of energy bearing down on me was relentless. The pressure was incomparable to what I’d been subjected to when the eldest Dyphon had first opened this rift, and it was far beyond anything I could’ve ever prepared for.

“Urgh...”

No time to lose! I gritted my teeth and focused my vision. I set my eyes on the newly formed mana and sank my teeth into it—it almost felt like biting into a terribly tough chunk of meat—and then, only a beat later, time started ticking once more.

“Oh?”

“What did you do?”

Lardon and Dyphon could immediately tell that I’d done something.

“I stopped time to digest the mana,” I answered. “Usually, I can only manage three seconds at most, but I directed some of the digested mana into the spell, so I actually ended up with quite a bit to spare.”

Lardon hummed. “Hence, you were able to completely devour all the mana.”

“Impressive,” said Dyphon, her eyes lighting up.

As they spoke, my eyes drifted toward the rift again. I have so much leftover mana. With this...I can probably consume another torrent or two.

I fixed my sights on the starry space, slipping into my own world.

.220

Liam gazed intently at Dyphon’s dimensional rift—so intently, in fact, that it was as if he’d dedicated his mind, body, and soul entirely to observing the starry space. The ringed celestial body stood starkly amid the void, yet his gaze seemed to be set further beyond.

Dyphon looked at him with a frown. “What are you—”

“Stop,” Lardon interjected.

“What?” Dyphon whipped her head to Lardon and glared, emitting enough bloodlust to knock out an ordinary human. “Who do you think you are, bossing me around?”

The three dragons were like water and oil. The malice swirling in the air right now was proof that their placidity under Liam’s presence was truly no more than a momentary truce.

Lardon huffed. “I said it for the boy, not for me.”

Dyphon flinched, pulling her lips into a scowl. Her animosity weakened, but arguing with her fellow dragons was almost second nature by now. She narrowed her eyes and brusquely demanded, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“From what little I know, the lad becomes like this when he is brainstorming a new spell.”

“A new spell?”

“Correct. Most likely, he is thinking of how to open a rift.”

“Why not just ask us?”

“He is the type to find answers on his own. That is why my current self has taken a liking to him.”

Dyphon pursed her lips, then let out a sigh. “All right, fine.”

She and Lardon disagreed on many things, but the value of a human’s hard work was not one of them.

“I am curious as to how far he will go. So leave him be.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice,” Dyphon mumbled.

Beside them, Paithon looked at Liam in exasperation. “Hasn’t he forgotten our original objective?”

“He certainly has,” Lardon replied, lips quirked in amusement.

Dyphon sighed. “Seems like just the type your current self likes.”

“Indeed. So let us quietly watch over him.”

“I get it. Stop bossing me around.” Dyphon groaned. “But seriously, can we really leave him to get sidetracked like this?”

“Why not?” Lardon said. “Between the four of us, destroying a human nation or two should be a simple task, no?”

The eldest Dyphon narrowed her eyes. “Are you forgetting about Dragon Slayer?”

“Hmm? Why? Do you think you’ll get hit by it again?” Lardon smirked.

“Of course not! They won’t catch me off guard a second time!”

“Precisely. As long as we cooperate, even the humans’ secret weapon will not amount to anything. No human is afraid of an ant wielding a poisoned blade.” Lardon looked at each of her fellow dragons and nodded. “How long would it take you to destroy that country and find the way to dispel Dragon Slayer?”

“A day,” Dyphon answered promptly. Her older self concurred.

“An hour, if I already know who has the intel,” said Paithon.

“Oh?” Lardon arched her brow. “Why an hour?”

“Well, we’ll have to torture them first, right? If I just drag them around and destroy a town for each question they refuse to answer, they’ll spill the beans pretty soon.”

“Ah, yes. Humans are weak to guilt.”

“Why? What would you do?”

“Me? Well...” Lardon hummed. “Since we have three days, I would take my time and let my offspring run wild.”

“Why bother?”

“Humans are sly creatures. When tortured, the first three confessions will always be lies.”

“Hmm. I guess you’re not wrong.”

Liam had sought a solution with magic, but the dragons were different. As beings fated to be reborn, the death of their current selves was hardly a cause for alarm, and even if they were to search for a solution... Well, if they weren’t picky about their methods, they’d have several choices at their disposal at the very least. Their composure was apparent, from this exchange to even their playful decision to put on a performance of subservience to Liam.

“So?” The past Dyphon turned to Lardon. “Sure, we can let him be, but what then? Will you handle everything instead? ’Cause I don’t plan on going that far.”

“Neither do I,” Lardon answered. “If one of you were to take action, then I suppose I would watch... But in any case, this world must be left to those still living in it.”

The other three dragons traded glances and nodded in agreement.

“So what now?” Dyphon asked.

“Now we must make sure the living will act.”

Lardon raised a hand above her head, and three magic circles appeared hovering by their feet. They flashed brightly for a moment before three figures emerged like a spring gushing forth from the ground: Reina the elf, Chris the wolfman, and Gai the giant—Liam’s three closest executives.

“Wh-Where am I?!”

“Hmm? Is that...milord?!”

While Chris and Gai were startled by the sudden summoning, Reina calmly took stock of her surroundings before turning to Lardon. “Can we help you, Lord Lardon?”

Lardon nodded. “As you can see, the lad is busy crafting a new spell.”

“Indeed. He appears rather immersed.”

“You must act in his place in the meantime. Perhaps destroy a town or two.”

Reina narrowed her eyes. “Are those Master’s orders?”

“No. But it will contribute to his goal.”

The elf stared intently at Lardon, until finally, she nodded. It seemed her fellow executives weren’t willing to back down so easily, however.

“Huh? Why’re you giving us orders?” Chris snarled.

“I am well aware that milord deeply respects you, lord dragon, but he is our one and only liege,” said Gai.

“Yeah, yeah! We don’t take orders from you!”

Reina didn’t join their protest, nor did she stop them—which was, in a way, her own form of protest.

Lardon quietly sighed before giving a small smile. “I am merely making a suggestion.”

“A suggestion?”

“Yes. I am advising you to take care of the smaller tasks so the lad can focus on his magic.”

Surprisingly, Reina was the first to react. “The smaller tasks, hmm...” She nodded. “Understood. We accept your suggestion.”

Gai whipped his head to her. “What? Are you certain?!”

“But Reina, can we really just take orders from someone else?” Chris whined.

Reina turned to her fellow executives. “Master is focused on developing a spell. You can see that, can you not?”

“I mean, yeah...” Chris shrugged. “It’s nothing new.”

Gai nodded. “He is as diligent as ever, and that is why we follow him.”

“Then it is our job to take care of the smaller tasks—the more trivial matters—so he can focus on his magic. Whoever gave the order doesn’t matter... Don’t you agree?”

Chris gasped. “Y-You’re right!”

“Well put! I concur!” Gai exclaimed.

Having swiftly convinced the simpleminded duo, Reina turned back to Lardon. “You suggested destroying a town or two. Would that be all?”

“Try spreading the news as well. That should help the lad.”

“What news, precisely?”

“That you are merely the opening act—and that all of you together are still no match for the king you serve.”

“Very well. It shall be done.”

“But that much is obvious,” Chris drawled.

“Tsk, tsk. Once a boar, always a boar.” Gai shook his head. “There is no point in us knowing. The divine dragon is saying we must make sure the humans learn—the hard way.”

“Hmph! I know that!”

Their usual squabbling aside, Gai and Chris seemed to have understood and accepted Lardon’s instructions. With that, Lardon held out her hand once more. Magic circles formed above each of their heads, swooping down and sending the executives back to where they were before.

Paithon watched the three disappear and sighed. “You really like dragging things out.”

Lardon simply smirked and shrugged in response.

All the while, Liam had been mumbling something under his breath—most likely brainstorming his new spell—completely unperturbed by the interruption. It wasn’t long before the three executives led the army of monsters to thoroughly crush an entire town, a feat they achieved even without their king by their side.

.221

I stared intently at the boundary between worlds, or more precisely, at the mana particles lingering in the air since Dyphon opened the rift. I intended to study these traces to figure out how this whole thing worked—and not because asking Dyphon herself wouldn’t help.

My understanding of magic had grown much deeper since I became Liam Hamilton. These days, the shortest explanation was all I needed to understand and sometimes even replicate a spell, but I still found that the better method for me was to analyze lingering magical traces myself. While a verbal explanation could bring me to around eighty to ninety percent understanding, personally studying the spell’s traces usually gave me a much more complete and intricate picture of the magic.

So recently, I’d taken to figuring things out myself whenever I got the chance—like now, since Dyphon had just cast the spell right in front of me.

When I had shared this discovery with Lardon, she told me about chefs replicating a dish by taste, not recipe—an apt analogy for my case with magic. I supposed that was why there was such a phrase as “watch and learn” in this world. Or, in this case, “taste and learn.”

Anyhow, Lardon had agreed with my observation, so I chose to analyze the mana traces myself instead of asking Dyphon directly this time. After closer inspection, I finally gained a general understanding of it...and also newfound respect for Dyphon.

She cast such an incredible spell like it was nothing... I wonder, can I do it too? I had a feeling I was more likely to fail than not, but still, I wanted to give it a shot. No way I’m backing down from a chance to learn new magic!

I stared at the remnants of her spell and internalized all the sensations. This was going to be a little reckless on my part, but as they said: no pain, no gain!

“Amelia Emilia Claudia. Sixty-one, sixty-seven, seventy-one...”

I mustered all the mana I could draw from my body, like wringing a towel until it was bone-dry.

“Seventy-three... Seventy-nine...”

I reached even deeper, into the pool of mana I’d digested just moments ago.

“Eighty-three... Eighty— Ugh!”

Will this be enough...to master the spell? I wanted to gather a bit more, but I’d reached my limit—no, I’d broken past it already. Wringing out all my mana and drawing out the freshly digested mana—it was all too much. I felt like the slightest distraction would tip me over, like a rubber band stretched to its utmost limit.

I have to go for it now!

All of a sudden, however, I spotted something. In the vastness Dyphon had called “outer space,” something was flying toward me at an incredible speed: a huge metallic object, with rectangular winglike structures on its sides bearing a silvery sheen. I had no idea what it was, but it looked like some sort of man-made object—much larger and faster than the one I’d encountered earlier.

“Crap...!”

No way I was getting out unscathed if that huge lump of metal crashed into me. I’d be lucky if it just ripped me in half, but it seemed more likely to tear me into shreds. I tensed up, hoping to dodge, when an idea struck me like lightning. Dyphon’s voice echoed in my head, giving me a flash of inspiration.

“Reverse!”

I stopped gathering my mana and shoved it into my body—not without consequence, of course, as I’d been mustering all my body’s mana plus the digested surplus. A metallic taste crawled up my throat until it spilled from my mouth with a wet cough.

“Time Stop!”

Blood trickled down my chin, but I paid it no mind—the man-made object had just crossed over and disintegrated into a torrent of mana, so I directed all my focus into drawing from my bursting mana pool to stop time and devour the energy.

“Man-made objects like that become stronger energy—or stronger mana, basically.”

Dyphon wasn’t lying—this mana was so dense, it was like nothing I’d ever felt before. My body swelled, stuffed with immense mana—just for now, of course, but this moment was all I needed.

“Amelia Emilia Claudia... A hundred and one!”

Once time began to move again, I gathered all my mana and pried open a new and unventured door.

.222

Just as I’d pried it open, however, the “door” snapped back shut.

“Aaargh!”

All the power I’d poured into it—101 spells’ worth of mana—came hurtling back and launched me into the air. I crashed into the ground almost a hundred meters away, gouging a small crater beneath me.

“Owww...” Pain assaulted my entire body. A healing spell... No, no. I need all the mana I can use right now.

I staggered back to my feet as my mind worked to assess what had caused my failure. My findings were simple: a powerful spring and a complex mechanism. Basically, when I failed to operate the mechanism, the spring snapped, and the door, let’s say, slammed shut right over my fingers as I was trying to get in the room.

With my leftover mana, I flew back to the dimensional rift where the dragons, still in their military uniforms, stood wordlessly. When Lardon and I locked eyes, she simply smirked and said nothing—but as always, when it came to magic, I was quick on the uptake.

That was a smirk of approval, meaning I was on the right track. All I lacked now was the proficiency to pull this off. It seemed my hundred and one spells still weren’t enough.

Just to be sure, I cast Lardon another glance. She smiled—I could almost hear her telling me to continue, so I mustered up my remaining mana and gave it another go. It took me a few more rounds, but finally, I managed to open up another, if much smaller, dimensional rift beside Dyphon’s.

“Wow,” Dyphon murmured. “You must be the first human to learn Another Dimension.”

“Ah, so that’s the spell’s name...” I nodded. “I’ve already learned a handful of spells with ‘dimension’ in their names. I guess that helped.”

Dyphon shrugged. “Still impressive.”

“But anyway, I’m glad I’ve learned this spell,” I said with a smile.

Lardon nodded. “Indeed. With this, you now have an infinite supply of mana.”

“Mm-hmm. And I can maintain your forms too, even after this whole thing’s over.”

All at once, the four dragons of the past stared at me in shock.

“Huh? What’s wrong? Did I say something weird?” I frowned and thought back to what I just said. “Maintaining your forms takes a ton of mana, which I can now supply with Another Dimension... Am I wrong?”

“Not at all. That is correct,” said Lardon as Dyphon nodded beside her.

I sighed in relief. While I’d grown more confident in my magic expertise, on the flip side, I’d die of embarrassment if I ever got something wrong now. “Well, then... What’s the matter?”

“We are stunned you learned it for us,” Lardon said, glancing at the other dragons.

“Yeah. I never realized you were even thinking about that.”

“And it doesn’t sound like you want to keep us here for our fighting power.”

“Oh, uh... I see...?” I guess that explained it, but still, was it really that shocking?

Before I could dwell on it further, I caught something flying toward my dimensional rift. This time, it was just a stone—a meteorite. It didn’t give me as much mana as the last two objects since it wasn’t man-made, but I absorbed it all the same and used it to maintain the dragons’ forms.

There was no more room for doubt after that: This new spell, Another Dimension, could do just what I needed it to do. That realization came with an immense sense of accomplishment—and how couldn’t it? After all, not only did I solve an immediate problem, I pulled through with a new spell to boot.

Bursting with energy, I couldn’t help but feel more assured of my goals than ever. Confidence swelled in my chest. Since I can do this...surely, I can save the three current dragons too! With magic, anything is possible!

“Lad, I have a suggestion for you,” said Lardon, snapping me out of my thoughts. “A way for you to bestow greater despair upon the humans so we can learn how to dispel Dragon Slayer.”

My ears perked up. “What should I do?”

“Simple. You see, I’ve sent your subordinates to attack some human towns. Have them retreat at just the right time...then step in yourself.”

“Should I just start attacking them too?”

“No. You must cast a certain spell on all the citizens. That is all.”

I cocked my head. Just one spell? Really? “And what spell is that?”

Lardon smirked. “Human Slayer.”

“All right,” I answered swiftly and with conviction.

At this point, I didn’t even have to consider whether I could even make the spell—the answer was a resounding yes. Based on the name, Lardon was probably asking for a spell that worked only on humans. Making it should be a piece of cake.

As for casting it on the entire populace... Well, on top of being able to amplify my mana with an aria, I now had Another Dimension to supply me all the mana I needed. Heck, I could even use our cityspace magic, since this was a single-instance spell.

Lardon raised a brow. “No questions?”

“I do have a few, but when it’s outside of magic, I have complete faith in you.”

Lardon’s face turned slightly slack from shock. As she faltered, Dyphon furrowed her brows and quietly mumbled, “Well, aren’t you a smooth talker?”

.223

“Huh?” I cocked my head and threw Dyphon a perplexed look. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, don’t mind me,” she replied, waving it off. “Anyway, just make that new spell already. We aren’t in a rush, but we don’t have all day either.”

“Sure. It’s done.”

“What?” blurted all the dragons as they whipped their heads to me at once. It was a little funny seeing four girls with such vastly different personalities moving and talking in complete sync.

“What do you mean?” Lardon asked.

Hmm? Wasn’t I clear? “Uh, well... The spell is done.”

“You mean to say...you’ve crafted Human Slayer?”

“Uh-huh.”

Lardon narrowed her eyes. “In that one instant?”

“And you don’t mean that you actually already knew a suitable spell...right?” Dyphon asked.

I shook my head. “Nope. I made it just now. Um... Should I not have?” I was a bit taken aback but also a little concerned by their reactions.

“No, it’s not that you shouldn’t have...” Lardon trailed off, then huffed lightly. “Goodness. Just like that.”

Dyphon frowned. “It can’t be that easy, can it?”

“Really? I mean... I’m a human, so I’d know best how to make ‘Human Slayer,’ don’t you think?”

Considering how shocked they were, I took a moment to revisit my logic. As a human, I was naturally more familiar with humans over any other animal or living being. So, if I had to make a species-slaying spell, a “human slayer” would obviously be my first and best option.

Yep. Makes sense to me. Laying it out like this only made me more confident, all the more since this was just my field of expertise: magic.

Lardon shook her head in exasperation. “Ah, so nonchalant...”

“I mean, he’s not wrong...”

“Strange. This boy is so interesting... And I never would’ve expected to agree with you two after death.”

“I suppose it pays to live a long life,” Lardon said.

“We’re all dead, though.”

The four dragons began to banter, but what about, I had no clue. I didn’t think they’d lose themselves in chitchatting and forget our original goal, but seeing them enjoying themselves in the middle of such a crisis actually made me a little worried, so I had to intervene.

“So, uh... What do we do now?”

The dragons looked at one another before three gazes fell on Lardon, as if pushing her forward and urging her to explain.

“You’ve made the spell. Now put it to use,” she began.

I nodded. “I guess so. Who do I use it on, though?”

“Before that, allow me to confirm: You’ve made it work on a timer, just like Dragon Slayer, yes?”

“Right. Since it was so easy to make, I can even adjust the timer.”

“Well done. In that case...use it on everyone.”

I cocked my head. “Everyone? Um... Everyone, as in...?”

“Everyone in... Hmm, what was it called again? The country that cast Dragon Slayer?”

“Huh? Oh, it’s the Duchy of Parta.”

“Ah, yes. Well, their name matters not. Just cast Human Slayer on their entire populace.”

“Oh...” I hung my head in thought.

“What is it? Finally doubting my words?”

“Oh, no. Not at all. Like I said, I’ll never doubt your advice, at least outside of magic.”

“Then what are you thinking?”

“Well, the thing is...we need to get this done before those three succumb to Dragon Slayer, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then I need to go about this as efficiently as I can...” I sighed. “But an entire population is a lot to work with.”

“Ah, is that what’s bothering you?”

“Well, that’s not a problem,” Dyphon piped in, and soon the other dragons followed.

“Right. We’ve decided to parade this fit, after all.”

“This all works out well.”

I looked at the smiling dragons and arched a brow. “What do you mean?”

“Remember how we decided to put on a show of subservience to you?”

“Ah, right. I remember.”

“If the four of us split up, we can fell a single human nation in half a day,” Lardon said. “All you have to do is teach us your spell. We may not be able to master it in an instant like you, but ten minutes should be plenty.”

“Oh!” I snapped my fingers. “All right, then.”

She was right—teaching them and then having them split up was the most efficient way to go about this. The four of them could cast the spell in my place and make it look as if they were under my bidding, which was why they all put on those military uniforms to begin with.

I summoned my item box, took out some high mithril silver, and crafted some Ancient Memoria—or grimoires, basically—for Human Slayer. Once they were done, I handed them over to the dragons.

Forget ten minutes. They all mastered the spell in five.

Lardon scoffed. “How impractical.”

“Truly,” Paithon agreed with a small smile. “We’ve no need for such a spell just to kill humans.”

“But you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” said Dyphon.

“She certainly is,” Lardon mused.

It was clear from where I was standing too—they did seem to be having fun.

Finally, Dyphon turned to me. “Guess we’re all set.”

“We shall return once we’re done,” Lardon said. “Until then, you must save your mana.”

“I will.”

With a nod, I saw off the four dragons. Clothed in their military uniforms, they flew into the sky and scattered beyond the horizon. They would return not even an hour later, signaling the beginning of the end for every single human in the Duchy of Parta.

.224

“I should’ve asked Lardon what to do while waiting...”

With the dragons gone, I found myself alone and left with nothing to do. To pass the time, I decided to open up another dimensional rift—after all, there was no such thing as too much mana for me now. I still had to wait for something to come flying from the other side, though.

“Hmm... Feels like fishing,” I mused as I absently stared into the endless space. You cast the line, wait for something to bite, then...you catch it! Yep. Just like fishing. I began to wonder if I could somehow “scatter bait” too, or if there were good “fishing spots” in this space...

“Is now a good time, Master?”

I flinched; Reina’s voice suddenly cut through my thoughts. I darted my eyes left and right till I realized: Ah, right. The Liamnet’s new voice communication feature—she must be using it. “Sure. What’s up, Reina?”

“Apologies for disturbing you,” she said, “but I thought to bring this to your attention. You see, we were in the midst of our invasion when, all of a sudden, ninety-nine percent of the humans fainted.”

“Oh... We did that.” It seemed the dragons were getting right to work with casting Human Slayer. Although, informing the main army about our new plans had completely slipped my mind. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you. Did it cause problems?”

“Not at all. It is helping us advance,” Reina replied. “But may I ask why some remain conscious?”

“Hmm?” I cocked my head. Come to think of it, she said “ninety-nine percent,” and that could only mean... Huh? So the spell didn’t work on everyone? “Human Slayer should’ve affected the whole populace...”

“‘Human Slayer’? Is it a newly developed spell of yours, Master?”

“Yeah. It’s exactly like Dragon Slayer, but for humans.”

“Oh? Impressive, Master. In more ways than one, might I add.”

“More ways than one...?” I frowned, confused. “Um, like what?”

“You see, based on our survey, it appears only demihumans or those with demihuman blood remain conscious.”

“Oh...!”

I realized then—Human Slayer was a spell that targeted humans. Just as how Lardon, Dyphon, and Paithon fell victim to Dragon Slayer, no human could resist Human Slayer—but that also meant it could do nothing to nonhumans. An ant could get hit with the spell and nothing would happen. The same went for half humans—people with demihuman blood—and there were quite a few of them in our society. These people would get off scot-free from the effects of Human Slayer.

“Wow, I totally missed that... Not that it’s a bad thing.”

“In fact, I find this rather impressive.”

“What do you mean, Reina?” Why would she be impressed by an oversight?

“Master,” said Reina, a hint of excitement leaking through her calm tone—I could hear it even over the Liamnet. “I believe that your spell, Human Slayer, can identify humans with extreme accuracy.”

“Oh... I guess it can.” I was pretty confident about that, actually. Since I’d made the spell work only on humans, naturally, it should be able to distinguish between humans and other races with a hundred percent accuracy.

“Thus, I believe this spell can also be used to determine whether someone is human or not.”

“Oh... That’s true. Thanks, Reina.”

“Hmm? Whatever for, Master?”

“Sorting and classifying selected targets... I didn’t realize the spell could be used in other ways.”

“It is my honor to be of help to you,” Reina replied, her voice brimming with joy.

“Come to think of it, are you alone? Where’s everyone else?”

“I’ve just returned to our territory in order to use the Liamnet.”

“Oh, right. You can’t use it outside unless I give you the same thing I gave to Bruno...” I hummed. “Reina, say I ask you for something you can see from anywhere. What comes to mind?”

“From anywhere? Hmm... Perhaps the moon?” she offered. “Yes. I’ve heard that humans, when homesick, look up at the moon and find comfort in the fact that it looks the same as it did back home.”

“Oh... I think I’ve heard of that too.” I nodded. “Hmm, but... The moon only comes out at night, doesn’t it?”

“Then...the sky, perhaps?”

“Aha! The sky...” I looked up at the sky and nodded again.

True, the sky was everywhere. I momentarily considered “air” too, but it was less obvious and visible than the sky, so I scrapped the idea. I took a moment to compose the new spell in my mind—one that would make it possible for any of my familiars to use the Liamnet as long as they could see the sky.

“I’ll call it...Skylink.”

We might need this more often from now on, so I decided to craft this spell while waiting for the dragons to finish their jobs.

.225

My new spell was far from complex. In fact, I could make it right this instant if I just wanted to get the job done and over with. But a spell like that, pieced together so haphazardly, would be something only I could make use of.

In the course of operating the Liamnet, I’d noticed that other people and monsters weren’t as skilled as me in magic. Since the point here was for the Liamnet to be usable anywhere, anyone should be able to use it wherever they wanted. For that, I couldn’t just make the spell—I needed to smoothen up the path for other users too.

“Make it easy to use...and easy to pick up,” I mumbled, piecing my thoughts together. From my item box, I took out some bloodsouls and high mithril silver, then ground them into powder with my mana.

“Go!”

I threw the fistful of mana-rich powder into the air. As it defied gravity and floated up into the sky, I kept my eyes trained on the little particles while also sensing them.

The powder stayed airborne for quite a while, and though it eventually settled to the ground, the slightest breeze soon kicked it back up into the air again. I patiently observed as the particles flew up and up and up, all the way to the clouds. Once they were that far up, they no longer fell down.

“Sketch!”

Chanting a simple spell, I used the mixed powder to doodle in the sky like a child would in a sand pit. In no time at all, I had etched the particles into an image faintly resembling my face, high in the sky beside some white clouds.

“What are you doing?”

“Whoa!” I jumped and whipped my face to the side, where I found the past Lardon in her military uniform staring curiously at the sky. “Lardon, you’re back?”

“Are you preparing for a new spell?” she asked instead of answering my question.

Well, that was pretty silly of me to ask. I mean, she’s obviously back... I cleared my throat, willing my embarrassment away, and nodded. “Yeah, that’s right. Do you know the Liamnet? It’s a spell I made to make life easier in our city. I’m trying to make it accessible outside our borders.”

“Ah.” Lardon squinted at the clouds. “That, then, will function like those staves that humans use to cast magic?”

I bobbed my head. As Lardon said, most human mages used a staff to efficiently gather and release their mana. My face in the sky would do the same for my familiars—once I mastered this spell, of course.

“Thirty-onefold...Skylink!”

Lardon arched a brow. “Quite the simple spell, hmm?”

I shrugged. “It’s basically a revision of an existing spell.”

“Hmm... You are not wrong, but I feel you are not quite right either. Although I suspect my current self would have swiftly agreed.”

“Would she?”

She nodded emphatically. “Why, she must be well accustomed to your extraordinary feats by now.”

I shot her a skeptical look, as I couldn’t quite see what was so extraordinary about this. To begin with, making magic wasn’t much more difficult than learning it—they were both a simple matter of “practice makes perfect.” Sure, I shortened the process with multicasting, but the feat per se was nothing extraordinary—even less for Skylink, since it was simple enough for me to master in thirty-one casts.

“Ah, well. I suppose my understanding of you is yet incomparable to that of my current self.”

“Sure... Oh, wait. Is it just you, Lardon?” I took a quick look around, and sure enough, none of the other dragons were back yet.

“I finished my route ahead of them,” she replied. “There were many authority figures in the areas assigned to me, you see. I left them untouched, and so I finished sooner than the rest.”

“What? Why’d you do that?”

Lardon chuckled. “As I suspected... You did not consider this, did you?”

“Uh... Should I have?”

“Not at all. You are fine as you are, lad. You may leave the thinking to me henceforth.” Lardon smirked. “In any case, to answer your question—I did not cast Human Slayer on those in authority because otherwise, we cannot accomplish our goal.”

“Huh...?”

“Tell me, lad. You do not necessarily wish to annihilate the entire country, yes?”

“Of course not,” I answered immediately. My head might be filled with magic, but I wasn’t about to forget our main goal. “We need to, uh...threaten the Duchy of Parta and get them to dispel Dragon Slayer.”

“Precisely.” Lardon nodded, then tugged the corner of her lips into a smirk. “But if we took down the humans in power...who would issue the order to dispel it, then?”

“Oh!” Of course...!

Lardon chuckled. “I nearly thought you’d forgotten about ‘us.’ You seemed to be enjoying crafting new spells by yourself here.”

“Of course not,” I said, looking her in the eye. “I just didn’t bother wasting any time asking. I was sure you guys had things all planned out.”

“Truly?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “And I knew that you would set up another stage in this plan where I need to use my magic.”

Lardon stared at me for a moment before letting out a sigh. “Sometimes, the airheaded are the most fearsome...”

“Huh?”

“I mean to say you are correct.”

“Really? Nice.”

Lardon narrowed her eyes. “Now then, shall we?”

I returned the gaze and nodded firmly. I was the most powerful unit in our country, and Lardon had the smarts to use me to the fullest. The time had come for me to follow her word.

.226

I got right down to business. “What do I need to do?”

“First, let us review the situation. We have approximately two days left before Dragon Slayer takes full effect. Do you understand what this means?”

“Um... That we need to hurry it up?”

“No, quite the opposite.” Lardon smirked. “It means we just need to solve the problem before those two days are up, even if it means using the next day and a half for preparations.”

“Oh... I guess that’s true. From what I could tell, Dragon Slayer won’t leave any side effects even if we dispel it at the very last minute.”

“Hah. Sharp as always with magic. In any case, I will now have you work on preparations that will be seemingly unrelated to our main issue.”

“All right.” I nodded. “Just say the word. I’ll do whatever you tell me to.”

“Hmph... Very well. For the next day, I want you to visit all the human settlements within the duchy by yourself.”

“Hmm? What for?”

“To check on the battlefield as the king of your nation,” she explained. “Simply drop by and take a quick look around. Nothing else.”

“Oh... Nothing else? Really?”

“Yes. Ah, but you may ask your subordinates if they need any help. If any human survivors attack you, then you may retaliate—as long as you do not hold back.”

“Okay, got it. What do I do after that?”

Lardon shook her head. “This is all you need to know for now. You’re not very good at putting on an act, are you, lad?”

“Uh, well...” I scratched my head and laughed awkwardly. I guess not...

“For now, all we need is for the Monster King to leisurely spend the day looking around the battlefield.”

“Got it. I’ll be off, then.”

I spun on my heel and took off into the skies. Accessing the Liamnet via Skylink, I pulled up a map of the Duchy of Parta and headed straight for the nearest human settlement.

My third destination for my one-day tour was a town named Miksim. Spotting Gai gathered down below with the other giants, I swiftly descended and landed right behind him.

“Gai.”

Gai jumped and whipped his head around in surprise, grinning the moment he recognized me. “Goodness, milord! What brings you here?”

“Just checking in, I guess. Lardon told me to.”

“Ah, is that so? We are almost done suppressing this location.”

“Oh, you’re still working on it?”

“There are many beastfolk in this town,” he explained.

“Oh... So Human Slayer won’t work on them.” I sighed. “Is everything going well, though?”

“Of course. No inferior version of the boar woman could possibly cause us trouble.”

I hummed and nodded. Chris and the wolfmen had evolved from werewolves. I had no idea how they were different from beastfolk, but from Gai’s report, it seemed they weren’t difficult opponents.

“Need my help for anything?” I asked.

“Thank you kindly. In that case, I would like to ask you not to interfere.”

“Hmm? Why not?”

“You see, I am quite angry.” Gai furrowed his brows, rage emanating from him in waves. Although I wasn’t the target of his anger, I could feel the intensity of his wrath standing before him up close. “These fools dared to use all manner of sneaky tricks against you, when they were actually this weak all along.”

“Oh...”

Well, I could understand that, actually. Ever since we settled down in the promised land, I just couldn’t get a read on our neighboring nations. Did they want to be friends? Or did they want to wage war? Their attitude toward us kept flipping and flopping at the drop of a hat. Even I was starting to get a little annoyed.

“We must show these humans that they can only ever dream of opposing you, milord. Hence, you need not lift a finger here.”

“I get it. I’ll stay back, then. Good luck, Gai.”

“Thank you, milord!” Gai bowed deeply.

My encouragement filled him and his men with great vigor. Their bodies swelled with power, looking bigger and more reliable than ever.

As per Lardon’s instructions, I spent the entire day visiting towns and villages within the Duchy of Parta, and I found that they generally fell into one of two categories.

The first type were those that my army—led by Gai, Chris, and Reina—had invaded and attacked. Much like Gai, the other two executives had flown into a rage, leaving quite the number of casualties on the human side. The towns and villages were pretty much half destroyed too.

The second type were those that the dragons had cast Human Slayer on. The buildings and houses were all intact, and humans lay unconscious everywhere. The sight was so bizarre that, although no one had died yet, these locations gave off an even stronger scent of “death” than the places that had been razed down by my army.

In any case, I spent the entire day going from town to town. Finally, I was down to my last destination: a town called Fesk. An eerie silence ruled over it, much like many other places I’d visited today. As usual, to get a better view, I landed right in the plaza at the very center of the town—

“Hmm?”

—when I realized I’d stepped into a trap. A magic circle expanded from the point where my feet touched the ground, ensnaring and rooting me in place.

“A war-class magic circle, huh? The type that simultaneously deploys a snare and a seal...” I mumbled, swiftly analyzing the magic that enveloped my body. It’s quite the large-scale spell. It must’ve cost a lot of time, manpower...even money.

“We’ve got you now, Monster King!”

“Huh?” I spun around and found three men emerging from the shadows.

One was a handsome armored young man wielding a longsword. I couldn’t sense any mana from him—he had to be a traditional swordsman who couldn’t use even an ounce of magic. Another was a bespectacled man with delicate features dressed in a robe. This one was clearly a skilled mage, since he had a noticeably large mana pool.

The last was a middle-aged man in a priest’s garb. His burly, swelling muscles immediately reminded me of Gai, but leaking beneath his clothes was a strange type of mana—one I’d never encountered before. How does he use that mana? I’d love to know...

The three men slowly approached me, their gazes firmly trained on me.

“That’s what you get for acting all cocky, Monster King!”

“Acting cocky?”

But I wasn’t... No, wait—I get it now! As per Lardon’s instruction, I spent this entire day rather unproductively. I guessed to them, it looked like I was treating this whole situation lightly and going out on a nice little stroll.

“To think he was such a young boy...”

“Don’t be fooled by his looks.”

“I know. The future of our nation rests on our shoulders.”

“Let’s do this, Ares!”

“Yeah!”

The swordsman in the vanguard drew his sword and raised it high into the air, holding it firmly with both hands. Before I could even wonder what he was up to, his two companions began chanting.

Responding to the mage’s chant, gloomy clouds gathered in the sky and sent mana-charged lightning flashing through the air. One streak cracked down on the swordsman’s blade and coiled around it like a snake. Meanwhile, the man clothed in priest’s garb mustered power from the earth and pulled it toward the swordsman’s blade.

The two powers entwined and clashed upon his blade before compressing and swelling together. Eventually, the sword transformed into a humongous blade three stories tall.

“Prepare yourself, Monster King!” At last, with all his might, the swordsman swung the sword down at me with a spirited war cry. “Haaaaah!”

Aha. So that’s why. They held me in place with a war-class magic circle and somehow combined the power of the heavens and the earth—all to take me down with one ultimate finishing move.

Not a bad plan...but too bad for them. I still had unfinished business.

“If any human survivors attack you, then you may retaliate—as long as you do not hold back.”

With Lardon’s words echoing in my mind, I chanted an aria to amplify my mana. The power I harnessed gathered at my feet, and with a firm and resounding stomp, I crushed the magic circle underfoot.

“What?!”

Finally, I held my hand out at the swordsman’s incoming strike. “Absolute Force Shield...and Absolute Magic Shield.”

The enormous sword and my two shields clashed in the air—until all of it shattered, returning silence to the town.

I hummed. “A dual attribute attack... I knew it.”

“This...can’t be...” The three men stared at me, horror and disbelief washing over their faces.

.227

“Hmm... It’s about time to wrap this up.”

After defeating the three men, I looked up at the sky to check the time. I was pretty sure a day had passed since I started this whole leisurely tour, so it seemed like the right time to check back in with Lardon.

I called her using the Liamnet via Skylink. “Hello? Can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, lad.”

“Great. I’m done going around the duchy. What next?”

“Ah, before that—some humans must have attacked you by now, no?”

I blinked. Huh? How did she know?

“Lad?”

“Oh, uh... Sorry. I was surprised.” I hadn’t seen the ambush coming at all, yet Lardon spoke as if she did. “Wow. I can’t believe you predicted that too.”

“Predicted? Far from it. We simply cornered them into action.”

“Er... But isn’t that...”

Isn’t that way more difficult? She’s saying she basically manipulated them, right? I could also manipulate others with magic, but Lardon had managed to do so without it—and so skillfully too. I nearly couldn’t believe my ears. She never fails to surprise me...

“On to the next step. Let us regroup.”

“All right.” I nodded and flew back up into the sky.

The four dragons and I regrouped in the skies above another town in Parta. The dragons’ military uniforms fluttered in the air as they looked down at one particular building. I followed their gazes with a confused frown.

“Er... So, where are we?”

“Right above the mastermind’s residence,” answered Lardon.

“What? The mastermind?” Below us was a lavish mansion much larger than mine back in our city. “And who would that be?”

“The grand duke.”

“Who, by the way, is all alone right now,” Dyphon piped in, snickering. “I put everyone else to sleep with Human Slayer.”

“The grand duke...” I mumbled. “Right. He is the one behind all this.”

“Indeed. And now it is time to wrap this up. But before that...” Lardon turned to me. “Let us reassess our cards. Human Slayer is fine as it is, but it would be much better with some revisions.”

“Revisions? Hmm... I can probably get it done. What have you got in mind?”

“Try to recall our current selves,” she instructed. “Now, tell me: What is the difference between Dragon Slayer and your Human Slayer?”

“Uhh...” I tried digging up my memories, but no dice—nothing came to mind.

Seeing me coming up short, Lardon huffed. “I figured as much, so I prepared something in advance. You called it the Liamnet, yes? Open it.”

“Oh, all right.”

I did as I was told and accessed the Liamnet—in the middle of enemy territory, no less, all thanks to Skylink—and saw that Sli had sent me a message. I opened it up, revealing a picture of Sli and Lime beside the three current dragons collapsed on the bed.

“Oh!” The answer was obvious now with the picture right in front of me. What Human Slayer lacked over Dragon Slayer was the apparition—a skeleton holding an hourglass looming over the victim.

“Your spell doesn’t have this, does it?” said Lardon.

“N-No... I didn’t think it was necessary.”

“Yes, that does sound like something you would decide. Could you add it in?”

“I could, but it won’t change for all the people you’ve already cast it on.”

“That is not a problem.”

“Mm-hmm!” Dyphon nodded. “We can just recast it on those humans down below.”

“Oh... To frighten the grand duke?” I asked.

“Exactly.”

I get it now. With that, I retrieved the Ancient Memoria from the four dragons and remade Human Slayer. I considered a few names—like Neohuman Slayer or Human Slayer 2—but I ultimately decided to just leave the spell name be. I’d heard that many existing spells had also been reworked and revised over the years.

In any case, I distributed the new Ancient Memoria back to the dragons. “That should do it.”

“Hmm... Perhaps we should test it out first.”

“Cast it on me, then.”

Lardon blinked. “Oh?”

“What? You sure?” Dyphon asked, stunned.

I shrugged. “I’m the only human around. And besides...” I looked at the dragons, who were all staring at me in shock. “It’s all good as long as you dispel it right away.”

The four dragons fell speechless before bursting into laughter all at once.

“Wh-What?” I blurted out, startled.

Lardon snickered. “Oh, lad. Human Slayer might not work on you, actually...”

“For sure. That mentality is hardly human.”

“Indeed. They would normally be too afraid to even risk death.”

“Huh? Um...” I looked around, feeling lost as the dragons chuckled and snickered among themselves.

Finally, Lardon shook her head and turned to me, her lips still quirked upward. “Well then, I shall use you as a guinea pig for a moment.”

I nodded. “Go for it.”

Lardon put on her ring-shaped Ancient Memoria, held her hand up facing me, and cast the spell. “Ah,” she said. “That’s too bad.”

Dyphon arched a brow. “Why? It works, doesn’t it?”

“Precisely. It appears he is still human after all.”

“Oh, that’s what you mean.”

Amid my fading consciousness, I still managed a smile at their lighthearted banter. As I fought against the effects of Human Slayer, instead of a skeleton, I found that another me had appeared by my side holding an hourglass. As the sand trickled down, so did his body slowly rot away.

“Oh?” Lardon’s gaze lit up in intrigue.

I grunted, forcing my eyes open. “Will this...do...?”

Thankfully, Lardon undid the spell right away. She watched the other me disappear with a pleased smirk on her face. “A splendid revision. I’ll give you 120 points for that.”

.228

“We shall now head down to negotiate,” Lardon announced, glancing at each of her fellow dragons. Once they all shrugged and nodded, showing they were all set to go, she turned her gaze to me. “We will handle the bulk of it. You need not know the details—simply instruct us to ‘do it’ whenever he declines.”

I nodded. “All right. But are you sure that’s all?”

“You are the Monster King. Your job is to stand behind your subjects like a grand and magnificent ruler.”

“Got it.” Whatever it was they were going to do, it sounded like they had everything figured out.

“Now, let us begin.”

At Lardon’s signal, I slowly descended from the sky as the dragons took formation around me, forming an imposing picture of a king and his escorts. The grand duke’s residence was directly below us. Are we just...landing on the roof, maybe?

Before I could consult the dragons, however, Paithon moved completely unprompted. She lazily swiped her hand in the air and sent the roof flying, revealing a room beneath—our new landing spot, which we swiftly made good use of.

“Wh-Who are you?!” yelled a man.

As instructed, I kept my mouth shut and instead took stock of my surroundings. The room was spacious and lavishly decorated, fit for the master of the mansion. Three women lay unconscious atop the enormous bed while a middle-aged man stood beside them—he was the one who just yelled at us.

“You are in the presence of His Majesty the King, Liam-Lardon,” said Lardon, her voice much deeper and more imposing than usual.

Her mention of “Liam-Lardon” earned a subtle twitch of the eye from the other dragons, but thankfully, before anything could happen, the middle-aged man exclaimed, “Th-The Monster King himself?!”

The air in the room instantly grew tense. I figured this was hardly the time to be leisurely looking around, so my gaze drifted to the man, lips still pursed.

Lardon continued, “I take it you are the grand duke of Parta, Tristan Rutherford, yes?”

“Monster! How dare you speak my name with your filthy mouth!”

“Ah. It seems I am correct. Then I have a message for you from my master, King Liam: Dispel Dragon Slayer right this instant.”

“What nonsense! A monster dares to order me around?!”

Instead of responding, Lardon just quietly glanced my way.

Oh... Oh, right! She’d told me to keep quiet, but also to instruct them to “do it” if we were declined. I shifted my gaze to the dragon closest to me—Paithon.

“Do it.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Paithon was also speaking differently than usual—her tone was respectful and polite. Her military uniform fluttered behind her as she slowly made her way to the large bed.

“Stay back, monster! What are you—” Grand Duke Tristan reached out to grab Paithon, but a single glare over the shoulder was enough to freeze him in place.

Unhindered, Paithon reached the bedside and raised her hand. Her ring-shaped Ancient Memoria glistened under the light as she muttered, “Human Slayer.” Shadow replicas of the three women appeared by their sides, holding hourglasses and rotting away as the sand trickled down.

“Samantha! Mary! Carol!” Tristan cried.

In actuality, nothing had changed—all Paithon had done was recast Human Slayer on them. But with the time now ticking visibly before the grand duke’s eyes, panic washed over his expression.

“Once again,” Lardon said, “my master demands you dispel Dragon Slayer.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! You dispel what you just cast on my wives!”

I didn’t need a cue the second time. “Dyphon.”

The previous Dyphon blasted the wall to the next room, revealing a well-dressed young boy and girl collapsed on a bed. She cast the new version of Human Slayer on them, adding another two rotting replicas to the room.

“Lily! Roy! Y-You dare... Do you think you’ll get away with this?!”

“Heed my master’s demand,” Lardon repeated. “Dispel Dragon Slayer.”

“A-Absolutely not! I will never—”

“Dyphon.” For the third time, we didn’t even need to wait for him to finish.

The eldest Dyphon nodded and flew into the air. As her uniform danced with the wind, she cast Human Slayer, its light stretching over the mansion.

“Wh-What are you... No!” Tristan scrambled to the window, clutching the windowsill as he looked outside. “E-Everyone in the mansion...”

I didn’t have to see to know what was going on. First this room, then the room next door, and now... The eldest Dyphon must have cast Human Slayer over the entire mansion. The sight left Tristan speechless and trembling.

“Heed my master’s demands.”

Tristan flinched as Lardon’s cold voice rang through the air once more.

“Dispel Dragon Slayer, surrender, and offer us a hostage.”

“A hostage?!” he shrieked, his brewing fear boiling back into anger. “Wh-What are you saying?! I cannot do that—there’s no way!”

Frankly, I was just as shocked as he was, but I decided to set my questions aside. Lardon was looking my way—that could only mean one thing.

“Lardon.”

“As you wish.”

Lardon took to the sky as well, past the broken ceiling and farther up than the eldest Dyphon, before transforming into her dragon form. Tristan let out a miserable yelp as Lardon’s enormous figure drenched the room in a looming shadow. Then a huge magic circle expanded from her body—and it went without saying what spell it was for. The blinding light of Human Slayer radiated all over the city.

Tristan watched helplessly, his trembling legs finally giving out.

By now, even I could piece together what was going on. Basically, the dragons were expanding the range of Human Slayer each time Tristan turned them down. They were making him watch as each word out of his mouth produced more and more victims in his own nation—and it was working.

“Heed my master’s demands.”

Lardon’s voice boomed from the sky, repeating the same demand for the fourth time. Finally, Tristan responded not with anger or denial, but with a pallid expression of pure, unadulterated fear.

.229

“Okay, okay! I agree!” Tristan cried. When Lardon showed no reaction, the desperation on his face grew, and he whipped his face to the rest of us who were still in the room. “Please, just stop it already! P-Please!”

The other dragons all looked my way. Oh? Do I get the final say?

Tristan followed their gazes and, with a gasp, practically threw himself to the ground before me. “Please! I’ll do anything!”

I get it now. The dragons were probably trying to drill into Tristan that I was the authority figure here.

“Hmm... All right,” I murmured, not to Tristan but toward the sky. “Come back, Lardon.”

My voice should have only been loud enough for Tristan and the other dragons to hear, but Lardon swiftly complied and descended from the sky. Needless to say, her lack of reaction earlier wasn’t because she couldn’t hear Tristan—after all, she was a dragon. She’d simply ignored him as part of the intimidation tactic.

Lardon transformed back to her human form, still dressed in her uniform, and returned to my side with a neutral expression, like a retainer escorting their lord. The gesture was clear as day for me, so of course Tristan had picked up on it too. Even though the divine dragon had descended from the sky, he remained prostrated on the ground facing me.

So, uh...what now? I wasn’t told what would happen after this point. I glanced at the dragons, but they said nothing. Does that mean I can do as I please from here on?

Our objective was to save the three current dragons. How we achieved it didn’t matter, as long as they were safe in the end. So, given that there were no new instructions, I decided to take the reins and steer us toward our final goal.

“Dispel Dragon Slayer,” I demanded.

“O-Okay. But...”

“Hmm?”

“N-No, wait! I’m not saying I won’t do it!” Tristan jerked his head up and flailed his arms in a panic. Anything he said and did now could risk the lives of his loved ones, so the reaction was understandable. “It’s just—the spell cast on the dragons needed to be such a large scale... This place— It couldn’t have been done here!”

“Ah, I see.” That made sense. There was no way a dragon-slaying spell would have a simple setup. In fact, I’d be more surprised if it was anywhere near as simple as Human Slayer. “Lead the way, then,” I said.

“Okay—”

“Ah, but before that,” Lardon cut in, swiping her hand through the air as if shooing away a fly.

The gesture was so casual, yet it carried with it a spell that coiled around Tristan’s family. Half of the sand in their hourglasses fell to the bottom, and the figures holding them looked much more rotten than before.

Ah. She sped up the process.

“Ahh! Wh-What are you doing?!” Tristan wailed.

“Rest assured, they still have plenty of time...as long as you cooperate.”

“N-No...” Color drained from Tristan’s face.

As Lardon said, there was still quite a while before the time limit—probably one full day, in fact, judging by the hourglass and the condition of the rotting figures. But seeing Tristan’s horrified expression, I gathered that he must have been planning to outmaneuver us somehow. Lardon had effectively sealed off that possibility.

Clever as always, I mused. Whether in this life or the last, Lardon was impressively sharp-witted.

“P-Please! I just—”

“Stop dawdling,” Dyphon drawled as she shifted into her dragon form and grabbed Tristan between her ironlike claws. “Just show us the way already. Unless you don’t want us to make it back in time?”

“Ugh... Fine.” Tristan hung his head in defeat.

I watched in awe as I realized that her transformation, too, must have been yet another intimidation tactic.

Our group descended by a river delta near the city. At the center of the junction where the river met the lake was a platform that looked like an altar, and on it was a large crystal.

I turned to Tristan—still held within Dyphon’s clutches—and asked, “What’s that?”

“A manastone,” he answered. “We looked for the purest.”

My eyebrows shot up. “A bloodsoul? I didn’t know they got so big...”

Manastones—or bloodsouls, as they were also known—formed when mana residue gathered and crystallized. Many impurities and residues must have flowed toward this river delta, forming this particular stone. I’d seen a lot of bloodsouls, but this was my first time seeing one so huge.

“Why did you use this?”

“A single human’s mana cannot power a spell meant to be cast on the three ancient dragons, so we used this to gather the vast amount we needed.”

“Ohhh...” Right, of course. Dragon Slayer was meant to be a surefire way of killing the divine dragons. Against such powerful beings, obviously they needed just as much mana to contest—hardly anything a single mage could supply.

“Do you get it now? We don’t have enough time to fill it up! So please, my family—give them more time!” Tristan begged.

However, I ignored his cries and approached the bloodsoul. “You’re saying we just have to fill this up with mana, right?”

“Yes! And since that will take too long—”

“Then there’s no problem. Another Dimension!”

With my new spell, I opened a rift to another world and was greeted with a familiar starry sky. As per usual, a meteorite soon came flying my way and turned into a torrent of mana.

All this mana would be going into the huge bloodsoul this time, so I didn’t have to use Time Stop—all I had to do was guide it toward the stone. The bloodsoul began to shine as mana filled it. Once it was all packed in there, I reached out and set my hand on the stone’s surface.

Hmm... That filled it up to half. Feels like it’ll be full after one more object... Maybe two, depending on the size. I withdrew my hand and turned to Tristan. “We’ll make it back in time. No worries.”

Tristan gawked at me in utter disbelief, as if he’d just witnessed the impossible.

.230

Later, I noticed something else on a course toward the rift—it was metallic, clearly man-made, though I couldn’t even begin to imagine how it had been crafted. It had wings like a bird, but they were flat and rectangular, and the surface was shining bizarrely.

What is that?

“That’s called a space probe,” said the eldest Dyphon, as if she’d read my mind.

“A space...what?”

“Probe. Those winglike structures receive sunlight to produce the power of lightning.”

“Huh? It turns sunlight into lightning?”

“Yes. It runs on the power of lightning, like most things do on the other side.”

“Seriously...?” I tried to make sense of that. I could understand powering things with mana or even converting mana into other kinds of energy—heck, I could even come up with a few dozen ways on the spot. But with lightning? How does that even work?

Dyphon huffed. “No point in thinking about it, is there?”

“Oh... You’re right!”

That was a pretty pointless train of thought. The other world probably worked differently from ours, so my logic wouldn’t apply there. It drew my curiosity because it felt fundamentally similar to magic, but I had no time for idle musings. Right now, my number one objective was to secure more mana to dispel Dragon Slayer.

I turned my attention back to the incoming object—it was flying in a straight line, but not entirely toward my rift. So, I cast Another Dimension again to expand the door-sized hole—

“Ugh!”

—but an immense pressure immediately seized my body. I felt like I was being squeezed from all directions. I could even hear my bones creaking.

“You good?” asked Dyphon.

I managed a strained smile, though my brows remained furrowed in pain. “I’m okay... It’s just like stretching rubber over your skin.” It was an analogy I could only make after becoming Liam and getting to feel rubber, among other luxury materials, for the first time.

Dyphon hummed. “No idea what rubber feels like, but I guess you’re fine.”

“Yeah...”

I’m fine... I’m fine. Yes, right now...I need to be fine.

Like rubber, the rift wanted to snap back the more I stretched it, so I had no choice but to push back with more force. I took a deep breath to clear my mind as I continued maintaining the expanded rift.

At last, the man-made object hurtled through the opening while grazing the sides. Right as it disintegrated into mana, I cast Time Stop—and as I’d expected, the expanded rift froze in place and the squeezing pressure around me disappeared.

“Urgh...!”

But while the pressure eased on one end, it increased on another. This man-made space probe contained far more mana than I’d assumed—quantified, I’d say my expectations were an entire digit off. I felt like my stomach was going to burst just trying to digest it all, and this was already with time stopped.

“But this...is great,” I rasped out as my lips quirked up into a smirk. After all, to dispel the magic that was massive enough to pin down all three ancient dragons, I needed all the mana I could get.

“Lardon... Dyphon... Paithon...”

I muttered their names under my breath, reminding myself of what I still needed to do—of why I needed to make this mana my own, even at the cost of bearing with this flesh-rending pain.

I snapped my eyes wide open. From here on out, it would be a battle against time.

Ironically, Time Stop also placed me on a time limit due to the constant mana consumption. I thought about dispelling it but decided against it—it was still worth keeping time frozen despite the costs. With that, I faced the gigantic bloodsoul, held up my hand, and unleashed all the mana I’d absorbed from the space probe. The bloodsoul reacted, activating Dragon Slayer.

“Release!”

Oftentimes, a spell reflected the intentions of whoever made it. Spells with time limits—such as Human Slayer and Dragon Slayer—were often used in negotiations and deals, so a means of dispelling it was a necessary accompaniment. Of course, it usually cost more mana to dispel than to cast...but that was no longer an issue for me.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

With the space probe’s immense mana, I managed to complete the final step in dispelling Dragon Slayer. Gradually, specks of light lit up this world I’d frozen, until finally, time resumed its course.

.231

KABOOM!!!

The gigantic manastone shook violently, rattling the air with a loud boom before finally toppling off the altar where it stood. Yelping, Tristan pressed his hands over his ears and dove for the ground—a bit of an overreaction if you asked me, but I ignored him and redirected my attention to the fallen manastone.

When time resumed, I felt the clashing of two immense forces: Dragon Slayer and my efforts to dispel it. The clash was so fierce that it sent a shock wave blasting through the air until the two powers finally canceled each other out. The moment I felt Dragon Slayer had been dispelled, my expression melted with relief and my lips loosened into a smile.

“Oh, wait!” My eyes darted to the four dragons. “Are the three of them okay?” I knew the spell had been shut down, but I had no idea how the current dragons were doing.

Lardon grinned. “Rest assured, they are doing well.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” said Dyphon. “I’d even say they’re doing too well.”

Knowing I could trust their word for it, I placed my hand on my chest and let out a deep sigh. With that out of the way, it was time to shift gears—back to Tristan.

What now? Since we’ve dispelled Dragon Slayer, the next step should be to dispel Human Slayer... I cast a glance at the dragons—Lardon, in particular—thinking they might have some instructions for me, but none of them spoke up. The past Dyphon was even grinning, for some reason.

Now, these dragons were tens, maybe even hundreds of times smarter than me; I found it hard to believe they didn’t have the next step in mind, especially not when I was already at the point of wondering what that step was. They must have been maintaining their silence on purpose—so I decided to just follow suit. By this point, it was practically a personal rule of mine to always heed others’ advice, especially the dragons’, when it came to matters outside magic.

I waited silently to see if the dragons would make a move, but Tristan beat them to the punch. He peered up at me with a gasp. “I-It’s dispelled now, yes?”

I didn’t want to talk too much, given the lack of instructions from the dragons, so I simply hummed in response.

“Th-Then please! My wives, a-and my children...!”

They still aren’t saying anything. I guess I can dispel it, then? I mean, that was our agreement... Oh, wait! It just came to me—the dragons had to split up to cast Human Slayer on nearly all the humans in this country, so naturally, dispelling it would take quite a bit of effort too... Could it be that they’re waiting for my orders? To keep up the performance of subservience?

Before I could put my theory to the test, however, an immense torrent of energy suddenly burst forth from the sky behind me.

I was struck by a surge of dread. Spinning around, I found nothing but empty sky—until a few seconds later, when a single dragon shot up into view, roaring out toward the heavens. Its immense size was evident from a distance, and its tremendous roar shook the earth.

“Wh-What?!” All the color drained from Tristan’s face. He fell to the ground and scrambled over to me with bloodshot eyes. “This isn’t what we agreed on!”

Frankly, I was just as frazzled as he was. I’d seen that dragon before—that was the current Paithon. Seeking answers, I turned to the dragons beside me. “Uh... That’s Paithon, isn’t it? What’s going on?”

Lardon smirked. “A natural reaction, I would say.”

“She’s snapped,” said the past Dyphon.

I looked between them in confusion. “What?”

“Imagine you were hit with a malicious spell that almost killed you,” the past Paithon added. “Then you survive and regain consciousness. How would you feel then?”

“Oh...” I winced. “Right... Of course she’d snap.”

Now I understood—and yes, that was a very natural reaction. They lacked attachment to life because of their capacity for rebirth, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t get mad when someone tried to kill them.

I faced Tristan and shrugged. “You heard them—she’s snapped.”

Tristan bit his lip. The dragons might be his enemies, but he couldn’t refute such simple logic: Anyone would be furious at any attempt made on their life.

“P-Please, stop her! She’s going to— Ahhh!”

Tristan crossed his arms in front of his face just in time for Paithon to unleash a particularly mighty roar, powerful enough to shave off part of a nearby mountain. She was like a walking, living natural disaster. At this rate, I feared she might just flatten the entire mountain range. Tristan’s pleas aside, we probably should stop her anyway.

“How do we stop her?” I asked the dragons.

“How to snap someone back to their senses, you ask? It’s simple,” said Lardon.

Dyphon nodded. “Just give them a good slap to the face.”

“Will that...really work?” I frowned, unsure.

She smirked. “Like a charm.”

“Oookay...” I nodded, forcing myself to agree. Bit of a brute-force solution, but, well, I guess I get the idea... And since they vouched for it, I supposed it was worth a shot.

I took a deep breath and held out my right hand.

“Amelia Emilia Claudia...”

The names of my three favorite songstresses amplified my mana and bumped up the maximum number of spells I could multicast. As usual, it took me but a moment to repeat the process of trial and error to craft a new spell, until finally...

“Dragon Buster!”

A jet-black beam of light shot from my outstretched hand and headed straight for Paithon up in the sky.

.232

Like nails over glass, the jet-black beam stretched across the sky with such a painfully grating screech, even I had to cover my ears—but whatever sound this new spell produced didn’t matter, as long as it did what I needed it to do.

Unfortunately, Dragon Buster missed. Warned by the deafening noise, Paithon whirled around at the last second, and the beam shot right past her.

“Ugh... Again!”

I mustered my mana for a second try, sending another pitch-black beam zooming through the sky. The sound was just as grating as the first—and once again, Paithon managed to get out of the way.

Before I could make a third attempt, Paithon threw her large dragon head back and began to suck in a huge breath, clearly to spew something out.

It’s coming!

My body tensed as I braced myself for the impending attack. But when Paithon threw her head forward, what came out of her maw was some sort of fog. It looked worlds softer and gentler than whatever huge fireball or blazing beam I’d been subconsciously expecting, but it still put me on edge.

Then it struck me why—this was Paithon, a dragon who inadvertently rendered everything around her unconscious with the fog she leaked in her sleep.

Alarm bells instantly rang in my head. If the fog she exuded while asleep was that deadly, then what of the fog she spewed out as an attack? While her breath had turned out looking much tamer than I’d expected, it didn’t change the fact that it meant trouble.

“Mistral!”

I summoned a gale and blew the fog away—but not even a second later, I realized I’d messed up. As it turned out, fighting a dragon’s breath with wind was a bad idea. Paithon’s fog was pushed back for a moment, sure, but the clashing winds eventually swirled together and formed an even stronger storm hurtling my way.

Hissing out a curse, I took off into the sky and avoided the storm by just a hair’s breadth, yet that wasn’t the end—Paithon read my moves and appeared right before my eyes in a flash. Before I could even blink, she whirled around and whipped her tail at me.

“Shield!”

By reflex, I managed to put up an Absolute Force Shield, which spared me from the brunt of her tail whip but not from the shock wave it produced. I went flying backward. A blessing in disguise, as it gave me time to cast another spell in the air.

Third time’s the charm! I thought as I gave Dragon Buster another try. I’d modeled this spell from Dragon Slayer; it was an attack meant to be especially effective against dragons. However, Paithon once again dodged with a spin, her smooth movements a stark contrast to the grating screech unleashed by the beam.

I never thought she’d be so agile...but I guess it suits her? Paithon often spent her days like a leaf on the wind, so maybe I should’ve expected her to be this light-footed in battle.

Suddenly, Paithon unleashed another gush of fog. Having learned my lesson, I simply leaped out of the way with flight magic. The fog harmlessly hit the ground—but then it billowed outward, swallowing up the surroundings.

So it’ll spread even without a gale... Right, of course. That is how fog and smoke work. Worse yet, it didn’t even disperse like ordinary magic would; the fog lingered, spreading to about a third of the area around the gigantic bloodsoul.

“Power Missile!” I tried shooting at the ground, but no dice. I gave up trying to disperse the fog and just focused on Paithon.

She whipped her tail at me once more, spewed out some more fog, then swung her tail again, over and over. Her movements were simple and repetitive like a wild beast’s—understandable, as she’d gone off the handle—but that also made her even harder to deal with.

With none of my attacks landing, nothing stopped Paithon from letting her fog loose. Slowly but surely it enveloped the area, and in time, I found myself trapped within a huge cage of fog. Normally, I’d have no problems breathing it in, but I wouldn’t be surprised if this fog could put me to sleep the moment I so much as touched it. I’d expect no less of Paithon, and besides, if this was my magic, I’d make it work that way too.

In any case, I was essentially cornered. I cast a glance at the four dragons flying overhead—none of them were making a move. I had no idea why, but this just meant I had to handle this situation myself.

It was time for a little test.

I fired a power missile at Paithon, but she didn’t even bother to dodge and took it head-on. She emerged completely unscathed.

Next, I tried eleven rounds. Again, Paithon didn’t dodge—she simply charged straight into the barrage before unleashing another tail swipe, which I avoided by flying higher up into the sky.

Finally, I unleashed Dragon Buster. This time, Paithon moved out of the way.

There’s no mistaking it—she’s consciously dodging Dragon Buster. She knows it’s dangerous! That explained why I couldn’t hit her—Paithon wasn’t so weak as to get hit by an attack when she was being especially cautious. On anyone else, I might manage to land a hit eventually, but the ancient dragons were on a completely different level.

“Then how’s this? Contract Summoning: Liam!”

My clone appeared beside me. We locked eyes and nodded firmly, no words needed. He charged in and engaged in close-quarters combat with Paithon—to buy me time, of course.

“Amelia Emilia Claudia...” I formed a strong image in my mind and swiftly remade my spell. “Dragon Buster!”

With a much louder screech than before, the beam shot through the air and headed straight for Paithon and my clone. Paithon swiftly moved away, leaving my clone to be swallowed by the beam—or so he should have been.

The beam, ramrod straight till then, unleashed a much shriller cry as it curved toward Paithon. My new-and-improved Dragon Buster, now capable of turning and homing on its target, crashed into Paithon.

A tremendous explosion ensued, shaking the earth and dispersing the lingering fog.

.233

I held my breath as I watched the smoke cloud slowly clear up, until I could just about make out a silhouette—Paithon, completely unscathed.

I gulped. It didn’t work?

As I braced myself for another round, however, the enormous dragon gradually shrank into a very familiar human girl. She slowly turned toward me and mumbled, “You saved me?”

“Are you okay?” I blurted out. Oh, whoops. Answered her question with a question... A little awkward, I guessed, but I just couldn’t help it. Thankfully, Paithon simply nodded in response.

“Whew... I’m glad you’re feeling better now.” Naturally, I was referring to both her being free of Dragon Slayer and having calmed down from her rampage.

“Thank you...for saving me.”

“I’m just glad everything turned out fine. Are you sure you’re okay, though? Now’s not the time to hold back. If anything feels off...”

“I’m okay. But...”

“But...?”

“I’m sleepy...”

“Oh...” That caught me off guard a bit, but when I thought about it, this was just Paithon being Paithon. Looks like she really is back to normal. “Wanna sleep, then?”

“Pillow,” she mumbled. “Need my pillow.”

“Oh... Sure.”

I summoned my item box and took out one of the many pillows I’d prepared just for her. Paithon quietly reached out and grabbed it, but she made no move to take it from my hands. We ended up staring at one another, both our hands on her pillow.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

Paithon hung her head. “Mmm... Thank you.”

“Huh? Oh, uh... Sure thing. You already said that, though.” Why is she thanking me again?

I looked down at Paithon with a curious arch of my brow, and she gazed up at me in return. She averted her eyes first; for some reason, her cheeks were a little flushed.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked again.

Paithon frowned. Instead of answering my question, she turned away from me and plopped onto the ground with the pillow now in her arms. “Good night,” she mumbled. She was fast asleep not even a second later.

“What was that about?” It was too late to ask her, so my question just aimlessly spilled from my lips.

“You’ll understand someday,” came a voice from behind. Turning around, I found four dragons—all the past ones, with the past Paithon in the lead—descending from the sky.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked her as they landed in front of me. She was still Paithon in a way, and she spoke like she knew what had just happened.

“Exactly what I said.” She huffed. “As you are now, you wouldn’t understand even if I explained it.”

“Oh...” I nodded and decided to drop it. Whatever it was, it probably wasn’t related to magic in any way. It’d just go over my head.

“Now, then... Shall we?” Paithon glanced at the other dragons, who all nodded in understanding.

“We will now retread this land to dispel Human Slayer,” said Lardon.

“Great. Need help?”

Lardon smirked. “No.”

“Ha ha... Right, of course. I shouldn’t have bothered asking.”

“Indeed, you shouldn’t have.”

“We’ll disappear once we’re done,” Dyphon added.

“What?” My eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

“The dead should stop prancing around front and center, don’t you think?”

“But—”

“It appears you haven’t noticed, lad, that you are pushing yourself to maintain our forms,” said Lardon. “Your adrenaline will soon die down.”

“Oh...” After her reminder, it felt like my body suddenly got a whole lot heavier. I winced, holding back the pressure with a grunt.

Lardon snickered. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have told you.”

“N-No, I’m fine...”

“It’s no use. It’s just like breathing,” Dyphon said.

“What? Breathing?”

“Yep. You can breathe involuntarily—until you end up thinking about it. Then you can’t help but notice it until something big distracts you.”

“Ah...” She was right. From the moment she opened up that spatial rift, my mind was distracted from maintaining their forms. But now that I’d remembered, there was no going back. Just like breathing, it was hard—or just impossible—to consciously make yourself breathe involuntarily again.

“Farewell, then.”

“Lardon...”

“Hmph. Fret not. This is not our final parting,” she said with a smirk. “We will emerge again if our current selves ever fall into a similar predicament.”

The other dragons chuckled in agreement.

“Sounds good to me.”

“If you really want us to show up, you’ll have to fight our current selves.”

“Domestic abuse is a big no-no. We’d have to come out to retaliate.”

Lardon huffed lightly. “In any case, if you wish to meet again, you will have to get stronger.”

With that lighthearted banter, the dragons slowly floated up into the air and returned to their dragon forms before scattering one by one into the distance. Lardon was the last to leave—she grabbed Tristan in her claws and said, “I’ll take this one,” before disappearing beyond the horizon as well.

Now, I was left alone with the current Paithon, still sleeping on the ground all snuggled up with her pillow. The sudden disappearance of the lively company, as well as the looming threat of death, unraveled my nerves completely. But somehow, it also felt like a gaping hole had been left in my chest.

But not for long.

“Phew...”

“Lardon!”

A voice echoed in my mind, one much more familiar to me than the one I’d heard just moments ago. Lardon—the current Lardon—was finally back inside my body!

.234

In a burst of excitement, I looked to the sky. “You’re back!”

“I am. It appears you have been through a lot.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. How would I not be, when that one is fit as a fiddle?”

“‘That one’...? Oh, you mean Paithon.”

This familiar voice, the subtle jests, and even the minute quirks in her speech... It felt like a year since I’d last spoken with Lardon, even though it had only been a bit over a day. I had been with her past self all this while, but they were still different individuals in the end. It was the current Lardon I’d grown familiar with, and that was how I knew, even though I could only hear her voice, that she was looking at the girl sleeping soundly on the ground.

Lardon sighed. “Allow me to say my thanks.”

“What?”

“Why so surprised? You saved my life.”

“Oh, well... I didn’t really do much.”

“Powerful as we dragons may be, it is the undeniable truth that we were saved by your efforts this time.”

“Oh, uh... I guess so,” I murmured, feeling a little bashful. Lardon was a little special—she was the very first dragon I met, as well as the one who’d spent the most time with me. Naturally, hearing her thank me so openly was a little embarrassing.

“Accept it while you can. You won’t hear it a lot.”

Well, since she insisted... “All right. I will.”

“Now then, I would like to be caught up on the situation.”

“Sure. Want me to give you a quick rundown?”

“Allow me to read your memories instead. That would be quicker.”

“What? You can do that?”

“Yes, because I’ve spent so long inside you.”

“Wow... Okay. Anything I should do?”

“Just bear with it. This will feel a little odd.”

“Got it.” Reading my memories, huh? I had no idea how that’d work, but after everything I just went through, having to bear with some weird sensation was no big deal.

A moment later, the strange sensation hit me—like having a hand stuck right into my chest. I’d never experienced such a thing, of course, but that was what it felt like. Truthfully, it was a bit icky, but I did agree to bear with it, and besides, it was over in ten seconds.

“Hmm... I see now,” Lardon muttered as the sensation faded from my chest.

“You got everything?”

“From start to finish, yes. And...” She chuckled. “I pity the monsters.”

“Huh?” Out of everything, that was not what I was expecting her to comment on. “What do you mean?”

“I am referring to your familiars,” she clarified. “Under your orders, they all gathered and charged into enemy territory to avenge us, yes?”

“Well, yeah.” I thought back to the time right after the dragons collapsed, when I ordered Gai, Chris, and Reina to gather all our forces and charge into Parta. That feels like ages ago already...

“I imagine being given such a grand order had boosted their morale quite a bit. They adore you, after all.”

“Uh-huh...” I’m a little lost... I mean, I understood what she was saying, but not where she was going with it.

“As for you, giving that order was the obvious choice at the time, but as you always do, you devised an even better plan by coming up with a new spell,” she said in amusement. “This means the army had lost the opportunity to prove useful to their beloved master.”

“Oh...” I hadn’t thought about that. So many things had happened all at once... After crafting Human Slayer, we even went straight to Grand Duke Tristan and settled the whole thing. Lardon was right—the others had lost their chance to shine. “Uh... I feel kinda bad now.”

“No matter. Your familiars may feel down for a while, but they should cheer up once you explain the sequence of events to them.”

“Hmm? Why?”

“You’ve proven that you possess the power to overturn an entire war. Nothing would please them more.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okay... I’ll share the story with them later, then.” If Lardon said so, then I might as well. “So, uh... What now? Can we just pack up and call it a day?” We’d successfully pressured Tristan into dispelling Dragon Slayer. That meant everything was over, right?

“You are mistaken,” Lardon rebutted, catching me off guard. “Nothing is over. Not when Parta stabbed us in the back.”

“Oh, right... So what do we do?”

Lardon hummed, and I could sense her fall into thought—for no longer than five seconds, though. “For the next three days...you will do nothing.”

“Nothing? Why?”

“Because it is my life they targeted,” she replied. “I am quite irked—as I am sure the other one is as well.”

“The other... Oh, Dyphon.” I chuckled dryly. “Yeah, she’d definitely be mad.” Where Paithon was mellow and carefree and Lardon mature and wise, in contrast, Dyphon was zealous and straightforward. If I had to pick which of them would snap, I’d place my bets on her.

“We need them to pay.”

“Then I’ll also—”

“I am quite irked,” Lardon repeated.

“Oh... Uh, right.” Why do I get the feeling she’s more than just “quite” irked...?

“They shall learn never to attempt such foolery again. And I plan to teach them so...diplomatically.”

“Diplomatically... Uhh, yeah. Sorry, can’t help there.”

Lardon chuckled, and it sounded genuine too. Strange for someone so mad just a second ago. “Hence why I said you need not do anything.”

“Okay... Does this mean I can just do some magic research?”

“Go ahead.” Lardon hummed. “It sounds like you have something specific in mind.”

“You see, I made this spell called Dragon Buster... Oh, wait! You read my memories, so you know this already.” I sheepishly cleared my throat. “Anyway, it’s way easier to use than Dragon Slayer since it’s an ordinary attack, not some grand finisher, so I feel like there’s a lot I can expand on.”

Lardon chuckled. For some reason, she sounded especially amused.

“Hmm? What is it?”

“Oh, I just recalled the difference between the talented and a genius,” she mused. “A talented artist, for example, would succeed in life by gaining fame, wealth, and status beyond what the ordinary could achieve. They live in a different world, so to speak.”

“Uh-huh... So, what about geniuses?”

“A genius would choose not to indulge in luxury, but instead sow seeds for the future. True geniuses are not one-hit wonders—they bring about more success stories in the world.”

Now that I thought about it, I’d seen plenty of the opposite sorts myself in my past life. Those who would indulge in every possible luxury the moment they hit the jackpot once, then drop to rock bottom within a few years. I guessed Lardon was trying to say that those who could reach greater heights past that first success were in a different league.

“Hmm... Geniuses, huh...?” I mumbled thoughtfully.

“I am talking about you.”

Her words sent me reeling. “Uh?”

.235

“Er... Me?” Weren’t we talking about artists...?

For a second, I thought she was teasing me, but Lardon never said things for no reason, and if she did, there had to be some meaning behind it...but I just couldn’t figure out what. All that was left was to ask her directly.

“What do you mean?”

“You see, any other human would have become bloated with arrogance the moment they attained that ring.”

“What ring?”

“The one you received early on, which contains many spells and magic.”

“Oh, this?” I opened up my item box and took out the Ancient Memoria my teacher gave me. “This would make people...arrogant?”

“For it contains power beyond human measure. Possessing that ring is akin to attaining a one-in-a-thousand—no, one-in-ten-thousand kind of talent,” she explained. “Whoever finds such immense power in their hands would grow prideful, pretentious, and condescending. Every human I know, excluding one, is like that.”

“Hmm...” I felt like I wasn’t getting it. I knew how powerful Ancient Memoria were, but... “Isn’t that such a waste, though? You said they become arrogant—that means they would stop seeking improvement, right?”

“Indeed.”

“Then yeah, it is such a waste.” I looked at the ring, recalling the day I received it like it was just yesterday. “Magic creates so many possibilities... How could you just stop there?”

“And I am saying that is how a genius thinks.”

“Oh... Uh, okay.” I nodded slowly. I understood what Lardon was trying to say, but at the same time, I didn’t think you needed to be a genius to have that mindset. Why would anyone refuse the chance to learn more about the world and to reach greater heights?

Lardon chuckled. “You struggle with the strangest things.”

“Huh? But, I mean...”

“What is the problem? I’ve said nothing about you as a person just yet—I am simply saying you are a magic genius. Is this anything new, coming from me?”

“Ah... That’s true.” She always gave me advice, but hardly when it came to magic. In other words, she acknowledged my magic prowess—and naturally, I could trust her judgment.

“Good for you, hmm? Keep furthering your craft as you always have.”

“Yeah. I will.”

“In any case, you may entrust me with the negotiations.”

“I know. Unlike me, you’re a genius at everything.”

“Oh? Quite the smooth talker, hmm?” Lardon laughed brightly.

In Magic City Liam, three girls gathered around the executive round table in the palace. One was Scarlet, a princess who came under Liam’s rule by her own will. Another was a girl in a maid uniform—Reina, a pixie-turned-elf who now served as one of Liam’s three monster executives. The last was a young girl with the air of an elder—Lardon, known in human legends as the divine dragon.

“Let us get right down to business,” Lardon began. “I have been entrusted with matters regarding Parta from this point forth.”

Reina nodded. “Understood.”

“It puts me at ease to know you are in command, Lord Lardon,” said Scarlet.

“As a dragon, I am unfamiliar with the intricacies of human politics. Hence, I will provide the general direction, and you two will concoct the finer details of the plan. Use my abilities as you see fit.”

Reina narrowed her eyes. “This must be quite the grand undertaking, then.”

“No. I am simply indulging in my hobby.”

Scarlet blinked. “Your...hobby?”

“Indeed. My first hobby in the past few centuries. I suppose that makes it ‘grand’ in its own way.”

“Could I ask you to elaborate, please?” Reina said.

Lardon nodded. “You see, the recent incident has spurred on that boy’s growth. Unlike my kind, humans grow amid adversity, and his growth was particularly remarkable.”

“I concur,” said Reina. “I am ashamed we couldn’t be of much help, but it is incredibly awe-inspiring that Master was able to settle the entire situation by himself.”

“Correct. Watching his growth—that is my hobby.”

“Ah. I understand.”

“In other words...” Scarlet hummed. “You wish to set up an adversity for Master... Is that right?”

“Very clever, lass. You are quick on the uptake; I was right to select you two for this discussion.”

“I-I am honored...” Scarlet replied, bashful but clearly overjoyed—a natural reaction for someone who revered the dragons as deeply as she did.

Reina, on the other hand, was not particularly devoted to Lardon—her loyalty lay with Liam alone. Hence, her expression was calm as she asked, “What exactly would you like us to do?”

“You will be holding talks of a ceasefire with the human nation soon, yes?”

“That is correct.”

“Corner them,” Lardon instructed darkly. “Corner them as much as you can with conditions so unjust, they would shed tears of blood as they begrudgingly—yet unavoidably—sign the agreement.”

Scarlet’s eyes grew wide. “B-But why?”

“When a losing nation is forced to accept harsh conditions, their anger will gradually fester and boil into a second war. I have seen this happen several times in my life.”

“Ah... Yes, there are indeed precedents.”

“More often than not, they become crazed and desperate, plagued by the memory of their humiliating loss. They fail to gauge the appropriate time to surrender and will instead fight to the bitter end,” Lardon explained. “That should serve as quite the adversity for him, no? I wish to see how he will grow when faced with a nation crazed for vengeance. What about you?”

Reina bowed deeply. “I understand. I shall proceed as you’ve instructed.”

Hesitation danced across Scarlet’s features for but a moment. For Liam, and for Lardon, she swiftly accepted the orders. “Very well. For you, Lord Lardon, and for my master, I shall give the Duchy of Parta the most bitter, agonizing taste of suffering.”

Scarlet and Reina looked at one another before nodding firmly.

.236

“Darling!”

Standing in the palace’s yard, I was just about to get into my magic when someone suddenly tackled me from the side, sending me tumbling to the ground. The impact had caught me completely off guard, but who had tackled me, I didn’t even need to look to know. “Oww... Dyphon?”

The girl’s pigtails swished back and forth as she nuzzled her face against my chest. “You saved me, didn’t you?”

“Oh, yeah. I did.”

“Oh, thank you, darling! Thank you, thank you! You’re my hero! I love you!”

“Are you feeling better now?”

“Of course! I’m so bursting with energy, I could wipe that country off the map right now!” She looked up at me with an ear-to-ear grin to contrast her chilling words.

“You don’t have to,” I muttered.

“Okay! If you say so!”

“Uh... Wait, really?” Well, someone’s surprisingly agreeable today... She had to be really mad at the Duchy of Parta and Grand Duke Tristan for what they did, so why would she drop her revenge just because I told her to?

Dyphon shrugged. “Who cares about those worms? I’m just happy that you saved my life!”

“Huh... Okay.”

“You know, darling...” Dyphon drew away from me. We both sat on the ground, staring at one another. “I’ve been reborn a few times and lived thousands of years...but this was the first time someone saved my life! I’m just so happy that my heart is racing!”

I nodded. Yeah, that doesn’t sound like the sort of thing a dragon would typically experience.

“Also, darling...” Dyphon smiled bashfully. “Can I...act like a human girl for a second?”

“Well, sure, but what does that—”

Before I could finish my question, Dyphon slowly brought her face close to mine. She could’ve moved much, much faster than I could see, but instead she steadily leaned closer—like the frail young girl that she looked like—and kissed me.

A short and chaste kiss—our lips touched for just a single breath before Dyphon pulled back with a giddy smile. “Short and sweet. Just like an ordinary girl would, right?”

“I guess so...” I honestly had no clue, but that seemed about right.

Dyphon giggled. “Is it weird? Our lips just touched for a bit, but it made me happier than the kind of kiss you do while making love.”

“Oh...” That, I really had no clue. I could understand giving your savior a light peck as thanks, but whether it felt better than the type of deep kiss you do while making love... Frankly, I had no idea.

“Hee hee...”

Still, Dyphon looked so happy, so I didn’t want to rain on her parade. In fact, seeing her so giddy made me want to do a bit more for her. Hmm, but what can I do...? I took a gander around, until what she said earlier—about acting like an ordinary girl—gave me an idea.

“Darling?”

Dyphon watched curiously as I stood and walked to the edge of the courtyard, lined with the flowers raised and cared for by the elven maids. I plucked one from the ground and tucked it behind Dyphon’s ear, like an accessory.

“A present,” I said. “For you.”

Dyphon’s hands flew up to her mouth. She trembled speechlessly for a moment before she threw herself over me, her excitement gushing forth in waves.

“Darling! Oh, darling! Thank you! I love it!” She squealed, over and over for some time, until she finished venting out her excitement and settled with a full-faced smile. “Oh, gosh! A present from my darling! I need to preserve this for eternity!”

“Huh? It’s not that big of a—”

“Should I use an arcane time spell? Or maybe permafrost and seal it? Ooh, choices, choices!”

“Wh-What...?”

In her excitement, Dyphon began brewing some shockingly overboard plans, but I supposed I shouldn’t be so surprised—that was just par for the course for her.

“No time to lose!” She cradled the flower between her hands like a precious and irreplaceable treasure, then flew off into the distance.

She came in like a storm and left just as quick. That’s Dyphon for you, I mused.

“Well... As long as she’s happy, I guess?” I mumbled to myself, a fond smile forming on my lips as I watched her figure disappear beyond the horizon. “I’d love to know how she ends up preserving it, though...” I should ask her when she comes back.

Just then, an idea struck me like lightning. I drew in a sharp breath, desperately hanging on to the sudden flash of inspiration. “Dyphon... Preserve... Dyphon... Preserve...” I mumbled, repeatedly turning over the two words in my head until the thought took solid form—until the mist cleared and left me with a clear vision.

“Dyphon—”

I cast Another Dimension and opened up a dimensional rift before me.

“—preserve.”

Then I summoned my item box—my spatial storage—and lined it up perfectly with the rift. Soon, a meteorite came flying my way and slid right into my item box. With bated breath and buzzing excitement, I reached into my item box—and there it was.

“It works!” I exclaimed, bursting in excitement.

I stored a whole meteorite in my item box!

.237

My fingers curled around the meteorite in my item box as I gradually converted it into mana. What was great about this was that I no longer needed to stop time myself—after all, time was already frozen within my item box.

Suddenly, an idea came to me. I raised my free hand and chanted, “Power Missile... Rapid fire!”

With one hand firing out the shots and the other continuously absorbing mana, I had no need to specify the number of rounds like I always did. Not to mention, now that I was no longer maintaining the past dragons’ forms, I was finally working on a full tank of mana again. Actually, scratch that—it was more than a full tank if I factored in this meteorite too.

With a quiet exhale, I internalized this new sensation and decided to change things up a bit.

Mana was stored in the body like water was in a tank. So far, I’d been pouring the “water” from the meteorite into the “tank”—my body—before scooping it back out...but that was one step too many, wasn’t it? Instead, I let the mana course straight through me, from my item box and smoothly into my spell, streamlining the whole process.

“Zero point one... Zero point two... Zero point three...”

At the same time, I worked on gauging the amount of mana flowing through me while using my tank as a reference. Were I to define my tank’s total capacity as “one,” I could measure the amount of mana I was releasing—a good practice, though I hadn’t thought to do this while I was preoccupied with the whole Parta issue—and lo and behold, the count eventually exceeded one. This meant that, depending on the size, a single meteorite could equate to more than my maximum mana capacity.

After some time, Dyphon descended from the sky and landed beside me. “I’m back,” she drawled, looking up at me curiously. “What’re you up to, darling?”

“Hey. I’m converting an object from the other world into mana... Well, I’m sure you don’t need me to explain.”

“What? You can do that? Wow!”

“Your past self taught me,” I told her, then filled her in on what had happened while she’d been out cold.

Dyphon listened eagerly, frequently cutting in with spirited gasps and eager praises. While she and her past selves had similar personalities—willful and frank—this Dyphon, staying true to her outward appearance, had a much more childish touch to her.

Once I finished explaining, I gave her a sheepish smile. “You’re praising me nonstop, but Dyphon, I learned this from you.”

“Well, yeah, but I never would’ve thought to do this with it,” she said, gesturing to my item box.

“Really?”

“Uh-huh! I mean, I’ve never had to worry about running out of mana!”

“Are you sure? Not even while fighting with Lardon?”

She latched on to me with a huff. “Now why would I ever run out of mana fighting her?”

She laced that “her” with an awful lot of disgust, I thought dryly. I guess I should’ve known this already, but they’re still a long way off from reconciliation... If they’re even making progress at all.

“Can’t you...” I clamped my mouth shut. “No, never mind.”

Dyphon must’ve figured out what I was going to say, but she kept her thoughts to herself. Amid the awkward silence, my rapid-firing spell died down, and I quietly lowered my hand.

“You’re really amazing, darling. Now you’ll never have to worry about running out of mana.”

“Hmm... I wouldn’t say that.”

She blinked. “Huh? Why not? I mean, you’ve got all those meteorites to use...”

“But I’d still be rendered powerless if I can’t use magic.”

“Why? Oh, is it because they’re still two separate spells? Just package them together, then. You’re good at that, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I’ll do that later. But that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“Combining Another Dimension and Item Box can recover my mana—but it’s basically still a spell, right?”

“Yeah, it’s... Oh!” As expected, Dyphon got it right away. She might have looked like a little girl, but she was still an ancient dragon.

“I’ll always run into situations where I can’t use magic,” I went on. “Maybe it’ll be sealed, or maybe I just won’t have enough mana to cast the spell... If any of those things happened, I’d still be helpless.”

“Why not just keep it open? You know, so you don’t have to cast it again.”

“But that’s kind of scary. I mean, what about my item box? A single meteorite contains more mana than my full capacity—who knows what’ll happen if I let the box swallow up dozens unchecked?”

“You’re worried it’ll explode?”

“It’s possible, isn’t it? I guess I could revise my item box, but...” I sighed and shook my head. “I’d like a definitive solution, not some temporary fix.”

My eyes fell as I racked my brain for ideas. I had no shortage of temporary fixes—heck, I could think of twenty on the spot—but that wasn’t what I wanted. The problem, though, was that I was looking for something outside my field of expertise—a solution that didn’t involve magic.

Dyphon hummed. “I have an idea.”

“What is it?”

“I hate to say this...but I can cooperate with them.”

“Them?” With the way she’s talking, that can only be... “You mean Lardon and Paithon?”

Dyphon pursed her lips and nodded. Her face said it all: She really, really, really didn’t want to, but for me, she would do it.

But what exactly does she have in mind...?

.238

“What’s your plan?” I asked Dyphon...only to get a sulky pout in response.

She brought it up, but now she doesn’t want to elaborate... Well, I couldn’t blame her. She and the other dragons were like cats and dogs—worse than, actually. She probably didn’t even want to bring up their names, much less talk about working with them, but that only made me all the more curious. Just what was this idea of hers?

“How will the three of you help?” I pressed.

“Plus you, darling. You’re part of this too.”

“Me too?”

“Mm-hmm. You too... That’s right, it’s not just us three,” Dyphon muttered as if to comfort herself, before putting on a smile once more. “So let’s say you’ve packaged Another Dimension and Item Box into one spell—well then, you just have to teach it to us!”

“What? But you don’t need more mana, do you?”

“No, no. I mean teach it to us so we can use it for you.”

“Oh... Then you’ll use the spell, but the mana goes to me?”

“Exactly!” Dyphon bobbed her head and beamed widely. She looked just like an innocent little girl whenever we weren’t talking about Lardon and Paithon.

“Well, I get the idea, but why?”

“You’re worried about ending up unable to use that spell, right? But imagine this: the three of us, plus you—we all learn the spell.”

I closed my eyes. All four of us, standing ready to cast a spell—I could picture it easily.

“Would there ever be a time when all four of us can’t use magic?”

“Oh...” Finally, I understood what she was saying—as well as what compelled her to say it. I looked at her knowingly. “Dragon Slayer, right?”

“Wowie! That’s my darling!” Dyphon threw herself at me.

“Whoa!” I hurriedly caught her in my arms and planted my feet firmly on the ground. Judging by her reaction, I must’ve gotten it right—Dyphon’s idea stemmed from the recent Dragon Slayer debacle. “Right. Back then, all three of you collapsed at once.”

“Yep. At first, I thought us three would do, but then I remembered what happened, so I added you in.” Arms wrapped around my torso, Dyphon looked up at me with a dazzling smile. “Can you imagine a scenario where all of us are rendered magicless? ’Cause I can’t!”

“Hmm...” A situation where Lardon, Dyphon, Paithon, and I are all unable to use magic... As she said, I found it hard to imagine. But setting that aside... “Are you okay with that?”

“I can’t stand working with them,” she grumbled, before wiping her scowl away with a broad grin. “But for you, I can!”

My lips twisted into a bitter smile, which didn’t go unnoticed.

“It’s fine, really!” Dyphon added hurriedly. “Sure, I hate them to death, but the joy of getting to help you wins out!”

“Okay...” I gave her a small nod. I could feel she meant every word—she didn’t like the arrangement, but she wasn’t necessarily forcing herself too much. So, in return, I decided on my first order of business: to make a spell that could serve as Dyphon’s lifeline. “I need to test it out first...”

Dyphon nodded. “Uh-huh. Tests are important. Need a hand?”

“Um... Well, I do need a bug, or maybe a small animal of—”

Her figure blurred for a second before she stretched her hand out to me. “Like this?”

I looked down and found a bee grasped within her small hand. “What? When did you...?”

“Just now.”

“Oh, wow.” She says it like it’s no big deal. That’s a dragon for you. When it came to magic, I could just barely manage to reach the same heights as them, but I wouldn’t even dare try to match up to their base capabilities.

Sighing, I took the bee from Dyphon’s hands and gently cradled it in mine. As the little thing buzzed lazily within the cage of my palms, I encased it in my mana, almost like a dumpling.

“Pythagoras.”

“Huh?” Dyphon blinked. “That’s a preexisting spell, isn’t it? Weren’t you going to make a new one?”

“Yeah. This is just a preliminary test,” I told her as I snapped my fingers and cast Window Cutter, slicing the bee in half. Its remains then started to emit light. “Good.”

“What did you do?”

“I cast a spell that would make the bee glow once it died.”

“Well, yeah. I can tell that much.”

“I’m thinking of making a similar spell for you—one that would summon your past selves if anything ever happened to you.”

“What? Me?”

“That’s another thing we learned from the Dragon Slayer incident, isn’t it?” I said, watching as Dyphon’s eyes slowly grew wide in realization. “Sure, it’s hard to imagine all three of you dragons being rendered magicless, but the same goes for your past selves too, doesn’t it?”

They were the lifeline I had in mind. Should she ever need it, I didn’t want Dyphon to resort to doing something she so hated as she was now by helping me, and with this spell, she would never have to.

“Oh, darling! I love you!” she cried as she threw her arms around me.

This time, I failed to plant my feet on the ground, sending us both tumbling down.

.239

Dyphon and I hadn’t been on the ground for long when I let out a gasp.

She peeked up at me curiously. “What’s wrong, darling?”

“Lardon’s back,” I told her.

Dyphon’s mood instantly soured, if her sulky pout was any indication. “Hmph. Already?”

“Yeah,” I said, feeling the familiar presence within me. “You done with your business, Lardon?”

“Yes. I’ve left the rest to them.”

“Hmm? Why?”

“The following steps involve politics and diplomacy—no place for me to assist.”

“Really? Much less me, I guess.”

“I wouldn’t say so,” Lardon said. I could practically hear her smirking. “Once cornered, those humans in Parta may grow desperate and attack. Your time to shine will come then.”

“I just have to beat them, right?”

“Till they’re black-and-blue.”

Orders received, I guess. I nodded. She didn’t delve into those “political and diplomatic steps” they were taking, nor did I think to ask—it wasn’t like I’d understand either way.

“Oh,” I murmured.

“What is it this time, darling?”

“The lights are coming on.”

“Lights?” Dyphon got back on her feet. With her weight now off me, I followed suit and took a gander around. As the sun set beyond the horizon, the streetlights littered around our empty magic city began to flick on one after another.

“You made those, didn’t you?” she noted absently. “This is my first time seeing the city so empty... But wow. The lights still turn on even without anybody around.”

“That’s how I made it,” I said as I swept my gaze across the cityscape. “But... Hmm... Something’s off.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s... Oh!”

Before I could place the odd feeling, the answer presented itself to me: One by one, the scattered lights slowly began dissipating. Eventually, they all faded away, leaving the city under the darkness of night.

“What happened?”

I groaned. “We’re out of mana.”

“Out of mana?” Dyphon parroted, cocking her head.

“Those streetlights—or, well, everything in this city is powered by manastones,” I explained. “The residents go about their daily lives while producing, um...let’s call it surplus mana. This surplus mana is then circulated to keep the city running.”

“So...” Dyphon hummed. “That means it’ll work so long as people live here?”

“Exactly.”

“Wow! You’re so innovative, darling!” she crowed, clinging onto me once more.

I guess I never got around to explaining to her how this city works... But we could save that for later. Right now, we had a situation to deal with.

“And so, the lights switched off because...”

“Because it’s been a few days since all the monsters marched out of the city, yes,” I finished with a nod. “Even without surplus mana, the city kept using up manastones to power the lights and everything—and now, we’re totally out.”

“But it’ll power back up once everyone returns, right?”

“The system itself isn’t damaged, so yeah. We will need a bit more mana to start it back up, though.”

“Oh, oh! Then leave that to me!” Dyphon exclaimed, much to my surprise. “I want to help you, darling. Please?”

“O-Okay... It’s all yours, then, when everyone returns.”

“Right, no point switching it back on right now. Got it!”

Dyphon looked terribly eager, like she’d set her entire mind to this task. On the other hand, I still had a lot more to mull over.

“What is it?” Lardon asked.

“Well, I always thought we were all set with this whole mana-circulation system... I never thought something like this could happen.”

“No one would typically prepare for the entire population vacating the city.”

“Say, for example...everyone gets put to sleep through a ‘Monster Slayer’ spell or something. This would happen again, wouldn’t it?”

Lardon chuckled. “Your first concern then would be their lives, not the city’s functions, no?”

“It’s hypothetical.”

“Yes, I understand.”

Back when I made this whole system, it felt plenty complete to me, so I’d stashed it away as a finished project and never thought to revisit it again. But now that I’d discovered a weakness—no, a flaw—in this system, the gears in my mind began turning and whirring, dead set on fixing it. This was just how I was, for better or for worse.

I closed my eyes and sank into my thoughts. The system typically runs on bloodsouls... Is there anything else we can use as a replacement?

“No, wait...” Why fixate on bloodsouls, when I’d learned so much more about magic since then? With more knowledge came more options on the table; I could come up with a better method. I knew I could.

“Stuck, are we?” Lardon remarked when I’d been silent for too long.

“Oh, no.” I shook my head. “I’ve already come up with a way to continuously circulate a lot of mana.”

“Already? Impressive. Then why the troubled look?”

“Well, I could assign someone to manage this new mechanism, but I’d rather automate it. I mean, just look—our current system’s already semiautomated, but it still shut down when all the monsters up and left.”

I needed to surpass our current semiautomatic system. To do that, I’d have to keep racking my brain for better ideas.

.240

Liam sat in his room, staring intently at a manastone fragment on the table as he, in turn, was being watched by three figures huddled together a few steps away: Lardon, Dyphon, and Paithon.

Paithon, being the last one to arrive as she’d just awoken from her slumber, watched the intense concentration on Liam’s face with much bewilderment. “What’s he doing?”

“Observing how a manastone ‘melts’ in preparation for his next new spell, it seems,” answered Lardon.

“Ohh...”

Dyphon squealed. “He looks so dashing when he’s focused!”

“Do not disturb him,” Lardon warned.

“Ugh, I know! I’m not like you!”

“Oh?” Lardon pivoted to Dyphon with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “It seems I need to reassess your opinion of me... Or must I draw it out of you?”

Dyphon’s features warped in anger. “What? You wanna go? Come at me—I dare you!”

“Cut it out. You can kill each other after I take my nap...” Paithon drawled, even as bloodlust emitted from her in waves.

As always, the smallest trigger set the three dragons into a standoff. It was a normal occurrence—or it used to be, back in the days when they fought to the death. If anyone from that time were to see how they were living now, they’d be floored. Of course, there was only one reason for this momentary peace.

“Let us stop,” said Lardon after the short standoff. “We might disturb his focus.”

“Hmph. Fine... I guess you’re right.” Dyphon cast a glance at Liam. He was still staring intently at the manastone; he hadn’t even flinched throughout their quarrel.

“Now then, I came out of his body to pose you both a question,” said Lardon.

Dyphon rolled her eyes. “Get on with it, then. I don’t have all day.”

“Ugh. Can I sleep?” Paithon grumbled.

Lardon ignored their complaints. “Tell me, what do you plan to do for him?”

Dyphon arched a brow. “Huh? What’s that mean?”

“I mean in a broad sense, moving forward. You, especially,” she said, eyeing Dyphon. “You are very dedicated to those you fall for, no? You even transform into their race.”

“Got a problem with that?”

“Not at all. I recall you even offered a man you loved an entire nation once.”

“What about it?”

“Again, I am not criticizing you.”

“Then what?!” Dyphon snapped, bringing the menacing air back into the room.

“Calm down and listen.”

“Can we get on with it already?” Paithon grumbled, irritation simmering behind her half-lidded eyes. Despite her prodding, however, Lardon took a moment to rein in her own annoyance before going on.

“We need to know whether our plans conflict,” she said, plainly this time.

Dyphon scowled. “Ugh. Yeah, wouldn’t want that.”

“Say we all want to offer him the world, but there is only one world...”

“And three of us who can claim it whenever we want,” Paithon finished, glancing at the other two dragons.

Lardon nodded. “Precisely. Any one of us could single-handedly attain whatever we want. So if our plans for him happen to overlap...”

“Then I’ll be needing you two to back off,” Dyphon hissed.

Paithon remained silent but met Dyphon’s scathing malice with her own defiant glare. She, too, was plenty attached to Liam. As was Lardon, but because she initiated this discussion—and because Paithon had already chastised her earlier—she kept her composure and continued.

“Save the fight for after we confirm one another’s intentions,” she cut in. “All will be well if our plans do not clash, no?”

“Hmph. Guess so,” Dyphon relented. Paithon also agreed with a small hum.

“So, your plans?”

“Obviously, I’m going to make darling the ruler of this world!” Dyphon proudly declared. “He could say the word now, and I’ll line up the heads of all the world’s leaders in front of him tomorrow!”

“Simple and straightforward, as expected.”

“What? Got a problem with it?”

“No, not at all. I can understand the desire to elevate your mate.”

“Hmph. Acting all cool and composed...” Dyphon spat, then shot Paithon a nod. “What about you?”

“I wanna do naughty things with him.”

“Now that is unexpected,” Lardon remarked. “Though the bluntness of the declaration is par for the course for you.”

“It’s been centuries since a human could touch me,” Paithon mumbled. “I wanna be his go-to for all that touchy stuff.”

Lardon and Dyphon weren’t stunned by her candid confession, nor could they demean her for it. Their thoughts and feelings differed, but all three of them were the same in that Liam was a unique type of human they hadn’t met in centuries.

“And you?” Dyphon said, finally turning to Lardon.

“Me?” Lardon chuckled. “You see, I believe I might have chosen quite the thorny path...”

“Yeah, yeah. Skip the preamble, will you?”

“Whatever it is, it doesn’t seem like it overlaps with our plans,” Paithon told her.

“Sure, but still—spit it out.”

Lardon nodded as she cast a glance at Liam. “I am thinking of supporting this earnest boy until he masters magic.”

Dyphon rolled her eyes. “Wow. So specific.”

“And at what point would he decide he’s mastered magic?” Paithon asked.

“Thus a thorny path. I said so, did I not?”

“Guess so.” With a shrug, Dyphon exchanged glances with the two other dragons, who responded with understanding nods. “Looks like none of us have the same plans.”

“Indeed,” said Lardon.

“Great. Saves us trouble,” Paithon drawled.

“And we’ve learned something else from this discussion,” Dyphon added.

Again, Lardon and Paithon nodded in agreement. They all fixed their gazes onto Liam, their eyes blazing with the same resolve: that whoever wanted to fight him would have to go through them first.

Those who knew the three dragons in the past would have struggled to comprehend them agreeing to stand on the same side, even if temporarily. It was a truce less likely than even heaven and earth flipping over. And yet...

“Hmm... It should have some form of regularity, but...”

With his heart and his mind honed in solely on his beloved magic, the very human who made the impossible possible hardly even understood the immensity of his feat.

.241

“Hmm...”

Under my unrelenting gaze, the manastone on the table continued to leak mana like ice melting into water. It’d been a small fragment to begin with, one I’d cut from a bigger chunk to observe, and before long it dissipated before my eyes. I watched with a sigh as it melted into nothing—as had many other fragments I’d already observed.

“It’s different...again.”

Our magic infrastructure had shut down when it ran out of manastones to draw power from, so in case it happened again, I wanted to add a new mechanism that would intake mana from Another Dimension as a fail-safe. To do that, I needed to find some sort of pattern, some form of regularity, to how these manastones dissipated and disappeared. Anything would do—I just needed something to anchor this new mechanism onto. But so far, my observations had yielded me no results.

“There has to be something... Ugh. Anyway, next.”

Before I could take out another manastone fragment, however, a soft knock came from the door, sounding loudly in the room now that I was alone.

“Who is it?” I called out.

The door slowly opened, and two girls walked in—Asuna and Jodie, two of the very few human residents of this city.

“Hello, Liam,” greeted Jodie as she closed the door behind her.

“Asuna, Ms. Jodie! You’re back!”

“We sure are!” Asuna crowed.

“Just a while ago,” Jodie added.

“You two must be tired.”

“Nuh-uh. Not at all. We hardly did anything. Right, Ms. Jodie?”

“Indeed.” Jodie put a hand to her cheek as a soft smile graced her lips. “Everybody was sound asleep by the time we got to our destination.”

“Oh... That must’ve been after we cast Human Slayer.”

Asuna cocked her head. “What’s that? The name of a spell? Sounds cool!”

“A spell that kills only humans, perhaps?” Jodie hummed, looking vaguely intrigued. She must’ve figured it out from what she knew about Dragon Slayer. “I’m surprised such a spell exists.”

I shook my head. “I made it myself.”

“Oh my... Impressive as ever.”

Asuna whistled. “And you say it like it’s no big deal.”

Jodie giggled. “What else would you expect?”

“Anyway, what are you doing here? Practicing your magic?”

“Oh, no.” I gave the pair a quick rundown of what happened—of how the lack of activity in the city had left the magic infrastructure with no mana residue to work with, leaving us bereft of even streetlights. “I’ve been trying to come up with a mechanism that would automatically activate whenever this happens.”

“Wow... Sounds tough,” Asuna muttered.

Jodie sighed. “That is a rather big issue. It seems we came at a bad time.”

I shook my head. “No, not at all. I haven’t made any progress, so I was just thinking of getting a change of pace to refresh my mind.”

“Awesome!” Asuna cheered. “Then we’ve got just the thing for you—some delicious food!”

“Oh, really?” She looked terribly excited—it must be really good.

“Uh-huh! It’s the local specialty of the town we went to. You should’ve seen it—the town was back up and running just half a day after everyone came to!”

“I mean, Human Slayer doesn’t leave any lasting consequences as long as it’s dispelled on time, so...”

“But shouldn’t there have been a bit more, hmm, I dunno...chaos and confusion?”

“Oh... Huh. I guess so?” I never thought of that... But maybe Asuna’s just overthinking it? She said it herself—the people were already back to their daily routines. I shrugged it off and asked, “Anyway, what’s this food you mentioned?”

“Oh, right! Here you go.” Asuna took out a stuffed paper bag.

Judging from the size and the bulging contour... “Is that bread?”

“Ooh, close! But not quite.”

“Really? What is it, then?”

“Wouldn’t want to spoil the fun. Let me borrow your kitchen so I can heat it up!”

“Oh, no need. Let me.” I held my hand up and cast two spells to summon a couple of earth and fire spirits, a Gnome and a Salamander. The cute little creatures appeared with a flash of light before turning to me, awaiting my orders. I asked Asuna, “Do I just steam it?”

“Yeah, sure!”

“Got it—Gnome.”

The Gnome responded by facing Asuna and encasing her paper bag in earth. The earthen mold crawled over the paper bag, perfectly outlining its shape.

“Salamander, heat it up slowly. Make sure not to burn it.”

Heeding my orders, the Salamander wrapped its flaming body around the Gnome’s earthen mold.

“Huh...” Asuna tilted her head. “Does that work?”

“It’s like a salt crust,” Jodie mused.

“Salt?” I hummed. “I’m only familiar with clay...”

“Clay?”

“Uh-huh. As in, wrapping a potato in clay and just tossing it into the fire. Always comes out perfectly baked.”

“Oh, wow. That’s cool.”

Soon, the spirits finished their job and disappeared, leaving us with a nicely heated earthen mold. Asuna gingerly pried it off, yelping and snapping her hand back a few times from the heated surface. The effort was worth it, though—when the crust was fully peeled, steam billowed into the air, carrying with it an enticing scent.

“Here you go!” she said.

“This is...a meat bun? But it’s kinda small,” I murmured, observing the bun that fit snugly in Asuna’s palm. It looked like I could finish it in just one bite. The white dough was thinner than usual, enough for me to see that some sort of meat was stuffed inside.

“Try a bite,” she offered.

“Well then, don’t mind if I do.” I bit off half the bun in one bite, and a rich broth made with meat juices instantly spread within my mouth. “Sh-Sho hot! But sho good!” I said around a mouthful of soft dough and piping hot meat filling. The size of the bun wasn’t impressive, but it seemed the point of this dish was to make up for it with the juiciness.

I finally managed to gulp it down and blinked widely. “Wow...”

“Well? Tastes great, doesn’t it?” Asuna preened.

“Uh-huh. For sure. I’ve never had anything like this.”

“Turns out it’s really popular in Parta. There’s even another version that’s fried and with thicker dough.”

“Ooh. That sounds good too...” My mind began to wander, imagining how that version tasted.

Barring the exceptionally juicy broth, the dish wasn’t much different from an ordinary meat bun. That being said, the juiciness was probably the whole point of the dish—its selling point, if you will. Whoever first thought of capitalizing on the juiciness of the meat was really—

“Really...amazing...?”

“Hmm? What’s wrong, Liam? Is there something weird inside the—”

“That’s it!”

“Huh? What’s it?”

“Wait here!” As they said, strike while the iron’s hot. Leaving Asuna and Jodie behind, I dashed out of the room to give shape to my sudden flash of inspiration.

.242

All of the mana residue produced in our magic city flowed right into our manastone deposit. Normally, the mine would be rich with crystallized manastones that powered our city, but now, it was barren and desolate. The system itself, however, was still working—whatever minuscule bits of mana that were still lingering in the city gathered here to form manastones the size of sand grains.

“What do you plan on doing here?”

Ever since taking charge of matters involving the Duchy of Parta, Lardon had been constantly going in and out of my body, to the point that I’d since stopped reacting each time she suddenly reappeared. Without batting an eye, I simply answered, “That meat bun gave me an idea. I’m gonna try making a manastone.”

“Quite literally ‘food for thought,’ hmm? Interesting, interesting... Show me what you have in mind, then.” Lardon’s voice had a pleasant tone to it, like she was genuinely looking forward to seeing my idea. I felt all the more motivated to get this right.

With a deep breath, I shut my eyes and cleared my mind, filtering out all the background noise and ambient sensations. Right now, I only needed to sense one thing: the flow of mana around me. An image formed in my mind of countless streams—of something closer to fog than water—converging into a large river, and finally, a singular point. The moment I sensed that condensation taking place, I opened my eyes to a single manastone, as small as a grain of sand.

“You were sensing how a manastone forms,” Lardon observed with a hum. “Ah, but it has already disappeared.”

“This deposit powers our city’s magic infrastructure, kind of like a reservoir. Since we’re all out of stock, whatever’s produced now will just be used up right away.”

“Hmm. I see.”

Next, I opened up my item box and took out a meteorite from Another Dimension. It soon dissipated into mana that flowed along the deposit’s matrix—the streams and river I sensed earlier—before converging into one point and forming a pea-sized manastone. An improvement on the last one, which had been the size of a sand grain, but all the same it was instantly eaten up by the city’s magic infrastructure and dissipated.

“And now? What are you doing?”

“Measuring how much mana I need to make this thing,” I answered. “I was hoping to use whatever residual mana was still congregating to the deposit, but it looks like I’ll need to supply some myself. At least I can make use of the system we have in place here.”

“Oh? Are you planning to automate its creation?”

“No.” I shook my head. According to my current mental blueprint, I didn’t need to go that far. “I only need one—maybe two or three, including extras. Either way, there’s no need to automate their production. If anything...”

“Yes...?”

“If anything, I’m sowing the seeds for the automation process.”

“Hmm... Fascinating. Very well. Proceed.”

“Sure.” Frankly, I was honored that Lardon had such high hopes for me. Not everyone could draw the interest of a dragon, so all her attention was making me feel a little giddy. I need to get this right—on the first try, as much as possible.

Once again, I closed my eyes and focused my senses on picturing the deposit’s matrix: the structures of the pathways and the speed of the flowing mana—every little detail I could grasp, whatever it took to make my mental image as accurate as possible. Once my mental re-creation was practically perfect, I took out another meteorite from my item box. By my calculations, based on the two samples earlier, this one should be big enough to form a pebble-sized manastone.

The meteorite broke down, filling the air with thick and dense mana, all of which flowed through the matrix and gathered into one point, mere moments away from forming into a manastone—which I would have to keep that way for a while.

“Time Stop!”

This spell cost a ton of mana. Even though my mana pool had increased significantly since the time I first learned it, I still couldn’t stop time for more than five seconds without any external help, like using Another Dimension. Not that I would be needing that external help now—five seconds was more than enough.

“Magic Missile!”

I cast an elementary spell, manifesting it right in the middle of the crystallizing manastone. The spell took form but didn’t activate just yet, essentially creating a preactivated spell of sorts. Then, once time resumed, the dense mana coalesced into a grain, then a pea, and then finally, a pebble-sized manastone as planned. It happened all too fast for Magic Missile to activate.

“Did you stop time?”

“You can tell?”

“Nothing moves too fast for my eyes to follow. The only possibility is time manipulation.”

“Ah, right. Of course.”

I turned my attention back to the newly formed manastone. It didn’t last long; much like any other manastone in this deposit, it was soon fed into the magic infrastructure and disappeared. Only then was the spell freed from inside it—Magic Missile activated, shooting out a ball of mana into the air.

I nodded. “Good.”

“Aha, I see. Just like that meat bun,” Lardon mused. “Basically, you intend to seal a dimensional rift-opening spell into a manastone and set it as the last one—so that it will automatically trigger when all the manastones here are consumed.”

“Exactly. With the system still working, we just need a burst of mana to start it back up, so Another Dimension alone should do the trick.”

My lips stretched into a broad grin. The inspiration I gained from Asuna and Jodie worked!

.243

“On to the next step,” I muttered under Lardon’s inquisitive gaze. “I’ve got everything I need. Time to wrap this up.”

My focus returned to the manastone deposit around us, which was gathering mana and condensing it all into yet another grain-sized stone. Once again, I repeated the earlier steps before it could take solid form—stop time, cast a spell, then release—except now, the spell I sealed within the manastone was Another Dimension.

Now before this manastone is sucked into our magic infrastructure...

“Item Box!” I summoned my spatial storage and took out several meteorites, which swiftly dissipated into mana and coated the manastone. It slowly grew in size, and once I was sure there weren’t complications with the Another Dimension I’d sealed inside, I opened up a dimensional rift.

“Hmm? What purpose does that serve?” Lardon asked.

“Well, we never know when a meteorite will come flying in. I was just buying some time with the meteorites I already have on hand.”

“Ah, I see.”

Question answered, I returned my attention to the dimensional rift, waiting intently while maintaining the forming manastone with the meteorites in my item box. Less than a minute later, I got what I was waiting for: another meteorite, dissipating instantly into mana the moment it crossed the boundary, all of which flowed through the framework and wrapped around the manastone, making it even bigger yet.

Taking that as my cue, I put away my item box and opened one more dimensional rift. More of these rifts meant more meteorites, and more mana to be fed right into the growing manastone. Meteorites started coming in one after another until finally, the manastone had grown large enough to fit in two hands.

“Time Stop!”

In this frozen moment, I applied a second Another Dimension to the stone’s surface layer before following the same process of coating it in a thin layer of mana from my item box. With that done, I released my hold on time.

“Hmm? Did you stop time again?”

“I did.” Nothing ever got past Lardon, it seemed—not even time she hadn’t perceived herself.

“Oho... So you sealed a second Another Dimension into the stone. But why?”

“Oh, well... They’re both spares,” I explained as my eyes remained fixed on the growing manastone. “The one I set up earlier will activate right before everything runs out, while this one will activate after the stone has shrunk this far.”

Lardon hummed thoughtfully. After a short pause, she asked, “Why set up two spares?”

“Ah... I just think it’s a good idea,” I said sheepishly. “I mean, I need to be prepared.”

“Is one spare not enough preparation?”

“Not when I can’t fully deny the possibility of the spell malfunctioning. These are emergency measures; I need to establish some redundancies.”

“Oh? Impressive...” I could nearly hear the smirk in Lardon’s voice. “It seems your success has not blinded you from your original objective. Many could stand to learn from your example.”

“Um... Really?”

“But of course. Humans often seek one form of ultimate power—be it strength, wealth, or knowledge—because they believe it will set them up for life.”

“Oh... I guess so. But is that so wrong?”

“Life cannot be conquered with one source of strength alone,” Lardon murmured, her voice low and serious. A short silence later, however, she said with a more lighthearted tone, “Why, just look at me—powerful as I am for the most part, I still needed your help to survive Dragon Slayer, no?”

“Oh...!” Despite the playfulness in her voice, her words rang true. “So I made the right move in adding redundancies to our emergency measures, huh?”

“Indeed. You made a wise decision, and for that, you may be proud.”

“Thanks.” Her praise lifted my mood, but I also felt a bit awkward. “Still, I’m only like this when it comes to magic. For anything else, I might also be the type to seek out something ‘ultimate’... Oh, wait. Not ‘might’—I am.”

“Oh? You are, hmm?”

“Uh-huh. After all, I used to say that underfloor heating in winter was the ultimate luxury!”

Lardon chuckled. “I suppose that is a luxury to you humans.”

“Right? After experiencing underfloor heating, an ordinary fireplace just won’t cut it anymore. It always leaves my back and feet chilly... Oh, but it’s still a pain to procure firewood and clean up the soot, so I guess it isn’t as incredible as it seems after all.” I huffed out an awkward laugh. Underfloor heating was a godsend to me back then, but I was starting to have second thoughts after seeing Lardon so unimpressed.

“Hmph... Indeed, that is not quite the ultimate form of winter comfort. Do you know what is?”

“Um... No, actually. What is it?”

“Moving south,” she said bluntly, “then back north again for the summer.”

“Okay, now that’s just crazy behavior,” I deadpanned.

Lardon chuckled. “But it grants the ultimate comfort, no?”

“You’re not wrong,” I said with a pleasant laugh.

Lulled by the lighthearted banter, I let my mind wander back to my task of setting up emergency measures. There was such a thing as too many redundancies, but still...

“Maybe two or three more wouldn’t hurt...” I mumbled to myself, my mind once again set on what needed to be done.

.244

I stared long and hard at the manastone for one last moment before finally nodding. “Mm-hmm. Looking good,” I muttered. All the dimensional rifts were closed, but the manastone was still maintaining its size. “Everyone must be back already.”

“Oh? You can tell?”

“Yeah, kinda. It’s the mana—it feels a lot more...cluttered?”

“I see. Then you must be right.”

“Things should return to normal soon enough.” I cast a glance at the manastone—its size was stable, and the emergency measures I’d prepared were safely sealed within. Our city’s magic infrastructure should run properly in the meantime.

“So, what next? Will you continue?”

“No, I’m calling it a day here. I want to prepare something more substantial, so I need to give it some serious thought first.”

“Hmm? And by that, you mean...?”

“I’m sure you can tell, but this is just a stopgap measure,” I said, pointing at the manastone in which Another Dimension was sealed. All it did was activate a spell that staved off the problem temporarily. “It’s like I’m freezing food to stop it from going bad—it’s as simple as that, really.”

“You mean to say it could all easily come tumbling down, and so you want something more complex as well...?”

“Exactly.”

“Hah... Ha ha!”

I blinked. “What?” That wasn’t just some small, amused chuckle—it sounded like she actually found something funny. “Did I say something strange?”

“Indeed you did. Stranger yet that you don’t realize it yourself.”

“Really? But...I was just talking about magic,” I mumbled in bewilderment. I briefly looked back on our conversation, but nothing struck me as particularly odd.

Regardless, Lardon wasn’t the type to overreact or make a fuss out of nothing. I hadn’t been expecting this reaction at all... It’s a little worrying. “What’s so weird about what I said?” I pressed, furrowing my brows in place of looking her in the eye.

Lardon laughed again—the sound was so bright, so pleasant, like she was genuinely enjoying herself. “You combined dimensional magic and time magic, and sealed them within a rare and precious stone.”

“Right.” I nodded. That was the long and short of it.

“Now, pray tell,” said Lardon, “which part of that was simple, hmm?”

“Ah...”

“Either one of those alone is a feat humans could only dream of achieving within their lifetime—and yet you call it simple. Not to mention you failed to notice until I pointed it out... Ah, truly, how amusing.”

“N-No, I was talking about how it, uh...”

“Calm down. And do not humble yourself. I am giving you praise—just accept it.”

“Um...” Lardon didn’t need to wait for me to put my words together to know what I was going to say. Stunned, all I could say was a meek “okay.”

“In any case...” Lardon chuckled. “I am looking forward to what you consider a more ‘complex’ measure.”

Shaking off the last of my bewilderment, I nodded firmly in response. Lardon was placing high hopes on me, and I knew that meant a lot, coming from her. My chest swelled with pride as I swore deep down that I wouldn’t let her down, no matter what.

Not long after I returned to my room, Scarlet came looking for me. She was dressed more formally than usual. Not that I knew much about formal wear—her outfit just gave me that impression.

“What’s up, Scarlet?”

“I apologize for disturbing your rest, Master. I bring a report for Lord Lardon.”

“Ah.” I nodded. “Lardon, you there?”

“Yes.” Lardon emerged from my body in her usual human form as a young girl.

Despite the mundanity of this form, Scarlet offered a reverent bow. Paired with her formal wear, I felt like I was looking at a painting. My boring old room even began to feel like some grand audience hall.

“So, your report?” Lardon said.

“The grand duke is reluctant to accept our conditions,” Scarlet began. “He claimed he needs time to consider, hence why I have returned in the meantime.”

“Hmm...”

“Uh, is everything all right?” I couldn’t help but ask. It sounded like negotiations had reached a deadlock, although Lardon and Scarlet looked as calm as ever.

“Yes. This is not a problem,” Lardon answered bluntly, Scarlet nodding beside her.

“Huh... Really?”

“As I’ve said before, the plan is to corner and pressure them.”

“Oh, yeah... You did mention that.”

“And for that, we need to, hmm... How shall we put this, by human parlance?” Lardon mused, shooting Scarlet a glance.

“We need to make them shed tears of blood,” Scarlet answered promptly, as if she’d had the phrase ready beforehand.

“Indeed. We must corner them to that extent.” Lardon nodded. “So, naturally, negotiations will not end in just one sitting. We will press them, and press them, and press them again, until the tears they shed turn crimson red.”

“Okay...” I mumbled. “So...I guess that means things are going smoothly?”

Scarlet nodded. “Yes, Master.”

The negotiations aren’t progressing, but things are going smoothly, huh? That’s some high-level politics these two are working on...

“Additionally,” Scarlet continued, “I’ve received a report that the grand duke reached out to Lord Bruno.”

Bruno was my—or, well, Liam Hamilton’s—older brother. He was married off into another family not long after I found myself in this body. Presently, he was doing very well as the head of his new house. Ever since I began building a nation of monsters in this promised land, he’d even lent me his aid on more than one occasion, making him my most cordial connection among the human nobility.

I hummed. “So he contacted my brother?”

“Yes,” Scarlet replied. “Most likely, the grand duke sought him out as a mediator on account of his favorable relations with you—a role that not many humans can fulfill.”

“It makes sense that they went looking for the lad,” Lardon agreed.

“Uh... So, what’ll I tell Bruno if he comes looking for me?” These negotiations were entirely out of my hands, so all I could do was ask Lardon and Scarlet for their instructions.

“You’ve no need to worry about that, Master.”

“Why not?”

“Because Lord Bruno turned down the grand duke.”

I blinked. “Oh, he did?”

“A smart lad, as always,” Lardon remarked with a smirk.

“Indeed. So rest assured, Master.”

“All right. I’ll trust you on that.”

Lardon chuckled. “Parta must be stumped with that lad out of the equation. After all, there’s no other human left who could possibly change your mind. Unless, of course, they bring with them a jaw-dropping grimoire of some sort.”

“Ha ha... I guess not.” Lardon knew me well—I would much sooner be moved by a grimoire than some human visitor. Huh, actually... I’m a little curious now. From what I’d heard, Parta had to be at their wit’s end. If they tried to appease me with a grimoire, then it’d have to be nothing but the best they have to offer—and how incredible a grimoire would that be?

Uh-oh... Now I’m kind of hoping they’ll do just that. I kept my thoughts to myself. After all, Lardon and Scarlet were working so hard to pressure the grand duke.

But if, later on, Lady Luck chose to smile upon me... Well, I’d have to try not to look too happy then.

Grand Duke Tristan looked like a dead man. As he holed up in his mansion’s study, head held between his hands, “haggard” was quite possibly the mildest way to describe his current state.

Having witnessed the strength of Liam and the dragons, Tristan wanted no more than to reach a ceasefire agreement as swiftly as possible. But much to his dismay, his recent negotiations with Scarlet had made little to no progress. Her demands were much too harsh, such that agreeing was synonymous to condemning his nation to economic ruin for the next century.

Hence, Tristan was forced to tide through the negotiations while seeking out someone—anyone—who could mediate between him and Liam. His first option had been Flora, and he wasted no time reaching out, but the girl, too, wasted no time curtly turning him down. After that, he got in touch with Bruno upon hearing rumors of his involvement with Liam, only to receive a rejection so courteously worded, it sent a shiver down his spine.

He was a cornered mouse. It was only a matter of time before he would be forced to accept Scarlet’s demands.

“Your Royal Highness!!!”

Suddenly, a man came stumbling into the study without so much as a knock. Normally, Tristan could have him beheaded on the spot for such disrespectful behavior—after all, private space or not, this was still the grand duke’s study—but Tristan no longer had the energy to be offended, much less scold his subordinate.

He could only turn his dreary gaze to the man and mumble, “What is it...?”

“I found her!” the man exclaimed.

“‘Her’...?” Tristan’s head slumped sideward, gaze empty and hollow. His weary mind struggled to recall even his own orders.

“Yes! The woman you told me to look for—I found her!”

“The woman I...told you to... Ah!” With a sharp gasp, life returned to Tristan, his eyes now alight with hope. “You found her? Truly?!”

“Yes!”

“Then bring her here right away!”

“Er, well, she claims she is busy at the—”

“Now is not the time for that! Bring her to me!”

“R-Right away!”

The subordinate ran out of the room in a flurry, leaving Tristan alone once more. But unlike before, his expression no longer blended in with his dark and gloomy study.

“We’ve found her... Finally... Yes, finally!”

His eyes were ablaze with life—like a dying man who’d found hope amid a desolate world.

.245

“Amelia Emilia Claudia...”

My chant resonated in the air as I levitated high up in the sky.

An aria was a chant comprising words that heightened the caster’s focus and, when vocalized before a spell, also amplified their mana. My personal aria was made up of the names of the three songstresses I adored in my past life. Thinking of them lifted my spirits, and that energy was channeled straight into amplifying my mana.

All that mana was used not for my usual multicasting—no, it was funneled into a single spell. A magic circle deployed at my feet, spanning dozens of meters in diameter.

“Destroyer!”

Two beams of light, one white and one black, shot out of my hand and entwined into a spiral as they headed straight for their target: a large and rocky cone-shaped mountain. The beams shot through the upper portion of the mountain like tofu, leaving a crescent-shaped hole in its wake.

“Amelia Emilia Claudia... Petrification!”

Without wasting any time, I cast another aria-enhanced spell on the mountain itself. The magic’s light enveloped the rocky surface and fixed it in place, almost like sugar coating on a sponge cake. With this, I didn’t have to worry about the mountain crumbling apart from the powerful impact and sudden change in structure.

I gave the reformed mountain one last look-over before nodding. “Will this do?”

“Yes, very well done. Now the humans will tremble in fear.”

“But what was the point of all this?”

“A warning,” Lardon answered. “It will tell him that he is next, should he continue taking his sweet time.”

“Okay... Um, but doesn’t he already know how powerful we are? I mean, after that whole Human Slayer fiasco...”

“This is more visually impactful—both for the grand duke, and for the masses. They did not understand the threat of Human Slayer, but one look at this poor mountain and they should start hounding the grand duke as well.”

“Is that how it works...?” I couldn’t really wrap my head around it, but it must be another important step to pressuring Grand Duke Tristan, much like everything they’d been doing recently. “So, is this all you need from me?”

“Yes. You may leave the rest to us.”

“All right.” I turned my attention back to the enormous hole in the mountain.

“What are you thinking of?”

“Oh, well... I was just thinking of how I could optimize these ultradestructive large-scale offensive spells.”

Lardon chuckled. “I suppose I should have seen that coming from you.”

The fond and supportive tone of her voice gave me a spurt of motivation and encouraged me to press on.

As I flew back to the city, I got a bird’s-eye view of the crowded streets and lively cityscape. This meant that the manastone system should return to normal soon enough. Whew... That’s one weight off my shoulders.

Coming up with a backup system was still on my to-do list, as was thinking of a better way to cast destructive large-scale magic. But for now, I safely landed in my palace in the very center of the city.

“Lord Liam, Lord Liam!”

“Look, look!”

The moment I landed in the courtyard, I was greeted by two very peppy slimes.

“Hey, Sli and Lime— Oof!” The jiggly pair leaped into my arms like little puppies begging for attention, so I gave them a few pets. “What’s up, you two?”

“Look at this!”

“We learned a new trick!”

I cocked my head. “What? A trick?”

Sli and Lime leaped back to the ground, then bounced onto a jagged rock in one corner of the landscape garden. It looked like a miniature replica of a mountain. The slimes stretched and compressed, freely morphing their gelatinous bodies, until they settled into the shape that they wanted.

Slimes were semisolid by nature, but they typically went about their day in the shape of a round blob, probably because that was the most comfortable shape for them to default to. So now, Sli and Lime must have been exerting some effort to morph their forms.

But what for?

The answer revealed itself with a bit more observation. Sunlight phased through their bodies and refracted into a single, incredibly bright point on the ground—it was so bright, in fact, that for a second I thought the ground was glowing.

As for what they were hoping to achieve with this, that too soon became apparent, as white smoke began to rise from that one point and a scorching odor wafted through the air. Having achieved their desired results, Sli and Lime reverted back to their usual blob forms and bounced over to me.

“Lord Liam, Lord Liam!”

“You like it?”

“Yeah, that was incredible,” I said. “How did you do it?”

“Gather light!”

“Then the ground burns!”

“Er...” That doesn’t really explain anything... Or rather, they’re just describing what happened. I thought of asking them to elaborate, but they looked so pleased with themselves that I didn’t have it in me to say it.

“You see...” Lardon began, catching my attention. “Long ago, after humans first invented eyeglasses, it eventually became commonplace enough for nobles to order them for their children. Then the children began to use them for play—by concentrating the sun’s rays over a line of ants and burning them.”

“Really? That was a thing back then?”

“Indeed. Sounds like just what children would enjoy, no? Having the power to burn living things even without magic or fire?”

“I...guess so?” I really didn’t get the appeal, though...

“In any case, this follows the same logic. The ground heats up under the sun. Does it not stand to reason, then, that the more concentrated the sun’s rays, the hotter the ground becomes?”

“Oh, you’re right!” When she put it that way, it made complete sense. Sunlight was hot—hotter yet when concentrated into one stream.

“Although, as you can see, it can do no more than burn a few ants,” Lardon mused. When I didn’t respond, she asked, “What is it?”

“Lord Liam?”

“What’s wrong?”

I’d fallen into thought, and after a while, an idea struck me. Immediately raising my hand, I chanted “Mirror!” and manifested a thin polished glass in my palm, reflecting the sun’s light. With a swipe of my hand, I tilted the mirror to bend the light toward the ground.

“Mirror, threefold!” With multicasting, I summoned three more mirrors and adjusted their angles so they were all facing the same spot. I was basically doing the same thing as Sli and Lime.

“Ah, using mirrors instead of glass. You learn quick.”

“Well, I did give it plenty of thought.”

“Did you now?”

“Yeah.” I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and gathered my focus. This was a pretty simple spell, so it shouldn’t be too hard to cast a lot of it. “Amelia Emilia Claudia... Mirror, a hundred and onefold!”

Mirrors filled the air around us, all of which I adjusted to the right angle. Once all the beams were concentrated into one point...

“Whoa!” I yelped in surprise. I wasn’t expecting it to work this well...

“Oh?”

“Wow!”

“So cool!”

With Lardon, Sli, and Lime, I watched in awe as the light gathered by 101 mirrors easily burned through the miniature mountain in the garden.

.246

Some time later, I set off into the sky above the city, high enough that the monsters looked no bigger than ants, and swept my gaze across the land. My eyes locked in on a mountain range so far away that the contour of its gentle slopes seemed to blur with the horizon. Most likely, I wouldn’t have even spotted it had the weather not been so clear today.

“That’ll do,” I muttered.

Lardon hummed. “Will it reach?”

“Probably.”

“Very well, then. Give it a try.”

I nodded and spread my arms wide. “Mirror, a hundred and onefold!”

Layers of mirrors extended from my hands, a near-equal number on both sides forming into an extension of my limbs. Of course, I said “extension,” but with this many, it looked more like my arms had gotten dozens of times longer.

My next step was to ensure these mirrors captured sunlight. I adjusted the angles, lining them parallel with the ground and slowly working my way toward the distant slopes. This called for intense focus—not a problem for me, given the lack of any external variables at present. Eventually, all 101 beams gathered into one point and melted the distant mountain range, adding an artificial touch to its gentle and natural slopes. I observed this with a hum, satisfied by the results of my experiment, before banishing the mirrors.

“Impressive... I have to say, this is the most remarkable application of magic I’ve observed from you to date.”

“Really?”

“Indeed. None of my attacks can survive that distance before dissipating, yet yours remained powerful enough to alter such distant terrain.”

“Well, this far is nothing for the sun’s rays,” I pointed out.

Lardon chuckled. “You make a good point,” she conceded, though it sounded like she left a few things unsaid. Regardless, the impressed undertone to her voice remained—no, I’d even say it grew more pronounced. “Would this not be worthy of being called the ultimate offensive magic spell?”

“No way,” I said, instantly shutting her down. Much as I appreciated the compliment, that was far from the truth.

“Oh? Why not?”

“I’m basically just deflecting the sun’s rays. It’s less magic and more...a trick of sorts.”

“Aha, I see...”

“Cloudy skies or rainy weather are all it takes to render it useless, not to mention it’s inherently unusable at night,” I explained. “If I attempt this on the ground, fog and dust could come into the equation—all stuff that can be artificially made with magic, if anyone wanted to interrupt me. And that’s not all! You mentioned your attacks couldn’t reach as far, but that means you could still reach partway through, right?”

“Hmm... So you are saying that there are countless ways to interrupt the rays as they travel.”

“Exactly. Even paper or cloth would do the trick—depending on the distance, of course.”

“When you put it that way, it certainly seems to have many weaknesses.”

“That’s because it does. It works wonders when everything’s in place, but it’s a bust the moment any tiny thing goes wrong.”

Lardon chuckled. “Quite the volatile spell.”

“Well, I don’t think that’s a bad thing.” I smiled—I could tell I’d stirred her curiosity. “It can’t be used like ordinary attack spells, but that just means—”

“It can serve as a last resort?”

Well, that might be giving it too much credit, what with how skewed and sensitive the technique was, but I nodded anyway. She wasn’t too far off, I thought; it was an additional option available if the circumstances called for it. “Besides, I can also optimize the circumstances myself—that makes a world of difference.”

“Hmph... The best way to avoid any obstructions is to simply shoot the other way,” Lardon teased.

“What’s the point in... Huh?”

“Hmm? What is it?”

“The other way...” I mumbled, quickly falling into thought. That phrase just sparked a certain image in my mind.

“Oh? Are you thinking of aiming away from your target and making the beam curve?”

“No, that’s not how light works...” I smiled dryly. I could probably manage that with mana, but not with light—it was just inherently impossible. “You see, I... Never mind, it’ll probably be faster to just show you.”

“Very well. You have my attention.”

I began my slow descent—not straight down to the city, but to a gentle slope toward what seemed to be an empty area in the outskirts. Closer inspection revealed that it was indeed a vast stretch of empty land—just what I needed. Once I softly touched down, I chanted, “Mirror, thirty-onefold.”

“Oh? Only thirty-one?” Lardon asked, intrigued by the shift.

It was definitely a huge downgrade from earlier, but this was just what I needed for this scaled-down experiment. The concentrated light shone down on the ground, melting it into a hot and goopy mess; I didn’t know if this qualified as lava, but it definitely looked the part. Once it grew to the size of a puddle, it even began to bubble and boil.

“This,” I said, “can’t be obstructed.”

“Indeed. It is not even an attack.”

“Not an attack, no, but it’s jam-packed with extreme heat—a type of power in and of itself, and much stronger than the mana used to produce it,” I added. “Admittedly, we’re derailing a bit...but anyway, next up is to come up with a way to utilize this.”

I sighed, falling back into thought. Forget the whole offensive magic thing for a second. How can I make use of these extreme lavalike temperatures?

Lardon’s laugh snapped me out of my spiral. “You always do come up with the most fascinating ideas,” she mused. “This one is especially interesting—and I happen to have something in mind. Allow me to lend you my aid.”

From a divine dragon like Lardon, that was certainly something to look forward to. Just like that, excitement and expectation bubbled within me.

.247

Lardon, in her human form, strolled through the mountain on her own two feet. As I trailed behind her, a smile tugged on my lips. “Strange...” I remarked.

“Hmm?” She threw a glance over her shoulder, her pace uninterrupted.

“This might be my first time walking with you like this. We usually fly to places.”

“Ah. True. We flew to this mountain too,” she replied, turning her attention back to our surroundings.

Her head had been on a swivel ever since we entered this mountain trail, clearly on the lookout for something. I’d missed my chance to ask earlier, but my curiosity finally got the better of me. “What are you looking for?”

“Have you ever seen a beehive?”

“Like under a tree or eaves?”

“Yes. But have you ever seen one cut open?”

“Oh, you mean the hexagonal formation inside?”

“Precisely.” Lardon nodded, her gaze still wandering. “You see, that formation is highly fascinating. It is extremely sturdy against heavy weight but is weak to impacts from the sides. A human could stand on it and it would maintain its structure, but a small poke from the side could send it crumbling.”

“Oh...” I never knew that, actually. “You’re right, that is fascinating.”

“The same can be said for paper,” she continued, further piquing my interest. “Horizontally, a stack of paper is soft enough to bend around the middle, but set it vertically and it can even carry some weight. Have you ever seen this in practice?”

“Huh... Yeah, I have.” Take books, for example. When set up vertically, you could actually place some stuff on top. I’d made use of it a few times myself, in fact. “I get it... So they work the same way.”

“Indeed. In any case, though the precise reason escapes me, hexagons maximize vertical strength.”

I hummed, intrigued. “Wow. You’re so knowledgeable, Lardon.”

Her only response was a quiet huff as she returned to scanning our surroundings. I was pretty ignorant when it came to anything outside magic, but I was sure Lardon’s pool of knowledge was impressive even by normal standards.

“So, uh... Is that related to what you’re looking for?”

“Oh? I’m impressed you could tell. This is not your forte, after all.”

“I mean, you wouldn’t have explained all that for no good reason.” This was less about my perception and more about how well I knew Lardon. She wasn’t the type to explain all that just as quick and fun little trivia. I was sure this had something to do with the mirror spell—I just didn’t know what exactly.

“Is that so?” Lardon chuckled. “Indeed, I was preluding to the main topic. Now you understand that there are things in this world that are weak on one facet yet strong on another.”

I nodded firmly. That point got through to me loud and clear.

“You are a prime example of this,” she said, much to my surprise. “You are a genius among geniuses when it comes to magic. Outside of that, however... Let’s see... Do you know how to make tea?”

“Erm... Boil some water, then add in the tea leaves?”

“And if you wish to drink a second cup?”

“Huh? Um... Then just add in some more water?”

Lardon smirked. “Case in point.”

“Ah... Was I wrong? I don’t even know what I got wrong...” Knowing Lardon, though, she already saw this coming, and this was exactly the point she wanted to demonstrate.

“You are like a hexagonal formation crumbling from a horizontal impact,” she pointed out. “What I am looking for is of a similar nature.”

I hummed. “So, what’s it strong against?”

“Heat,” she answered.

“By how much?”

“Enough to withstand my attempts to melt it.”

“What? Seriously?”

“Yes. On the flip side, it is weak to impacts.”

“How weak?”

“As weak as glass.”

“What?!” My jaw dropped. Granted, maybe glass wasn’t so fragile as to warrant such a reaction, but this thing could supposedly withstand Lardon’s attempts at melting it—I’d like to believe my shock was entirely justified. “Wow... I never would’ve imagined there was such a thing in this world.”

“Moreover,” she added, “its tenderness means it is easy to reshape.”

“Hmm, true...”

Suddenly, Lardon stopped in her tracks. “Aha.”

“Oh?” I jogged to her side and followed her gaze to a bizarre lump of earth that seemed to stand out from its surroundings. “What is this?”

“An anthill of blue ants.”

“Blue ants...?” I shuffled a bit closer and found countless tiny insects crawling to and fro in the lump of earth. “Oh, it is an anthill. But...you called them blue ants? They look more green than blue to me, though.”

Lardon waved the comment away. “I’ve no interest in humans’ perception of color. I simply call them as they were named.”

“Okay.” I shrugged. “So, are these...?”

Lardon smirked. “Try burning them...if you can, that is.”

“Ah... So this is what you’ve been looking for.” I looked at the anthill with newfound interest, recalling how Lardon said she’d failed to melt these things. “I doubt I can burn something you couldn’t, but, well...might as well try,” I muttered, eliciting a chuckle from Lardon.

No point holding back either. I amplified my mana with an aria and summoned 101 mirrors in the air. The sun’s rays shone a dazzling white as they gathered onto this lone anthill, heating it up more and more, until finally, it burst into flames.

“Huh...?”

“The ants themselves can be burnt,” Lardon told me.

“Oh...” I turned my gaze down and watched as countless little ants perished in the inferno.

Okay, so these guys are just ordinary bugs after all. The thing Lardon couldn’t burn was their anthill—or so I thought, until I watched a portion of it melt down under the concentrated heat. What?! I blinked in surprise, but soon I found my answer. Only the outer layers melted away—its skin and flesh, if I were to liken this anthill to an animal. Its “bones,” however, remained completely intact.

The heat of the sun continued to beam down with pinpoint precision, engulfing the anthill and its immediate surroundings in flames. Eventually, smoke rose up to the clear blue sky and the flames themselves turned blue, yet all the while the “bones” showed no signs of melting—far from it; they hardly even changed color under the heat.

These black “bones” stood steadfast amid a sea of blue flames. The sight felt so surreal; this attack had gouged out a distant mountain, yet here was this tiny anthill, surviving under the heat.

“Wow, this sure is something...” I marveled.

“Light produces no physical impact,” Lardon explained. “Keep at it for the whole day and the outcome will not change.”

“For sure.” I definitely couldn’t imagine this thing budging.

“But also, you can mold that as you would clay,” Lardon added. “So imagine—what if you were to mold it into some form of vessel?”

“Then...it could infinitely withstand concentrated light.”

“Precisely.”

“I see... Wow...” The blue flames reflected brightly in my eyes as I stared at the undaunted black “bones” within, my mind whirling with ideas on how I could make use of this.

.248

“By the way...” I frowned. “These...blue ants, was it? They’re normal ants, aren’t they?”

“Indeed they are. Why? Are you hankering to toy with another nest, perhaps flood it with water instead?”

“I wasn’t going to play with it...” I chuckled dryly.

Like a lot of children, I used to enjoy playing with insects and bugs, as did the other kids in my neighborhood; I’m sure it was just a universal experience for kids everywhere. I guessed Lardon was just driving home the point that these blue ants really were just ordinary bugs.

“I just want to know—how could such ordinary ants make such a special material?”

“Who knows? There are several theories, but this wouldn’t be the first time a species uses their preferred material to build their home,” Lardon answered. “Humans have yet to make use of these blue ant nests, but I recall they highly value those of the white ants.”

“White ants? Why?”

“Because they build their anthills with high-quality clay. I’ve heard it’s perfect for pottery.”

“Oh, wow...” Frankly, that was a lot easier to imagine than what these blue ants made.

“Swallows do the same with their nests, as do humans with their homes. Why else would nobles have so much gold in their mansions?”

“Aha ha... True, true.” I guessed we were all the same in the end—our homes consisted of the things we liked. “I wonder how much heat this thing can withstand?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never made a genuine effort to burn it down.”

“Guess I’ll give it a try tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Best to start first thing in the morning. We don’t know how long it’ll take.”

“Ah, I see,” Lardon said, nodding. With everything wrapped up, she quietly faded away, and I felt a massive presence slowly fill my body. Somehow, the sensation made me imagine a gigantic dragon squeezing in through a tiny door, and I had to hold back a laugh.

Shaking the funny image out of my head, I summoned my item box and poured out some water—I always made sure to stay stocked—onto what remained of the anthill, no more than a skeletal frame at this point. But as soon as the water met with the red-hot remnants, it instantly evaporated and explosively burst into steam.

No, wait. This doesn’t just look explosive, it’s... “Whoa... That was an actual explosion.”

“This is what happens when stored heat is suddenly released,” Lardon explained.

“Oh yeah... Manastones work the same way.”

“Take a look at what’s left after it cools.”

“Let’s see...” I crouched down once the steam dissipated and gave the skeletal frame a tentative poke. “Oh! It’s just like clay!” I must have used a bit too much water; the clay was a little moist, more like mud now, but soft and malleable all the same.

Once again, I found myself marveling at the fact that this ordinary-looking material was able to withstand Lardon’s fire.

The next morning, I found a spot just far enough from the city to keep it safe from the possible effects of the experiment. With the city just barely visible in the distance, I took out the remains of the blue ant nest—now a fist-sized ball of mud—and plucked out a pea-sized bit between my thumb and index finger.

“Is that enough?” Lardon asked.

“This is an experiment,” I reminded her. “Besides, I’m curious how long this small piece can hold.”

As Lardon hummed, I made the pea-sized bead float in the air, and with an aria I summoned 101 mirrors—the most I could manage. Beneath the clear blue sky, rays upon rays of light beamed down on the small bead, instantly coating its dark muddy surface in a dazzling sheen of light.

After watching it for a full minute, I remarked, “It’s holding up.”

“With anything else, a few seconds would have been all you needed,” Lardon mused.

“I know, right? I didn’t think it’d last a full minute.”

“I did say I couldn’t destroy it with heat.”

“Still, it’s pretty unbelievable...” I muttered as Lardon snickered. Soon, five minutes had passed with hardly any sign of change. The bead continued to shine brightly under the concentrated light. “Nothing’s happening...”

“Bear in mind, this is with light only,” Lardon said. “Perhaps if there was something else...”

“Hmm... True.”

“I’m suddenly feeling quite excited myself.”

“Me too! I wonder how long it can last.” However, after five more minutes, I started feeling a little dubious. “Did I aim right...?” As soon as the words left my lips, my hands flew up to my mouth with a gasp.

Lardon huffed. “Nothing to be ashamed of. It certainly hasn’t changed at all this entire time.”

“Yeah... But, I mean, the light is clearly hitting it.”

“So, what will you do? It’s only been ten minutes, but will you check?”

“Right... I probably should.” I had decided to start this experiment on a separate day to maximize daylight, but like Lardon said, it had only been ten minutes—a quick test at this point should do no harm.

I undid my spell. All 101 mirrors disappeared, freeing the muddy bead from the onslaught of light, but it was still shining a dazzling white. “Hmm... I’ll try putting it out on the ground.”

Lardon chuckled. “Why not water?”

“We already saw how that went yesterday,” I replied with a sigh.

Ten minutes might not be a long time generally, but it was longer than the time I’d spent heating up the anthill yesterday. Besides, I didn’t want some huge steam explosion blocking my view—what would be the whole point of this experiment, then? On the other hand, I might boil the earth into lava if I use the ground instead, but still...

I nodded firmly. “The ground it is.”

“Sounds swell.”

With Lardon’s approval, I lowered the shining bead—slowly and carefully, until it finally touched the ground.

“Ab—!”

My instincts kicked in—I leaped backward while setting up an Absolute Force Shield in front of me. Just a split second later, the shining bead—having just touched the ground—burst into a blinding flash and exploded. It was instantly apparent that the force of this explosion trumped yesterday’s by a landslide.

My feet shuffled backward, retreating, as I carefully maintained my barrier. The explosion hadn’t let up; it engulfed me completely, so I sped up my retreat until finally, I made it out of the chaos—and the sight that welcomed me was astounding.

“No way...”

A perfectly round crater, around fifty meters in diameter, with absolutely nothing inside. It was as if the earth had been gouged out by some invisible force.

“Goodness...” Lardon muttered, equally speechless.

That settled it. The ten minutes I’d spent on this material from the blue ant nest wasn’t for nothing, for it had, in fact, been absorbing all that light energy this entire time.

.249

This extremely heat-resistant material made from blue ant nests was as useful as it was a mouthful. When I had asked Lardon what it was actually called, all she told me was, “The humans never cared for it, so it is nameless.”

There was no point in asking her further after that, so in the meantime, I decided to go ahead and call these things “blue ant beads.” With that settled, I returned to the palace and found myself a spot in the yard, then lined up three of these beads in front of me. They floated in the air as I heated them up in succession with my usual mirror spell.

“Aaand...that’s one minute,” I muttered, dispelling the mirrors.

Lardon hummed. “So you heated them up for one minute each. What for?”

“As prep for this next step,” I answered.

Summoning my item box, I took out three large casks—the kind you see being used as tables in taverns—and filled them up with equal amounts of water. Finally, I dropped one bead in each cask. The water inside began to bubble and boil.

“And now, we wait.”

“What are you trying to figure out?”

“For how long these beads can store heat,” I replied. “Yesterday, we learned that these things release all their stored heat the moment they touch the ground—even though it was completely stable while floating in the air.”

“Indeed. For most things, heat usually leaks out through the air.”

“In other words, this isn’t like most things,” I agreed. “Now, here we have three beads all heated to the same degree but not at the same time. Depending on how much water evaporates in their respective casks, we can then check how much heat has leaked from the beads over time.”

Lardon was silent for a while, before responding with a cryptic hum. I tensed up. “What’s wrong? That sounded...concerning.”

“No, it’s nothing of the sort,” said Lardon with a quiet chuckle.

Okay, now that’s more like her usual reaction. What gives, though?

“I was just thinking that you sounded like a scholar.”

“A scholar? Really?”

“Yes. Ah, fret not—I mean this in a good way. You may continue.”

“All right...” I was starting to worry if I should quit, but I was glad that didn’t turn out to be the case.

I returned my attention to the experiment. These beads were heated up for just a minute each, and with fewer mirrors than yesterday. I waved away the billowing steam from the boiling water and watched as it gradually cooled and the steam slowly settled down. Finally, I peered inside the casks.

“All the casks have around the same amount of water left,” I observed. “Which means...the heat doesn’t leak while the beads are in the air.”

“Indeed. Even manastones leak mana and eventually dissipate. In that regard, this material is quite superb.”

I nodded absently, my gaze stuck on the beads.

“What are you thinking of?”

“Oh... I just thought of a way to make use of this.”

“Oh? Very well, go on.”

With a nod, I took one of the blue ant beads from its cask, suspended it in the air, then reheated it for exactly one minute. Lardon waited without a word, though I could sense her anticipation and expectation. Then I cast Wrapper, one of the spells contained in my very first Ancient Memoria, on the bead.

“What are you doing?” Lardon finally asked.

“Making the bead float in a balloon...or something like that.”

“Aha... So, you are sealing it untouched,” she mused. “And how exactly will you make use of this?”

“Like this.” I dug a hole in the ground just big enough to fit the wrapped bead. Then I tossed it in and filled the hole back up, leaving a small lump on the ground. “It’s just a quick test, so this’ll do. Now...” Bending down, I picked up a stone large enough to fit snugly in the palm of my hand and tossed it high overhead. “Let’s say that rock’s a foot—and then it steps on that spot.”

Under Lardon’s attentive gaze, the stone landed on the lump, where it instantly heated up and melted.

“Then that’ll happen,” I finished.

“I see... A trap, hmm?”

“Yep. We just had a war with Parta, so this is where my mind went to first,” I admitted sheepishly.

“I see no problem with that. You could lay these out along the national border—that red wall—and even in the more obscure and uncommon entry points. Intruders would be in for a very unpleasant surprise.”

“They sure would.” Using these for national defense didn’t sound too bad. “Oh, and one more thing.”

“Oh?” Lardon hummed, implicitly urging me on.

With a furtive nod, I took off into the sky. I flew up above the buildings and through the clouds, higher and higher and higher—as high into the sky as my magic could take me without once looking down.

.250

As my ascent continued steadily past the clouds, I narrowed my eyes and muttered, “I knew it.”

“Knew what?” asked Lardon.

I could have answered her right away, but I wanted to make sure—no, extra sure—of my answer. My ascent slowed as I redirected my attention inward, to sensing the power coursing within my body.

“Up here, I use up less mana to fly,” I said, finally 120 percent certain of my observation. “That...force? Or whatever that pulls us to the earth—it’s weaker up here.”

“Oh? You decided to measure it with your mana consumption? How very like you,” Lardon mused.

“It’s been on my mind, but it’s really hard to tell at just the usual height I fly up to.”

“Certainly. Even all the way up here, you still needed to focus your senses to confirm it.” Lardon hummed. “Then this must be part of why you came up here, yes?”

“You can tell?”

“I know you,” she said in amusement. “You are clever when it comes to magic but also tend to tunnel vision on whatever catches your interest. Had you come up here for a different reason, you likely wouldn’t have noticed the meager difference in mana consumption at all.”

“Yeah, probably not.” I paused, waiting for a response, then frowned when none came. “What is it? Did I say something strange?”

“Oh, not at all. I just found your answer very pleasant.”

“My answer...? Which part?”

“Forget it. Tell me why you’ve come here.”

“Huh? Oh, uh... Sure. But before that...” I looked inward again and shook my head. “The mana cost is still dropping... I’ll only know if there’s any point to all this once I determine how far up I have to go till it stops.”

“I suppose I will have to stay tuned, then?”

“Aha ha...”

She seemed oddly excited, like she was looking forward to what I had planned. I appreciated the sentiment, but it was also a bit scary to have such high hopes placed on me by such a powerful being. Regardless, I continued my ascent, higher and higher, waiting until the mana cost for using this flight magic would stop dropping—but it didn’t, and I continued upward until the mountains below looked like mere pebbles.

Finally, I stopped ascending and took a moment to sharpen my focus. “Wow...”

“Well? Are the results as you expected?”

“Hmm? Were you expecting this too?”

“I could just tell that you’d been hoping for this outcome.”

“Oh, I see.” I nodded. “Well, you’re right. I’m not using flight magic anymore.”

“And yet you aren’t falling, which means the earth is no longer exerting its pulling force on you.”

“Probably,” I replied. “It sure is hard to breathe up here, though.”

“I would suppose so, given how hard it is to breathe already high in the mountains or even at the height you normally fly up to.”

“Er... I don’t really notice.”

“Really now?” Lardon chuckled. “So, you’ve confirmed your hypothesis. What now?”

“First, we start with this.” I took out a blue ant bead, held it up in front of my face, then let go—it remained suspended in the air. “Amel— Whoa!” The bead suddenly drifted away from me, so I grabbed it in a hurry. “Whew... What just happened?”

“You blew it away,” Lardon answered. “With no force being exerted upon it, the bead was easily pushed by your breath when you spoke.”

“Oh, I get it...” I made sure to hold on to the bead this time as I restarted my aria. “Amelia Emilia Claudia... Mirror, a hundred and onefold!” Then I let go of the bead and kept my mouth closed just to be safe. Actually, from what Lardon said, I probably needed to hold my breath too.

Lardon chuckled. “Quite the struggle, hmm?”

I could only respond with a strained smile as I adjusted the mirrors and directed the rays of light onto the bead. Thankfully, the sun’s rays couldn’t blow it away like my breath did. I heated it up for one minute like I’d been doing for the recent experiments, and once I was done, I finally turned my face away and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Are you done?”

“Yep.”

“What do you intend to do with this?”

“Well, this blue ant bead is packed with heat that won’t dissipate, right? And way up here, it won’t be pulled back down and can float forever. So...” I gently blew downward on the bead—intentionally this time—and watched as it fell to the earth, accelerating as it gradually entered the range of its pull. “We won’t see it from here, but—”

“It is essentially an aerial bomb,” Lardon finished.

“Right. I doubt anyone else could come all the way up here, so I can just store these here as weapons.”

Lardon chuckled. “Ah, you think of the most fascinating things.”

“It just came to me... I’m glad it’s useful.”

“Useful? No, this is more than just useful.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

Lardon chuckled. “Say you use this, so a radiant white orb rains down from the heavens, powerful enough to swallow up an entire village.”

“Yeah, I could probably make adjustments as it falls.”

“Now, what would the humans think as they witness that sight?”

“Well... I wouldn’t know.” Why was she suddenly asking me, anyway?

“You see, I’ve done something similar,” she continued, “and the humans looked to it in fear and called it the wrath of the heavens.”

“‘The wrath of the heavens’...” I murmured, struggling to understand.

.251

“What a coincidence,” Lardon mused, “that it fits the bill so perfectly.”

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

“It wouldn’t be quite so suitable as an embodiment of divine wrath if it burned up before reaching the ground, no?”

“Oh... Yeah, these blue ant beads can definitely reach the ground. Why, though? Is there stuff that does burn up?”

“Have you ever seen a shooting star?”

“Um... That thing that appears in the night sky?”

“Correct. You are familiar with meteorites, the objects you convert into mana. Shooting stars—also known as meteors—are the product of meteorites burning up as they fall toward the earth,” she explained. “Among the few times they reach the ground before burning up, they may sometimes contain extremely rare metals that humans cannot process. Weapons made of these materials are called meteor swords.”

“Oh, I think I’ve heard of those! So that’s why they’re called that...”

“It seems you’ve learned something new today,” said Lardon, but when I nodded in agreement, she tittered. “Although, knowing you, you will forget this as soon as tomorrow.”

I would’ve loved to refute her, but metals and weapons certainly weren’t my field of interest. Saying I’d forget as soon as tomorrow was a bit much, but no doubt I would eventually. The topic hadn’t exactly stirred up my curiosity either.

“Do meteorites sometimes contain magic or new types of mana?”

Lardon chuckled. “I had a feeling you would ask.”

“Ha ha...” Now I felt a bit weird for actually asking. No wonder she was so amused.

“Not as far as I know,” she answered.

“I see. That’s too bad.” Though I hadn’t exactly had high hopes to begin with.

“We’ve digressed quite a bit,” Lardon said. “In any case, my point is that this material is exceptionally robust, as it can survive the trip down to the earth without burning up.”

“Hmm...”

“What is on your mind?”

“Oh, well... I was just wondering if I could turn these blue ant beads into coating material for other stuff. It’d absorb the heat in their place, right? Then anything could survive that trip.”

“Why not use it for the outer walls of your city’s structures, then? That would make the interior much cooler during the summer.”

“True... But then wouldn’t it be too cold during winter? We wouldn’t want them absorbing all the heat—then there wouldn’t be any left to pour in through the windows.”

“Ah, you make a good point. In that case, it should be suitable for, say, the roofs of gazebos. Humans only use those to cool off during the summer, do they not?”

“That’s a great idea, actually.”

“Umbrellas would work as well. Human girls would probably like that.”

“This material really does have a lot of potential, doesn’t it?”

Lardon and I exchanged ideas like lighthearted chatter as we slowly descended back to the earth. Now that I had confirmed my hypothesis—that I could leave blue ant beads way up in the sky—my business up here was done. It wasn’t like I was keen on dishing out that “divine wrath” Lardon mentioned; I could already imagine what would happen if I rained down such a flashy attack from all the way up here.

“Hmm...?”

“What is it this time?”

Something caught my attention, so I stopped my descent and stared down below. “Do clouds always form this high up?”

“Sometimes, yes,” Lardon replied. “Rain forms in many ways. One is when thin clouds rise high up into the sky. Pay attention—it is colder up here, is it not?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“When it is cold, the moisture in the clouds forms into droplets that fall to the earth. You should be familiar with this phenomenon; since you mentioned windows in winter earlier, you must have noticed they turn wet when it’s cold, yes?”

“Oh, you’re right... So that’s how rain forms, huh?”

“Indeed. Well, one of many ways, that is.”

“Then, could I make it rain if I just cool the clouds down there with magic?”

“Of course.” Lardon chuckled. “As always, you’re quick to apply magic to things.”

“It just comes to me, you know? One thought sparks an idea, then another...”

“How very like you,” she mused. “That your mind is geared toward magic...and that you never bear any malice.”

“Malice...?” I cocked my head and furrowed my brows. Where did that come from?

“I’ve just come up with a brilliant idea. Come, accompany me as we abuse this power.”

“What...?”

“Fret not. This will not go badly for you.”

I nodded. “All right.”

“Oh? Are you sure?” Lardon asked, and rightfully so, given what she’d just invited me to do.

“I trust you. You said it won’t go badly, so it won’t.”

Lardon chuckled. “You’ve certainly become a good king, even if you never intended for it.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind that,” she said, dismissive. “Let us start. Your task is simple: Follow me to several places and make it rain.”

“Um... Is that all?”

“Yes, that is all.”

“Okay. Show me the way, then.”

My slow descent continued, this time under Lardon’s guidance, as I forced rain from the clouds with large-scale frost magic.

Far below, clouds condensed and scattered countless droplets of rain onto the ground.

“Well done. This should be the last.”

“Okay... So, what was the point of all this?”

“To explain simply, rain is predictable,” Lardon began. “The clouds ‘develop’ as they float through the sky and are ‘ready’ by the time they reach certain places. That is why some places tend to have rainy weather and some remain dry.”

“Oh, I see...” I twirled my finger in the air as I processed Lardon’s explanation.

“What I had you do,” she continued, “was to force the rain out before the clouds reached their supposed destination. What do you think that means?”

“Er, well...” Frankly, I had no clue—and from Lardon’s amused chuckle, she must have already seen this coming.

“It means it will no longer rain where it must,” she supplied. “Which brings us to the main point: The places I guided you to were rain clouds all along the path inside the Duchy of Parta’s territory. If we keep this up...well, surely, you’ve figured it out by now?”

“Oh...!” Like she said, the picture was now clear as day to me: Since the rain meant for the duchy had fallen elsewhere, now there was none left for them.

“I must thank you. With this, we’ve gained a new way to pressure the duchy.”

“No, well, it’s not like I’d planned this...”

I had no idea why she was thanking me, but when I shared this story with Dyphon at a later date, she told me, “Obviously, she’s still mad about almost dying,” and I couldn’t help but slap myself on the head for not realizing till then.

.252

My gaze lingered on the clouds far below as I fell into a thoughtful silence.

“A copper for your thoughts?” Lardon said.

“Well, I was just wondering if this whole situation is gonna go on for a while.”

“It will,” she replied immediately. “To begin with, we are doing this to pressure the Duchy of Parta. Do you remember how far we are planning to take it?”

“How far? Uh...” She wasn’t trying to test my insight, but rather, she was simply asking if I remembered—which meant she must’ve told me before. I scoured through my memories, but no dice. “Sorry, I can’t remember...”

Lardon chuckled. “No matter. We plan to corner them to the point where, even after reconciliation, they will eventually feel pressed to retaliate.”

“Oh! Right, right—I remember now.” That finally jogged my memory. “So Scarlet’s current round of negotiations aren’t the end, huh? Hmm... Guess I should automate this whole thing, then.”

“That would be unnecessary.”

“What? But isn’t this going to last a while?”

“Yes, but it is vital that we show we’ve had a hand in this occurrence. If you keep this up for long, they will simply end up cursing the gods for a drought.”

“Oh, I get it. We need them to know that we’re doing this. That’ll light a fire under them.”

“Correct. You need not automate it as you did the city’s infrastructure. In fact, the simpler, the better, for that will spell out the message loud and clear for them.”

“Then maybe a simple spell will...” I trailed off with a hum before shaking my head. “No, I guess there’s no need to make a new spell at all.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“To make it rain, all we need to do is to fly up to this height and cast frost magic, right? Well, we’ve already got a bunch of monsters who can do both.”

Lardon briefly lapsed into silence. “Impressive...”

“What?” Her sudden compliment took me aback. What’s this about?

“It seems I’ve still been underestimating you thus far.”

“How so?”

“I thought you would try to invent a new spell as usual...even though it is unnecessary in this case. But it seems you remain open-minded yet.”

“Uh...” I cocked my head. “Is it really that impressive?”

“Most become far too obsessed with their specialties.”

“Hmm... I kinda get it, but I kinda don’t.”

She chuckled. “And that is fine. All I mean to say is that you’ve exceeded my expectations.”

“Uh-huh...”

“You also would not have conceived such a solution had you not been so well-versed in magic.”

“Aw, thanks!” Now this compliment made me happy, all the more since it came from Lardon herself.

“In any case, unnecessary it may be, but pray tell: What kind of spell would you have made?”

“Ah, well... I came up with one off the top of my head, actually. It’s probably faster to just show you.” Looking around, I didn’t spot any usable clouds in the vicinity, so I flew higher into the sky. Once I found a suitable cloud, I positioned myself right above it, summoned my item box, and took out a certain white item.

Lardon hummed. “That certainly brings back memories. That is the white charcoal you made, no?”

“Yep. Right after I just learned magic.”

“What will you do with it?”

“Watch.” I pulverized the white charcoal and scattered it over the cloud. A while later, it began to rain. “Aha, I knew it...” Still, I breathed a sigh of relief. For a second there, I’d had my doubts since this was a completely different method than the one I’d been employing until now.

“Oh? What did you do?”

“Moisture turns into water when it sticks to something, not just clouds. That’s why windows get wet in the winter, right?”

“I see... So you scattered the charcoal bits to serve as media—or rather, ‘seeds’ for rain.” Lardon chuckled. “I am impressed you thought of that.”

“We might not even need flight magic to do this. We could just have these launched into the sky if I make use of Wrapper like I did with the blue ant beads.”

“Yes, that certainly makes things simpler.”

“Or we could also launch them up with a spell. But it might be harder to control when they’re all these tiny bits...”

“Indeed. That would call for much precise control.”

“True.”

“What else?”

“Let’s see...”

Amid the clouds, I continued to answer Lardon’s questions and listed various ways I could make it rain with magic.

.253

Lavish furnishings and extravagant ornaments decorated the room, the most eye-catching of which was the round oversized table in the center large enough to dwarf any commoner’s bed. Two individuals sat on opposing ends, facing one another yet too far apart—an apt depiction of the gaping abyss between their nations.

One was Tristan, the grand duke of Parta. He was gripping a sheet of paper in his hands, his eyebrows knit so tightly that the creases could have very well held the paper for him.

“Th-The conditions have hardly changed,” he protested as he raised his face, looking to the opposite side of the table.

There sat his adversary, the former princess of Jamille and current ambassador extraordinary and plenipotentiary of Liam-Lardon, Scarlet.

“Naturally,” she replied. Not an ounce of the grand duke’s frustration reflected on her composed features as she breezily took a sip from her teacup. “We have no reason to ease our conditions.”

“B-But this is—”

“Your Royal Highness.” Scarlet’s voice, cold and firm, made Tristan flinch and swallow his words. “I have received one simple order from my master: See to it that you accept...or kick you off your seat on my way out.”

“P-Preposterous! And you call this a negotiation?!” Tristan slammed his hands on the table as he jumped to his feet, ironically knocking over his chair in the process.

The clattering echoed awkwardly in the room, but Scarlet simply smiled gracefully in response. “You seem to be misunderstanding,” she said coolly. “I am not negotiating with you. I am simply delivering the message.”

“Wh-What?!”

“Strange... How very strange indeed. Your Royal Highness, what makes you believe that you have the leverage to negotiate with us?” she pressed, her cold gaze piercing the grand duke’s frazzled features. “Though my master does not fancy such lowly displays, I would have thought you’d be ready to prostrate yourself before him and lick his shoes if need be.” Scarlet huffed out a quiet, cynical sigh. “I suppose I was mistaken about you.”

With a level of skill that led her to attending these meetings by herself, Scarlet was single-handedly pressuring Tristan. Initially, Liam had entrusted the matter to Lardon, and Lardon had assigned the task to Scarlet and Reina—a fitting selection, given none else in their nation of monsters was adept in diplomacy.

However, there was also a huge gap in skill between the two girls. As the princess of a kingdom, Scarlet had extensive experience with greedy politics and convoluted diplomacy. Reina certainly had the aptitude for the job, but with her background as a monster, she naturally couldn’t measure up to Scarlet’s wealth of experience. After joining for the first few meetings, she’d willingly stepped back and entrusted the negotiations to Scarlet—a decision that had yet to be proven wrong to this day.

“Th-This is going too far...” the grand duke protested weakly.

“Oh my, you say the strangest things.” Scarlet’s eyebrows shot up, her expression painted in genuine shock. “Is this truly ‘too far’ for you?”

“Urgh... You say that after demanding so much of me...!” Tristan glared at Scarlet with bloodshot eyes and gritted teeth.

Unmoved, Scarlet simply brought the teacup to her lips with the same composed expression. Tristan’s cocky attitude was as unpleasant as ever, but she didn’t mind if it meant she got to see him seething. In fact, it just went to show that he was at his wit’s end—and that pleased Scarlet significantly. Her composure wasn’t even a show of superiority; she was simply in a good mood, seeing the fool who dared oppose her master writhing and struggling as he deserved.

Tristan’s resentful glare and ragged breaths settled down as he eventually collected himself. “B-By the by, Your Highness, I have an earnest offer for you.” His speech turned polite once more, though Scarlet did not miss the throbbing vein on his temple. His smile, too, appeared a tad forced.

“What is it?” she asked.

Tristan raised his hands by his head and clapped twice—a rather theatrical gesture—summoning ten burly men into the room. In pairs, they carried five large boxes to Scarlet’s side. With a nod from Tristan, they lifted the lids all at once, revealing them to be packed to the brim with gold coins and dazzling treasure.

“Oh my,” Scarlet muttered, her eyebrows shooting up.

“Please, accept my humble gift,” said Tristan.

“And with this, you are asking me to accommodate your requests?”

“Goodness, no. This is merely an expression of my sincerity.” Though he said that, this situation—and the look in his eyes—screamed otherwise. Clearly, he was trying to bribe her, the ambassador extraordinary and plenipotentiary, to ease up on their demands.

Normally, this was by no means a bad move nor a rare one in the political scene, though Scarlet herself had rarely been the direct recipient of such bribes. Plenipotentiary or not, ambassadors were typically assigned a range of target concessions by the state when sent for negotiations, and such “gifts” were often used to encourage them to assent to something closer to the minimum target.

However, in this case, the bribe only served to erase all emotion—even anger—from Scarlet’s face. Her sudden icy expression made Tristan reel back in shock.

“Again, you seem to be misunderstanding, Your Royal Highness.”

“M-Misunderstanding what...?”

“The nature of our nation, Liam-Lardon,” said Scarlet. “Simply put, we are not a country at our core. No, we are simply a group of individuals who have devoted our hearts to our master, Liam Hamilton. Our master’s words are absolute, and any transgression against him is unforgivable.”

“W-Wait, that wasn’t what I—”

“Such bribery is an affront to our loyalty and to our master’s dignity.” Keeping her cold gaze on Tristan, Scarlet cast Liamnet—now usable outside their borders thanks to Liam’s recent revisions—to recite the latest information she’d received from Liam. “As plenipotentiary, I shall now add another demand: The grand duke’s eldest son or heir is to personally deliver the duchy’s annual offerings to our nation.”

“What?!” Tristan exclaimed. Her new demand was hardly a burden on their country as a whole, but its weight was immense on nobles who valued their honor and reputation above all. “H-How could I accept such a shameful—”

“If you fail to fulfill this duty,” Scarlet continued, unfazed, “then we will not permit rain upon your territory for that year.”

“P-Permit...rain?” The absurdity of her statement made Tristan’s boiling refusal fall off his tongue. His mind reeled, failing to comprehend. He very nearly wanted to dismiss it as a bluff—that was, of course, until the figures of Liam and the seven dragons surfaced in his mind.

Tristan felt as if all hope had been lost, crushed before his very eyes.

.254

As I welcomed the night in my room, brainstorming all sorts of improvements to the city’s magic infrastructure, I received a notification on the Liamnet. It was from Scarlet and marked as urgent, so I opened it right away and read it with a thoughtful hum.

“Did something happen?”

“Ah, Lardon. Perfect timing. Scarlet sent me a message, and she wants it passed to you too,” I told her. “Looks like Tristan’s at his wit’s end. He asked for an extra day, but Scarlet said he’s just hanging by a thread.”

“I see.”

“It’s all thanks to you. She said the message I sent in the afternoon about the rain really piled on the pressure.”

“I would suppose so.”

“She also said she won’t concede an inch no matter what straws he grasps at tomorrow.”

Lardon chuckled. “Splendid. He is but a human in the end, though no doubt Scarlet also cornered him well.”

“She’s a smart woman, after all,” I agreed. “In any case, sounds like everything’s finally wrapping up tomorrow.”

“Not everything. After the ceasefire comes the real hell for Parta.”

“Oh, right.” Our plan was to pressure and corner them till they retaliated, then we’d knock them down for good. I almost forgot about that. We were far from done, all right.

“Both the masses and the upper class would have to mind their expenses from now on... But this matters not to you. You need only think of magic.”

“Okay.” I did as I was told and shifted my mind back to that exact subject. “Hmm...”

“What is it?”

“Well, that just made me realize something...” I mumbled. “Right, why didn’t I think of that? I was so focused on the emergency measure... Oh, it must be because that was the main issue at the time. But considering the end goal, I should’ve also thought to remedy the efficiency...”

“Oh? You’re looking quite excited. Have you a new idea in mind?” Lardon said, seeming rather excited herself.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Aha. Well then, explain from the beginning.”

“Right, I should. Er...” I paused for a moment as I organized the thoughts in my head, trying to figure out where to even start. “So, I’m trying to enhance the magic infrastructure, right? And I began doing this because we ran out of bloodsouls after everyone left.”

“Indeed. You’ve been preparing emergency measures in case the manastones are depleted once more.”

“Which isn’t a bad move at all. Of course, I don’t want to go overboard—maybe two or three emergency measures would do. That sounds practical enough.”

“So you’ve mentioned, yes.”

“But now that I think about it, I shouldn’t have been so focused on just that,” I continued. “I should’ve also been thinking of how to minimize the magic infrastructure’s mana consumption in the first place.”

Lardon was silent for a while, until I heard a quiet snort—followed by a burst of laughter.

“Er...”

“Aha ha ha... Ahh, excuse me. Yes, you are correct. Your initiative is commendable.”

“My...initiative?”

“Yes. You said that you should have ‘also,’ yes? Not that you should have done that instead,” Lardon pointed out. “An ancient nation once had a teaching of ‘cultivating capital, curbing costs.’ Basically, the point was that both must be done—not simply one or the other. Curbing costs can only do so much, as is the same with cultivating capital—but together, they produce great results.”

“Oh...”

“Heh heh...”

“Uh, why’re you laughing?”

“Incidentally, in a different era, there was an idiom—‘reinventing the wheel’—used to describe the act of inadvertently conceiving a preexisting concept.”

“Oh, uh...” I sheepishly cleared my throat. The wheel was a major invention in human history. Frankly, it was quite embarrassing to have it compared to my realization.

“Now then, it seems you’ve decided to curb your costs. How so?”

“I’m not exactly sure yet, but I want to check my options.”

“Oh? What will you do?”

With the moon hidden above the clouds, the mountains far beneath my feet were blanketed in pure darkness, so much so that I could hardly even discern their silhouette. Such lack of visibility was normally a burden, but right now this was just what I needed.

“Perfect.” I closed my eyes and focused. “Amelia Emilia Claudia...” My mana grew and grew, amplifying to the strongest it had been yet today. Once it reached its peak, I released my mana into my surroundings. I kept my eyes closed, as opening them would make no difference—there was nothing to see anyway. I felt my mana drape over the air and crawl over the entire mountain.

“Oh?” Lardon hummed, impressed.

Finally, I opened my eyes. Nothing had changed; we were still surrounded by utter darkness. However, I could sense my mana coating the entire mountain. Slowly, I descended to the mountain peak and began making my way down while sweeping my gaze around me.

“What are you doing?”

“I got an idea from the blue ant beads you showed me,” I explained. “It’s nothing concrete just yet, but I was just wondering if there happened to be a material—maybe an ore of sorts—that glows when coated in mana.”

“What for?”

“Currently, our streetlights are lit up with a spell, but if I can find a stone that glows with mana—”

“Then you could save on mana consumption,” Lardon finished.

I nodded. “Of course, this is all hypothetical. It might not even exist. Even if it does, it could be less efficient than just casting the spell.”

“I see... So this is what you meant by checking your options.”

“Yep.”

“As always, your mind works fast and flexible when it comes to magic,” Lardon mused. “Moreover, you just nonchalantly coated the entire mountain in your mana. I was not wrong—you’ve long surpassed the realm of humanity.”

“Well, I did chant an aria,” I reminded her, my gaze never leaving my surroundings.

“An aria, hmm? The owners of those names must be much to your fancy.”

“Mmm... That isn’t how I’d put it,” I muttered with a wince; it sounded a bit condescending. “I’d rather say I admire them.”

“Oh? They must be quite the impressive...humans?”

“Yeah, humans.”

“I suppose I must pay my respects one of these days.”

“Aha ha...” That was a very Lardon thing to say.

Suddenly, a notification lit up before my eyes. It was so bright that I couldn’t have spotted any glowing stones in the darkness even if I wanted to, so I stopped and took a look. “It’s from Scarlet,” I noted.

“Perhaps the grand duke couldn’t bear to tide through the night.”

“Maybe.” I opened up Scarlet’s message and trailed my eyes through the text. “She said Tristan wants to invite a new negotiator to the... Huh?” I froze, eyes blowing wide open as my gaze was pinned to the name on the letter.

Amelia Twilight.

My mind reeled and blanked out from the shock.

A Dragon’s Charm

In Magic City Liam, where the population was almost entirely made up of monsters, one of the few human residents—Asuna—was curled up cozily in her bed one morning when a girl suddenly barged into her room.

“Asuna! You up?”

The girl’s pigtails bounced peppily behind her, an apt reflection of her own cheery demeanor. Many would be shocked to learn, however, that this was Dyphon, one of the dragons who once ravaged the world during the Tri-Draconic War. In her human form, she appeared to be no more than a cute little girl.

“Urgh...” Under the pleasant dimness of the room, courtesy of the tightly shut curtains, Asuna struggled to just barely crack her eyes open at the sudden intrusion.

“Hey, wake up! Teach me some more stuff!”

“Dyphon...? Five more minutes, please...”

“Nuh-uh, no can do! Wakey-wakey!” Dyphon leaped onto the bed and began shaking Asuna by the shoulders—while controlling her strength, of course, for normally she could blast away an entire mountain with no more than a wave of her hand. Had the other two dragons been in the room, they would have watched her in either exasperation or disbelief.

Dyphon’s persistent shaking soon triumphed over Asuna’s lingering drowsiness. Despite the rude awakening, Asuna ultimately gave up and pushed herself off the bed, swinging her legs off the edge with a yawn. “Jeez... You’re way too pushy. Try to be a bit more considerate, will you?”

“But you’re the only one who can teach me that, uh...that thing I need to be a better girl for darling!”

“‘Charm’?”

“Yeah, that! How to be a charming girl! Teach me!” Dyphon swung her finger to point at Asuna, the momentum so great that it sent forth a gust of wind that made Asuna’s long hair flutter behind her. No doubt it would have torn her flesh to shreds at the slightest contact, but Asuna had long grown accustomed to Dyphon’s excessive power.

“Okay, okay. Then let’s go with this.” Asuna raised the palm of her hand and pressed it against Dyphon’s pointed finger.

“My finger?”

“Among others,” said Asuna, clearing her throat and putting on her best teacher voice. “Feminine charmology, lesson thirty-four: Heed your tips!”

Dyphon cocked her head. “My...tips?”

“Like your fingers or the ends of your hair—those tips.”

“Aha... Okay, I see.”

“Take good care of them, and you’ll be as charming as could be. But...”

Dyphon froze. “But...?”

“But don’t get too hung up on just the tips—boys might not even notice. Worse yet, some might even find it unpleasant.”

“R-Really?”

“Uh-huh. Dyphon, you’re trying to be charming for Liam, right?”

“Of course!”

“Then going overboard is a big no-no. Keep it simple, and in moderation.”

“Simple... In moderation...” Dyphon murmured, her eyebrows creasing in growing confusion. “S-So, uh...what should I do?”

“Wait a sec.” Asuna hopped off the bed and shuffled over to the drawer at the corner of her room. A bit of rummaging later, she procured several items and returned to Dyphon by the bed. “Stay still for me, okay?”

Dyphon nodded. “Okay.”

And so, the dragon with the power to shatter the earth let the human girl do as she pleased. Asuna took Dyphon’s slender hands in hers and gently ground down on her sharp clawlike nails, rounding them out into a softer shape.

Once she was done, Asuna opened a small bottle of nail polish and proceeded to paint Dyphon’s nails in a light pink color—a subtle shade that blended in with her skin color, though the glossy sheen added a beautiful touch to her nails nonetheless.

“Okay, this’ll do,” Asuna said as she finished up all ten fingers.

“Really? That’s all?”

“Yep. This is just the right amount of added charm, just enough for boys to notice.”

“Will this make darling happy?”

“I can’t see him hating it. Why not show him?”

“You’re right, I will! Thanks a bunch, Asuna! I’ll come by again!” Dyphon crowed as she left the room like a storm.

Asuna saw her off with a wave. “Good luck!”

Thus did a legendary dragon and a young human woman grow one step closer in this unassuming corner of the magic city.

Afterword

Light novels are written by humans to depict human lives.

Hello, everyone! It’s nice to meet you, or maybe it’s “long time no see” for some? I’m Nazuna Miki, a Taiwanese light novel author. I sincerely thank you for picking up a copy of I’m a Noble on the Brink of Ruin, So I Might as Well Try Mastering Magic Volume 7. We were able to publish this volume all thanks to your support.

The concept remains the same as ever, although Liam did have to work with certain themes and time restraints this time around. However, these prove to be no obstacle for him, and he ultimately triumphs over everything, so rest assured that it’s the same as always. This volume is being published in the same month as the manga, so please do give that a try as well.

Lastly, my words of thanks.

To Kabotya, the illustrator, thank you as always. The cover and illustrations are incredible!

To my editor and TO Books, thank you for publishing this seventh volume! Thank you, thank you!

And to the readers who gave this volume a try, I offer you my sincerest gratitude. I now set my pen down while praying that this volume will sell well so I can bring you the next one too.

Sincerely,

Nazuna, June 2023