Chapter 31 – Life and Magic (3)

Life and Magic (3)

The basement was spacious.

It seemed as though a parking garage had been converted, easily exceeding 7,116.64 square feet in size. Of course, it wasn’t a parking garage that had been converted, but rather some strange ancient tomb.

The Tower of Magic was built atop the Great Tomb of the Country of Magic.
She became the owner of the Tower of Magic solely for the feat of vanquishing the Demon King. The rumor that had spread was that the Tower of Magic was created by converting the tomb due to a lack of space for new construction.

Personally, I wouldn’t take a building erected on a tomb even if it were given to me for free. How could one live with such unease?
But it seemed Aeon’s way of thinking was different. To think she’d bury herself in research in the basement filled with corpses.

No matter how much I walked, corridor after corridor kept appearing. The navy blue light softly diffused, robbing me of my senses to the point where I couldn’t notice the changes happening outside.

Honestly, it was astonishing.

Could such a structure be built in less than a month after the Demon King’s death?
Not an easy construction on the exterior, but to create such an interior in such a short period of time. And the space continued to extend.

Unless a dragon were employed to manipulate time and space, how could construction progress so quickly?

I walked down the corridor. Walking, walking, and walking some more. But the path did not end. This meant one thing.

Aeon was refusing to meet with me.

I had a strong suspicion, but no proof. So, I pricked my finger with a dagger.
And I continued to walk, occasionally letting the blood from my fingertip drip.

After a few more steps, I checked the floor. The blood had formed a circular pattern on the ground.
It meant I was walking in circles.

Considering everything, including the warnings from my Mind’s Eye in the basement of the Tower of Magic, this space was ‘made visible’ to me.
An endlessly unfolding corridor, a dark backdrop.
The atmosphere of the underground laboratory I had imagined, hoping I would continue to wander.

“Hey, I know what’s going on, so break the spell.”

Illusion magic, New Moon.
The name of the magic used on me. Magic that obscures the moon. It’s one of the magics commonly referred to as illusion or phantasmal magic, a technique I’ve seen a few times.

“So, you invite me in, but you don’t actually want to face me?”

If I hadn’t noticed, I would have kept walking until I collapsed.
After all the trouble of inviting me in, what could she possibly be thinking?

As my voice began to fade, the dark room eventually brightened.

A tingling sensation was felt on my finger. I brought the bleeding finger to my mouth. The bleeding stopped quickly.

Thud, the sound of the earth vibrating could be heard. It was just a sound. The floor wasn’t moving, so it seemed that the spell that had been cast was being lifted.

Then, slowly from the floor, the moon began to rise.
It was a crescent moon.
It crawled across the floor in the shape of a curved blade.

Eventually, it stuck to the wall. The crescent became a new moon.
The crescent moon aimed for the ceiling.

Soon the crescent moon turned into a full moon, standing tall as it looked down at me.
For a moment, the flickering full moon above my head disappeared into nothingness, scattering light into fragments as it dissipated.

Then, the entire landscape I was looking at vanished rapidly as if being sucked into a single point.
The dark corridor turned stark white.
It felt like an illusion. Perhaps this is what being on drugs feels like. I’ve never tried it, but it seems right.

A door appeared before me. It was a shape I recognized.
The only change was that it had moved from above ground to below.

I grasped the doorknob. It wasn’t locked. The door opened as I turned it to the right.

Ah, but couldn’t I have just used Mind’s Eye and be done with it?
My mind was a bit hazy, so it didn’t occur to me. I used to think quickly. Is it because I’m getting old?

With a thud, the door opened, and a woman with pitiful navy blue hair greeted me.
A maroon robe with its sleeves torn off, an eyepatch covering one eye, and a voluptuous figure that left nowhere else to look. She hadn’t changed a bit since the hero died. That thought crossed my mind the moment I saw her face.

The woman I met after nearly two weeks had become disheveled.
Aliana was the opposite of Aeon. Comparing her the two was like comparing a burnt corpse to an ordinary person.

Her gaunt complexion suggested she hadn’t eaten in days. Surrounded by papers, books, potions, and more strewn about, she looked even more exhausted.

Her unfocused right eye was empty yet tinged with madness. This was one aspect that was definitely different from before.
Other than that, she was similar to usual, or rather, resembled how she was when we first met.

I picked up a glass jar containing frog organs. I wondered what it was used for.

“Seeing how disorganized and messy this is, I guess that great research of yours still isn’t finished?”

Aeon didn’t even glance at me, just kept examining papers and scribbling something.

I didn’t say anything more. I just crossed my arms and watched her back.
She spoke to me, her skeletal figure addressing me. She told me to use formal language.

Even that damned genius seems to be bothered by the gaze of others.

“Flan, you’re not using formal language?”

“I’m not a porter anymore. I’m just a delivery person you can find anywhere. If you want to argue, too bad. We’re equals now… let’s just talk comfortably.”

During the days of the hero’s party, I used formal language with all party members except Troka. Was it some kind of atonement, back then when I lived without pride?

“Hmm, is that so?”
Aeon spoke with an indifferent tone, as if letting the words slip out.

“So, how far did you get with that great research of yours? Since Troka died, it must be a failure, right?”

She ignored me, continuing to write and erase on her papers.
I didn’t have time to wait for Aeon to start talking. I grabbed her shoulder and turned her to face me.

Her face was looking at me, but her eyes were still fixed on some strange formula. After scribbling a few more characters with her pen, she finally turned her gaze to me.

“I’ve put that research on hold for now. There’s something more urgent at hand. Of course, I plan to complete it soon enough.”

Her eyes moved from side to side as if she was thinking about something.

“So, may I ask you a question?”

I nodded, ready to give a casual response.
Aeon reached up for a new piece of paper, preparing to write down my answer.
A question, huh? Probably why I came looking for her, I thought carelessly.

“Various pieces of information about Troka? For instance, reasons why Troka had to abandon us and flee because of others─”

The words that came out of her mouth made me want to rip off the nodding head. Despite knowing that Troka’s magic was created at the cost of his own life, she kept trying to extract it, yet she asks about what? Other people?

“Shut your trap if you don’t want to die.”

So the actions she took were for some greater good and didn’t matter to her?

My grip on her shoulder grew stronger. Crunch, I applied pressure as if to crush her shoulder. There are questions that are okay to ask and those that are not. You really…
My eyes became bloodshot. For some reason, Mind’s Eye turned on by itself. I could feel my face contorting.

Aeon laughed at me. Puhaha. A mocking laugh devoid of emotion, a laugh created purely to ridicule me.

“Why are you getting angry? Do you think you can beat me? Even looking as pitiful as I do, I’m still among the top three when it comes to magic. Even the old you───”

“I told you to shut up.”

Everyone has a line that shouldn’t be crossed. And Aeon was the type who didn’t care about such things. I was the kind of person who would explode immediately if provoked.

The air grew cold. It wouldn’t have been strange for either of us to attack first, but my rage didn’t last long.

There was nothing to gain by blowing up here, and whatever line there might have been had long since disappeared.
Yeah, it’s already gone.

Questions, well, I suppose they can be asked. Yeah, let’s do that.

Even if I won the fight, there would be nothing left for me. If even my shallow last beliefs disappeared, I felt like my heart wouldn’t be able to take it.
That method was to be used only as a last resort. I had decided to save it for the final moment.

The strength drained from my grip, a sensation of utter exhaustion.
It seemed my legs were also at their limit. After struggling to steady my trembling legs, they refused to support me any longer, and I eventually collapsed to the floor. She looked down at me with an expression that seemed to find the situation amusing.

“Haah…”

“So, Flan, why did you come here?”

Aeon’s voice reached me as I sat there, powerless. I had forgotten again.

That’s right.
I came to open a letter.

“The delivery of the will. And the reclamation of the goddess’s power. What am I doing, forgetting my purpose…”

I let out a wry laugh unintentionally. No matter how far gone I was, I shouldn’t have forgotten my fundamental purpose. It seems my mind really has reached its limit.

Of course, that doesn’t mean I can give up.

“A will? If you’re talking about the papers you hastily gathered, that doesn’t matter.”

It was when I was about to take out the paper from my pocket.

“Why would we need Troka’s will if he’s still alive?”

What?

A sensation as if every hair on my body was standing on end. Fear, terror, awe, disgust, and various other emotions swept over me in an instant.

“You seem to not believe it. Troka is alive, and I can prove it.”

A fitting insult. It’s one thing to be slightly provoked or to face a direct attack that strikes a nerve, but when confronted with an insult so fundamentally incomprehensible, it’s as if no thoughts come to mind at all. That’s how I felt at that moment.

My emotions had already settled into a deep calm. You only react to nonsense that makes some level of sense, not to utter bullshit that exceeds all thresholds. It wasn’t just a matter of being calm; I was completely out of commission, unable to do anything.

Aeon grabbed my forearm and pulled me somewhere.

He’s alive? Does she really think that makes any sense?
If Troka is alive, then all the secrets tied to the letter… would be nothing but bullshit. Then what about me?

“I’ll show you. Why Troka is still alive, the reason for it.”

No, whatever it is, I’ll be able to face the truth.
I don’t know what form that truth will take, but I had a feeling that was the case.

“I’ve been searching all along, and you will surely understand.”