Ch.101Messenger from the Past (1)

Ortes is an anomaly.

Not in the sense of being an anomaly as a member of the magical society. He possessed no magical power, which barred him from even being initiated into the privilege of magic.

Such “magic-incapable individuals” did exist, albeit rarely, at the bottom of society.

While cases like Ortes with absolutely zero magical power might not exist, those with extremely low talent for magic, with sensitivity or control insufficient even for basic spells, appeared occasionally.

The occupation these social dropouts threw themselves into was that of a solver. The cheapest resources deployed for the most dangerous tasks.

Yet Ortes was an anomaly even among solvers.

This was because most of the places where he appeared and operated were extra-dimensional borderlands.

Meaning there were no records of his activities before the extra-dimensional borderlands.

Solvers who worked in such dangerous territories were typically those who staked their lives on fighting, those who mortgaged their lives for money, or both.

While there were more than a few solvers who, after enduring various hardships, chose to wash away their identities and live anonymously in the extra-dimensional borderlands, there was no one quite like Ortes.

A truly unknown human being who seemed to have no “past” no matter what means were employed to find one.

That was Ortes’s anomaly.

Many rumors circulated. A magician from ancient times who had drifted in an extra-dimension and only now returned, an artificial human, a plaything created by some magician for amusement.

But no rumor ever touched upon Ortes’s truth, and he disappeared after rumors that he had accepted some secret request.

Thus, “Faceless Ortes” was destined to fade away as a common urban legend, a mere drinking tale among solvers—something that once existed.

Today was no different. A day when chromatic rain fell from five-colored clouds tinted with magical power, shimmering in various hues.

Drinking a glass of alcohol with the discordant sound of raindrops pounding the seashore as accompaniment, reminiscing about past wounds with the thought, “It’s about time I forgot.”

Someday all memories of the past would be forgotten, fading away in bleached recollections. They could be forgotten as easily as the alcohol going down his throat now.

…Or so he believed.

“Hey, Knemon. So you were here.”

***

Knemon was startled. He had severed all connections and was living quietly in his hometown. But suddenly, why?

“Ah, the messenger of Faceless Ortes!!”

Lampades’s face crumpled, as if displeased by that title.

But what could he do? It was the truth. Though he had his own reasons for following Ortes, he was not one of Ortes’s followers.

Lampades was known for following Ortes wherever he went. He even handled mediation and negotiations with other solvers on Ortes’s behalf.

On the surface, it appeared as if a good-natured solver was looking after the aloof Ortes. But Knemon himself wasn’t fooled.

Lampades was undoubtedly Ortes’s top subordinate. What else could explain the record that only those two survived when Ortes and Lampades were deployed together on a ruin investigation request?

Naturally, Knemon’s assumption was far from the truth. Ortes simply thought it better to pay Lampades to handle coordination since people turned pale whenever they saw his face.

However, such intimate details were unknown in the solver industry, and Lampades himself had no desire to reveal them.

“I don’t understand why you call me that way. Ortes’s friend, Knemon.”

“F-friend? What are you…!”

Knemon, who was about to burst out, quickly deflated. Well, when he thought he and Ortes were “clicking,” he did consider Ortes a friend.

He fled after witnessing the unfathomable madness hidden beneath those narrowed eyes, but before that, he truly thought Ortes was an unparalleled comrade who would share in his ideals…

Laughing hollowly, Knemon sat down and said:

“Fine. Lampades. Ortes? Is your master looking for me?”

“I’ve already warned you once to mind your words. Do you still enjoy playing with fire?”

Lampades snapped his fingers. His hair and body hair stood on end as sparking sounds gradually resonated through the air. The components of his antenna ears—elven ears cut off and replaced with antennas—deployed, regulating the current flowing through Lampades’s body.

Knemon read Lampades’s intentions from the intensity of the magical power he emitted. It was a threat, not combat readiness.

If Lampades had truly come here to fight, he wouldn’t be snapping his fingers to draw up magical power; he would have immediately completed and fired a spell. Solvers who survived the extra-dimensional frontlines typically possessed at least that much agility.

Knemon raised both hands. He had no intention to fight.

“Even if Ortes isn’t your master, I guess he’s the one who sent you to me. What brings you here?”

Though he asked, Knemon already had a suspicion. The decisive incident that led to his separation from Ortes. It must be because of the artifact they excavated then.

“He says there’s something he wants to receive from you.”

“Ah…”

Knemon sighed. Had Ortes truly come to reclaim that thing?

“He said he’s prepared sufficient compensation.”

“There can be no sufficient compensation for that object.”

“I don’t know what it is, and I don’t care. I just need to bring you to Ortes, that’s all.”

Phew. Exhaling deeply, Knemon spoke with difficulty.

“Do you even know what artifact Ortes wants to reclaim?”

“I don’t want to know what it is. All I know is that I need to bring you before Ortes.”

A firm resolve was evident. A determination reminiscent of Ortes during his solver days. It seemed unlikely that his resolve to deliver the artifact to Ortes would fade, no matter how Knemon resisted.

Yet simultaneously, Lampades exhibited the hesitation characteristic of those forced to obey orders. The fact that he wasn’t following Ortes voluntarily was quite unexpected to Knemon, who remembered the Lampades of the past.

‘If I tell him the truth, he might waver.’

If death was inevitable either way, wouldn’t it be better to at least say everything before dying?

Knemon gestured to Lampades.

“Let’s go inside and talk.”

With his hands raised, Knemon didn’t appear to be looking for an opportunity to activate hidden magic circles or enchant-wear. His demeanor was completely different from the aura he exuded during his solver days.

Lampades entered Knemon’s house, remaining vigilant.

“Do you know why I parted ways with Ortes?”

“No.”

After Lampades entered, Knemon closed all the doors in the house and began operating the electrical panel. After complex button manipulations and pulling a lever, a thudding sound was heard from the living room.

It was the sound of a secret door opening beneath the living room carpet.

“…You live quite complicatedly. Is there a need to prepare a secret vault in this manner rather than using magic?”

“The faceless one can see everything.”

Lampades didn’t bother asking what could be seen. He vaguely sensed that Ortes’s faintly glowing eyes could detect magical power.

‘But to go this far, preparing purely non-magical security measures?’

In the midst of his doubts, they descended to the center of the basement. There lay the artifact that Knemon had guarded with his life for the past several years.

“…?”

But the artifact didn’t appear to have the value that would make Ortes covet it and Knemon so anxious.

“Am I seeing this right?”

“Yes. That is.”

A translucent container with some liquid inside, and a lid with a ring attached to it.

“It’s a bubble wand.”

‘Is this guy insane?’ Lampades frowned.

Ignoring Lampades’s doubts, Knemon approached the bubble container very carefully. And with even greater caution, he twisted the lid to extract the bubble-making ring.

And with his utmost effort, he blew just a tiny breath.

What shocked Lampades, who was grumbling behind Knemon that “this guy must be crazy,” happened right after.

The moment the tiny bubble, no bigger than a fingernail, burst, the objects in front of it also disappeared.

A wind suddenly blew in the basement. It was the wind created as the remaining air moved to fill the void left by the deleted air.

Lampades saw that the stone wall in front of Knemon had a round indentation. It wasn’t so much physically eroded as it had simply disappeared in that exact shape.

“This… is a weapon of destruction that Ortes and I discovered in a ruin deeply infiltrated by extra-dimensional forces.”

“Is it an artifact that erases whatever form is reflected in the bubble?”

Knemon nodded gravely. He recalled what Ortes had said after discovering this formidable weapon of destruction.

When Knemon himself was rejoicing that he had finally obtained the power to bring down the magic towers, Ortes whispered in an eerily cold voice:

‘I have no interest in such things.’

Repulsed by the obsession and madness within, Knemon abandoned his doomsday beliefs.

Lampades unconsciously swallowed. What could Faceless Ortes do if he got his hands on something like this?

What on earth did he intend to do with these reality-erasing bubbles?

***

“So what will you do when this Knemon friend arrives?”

“First, I’ll give him a keyboard and ask him to list all the magic towers that have violated the sacred artifact prohibition. I’ll improvise on how to raid them.”

“It’ll take at least a month to meet Knemon, won’t you think of a good method or two by then?” Ortes joked.