Ch.310310. Land of Rest

“What?”

Hero.

That would be quite an unfamiliar word for Becklin, a Black Mage. That’s why he could only stare at me with a dumbfounded expression without any other reaction.

“What exactly are you saying?”

Explaining in detail would be difficult for him to understand. So I try to summarize it as simply as possible.

“You know that the Griffin Kingdom despises Black Mages.”

“Yes, yes. Things have gotten somewhat better thanks to you, Spiritmaster.”

Is this what prison life has done to him? The Becklin I knew was a confident man, but now he seems quite submissive.

“But that’s not enough. We need more Black Mages besides me to improve public perception, and I think you can do that.”

“M-me, you say?”

He’s already gained the favor of Serizard, the disciple of the Grand Mage and vice-head of the magic tower.

Whether it’s because of his human side or romantic interest, I’m not sure.

But it must be because his research and magic are considered helpful.

When I nod in response to his question, Becklin doesn’t hide his suspicious expression and openly displays it.

“For what reason?”

He was contemplating.

Wondering if I had some other motive behind my superficial explanation.

It was understandable.

After all, Black Mages were typically a suspicious bunch.

But what I’m doing now isn’t for the sake of Black Mages.

It’s for the Griffin Kingdom.

“I don’t need to explain my reasons.”

I’m not asking for his agreement anyway.

This was about making him decide whether to do it or not, with the implicit threat that there would be no future if he refused.

“Then what do I need to do?”

Knowing this, he continued with his next question despite my curt answer.

“Nothing special. Just keep acting as you are now.”

“…Pardon?”

To him, who looked unsure if he had heard correctly, I add:

“Later, I’ll have someone bring you a flower. It’s a very potent substance that was used as a drug ingredient in the Republic of Clark.”

Becklin’s eyebrows curved as he frowned. He was a man with more expressive facial changes than I expected.

“Are you talking about the golden flower? That insane drug from Flower Garden that destroys humans, made in utmost secrecy?”

“Yes.”

“I wonder how you obtained that. It’s so addictive that it was used for torture. They would force people to inhale it, then extract information using the drug as leverage.”

I didn’t know that much.

Forcing people to inhale drugs… I’ve thought many times that it was fortunate the Republic of Clark fell, and now I think it again.

“Even a drug can be interpreted differently depending on how it’s used. Use it to prove that you can help Griffin in some way.”

“Interpreted… differently.”

He stood there staring at me blankly, as if in shock.

He swallowed hard before asking me:

“So that’s why you’re using me.”

“…”

“As a plague mage, I can use magic in ways other than just unleashing plagues on people.”

“Isn’t that how you’re utilizing it now?”

“This is the first time someone has easily acknowledged that.”

For the first time, I felt life return to Becklin’s sharp gaze.

He seemed lost in thought as he looked at the flask, beaker, and staff on his desk, then took a deep breath.

“I understand. I’ll be ready for you to use me.”

“And one more thing.”

Whether he had some realization or opened his heart didn’t really matter to me.

He was just talent I happened to come across. Just that. Sorry, but what came next was more important.

“Do you know where Dante’s Black Mages are?”

* * *

“…”

[Black Mages live more modestly than I expected.]

A small cabin located on a mountain not far from Greyfond. As Stella said, it was quite humble and modest.

Seeing the small garden nearby, I wondered what this was all about.

I push the slightly open door with my staff. Despite the loud noise from the old door as I sneaked in…

The man inside the cabin was already fully prepared, as if he knew I was coming.

“I heard you returned. Are you here to clean up the remnants, Spiritmaster?”

A sturdy build.

Short hair and a neat beard. A man who looked more like a soldier than a Black Mage.

The vice-captain of Dante and Luaness’s close friend.

It was Pellestan the Blood Mage.

“That staff…”

Pellestan looked at Heralazard’s staff in my hand, twitched his eyebrows, and clenched his fist.

The glass bottles on the nearby desk were filled with blood—apparently he was planning to have a final battle here.

“Pellestan, I have something to ask you.”

But I didn’t come to fight him. I could kill him without any difficulty, but his life was of no use to me.

“Something to ask? Sorry, but I don’t talk with my friend’s enemy.”

“In the end, I succeeded. Much cleaner than Luaness’s plan, protecting all souls. If he had seen my success, he would have acknowledged it.”

“…”

Pellestan gritted his teeth, drawing blood from his lips. Even such small actions required caution when dealing with a Blood Mage like him.

“You’re not wrong. He would be happy to see your success. No, is he happy in the resting place you created? I’m not sure.”

“I have something to say about him.”

“I…”

Thud.

Pellestan took a big step forward. His eyes were stained with blood and hatred.

“I didn’t fight for some noble cause like the end of the world. I fought for my friend!”

Whoosh!

The blood in the glass bottles surged upward. Not just that. There must have been pools of blood outside too, as blood masses poured in through the windows.

The cabin, quickly becoming submerged in blood, was probably the most optimal place Pellestan could prepare, but…

Crash!

Pellestan’s body, crushed by the vast amount of mana, fell to his knees. At the same time, the blood that had been swirling with will poured onto the floor and escaped through the cracks of the cabin.

“H-how…!”

“Even without handling souls, I can now subdue someone like you.”

He was a man even Findenai had struggled against. Yet I subdued him at once without even using souls.

Yes.

I was growing stronger now.

At an absurd rate.

The important thing was…

I didn’t know why.

Since accepting souls into my body and becoming a resting place myself,

I had been growing stronger at an alarming rate, to the point where I could barely contain my power.

Contrary to my weakening body,

the mana flowing through me had become a vast sea, crashing against my body like waves.

“Listen to me, Pellestan.”

“Ugh, argh!”

Though he was still crushed under the mana and could only groan, I continued speaking.

“Luaness Luden Griffin is not inside me. He disappeared somewhere, and…”

I extend the staff I’m holding.

“I believe he is inside this.”

“Luaness is…!”

“The important thing is that my master has also been bound to the staff.”

[Master!]

The Dark Spiritmaster, who had been silent, straightens up with joy. But that’s not the important part.

“I intend to extract Luaness from here and take him to the resting place.”

“…”

“I don’t know what effect he might have on my master during this process. In fact, I’m already seeing some signs.”

I believed that the Dark Spiritmaster’s inability to control himself was due to Luaness hiding inside the staff.

“I want to take him away as peacefully as possible. So cooperate.”

* * *

After handing the staff to Pellestan, I stood outside the cabin for a while.

With the Dark Spiritmaster also with Pellestan, I didn’t worry about him escaping.

I was confident that no matter how far he went, I could catch him.

I was certain I wouldn’t lose track of him.

‘How amusing.’

I used to have a weakness in pursuing fleeing enemies, but now even that aspect has been completely remedied.

But I still wondered why I had become so strong.

This led to more questions.

“Stella.”

[Yes?]

Stella, who was standing beside me looking at the surroundings, tilted her head.

I voiced a question I had been wondering about for a while.

“Why hasn’t the continent collapsed yet?”

[…That’s a question many 14 to 16-year-olds used to ask.]

So around middle school age.

It seems adolescence is the same everywhere.

But because I had talked to Pellestan about the success of the resting place, I couldn’t stop the train of thought I’d been having.

“Think about it.”

[Yes?]

“I embraced the sleeping souls to save the continent that was in a saturated state, and became the resting place where they sleep.”

[That’s right.]

“Do you think souls have weight?”

[…No, they don’t.]

Just look at Stella and the Dark Spiritmaster.

Souls have no weight, and neither does mana.

“Soul saturation. It’s actually quite a vague definition. What does it mean for sleeping souls to be saturated when they have no weight or volume? By what standard does the continent determine that number?”

[…]

Stella falls silent.

Her expression darkens as if sensing something ominously strange.

“When I sent the continent’s souls to the resting place, the key element wasn’t the magic stone but the door of the general store.”

[To keep souls off the continent.]

“Yes, that’s right. So I didn’t worry about it. After all, I was planning to take the souls I gathered to a completely different dimension.”

Then it doesn’t matter.

Whatever the standard for the continent’s saturation, whatever concept is used to count souls.

The souls were planned to disappear from the continent anyway.

But.

There was a complication.

“I contain hundreds of millions of souls.”

[…]

“And I, who have become the resting place, am now standing on the continent.”

Slowly, Stella turns to look at me. She finally realized what I was saying.

“Then doesn’t that mean the souls are still on the continent?”

[That means…]

“Is the continent safe from soul saturation…”

So…

“…safe from me?”

My tightly closed lips didn’t open any further. I just stood with my hands deep in my coat pockets, lost in thought.

Nothing had been answered yet. It might be needless worry.

But.

The concern continued to deepen.