Chapter 18: If you come, you have to go
by fnovelpia
“If she calls, I have to go.”
What… just happened?
Murray couldn’t even look away from Chloe’s eyes, which were fixed on him with unshakable clarity.
He fumbled dumbly with his hands, his mind blank.
His invisibility—dispelled.
His staff—reduced to ashes.
A situation enough to short-circuit the average person’s brain.
But Murray prided himself on having a brain built for inquiry, not panic.
Even in the face of absurdity, it shifted into problem-solving mode.
Q: Where’s my staff?
A: Went whoosh!
Well, there you have it.
My staff…? It went whoosh?
Sure. It happens. Life is unpredictable like that.
Even a wizard’s staff, at its core, is just a carved stick.
And surprise, surprise—wood burns.
So yes, it was entirely possible that the staff he bought for thirty Yurk gold coins had just gone up in flames like a campfire twig.
A sudden parting, but that was okay. Partings only made reunions more beautiful.
Murray’s beloved partner would be waiting for him somewhere out there—on Staff Planet, maybe—until the day they met again.
“Geh-heh-heh… Your name from now on is Sylvia!”
“Come on, Sylvia! Let’s take a bath together!”
No, really. He wasn’t upset. Not even a little.
A sudden breeze swept through the alley, carrying Sylvia’s remaining ashes into the sky.
The sunlight kissed Murray’s hand, the same one that had held her—not a trace of sadness in it.
Wait a sec.
What?
He snapped out of it and quickly brushed the ash off his palm.
His hand was unscathed.
Not even a blister.
Not even warm.
That flame was hot enough to incinerate a staff in the blink of an eye.
So how is my hand perfectly fine?
Was that even possible?
Murray’s intuition gave a solemn nod.
Yes.
It could be—if someone had cast a spell so precise, so unbelievably refined, that it targeted nothing but the staff.
Unmatched magical control.
Casting speed that outstripped even Murray, a mage of the Dawn Class.
From that alone, he could infer the caliber of the one responsible.
His instincts screamed like sirens.
Murray slowly replayed the moment of the spell in his head—
—and shuddered.
I didn’t even see it.
He hadn’t sensed the casting at all. Not a flicker of it.
The spell had the uncanny precision of some ancient relic’s automated defense system.
Yes! That’s it—an artifact!
Murray clung to logic like a lifeline.
Right.
If it was an artifact, it made sense.
Who knows?
Maybe it was some legendary item…
Like the groomrok of Nexor.
Maybe someone was carrying a copy of it, and the book had activated its own defense to protect itself.
Mhm.
That’s a perfectly rational conclusion.
And with that, everything fell neatly into place.
Murray gave a slow nod.
Of course, that’s assuming one overlooked a tiny detail—
Artifacts and groomrok”s are completely useless if you don’t understand how they work.
To make use of one, you’d need to:
Unearth a relic lost for centuries,
Unravel its hidden nature,
And master its inner workings to the point of activating its functions.
“….”
Could an eight-year-old girl do all that?
No—more importantly, even if she could, could she hide it?
The entire theory was straining at the seams.
There were limits to cognitive dissonance.
And yet…
Even without a single solid clue, Murray had already realized it.
“Do you need something from me?”
“—HURK!!”
The realization struck like a hammer.
This being standing before him—there was no way it was human.
And now, he knew.
He knew exactly what kind of force he’d just meddled with.
Is he… senile?
From the shadows of the dim alley, Murray emerged.
Chloe’s eyes flicked over him and reached a swift, confident conclusion.
The man reached toward her, startled mid-motion, mouth slightly agape… then abruptly straightened his expression.
Now he was staring at her with bulging eyes, sweating like a leaky pipe.
Clear signs of a sleepwalker.
Or dementia.
Given his age, the latter seemed far more likely.
Be careful! He looks dangerous!
Yeah, no kidding.
Chloe wasn’t about to let a dementia patient loiter near an elementary schooler—not that she actually was one.
Cruel as it sounded, reality didn’t have much room for kindness in cases like this.
What if we light his head or butt on fire to scare him off? 😊
Okay, and now Skynet’s finally showing its true colors.
Chloe shivered despite knowing it was nonsense.
Thank goodness she was the only one dealing with this insane AI.
At least it asks for permission before acting on its lunatic ideas…
I guess that’s something?
She let out a long sigh.
Was that supposed to count as a conscience?
Either way, respecting your elders was the Way of the Martial Sect—even in modern times.
Chloe stepped aside politely, motioning with her hand.
“Alright, go ahead.
You can pass.”
“Uh…uhh…”
“I’m stepping out of the way. You’re free to go.”
…Huh?
That reaction was off. Was that not it?
Chloe tilted her head, thinking it over.
Then said bluntly:
“Or… did you come because you know who I am?”
Wait—does he know I’m Cynthia?
Did he track me down just to ask why my commissions are closed?
How’d he even figure it out?
“M-my identity…?!”
Whoa, hey! Why the sudden yelling?
Right. Dementia. Makes sense.
Bad complexion, poor hearing, unnecessarily loud voice…
He ticked every stereotype in the book.
“No, it’s nothing. If you don’t know, then forget it.”
A young man from a rural town, where youth emigration was a serious issue.
She was well-accustomed to dealing with elderly folk.
Instead of speaking further, Chloe simply flashed a smile.
“Should I call someone for you? Or, if you’d prefer, I could escort you home.”
Dementia patients—she’d heard they sometimes wore something for cases like this.
What was it?
A missing persons sticker?
But does Luntarval even have those?
Chloe gave Murray a look, as if asking his thoughts.
Her eyes were cold.
Not a hint of emotion behind them.
Murray froze for a split second.
His heart skipped a beat.
His hand—once pristine—was now slick with sweat.
She’s just going to let me go? After everything? After I attacked her?
Her words were those of a madwoman, completely unfathomable to any sane person.
Unless, of course…
She wasn’t human.
If she’s not human…?
Forgiveness. Empathy.
Mercy.
Reconciliation.
The virtues that define humanity, the traits admired by society.
What if these were mere surface-level imitations, parroted by some creature that only pretended to understand them?
That thought slid into place like a lock falling into its bolt.
Why didn’t I suspect it?
Her unearthly beauty.
Those eyes, dazzling as though crafted by the hand of a demon.
Why didn’t I notice?
The twisted paintings that hung around her.
Her being—a product of madness, incapable of truly understanding the warmth of life.
I should have realized it earlier.
I should have fled the moment I failed to sense the magic that burned my staff.
Murray’s mind raced, but rationality took over.
His spirit, once determined, now faltered.
He had tried to ambush her with all his might.
But to her, it had been nothing more than a trivial game.
“Excuse me?”
The question was asked again, and Murray could not ignore it.
It was no longer a mere inquiry—it was an ultimatum.
And so—
“Well, isn’t this just too kind!”
Flash!
A grin spread across his face, wide and unsettling, as though the notion of facial expressions were some absurd pseudo-science.
In that moment, the aging, devious ex-magician became the friendliest old man on the planet.
“Thank you so much! May you be blessed!”
Murray dodged Chloe’s gaze, backing himself into the wall.
He made a swift escape, darting out of the alley as if his life depended on it.
That thing… was a demon.
An ancient devil capable of deceiving an entire city.
You want me to fight something like that?
Why should I?
The pulse of life, the instinct to survive, had never been so vivid.
Anyone who witnessed Murray’s escape would surely believe the old saying, “When you get old, you must die.” The elderly are often seen as frail, but Murray’s escape refuted that idea entirely.
“Wow, you’re still pretty spry, huh?”
Chloe placed her hands on her hips, a satisfied smile playing across her face.
So, maybe he’s not senile after all.
I guess I was mistaken…
🔓 You have successfully defeated a foe of equal or greater strength.
✨ Growth rewards have been earned.
[Obtained: Soul Expansion (now unified as ‘Experience Points’)]
[Obtained: Skill – Spirit Magic Proficiency]
[Obtained: Skill – Bard Magic] (New!)
⭐ Your Wizard Level increases by 2.
⭐ Your Spirit Magic Rank increases by 1.
The status screen in front of Chloe’s eyes was once again being ignored.
Helping a senile old man gives you a level-up?
What a great game.
But wait—this isn’t a wizard’s level-up, it’s more like a rogue’s.
And, goddamn it, I still can’t use Spirit Magic.
“…Ahem.”
Chloe continued to glance at the ever-present, nagging “ding” of her status screen, half-expecting something to change. But as usual, no fire or water magic was forthcoming.
“Did you fall for it again? Getting frustrated?”
When would I finally stop trusting this damn thing?
Chloe gritted her teeth.
[If you understand the Neksor groomrok , you can use magic!]
Didn’t I just admit I can’t use it yet?
The thing is, there’s another reason Chloe didn’t put much faith in the status screen.
If the groomrok could teach Spirit Magic, the protagonist would’ve been using it from the start.
Even Chloe, as forgetful as she was, wouldn’t have missed that detail.
The Neksor groomrok is a relic that imprints the structure of magic it analyzes onto its pages.
It can contain Spirit Magic, but learning it from the book is a whole different matter.
Chloe understood this, so she wasn’t bothering with the screen.
[Well, I wasn’t around for the protagonist in the original story! 😆]
Really? Damn, that’s unfair!
Chloe rubbed her eyelids in exasperation.
If only the groomrok ‘s replica had worked, it would’ve been ten times more useful than this damn screen.
The groomrok served as a secondary tool to help master magical energy.
It was the external talent that turned an otherwise ordinary protagonist into a genius.
A true embodiment of wisdom, distilled into the essence of dragons!
A fish she had missed, but one that now seemed even more important.
However…
Though Chloe wasn’t fully aware, she did know that the Neksor groomrok was well-suited to her.
Just as books and AIs are repositories of data, the essence of life is contained in the genes.
In terms of being a medium for information, all three were essentially the same.
The full potential of the groomrok ’s copy had already been absorbed by Chloe.
She had unlocked its true power, long before she even realized it.
The ability to feel, understand, and manifest magical power—an essential talent for warriors and mages alike.
No, it’s more than just a talent.
It’s a potential that could even be considered a divine power.
It’s the process of updating one’s knowledge and altering one’s mind.
In essence, it’s not much different from reading a book.
Some individuals who update their understanding of certain texts, like religious scriptures, end up defying the very essence of life itself.
A simple amount of data, no more than 1MB, can change a person completely.
In Chloe’s case, she’s undergone quite the transformation.
Her physical constitution has changed—she could break a brick with her head now.
As a result, her remaining mercenaries were left utterly stunned.
“…Did that old man just run off by himself?”
What the hell? He really took off like that?
I should have gone too!
“Hmm, you’re still here?”
Chloe was startled by Balt’s voice.
It was about 10% of the shock he had, judging by the fact that their eyes had met.
Damn it! The client—this damn fraud!
This isn’t some weak little brat without any ability!
If a mage loses their staff in a duel, it’s the same as a warrior having their sword broken.
No argument. It’s a clear victory.
To the mercenaries, Chloe appeared stronger than Murray.
And that wasn’t even wrong when it came to raw talent.
It meant that Balt and his group, who couldn’t even defeat Murray, weren’t exactly in a position to challenge Chloe.
“Did you call for me?”
“Hehehe…”
The mercenaries appeared cautiously, one by one, stepping forward.
Seeing their expressions, Chloe was internally caught off guard.
What are these mercenaries doing here? And what’s with the smell of burning?
Was someone smoking? Or had they burned some kind of fragrant wood?
Chloe’s nose twitched as she followed the scent, and the mercenaries’ hearts skipped a beat.
That’s it!
She’s sniffing the air! She’s sniffing!
Despite their rough appearance, these were seasoned mercenaries.
They might not be the sharpest, but their bodies remember the battlefield.
Chloe as a demon? She didn’t need to entertain such a thought.
The mercenaries immediately understood what Chloe’s actions meant:
“Is she looking for something else to burn?”
“Wow! Three more logs on the house!”
It was a typical scene.
Fire mages from the Fire Tower would often behave like this.
They preferred the scent of burning flesh to that of freshly baked bread.
But—
Even they never used that crazy magic so casually!
Wait…
What did she just do?
The staff in her hand wasn’t even radiating heat, yet she’d managed to burn something—with pinpoint precision?
What the hell is this?
If such magic existed, who in their right mind would ever choose to be a mercenary?
And it wasn’t just the staff she could target.
There were many things in the world that burned more easily than a wooden stick.
For example, mercenaries soaked in alcohol.
If they were in their right minds, they’d follow Murray’s example and run. But—
“B-Balt! Let’s run away!”
“Stop talking nonsense! Mercenaries don’t run away!”
Balt grabbed his comrade who was trying to flee without permission.
The three main rules of a shonen manga:Friendship, effort, victory.
The most important one is probably sales.
You can lose your friendship, be denied your effort, and even accept defeat.
But sales justify everything.
And for mercenaries, the one thing they’re responsible for is their credit.
A mercenary has nothing they can’t abandon. Except for their credit.
That’s right.
Credit is almost like life itself.
A mercenary never abandons their client.
If they sell out their employer, it’s over for them as a mercenary.
Thus, Balt boldly declared:
“Our client is the guildmaster of the painters’ association!”
We’re quitting mercenary work! Just let us live!
“What?”
You sell out your client, and it’s over for you?
Ah! I get it now! Then I’ll just retire!
“This is all because of that guy’s request! We were just following orders to escort the teacher!”
“Oh, really?”
Well, if that’s the case, then we can go.
Chloe climbed into the carriage with skillful ease, having ridden a few times on the way here.
“?”
Why is she getting in?
Balt blinked in confusion, and Chloe blinked back.
“What are you doing? Are we not going?”
The higher-ups called for us, right?
We should be going.
“Uh? Uh, yeah… we should go.”
“Right, we should go. Going is the right thing to do.”
“Eh?”
Why are they acting like this?
Chloe tilted her head as she sat in the carriage. The mercenaries tilted their heads as well.
“Is this right? Balt, is this really the right thing to do?”
“I don’t know, damn it! If you’re so upset, why don’t you ask that person if we can not go!”
“…Alright! Let’s go, fast, fast!”
Hee-haw!
And so, the carriage raced down the alley once again, with the most clueless-looking abductor and victim aboard.
Chloe A. Turing, age 8, fully cooperating with the abduction of an unregistered child.
This is why children’s safety education is so important.
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