Purunel Pencheff.
A formal necromancer of the Necromancer School.
A figure recognized for his decent talent, having risen to the position of deputy branch head of the school.
A promising mage favored by both his master and the branch head.
“Hahaha! Those truly were glorious times! To the extent that I used to come and go at the Tetradia Magic Tower itself! Ah, you probably don’t know how great the Tetradia Magic Tower is. Well, I suppose I can’t exactly show you, can I? Hmm?”
Regardless of Tetradia or whatever, the ringing that burrows into my head was so intense it gave me a headache.
It wasn’t a voice transmitted by sound, but the ghost’s unique will embedding itself in my mind, communicating in a way that I understood without hearing a word.
“How long has it been since we last spoke! You have no idea how grateful I am to you! How many years has it been? I’ve been a ghost for quite some time now, and though my memory has remained fairly intact, so many years have passed it feels like an eternity. Ah, did I ever tell you how I became a ghost? Where did I leave off?”
This ancient specter was unusually talkative after such a long silence.
“It’s exactly the fifth time. Your master was jealous of your talent and turned you into a Specter.”
“Huh? Have I already told you five times? Anyway, that master of mine—wasn’t he just despicable? Honestly, my magical knowledge was deeper than his. Because of that, I was often called to the tower more than my master. I bragged about it, and well… I got a proper betrayal for my trouble.”
Still, Purunel never gave up.
“Because I was a necromancer of my caliber, I was able to maintain my sanity and endure. If it had been someone else, they would have become a perfect Specter, exactly as my master planned, long ago. Well… after so many years, I too succumbed to the curse, but you saved me, didn’t you! It was fate! Fate that crossed hundreds of years!”
Hio’s plan hadn’t accounted for saving such a talkative ghost… and yet, he couldn’t just kill Purunel again. It was a troublesome situation all around.
“When your incredible flame touched me, I truly thought I was done for. Of course, almost no sanity remained, but instinctively I felt it. Ah, so this is what it’s like to disappear.”
“There’s no way to escape. But then, what do you know? Instead of touching my source at all, it burned away all the negative emotions that wrapped around me — anger, hatred, resentment, frustration — all of those feelings.”
“Thanks to that, I’m back to being somewhat normal! Hahahaha! You’re a noble person, a noble person!”
‘…Could you maybe cut down on the talking a bit?’
“That won’t do! Hahaha! Sorry about that! Hahaha!”
Purunel Pencheff, the excited ghost oblivious to others’ troubled hearts over failing to obtain the Artifact.
Well, since it’s come to this, it’s time to change my perspective.
The Artifact seems to be a lost cause, so I’ll have to try to get something else somehow.
“…Purunel Pencheff. Regardless, there’s no doubt I saved you, right?”
“Of course! You can’t imagine how long I’ve endured this pain, being oppressed all this time! I…”
“Enough. Then teach me magic.”
Purunel’s noisy chatter abruptly stopped.
His movements, which had been fluttering about in the void, ceased, and even his laughter faded as he looked at Hio.
Just now, I was holding back my curiosity, but… suddenly, Purunel flew right up to Hio’s eyes, shining with gleaming curiosity.
A mage, huh?
The bold attitude was gone, replaced by wide eyes filled with intense curiosity.
“A very small and humble mana… just a newly initiated mage? How fascinating, truly fascinating.”
Purunel’s large eyes moved quickly as he darted anxiously in front, behind, and to both sides of Hio.
The sudden change in demeanor made Hio curious too.
“What’s so fascinating?”
At those words, Purunel stopped moving again and fixed his eyes on Hio’s face, tilting his head.
“How is it possible that a mage still exists?”
His eyes grew even larger.
Only after they filled his entire face did his eyes stop growing.
The bizarre sight made Hio truly feel the ghost’s reality.
“Impossible. I say impossible. It looks like you’ve built mana in the proper way… hmm.”
“Could you explain what you mean…?”
“Ah! I get it!”
Purunel’s eyes, which had swollen to huge proportions, suddenly shrank back to normal.
Then, wearing a nonchalant expression, he smiled brightly again.
“You are not of this world, are you?”
Tok-tok-tok—
***
A finger slowly taps the armrest of a chair.
Everyone gathered in the cramped room fixes their gaze on that finger.
A narrow, confined room charged with a strange tension.
Three people wearing hoods.
Opposite them, a man whose face is fully revealed.
The tapping finger stops moving as the man’s mouth opens slowly.
“Do you realize how unreasonable this request is?”
In response to the calm question, one of the three hooded figures answered.
“They’re only asking for a location. The rest, they’ll handle themselves, so I don’t think it’s that unreasonable.”
Three faces hidden by hoods, one openly visible.
Yet, despite his revealed face, no one here knows the true identity of this author.
And for good reason.
“Isn’t that right, Jason Klarok?”
The man before them was none other than Jason Klarok, leader of the underworld that controls the Empire’s dark side.
“Hahahaha! No, no.”
Jason burst into laughter, shaking his head.
“You know one thing but not two, Professor. Or are you pretending not to know?”
It was because the professor from the Academy who sought him out, Sirbert von Ernhem, was so brazen.
“The person you’re looking for is my one and only friend. Do you know how valuable information about him is?”
“Of course, I know better than anyone.”
“Then you also know what a terrifying situation it would be if you handed over that information without permission and my precious friend got angry.”
“…I guarantee he won’t get angry. If I say it was my choice, he’ll understand immediately.”
At Sirbert’s reassurance, Jason’s gaze shifted to those beside him.
A tall, broad-shouldered man and a petite woman.
Silver hair glimpsed from beneath their hoods.
They were the Empire’s two princes, their eyes blazing as they searched.
Princess Sylvia Verden and her loyal knight.
Sirbert’s request was simple.
Just tell him the location of one person.
If he could get to that person, the princess would be safe.
For Jason, it was a piece of cake.
No escort needed—just location information, and the task was done.
Moreover, the fee Sirbert proposed was enormous.
“Hmm…”
But Jason had no choice but to fall into deep thought.
Because the person Sirbert wanted was an enigma even to Jason himself.
Jason called this person his friend, but he didn’t fully understand him.
Hio Pavlenko.
The essence of the Jijoncheonma, whom all Bingijas relentlessly pursue.
Among all Bingijas with strong martial prowess, he was overwhelmingly dominant.
That was the identity of Jason’s friend—and the person whose location Sirbert wanted.
“If we give him the location, do you really think he’ll help that person?”
Sirbert nodded immediately.
“I’m certain.”
“Do you think your friend has enough power to change the current situation?”
“If he wills it, there’s nothing he can’t do.”
“Hahahaha!”
Jason laughed heartily at that answer.
Sirbert felt a flicker of hope, but Jason shook his head without changing his smile.
“As expected, no. You see, my friend’s a bit scary.”
“…Is the fee insufficient?”
“You know, Professor, I can’t be sure my friend even wants this.”
Jason didn’t want to stir up trouble with something he couldn’t be certain about.
The crown prince and second prince’s struggle for the throne.
Conflicts between numerous nobles who support them.
‘What do they want?’
Secret information. And secret clean-ups.
‘So who do they seek?’
The answer was obvious.
The assassination guild and information guild that dominate the underworld.
For Jason, a flood of information and money would come rolling in even if he just stayed still.
Well, it sounded interesting, but if his friend didn’t like what he stirred up, Jason would be in a lot of trouble.
Since Jason knew his friend’s recent movements best, maybe he was the one who knew the most at this point.
The Sword Saint the Empire revered.
A figure all Bingijas feared and were wary of.
Only Jason knew they were the same person… so he had to be cautious.
“Let’s do it this way.”
But since Sirbert had invested a lot in this, he revealed his last card.
“I will give you all the information about Marquis Nordin.”
“…Huh?”
Jason asked in rare surprise.
“Isn’t the Marquis your biggest backer and lifeline? That means…!”
“I know the people the Marquis is in contact with. I even know the location of his secret ledger.”
“Hahaha! So that’s it, Professor! You never cared about how big and strong your lifeline was!”
Jason raised his voice as if a revelation dawned.
“You wanted to be the lifeline itself!”
Though Sirbert had achieved a significant rise in status over the past three years, there was a clear limit beyond this.
It would take a long time to get deeply involved in the political arena, and there was no guarantee it was even possible.
So Sirbert was thinking of starting a new game altogether.
Using the princess as a tremendous gamble.
“Alright! Since you’re showing that much sincerity, I’ll accept the request.”
Jason leaned forward and lowered his voice.
“The House of the Ghosts of Dubero Village.”
The deal was made.
“There’s a monster lurking there.”
***
Purunel’s gaze drifts to a distant past.
When was it? A time so long ago it can’t even be guessed.
An era when humans worshipped gods, and gods bestowed blessings without reserve.
When dragons breathed fire, fairies sang of nature, and spirits roamed alongside.
Magic was deeply woven into daily life, and Tetradia was the sacred place of magic, the gathering ground that harmonized the continent.
[We were defeated.]
Defeated.
[Defeated by what?]
By gods from another world and the tribes that followed them.
We fought against that endless darkness and naturally gave it a name.
That name still lingers unconsciously to this day.
“That name is—”
“Abyss.”
The abyss.
In truth, I don’t know much about that war.
I was already in this state at the very beginning of the war.
Purunel became a Specter in the early war.
Still, his reason remained clear enough to grasp the flow of events.
[The entire continent was soaked in darkness.]
Dragons, fairies, humans, and spirits all joined forces to fight the endless darkness.
But the darkness was truly infinite—an abyss itself.
It was said to be a very long and drawn-out battle.
But unlike this finite world, they were infinite, and in the end, the continent grew desolate.
Dragons fell, fairies wailed, and spirits vanished.
The fertile land became barren, and the overflowing blessings of the gods dried up.
Had even the gods’ power reached its limit?
The Holy Power dimmed as well.
[Tetradia made a decision.]
The continent’s greatest sages gathered together to research the magic of the ultimate mage.
What that magic was, and how it was achieved, I don’t know well—after all, look at the state of things now.
But I know the outcome quite well.
[It failed. Or rather, it was half a success.]
The Abyss races scattered across the battlefield were forever sealed in Tetradia, closing the gates they came through.
That was the half-success.
So what was the half-failure?
‘Was there truly no ultimate magic?’
‘Is success without a price impossible?’
Tetradia had to pay everything for it.
That is the reason for the current age.
The loss of all things magic.
At least for humans born in this world, a curse engraved like a scar on their souls—loss.
The lost glory of magic’s past, the methods of wielding it, nothing could be clearly recalled.
At first, people tried to force magic to continue, but as time passed, it naturally faded and grew distant, becoming a subject of contempt.
‘Thus, no one in this world can learn magic’
But Hio knows.
Despite that world, there was one person who longed for magic until the moment of death.
‘Even so… there was a master who taught you magic. Truly, I feel awe.’
Closing my eyes, I can almost see his life.
He must have been frustrated.
The world had lost magic.
No matter how much he tried, magic would not manifest as he wished.
Forcing what didn’t fit, twisting and patching it, finally kindling a tiny flame.
The world called him a clown, a fraud, and scorned him, yet he endured and endured—the great mage who persevered.
Even after devoting his entire life.
Even struggling just against a single Kobold.
That longing never extinguished and burned endlessly, eventually reaching Hio.
So.
Purunel says: “I cannot teach you.”