Chapter 45: Three Circles, One Curse

Of all things.

Lamu was displeased.

Not only had Princess Jarha learned of the new spirit beast, but it belonged to a Gardion Tower mage.

Everything about the situation was inconvenient.

He quickly considered the best outcome.

The ideal scenario would be if the mage sold the beast.

But would they?

A rare spirit beast’s value was obvious, especially to someone from Gardion Tower—one of the continent’s top ten towers, once the strongest.

They’d know its worth.

Forcing a sale wasn’t an option; the mage wasn’t a Bretan citizen, and coercion could escalate into a major issue.

…I need to talk to them first.

Lamu stood, deciding.

“Are the Gardion mages in the reception room?”

“Yes, the second reception room,” the steward replied.

“I’ll meet the princess first. Let’s go.”

Kreng!

Lamu and Bresa left the taming chamber for the office.

Upon arriving, he saw Jarha, her escort tamer, and their spirit beasts—all 5th-grade or higher.

“I greet the princess,” Lamu said, sitting opposite her.

“I greet the duke. Bresa is as majestic as ever,” Jarha replied, her eyes gleaming with greed.

Lamu, used to this, cut to the chase.

“You arrived a day early. May I know why?”

“I have a request,” Jarha said, raising her hand.

Her escort placed an egg on the table.

…?

Lamu looked at Jarha, puzzled.

“It’s a Melid egg. It’s past hatching time, but it hasn’t hatched,” she said.

…!

Lamu was shocked.

Melids were high-grade spirit beasts, 5th-grade upon hatching, but notoriously difficult to tame due to their violent nature.

They’d devastate their surroundings under stress, requiring the king’s permission to tame or hatch.

How did Jarha have one?

“Princess, did the king approve this?”

“…Not yet.”

“This won’t do.”

“Once it hatches, Father will approve.”

“Come back with his permission, and I’ll help. Until then, I can’t.”

Lamu’s tone was firm.

Even with the king’s favor, a Melid was too dangerous for Jarha.

He wanted to confiscate the egg, but held back.

“…Fine,” Jarha said, raising her hand again.

The escort retrieved the egg.

“I have another request,” she continued.

“Speak.”

“I saw a fascinating spirit beast—unlike any I’ve seen, not even in the catalog. Its owner is a Gardion mage. To be blunt, I want it. Can you mediate?”

“I can try, but they’ll likely refuse.”

“No way. Just tell them it’s for royalty. They won’t refuse. The beast would be happier with me, don’t you think?”

“I’ll pass it along, but if they refuse…”

“Oh, I get it, though I doubt they will.”

Lamu stood, heading to the second reception room, thinking, She’s going to cause trouble.

Jarha’s agreement was superficial—she’d act on her own if denied.

I hope they’re willing to sell…

If not, she might resort to drastic measures, even harm.

At the reception room door, Bresa let out a low growl.

Kreng…?

Lamu looked at her, puzzled.

Bresa’s expression was one of sheer panic.

“Bresa? What’s wrong?”

Kreng…

Her response deepened his confusion.

Bresa was scared—her fear palpable.

…Why?

It made no sense.

What could scare her?

…Could it be?

He glanced at the reception room.

Bresa was staring at it, suggesting the cause was inside—likely the Gardion mages or their beast.

Not Elder Baren.

Baren was a 5th Circle mage, not someone a 6th-grade beast like Bresa would fear.

That left the spirit beast.

…Even a 7th-grade shouldn’t scare her like this.

Bresa was close to 7th-grade herself; even a 7th-grade beast shouldn’t terrify her.

“Want to stay out here?”

…Kreng!

Bresa hesitated, then roared, shaking off some fear, though not entirely.

I need to see what’s going on.

Lamu opened the door and entered, immediately noticing a young man with jet-black hair, pale skin, and a sturdy build.

His attention wasn’t on the man’s appearance but the spirit beast on his shoulder.

…What is that?

It was unfamiliar yet oddly familiar, as if he’d seen it before.

Gaon frowned, recalling Princess Jarha’s greedy gaze on Kring at the estate’s entrance.

She hadn’t acted, but his instincts—honed by years of experience—warned she would.

“Something bothering you?” Rotes asked cautiously.

“Just a bad feeling.”

“…The princess?”

“You felt it too?”

“Yes, her greed was obvious.”

At that moment, Gaon turned toward the door, sensing two strong presences approaching—Lamu, the Patrin Duke, and likely his beast, Bresa.

They stopped at the entrance.

Why aren’t they coming in?

Gaon’s sharp hearing caught Lamu’s voice, suggesting trouble with his beast.

The door creaked open, and Lamu entered, followed by Bresa.

Gaon glanced at Lamu, then at Bresa.

As expected, it’s miniaturized.

Bresa, an 8-meter-long, 4-meter-tall beast, was now under a meter, like Kring, in a miniaturized state.

“Greetings. I’m Lamu, head of the Patrin Ducal House,” Lamu said to Rotes.

Rotes stood, replying, “I’m Baren, an elder of Gardion Tower. This is Lord Gaon, an Archmage.”

…!

Lamu flinched, turning to Gaon, who smiled in lieu of a formal greeting.

Lamu, slightly flustered, bowed and said, “My apologies. You’re so young, I didn’t realize.”

“It’s fine,” Gaon said casually.

Lamu paused, struck by two things.

First, Gaon’s informal tone—despite being an Archmage, Lamu was a duke, not someone to be addressed so casually.

Yet, he couldn’t take offense; Gaon’s status demanded respect.

Second, he realized why Bresa was scared—not the beast, but Gaon, the Archmage.

Still, it puzzled him—Bresa had met Archmages before, so why this reaction?

“Will you be handling the magic circle repair?” Lamu asked, trailing off.

“That’s me. Can I see it now?”

“Yes, I’ll guide you.”

Lamu led the way, thinking, This complicates things.

Jarha wanted the beast, but its owner was an Archmage, not a common mage.

Would an Archmage sell?

Unlikely.

Even raising the topic was risky—if it upset Gaon, it could spell trouble.

I need to dissuade the princess.

Jarha’s recklessness wouldn’t extend to harming an Archmage.

They stopped.

“This is the first circle,” Lamu said.

“First?”

“You didn’t know?”

Lamu was surprised, assuming Gaon was informed.

“There are three magic circles in our estate, all interconnected. The first and third are malfunctioning. Previous repair attempts warned the second might fail within a year or two.”

“I see,” Gaon nodded, examining the first circle.

After a while, he tilted his head.

“The second circle?”

“This way.”

Lamu led him to the second circle, where Gaon’s expression darkened slightly.

Lamu thought, Is it impossible?

Gaon’s look suggested he couldn’t fix it.

Then Gaon said, “Is the third circle to the north?”

…!

Lamu was stunned.

“How did you…”

Gaon knew nothing of the circles or their connections, yet pinpointed the third’s location?

Was his ignorance feigned?

“Let’s check it,” Gaon said, leading the way.

At the third circle, Gaon clenched his teeth.

Those Abyss bastards.

Individually, the circles were excellent—enhancing defense and cultivation, with synergy from their interconnection.

Even experts would praise their intricacy.

But with slight tweaks, they’d become a horrific formation: the Ritual of Sacrifice, an Abyss creation that turned all within its range into offerings for a Source of Life.

“Who set these up?” Gaon asked.

The Ritual of Sacrifice wasn’t easily crafted—he needed to know who placed it in Bretan’s ducal estate.

“I don’t know their identity,” Lamu replied.

“…You entrusted it without knowing?”

“The king vouched for them, said to trust them…”

“…The Bretan king?”

An unexpected name emerged.