During the year that remained before the summons from the House of Laingrime arrived, Ruin dedicated himself not only to honing his swordsmanship but also to putting his surroundings in perfect order.
Among those things, the one he focused on most was—
"Uuugh…"
"Just a little more, Sylvia. Concentrate."
"No… it won't work. No matter what I do, nothing's coming out…"
Sylvia's trembling hands betrayed her despair as she muttered tearfully.
"Calm down. Don't lose your breathing. Focus your mind and try to feel the flow around you."
"O-okay. Ruin!"
Closing her eyes tightly, Sylvia drew upon all her concentration.
In that moment, the gentle wind brushed past her ear and whispered—
[You're the one who called me, aren't you?]
"Huh?"
Startled, Sylvia's eyes flew open.
Whoooosh—!
A fierce gale surged before her, winds colliding violently as if a storm had descended.
Then, as though shaped by unseen hands, the wild currents of air condensed into a form. A small figure waved at Sylvia.
[Hello.]
The storm had turned into a little girl made of wind. Sylvia stammered nervously in reply.
"H-hi… h-hello."
[My name is Aerial. And you are…?]
"M-my name's Syl… Sylvia."
Though clearly flustered, she somehow managed to introduce herself.
Aerial, now smiling sweetly, took Sylvia's hand.
[Thank you for calling me, Sylvia. So, what should I do now?]
At that moment, Ruin interjected.
"Sylvia, quickly—form the contract."
"R-right, I almost forgot! Okay, Ruin."
Nodding, Sylvia turned her gaze back to Aerial, still holding her hand.
Aerial flicked her eyes toward Ruin for a brief second, but offered no other reaction.
Then Sylvia began to chant, her voice steady.
"By the primordial covenant, I, Sylvia Felton, seek to forge a soul contract with Aerial, spirit of the wind…"
It was the exact incantation Ruin had taught her.
Ziiiing—
A radiant light gathered around the little girl's form.
Finally—
"Will you… stay with me?"
Aerial nodded softly at Sylvia's question.
Whoooosh—BOOM!
The gathered light exploded and rushed into Sylvia's body.
Thud!
"Ah… it's done."
Sylvia collapsed where she stood, legs giving out beneath her.
As she muttered blankly, Ruin approached and patted her shoulder lightly.
"Well done, Sylvia."
Suddenly—
"...?!"
"Hehe… I did it. I finally did it, Ruin!"
Sylvia threw her arms around him, trembling with relief and joy.
Ruin froze for an instant at her sudden embrace, but then smiled faintly and stroked her back gently.
"Yes, you've worked so hard, Sylvia."
Indeed, Sylvia had poured herself into this. She had trained without pause, day after day, relentlessly sharpening her gift.
Thanks to that effort, she had accomplished in less than three years what would normally take others more than a decade—summoning and contracting a mid-tier spirit.
Who would believe it, if I told them she managed to call and bind a mid-tier spirit in under three years?
The strength of spirit arts stemmed above all from the affinity of the caster.
No matter how long one studied or practiced, if their natural affinity was too low, they could live and die without ever summoning a mid-tier spirit.
Of course, affinity isn't everything.
Even with great affinity, without discipline and constant practice, summoning was impossible.
In that sense, Sylvia was both gifted and diligent—a rare combination.
Perhaps one day she might even reach the level of contracting high-tier or supreme spirits.
"So, when are you going to introduce us to your new partner?" Ruin asked.
"Ah, right!"
Sylvia, still flustered, smiled shyly and called softly.
"Aerial?"
Whooosh!
The air stirred, wind gathering swiftly before forming the small, transparent figure of the girl again.
[Hello, Sylvia.]
"Wow! It really worked—I really formed the contract!"
Sylvia jumped in delight, while the mid-tier wind spirit Aerial watched her with a gentle smile.
Ruin, too, observed with a satisfied expression, though his eyes saw far more.
< Object Information >
Name: Aerial
True Name: (Unable to Interpret)
Attribute: (Unable to Interpret)
Description: A wind spirit descended from another dimension through contract. Appears to have growth potential.
Special Ability: Thousand-Mile Voice (Cheonrihwa, 千里話), (Unable to Interpret)
Further interpretation limited due to the constraints of Insight.
This really is broken, Ruin thought, once more marveling at his ability, the Eye of Insight.
Though much was still marked "unable to interpret," he felt sure those mysteries would be revealed as his
Could this ability itself be the true power of
To know things hidden from all others—Ruin, with the memories of living as Shadow 1872, knew better than anyone how invaluable such power was.
He glanced toward Sylvia, beaming at her spirit.
Her information was largely unchanged, save that her "Spirit Arts (Basic)" had now grown into "Spirit Arts (Intermediate)."
Good. Everything's in place before the summons arrives.
One of his goals had been achieved: nurturing Sylvia into a true spirit user.
And now—
With Aerial's special ability, Thousand-Mile Voice, Sylvia and I can stay in touch even after I leave for Banafen.
That ability allowed voices to carry across vast distances, as long as Aerial maintained the connection.
It would serve not only as a lifeline but also as the fastest way for him to receive news from his parents.
Of course—
"Sylvia."
"Yes?"
"Remember our promise?"
"…Our promise? Ah, of course! I'll keep Aerial a secret. Until you decide otherwise, I won't tell a soul!"
Sylvia's bright, sincere smile made Ruin nod in satisfaction.
"Good. That's enough."
No longer did he command soldiers willing to throw away their lives at his word.
But he had someone who, through her own will, strove tirelessly for his sake.
And above all—
"I'll do anything Ruin wants me to! Always!" Sylvia declared, her smile as clear and radiant as morning sunlight.
…So this is what life is?
Something unfamiliar yet stirring welled up deep inside Ruin's chest.
…
Not long after Sylvia's spirit arts had taken such a great leap forward, the time came to part ways with Master Lenovan.
"It seems today will be our last."
"Huh?"
"A new research project is about to begin. The Tower is forming a new scholarly society, and I'll have no time left to teach you, Ruin."
"A new research project?"
"Yes. Complicated and dangerous. I can't afford distractions. Regrettably, this is where our bond as teacher and student ends."
He did not elaborate further, but Lenovan's gaze softened with meaning.
"So then… Ruin, will you truly not follow me to the Tower? If you come with me, you'll receive both training and research experience. With your talent and intellect, you could become the Tower's most brilliant disciple in no time!"
It was his final, earnest offer.
But Ruin, though clearly regretful, shook his head.
"I'm sorry, teacher. I'm grateful for the offer, but I can't. Mother would oppose it strongly… and I'm sure Father would too."
"…I see."
Lenovan sighed, shaking his head.
Ruin grinned faintly and teased, "Then what about someone who does want to follow you? Like… Cabella?"
"Cabella?"
Lenovan's eyes lit up briefly at the name. Then he nodded.
"She'll be joining my research society."
"What? Really?"
"Yes. Her ability and talent are promising. She'll be useful for the research ahead."
Ruin nodded in understanding.
Lenovan chuckled wryly.
"Ha… if she insists on calling herself my disciple now, I can't deny it. Funny, isn't it?"
Shrugging, he winked at Ruin.
"Still, my last true disciple will always be you, Ruin. Even if only in name."
Moved by his words, Ruin bowed deeply.
"Thank you so much, Teacher Lenovan."
"Haha! No need for gratitude. I enjoyed it as well—teaching a sharp-minded student at my age was quite the pleasure."
Laughing heartily, Lenovan at last made his farewell.
"Now, let's not drag this out. Goodbyes lose their meaning when prolonged. Take care, Ruin."
"And you as well, Teacher."
Thus ended the years of tutelage under Lenovan, who had indirectly guided the growth of
And at last—
"Ruin."
"…So the time has finally come."
On his thirteenth birthday, a letter bearing the crest of Laingrime arrived, delivered by a familiar figure.
"It's been a while, Young Master Kabel."
It was Preon Zircajin, Great Lord of Seolam, who had once escorted Ruin to the Laingrime sword ceremony and served as his guardian there.
This time, he held a sealed summons.
"And here is the official call to arms."
Kabel, Ruin's father, took it with a heavy expression.
"…Does Ruin truly have to go?"
"Yes. It is the will of the Lord."
Preon's tone left no room for doubt.
He turned to Ruin, who had grown taller and stronger, and spoke gravely.
"Ruin, you are of Laingrime. You must answer this summons. You understand, don't you?"
But then—
"Ruin."
His mother, Daisy, who had been silent until now, spoke his name. Her voice was steady, but her eyes glistened with resolve.
"If you don't wish to go, then say so. Your father and I will stand by you, always. If you don't want to, you need not go. And…"
She trailed off, glancing at Preon and the elite Laingrime swordsmen behind him.
"Your father and I will make sure of it. Whatever it takes. Choose only what you want, Ruin."
Her desperate sincerity trembled in her voice.
"Yes, Ruin," Kabel added. "Tell us your true heart. Whatever it is, we will honor it."
Their determination was clear—they would even defy Laingrime itself for him.
But Ruin shook his head gently.
"No, Mother. Father."
"What?"
"I'll go to Laingrime. And…"
Looking at them both, he smiled faintly.
"I'll bring it back to you."
"…Bring what back?" they asked in unison, bewildered.
Ruin's reply was quiet, yet firm.
"Our rightful place."
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T/N:
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