The expression in Sallandin’s eyes—once simply that of a cranky old woman running a dusty shop—had changed. The formal tone she’d adopted since their second visit, the straighter posture, and the weight behind her every word were all signs of a caution and gravity not seen before.

"To begin with, yes. I did see the group of mages who came long ago to investigate the mana distribution in the Airic Mountains. During the year or so they stayed in the area, I met a few of them several times for simple transactions. They’d sell mined mana stones or magic tools they’d crafted on the side... purely business."

A shiver ran down Yuder’s spine. He fixed his gaze on Sallandin’s face, determined not to miss a single word.

"I also heard the news that monsters had suddenly appeared in the village they were staying in and caused great damage. That village was eventually shut down entirely due to the aftermath. A terrible accident, truly. I remember hearing that people from the capital came and went for quite some time afterward to conduct investigations. Some of those dispatched from the Imperial Mage Bureau even came to this shop. Again, just for routine transactions."

"..."

"Mr. Mel first came to this shop about a year after that accident. I had never seen him before that. But, yes... from the first time we met, I suspected that he might be a mage related to that tragic incident."

That was unexpected. She’d never met the man before the accident, and yet she’d confidently assumed he was connected to the event the moment she saw him?

Kishiar seemed to have the same thought.

"You said you hadn’t seen him before. Then how could you make such a guess?"

At that, Sallandin slowly pulled off the shawl draped over her shoulders. Without hesitation, she rolled up the thick sleeve of her robe, revealing a spot on her arm.

Just below the elbow. On a part of the arm not easily noticed, there was a small symbol, no bigger than a thumbnail.

"Do you see this?"

The black-inked marking was simple: two triangles joined at their points within a circle. It resembled either a butterfly or an hourglass.

And Yuder found it oddly familiar.

I’ve definitely seen that before, somewhere...

As he racked his brain, Sallandin looked directly at him.

"If you’re truly Mr. Mel’s family, then you’ve probably seen it before. He had the same mark. It was faded—almost gone due to a scar—but I recognized it."

The moment she said that, the memory flashed back with shocking clarity.

...Right. Grandfather’s mole.

As a child, he’d bathed with his grandfather and noticed a strangely shaped dark spot on his upper arm, partially obscured by an old scar. He used to poke at it curiously, thinking it looked odd or maybe even painful. His grandfather would laugh and say it didn’t hurt at all.

As he grew older and no longer needed help bathing, that mark stopped being remarkable. It simply became a familiar part of someone he loved.

Could it really have been that...?

Seeing Yuder’s expression narrow slightly, Kishiar whispered beside him.

"You’ve seen it before, haven’t you?"

"Yes. I always thought it was just a mole..."

"It’s not a mole. It’s a symbol."

Sallandin said evenly.

"It’s called the ‘Loop of the Future.’ I had it engraved when I was walking the path of a mage. It was the emblem of the magic sect I once belonged to."

Just like religions have denominations and knights have martial schools, mages also group into academic sects based on shared ideology or research focus. The number and nature of such groups vary widely—even teachers and students may belong to different ones.

"What kind of sect?"

"It had no name. It wasn’t formally organized, and there were no required activities. But from what I understand, it’s been around for a very long time. The only rule was that we affirm the Mana Revolution of Luma and vow to never use our magic to harm people—only to help the world."

The name Luma made Yuder’s heart give a tiny leap. Kishiar tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable.

"Sounds very noble."

"Yes, it does. But that kind of rule isn’t so easy to uphold. And the sect was so obscure that almost no one went out of their way to join it. I only did because I was moved by a senior mage who studied with me. I never even learned who else might’ve been part of it."

Sallandin’s gaze drifted back to her arm.

"I completely forgot about it after I left the path of magic. Or at least, I thought I had—until the day I saw the same symbol on Mr. Mel’s arm."

"So you recognized it and became certain he was a mage. But... didn’t you ask him about it directly?"

"I didn’t. Not directly. I hadn’t left the mage world on good terms. But as I mentioned earlier, I did ask if he was a mage or a scholar."

But Yuder’s grandfather had never answered.

"After that, I tried to find out on my own. If he really was a mage, I thought maybe he’d lost his memory in the accident."

Up to this point, it all aligned with what Kishiar and Yuder had speculated. But the steps Sallandin had taken went further than expected.

"I asked around carefully among the investigators from the Imperial Mage Bureau who passed through here. They confirmed that a mage matching Mr. Mel’s description was indeed on the list. When I mentioned he’d visited this shop, they shared the story with some sadness."

According to what Sallandin heard, the village where the accident occurred had burned down so thoroughly that distinguishing the dead from the missing was impossible. The investigators hadn’t even considered the possibility of survivors—they were too busy tallying the damage.

"But the description I heard of that mage didn’t match the man I met at all."

"Didn’t match? In what way?"

"He had a reputation for being diligent in his research, but also extremely stubborn. No family. No interest in history or ancient languages. Very proud of being part of the Mage Bureau. Loud, fussy, a typical noble mage. He had a decent reputation among other mages, but he was not the type to ever live quietly among commoners—even if he’d somehow survived."

"I see."

"But the physical description matched perfectly. And there was no one else among the missing who fit it."

"So what conclusion did you come to?"

A curious smile curved at Sallandin’s lips.

"That was when I remembered something. Something my senior told me the day I had this symbol engraved."

She traced the tattoo on her arm again as she continued.

"They say the sect was founded by a great mage. He promised that someday, he would bestow his power as a blessing upon those who followed the [N O V E L I G H T] sect’s ideals. And supposedly, hundreds of years ago, a mage who sacrificed himself to protect others experienced a miraculous recovery through a mysterious force. That event, recorded in history as an unexplained healing spell, is believed to have been the result of that blessing. But his affiliation with the sect was never known."

It sounded like a myth—too vague to be credible. But Kishiar didn’t laugh.

"I know the story. Around 480 years ago, a mage from the Pearl Tower saved people from a monster attack and was fatally wounded. He had no cleric with him—should’ve died. But his wounds suddenly healed. No one could explain it, and since it never happened again, they wrote it off as divine favor. The Pearl Tower considered it a huge embarrassment, from what I’ve heard."

So it was real?

"I don’t know all those details. What matters is that he was from the same sect."

Sallandin smirked slightly.

"According to the sect, the mage changed after receiving the blessing. He began spouting knowledge he’d never studied before. Eventually, he claimed to be the reincarnation of the great mage himself and was deemed mad. They locked him away, and he died in confinement."

"Doesn’t sound like a happy ending. That part wasn’t recorded in the historical accounts."

"Who would accept a mage claiming to have been blessed by the divine? I always figured they used that claim to justify dissecting him in secret."

"..."

"But if it happened once, maybe it could happen again. Same symbol. A catastrophe that should’ve been fatal. And a man who returned, changed but alive. You may think it’s absurd, but I don’t think it’s so far-fetched."

The blessing of the great mage.

Yuder repeated the unfamiliar phrase silently in his mouth.

"Does the story mention who this great mage is supposed to be?"

"I don’t know. Some say it was Estras, others a nameless mage from another land. The senior who introduced me to the sect believed it was Luma—since our only rule aligns with the Mana Revolution attributed to him."

"..."

"In any case, that’s why I watched Mr. Mel for so long. I wanted to know if he was truly someone blessed by the great mage. So... I quietly made sure he never crossed paths with other mages visiting the village or this shop. And I observed him for years."