‘But...’

Yuder stopped thinking and shifted his gaze. His eyes fell on Inon, whose lips were tightly shut. The chill that had been creeping up his spine only moments ago quietly dissipated at the sight of that face.

“If what you said really happened, then when the magic succeeded, wouldn’t the Great Mage have at least visited the Gillandre Hill or come to see you? But that didn’t happen.”

If the kind of magic Inon spoke of was truly possible and had succeeded, then that would’ve been the natural course of things, wouldn’t it? Even if we set aside the case of that mage from centuries ago who claimed to be the incarnation of the Great Mage and was taken away, Yuder’s grandfather had never once left the area where he had lived.

At Yuder’s point, Inon let out a long hum.

“Well... maybe it wasn’t a complete success. Like I said earlier, I only meant that if it were Luma, it might have been possible. That doesn’t mean it would’ve been easy. Even I expected to be born with the spirit’s memories, personality, or even racial traits, but I came into the world a total blank.”

This was something Yuder had never heard before. When he raised an eyebrow, Inon explained a bit more.

“Humans inherit traits from their parents, right? Luma assumed that I’d either retain the spirit’s memories or at least be born with some spirit-like characteristics. But I didn’t have either. I think he said the only resemblance was in my face. Even the hair color was the same, but not identical.”

Inon had been no different from an ordinary human infant at birth. He had no memories, no idea what he was capable of, and had to discover and learn everything from scratch. Naturally, he couldn’t communicate in the way spirits instinctively could.

“Spirits are a species that can live independently the moment they’re born. They already know who they are and what they can do, so there’s nothing for them to learn. Luma thought I’d be like that, but what he got was a total idiot. You can imagine how shocked he must’ve been. He thought the magic had failed and desperately searched for a way to fix it. In the end, he gave up and just decided to teach me.”

Even if the result had been unexpected, there was no doubt now that the time Luma spent raising and teaching Inon became precious memories for the Great Mage.

Perhaps Inon also understood that now, as he gave a wry smile through a grimace.

“You get it now? Magic involving the soul is that difficult.”

“I understand that part. Even if the magic succeeded, there’s no telling what kind of side effects might’ve occurred.”

Yuder remembered hearing that when his grandfather brought him home, it was as if he didn’t even know who he was. He could read, but regaining common sense took a long time, and even his handwriting had changed. No one had ever seen him use magic after the incident, so perhaps he had lost his mana altogether. Yuder recalled a mage from his previous life who had been severely injured by a disaster or monster and ended up unable to sense mana at all, forcing him to retire.

That mage had barely survived wounds so severe that others said death would’ve been kinder. And considering the hole left in the robe his grandfather had left behind—if he’d been injured in that exact spot—it wasn’t a place you could survive easily. Especially since a mage’s mana typically accumulates in the heart.

‘I’d assumed the mark wasn’t a wound since they said he wandered for days before arriving at the village with a baby, but...’

“Seems like something just clicked for you.”

“More like... I had a thought.”

Yuder candidly shared what he was thinking with Inon. Upon hearing it, Inon stroked his chin and wore an expression quite similar to Yuder’s.

“Your grandfather really is suspicious in many ways. Very suspicious. If he’d left behind any statements or written records, that’d be best. But are you saying there’s nothing?”

“I don’t know about words, but as for records...”

Yuder recalled the household ledger Kishiar had brought.

“The Commander took a few household ledgers because he wanted to examine them more closely.”

“...Household ledgers?”

“He seemed to think there might be some kind of code hidden in them.”

“That’s kind of funny... but if your Commander thought that, then maybe there really is something. Hm. Speaking of, that relic... what was it again? When were you going to show me that?”

Back on Gillandre Hill, Kishiar had said he wanted to show Inon the “Voice of Dreams” that he’d received from Prince Ezein—no, now the Crown Prince. The relic was thought to have been made by the blind sage who left the Orr Empire, suspected to be none other than the Great Mage Luma. The goal was to confirm if that was true or not.

And if they could uncover a clue to the relic’s usage—something no one else had figured out—that would be even better.

They’d parted ways with only that discussion since it was during a break, but now that they were back, he could bring it anytime.

“I haven’t heard anything yet, but he should be bringing it soon.”

Currently, the relic was being kept by the Court Mage Office. As for records related to the Imperial Mana Institution, requesting them officially would take too long, so they had to be accessed covertly—but the relic didn’t require such caution.

“Alright. Whether it’s the ledger or the relic, if anything new comes up, report it right away. I finished organizing all the materials on Gillandre Hill, so if there’s something you want to look for, just let me know.”

“Already?”

“I hate to admit it, but your damned Commander did the initial categorizing at an insane speed and perfectly at that. It helped a lot.”

Inon grumbled with a look that clearly said he didn’t want to say it.

“Creepy bastard. I thought for sure he’d made at least one mistake or overlooked something, but even after checking twice, there was nothing. The rest was just routine organizing, reading, and summarizing, so it wasn’t too mentally taxing. Just took ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) a lot of time...”

That was incredibly good news. Yuder’s expression brightened, and Inon gave a pouty smile as he leaned back lazily in his chair.

“Look at that. All I had to do was praise that bastard and your face lit up.”

“...It’s not just because of that.”

“If you know what I went through, you’d better pay me back a hundredfold later. Got it? And I’m not talking about whatever your Commander gives me—I’m collecting personal gratitude from you too. A tiny bottle of tea like this isn’t nearly enough!”

“...Should I give you more?”

“Huh? You have more?!”

Yuder had only said it on a whim, but Inon immediately perked up.

Kishiar had given him five small bottles, each about the size of three fingers. Giving more to Inon would reduce what remained, but Yuder had something entirely different in mind.

‘It’s better to just give it and make a new batch.’

“I’ve got a few more. If you like it, I’ll give you some and make another.”

“You can still make this here?”

Yuder mentally reviewed the list of herbs Inon grew, wild herbs in the area, and ingredients available at the market, then nodded.

“It won’t be exactly the same, but it’s doable.”

“What?! Then give me one more now and hurry up and make a new batch! I thought you couldn’t make it here!”

Although he’d said Yuder could take them all, Inon only accepted one extra bottle. It seemed he’d figured out that the others were meant for someone else.

“If I ration it, this one bottle should last me about two weeks. Make a new batch before then.”

Yuder silently nodded. Only after he promised to return with ten times the current amount of powdered tea did Inon smile with satisfaction and give him permission to leave.

“Go on, and don’t start overworking yourself just because you’re feeling better!”

—

A day passed, and a new morning dawned.

After morning training ended, Yuder gathered two members of the unit from the dispersing crowd.

“Kanna, Gakein.”

“Hm?”

“Come with me for a second.”

The two blinked at the same time, then looked at each other and started whispering.

“Did you do something to Yuder yesterday, Gakein? I didn’t.”

“I just said hi! Maybe it’s because of the mission you did?”

“Then why would you be called too?”

“Oh—do you think it’s special training?!”

“It’s nothing major, just come on.”

Yuder sighed and repeated himself. Only then did the two follow him, curiosity written all over their faces. When they reached a shaded spot away from other people’s eyes, Yuder pulled out two small bottles from his coat. Naturally, they contained the powdered tea.

“Take it.”

“What’s this?”

“Is this some kind of evidence for a case? Should I read it?”

The two had no idea what they’d just been handed. Yuder said nothing, simply placing one in each of their hands.

“It’s something I brought from home. It’s powdered herbs you drink like tea. I made it. It’s a gift—but if you don’t want it, just say so.”

“...Huh? What kind of drink?”

“You... made this? Yourself?”

Awkwardly holding the bottles, they looked at each other—and then a moment later, both simultaneously slapped their hands over their mouths in a silent scream.

“Oh my god! Yuder!”

“If you give me something like this out of nowhere, I’m gonna cry! What is this?!”