Chapter 39
A man who had been loitering around the fountain hurriedly ran toward Arcade and bowed deeply.
“Ah, g-greetings, Your Grace.”
“Indeed. Are you the mage who discovered the cavern beneath the village center?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
Answering, Malita stole a sideways glance at Andrew. He too had been one of those who couldn’t believe the Duke of Atelleon himself would come to this small village.
But it was that Duke.
The one who stood at the vanguard of countless battles, and who had never lost.
Whose sword was never free of enemy blood, whose steps always trailed a writhing black shadow that struck fear into all.
It was no exaggeration to say that the Atelleon Empire owed its glory to Arcade.
Arcade Atelleon. He was a hero. One who carried divine blood and wielded extraordinary power—the guardian of the Atelleon Empire!
And now, Malita was meeting that hero face to face.
He swallowed hard. His heart thundered in his chest. He tried to remain calm, but it was not easy. His fingertips trembled faintly.
His Grace came in person to see the cavern I discovered…!
Never in his life as a mage had Malita felt so proud. His heart pounded wildly.
“I must see the interior with my own eyes. Lead the way.”
“Yes, then I’ll open the gate.”
The entrance to the cavern was tangled with strands of mana, requiring a special method to open.
Malita drew a deep breath, carefully weaving his mana into the tangled threads.
The water that had been gushing from the fountain abruptly stopped, then the pool drained away as if flowing elsewhere.
Crkkk, crkkk—
The grinding of stone echoed. Cracks spread slowly across the central stonework of the fountain.
Craack.
Moments later, the fountain split neatly in two, revealing a staircase spiraling downward.
The solid gray stone steps vanished into an abyss as if the mouth of darkness itself had opened wide. A sight both ominous and mysterious.
A chilling air seeped upward from the depths to greet them.
“This is the entrance to the cavern,” Malita said in a tense voice, drawing the wand from his belt.
He blew upon its tip, and a flame flickered to life.
“It’s very dark on the way down. I’ll guide—”
“No need.”
Arcade strode forward.
Such darkness was nothing to one who commanded shadows.
And though the others could not see in the pitch black, Arcade’s own shadow writhed at his feet like a living thing. He had already sent it ahead from the moment the gate opened and confirmed there were no traps.
Arcade descended with practiced ease, Malita and Giselle following behind.
Malita, walking, could only gaze upward in awe at the Duke’s broad back.
Noticing his look, Giselle smirked knowingly.
There were plenty who revered the Duke as a hero; scenes like this were common for her, as his attendant.
“Well then, shall we quicken our pace?”
She pressed her free hand against her chest as she quickened her steps, glancing at Malita who was clutching his heart in excitement.
Since His Grace said nothing, it meant there was no danger.
I only need to watch my footing in this darkness.
Tap, tap!
Giselle’s brisk, lively footsteps echoed through the cavern.
The cavern stretched deep underground.
After descending the long stair, Arcade at last set foot on the bottom floor and surveyed the surroundings.
The damp, musty air and earthy smell unique to underground spaces enveloped them.
On the ground, a little away from the stair, was a magic circle, intricately carved with incomprehensible symbols.
Just like in the report.
And there…
At the center of the circle stood a rock, waist-high, and atop it rested a single book.
“……!”
The moment he saw it, Arcade’s heart dropped.
“As you requested, we left it exactly as it was when discovered. No one has entered since. Nothing has changed.”
“I see.”
Thump. Thump.
With each step closer to the book, his heartbeat grew louder.
The cover—just like the sketch in the report.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
At last, he reached out and opened it.
Ah.
Arcade froze, breath halted.
On the inside page was a signature—one achingly familiar.
Elaine’s.
The flowing yet refined strokes, the way she always extended the final line—it was unmistakable. Unfaded in memory.
His vision swam as he traced her name with trembling fingers.
For a long moment he simply stood there, before taking a deep breath and slowly turning the pages.
One by one. His eyes grew heavier, darker with each turn.
Deeper even than when he had first seen the sketch in the report.
The ache of longing for Elaine squeezed his chest.
And yet, at the same time, a cruel possessiveness surged: he had finally grasped a trace of her—and would never let it slip away again.
Gathering those turbulent feelings, Arcade let his fingers run across the edge of the fairy-tale book’s cover and asked calmly:
“What did you say this book’s role in the circle was?”
“Ah, yes! It was circulating mana through the array, keeping it constantly active. Without the book, the circle could never have lasted so long.”
“Then this fairy-tale book has some special function?”
Arcade narrowed his eyes at Malita.
“…Th-that is…”
Overwhelmed by the Duke’s gaze, Malita squirmed nervously before shutting his eyes tight and blurting:
“I-I don’t know!”
“You don’t know?”
“No matter how I examined it—even with clerics aiding me in probing it with divine power—nothing clear emerged. Only that some kind of mana sleeps within…”
He despised himself for having nothing more to offer, but he couldn’t lie before the Duke.
“…Mana?”
Arcade muttered low, studying the book.
It was Elaine’s creation. She had chosen the paper for its cover and pages, painted each picture by hand, and wrote every story herself.
Normally, mana only dwells in an object if a mage intentionally imbues it.
But sometimes, when something is crafted with absolute devotion, mana seeps in unconsciously.
So it was with this fairy-tale book.
As she painted, wanting only to show a child pretty pictures.
As she carefully strung together gentle words for the tale.
Without knowing, she had poured herself into the book—and mana had taken root.
Elaine…
He had often watched her quietly draw, wondered who she was devoting herself to. She only ever smiled when asked.
And all of it… had been for Lorr.
Arcade’s heart churned.
But if my senses are right, Elaine’s mana is…
“Yes. Mana can be felt. But it is tightly bound, sealed within the book.”
Arcade’s brow twitched.
As I thought…
Someone had schemed to exploit Elaine—her fairy-tale book—for vile ends.
“I see.”
His murmur was followed by the sudden bloom of shadows at his fingertips, so dense they seemed to devour all light.
Malita gasped.
Sh-shadows! His Grace’s power…!
It was one thing to meet the Duke himself, but to witness his ability firsthand—surely fortune smiled on him today.
The black shadow coiled around the book, seeping into its pages.
Fwaaah—
And from between those pages, a golden glow began to spill.
The shimmering motes mingled with the shadows, dancing above the book as if alive.
“Th-that!”
Malita’s eyes went wide. Giselle jabbed his side with her elbow.
“And what’s that, exactly?”
“The mana sealed in the book—it’s being released! No matter what we tried, it never opened, but now…!”
