After a prolonged silence, Syrkal spoke up. “Then why didn’t he inform us of this fact?”

Unable to comprehend, she murmured to herself. The chief, struggling to sit in his chair, shook his head. “I don’t know either. Just as a small creature can’t understand the actions of a great being, we cannot fathom his intentions.”

“The only certainty is that he has once again saved our tribe. So we must do what we can in return.”

“What we can do?” Syrkal asked.

“Yes. The only thing we small creatures can do for him is to offer reverence. That’s—” He smiled brightly. “—what we, blessed by his grace, must do. And you, as his apostle and future chief, are obliged to carry it out. Can you do it?”

Syrkal paused briefly at the chief’s words, and at the same time, she remembered—the brilliant white light that spread through the ashen world when they faced Basiliora.

She answered without hesitation. “Yes.”

*****

Alon had traveled from Caslot to Terea, the capital of the Kingdom of Asteria, for about two weeks, with just one day left until his arrival.

“Only one day left, my lord,” said Evan.

“So it is,” Alon replied.

“Will you return to the dukedom right after meeting the Queen?”

“Of course.”

Evan spoke near the camp where Alon was practicing magic, prompting Alon to sigh. “My lord, it seems your magic has been getting stronger lately.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. I can tell because you’ve been repeating the same magic over these two weeks.”

Alon, who had been looking at the place where he’d just practiced, thought, Yes, it does seem stronger.

Seeing the large hole blasted into the ground, he wore a curious expression. Despite using magic regularly for exploration, a sudden increase in power didn’t make sense, since his research focused on efficiency, not strength.

Continuing his thoughts, Alon suddenly hypothesized, Could it be that my level has increased without any signs?

Considering that his magic had intensified due to an increase in level, it seemed plausible. Yet he was increasingly puzzled, since he couldn’t pinpoint where that level was accumulating.

I can’t think of any significant events that would increase my level.

Level comes from continuous reverence—meaning it doesn’t arise from saving people with magic in isolated incidents, but through a sustained, absolute belief.

Where could it be accumulating?

Deep in thought about this strange situation, Alon recalled Deus’s recent deeds, which had more to do with faith than truth. But he quickly dismissed it. No way could that lead to actual faith.

Briefly puzzled, he sighed and set the matter aside, since “level” wasn’t crucial at the moment.

The real issue is this.

Alon looked at the red ring with a snake pattern on his finger and tentatively infused it with magic. However, the ring, which was supposed to bind Basiliora and respond to magic, remained unresponsive.

This shouldn’t be happening.

His expression stayed impassive, but he was troubled. Normally, the binding target within the Kalguneas Pact Ring should be summoned when magic is infused—although, due to his insufficient magic power, it might appear only as an incorporeal spirit. Even that wouldn’t be a major issue.

There was a way to summon without being constrained by magic power. Alon’s concern was whether Basiliora could be summoned without any issues—but no matter how much magic he poured into it, the summoning did not occur.

“More precisely, it feels like it’s about to happen, and then it doesn’t.”

Clearly, his magic was draining significantly, and there was a moment when the array seemed to form a spirit, suggesting the summoning was about to occur.

Is it deliberately not appearing?

A rational suspicion arose. I’ll have to ask Heinkel.

He remembered the original owner of the ring, a great mage who had used it more effectively than anyone else.

“Evan.”

“What is it, my lord?”

“When is the magic conference happening again?”

“Oh, I’m not entirely sure... but if it’s as usual, it should be in about a month.”

That wasn’t a short time. Deciding to ask Liyan for help once more, Alon looked at the spirit egg.

It’s been almost two weeks of feeding it magic without a sign.

During the two weeks to Asteria, despite consuming potions, the spirit egg showed no reaction.

It might be because my magic power is ridiculously low... Maybe the Queen will know something.

It had been Cretinia Siyan who first sent him to the ruins of Malacca, and he thought of that as well.

“My lord, have some sweet potatoes. It’s chillier than in the jungle, so they taste really good.”

“Really?”

Captivated by the sweet potatoes, Alon thought, I’ll find out tomorrow.

He sat next to Evan and took a bite of the well-roasted sweet potato.

“Tastes good.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“I should have brought some of that Stormvi meat, too.”

“I think the sweet potatoes are dozens of times better.”

The sweet potatoes tasted especially good on an autumn evening.

And the next evening—

“My lord, we’ve arrived.”

“Good.”

Seeing the familiar landscape of Terea in the distance, Alon said, “Let’s go straight to the castle.”

“Yes.”

They headed toward Cretinia Siyan, and not long after—

“Oh, have you arrived?”

In his office, the monarch of Asteria greeted him with a still-leisurely expression.

*****

Deus Macallian’s sister, Sili Macallian, was in a very good mood today. There were two reasons: her brother, Deus Macallian, who had been on a business trip, returned today so they could have dinner together; and Sili, as a mage, had reached the First Rank today.

“Hehe~”

She couldn’t help but laugh. The words her mentor had surprised her with over the past year came to mind: “You have talent.”

Having talent—coming from a magic mentor who wasn’t one to give empty compliments—was very sweet to Sili. After all, her only family, Deus Macallian, possessed a brilliant talent for the sword.

Although she hadn’t acted out of jealousy, she had indeed envied him, which made her current validation as a mage all the more delightful—especially since she had excelled in four of the eight elements: fire, ice, lightning, and wind.

I’ll boast to my brother...!

Sili was looking forward to the banquet with Deus. He would be the happiest to hear this news, as he was the one who’d suggested she learn magic.

It must have been because of him that Brother suggested I try magic.

Sili knew why he was obsessed with magic. It was impossible not to know. Whenever they were together and he started talking about that person, a dinner that should have lasted about thirty minutes would stretch late into the evening. Sili also knew that Deus occasionally tried to imitate Count Palatio’s use of magic in secret.

I’m going to surprise him tonight...!

With high hopes, she looked forward to the evening banquet.

When Sili finally met Deus that evening, she exclaimed:

“Brother, I’ve become a mage.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Yes.”

As expected, a gentle smile spread across Deus’s face, and she smiled back. “I’m truly proud of you; I knew you could do it.”

Delighted by his genuine reaction, Sili excitedly shared the discussion she’d had with her mentor that day. “So anyway, I’m planning to focus on the elements of fire and wind...!”

Deus nodded repeatedly, giving his sister a warm look. Just as an excited Sili was about to speak again, Deus interjected,

“Wait.”

“Because my mentor said the fire element is easy to learn—”

“What?” She paused, realizing something was off.

“...Brother?”

Up until a moment ago, Deus had been smiling warmly, but now his face had grown stern and serious.

Confused by the sudden change, Sili hesitated, and then Deus spoke. “Sili, as you know, our Macallian lineage has been known to inherit the elements of lightning and ice.”

“...Uh... what?”

She was even more confused.

It was natural to be confused. As far as she knew, there had never been a mage in the Macallian family, and their [N O V E L I G H T] parents were just ordinary woodcutters and herbalists.

But Deus continued, “Sili, this is an important issue. We need to be clear. Decide now—whether it’s fire and wind, or ice and lightning.”

He interrupted her with a seriousness that made it seem as if the Macallian lineage had historically mastered ice and lightning magic.

Sili looked at Deus, whose expression was more serious than ever. Tentatively, she started, “It seems like fire and wind are—”

“Ice, lightning.”

“...”

“Ice, lightning.”

After a moment of silence, she cautiously ventured, “Uh... ice, lightning?”

Trying to appease her brother, she finally said the words he wanted to hear. Deus nodded several times, a pleased smile spreading across his face.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“...”

“The Macallian lineage is definitely that.”

...The Macallian lineage... there’s no such thing...

Though Sili thought this briefly, she chose not to say it aloud.

It was an odd evening.