SMMA 73

Chapter 73

Spirits did not welcome guests unconditionally. Though wordless, they each had their own tempers and tastes. And naturally—there were guests whom spirits feared.

Professor Thunderstep recalled an old tale.

A magician, indifferent to spirits through most of his life, finally reached Archmage status, only then deciding to summon one. His skill granted him easy access to the Spirit Realm, but the spirits did not welcome him.

The intensity of his soul’s aura terrified them.

A mercenary who had bled through countless battles, a swordsman who had slain dozens—such lives stained and reshaped the very color of one’s spirit. Spirits shrank from that kind of life-force.

Thunderstep himself had struggled to understand why a magus who mastered countless secret arts should be treated the same as a blood-soaked veteran. But the spirits had made their will clear.

Thus it was better to bond with spirits while still young. With age, the effort grew harder.

“Then why me, Professor?” Ihan asked.

“Perhaps the spirits sense your merciless thoroughness?”

“……”

“A jest. Realistically, it is your mana reserves.”

Ihan, born of House Wadanaz, hadn’t entered the Academy with blood on his hands. No—his sheer excess of power was the culprit. The raging storm that was his mana could overwhelm any lesser spirit.

“But there is a way. Even that Archmage in the story succeeded in the end.”

“Oh? How?”

“He bound the spirit forcibly with magic first—then built a relationship.”

“…But aren’t spirits stronger in their own realm?”

Exactly so. Like beasts on home ground, spirits outmatched any human foolish enough to fight them on their turf.

“A minor technical issue,” said Thunderstep. “Anyway—good luck!”

“……”

Ihan did not despair. To do so would delight the professor, and that he would not allow.

Next time, I’ll raid the hut for more food stores…

Thankfully, friends worried as though his misfortune were their own.

“This truly is grave, Lord Ihan Wadanaz.”

“??”

He blinked. The Blue Dragon students were so startled that they briefly mistook Siana for one of them—she had appeared that silently.

When did she arrive?
I’ve no idea…

“Sometimes, spirits misunderstand, and fear certain people. Even within our order, we’ve seen cases like these,” Siana explained.

“Is there a solution?” Yonellia asked.

The priestess frowned deeply in thought.

“If in the Spirit Realm they flee, then perhaps meet them first here. A mark of friendship granted in the real world may ease their wariness.”

Ihan’s gaze flicked to his staff. It contained a wood-spirit, after all. Yet—it clearly hadn’t helped.

“Other ways? Your order must have methods—?”

“In Plemonn, we relied upon potions.”

Alchemy’s order had their own solutions.

At her words, Ihan brightened.

“Potion-use works?”

“Of course.”

They had already used spirit-affinity tonics in class. Stronger brews could even erase fear and turn the drinker appealing to spirits.

“Ooooh…!” the Dragons gasped.

Plemonn’s reputation swelled further, pride gleamed in Siana’s eyes.

“I’ve heard rumors,” said Yonellia. “Plemonn’s secret brews include spirit potions.”

“Very true, Lady Yonellia of Meikin. I myself once aided in crafting one. If you wish, I shall make it for you.”

Her voice was gentle, generous. House Wadanaz’s boy, who honored her sect, deserved such a gift.

“Would you share with us too?” asked the others timidly.

“But of course.”

Her nod widened their awe.

She quickly scribbled a list, quill scratching across the page. Ingredients filled the sheet rapidly:

• 갈피리
•  (Galpiri) – A rare herb/plant name, likely fictional.
• 나이신스 꽃
•  (Naishinseu kkot) – Naishins Flower (a magical or rare flower).
• 다두딱정벌레
•  (Dadu Ttakjeong Beolle) – Dadu Beetle (a type of magical beetle).
• 루비화 오석
•  (Rubihwa Oseok) – Ruby-Transmuted Stone (a gemlike alchemical stone).
• 
  … and many more.

“Can such a list even be gathered?” they groaned.

“Perhaps not in the wild… But there is one place. Professor Thunderstep’s laboratory, above this very hall, contains all you need.”

“……”

“…?”

For once Ihan faltered.

She can’t mean…

Ah. She must mean ask for permission.

Relieved, he thought of how absurd to imagine her suggesting—

“We shall sneak in and take them.”

“……”

Stunned, Ihan reeled.

No… no…

Yet his peers rose in rapture.

“Priestess Siana!!”
“Now I see why Wadanaz lauded you so highly!”
“You are the Empire’s salt and light!”

Panicked, Ihan tried to rein it back.

“You’re too kind, but isn’t that… dangerous?”

“But it’s sanctioned. Did not the Headmaster himself encourage such things?”

“……”

Touché. He could not refute.

Siana’s slit-pupil eyes gleamed in delight.

“Don’t worry. They say you have wandered at night many times unseen, Lord Wadanaz.”

“He has, indeed,” his friends confirmed, proud.

Asan wiped his nose. “And even if you’re caught, you won’t be blamed. We’ll never resent you.”

“I… thank you so very much.”

“Think nothing of it.”

It was tempting. The promise was like the tales of thieves retiring—Just one big job, then I’m free forever.

One huge strike—a future secured.

Yet a poke in the ribs pulled him back.

Turned—Nillia glared.

“Don’t leave me out again. Not Ratford only. Promise.”

“……”

Ihan tilted his head back toward the sky. It was too blue, too peaceful for his growing madness.

Summons prowling school grounds, professors scheming new torments… Some things, however, never changed.

Professor volady’s lessons foremost among them.

WHACK!

“Ungh.”

Another orb slammed into Ihan’s back.

He endured.

Though trained, he could not match volady’s inhuman control. The paths twisted unpredictably, unerring, devilishly fast.

Each strike came with uncanny pressure; every lapse—each slack of cohesion—saw the orb pierce through like a spear.

“You lack focus.”

“I am focused.”

But volady kept raising stakes. With Ihan stronger, volady simply raised hurdles more. To fail was inevitable.

Yet volady, blind to himself, never saw how cruelly he moved the bar.

Strange… He had been doing so well, but now he falters…

Most students broke early. Ran. Quitted. But Wadanaz endured. Why stumble now?

Even volady knew—if harshly—that the boy had excelled unnaturally. By any sane measure, his course was criminal. Yet to him, it had seemed “adequate.”

The orbs froze mid-air.

“What—?”

Ihan stiffened. A trap? A feint? Halt, lull into false rest—then new onslaught? It would be just like volady.

“I see why you falter.”

“!”

Did he… did he know Ihan planned to raid Thunderstep’s laboratory?!

“As with the golem—you try to add spin to your water spheres.”

“……”

Ihan knew who to blame: the Skull Headmaster. Only he could’ve exposed him with idle chatter.

“I…I had no such ambition—”

“Overreach.”

I know.

Lucky strike against a mud golem did not mean he dreamed of genius spheres.

“Do not rush.”

Advice? Real advice? volady never taught. His creed was simple: If I can, you can. To hear talk of excess, of patience—shocking.

But Ihan could not grasp the significance.

“I don’t intend to—”

“Wait.”

volady raised a hand.

An epiphany broke upon him.

What if he were Wadanaz? If told “do not rush,” Ida not believe it. A mage’s duty was path-walking; to stand before a road and refuse was to forfeit being a magus.

“I understand.”

“What’s that mean?!”

Dread gripped Ihan. Professors concluding things alone never ended well.

“From now, you will rush. I shall push you until you must.”

“Wait—!”

Storm returned before the word finished, orbs raining anew.