Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 27: Three Letters

Scintilla gazed at the letter.

Her teachers from the Upper City had taught her not to approach suspicious magical phenomena. She turned by instinct, wanting to call her mother to come see. Then, she realized again that no one would ever answer her.

The moment reality sank in, even breathing became unbearable. Shaking, Scintilla climbed down from the chair and stumbled toward the letter.

Perhaps it was from her mother, worried about her and sending it from another world. Perhaps some great archmage had appeared to grant her the power to reverse time… Perhaps it was truly full of malice, and then it might as well kill her.

She only wanted to escape this moment.

Scintilla reached out a trembling hand and tore at the envelope three times before she got it open.

[Cut a lock of hair from the dead and use it as the sacrifice for the summoning ritual. You can bring back your mother.

Miss Scintilla, you’re a true genius. This is not taboo for you.

—V.O.R.]

The next day.

A teacher from the Upper City came to fetch Scintilla. He had specially prepared a tiger bone fragment for her to use as a summoning sacrifice.

Scintilla put the bone into her pocket. It was an excellent sacrifice, but she didn’t intend to use it.

She tied a lock of her mother’s hair with her favorite ribbon.

She carefully smoothed the dry, tawny strands and tied a bow with a white ribbon. She warmed it in her palms, pressed it tight against her heart, and made sure it stayed warm.

“Will Lady Philomina not be coming along?” the teacher asked by the carriage.

“Mother is feeling unwell today. I can go alone,” Scintilla said.

Like a little ghost, the girl crossed the dirt road, climbed the stone steps, and passed through the church doors framed by laurel branches and silver bells.

The other children’s noise sounded as if muffled by a film of water. She couldn’t hear anything. The splendid decorations around the ritual were like shifting mist. She couldn’t see anything.

She thought only of home, that little place where her mother always waited. The sunflower her mother had brought back with her own hands hadn’t yet withered. How could a person wither first?

Her heart pounded, yet she felt strangely calm. If the letter hadn’t lied, her mother could come home. If the letter had deceived her, then she would break a taboo and die, and go to keep her mother company.

Yes, she would see her mother either way.

…At last the court mage called her name. She stepped past gazes of expectation, curiosity, and envy, and walked to the center of the array.

She hid the hair in her palm and devoutly pressed her hand to the array.

In the next instant the taboo triggered. Pain swept her like a raging fire. Scintilla felt as if she had been stuffed into a meat grinder. Her eyes filled with tears at once, and she couldn’t even cry out. She nearly fainted on her feet.

Something took shape before the court mage, and she already knew its final form—a “fragment” of her mother.

The warm fingers that helped comb her hair, the tawny strands with their warm scent, the eyes that were always curved with a smile, the corners of the lips that smiled… That truly was her mother, warm and gentle.

But it wasn’t a complete “person”.

Those fragments drifted in confusion through her mind and churned her magic into a mess. Pale red magic was draining away at a terrifying speed, flowing into those fragments. It felt as if a wound had opened in her spirit and wouldn’t stop bleeding.

Just as she thought she would die, the loss of magic stopped abruptly, as if some balance had been reached.

The whole process took fewer than a few heartbeats, yet it felt like centuries.

Soaked in cold sweat, Scintilla couldn’t afford fear. She had only one hazy thought: if she grew a little older and her power a little stronger, could she summon back the complete form of her mother?

She must hide her mother first, or the court mage would capture her for breaking a taboo.

Forcing herself to stand straight, Scintilla hid her Magibase with all her might, exposing only the tip of a lock of hair and a pinky finger.

She wrapped the tawny hair tips around the little finger and let them float before the court mage.

A hubbub of exclamations seemed to rise around her, but she couldn’t hear a single word. It took everything she had not to faint, her eyes locked on what was before her.

“This…” Mage Fabian stared at the pinky that slowly writhed, thick with hair tips. “A caterpillar?”

Scintilla nodded with difficulty. Before the mage could verify it, she collapsed to the floor and gasped for breath as if suffocating.

The mage was startled and didn’t look closer. He cast a calming spell on her and told her guardian, her teacher from the Upper City, to take her away to rest.

From then on, Scintilla’s life began to sink.

At first, everyone waited for a miracle.

Magibases of famous mages were either enormous or of special species, so distinct that one could tell at a glance. Talented ordinary people usually summoned Magibases the size of a cat or dog. The genius Scintilla had summoned a caterpillar? Impossible.

But as the years passed, the “caterpillar” remained a “caterpillar”. Fewer and fewer important patrons were willing to sponsor Scintilla.

…Yet Scintilla was happy.

That broken Magibase couldn’t be shown in public, and her body had become very poor. But ever since she had it, she began to see her mother’s figure again and again.

At first her mother existed only in unseen corners: the fragrance of hot soup in the room, the scent on the pillow, the fresh herbs above the mantle.

Then came brief glimpses. Half asleep, she would see the familiar figure by the fireplace, feel the faint shift of the bed, and sense her mother’s cool caress.

Finally, one day four years later, she saw her mother whole. Healthy and beautiful, she sat in the rocking chair, mending clothes and smiling at her.

“Sweetheart, did you sleep well?” her mother asked in that familiar, gentle voice.

Not really. Over the four years her body had grown weaker by the day. Even standing made her dizzy.

Afraid of being exposed, she had almost shut herself in, throwing all her effort into researching Magibases. The “Magibase mother” had drawn vast amounts of her pale red magic, but the fragments only grew larger and showed no sign of returning to human form.

Her teacher had given up on her yesterday and demanded back tuition for the past few years. The last person supporting her was gone. Shopkeepers who had looked after her came calling, saying their favors had always been on credit and she in fact owed them a lot of money.

Even so…

“I slept very well, Mom.” Scintilla began to cry and reached her arms toward the mother in the vision.

Watching, Myss couldn’t help frowning.

Scintilla’s strange Magibase had clearly slipped out of control.

It drained her magic without day or night, and Scintilla was obsessed with the motherly illusion it created, making no resistance at all.

If it were an ordinary human, they would have been sucked dry at the moment of summoning. Scintilla’s talent was good, and by talent alone she had endured four years. At this pace, she wouldn’t live past ten.

He guided the black filaments and sifted through Scintilla’s decline, looking for variables within.

As luck would have it, the first variable appeared in her ninth year.

That day, Scintilla was hugging a bundle of old books and wobbling toward the Upper City.

Her old books couldn’t be sold to the rich, but poor scholars accepted volumes full of notes and dog-ears. Even a few silver shields would let her hold on for several more weeks.

She staggered through the crowd. Now and then, someone turned to look at her. Now and then her mother turned to look at her.

“Sweetheart, shall we go to the bookshop together?”

“Sweetheart, shall we visit the stalls together?”

“Sweetheart, I am with you.”

Her mother spoke gently until—

“Scintilla?”

Huey, carrying a bag of cookies, blocked her path.

Scintilla raised her eyes and stared blankly at the person before her.

Ah, this wasn’t her mother. Her mother wouldn’t suddenly grab her and pepper her with questions. Huey’s face shifted between “Mother” and “stranger”, as if reality couldn’t reconcile itself.

Huey thought she was afraid. He carefully crouched halfway and softened his tone as much as possible. “Scintilla, I’m a friend of your mother’s. You can call me Huey.”

“Scintilla, you don’t look well. Is anyone looking after you now? What about your teachers?”

Scintilla shook her head and continued to look at Huey in a daze.

Huey took a deep breath. “Those cold-blooded people… Child, I can’t get away right now. Go wait for me at the Hammer Tavern tonight. I need to buy some herbs for you. You can’t go on like this.”

“Take these and eat them first. They might be a bit dry. Remember not to drink cold water right away… Haa.”

He stuffed the cookies into Scintilla’s arms. They were greasy and heavy with sugar. Mother had not allowed her to eat too many of those, and she herself didn’t like overly greasy things.

So it truly wasn’t her mother.

That night Scintilla didn’t go to the Hammer Tavern. But Huey’s concern was like a draft slipping through the window seam. She suddenly felt a little interest in the world outside her small room. Only a little, but it was there.

She began to watch Huey and Hailey in secret.

Now and then she would take a roundabout route. She watched them happily buy cheese with berries at a stall, watched them cast trivial spells, and laugh at each other’s clumsy jokes.

Once in a great while, she found them quarreling. Then she would quietly cast memory magic to make them recall the good times.

But every time, every time, she never heard his knock at her door. It was always her mother reminding her that “Mother bought food,” and only then would she realize Mr. Huey had come by.

This couldn’t go on. Something wasn’t right, she thought. Perhaps she truly should consider asking for help.

“You have a letter. See who it’s from.”

Her mother suddenly came near and kissed her forehead. The kiss was warm and soft.

Scintilla lowered her head. She had received a letter from V.O.R for the second time.

Her mother had already opened it for her, or perhaps “she herself” had already opened it.

The letter said someone wished to discuss Magibase knowledge with her and was willing to provide ongoing consulting payment.

When she saw the research topic of that “Pilgrim”, Scintilla’s eyes lit up.

“Pilgrim” wanted to study the relationship between Magibases and the human body. Right, why had she never thought of that?

She could separate the Magibase and seal it inside a container. That way she could control the supply of magic and the Magibase wouldn’t continue to run wild. Even better, the person’s payment would be enough to fill her belly so she wouldn’t need to go out constantly.

Not only could she return to her normal life, but she could also keep her mother!

Scintilla immediately took up her pen and wrote the first letter to “Pilgrim”. When signing, she hesitated for a moment and changed the “Patient” she was about to write into “Patience”*.

*Clarity: She basically switches the meaning of her name by making the meaning less ambiguous. Before, the “Patient” she wrote refers to a sick person (a patient). She then changed it to “Patience” to refer to the adjective patient. Most likely this is intentional, as they both apply to her situation currently.

Everything wasn’t over yet. Everything would get better, she thought.

Humans are truly incomprehensible, Myss thought.

Intangible feelings could actually suppress the instinct to survive. And after all that, she still couldn’t let go of “Mother”?

Interestingly, whenever food appeared, Scintilla would still think of Huey. When she calculated magical formulas by the window, she would occasionally look outside for Hailey’s figure.

Those two forced her to remember that the mother before her was only an illusion… Speaking of which, what would happen if Scintilla fully accepted “Mother” as real?

This part wasn’t very interesting. Myss directed his magic to invade Scintilla’s last memories.

A noon two months ago.

Scintilla had nearly lost her senses. She couldn’t fully sink into delusion, yet she had no strength to be clear-headed, so she lived on the edge of madness.

But she no longer had any happy times of her own. Her “mother” was forever the mother from when she was five. Her mother’s gentle smile seemed sewn to her face and wouldn’t even quarrel with her.

Her mother wanted her to be happy and healthy. Yet she now had little happiness, and health was out of reach.

…Should she try to control her Magibase, or ask the adults for help?

…But what if the adults learned the truth and sealed her Magibase?

No, Scintilla shivered.

Then she would never see her mother again. She would never hear her mother’s voice or smell her mother’s scent. That suffocating night would return. She couldn’t imagine such a life.

Myss hummed with interest.

No wonder Scintilla hadn’t died.

Stimulated by Huey, her mind was no longer thrown wide open. Her subconscious began to reject the Magibase, and the rate at which it absorbed her power slowed a great deal.

He lifted his hand through that wavering time. The black filaments went deeper into Scintilla’s memories like a sharp dissecting knife.

The blade skimmed cleanly along flesh and bone, and Myss found the second variable.

It was a morning when Scintilla was eleven.

“Sweetheart, I bought you something tasty. I left it outside the door,” her mother said softly.

Scintilla struggled to get out of bed. Her stomach growled. She actually knew that wasn’t food her mother had bought… That was what Mr. Huey had bought for her.

At that point she was too weak to go out and had been without income for a long time. Huey came every few days, bringing coarse bread, salted meat, and seasonal fruit, and occasionally pastries with honey and butter.

They weren’t expensive, but they were very fresh and enough to keep her alive.

At night her mother held her as she slept. In the morning, when she opened her eyes, her mother looked at her from every direction. She pushed open the window, and one “Mother” after another passed below her window.

They prepared milk and bread for her, but she dared not eat. She didn’t even know what she would be putting into her mouth.

But she knew that death was close enough to touch. She could feel its chill.

At last she picked up her pen again and wrote a farewell letter to “Pilgrim”.

A taboo was a taboo. The miracle had never come, she thought wearily, and watched her mother carry the letter away.

But when her mother returned, there was another letter in her hand.

Seeing the familiar scarlet sealing wax, Scintilla felt nothing inside. She mechanically opened the envelope and read.

[Farewell, Miss Patience, my dear friend.

Fallen Child, we shall meet again in the season of harvest.

—V.O.R.]

Scintilla gave a tired smile and let her thin arm drop back to the desk.

Suddenly it was as if something bit her fingertip. Her pale red magic burst into countless filaments and wrapped her completely.

Her body gradually turned transparent. The air around her warped slightly, as if space itself had gone wrong.

In the next second the Scintilla in reality vanished.

And on the other side of the world, in the flesh-shrouded depths of darkness, a weak cry sounded.

Myss’s eyes flew wide.

He saw it with perfect clarity. The line “Fallen Child” lifted off the paper, transformed into a pea-sized white magic, and climbed onto Scintilla’s fingertip. It slid quickly to her chest and was hugged there by her without thinking.

Then it began to pulse gently, ravenously drawing in the magic around it, and gradually turned pitch black.

That was an Abnormal Fruit. No, more precisely, it was like the seed or pit of an Abnormal Fruit.

Those details didn’t matter. What mattered was that V.O.R had sown an Abnormal Fruit before his eyes, directly causing Scintilla’s mutation.

Such an unfathomable figure knew of Lord Karns and had clearly corresponded with him.

Compared to “Karns and his cronies messing with theory and accidentally summoning a Chaos Archdemon,” the involvement of a person like this made far more sense. Wouldn’t investigating this V.O.R first would be much faster than “aimlessly screening pen pals”?

Salaar had nearly let this earth-shaking clue slip by. So useless for a great hero. It had to be Myss himself. With one move he had seized a heavyweight piece of intelligence.

This would be enough to persuade Salaar and would make Kalen willing to go with them. Perfect.

The Demon Lord praised himself on the spot for ten seconds, then finally drew back the black filaments.

On the other side, the Magibase inside Scintilla had been annihilated, and its power swept away by the black magic. The little snake on his right wrist writhed in satisfaction and tickled.

Myss contentedly retracted the strands and withdrew his consciousness from Scintilla’s mind. Then he opened his eyes and was startled by the room full of brilliant gold magic.

Salaar’s flesh lute had disappeared at some point, and Scintilla’s missing body was healing rapidly.

This time Salaar’s treatment was very effective and met no resistance. Scintilla’s exterior became indistinguishable from an ordinary person, and even her excessive frailty had been remedied by Salaar. Unfortunately, the great hero couldn’t heal spiritual damage. The destruction done by the Magibase wouldn’t vanish in a short time, and she remained unconscious.

“Well done, Myss,” Salaar said with a smile as the golden light faded.

It happened to be daybreak. The morning sun spread into the room bit by bit, taking over from Salaar’s pale golden glow. In the dawn light, that face did not look so gloomy.

The little snake Knife reflected the warm sunlight and nodded gracefully. “An impressive rescue.”

“You’re not the one to boast!” Fork snapped up its head at once and hissed.

“And this wasn’t a rescue,” Myss said, lifting his chin and stressing the point. “Later I have to properly talk to you—”

Bang.

The mustached supervisor crashed the door open and strode straight into the room.

“What are you doing?” he shouted in anger. “Gone all day yesterday is one thing. You dare show up late today too?”

“The ceremony is about to start. You two, change clothes now!”

Myss: “…”

Wait, he remembered the ceremony should be tomorrow. Had they stayed a whole day and night in that anomalous space?

This was bad. His five gold rings!

“Our friend had some trouble. Sorry about that.”

Salaar shifted his body so the mustached man could see the weakened Huey and Hailey. “We’ll come right away. We won’t delay the children.”

Seeing acquaintances in poor shape, the mustached man’s anger dissipated considerably. He cleared his throat and tossed the bundle of clothes into Salaar’s arms.

“Alright then. Get yourselves ready, quick. I’m waiting downstairs.”

“Understood. Sorry to trouble you,” Salaar said, bowing his head honestly.

Myss deflated like a leaking bellows. Great. They had just saved the whole city. He had planned to sleep a long time, and now he had to keep working after an all-nighter.

What was the point of saving such a world? Better to let it be destroyed. Myss stared at the back of Salaar’s head in confusion.

“I’m not going.” Fork squeezed his wrist tight. “Did you hear me? I’m not going. I want to sleep here—”

“You’re going whether you want to or not. We got to do it together,” Myss said coldly.

“You inhuman—”

“We’re inhuman by nature.”

“… True.”

Two steps away came the echoes of Salaar stifling laughter with all his might.

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The author has something to say:

The Demon Lord still isn’t used to all-night overtime, while the hero is already an expert.

In the last chapter someone asked why not let the little snakes swap colors. I actually thought about that at first, but it seemed more fun to have the two argue with versions of themselves(?).

I feel like if they used each other’s snake, one careless moment in battle and they would probably start infighting.

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