The Problematic Child of the Magic Tower
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
Chapter 312: Companion (1)
Fran blinked a few times, organizing his thoughts.
‘For now... that’s a relief.’
He didn’t know whose voice it was yet, but the owner of the voice had said he wasn’t dead.
Perhaps because of the deep sense of relief that brought, curiosity reared its head a moment later.
‘But... this is the Spirit Realm?’
If he hadn’t seen spirits wherever he looked, he never would have believed it.
After all, back when he attended the Academy, he had taken a lecture called Mysteries of the Continent.
‘The professor said that spirits are closer to concepts or phenomena than to material beings.’
He also remembered the explanation that followed.
Naturally, the Spirit Realm where they resided was supposed to be a void—an empty space not composed of matter.
“......”
In the end, it seemed the professor had been wrong.
The grass of the meadow he was sitting on was fresh and damp with moisture, and the waterfall cascading in the distance roared thunderously.
–You must be very surprised.
“Ah.”
At the woman’s voice ringing in his ear, Fran remembered that he had been in the middle of a conversation.
Since he couldn’t see the other party, he had momentarily forgotten.
He stood up awkwardly.
“Where are you...?”
–I’m right in front of you.
But there was nothing visible ahead.
And yet, the voice was far too composed to be a joke.
–Hmm, I see. It seems you can’t see my form yet.
“...A ghost?”
–Not a ghost. A spirit.
A gentle breeze swept through his hair.
–My name is Silaphrion of Tranquility. Have you ever heard my name before?
“S-sorry, but this is really the first time I’ve heard it...”
–Hehe. That’s fine. Humans tend to call me the Spirit King of Wind.
Fran’s eyes widened.
The Spirit King of Wind—meaning the sovereign of all winds.
As a mage who wielded wind, he immediately bent at the waist.
“Ah, it’s an honor...?”
–Just as the wind splits into countless currents, we merely share the same origin while walking different paths. There’s no need to be overly polite to me. At least, not yet.
“.......”
That last word felt a little uncomfortable, but for now...
Fran slowly raised his head and asked,
“Um, then is the reason I can’t see your form because my affinity with spirits is lacking?”
–You’re perceptive. That’s right. Fortunately, you can at least hear my voice.
Silaphrion let out a soft laugh.
–Thanks to that, I can convey my gratitude. Thank you.
“No, it’s not like I did anything...”
That wasn’t humility—it was the truth.
He couldn’t recall doing anything worthy of thanks from the Spirit King of Wind.
–You’re the one who saved the World Tree, aren’t you? This is my thanks for that.
“Oh, was the World Tree perhaps a tree you were raising, Lady Silaphrion?”
–...Me, raising the World Tree? Pfft! No. Mother Tree is not that kind of existence.
Her voice brimmed with laughter, as if she’d heard something truly amusing.
–Mother Tree is a gate that connects the Spirit Realm and the Middle Realm. If the World Tree isn’t healthy, we can’t act in the Middle Realm at all. That’s why it’s such a special existence.
“I see.”
Now he understood why the elves revered the World Tree like a god and cherished it so dearly.
Their power came from spirits, and without the World Tree, they couldn’t meet those spirits.
Even the Spirit Kings themselves respected it.
To elves, both beings must feel like impossibly distant superiors.
“Is the World Tree doing a bit better now? I passed out in the middle of things, so...”
–Thanks to you, it’s healing rapidly.
“That’s a relief. Really.”
A sense of pride and exhilaration washed over him, and his fist clenched on its own.
At the same time, Fran thought of Oscar and spoke up.
“Ah, um... has my companion been told that I’m okay?”
–I’m sorry. That’s not possible right now.
“...Oh.”
Oscar was the type to be quietly affectionate—he was probably terribly worried right now. Fran glanced around the Spirit Realm once more and nodded.
“Then... could I return now? I think my companion must be worried.”
Being the first human to ever come to the Spirit Realm was certainly amazing, but the longer he stayed, the more Oscar weighed on his mind.
–I’m afraid that’s not possible right now.
“...What?”
At the thunderbolt of an answer, Fran’s words rushed out.
“W-why not? Why can’t I go back?”
–To accelerate the World Tree’s healing as much as possible, even its connection to the Middle Realm has been severed.
“Then... that means it’ll take some time?”
–By human standards, about a day should be enough.
“A day?”
Fran’s expression brightened.
If it was only that long, then it wasn’t too bad.
He felt sorry for Oscar, who would surely be anxious, but honestly, he kind of wanted to sightsee the Spirit Realm too.
After all, no human in history had ever been here.
‘And there’s no guarantee anyone else ever will.’
If he saw and heard as much as possible here, then went back and wrote a book about it, it’d be a massive hit.
A title like 24 Hours in the Spirit Realm sounded decent enough.
As Fran drifted into happy fantasies, Silaphrion spoke carefully.
–As I said, by human standards... it’s a day.
“Right? Yes.”
Fran nodded casually.
“That’s fine. I’m human too.”
–But... the standards of time used by humans don’t apply to the place we’re in.
“...?”
Only then did a creeping sense of unease crawl up his spine.
When someone stalls this much before getting to the point, it usually means they’re trying to soften the shock of what comes next.
“Then... one day in the Middle Realm is how long here?”
–Thir...
“Thir? Three days?”
–Hund...
“A hundred? Three hundred hours? Wait, that’s around twelve days?”
–Ninety...
“...What?”
Why do more things keep getting added?
Fran’s eyes darted around.
Three hundred ninety.
The numbers so far sounded ominous.
But at this point, the unit mattered more than the number.
‘Time. Time. Please let it be time.’
When the word “years” flashed through his mind, cold sweat ran down his back.
If he had to spend 390 years here, he’d die without ever seeing his family again.
Even “months” would be bad—390 months was over 32 years.
–Days.
“Uh... ah?”
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
That was why such an ambiguous sound slipped from his mouth.
It wasn’t the worst or second-worst outcome he’d imagined, but it certainly wasn’t good.
“Did you just say... 390 days?”
–Yes. But don’t worry. No aging will occur in the Spirit Realm.
“I don’t think that’s the main issue here...”
A year had 365 days.
Which meant he’d have to live here for over a year.
‘...Or is this actually a good thing?’
Hadn’t he once seriously considered training inside Oscar’s subspace and coming out stronger?
It wasn’t by choice this time, but in terms of circumstances, it wasn’t all that different.
As Fran’s eyes began to lose focus, Silaphrion hurriedly spoke.
–As far as I know, you visited the Elven Forest to build spirit affinity. Is that correct?
“That’s true, but...”
–Then you’ve come to the right place. This is far more efficient than anywhere like that.
“Ah... well.”
The human heart is a strange thing.
When you decide to study on your own, you do great—but the moment your mom nags you about it, you suddenly don’t want to anymore.
Training is the same.
You do well when you want to, but when you’re forced, you don’t.
That was exactly how Fran felt right now.
“Hmm...”
Of course, he couldn’t show that in front of a Spirit King.
Forcing a smile, he listened as Silaphrion spoke cheerfully.
–Don’t worry about meals. The spirits will bring you delicious fruit.
“Fruit... fruit is good.”
–There are plenty of fresh vegetables too, so it’ll be healthy.
“J-just to ask... there’s no meat, right?”
–Meat? There are no living creatures in the Spirit Realm besides you.
“......”
Of course.
Forced to live as a vegetarian for over a year, Fran’s eyes turned sorrowful.
After Fran went missing, a festival was held in the elven village.
“The World Tree is recovering!”
“Look! It hasn’t even been a few hours, and new leaves are already sprouting.”
“It’s a bit inconvenient not being able to commune with spirits, but as long as Mother Tree is healthy...”
To them, the World Tree’s health was directly tied to the fate of their species.
Naturally, the removal of what had been gnawing at it was cause for celebration.
“...Nice.”
From an external terrace high up in a tree, Oscar gazed down at the village and smiled softly.
Whether human or elf, regardless of race, people being happy was always a pleasant sight.
Was this what the streets of Sirin had felt like when the end of the war was declared?
“......”
After staring down at the village for some time, he heard someone approach.
“Thank you.”
It was Evelyn Arsia, ruler of the Elven Kingdom.
She handed him a goblet of wine and continued,
“Today, the two of you saved tens of thousands of elves.”
“We were just lucky.”
It wasn’t humility or empty words.
They hadn’t come here for the elves to begin with.
They’d simply possessed the power that happened to be needed in a city they visited for their own growth.
“......”
That was what bothered Oscar.
Coming here had been his choice, but looking only at the outcome, it felt as though he’d been guided by fate.
“By the way, earlier your friend seemed to call you Oscar... Is that your name?”
“Pfft!”
Startled, Oscar nearly spat out the wine he was drinking.
He hadn’t done anything wrong yet, but he felt oddly guilty.
Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he replied,
“Yes. I’m Oscar Crucian, a Level 7 mage of the White Tower.”
“......”
After a brief look at him, Evelyn asked,
“Were you named after the previous White Tower Master?”
“I’m not sure, but probably.”
“...It’s a good name. Do you know the meaning behind it?”
The meaning of his name?
Oscar hesitated, and she continued naturally,
“It’s ancient Elvish. It means ‘Spear of God.’”
He hadn’t known his name was Elvish, nor that it carried such a meaning.
“There are various interpretations. Some see it as ‘God’s tool,’ others as ‘a power that can kill even a god.’”
Tilting her head, Evelyn looked at him playfully.
“They say a person’s fate follows their name. What about you? Incidentally, the previous White Tower Master who shared your name killed the Demon Emperor who dared to blaspheme even the gods.”
“......”
“You don’t seem very surprised?”
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
“Have you heard this story before?”
Startled, Oscar hurriedly shook his head, hiding his reaction.
“This is my first time hearing it.”
“You lie in the strangest places. How odd.”
He’d let his guard down because it was a familiar face, but as the ruler of a nation, her perception was terrifyingly sharp.
Oscar immediately raised her danger level to about that of the Emperor.
“Oscar Crucian.”
At being called by name, he looked at her with as neutral an expression as possible.
At the same time, his gaze met golden eyes that seemed to pierce straight through his soul.
“Have we met before?”
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]

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