Chapter 143 - 142: Blasphemy

Chapter 143: Chapter 142: Blasphemy

Hesia picked up on the awkwardness. He didn’t press the issue, instead joking in a lighthearted tone, "Perhaps my metaphor was a poor choice. After all, sunlight probably isn’t very friendly to you. You’ll need some time to get used to it."

Trist kept his head down. "Yes, I do... I need some time."

Hesia got up to leave.

"I’ll bring you food every few days, but I can’t guarantee I’ll have goblins. Can I bring some other kind of meat instead?"

Trist’s head remained bowed. "They have to be live goblins."

Hesia was a little surprised by his insistence. Thinking of the gourmand’s peculiar tastes, he had no choice but to nod helplessly.

"Fine. I’ll figure something out."

As the sound of Hesia’s footsteps faded away into the cave, Trist’s head sank even lower. His long, silvery-white hair cascaded down, almost completely obscuring his face.

The flames in the fireplace leaped and stretched erratically. On the floor, Trist’s shadow elongated and twisted along with them, like a struggling living thing.

A closer look revealed that the shadow’s edges weren’t smooth. They writhed, occasionally sprouting tentacle-like tendrils of darkness that would quickly retract back into the main form.

In the air, a faint, almost imperceptible humming sound joined the CRACKLE of the burning firewood.

Trist slowly began to speak, his voice dry and strained, as if addressing an unseen listener.

"No... not him."

He murmured, as if trying to justify himself, or perhaps to resist.

"He’s... different. He showed me kindness."

The humming in the cave seemed to intensify for a moment.

Trist’s body trembled slightly, and his fingers, resting on his knees, clenched subconsciously.

The grotesque shadow on the floor suddenly recoiled, like a predator coiling to strike.

The shadow’s outline was no longer simply humanoid; where the head should have been, an irregular shape began to vaguely form.

"I understand the pact. I’ve never forgotten." A pained, pleading tone crept into Trist’s voice. "But the rules of ’feeding’... it shouldn’t be about indiscriminate consumption. His soul... it’s so ’bright.’ Just like... just like that word he used..."

He raised his head and gazed in the direction Hesia had gone, as if savoring a memory.

"...Sunlight."

The instant he uttered the word, the whispers and humming throughout the cave abruptly crescendoed into a piercing shriek!

The shadow on the floor thrashed wildly, its pitch-black tendrils lashing out at the furniture.

"Blasphemy!!"

An ancient voice erupted from deep within Trist’s throat, overlapping with his own.

Trist clutched his throat with one hand and shoved the other into his mouth, as if trying to forcibly wrench some foreign entity from his body.

After its frenzied throes, the shadow on the floor gradually grew still.

The humming subsided, and the cave fell silent once more, leaving only the sound of Trist’s ragged gasps.

After a long moment, he slowly let go, looking down at the outline of his shadow—elongated, but more or less normal now.

’Goblins... A goblin’s soul might be foul, but... they’re intelligent creatures, aren’t they?’

’...A large enough number should be enough to satisfy Its appetite. For now.’

...

「Back at the Wand Shop」

After returning to the Wand Shop from the "Underground Luxury Suite," Hesia suddenly recalled how Fevik’s voice had sounded directly in his mind when she had summoned him to the shop earlier.

’If Bruce is in Stealth, wouldn’t this be a really convenient way to communicate with him at any time?’

Hesia thought it would be the perfect tool for stealth missions.

He shared this thought with Fevik, who was hunched over a table, studying an unfamiliar Gemstone Wand Tip.

"The Communication Skill?" Fevik didn’t even look up. "That’s easy. I’ll teach you."

In just a few words, she explained the fundamentals of the Spellcasting and the Spell’s structure to Hesia, then added, "Its range and clarity are tied to your Wisdom Attribute. And remember, this Magic will continuously drain your Magic Power, so don’t get carried away chatting."

Hesia focused, committing it to memory and attempting to construct the Magic model in his mind.

A prompt quickly appeared in his mind:

[Skill Learned: Communication Skill]

"It worked!"

Yet no sooner had he gotten excited, already planning how he’d show off to Bruce, than Fevik tossed out an even more enticing idea.

"Oh, right. I think there’s another Magic you might like. What was it called... ’Eye of Sharing’? It’s supposed to let you temporarily borrow your target’s vision."

"Something that good exists?!" Hesia’s eyes lit up. He scrambled closer. "Teacher! Teach me! Please!"

"I don’t know it, either," Fevik said, her expression clearly saying, ’Something that basic isn’t worth my time.’ "It’s a restricted Magic. You can only learn it from a Skill Scroll."

"However..." Her tone shifted, and a smug look crossed her face. "A place like Fernandez is bound to have a way to get one. Seeing as you’re begging so nicely, I suppose I can do you the favor of buying one for you."

As she spoke, she very naturally extended her small, furry hand, palm up.

Hesia got the message. He assumed it was some kind of teacher-student high-five agreement and immediately slapped his own palm forward enthusiastically.

SLAP!

The crisp sound of their palms meeting echoed through the shop.

"Thanks, Teacher! You’re the best!"

Fevik snatched her hand back, annoyed. "Who was asking for a high-five? Do you think you can buy things without money?"

"Er..." Hesia’s smile froze on his face. "H-how much?"

"How am I supposed to know the exact price?" Fevik said, full of confidence. "Just give me 100 Golden Shields to start. I’ll give you back the change if there’s any left, or you can pay me the difference."

"One hundred Golden Shields?!" Hesia nearly jumped. "Teacher, do I look like I’m carrying 100 Golden Shields on me anywhere?"

Fevik seemed to have only just remembered her apprentice’s financial situation. She muttered under her breath, "Oh, right. I forgot you were the poor sap who showed up to buy a Magic Wand with just eight Golden Shields."

Hesia sighed and pulled out his Money Bag, counting out twenty Golden Shields and handing them over. "This is all I have. If it’s really too expensive... then just forget it."

Fevik took the money, weighed it in her hand, and sighed. "Fine. If the difference isn’t too much, I’ll spot you the rest. But—" she stressed, "you have to pay me back! Your teacher doesn’t have..."

She trailed off, her gaze suddenly becoming distant.

But Hesia immediately understood. ’My teacher... is probably broke, too.’

His gaze drifted unconsciously to the grease-stained paper bag from Martin’s Bakery on the table.

’No wonder she eats bread every day, even though she clearly loves pastries so much.’

Fevik noticed Hesia’s gaze, and the flicker of sudden understanding in his eyes.

The tips of her ears twitched almost imperceptibly. As if afraid her apprentice would see her slightly flushed cheeks, she quickly turned her head away.

"What are you looking at! I’m conducting important ’Taste Magic Resistance’ training!"

"Magic research requires one to maintain keen taste buds! The occasional intake of high-purity sugars is for stimulating my Magic Power perception!"

...

...

...

After rattling off a dozen more reasons, Fevik finally turned her head back.

"Where’d he go?"