Chapter 23: A Mother’s Gift

I didn’t try to lock her mana. Trying to overpower an elemental spirit by blocking its mana flow was suicide for someone in my current physical state. I forced my Locksmith’s Eye into a deeper layer of perception.

I tried to connect my mana thread to hers.

Open.

Close.

The mana threads successfully linked to each other. I forced them to weave through her ice-cold wrist, piercing directly into her distorted mana pathways.

BOOM.

In an instant, the real world was gone.

We were standing on a vast plain of white ice under a frozen sky. The clouds were not moving, even though the sunlight shone warmly. Millions of glowing white mana threads hung down from the heavens like puppet strings. All of them were tangled around a massive, formless specter made of frost.

Arielle was standing at the center of the ice, wrapped in glowing mana threads while crying silently with her hands over her face.

"Arielle!" I called out, my voice echoing through the endless plain of ice.

She faltered, looking up through her tears. "Silvester? Why... why are you here? Go away! It’s going to freeze you, too!"

"Shut the hell up for a second and listen to me!" I walked toward her quickly. "Look around you! Look at what your magic is doing."

"I can’t control it!" she screamed. "Every time I try to remember my mother, this thing wakes up! It killed people, and now it’s going to kill you! I am a monster, Silvester! My father lies, pretending that everyday is fine, but I know that I killed everyone!"

I stopped right in front of her. Without hesitation, I reached out and pinched her reddish cheeks.

"Ouch!" Arielle gasped, holding her cheeks, her eyes wide with absolute shock. "Did you... did you just pinch my precious cheeks?!"

"Yeah, I did," I said casually, crossing my arms. "You are not a monster. You’re just an idiot kid who doesn’t know how to handle a powerful tool. You think you’re fighting the spirit? You’re not fighting it at all. You’re feeding it with fear!"

"You’re talking like an old man, and I am not—"

"Look at the chest’s lock." I pointed back to the massive white sphere floating and tangled with mana threads at the center of the plain. "Arielle, that lock isn’t an enemy barrier. It’s your mother’s final gift. She built it so that you could open it when you were ready!"

She stared at the sphere as her lips trembled. "My... my mother’s gift?"

"The ice spirit is trying to open it with raw mana and letting your emotions fuel its attack," I explained, my tone shifting from harsh to absolute precision. "Look closely at the sphere. Do you see those white nodes spinning around it?"

Arielle blinked and looked at the terrifying specter. Slowly, her blue eyes focused on the structure. "I can see them. Five glowing dots."

"Those are the tumblers," I said, stepping behind her right shoulder. "Your mother left a Level 5 mana key inside you. The spirit doesn’t have the key, but you do. Unfortunately, you’re trying to turn all five tumblers at once, and it’s jamming the seal."

"What... what should I do?" she whispered with a hint of hope.

"Just don’t turn them with strength. Feel the beat of your heart and match the rhythm of your mana to the first node. Smoothly... like mineral oil flowing into a keyhole."

Arielle took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

First node.

A soft white pulse radiated from Arielle’s hands.

CLICK.

The first layer of tangled mana threads wrapped around the white sphere dissolved into sparkling crushed ice.

"It... it worked!"

"Stay focused, kid!" I warned as the mana thread between us began to unravel. The strain was rapidly draining my strength. "Proceed to the second node! It’s slightly faster than the first."

She nodded sharply.

Arielle extended her senses, her innate genius as a noble mage taking over the fear inside her. She adjusted the vibration of her mana thread, matching the hum of the second node.

Second node...

CLICK.

Another layer of ice shattered. The ice spirit above us let out an angry roar as its control over her body began to break apart.

"Third node! Pull your mana instead of pushing." Arielle nodded and followed my instructions.

"I got this!" Arielle shouted back. She pulled her mana thread in a sweeping motion to catch the third tumbler right at its peak.

CLICK.

"Fourth node, Arielle! Synchronize with my thread on three! One... two... THREE!"

CLICK.

The entire ice plain began to collapse as warm golden light poured out through the cracked ice floor.

"Listen, Arielle!" My voice echoed like thunder. "The last tumbler! Give it everything you’ve got, but keep it pure! Show this damn chest who her daughter really is!"

She let out a breathless cry. A brilliant, blinding burst of pure white mana erupted from her body. It was a crystal-clear light that engulfed the fifth node.

CLICK!

BOOOM!

The space shattered like fragile glass.

In the real world, the violent ice storm instantly vanished.

The floating wooden furniture slammed against the floorboards. The wind died in an instant, replaced by a warm mist that smelled like summer rain and lavender.

Arielle’s feet touched the floor, and her knees immediately gave out.

I caught her before she hit the ground and wrapped my arm around her shoulders. She was pale and breathing heavily, but her eyes had returned to a beautiful cold blue.

"We... did it?" she rasped, looking up at me with exhausted eyes.

"Yeah. Good job, ice girl," I gasped, wiping frost and sweat from my forehead. "We did it. You almost got us both turned into popsicles."

My eyes focused on the faint blue glow on her chest. It was a blue magic circle, a seal that kept the ice spirit asleep. The circles moved clockwise and counterclockwise like a rotating mechanical lock. The movement stopped and the glow disappeared, confirming that the spirit was completely sealed again.

My eyes went back to Arielle, who was glaring at me. She didn’t call me a fraud or threaten to bury me in the garden. She simply rested her head against my chest and let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank you... Silvester," she whispered, her eyelids closing as she fell into a deep sleep.

I gently laid her down against the pile of cushions and made sure she was comfortable before turning my attention toward the table.

The ice chest was open.

The ice crystals that had encased it for years melted away, leaving behind a box made of polished white wood with golden lining.

I approached the chest with caution. My Locksmith’s Eye was still active, scanning the chest for traps. Inside, an item rested on a dark velvet cushion.

It was an ice sword—a high-grade artifact capable of amplifying ice attacks specifically for sword mages. I’ve seen it in ancient books. It was a lost artifact for centuries, never used by any ice mages of the kingdom, or even Silvia herself.

Before my fingers could make contact with the sword, the warm air inside the room became suffocating.

A terrifying mana pressure descended upon the supply room. It felt like a mountain had suddenly dropped onto my shoulders, making it hard to breathe and forcing my knees to the floorboards.

A tall shadow stretched across the broken wooden doorway.

I turned my head. Standing at the threshold was Lord Sebastian Voulstridge.

He wasn’t wearing his usual smiling expression. His hands were tucked deeply into his pockets. His blue eyes were entirely devoid of warmth, filled with an intensity that made my blood run dead cold.

’Fuck! I am gonna die!’ my inner thoughts panicked.

"Remarkable," Lord Voulstridge said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "The chest actually opened. And without breaking the weapon."

He took a slow step, his high-quality boots crunching over the shattered ice fragments on the floor. His eyes didn’t stray toward his unconscious daughter resting on the cushion for even a second.

His glare was locked on the ice sword inside the box.

"My Lord..." I managed to speak despite the heavy aura pressing down on me. "Lady Arielle is fine. She was just exhausted from—"

"I know she’s fine, Silvester." His face was unreadable.

He extended his hand toward the open chest.

"Now, Silvester..." he murmured, his voice carrying a chilling authority that left no room for negotiation. "Be a good boy. Do not touch that sword, and step away from the box... before things get worse."