Chapter. 15. Can a person who has seen the end of the world plant an apple tree? (26)
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Quick-!
The Rakshasha raised her head and looked at the enemy fleet as water droplets fell on her ears.
Fuuuuuuu-
.
.
.
.
“Oh my goodness.”
visible in the distance. A thick billow of sand dust and the sound of wood splitting, as if magic had exploded.
The Rakshasha had to think back on their plan for a moment as they appeared as if to prove that the contact from earlier was true.
It was a plan so simple that there was nothing to think about.
The power of the two camps is similar or one side has a slight advantage.
They each have an undisclosed history, and as always, the hidden sword is sharper than the revealed sword.
Therefore, we remain in this flagship, guarding the factors and controlling the variables.
….A reasonable and efficient plan for an operation that is simple enough for even newly enlisted recruits to understand.
however.
Why did her man, who had been running around on the ship a moment ago, suddenly go far away into the middle of enemy territory?
When I asked him why, the answer he gave was, ‘It just happened to be like that.’
‘Does the professor… have a tendency to leave his woman alone?’
The Rakshasha could not help but tilt his head at the behavior that did not make sense.
Otman approached with a look of understanding on the magical water droplets that fell on the floor and the Rakshasha’s expression.
“What will he say?”
The Rakshasha had to choose his words in response to the question of the water wizard, who seemed haggard yet strangely full of energy.
“Hmm… what on earth should I say about this…”
“Usually, my job is to explain things to others, so I guess I know roughly what it’s about. “You can just say it.”
“…They say it’s in the middle of enemy territory?”
“Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum… such a bastard. “Where are you?”
When Otman raised his finger to point at the warriors hanging on the kite, the Rakshasha shook his head and pointed below.
A little ahead of the descending warriors. Ottoman nodded as he looked at the rear of the military ship rising toward the sky among the sand dust, wondering what on earth he had done.
“indeed. “Since the professor said he was there… it’s a very credible position.”
“I guess you’re used to this?”
“sadly. People who hang out with professors have no choice but to get used to these things. “Maybe… if I don’t get used to it, I’ll die of a heart attack or fever.”
The Rakshasha, who had been laughing lightly at Otman’s joke, became slightly solemn when he realized from the empty eyes of Otman and Notum Idrasil that it was not a joke.
Even she, who had been trained in all kinds of tricks and raids while serving Wanghyeol in the desert, was surprised. When they heard that someone who was on the same boat a moment ago was stuck in enemy territory far away, these three people shook their heads, saying they knew that was the case. What kind of mess have they been through?
“Uh… did you have a hard time?”
I’m crying!
“…I pray for a holy marriage between you and the professor, Rakshasha.”
“Geuuu. “A heart as big as a desert woman’s big heart.”
“…For the first time, I realized that receiving empathy can also bring comfort.”
Even at the slightest word of comfort, the elf swallowed his saliva as if to drown out his emotions and the troll wiped away tears. The Rakshasha even had a slight thought as to whether she should reconsider Professor Jeongin’s personality.
“Well, I don’t think anything will happen. What’s going on with that friend? It always happens like that. I wonder if he should just stay still…. but he’s already gone before I know it. Breaking something. Explode something. He’s so amazing that it’s hard to tell whether he’s a saint of light or an apostle of destruction… but in the end, in hindsight, he was there when he was needed. He must be a person with a truly bizarre flow. “A person who opens a dam and creates a new flow.”
“Is it a strange… flow?”
“That’s right. “I’m not saying this because I’m a water magician, but as an old man who has seen the world for over 60 years.”
Otman continued speaking while measuring the empty space as if he was gazing at the desert in front of him and beyond the battlefield.
“Rakshasha. There is a certain flow in the world. The flames of war flow through greed and hatred, and the merchant’s steps follow the flow of gold coins. All things flow through cause and effect, and our life is just one of those flows. In this way, the world is made up of countless flows, and among them, there are torrents that small flows like us can never go against. Just like water flows from top to bottom. A river where all the currents of the world meet as one and flow powerfully. I call this just the flow, but some call it fate. Or we call it providence.”
Otman, who was given the nickname “River Wizard” at an early age and was highly anticipated by his family and the Magic Tower, set off on a trip to explore the sea the day he turned 20, following the traditions of the Reed Flow school.
And he realized. No matter how deeply you hold water in your heart, understand it, and master how to handle it. They and the world cannot escape from the axis of this gigantic flow.
The young genius wizard’s enlightenment stopped at that moment that day. Because he realized that even if he poured his whole life into it, he would never be able to realize the whole thing as a small flow in a huge torrent. Fifth-rank wizard Ottoman Baudelaire had no doubt that from that day on, he would remain a fifth-rank wizard forever.
Until he met someone in his later years.
“He’s a reflux.”
Otman felt that the heroic work of the Light Church, which he had volunteered to do to restore the school’s honor, had deviated from the flow given to him. He was a large and talkative warrior, and at the same time, he was also a water magician. A human figure like a calm pond with a strong, unpredictable flow.
“It is a cold current that penetrates a warm current and a waterway that goes up against the river. It is a rough flow that breaks the frozen river and creates a new waterway. Therefore, the position he is in is always the position where he is needed the most. “Because you are the center of a flow.”
While I was in the Empire, I received letters from disciples of the Reed Flow School. The news is that the reputation of the Magic Tower has already been restored to an overflowing level, and that the Church of Gwangmyeong is helping to restore the Magic Tower as a reward for the heroic deeds. A letter requesting that Otman return after completing his dangerous journey, as the help of a high-ranking wizard is desperately needed for the construction of the Magic Tower.
Otman smiled happily at the letters he received from his students after a long time and then let them flow down the stream he was passing by.
Before I knew it, I had joined that strong flow.
It just flows. The sight of this person moving forward like that, creating a new tributary in the unstoppable flow of the world, is so bold that it makes my heart tremble.
Ottman, who was thinking of the most unpredictable friend and student of his life with such a happy face, stood up as he felt clumps of moisture rapidly approaching his sensory area.
Having already entered the battlefield, he had gathered all the water within his capabilities.
While Rakshasha and the rest of the party, who instinctively felt the air in the cabin sinking heavily, prepared for battle, Otman made a hand sign, carefully applying magical power to each word of his finger.
“so. “He went to his place, so we just have to do what we have to do in our place.”
I rode the rapids that open a new path. Why should I complain when my current breaks on the reef and rolls around in muddy water?
Thump, thud, thud, thump,
thud, thud!
The creature that approached in an instant finally poked its head out through the sand, and from its mouth that opened like a trumpet, creatures large and small began pouring down onto Nulak’s flagship.
“monster! “It’s a monster attack!”
“To the close combat position! “The enemy lands on deck!!!”
The crew, accustomed to the surprise attacks of desert creatures, did not panic and prepared for battle. What they faced was not a wild monster, but another race. They were the elite of the Mutation Bloods, rushing into battle not as predators but as sapient beings.
At least level 4. On the Roderick battlefield, from high-ranking mutes who are used as commanders of lower-level entities to the highest-ranking mutes of level 3 and 2 who are conceived and produced directly rather than through the artificial womb of a chamber maid.
Although they are not named, they are all combat specialists who think as sapient beings and are equipped with a non-spherical mute ‘Handler’ that self-repairs the outer shell boasting strength greater than that of metal in order to function solely as a weapon.
Suddenly!
Crack!
Their power was proven by the thick scent of blood that rose within seconds of encountering them.
An attack by the strongest entities in the Mutation Blood, excluding the Named and the Queen’s escort.
And….
my heart pounded.
Exciting-!
“Hmm… this feeling.”
“Geuuu. Those guys back then. “They are scary people.”
A presence that cannot be compared to the preceding mutes that followed.
Otman, who had learned from experience that small spells could not even scratch their skin, gave up calculating the number of enemies and the amount of mana remaining.
“Rakshasha Notum. “I need cover.”
As a 5th rank wizard, this is the most powerful spell he knows.
Something a little stronger than that.
“He’s the head of the academic department. After all, a teacher must learn something from his or her student’s growth.”
….Wow!
Pain of crushing the tip of the thumb. His blood-soaked hands make a seal and his magic pours out generously into the collected water.
In an instinctive sense, after seeing a professor use magic through blood, he interpreted it in his own way and applied it to water-based magic.
Even though the flowing wizard’s blood soaked into the water, it began to re-establish its own flow in the water, as if it remembered the path it originally flowed. An artery in a floating sphere of water. Capillaries. All those flows are reestablished.
Above the hand of the wizard who made the hand sign, another wizard’s hand made of water and blood appeared.
“Otman Baudelaire’s [The Wizard Reaching Out].”
Suddenly, suddenly, suddenly.
The joints of the fingers made of flesh and blood are broken, weaving a spell according to the promised meaning.
The wizard’s hands, made of water and blood, form another seal according to the wizard’s will and weave the spell.
Multiple chanting. A skill that is considered possible only if you reach at least the end of the 6th rank. The understanding created by oneself goes beyond the realm of thought and reaches the unconscious to create two spells. It is the exclusive domain of the highest-ranking magician who can only overcome the two mental images by completely separating them.
After much effort and research to pioneer his realm that had solidified after the shock of his youth, Otman succeeded in stealing a technique that briefly surpassed his realm through auxiliary techniques.
Due to lack of enlightenment, they cannot perform spells that go beyond the 5th level, but for water wizards who express spells by weaving abbreviations through hand signs, more fingers mean more complex abbreviations, allowing them to cast a much wider and more detailed range of spells. It was an extension of the spell that was given.
Otman planned to use this to summon two huge backwater waterfalls and protect the ship with Nulak’s magic.
『Shooaaaa-』
Until the magical sound of waves was heard in his ears like a fantasy.
‘Again…is this a mental image?’
Since an image can only be expressed as magic if it has clarity that is close to reality, a magician who weaves spells must always be careful of distracting thoughts.
The thing that dissipated the magic in Otman’s hand was something of that kind. It was a memory of the moment he encountered the sea that had confined him within the walls of the Fifth Plane for his entire life. His sea always appears in different forms and disappears leaving behind similar emotions.
‘Why, at a moment like this!’
As I came out of the wizard’s thoughts, I could clearly hear the sound of blood and metal splashing. The sound of an elf’s bowstring being pulled. An angry roar as the troll shaman’s vines are torn apart and gooey blood erupts.
The enemy’s violence is coming like a tidal wave, and the images we worked so hard to build up have long since dispersed like dust.
There is an absurd lack of time to build new images and weave them into spells.
‘…If we don’t do it anyway, we’ll all die!’
Ttuduk!
Instead of an image that Otman had created himself, he had a very vivid thought. I began to capture the sound of waves rippling like a mirage with my fingertips.
It was a crazy thing that anyone who knew anything about magic would never do.
The act of capturing a fleeting thought that was not created by oneself and trying to portray it in the world.
It is unknown what form it will take, and it is unknown whether it will be completed within the wizard’s capabilities.
If the image is created outside of the wizard’s understanding, the wizard’s understanding that holds it will crumble into logical gap and the wizard’s life will disappear along with the realization that it collapses.
Even if the image is fortunately made up of elements within enlightenment, if the magic is outside the magic’s capabilities, it will suck up all of the magician’s magic and even his or her life force during the process of completion, and then the incomplete spell will explode.
Weaving images that we could not create ourselves into spells is such an act. An act bordering on an irresponsible crime that goes beyond the self-destruction of the individual wizard and causes damage to those around him.
However, the more he captured the blurry images and weaved them into spells, the more Otman felt a strange confidence that even he could not understand.
‘Someone is helping me.’
It is not just a random thought that comes up like a stab, but an image that blooms softly as if someone was holding his hand and drawing it.
In fact, after arriving in this desert, Otman was immersed in a strange dream-like image.
A cabin where everyone sleeps. Or when I suddenly felt that the surroundings had become quiet while caring for Idrasil and Notum, who had collapsed from motion sickness.
The image came to Otman like a dream, a mirage.
The faint image gradually became clearer as I crossed the sand sea, passed the oasis, and captured the stars and secrets of the desert.
The first thing I felt was longing. There is only an unfamiliar longing that neither the object nor the speaker can find.
It’s the gaze of something. From bottom to top. Looking at a cluster of lights breaking brightly in a dark place. Or the gaze that puts the whole thing in front of your eyes.
After the sand shark attack, a sand shark swam into the image.
On the day we arrived at the oasis, various kinds of grass and trees grew inside it.
and. After sharing the legend of the ancient desert kingdom and the story of the dragon in secret at the watchtower with the professor who came out in a huff.
Above all of this, a great being appeared, swimming in the blue world and contemplating the world.
The completed image was conveying it to Ottman.
longing. Memories of a once green day and memories of its last moments.
The appearance of a great being flying towards the distorted sun.
“Yeah… that’s what it was.”
The form of a spell that even you are not sure about is revealed. An image that only revealed its true identity at the last moment. Ottman, who confirmed the image someone had drawn with his own hands, could not help but be amazed at its identity.
‘Water changes endlessly, but it never disappears and circulates forever. One drop of water. Even a single cloud was part of the primordial world.’
It was a memory, not an image.
A memory given to the being of water who returned to this place that was endlessly drying up after an ancient disaster.
A smile of admiration appeared on Otman’s mouth as he faced the ‘memory of the desert’.
It was a deal between a wizard and the desert. Handing over the memories they have kept, the wizard once again depicts to the world the scene that the dry earth had long dreamed of.
Before it was once called a desert. A memory of the last time I saw the land beneath the sea, which had infinite life upon it.
Since there is no enlightenment, it cannot be classified into classes. Since the subject of the spell is something embedded in a natural object, it is not even magic. It’s just a type of natural phenomenon brought on by a wizard.
This is the last scene captured on the water of this land that was once a sea. Memories of great beings soaring with wings spread, burning in the heat of the distorted sun.
“Boundless. Dreaming of the desert again. [Waterspout]”
At the same time, the hand that made the seal was released and the wizard’s spell, along with the magic contained in it, landed in the desert.
『Kwauuuuuu-!!!』
Two giant water columns roaring and swirling broke through the desert sand and rose toward the sky.
Rattling rattling!
The brave warriors of the desert were trying their best not to drop the weapons they valued more than their lives.
dump. Slurp flop!
The shamans who understood the desert and wielded its power collapsed and some even fainted due to the tremendous phenomenon beyond their understanding.
The Rakshasha turned his head to the only person with a satisfied face amidst this dramatic change.
An old wizard collapsed, out of breath.
“No way… you?”
“It’s not that great… It’s grand, but in the end its power doesn’t exceed the 5th rank.”
Although it borrowed the help of other beings, the composition was ultimately a 5th level spell.
Moreover, since Otman does not have the enlightenment necessary for attack spells, it probably does not have the same power as it appears. At best, you can just rip off all the mutes that are stuck to the ship, wrap them around, and throw them away.
However, the target involved in the spell was the desert itself. As long as the power that maintains the spell is not his mana but the desert, those two waterspouts will continue to surround Mute without fading.
As long as Otman, the spell caster, does not lose his mind.
Otman laughed helplessly as he watched the waterspout, which seemed to pierce the sky, turn around and pour down towards Mute like a waterfall.
‘It’s a coincidence. A water magician who came to the desert and the desert that was once the sea… It must mean that I am also flowing to where I should be.’
Time for the warriors who had been pushed back by the enemy’s surprise attack to catch their breath. The shamans had time to build up proper spells rather than hastily created spells.
More than anything, it was important that the most mutes stuck together and bought time for Nulak, who was in crisis.
Flash!
Otman chewed the flesh on his cheek and drew blood as he saw red lightning flashing through his blurred vision as Nulak’s spell and Mute’s four-armed halberd met each other.
Suddenly,
my consciousness, which had been fading with exhilarating pain, seemed to return a little.
‘Just a little more like this…’
The power is overwhelming. The moment either Nulak or his spell collapses, it will collapse like a sand castle swept by the waves and be defeated.
‘I hope that friend is on time…’
In his hazy consciousness, Otman could only hope that the professor who jumped into the arms of the enemy would destroy the enemy before they did.
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