Chapter. 22. Last Parade (7)
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Quaaaaa-
“….”
Quaaaaaaa-
“….”
Quaaaaaaa-!!
“Hey.”
Sometimes, no matter how good your eyesight is, there are things you need to get closer to check. For example-
“It looks real.”
These are the kinds of things you cannot believe even when you see them.
What is in front of me now is a waterfall. The sound of rushing water, the spray spreading like fog, the unique wind of the valley, etc…
Quaaaaa!
Paralarak!
The difference is that everything pouring out in front of you is paper.
What was pouring majestically, so much so that it was said to be Niagara Falls, was a group of letters, and the mysteriously rising water mist was paper dust created by worn-out letters, and the wind was… a natural phenomenon that occurs when an object of that size moves in one direction. It was like that.
-widely!
While absent-mindedly looking at the magnificent world made up of letters, I snatched up a letter that flew in front of me.
=========
Dear Eumma, who has come to the capital,
Eumma Janey is sick.
Mani hurts. I’m sick and hungry.
My dad hasn’t come home since three nights ago.
Come to me. I’m glad to see it.
=========
A crude letter that looks like it was written by a child. If you’re familiar with the story, it’s a typical rural farm tragedy.
It was a heartbreaking story in its own way, but what caught my eye was not the content of the old letter.
“There is no recipient’s name.”
A letter with all the spelling mistakes and even just writing ‘Eumma’ without a single word of your name. There is no doubt that it is an unsent letter.
Palak! Fall, fall!
“Let’s see. This and this too, um. This looks fine…. an assassination order? “Oh, it’s a pseudonym?”
In addition to this, there were problems with completing the letter magic, such as tears falling on the recipient’s name and smearing the ink, or traces of the middle name having been rewritten several times.
“Then you are really saying that this is the sub-space of the ‘unsent letters’ that I saw at Felix Home back then.”
It means I’ve come to the right place and this majestic-
“Cough! Oh, what kind of dust…”
Well, it means that the place that is somewhat fatal to the bronchi is the same place as the subspace for ‘unsent letters’ created by Felix Holm back in the day.
“hmm. “This isn’t just an increase in space.”
Even if you take a quick look around, the atmosphere is quite different from the miserable child labor scene where little Astrad was confined in the past.
First of all, it is wide. Even with my eyesight, which has become mute and has improved to that of a bird of prey, the space is so vast that I cannot see the end.
Kwahaha Ah-
Palak Palak Palak Palak!
And every inch of that large space is filled with letters. Letters were pouring all over the walls and ceiling, and the waterfall of letters in front of me was lined up like a pillar connecting heaven and earth, and the letters that poured in were constantly flowing like quicksand, heading toward the horizon made of letters.
What can I call this structure… a fish tank? Fountain?
“Let’s see, that letter was sent but not received, so I still want to find its owner…desire? design? Because there are still some? Are you continuing to cycle like that? Circulation is stability, and stability is a symbol of sound maintenance…. Yikes!”
Shit. Even if you try to figure it out, you should be able to figure it out.
Professor Park was well versed in magic, but I was not. Magic is a realm of the senses, so just by stealing his memories, I can’t even guess how high-level magic of this level works.
At most, we can only glimpse the external structure of circulation, such as letters pouring from the waterfall flowing down the floor toward the wall, and letters traveling up the wall pouring again through the letter waterfall connected to the ceiling.
I don’t know why the letter is being sent that way, but I do know one thing.
“It means that this amount of small magic in each unsent letter must be gathered to break the Archmage’s last spell.”
I knew that Last Spell was great.
In Wuthering Heights, the dying Gauman briefly transformed a 3rd rank kid into a 7th rank archmage, and Felix Home created a communications revolution in this medieval fantasy world, turning the kingdom of Baltin into a fearsome empire. A minor anti-magic spell could even bring the wizard back to life as something close to a spirit body.
It’s a truly jaw-dropping feat, and even non-magicians can feel, ‘That’s the realm of true miracles-‘, but…
Quaaaaaaa!
Passyuk! Passsssssssuk!
“Hehe…”
Now that the scale of magic has been divided into small magic units and the scale has been clearly revealed before our eyes, we can feel how much influence the Last Spell, which we had previously thought of as a ‘roughly great miracle’, has on the world. there was.
“Well, if you look at it, the world of one wizard has come to fruition. “It’s safe to say it’s a small world.”
Sarak-
“If you understand up to that point, a basic explanation is unnecessary.”
For a moment, while I was staring blankly at the paper waterfall, someone spoke up behind me.
I knew someone would come. Astrad is like the owner who created this space and even designed it so that only certain people can enter. Of course, I thought the white-haired Archmage Astrad would show up and welcome me, saying, ‘You’ve managed to notice me and come in~’.
“you are…!”
I never thought that someone other than Astrad would welcome me.
I am someone who knows. But over there…
“Do you… know me?”
“This is my second time seeing you in person. “Now and in the forest when the balloon prepared by the wizards crashed.”
“….ah!”
right. The balloon he was riding on while leaving Wuthering Heights crashed after being hit by a pile of letters pouring in from all over the empire.
In the forest on the way to Haunuman, he appeared as ‘Hyde’, albeit in the form of a black lump protruding from the professor’s side.
Sarah. Sarah.
White bare feet walked lightly over the letters flowing like quicksand.
“It’s been a while, Hyde.”
“…Idrasil.”
Hydrasil. Half-elf Hydrasil.
“how?”
Perhaps because my ecstatic voice was funny, a soft line was drawn around the eyes of the elf, who was now approaching old age.
“I learn quickly.”
Idrasil answered and pointed to his pupils with his finger. This probably means that she arrived here through the same reasoning as me.
“Puhuhuh….”
“Did I make you happy in some way?”
“No no. “It’s not like that, it’s just… because it’s funny.”
“?”
He said as he followed Idrasil, who started walking ahead of him, as if he wanted to talk as he went.
“I thought Astrad was targeting me because of the way he got in here.”
A way that only those who know his past history can properly find the entrance.
A simple design that even people who don’t know magic can use.
Even though I knew it wasn’t the case, the moment a magical space unfolded right in front of me, I thought, ‘Is it for me that this guy from Astrad was rejected back then…?’ or ‘I’m here to help! ‘I believed it!’ The thought occurred to me.
“Well, I don’t want to disappoint you. “I don’t think so.”
“As expected, right? Well, he’s not that leisurely a person-”
“No, that’s not it.”
Hahaha!
I was trying to cover up my embarrassment with a joke, but the sight that unfolded before my eyes made me forget what I was saying.
This is because the letters that came down from the wall, flowing back to the ceiling like a school of salmon, split to the left and right, and a dazzling silver-white light poured out into a world filled with the dull color of yellow paper and dull ink.
island. A large island of letters, which appeared to be the source of the waterfall, was floating in the sky.
The silver-white pillar that ran through its center clearly revealed young branches above and feeble roots below.
There are even letters circling around the island and trees like migratory birds, as if protesting that this is a space created for this purpose.
“…World Tree?”
“To be exact, it is a young branch of the World Tree that he left behind when he passed away.”
Sabak. Sabak.
“More accurately, it can be said to be a key-code that unlocks the administrator’s ‘WORLD tree’ authority.”
Cooung –
And the story that lightly flowed from her mouth made my heart sink.
Words that NPCs in the game cannot say or understand.
Idrasil stood in front of me with steps lighter than paper, turned towards me and greeted me politely.
“It’s been a while, Hyde.”
A greeting that is the same as when we first met, but has different weight and depth.
“One of the five elves who protect the remaining branches of the World Tree. “It’s called High Elf Idrasil.”
“Idrasil, are you… a high elf? “Half-elf?”
“Because a lot of time has passed. That’s long enough for someone in front of me to change from the monster inside the warrior’s body to a human and then back to the red mute I’m familiar with.”
“Compared to that level of change, it wouldn’t be that awkward for a young half-elf to turn into an old high-elf.”
“No, that…”
I had to ask something, but there were so many questions that I was speechless.
Why here? High elf? What about the World Tree? Lock down permissions? key code? What about Astrad? Is there more I don’t know here…?
Even though Idrasil received my earnest gaze, he turned away without saying a word.
Sabak. Sabak.
“Follow me. Astrad is above.”
“That-”
“….and the answer to the question you are asking me so much about right now.”
“Yes yep!”
Oh, it’s difficult. This I, once known as ‘Wandering Tongue’, is overwhelmed! This is not Idrasil, the young and inquisitive elf from long ago!
“Hyde.”
“Yes old! Hydrasil! “I’m leaving now!”
Sabak. Sabak.
Suk Suk Suk!
“…I was going to say it was nice to meet you. Especially that look.”
Idrasil said to me as I was pushing the pile of letters as if I was swimming.
Looking at that image, something about elves suddenly occurred to me.
‘A race that does not change easily and once changed, its appearance lasts a long time.’
Just as a wound on a tree turns into a knot and grows with the tree throughout its life, these people do not change easily, but once they change, they carry it with them forever.
‘Then what kind of life did the elf, whose emotions had become so stiff that he had to explain his happiness separately, live?’
This is the first time I meet Idrasil after being separated from the professor.
She just didn’t meet me, but she also shared the same time as me. Recovery Golden Age War Destruction And Now.
The half-elf who came into the world to learn about humans became so stiff that he had to explain his feelings with his mouth.
Because of what and how much I learned.
“I will tell you in advance. If you stay still like that and you get really swept to the bottom, you won’t be able to find it until Astrad takes it out yourself.”
“How… does it work?”
“I follow the flow of magic. Here, it will be disassembled into a pile of letters the size of a book titled ‘Hyde’. Even if you don’t have to go all the way to the bottom, if you keep yourself in the letters, it won’t be long.”
“Huh!”
The thought that came to mind for a moment was buried in a meaningless joke and disappeared.
Idrasil knew what I was thinking, and I knew she was intentionally blocking the question with a light topic.
Phoo, poop, poop, poop, poop!
“Go, go, go!”
“That’s impressive. “If you have strong muscles, you can really swim here.”
In the end, both of them just laughed and talked about nothing.
[Idrasil, what kind of life did you live?]
….There was no need to ask separately, the answer to that question was mostly written in the path I took.
The reason why Idrasil doesn’t ask about my current appearance is probably the same.
It was too much time and too much to tell.
“It wouldn’t be a bad idea for it to become a letter as is. “If I send it to the professor, he might read it carefully and regain some old memories.”
“I hate me! Me!”
For now, just being happy was enough.
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