Chapter 50
Chapter 50
Chapter 50
The Hero left without a word, like someone waking from a sweet dream. Everyone just stood there, staring at the door through which the Hero had departed.
Ian clapped his hands to break the silence.
Smack! At the small sound, everyone snapped back to attention, their gazes turning toward him.
“What are you all standing around for? Pack up what you need. We’ve got to head back.”
There was no time to linger. They had to hurry back if they were to cancel the support request sent to their family.
Ian led the way as they searched the room. There wasn’t anything worthy of being called treasure.
All they managed to gather were a few pouches of gold coins and magic stones, along with a couple of trinkets like Dara’s pocket watch.
As for the books and papers filled with writing, they had no choice but to take everything, given their lack of understanding of magic.
Fortunately, there were a few carts abandoned within the ruins, so carrying everything out seemed manageable.
“Mael, Mari. One of you stay behind and supervise, the other comes with me.”
Behind him, the two were arguing over who would go, settling it with a game of rock-paper-scissors.
With a faint smile, Ian left the room and began to inspect the ruins. Mael soon followed him.
As they walked down the hallway, they arrived at a fairly spacious area.
“This place feels oddly sacred,” Mael remarked.
“It’s a chapel.”
“Ah, I see.”
Right in front of them, two massive rows of columns stood majestically, and as their eyes followed the space between them, they saw that part of the ceiling had collapsed, allowing light to pour in.
The light illuminated a large wall, which was covered in a mural.
They approached to take a closer look. Although the passage of time had damaged much of it, the images were still recognizable.
It depicted muscular men and women locked in a brutal, desperate battle against monsters.
The monsters clearly had the upper hand, outnumbering the humans so much that hope seemed nonexistent.
Ian reached out and touched the mural. Faint magic lingered within it. The moment he realized this, he exhaled in relief.
Phew… that’s a relief.
To the ancient Elyar people, the murals in their temples were more than just decorations—they were central to the rites for becoming warriors.
Since the mural remained and retained its magic, it meant they could perform the same rites here.
“Mael.”
“Yes, young master?”
“Go tell Mari to stop what she’s doing and bring everyone here.”
“What about the captured Dark Mages?”
“Oh, right. I forgot about them.”
Special tools were needed to properly restrain mages, but they didn’t have anything like that on hand.
For now, all they could do was tie their hands with rope and blindfold and gag them with torn cloth. If left alone, the mages could use their magic to escape.
In the process, they might even burn all the valuable materials they had gathered. Leaving someone behind to guard them wasn’t an option either.
“Bring them too.”
“Understood.”
Mael ran off, and before long, he returned with everyone from the ruins.
Ian glanced at the three bound Dark Mages. After knocking them unconscious himself, he finally spoke.
“From now on, we’re going to recreate the ancient Elyar ritual.”
“Is this the ritual that grants us those special traits?”
“That’s right. If the word ‘ritual’ makes you uncomfortable or uneasy, you don’t have to participate. But I assure you, this will help your future, not hinder it. Now, does anyone need time to think it over?”
No one raised their hand. They all stood silent, gazing at him. Although their faces were hidden beneath their helmets, the atmosphere was telling.
Ian could feel the yearning from the knights.
They, too, must have realized many things while fighting the Dark Mages.
They had seen firsthand that their opponents were far from easy to defeat and had also witnessed the Hero’s immense power. Though they remained silent, there was undoubtedly a desire within them to grow stronger.
There was no way they would pass up this opportunity.
“Alright, I’ll take that as everyone agreeing. In front of the mural, you’ll each find a gold coin on the floor. There’s exactly one for each of you, so take your spot, kneel on your left knee, and wait for my signal. When I give it, place your hand on the ground next to your left knee, close your eyes, and release your magic into the floor.”
“For how long?”
“You’ll know once you do it.”
Truthfully, Ian didn’t know all the details either. This was his first time trying something he’d only heard about and memorized in theory.
The Red Spear Knights moved into position, and Ian signaled them to begin.
He, too, knelt on one knee and let his magic flow into the ground.
In that instant, a dizzying sensation overtook him, and he felt his consciousness being pulled elsewhere.
Waaaaaaah!
A deafening roar echoed in his mind, and Ian opened his eyes.
Just moments ago, they were inside the ruins, but now, an expansive plain stretched out before him.
On that plain, muscular men and women were locked in combat with monsters.
They had no weapons. No shields. The only thing covering them was worn, tattered leather.
Yet they were overwhelming the monsters with their bare hands and feet.
The sight reminded him of bears.
Even when wounded, they didn’t retreat. In fact, the more they bled, the fiercer they became.
The warriors of ancient Elyar roared with such intensity that it crushed the ferocity of the monsters, stomping out their savage aura.
Their overwhelming fighting spirit seeped into Ian’s body.
He felt his blood growing hotter, to the point where he feared he might burn alive if he didn’t release that heat.
The only way to do that seemed to be hunting the monsters, just like the warriors were doing.
But before that, Ian checked his condition. He was still clothed and armed, though his magic wasn’t responding.
That’s fine.
As long as he had a weapon, it wouldn’t be an issue to hunt monsters. The lack of magic wouldn’t pose much of a problem. Just as he was about to charge forward, someone called his name.
“Young master.”
When he turned, he saw Mael and Mari. Behind them were the Red Spear Knights, waiting for orders.
Ian didn’t hesitate.
“Let’s go.”
That one word was enough. No further explanation was needed. Where they were, what they had to do, and what would happen if they died fighting the monsters—it didn’t matter.
Instinctively, they all knew. Here, all thoughts must be cast aside, and they simply had to fight.
“Waaaaaaah!”
The knights, clad in armor, charged forward, disregarding formation as they swung their swords with wild abandon at the monsters.
Ian did the same. And soon, he experienced something strange. He could read the monsters’ movements.
Though each one was bizarre in appearance, making their attacks difficult to predict, he could see where they were aiming, and even sensed the subtle approaches from his blind spots.
He slashed.
And then he stabbed.
Covered in spraying blood, Ian fought on, oblivious to his injuries. He didn’t care about conserving his stamina. Even as his breathing grew heavy, he never tired.
Before he knew it, he realized he was alone. The barbaric warriors had vanished, and the Red Spear Knights were nowhere to be seen.
Ian stood alone in the vast, seemingly endless plain, facing the oncoming flood of monsters.
He wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t overwhelmed. Despite the irrationality of the situation, an indomitable fighting spirit surged within him.
Just as the blade in his hand began to flicker, and flames seemed ready to ignite—
“!”
Ian snapped back to reality, as if waking from a dream. His entire body was drenched in sweat.
Though his limbs felt heavy, like waterlogged cotton, his mood was refreshingly light.
Did it work?
An unfamiliar yet burning power flowed through his veins, rejuvenating his weary body. There was no doubt that he had gained a new trait.
If it was connected to the vision he just experienced, then it likely granted him unwavering resolve even in dire situations, along with a sharpened perception of his enemy’s movements in battle.
A few trials would make it clear.
Hoo…
He slowly stood up and examined the mural.
“?!”
He was startled as he noticed the mural gradually fading, much like water evaporating. It seemed the power within the mural had been completely spent during the ritual.
Lucky.
Had the Dark Mages, who once occupied this place, taken an interest in the mural and studied it, or worse, attempted to reenact the ritual, Ian and his comrades might not have gotten this opportunity.
As the mural continued to fade, Ian turned around. The Red Spear Knights, now catching their breath, had regained their senses.
“Are you alright?”
Though they groaned in pain, they seemed to be fine.
Mael and Mari removed their helmets and tucked them under their arms. Then, without warning, they bowed deeply toward Ian.
“Thank you, young master.”
“Thank you, young master.”
Not to be outdone, the Red Spear Knights also rose, despite their exhaustion, and expressed their gratitude.
They knew. What they had just experienced was an opportunity more valuable than any amount of gold or treasure.
And they knew that the trait they had gained from the ritual would significantly aid their growth and greatly enhance their chances of survival.
They would remember.
That if it weren’t for Ian, they would have suffered greatly at the hands of the Dark Mages disguised as mercenaries.
That if it weren’t for Ian, they wouldn’t have found the ruins.
That if it weren’t for Ian, they wouldn’t have had the honor of hunting down the Dark Mages.
And that if it weren’t for Ian, they wouldn’t have acquired the traits of the ancient Elyar warriors.
They would remember it for the rest of their lives.
—
The journey back was smooth. Or rather, it was difficult, but not due to monsters or beasts.
It was the sheer load they had to carry—research journals and grimoires obtained from the ruins, as well as other materials from the Dark Mages.
Fortunately, they had a cart, which made the task manageable. Without it, it would have been much more burdensome.
They stopped at a nearby village to resupply, then traveled to a town with a train station, before finally returning to the great city of Lus.
Unexpectedly, Ian’s eldest brother, Verdan, was there to greet him.
“You’ve done well.”
“They worked harder than I did.”
Despite their knightly titles, the Red Spear Knights had to divide the menial tasks among themselves.
Since they were freshly trained knights without attendants and had to stay in dangerous areas for the mission, bringing along servants was not an option.
Leading soldiers might have made things easier, but this wasn’t a mission of such great importance, so they had no choice but to manage on their own.
“I suppose so.”
Verdan praised the efforts of the Red Spear Knights and promised them appropriate rewards for their hard work. He then ordered the knights to return to their barracks for some well-deserved rest.
“Thank you for your hard work, young master.”
“We’ll be heading off now.”
“Much appreciated.”
The usually reserved knights bid their farewells to Ian one by one as they left. Verdan watched Ian closely.
“What is it?” Ian asked.
“Surprising. You seem to have gotten close with the knights.”
“Well, we went through a lot together in the forest. And I gave them a valuable gift.”
“A gift?”
Ian then explained everything about discovering the ruins and the events that had transpired there.
Although he had sent a letter before their return, it had been a brief summary, so Verdan wasn’t aware of the full details.
Verdan nodded in understanding.
“I see. If they gained the traits of ancient warriors, it makes sense they’d react that way. I’m envious. Is there any chance you can perform that ritual again?”
“The mural’s gone, so no.”
“What if we tried to restore it?”
Ian let out a short laugh.
“Well, who could possibly do that?”
“So, it’s impossible?”
“There’s not a trace left. Unless an ancient Elyar warrior comes back to life or their descendants appear, it’s highly unlikely anyone can replicate it. You know that. Better to just give up.”
“Pity…”
“That’s why I brought back plenty of gifts for you.”
Verdan glanced over at the large stacks of books and papers piled high. He sighed heavily.
“I misspoke. It’s not a gift, it’s a mountain of work.”
———-