BMPEW 43

Chapter 43

Fwoosh!

What burned in midair was the Tome of Earth’s Authority.

Abellus clenched his teeth as he watched the parchment crumble into ash. Then, with a growl, he lunged forward and snatched Erasinus’s staff.

Gripping it tightly, he sprinted to the center of the frozen lake and began striking the ice.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The thickly frozen surface cracked but showed no sign of shattering.

Erasinus, deciding there was no need to interfere further, called out leisurely.

“Forgive me! If I’d known you wanted to break the ice, I wouldn’t have burned the scroll. You charged at me so suddenly, I thought you were attacking!”

At those words, Abellus—pounding at the ground like a madman—suddenly let out a low laugh.

Still swinging the staff without pause, he said:

“I’ve noticed something about you.”

Thud. Thud.

Striking the same spot over and over, the ice was finally on the verge of breaking through.

“You always apologize for the things you don’t need to.”

Then, with a swift motion, Abellus pulled out another scroll hidden deep inside his robes.

Before coming here, Paulus had pressed a bundle of scrolls from other houses into his hands.

“Master, take these with you.”

“What for?”

“Because His Lordship often uses methods that cannot be overcome by fire’s authority.”

“Often?”

“…Forgive me. I’ll accept whatever punishment you see fit after we find the young lady.”

Crackkk.

At last, the ice gave way, and long fractures split across the frozen lake.

Abellus unfurled the scroll and thrust it with the staff into the opening.

The Authority of Wind.

[DCXCIX. Waterspout]

Woooong—

A resonance spread across the frozen surface—half like the sound of wind, half like a distant wail.

Soon it grew, swallowing every other sound around them until—

KWA-KRA-KA-BOOM!

The wall of ice shattered like nothing, and the entire lake overturned.

Shards of ice scattered in every direction, scattering light in a wild, dazzling frenzy.

Propelled by authority, Abellus leapt into the broken landscape—and instantly spotted familiar red hair.

“Calidora!”

He snatched the falling child into his arms and landed on a sunny patch of grass.

But then despair struck him.

“Calidora, open your eyes! Calidora!”

The child’s body was stiff, hardened. The weight in his arms was no longer that of the living.

“No… No, no… Calidora…”

It was impossible.

Only hours ago she had been laughing, circling him with her usual cheer.

But in the briefest lapse—no, it wasn’t that. The reason wasn’t a fleeting distraction.

It was his own pointless temper.

Abellus could not forgive himself.

Why had he done it in the first place? He couldn’t understand.

When the Elder had asked her to be his sister, maybe—just maybe—he had been hoping she’d stubbornly push forward as always.

But that realization was worthless now.

With trembling hands, Abellus opened his authority. If only he could bring her back. If only he could share warmth, even like this…

But he stopped before laying his burning, fevered hands on her.

Her body was frozen so solid that even the slightest mistake might shatter her.

It was just like the scene from his dream. Her bloodless, pale skin looked as if it would crumble at the lightest touch.

In the end, he suppressed his uncontrollable magic.

Instead, he hugged the child tightly, praying that his body heat might reach her.

He had never once wished for her death.

Though he spoke as if he hated her, he hadn’t truly.

He had only been running away.

In truth, he had never gotten far enough to truly connect her with the one he claimed to hate.

Calidora reminded him of his childhood in Kecaum.

Though most of that time she hadn’t even existed, the resemblance was uncanny.

In the northwestern mountain town of Kecaum, Abellus had been seven during his last year there.

It was nearly a forgotten memory, but sometimes flashes of those days came back with startling clarity.

Kecaum—

A rough, dull frontier town newly settled by people. Yet despite its rawness, it brimmed with hope. Everywhere he looked, there had been families.

Back then, he hated the place with all his heart.

Each day their return to Ardentluna was delayed, his obsession with escaping that tiny town grew.

In his last memory there, he was shouting at people.

That he would leave immediately, leave behind this worthless place and these worthless people, and go to Forum where far greater and more important things awaited.

He rode away on the pony he had received as a birthday gift, leaving Kecaum Castle. Ironically, that became his final farewell to that world within its walls.

Every moment since, he had regretted it.

He hadn’t hated them—not truly. He should have told them that much.

Some memories, no matter how happy, only bring pain greater than the happiness they once gave.

So Abellus chose to turn away.

“Please, like me even just a little…”

So when a similar moment came again, he averted his gaze.

But in his heart, he was making a vow.

You aren’t what I hate.

One day, he would tell her—this time, for certain.

Yet now, with perhaps his final chance before him, Abellus finally faced the truth he had always avoided.

Don’t die.

Stay with me. Remind me of the things I once loved.

If that’s too selfish a request, then let me become what you want me to be.

At the very least, let me become someone better than I was back then.

So let this realization come before I lose you this time.

For a while, she only trembled in the bone-piercing cold.

But after some time, the pain suddenly vanished, her body growing lighter.

It was as if her body and soul were separating.

She had felt this once before—at the final moment when she collapsed in the Temple of Vesta.

Am I… dying like this again?

She hadn’t accomplished anything yet. Once more, she would only bring shame to her family.

The guilt welled up so strongly she wished she could simply disappear.

She had come knowing roughly what the future held, and yet this was all she could do?

And worst of all, she didn’t even know the reason why she was suffering this fate.

Hhhhhh…

She wanted to cry out loud, but her lips were frozen stiff, unable to make a sound.

Lady Calidora…

What would happen to her now?

The lakeside was silent. There seemed to be no one coming to save her.

At this rate, Lady Calidora would die before living out her full span of years.

Normally she would pray to the goddess—but as she sank, she found herself instead murmuring words meant for Calidora.

Lady Calidora, are you with the goddess now?

Is it peaceful there? Have you escaped those who hurt you?

I’m sorry. I don’t think I can keep my promise.

—Farewell, my descendant Cassia. Welcome back to Ignitus.

When Lady Calidora had first called her by name like that, she had instantly known how deeply the woman loved Ignitus, and her place within it.

And so she believed the family must have cherished her just as dearly in return.

But that was not the truth at all.

Realizing that, she could no longer pretend she and Calidora shared the same heart.

At least as Ignisia, she had been praised because of her name.

Even though things had ended badly in the end, she had received overflowing love. So much so she had felt compelled to repay it.

Remembering that filled her chest with warmth. Her frozen lips could not form a smile, but her heart swelled nonetheless.

Hold on. It’s not over yet. I still have to save the family.