IRE 55

chapter 55

Honestly, I was a little taken aback by Adrian suddenly bowing deeply, his back and head lowered.

I was the one concerned here, yet I didn’t even think what they had done was so wrong—and now he was treating himself like some kind of criminal.

The title “heretic” had certainly stung a little, but it wasn’t as if they had ever committed an actual wrongdoing against me.

“‘Rights’? What rights?”

I gave a wry smile and lightly patted his shoulder.

He didn’t straighten his back, but he lifted his head just enough to look up at my expression.

“Has that been weighing on your mind all this time?”

If someone were to ask whether I resented them, I could only answer—maybe just a little.

Just… a bit.

Well, yes.

I guess…

“I’ve received your apology, so that’s enough.”

It seemed that, somewhere deep within my heart, something had been curled up without me realizing it. Something that had built up and hardened over time.

But with just one sincere apology, that heavy, knotted feeling dissolved and vanished like mist.

It had been there all along, quietly pressing down on me.

Feeling lighter than I had in years, I smiled brightly at him.

“Stand up, Adrian. I don’t resent the people of our village anymore.”

Truly, they had never done me any direct harm.

I hadn’t been bullied or tormented, so they weren’t guilty of any real crime against me.

But still, because of them, I endured a painful childhood.

It had been clear discrimination—rejection of who I was.

They had never pointed fingers, thrown stones, or hurled insults.

They had only whispered “heretic” behind my back and avoided me.

Day after day, I was turned away.

I lived among people who doubted my very existence, who called me “heretic” instead of by my name.

That was the reality up until just yesterday.

Before the alliance with the Beastkin. Until just yesterday, they had still treated me that way—

An incomprehensible, shunned existence.

A heretic.

“My mother once told me something.”

But now…

“She said, ‘What you choose to think determines the world you live in.’ The villagers may have rejected me, but they never bore hatred or malice. They only wished to protect the forest. They simply didn’t believe I belonged in it. And since I respected their belief, I didn’t try to change their minds. That, to me, was respect. So for me to say I was hurt by their rejection would be a contradiction.”

See?

In just one day—

In one day, they changed their minds and began to respect mine.

We could do that.

Even so, I never tried to persuade them before.

Their refusal to acknowledge or accept me was my fault—a result of my own mistaken choice. They had no reason to think of that as their wrongdoing.

“And it’s not as though I only remember what happened ten years ago.”

Adrian had spoken of the events a decade past—but I could speak of what happened thirteen years ago.

Thirteen years ago, when the bow still felt awkward in my hands, when I was afraid of the future awaiting me as a Sentinel—

“Do you remember? You taught me how to use a bow. You taught me what it meant to be a Sentinel—duty and conviction.”

Back then, when I cursed my fate for being born an elf, consumed by aimless anger and hatred toward the world—

You taught me the way of the forest.

You taught me its spirit, even when I was blinded by my emotions.

You became my older brother.

That’s why I gave up trying to convince you.

Because I knew my ideals were unrealistic. Because I didn’t want you to feel despair over my dreams. Because one person’s conflict and resolve would be enough—mine.

“But now things are different.”

They’ve changed.

“I need you.”

Though I had once preached that the spirit of the forest meant harmony, not isolation, I had chosen to isolate myself.

I never realized how contradictory that was.

It was the height of foolishness, truly.

“So let’s forget the past and just think about building a better future.”

Perhaps he truly understood what I meant, because Adrian finally straightened his back and looked at me again.

His expression was caught between a smile and a grimace.

“Are you… really satisfied with that?”

“Of course.”

“It’s been over ten years. Maybe that’s a short time compared to the rest of your life, but still—half your lifetime was spent with us…”

“That’s enough. I’ve said what I needed to say.”

I raised a hand to stop him.

He opened his mouth, closed it again, and repeated that a few times, as if he’d forgotten how to speak.

Finally, Adrian lowered his head, placed a hand on my shoulder, and said quietly—

“…Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

With that, our conversation ended, and we began walking again.

This time, our steps fell in sync.

After clearing the air with Adrian, time passed quickly, and before long, we reached the outskirts of El Rel.

Keris still didn’t seem to like Adrian much, but at least she wasn’t as sharp-tongued as before.

Then, one day, as we continued our journey—

“Wow, more spirits!”

Keris beamed as she pointed at the spirits drifting through the air.

“Must be because we’re getting close to El Rel. There are more and more of them,” Adrian said.

“This is the area most influenced by the World Tree,” he added. “It’s the place where nature’s essence is strongest on the entire continent, so spirits are born more frequently here.”

Keris laughed and waved at the floating spirits that approached and then darted away.

But they slipped through her fingers and playfully circled out of reach, teasing her.

“Ugh, I just want to touch one! El, tell them to let me catch one!”

“…Somehow, I doubt they’d listen.”

Truth be told, spirits didn’t particularly like me.

They didn’t hate me, but they weren’t fond of me either—so they rarely paid attention.

“Seriously? You call yourself an elf?”

“……”

Her words hit me like a hammer to the chest.

Sometimes, she said things so casually, yet they hurt so deeply.

I really wished she’d stop.

“You’re not like Athir,” Eslyn said, watching the spirits with curiosity.

“What do you mean?”

“Their shape. Athir’s and Adrian’s spirits had animal forms, but these ones don’t. Are there wandering spirits that do have forms?”

“Spirits with forms? There are, yes.”

The ones floating before us had no defined shapes—just small, glowing orbs drifting freely through nature.

They were newly born, still immature, without identities or elements of their own. They had only just gained life and wandered about.

They were closer to fairies or soul wisps than to full-fledged spirits.

Because of that, their communication was limited to the level of a small child’s.

And since their power and sense of self were underdeveloped, they couldn’t enter the Spirit Realm, merely drifting through nature instead.

“So, a wandering spirit with a form isn’t newly born—it’s one that fell from the Spirit Realm after its contractor died.”

Sometimes, a spirit that lost its contractor would suffer such mental shock that it lost its sense of self entirely. Those became wandering spirits, unable to return to the Spirit Realm.

“They lose their selves?” Eslyn asked in surprise.

“Yes. And since their essence still belongs to the Spirit Realm, being cut off and left adrift in this world drains their power. Eventually, such spirits lose all their strength and fade away.”

“That’s awful…”

That was the tragic fate of spirits who lost their partners.

“Of course, not all end up that way,” I continued. “If the bond between spirit and contractor wasn’t too strong, they might survive the loss. Then they can return to the Spirit Realm and recover over time.”

“So contracts are really… double-edged swords,” Eslyn murmured.

“Mm.”

To connect two minds is to share one’s life. One’s death can mean the other’s end.

There were even elves who refused to form such bonds out of fear.

“Then why do spirits take that risk?” she asked.

Well… that wasn’t such a simple question.

I couldn’t help but give a faint smile.

“That’s… a long story.”

“I don’t mind!”

Eslyn’s eyes sparkled with curiosity, and her sister leaned in to listen too.

Seeing them so focused, I couldn’t bring myself to stop.

“To understand spirit contracts, we have to start with the Spirit Realm itself,” I said, scratching my chin thoughtfully.

“Spirits are born in nature, but they eventually move their essence to the Spirit Realm—because this world can’t sustain them for long.”

The natural world is their birthplace, their foundation.

That means two things:

First, like a ghost bound to its haunt, a spirit cannot stray far from the place it was born.

And second, if that place is destroyed, the spirit dies with it.

In other words, the destruction of their birthplace equals death.

But as civilization spread and nature was destroyed by human hands, they could no longer survive here.

“So, they moved their essence to the Spirit Realm—to preserve themselves. Over time, that migration became their natural way of life.”

Young, unformed spirits—those we call wisps—don’t yet have the strength to survive such a transition. Only when they mature, forming their own identities and elemental natures, can they shift their essence and leave the physical world behind.

But then, why do they return here through contracts?

“Because the Spirit Realm and this world—the Middle Realm—are inseparable.”

By the way, I’d been saying “natural world” for simplicity, but that’s not an official term—just my own.

“In truth, no one knows what the Spirit Realm actually is. It’s a dimension only spirits can perceive. No one— not even spirits themselves—know who created it, what lives there, or how it began. Even the Spirit King doesn’t know.”

I’d once asked Athir directly what the Spirit Realm was, and why spirits migrate there as soon as they awaken.

He said even the Spirit King doesn’t know its origin. That migration is simply instinct, like breathing—it can’t be explained, only felt.

“All we know is that the Spirit Realm’s foundation depends on the natural world here.”

When the natural world decays, so does the Spirit Realm.

When nature thrives, the Spirit Realm flourishes.

“That’s why spirits form contracts—to return here and protect their home from destruction.”

Whether in this world or theirs, it is their duty to safeguard their birthplace.

“Also,” Adrian added, “a summoned spirit’s mere presence benefits the world. They embody nature’s essence, and their existence nourishes the cycle of life—just as trees and forests do.”

That was one of the reasons Adrian always kept his spirit summoned.

It was a form of training—to deepen his mental connection—but also his duty as a contractor.

To honor nature. To nurture it.

That is the price and purpose of a spirit contract.

(Though, at the moment, his spirit was reverse-summoned to conserve mana.)

My long explanation came to an end.

I was about to ask them what they thought when suddenly—

I sensed something. Several presences nearby.

“Looks like they’re already here.”

“Huh? We’re close, but we still have a little way before El Rel—”

“No.”

I shook my head.

“They’ve come to meet us.”

A voice rang out, just as I finished speaking.

“Adrian, is that you?”

The voice of a Sentinel from El Rel—clear and close, though its owner was nowhere in sight.

It must have been carried by a wind spirit.

Adrian stiffened, startled that he hadn’t sensed it earlier. But soon, recognition dawned, and his face brightened.

“Lucif, is that you?”

“That’s right. Adrian of Le Ruiel.”

But the voice carried no warmth.

In fact, there was a trace of hostility in it.

“And the one beside you… I don’t even need to ask. Seeing you walking with those filthy beasts, it must be the traitor, Eldmir Arhitea.”

“Well, that’s just great.”

To be greeted with insults right off the bat—

I couldn’t help but recall Aschira’s so-called prophecy.

“Heh heh heh… I can already see your future. My guess? The moment you meet them, that’s when you’ll clash with El Rel.”

A bad feeling crept over me—
that her words were about to come true.