TSMRG 33

Chapter 33

A year remained until the summoning order from the House of Laingraim would arrive.

During that time, Ruin devoted himself not only to honing his swordsmanship but also to preparing his surroundings perfectly.

And among all the things he worked on, the one he cared about most was—

“Ugh…”

“Just a little more focus, Sylvia.”

“No good… no matter what I try, it won’t come out.”

Sylvia’s trembling hands betrayed her frustration as she muttered, her voice close to tears.

“Stay calm, don’t lose your breath. Focus your mind and feel the energy around you.”

“O-okay, Ruin!”

She clenched her eyes shut again, forcing herself to concentrate.

At that moment, a gentle breeze brushed past her earlobes, whispering.

[You’re the one who called me, aren’t you?]

“Huh?”

Startled, Sylvia’s eyes flew open—

Whoosh!

A fierce wind suddenly swirled in front of her.

The gale, raging wildly, soon took shape and waved its hand toward her.

[Hello?]

The wind transformed into the figure of a small girl. Sylvia hurried to respond.

“H-hello?”

[My name is Aerial. Who are you, the one who called me?]

“M-my name is Syl…via.”

Though clearly overwhelmed, Sylvia still managed to stammer out an introduction.

Aerial smiled, seemingly pleased, and gently clasped Sylvia’s hand.

[Nice to meet you, Sylvia. Thanks for calling me. So, what should I do now?]

At that moment, Ruin stepped in.

“Sylvia, hurry and make the contract.”

“Ah, right. Got it, Ruin.”

Nodding, Sylvia tightened her grip on Aerial’s hand.

Aerial gave Ruin a quick, sharp glance, but otherwise didn’t react.

Sylvia began reciting the incantation Ruin had taught her.

“In accordance with the ancient covenant, I, Sylvia Felton, seek to forge a soul contract with Aerial, Spirit of Wind…”

Buzz…

Light began to envelop the little girl’s form.

Finally—

“…Will you walk with me?”

Aerial gave a small nod.

Whoooosh—Bang!

The radiant light burst outward, then instantly flowed into Sylvia.

Plop!

“It’s… it’s done.”

Exhaustion stole her strength, and Sylvia collapsed to the ground, murmuring dazedly.

Ruin approached, patting her shoulder gently.

“You did well, Sylvia.”

Suddenly—

“…?!”

“Sniff… I really did it. I finally succeeded, Ruin!”

She threw her arms around him, sobbing with relief.

Though surprised at first, Ruin quickly softened and lightly stroked her back.

“Yeah, you worked really hard. Well done, Sylvia.”

Indeed, she had poured everything into this. Day after day, without rest, she trained and refined her gift.

And because of that, something that would take others more than a decade—summoning and contracting a mid-level spirit—she had achieved in only three years.

Who would believe it if I said she summoned and contracted a mid-level spirit in under three years?

The strength of spirit magic depended largely on one’s natural affinity.

No matter how long one studied or trained, if their basic affinity was low, they might live their whole life without ever summoning even a mid-level spirit.

Of course, affinity isn’t everything.

Even with strong affinity, without relentless effort, summoning a spirit was impossible.

In that sense, Sylvia possessed both talent and effort in abundance.

She may even reach high or top-class spirits someday.

“So, when are you going to show me the spirit you contracted?”

“Ah! Right.”

Slipping free of Ruin’s embrace, Sylvia called out shyly.

“Aerial?”

Whooosh!

At her call, the air swirled, and the transparent figure of a little girl appeared once more.

[Hello, Sylvia.]

“Wow, it really worked!”

Sylvia bounced in delight as Aerial smiled warmly beside her.

Ruin, watching, activated his ability.

<Object Information>

• Name: Aerial

• True Name: (Unable to Interpret)

• Trait: (Unable to Interpret)

• Description: A spirit of wind summoned from another dimension through a contract. Appears capable of growth.

• Special Ability: Thousand-Mile Speech (Cheonrihwa), (Unable to Interpret)

Some details cannot be interpreted due to the current limits of Insight.

This ability is seriously broken…

Once again, Ruin marveled at his Insight of Interpretation.

There were still unreadable parts, but he was certain those would unlock as Heavenly Seamless Blade (Cheonuimubong) continued to grow.

Could this ability itself be the true power of Cheonuimubong?

Being able to see information no one else could—it was priceless.

As someone who once lived as the legendary shadow known as Subject 1872, Ruin knew its worth better than anyone.

Turning his eyes back to Sylvia, who was joyfully chatting with Aerial, he noticed her stats had barely changed—except her “Spirit Arts (Basic)” had now advanced to “Spirit Arts (Intermediate).”

Whew… at least I managed to finish everything on time.

Before the Laingraim summons arrived, Ruin had resolved to complete everything he could in Shyran village.

One of those tasks was ensuring Sylvia’s growth as a spirit wielder.

And now—

Even when I leave for Banapen, Sylvia and I will be able to stay in touch.

For Aerial’s special ability, Thousand-Mile Speech, allowed her to connect with others across vast distances.

It was both an emergency line to Sylvia and the fastest way to hear news of his parents.

“Sylvia.”

“Yeah?”

“Remember our promise?”

“Promise? Oh, of course! I’ll keep Aerial’s summoning a secret, until you say otherwise.”

Her bright smile and earnest response brought a soft smile to Ruin’s lips as well.

“Good. That’s all I need.”

He no longer had subordinates ready to throw away their lives at his command.

But he did have someone who tried her best for him, always by his side.

And more importantly—

“I’ll do anything you want, Ruin!”

Sylvia’s smile, purer than morning sunlight, lit up the space.

…So this is what life feels like?

Something unfamiliar and strange stirred deep within Ruin’s heart.

Not long after Sylvia’s growth in spirit arts, the time came to part ways with the Third Star, Lenovan.

“So today’s the last, it seems.”

“Huh?”

“A new research project is about to begin. The Tower has formed a new society for it. From here on, I won’t have the leisure to teach you further.”

“A new research project?”

“Yes. It’s complex and dangerous. I won’t have time for anything else. Our bond ends here.”

Lenovan didn’t reveal the nature of the project. Instead, he looked at Ruin with a sly glint.

“But tell me, Ruin… you really won’t follow me to the Tower? If you come, you could study and research side by side. With your magic and intellect, you’d quickly become the Tower’s top disciple.”

A final offer.

But Ruin shook his head, looking regretful.

“I’m sorry, Teacher. I’m grateful, but I can’t. Mother would strongly oppose, and Father too, I think.”

“…Fine. I won’t drag someone along against their will.”

Lenovan sighed, shaking his head.

Ruin teased lightly.

“Then what about someone who wants to follow you? Like… Kabela?”

“Kabela?”

Lenovan’s eyes gleamed at the name. He nodded.

“She’ll be joining my research society.”

“What? In the research group?”

“Yes. Her ability and talent are quite decent. She’ll be useful.”

He chuckled faintly.

“Ha… if she insists on being my disciple now, I can’t even deny it. Funny, isn’t it?”

Then, with a wink, he added:

“Still, Ruin—you were my last true disciple. Even if it was only by name.”

Ruin bowed deeply.

“Thank you for everything, Teacher Lenovan.”

“Don’t thank me. I enjoyed my twilight years teaching a clever student like you.”

Laughing heartily, Lenovan bid farewell.

“Let’s not drag this out. Farewell, Ruin. You’ve endured much, listening to this old man.”

“Teacher, thank you as well.”

With that, Lenovan returned to the Tower, leaving Ruin behind.

And then, at last—

“Ruin.”

“Sigh… already?”

On his thirteenth birthday, people from the Laingraim Sword House, “The Sky of the North,” arrived with a letter.

“Long time no see, young master Kavel.”

It was Freon Jircajin, the Grandmaster of Snowflame, who had once escorted Ruin to the Sword Ceremony.

He bowed, holding out the letter stamped with Laingraim’s crest.

“And here is the summons.”

Ruin’s father, Kavel, frowned deeply.

“…Must Ruin truly go there?”

“Yes. It is the will of the lord.”

Freon answered firmly, then turned to Ruin.

“Ruin, you are Laingraim. You must answer this summons. You understand, don’t you?”

But before Ruin could answer—

“Ruin.”

His mother, Daisy, spoke with solemn resolve.

“If you don’t want to go, just say so. Your father and I will always be on your side. If you don’t wish it, you don’t have to go. And…”

Her voice faltered as she glanced at Freon and the swordsmen behind him.

“We’ll make sure of it. Whatever you choose, Ruin—it will be as you want.”

Her voice carried the raw pain of a mother not wanting to part with her son.

“Yes, Ruin. Speak honestly to us, your parents. Whatever you want, we’ll do it.”

Kavel and Daisy both looked ready to defy even Laingraim’s elite swordsmen if their son wished to stay.

But Ruin shook his head.

“No, Mother, Father.”

“What?”

“I’ll go to Laingraim. And…”

He looked at them both, smiling faintly.

“I’ll bring it back for you.”

Both parents blinked, confused.

“Huh? Bring what back?”

“What are you talking about, Ruin?”

Ruin’s reply was calm and firm.

“Our rightful place.”