Chapter 161: 161 160 "The Magician is planning something"

The setting sun shone through the window and illuminated the corridor of the Belle Fain House. A servant carrying a bottle of water hung her head reverently, her dark hair swaying in response, reflected in the window.

...... Come in, Mr. Fialaert.

The servant's lips moved and his eyes flickered vacantly as Fialaert's black hair flowed lazily past him.

Thank you, that's all Fialaert said and walked proudly across the hallway of the lord's house. It was as if it was a matter of course. As if to emphasize that there was nothing strange about it. A sweet, flowery scent dripped from the tip of her fingers.

Slowly, slowly, she made her way down the corridor and out of the servant's sight, letting out a sigh of relief.

--Thank goodness, apparently, that went well.

Then he leaned against the wall and stared at his fingertips. His dark eyes fluttered.

Thought-provoking magic. Well, it's useful, but it's far from universal. In a sense, it's a magic that is magic.

All it can do is to induce thought and misrepresent facts. If it is too uncomfortable, the effect will be weakened. The most that Fialaat can do now is to imprint on their brains that it is not strange for him, as a guest, to walk around the house.

In this way, it seems that the incitement of a large number of people forcibly, as Lugis said, is still a long way off.

The black eyes of Fialat blinked involuntarily. It's going to be a long time before I can show this to Lugis. It's so frustrating. If I had to do it all over again, I'd rather blow the results into Lugis' ears right now and listen to the sound that escapes from his lips.

But patience. Too much haste and you'll let great success slip through your fingers. We must be ready. There's no room for a drop of water or a bug.

And thought guidance is all I need for now. All I needed was a little bit of freedom, and that's all I need. So there's no need to rush.

But Fialaat understood that there was a thought in her heart that she couldn't resist. He tried to keep his footsteps quiet so as not to attract suspicion or alert anyone, but unconsciously his body began to move faster. It was pathetic. I'm like a child who can't control his emotions.

But soon, Lugis will be here. It was a kind of premonition, an anticipation of his movements. Yes, he would come. To take this city of Belfain. Because that's who Lugis is.

Then I want to make sure everything is in order for him. Create a path, set the stage for him, and wait. I wonder if he'd be happy to do that. Will he admire me? Would he even look at me a little? The mere thought of it brought something warm and fuzzy to Fialaat's heart. He couldn't help but hold it in.

Right now, Lugis is not looking at me. That's a fact, isn't it? I don't want to know, I don't want to understand, but I can't turn away from that fact. You can't.

Because to look away is to accept what Lugis is doing. Even if she doesn't look at you, you have to accept that it's okay.

I'm sure the old me would have accepted it easily, Fialaert thinks. If I had desperately tried to reach out and chase after that hand, and it still showed its back to me. He must have accepted that he had no choice, that he was out of reach. He must have accepted it.

But for some strange reason, not even the slightest trace of such a feeling appeared in his heart at this moment. Rather, it's as if the choice to accept and give up never existed in the first place.

Perhaps it was inspired by Lugis. Or perhaps such a quality was embedded deep within Fialat's psyche from the start.

And so the spirit tells us. And so his spirit tells him that he must accomplish everything here at Belle Fain. I need to put a definitive stake in Lugis.

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Yes, a stake, right here, right now, so that he can eventually rely on me and reach out to me. Fialat's dark eyes twinkled.

I don't want you to underestimate me. It is true that I have been given less than the hero of the battlefield, Kalia, or the heraldic saint, Mattia. Perhaps God has not given me glory, but only contempt.

Originally, I was not a genius who could accomplish anything with ease. I had to endure humiliation with my eyes wet with bitterness and my fists clenched. I saw the wall of resignation many times. I was made to despise myself over and over again. Over and over again, I was told that I couldn't do it, that it was beyond the reach of someone like me. And every time I did, I bled from my nails.

Yes, I've seen the wall of resignation many times while surrounded by talented people. And each time I've hung my head, I've been a fool. That's why, yeah, that's why.

--I'm not giving up on you. don't think you can get away from me so easily.

I don't care if my fingernails chip off, if my fingers bleed, if the light goes out of my eyes. The pain of being ripped off is much better than the sobs of resignation.

Fialat's cheeks relaxed and his feet moved down the corridors of the lord's house. He had already decided where he was going.

Every lord, nobleman, or whatever you call them has a room. Fialat's feet slowly made their way to the library, the place where the knowledge of the land was gathered. His steps had a clear will and purpose.

I'm not sure if this is a good idea or not.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

The golden eyes fluttered as if frightened by something.

Alueno felt his lips become very dry. He felt a strange choking sensation in his lungs. His organs were complaining of an uncomfortable feeling, as if the air he had just been breathing had been transformed into something else.

What the hell? What's happening? My eyelids blinked a few times, and I turned my thoughts around in my strangely shaking head. It's not that the air has really changed. Something similar, something shook.

Oh, yeah, magic. The flow of magic twisted and turned for a moment. It gave me a feeling as if the air had been transformed. Arueno suppressed his mouth with his hand, feeling as if he were about to vomit.

It was probably just an uncomfortable feeling. If it were a mere human, it would end with a slight tilt of the head. Even a person with a deep knowledge of magic might frown lightly and pretend not to have noticed it.

However, the magic power that is pouring into the body of the saint, the body that is called and revered as such, is telling her that there is a clear abnormality in her body. The magic itself is being shaken, and the flow that should be there is flowing backwards in an unpleasant way. In other words, it's as if the blood circulating throughout your body has forgotten where it's going and is carrying it to the wrong place.

--This is no good. There's something very wrong going on.

Her golden hair is shaking. Alueno felt his cheeks turn slightly pale. Without realizing it, he stood up. For a moment now, he felt a twisting, turbulent, rushing flow of magic. As if searching for its source, his wobbly legs took him out of his room and into the hallway.

The setting sun through the window gently caressed Alueno's eyes. The sun was about to set. Her long eyelashes fluttered.

--.

As if shaken by the evening scenery, Alueno's lips rippled slightly. The voice that leaked out faintly did not reach anyone, but disappeared into the sky.

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