Chapter 66: Jhordin (1)

Chapter 66: Jhordin (1)

Clank!

The door opened again not long after. Jhordin’s excited voice rang out.

“Come in. If you grant my request, you don’t have to pay even a single coin.”

“What’s with you all of a sudden?”

“Come in. Quickly.”

His attitude had changed so much that it was bewildering. Ronan and Adeshan followed Jhordin almost without thinking.

His office gave the impression of being barren rather than clean. Through the excessively high windows, only the pale white sky was visible.

Furniture consisted of a desk and drawers placed in the corners of the room, chairs, and a desk placed within arm’s reach. Ronan, who was sniffing around, furrowed his eyebrows.

‘No smell at all.’

The lack of scent also contributed to the sterile atmosphere. Compared to Varen Panacir’s office, which was always filled with the smell of tea and cookies, it was a completely different environment. Jhordin pointed to the desk.

“Take a seat. As you can see, I dislike clutter.”

There were no pieces of furniture meant for reception. Ronan, leaving a hesitant Adeshan behind, perched himself on Jhordin’s desk.

Thud!

The moment Jhordin closed the door, the external noise disappeared completely.

“Huh?!”

Adeshan flinched. The sudden silence was as shocking as a firecracker exploding right next to one’s ear. Ronan asked a question.

“Is the entire room under a silence spell?”

“Yeah. I dislike being disturbed as much as being meddled with.”

Jhordin fastened each of the differently shaped locks one by one. The sound of the lock clicking was unusually loud.

There were seven locks, one more than what Ronan had expected. Jhordin’s office, already devoid of any smell, was like a sensory prison. Jhordin, who had locked all the locks, approached the two.

“Well, shall we begin our talk?”

“Sure. What is your request?”

“First of all, can you show me that ring?”

Jhordin extended his hand. After a moment of hesitation, Ronan handed over Sarante’s ring while resting his left hand on his sword handle, ready to react if Jhordin attempted anything untoward.

“Don’t handle it too roughly. It’s something a friend gave me.”

“Of course. But the fact that you consider the giver a friend... that’s quite a valuable connection you have.”Updated from novelb(i)n.c(o)m

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s not easy to be friends with someone who has lived for so long. Seems like well over two thousand years... but he’s not a dragon, he’s an elf. His mana essence is gentle.”

Ronan’s eyes widened. Then, Jhordin proceeded to deduce Sarante’s predominant attributes and magical tendencies when using magic.

“He mainly dealt with wind magic, but he was proficient in various attributes. He was an impressive mage.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I have talents like this, so I make a living doing odd jobs.”

Ronan narrowed his eyes. He had tried to play it cool, but clearly, he was an exceptional individual. After examining the ring carefully, Jhordin spoke.

“Anyway, my request is... to extract a little magic from this ring. Would that be possible?”

“Extracting magic?”

“Yes. I needed the mana of a long-lived race that has been using magic for a long time. It’s essential to my experiments.”

“There are some elves in Philleon, too.”

“No elves have lived this long.”

Judging by the way he spoke, Sarante had lived a long time, even by elven standards. Ronan didn’t have to look hard to realize that he was as excited as a child.

He didn’t know what he was experimenting on, but he was looking for it. Out of nowhere, Ronan snatched the ring from his hand.

“I don’t want to do it.”

His tone sounded as if he was warning against even dreaming about it. Jhordin, with an expressionless face, responded.

“Why?”

“I don’t want to risk damaging the ring. What if something goes wrong?”

“I can assure you that won’t happen. I just need to extract a small amount of magic for the experiment. Even if it slightly diminishes its power, it will quickly restore itself.”

“I still don’t want to do it. I’d rather pay for the entry.”

“Then get out.”

“Sure. Let’s go Adeshan.”

“R-Ronan?”

Adeshan’s eyes widened. Ronan swiftly took a step towards the door, about to reach for the first lock.

“Wait.”

Jhordin’s voice caught his leg. Ronan turned his head, careful not to let his smile slip.

“What?”

“In that case, how about this, I’ll help you wholeheartedly until you solve your problem. And I won’t take any money.”

“What about Adeshan’s problem?”

“That’s a slightly different matter.”

“Goodbye.”

“Do as you wish.”

Eventually, Jhordin surrendered. Ronan spun on his heel and started heading out, a smile starting to creep across his face. Jhordin’s lips twisted as he saw that smile.

Ronan exclaimed. A child, who had been reading a book while seated in the middle of the library, stood up with wide eyes.

“Ronan? Why are you here...”

“It’s been a while, and there’s no time for greetings. Take a look at him.”

“Jhordin? What happened to him?”

“I don’t know. He collapsed suddenly while trying to open my mana.”

“I don’t quite understand what you’re saying. Anyway, let’s see.”

Ronan laid Jhordin on the floor. Since the sun was still up, Sekreet had the appearance of a child. Wrinkles appeared on his young forehead as he placed his hand on Jhordin’s forehead.

“Huh, what a reckless thing to do.”

“Why did this happen?”

“Your curse was transferred in a minuscule amount. I’m going to extract it now.”

Muttering something, Sekreet removed his hand from Jhordin’s forehead. A shadow-like substance, wriggling like a snake, was drawn out of his palm.

“What the hell is that?”

Ronan frowned. It looked like a miniature version of the shadow he had seen in the alternative world.

Sekreet swung his hand as if casting a spell. The wriggling shadow on the floor made eerie sounds as it writhed.

-■■■■!!

At the moment the shadow leaped toward Jhordin again, Ronan pulled out his scabbard.

Swoosh!

Lamancha’s blade made a slashing motion, splitting the shadow in half. Ronan muttered as if chewing on his words.

“Damn it, I’m out of luck this morning.”

-■■....

The shadow disappeared as if blown away by the wind. Jhordin’s convulsions stopped. He hastily sat up and vomited the blood from his mouth.

“Shit, ughhh... damn it...!”

“Jhordin, you got lucky. If you were a bit late, you’d be dead.”

Sekreet handed him a water bottle. Jhordin, sitting on the floor, wiped his mouth and got up. Bloodstains below his nose and eyes were gruesome.

“Phew... did you two know each other before?”

“Yeah. We talked about it once. He said he’s been cursed by something unprecedented.”

“So it was this student, damn it—.”

Ronan arched an eyebrow. Sekeet and Jhordin seemed to have some sort of rapport. They began to discuss the curse upon them. Ronan interrupted, cutting them off.

“What happened, is everything okay now?”

“I see. It’s hard to say I’m alive because of you, because your curse nearly killed me.”

“How did my curse get transferred to the professor?”

“It was my carelessness. Even though it was a powerful curse, I thought it would be fine since it had been deflected once... turned out, it wasn’t.”

Jhordin said the moment he touched Ronan’s mana flow, the curse was transferred. His face was as pale as a corpse, and he wiped away the blood that dripped from his ear while speaking.

“But at least I achieved my goal.”

“Really?”

“To some extent. I succeeded in slightly enhancing your sensory perception. Sekreet, take a look.”

“Alright.”

Sekreet, who had been standing behind him, placed a hand on Ronan’s back, his eyes widening in disbelief.

“Really, Jhordin. How did this happen-!”

“I told you.”

“Ronan. Have you recently met your father?”

“What kind of stupid question is that?”

“Then have you fallen into a pit filled with cursed eyes, or experienced an event significant enough to greatly affect the curse?”

“I haven’t really experienced anything like that.”

Ronan scratched his head as he spoke. While there had been many events, there weren’t any that seemed particularly connected to the curse. At most, he had received a ring from Sarante.

Sekreet spoke up.

“I don’t know why these things are happening, but... the curse seems to have weakened since I last saw it.”

“What?”

“Just as I said. There’s a strange power within you, as peculiar as the curse itself, weakening it. Like a storm gradually eroding a rock.”

Ronan’s eyes widened. Suddenly, he couldn’t make sense of what he was hearing. But the important thing right now wasn’t to understand the cause.

“Then, can I... now manipulate or sense mana?”

“In theory, yes. Since Jhordin managed to clear that blocked path. However, this particular curse isn’t something that can be fixed immediately. To fully control mana, you’ll have to gradually weaken the curse, almost like peeling off layers of an onion.”

Sekreet was looking at Ronan, his eyes filled with amazement, as if he had just witnessed a miracle. Ronan couldn’t hide his excitement either.

Finally, he had managed to retrieve the sword technique that even those less skilled than monkeys used.

In an elated voice, Ronan asked, “How long will it take?”

“Assuming consistent training every day... I think about 20 years should do.”

“Damn, 20 years?”

Ronan’s face stiffened. He had only been expecting maybe a year at most, but twenty years? It was enough time for those bald men who went around the world destroying everything to have a family, build a house, and settle down.

Ronan was about to say something when Jhordin, who had been sitting silently, spoke up.

“...No, it won’t take that long.”