30 Years Have Passed Since the Prologue

No blinding flashes or spectacular explosions occurred, as expected when something detonates. What lurks beneath the ground, where groundwater flows, causing such an eruption?

Crack, crack, crack…!

Despite the absence of visible explosions, vibrations reverberate, filling the subterranean expanse with a force indicative of extensive destruction.

Ivan pivoted, wielding an axe.

“…!!!!”

Elpheira screamed, her face a mix of horror, anger, and bewilderment, her voice muffled.

Ah, the hearing block.

However, there was no time for contemplation. Even without a detonation, the resounding noise permeated the entire underground space, disrupting concentration beyond the threshold.

“Deploy the protective spell.”

Ivan calmly directed the elf, adjusting his stance.

Crackle, crackle, crackle—the earth trembled, and cracks emerged where his feet pressed.

“It’s collapsing soon.” (Ivan)

“…!! !!! …!?”

She possessed expertise in protective magic; no doubt about that.

His concern stemmed from the possibility that she might not hear his order. Unless that were the case, there was no need for apprehension.

He extended his arm, encircling Elpheira’s waist.

“!!!?!”

So, from the start, it is your intention?! Rapist!! This bastard human!

Ivan wasn’t sure of her exact words, but they seemed to be elf-like curses.

“Protective spell,” Ivan said close to her ear, succinctly adding, “And do not close your eyes.”

He motioned toward the base of the cliff.

“If you sense a flow of magic, don’t let go. Attend to what you must, for everything else falls under my responsibility.” (Ivan)

He doesn’t know how much impact the protective spell can handle. Veolgrin’s could withstand at least one blow from a Seven-Dragon Strike.

Even if it’s not at that level, he believed it could at least block small gravel hitting the body.

With that belief, Ivan felt a strange sense of levitation above the abyss where darkness unfolded, looking up at the ceiling.

– Crackle Crackle Crackle…!!

Another earthquake occurred, and the explosive site, which had been creating precarious cracks, burst.

Soil and massive rocks began to pour down into the abyss behind them.

***

“Don’t close your eyes…?”

Elpheira, shedding tears while struggling against this madman—no, old man-monkey (neither fit exactly), tried hard not to close her eyes.

The wind poured on her face. Her once proud hair was now heavily soiled with dust, sticking to her face in the wind.

Ugh, ugh!

In a situation where even breathing was difficult, the overwhelming noise reverberating throughout the entire cave, the continuous descent with no ground beneath, and a sense of levitation—it was almost a miracle that the protective spell succeeded in such circumstances.

To muster more concentration seemed impossible.

“There’s no way I can do this!!”

If a human with even a hint of knowledge about the mysteries and wisdom of magic were here, they wouldn’t dare utter such words. What on earth is this foolish monkey…

– If you’re at least half as capable as your father, your skill is more than enough.”l

‘Ah…’

He claimed to stand on the same battlefield as his father, although there was no sense of confidence in his awkward demeanor.

The reason she followed him to this place was Istvelfen eldest son’s assurance.

Naturally, it was likely a lie, but it could provide a political leverage on the leader of the secret assembly. That’s what she had agreed to with that level of determination.

However, seeing this situation, the idea that it might be a lie doesn’t come to mind.

If someone can withstand such destruction with their bare body, it’s more than enough to have stood by her father’s side during the past racial war and beyond.

That means…

‘If it were your father, he would have easily handled something like this.’

That’s the implication—trust in her abilities.

Just as she trusted Oswald Istvelfen’s assurance and followed him.

This man was indicating that he believed in the abilities of “Veolgrin Grykencos.”

‘If it were my father, my father would have succeeded…’

Elpheira struggled to open her eyes. The wind relentlessly lashed her face, but she forcibly raised the corners of her eyes, tear-streaked and swollen.

She is an elf.

An elf of the Kallion Archipelago, the noblest and most powerful race in the world. Among these elves, she is the daughter of Veolgrin, one of the most outstanding magicians since the mythical era.

Recalling the words her father always used to say in her childhood:

“Magic is the study of turning fantasies into reality.”

“Elpheira, magic erects a staircase for mortals trudging on the earth to ascend to the divine.”

“So, create an aspiration.”

“Heaven (天)….”

Elpheira murmured, glaring at the high ceiling of the abyss, imagining a sky.

With magical power to ascend to the heavens.

“Earth (地)….”

Standing on the ground, stepping on the red soil, yet keeping her heart straight. So.

Man (人). Erecting the aspiration of mortals and walking the stairs of determination towards the sky, taking one more step forward.

Heaven and Earth and Man. The process that unifies the Three Realms of thought is the fundamental principle of magic devised by Veolgrin.

“Kyaahhh!!”

In that moment of casting the spell, a massive rock was already descending and impaling itself above her head.

She desperately twisted her body to avoid it, but it was an impossible task. This place was in the middle of a cliff. She was falling.

There was no time to cast levitation magic. The protective spell couldn’t withstand a rock of that size!

She was going to die.

Sudden terror blinded her vision. The composure she had been trying to regain, piecing together her magical strength, scattered.

She trembled in fear, helplessly watching the approaching death.

And then,

-Kwaaaahhh!!!

The axe blade cut through the air. The rock, with just that single strike, turned into countless gravel, scattering weakly in all directions.

Amidst the downpour of gravel, she still trembled with the remaining fear.

At that moment, a voice, low and calm, completely unfitting for this situation, and therefore even more distinct, echoed in her ears.

“Erect your determination. Weave magic, and discern the magic in this space.”

“But, but how am I supposed to do that! I, I am. I am…!”

“Elpheira.”

“Uh…?”

A firm hand was wrapped around her waist.

On her slender and agile waist, shivering with fear, it was firm, sturdy, as if promising to dispel this fear.

Unconsciously, Elpheira leaned on this warm body, still trembling.

The voice continued. Low, husky, and gentle.

“Embrace the fantasy and make it reality.”

“That… what does that mean…?”

“Discard the thought of being Veolgrin’s daughter. You are sufficiently complete on your own. Elpheira. Look at yourself and build your determination on the earth.”

“You… you…!”

“Everything else is not your concern. Your safety, your life, your fear. Entrust them all to me. That’s my role. You just need to do what you can.”

That’s the only thing expected of you.

Everything else is my responsibility.

Amidst the swaying vision, only the vividly burning blue eyes were fixed on her.

“Just as I trust you, you must trust me. Just like Beolgrin did. I have never failed in my duty even in front of your father.”

“Y-Your name… at least your name.”

With a man like this, there’s no way her father wouldn’t have mentioned him at least once. Elpheira, feeling somehow relieved even in this situation, mumbled that she needed to hear this man’s name to feel reassured.

Ivan casually turned his gaze. Knocking away another falling rock, he whispered softly.

“Ivan.”

“… A somewhat indifferent name for a pseudonym, you know.”

“I know.”

“You, human…”

In Krasilov, Ivan is the most common name. It’s a common name given to children in peasant households, nobility, and even though it’s now an outdated name, it’s still not an uncommon name for children of farmers.

But that’s enough. Elpheira smiled contentedly.

Entrusting her life, solely trusting.

The only thing expected of her is to find a single strand of magical power.

It’s not a difficult task. Even this seemingly difficult task is not as challenging as the name Veolgrin, or rather, the name elf cries out.

Elpheira. The flower of the fairies. If she received such a name from the most magnificent man in Kalion, she had to prove it.

Weaving magic.

Erecting determination, constructing stairs to the heavens.

A bridge to the ground, aspirations rising, reaching the great heavens.

The mystery of magic, the origin of that divine power, is always the sky. Seeking the ancient wisdom beyond that sky.

Weaving magical power to understand the essence of the world.

Creating reality out of the fantasies, vague dreams, and the imaginary musings in her mind.

“Look…!”

“Where?”

“Front, straight ahead…!”

“Where exactly in the front.”

“The entire front!! Right in front of me!!”

-Whoooooo….

Even as she fell, she felt a powerful storm. The magic revealed a gigantic whirlpool and the wind of illusion tangled in her mind.

How could she not have noticed this? No, it’s not that she didn’t notice.

This is a type of magic that reveals itself only to those who can perceive it.

“My God… this scale… this sophistication…!” (Elpheira)

A cerulean magical curtain was undulating right in front of her.

In the overwhelming scenery opposite the dark cliff, Elpheira stared blankly, forgetting to even close her eyes.

“Excellent.”

Ivan’s voice briefly echoed above her.

Soon, Ivan flew through the shattered rocks, traversing between them.

Held in his arms, Elpheira screamed anew, trembling in the approaching magical power.