<Lucion?>
The moment Lucion heard Novio’s voice, he found himself at a loss for words. A strange urge rose within him to spill everything—to share all he had done and everything that had happened.
“Yes, Father. It’s me, Lucion.”
<How are you feeling? Were you scared or startled? Are you hurt? Did you sleep well? Have you eaten?>
Novio’s questions weren’t specific; they were brimming with concern, revealing his constant worry about whether Lucion might have been frightened or harmed.
A small smile crept onto Lucion’s face, unbidden.
“I’m perfectly fine. It’s just that the magic tower has been quite chaotic because of this mission, so I might be delayed in coming home.”
<As long as you’re safe, that’s all that matters to me. Take your time coming back, just make sure you return healthy. By the way, have you happened to meet that warlock named Hamel?>
‘Father, I am… that warlock.’
<That warlock has been verified by the king, so if you do meet him, don’t be too afraid.>
“What do you think of Hamel, Father?”
Ratta blinked her eyes and perked up her ears at the unexpected question.
Novio seemed momentarily taken aback but eventually responded, his voice contemplative.
<It may sound odd, but I feel… sorry for him.>
“He’s a warlock, though,” Lucion probed.
<That’s precisely why. Despite achieving enough to be acknowledged by the king, he has to hide his identity behind a mask. If only…>
Lucion felt a pang of unease.
<If only that person were someone I knew, I’d just hug them without saying a word.>
‘Thank you. Thank you, Father.’
Lucion’s chest tightened. His father hadn’t changed from the person he was in the previous world—clumsy in expressing affection but deeply caring all the same.
<Anyway, you’ve done well. Good job, Lucion. I’m proud of you.>
Novio’s warm words filled Lucion with a deep sense of comfort.
“Father, may I speak a bit longer? I don’t want to disturb you…”
<If it’s your story, I could listen all day without tiring. Speak as much as you like, Lucion.>
Novio gladly permitted.
In response, Lucion smiled and immediately spoke with an excited voice.
* * *
[Do you have something on your mind?]
Bethel glanced at Russell as the two sat on a ledge protruding from the tower.
Lucion was resting on the fifth floor, and the lower levels were cluttered with light-imbued items, making it uncomfortable for them to venture down.
[A ghost.]
[You’re already a ghost.]
Bethel chuckled lightly at Russell’s answer.
[Bethel.]
[Go ahead. Say whatever’s on your mind. I’ll listen.]
Bethel swung her legs back and forth casually.
[What if… you thought someone was dead, but they turned out to be alive?]
[Did Lord Lucion say something like that?]
[He told me not to die.]
Russell’s bitter chuckle made Bethel pause mid-swing.
Thinking of Lucion who would say such things, she calmly began to speak.
[By thinking they were dead, are you referring to the current situation?]
[Yes.]
[Hmm. It would certainly be shocking.]
[Right?]
[But at first, I’d be incredibly happy. After all, they’re alive, aren’t they? At the same time, there would be fear—fear of losing them again. And if someone was thought dead but is actually alive, wouldn’t that imply something went terribly wrong? Their living body might not even be normal.]
Bethel finished her thoughts with an awkward smile.
[Sorry. I rambled too much.]
[No, it’s fine. It’s amusing that I even considered such a hypothetical situation.]
Russell turned his gaze to the surreal view of the Sea of Death merging with the ordinary sea.
[Russell.]
[Yes?]
[There’s no miracle that brings the dead back to life. You know that better than anyone.]
[That’s true.]
[But Russell.]
Bethel frowned slightly.
[Lord Lucion recalled a memory where you… disappeared. Yet here you are, right beside me. Why would he think of such a memory?]
It was odd for Bethel to think of Lucion imagining something baseless, as he wasn’t prone to flights of fancy.
Above all, the memory felt far too vivid to dismiss as mere imagination.
But Bethel soon fell silent.
She realized that she had touched upon a subject that she shouldn’t have, seeing Russell’s distorted expression.
[Bethel.]
[Yeah?]
[Can you wait… just a little longer?]
Russell also wanted to confide everything to Bethel. However, he was worried about whether she could handle it and what Lucion would think. It was such a complicated situation that there were truths Russell couldn’t decide on his own.
[Of course. I can wait as long as you need. So don’t feel pressured, and don’t feel like you have to tell me anything.]
Bethel offered a reassuring smile.
[Thank you, Bethel.]
Russell managed a faint smile in return.
* * *
Two days later.
“Phew.” Lucion exhaled deeply as he donned the new mask Kran had brought him.
“This mask was crafted by Miella, who spent several nights perfecting it. Reint and the mercenaries collaborated to replicate the effects of the previous mask, and Peter added defensive magic to make it even stronger.”
As Lucion adjusted the mask, his hair began to shift to a deep, dark red.
―Whoa! It’s Hamel! Hamel!
Ratta hopped in excitement, circling around him.
[It’s done perfectly.]
At Russell’s satisfied comment, Lucion finally realized there was one thing left he needed to apologize for.
“I’m sorry, Teacher. I ended up breaking your item…”
[It’s fine. So what if the mask is damaged? No need to apologize.]
Russell lightly tapped Lucion’s forehead.
[If you really feel sorry, just lie down on the bed.]
“Russell-nim is right. It’s only been two days since you started walking again. I knew this would happen, but it still feels too soon.” Hume let out an exasperated sigh.
“You’re starting to sound like Kran.” Lucion chuckled, remembering how Kran had sighed even louder during his visit yesterday while gripping the mask tightly.
“But I hesitate to give you this mask, Hamel-nim. You need it, but if I hand it over, you’ll probably move right away. And I can’t ignore that because I know you would go even if you had to wear a wooden mask. Haah.”
Lucion laughed again.
“Young Master.”
“Yes?”
“You’re such a troublemaker.”
“…?”
[Hahaha!]
Lucion froze in place, and Russell burst out laughing.
[You called him a troublemaker. Hahaha!]
It must have been funny since Russell rolled around in the air in laughter.
“Did I choose the wrong words?” Hume blinked at Bethel, who was shaking slightly, trying to suppress her laughter beneath her helmet.
“Did you read that somewhere?” Lucion asked, glaring as he removed the mask.
“Yes. It described a child who is strong-willed, unpredictable, and leaves chaos in their wake.”
“Thanks, Hume.”
“I wasn’t sure about calling you a ‘child,’ but I think it fits well enough,” Hume said, laughing.
Lucion was amused, knowing Hume had no ill intent. He looked at Russell, who couldn’t tell if he was laughing or crying.
“If it’s this time, neither my sister nor brother will be coming. So let’s just wait for now.”
“Young Master.”
“It’ll only take a moment. We need to send the ghosts away quickly, right? Delos will find it difficult to come here.”
Lucion pointed towards the magic tower, which had become more secure.
“I’m really at a loss in situations like this,” Hume admitted.
“Well, that’s life. It’s always confusing. It sounds like you’re finally living.” Lucion chuckled, patting Hume on the back.
[I’ll go ahead.]
Bethel floated toward the ceiling.
“Ah, Teacher.”
Lucion called Russell again while putting the mask back on. He had been wearing a face that held back something he wanted to say for a while now.
[What is it?]
Russell’s tone was slightly tense.
“I’ve told you this before, but whenever you’re ready, let me know about the memories you’ve recovered.”
[Lucion.]
“Yes, Teacher.”
[Do you remember where my hideout was?]
“Of course. How could I forget? I went there with a hole in my stomach.”
―Ratta remembers too! It was super sad, but also super fun!
Ratta smiled widely with a sparkling ball in her mouth. The ball, newly given by Shaela, sparkled whenever bitten and had completely captivated Ratta.
Roar! Beep!
Shaela deliberately included Ratta’s roar, a detail that always left her in stitches, nearly bringing tears to her eyes from laughter. It was evident that she found it hilariously amusing.
[Then you recall how Bethel got hurt because of the black magic I cast on the room, right?]
“I remember,” Lucion said without hesitation.
Bethel had been attacked when she tried to enter that room.
“I also know the location of that room clearly,” Hume chimed in.
[That’s a relief. It reassures me that you both remember.]
Russell’s genuine relief was evident, but it only deepened Lucion’s curiosity.
“Did you remember how to break the black magic in that room?”
[That’s right. That’s what I wanted to share.]
“But Teacher, why bring it up now?”
Lucion’s suspicion grew. Russell hadn’t mentioned his hideout or the room since their visit. Why now, and why the urgency to undo the black magic? What memory had he recovered?
[Lucion. Hume can’t do it. You’re the only one here who can use black magic.]
“Teacher, you’re here too,” Lucion pointed out.
Russell joked lightly, but Lucion didn’t let it slide. It sounded almost like a will, and Lucion couldn’t bear it.
[Lucion.]
Russell gently called his name and gave him a reassuring tap on the head.
[It’s not a farewell or anything like that. This is something I need to face—for my sake.]
“For… your sake?”
[Yes. As you might have guessed, I’ve regained some of my lost memories. But to confirm them, I need to revisit the hideout.]
“Then let’s go now,” Lucion offered without hesitation.
[The problem is… I lack the courage to confront what I might find. That’s why I’m telling you and Hume about it.]
Russell scratched his forehead awkwardly.
“Understood! I’ll listen carefully,” Lucion said earnestly, setting aside his questions.
Russell smiled, touched by Lucion’s thoughtfulness. The warmth of having such a considerate disciple was a feeling he couldn’t help but cherish.
* * *
Lucion’s violet darkness merged seamlessly with the night, enveloping the magic tower. Since Heint was already aware, the tower remained silent and undisturbed. Lucion had already acquired four black orbs.
As his own darkness grew stronger, he began to slowly understand what he could do. He realized he could extinguish the color of the darkness and sense where hidden darkness currently resided. From the tower, the Sea of Death appeared different than before.
‘There’s something there.’
Something unknown was visible beneath the Sea of Death, and the wails of the corrupted darkness echoed with each wave. Every time Lucion discovered something new, he felt uneasy.
‘All of this is possible because I’m the vessel.’
As the vessel, he didn’t lose control like Hotram, who had gone berserk after acquiring a black orb. Instead, Lucion only felt as though he was suffering from a fever.
‘I don’t like this.’
Lucion remained unsatisfied with being a vessel for someone else. But he knew he needed this power. To avoid death. To be happy without dying, he needed the strength to fight back, no matter who it was.
Lucion firmly grasped his swirling emotions.
‘There’s no need to question it now.’
Questions were merely guesses, so Lucion focused on what he needed to do in the present. He closed his eyes.
He could feel the ghosts wandering through the tower, one by one. Using the darkness that spread throughout the tower, Lucion sent them each a flower-shaped darkness.
The ghosts seemed to find their way, gathering before him, each holding the flowers he had given them.
[Are you… the God of Light?]
A predictable question was asked, and his answer was always the same.
“No, I am a warlock.”
[Mr. Hamel…!]
When one of the organization members among the gathering ghosts recognized him, a wave of guilt washed over Lucion. One by one, he sent them to the sky with the flowers they held in their hands.
Finally, he faced the imperial knights and the Cronia knights. Lucion removed his mask as a courtesy for those going last.
[Lord Lucion.]
They were taken aback, their faces slowly contorting with shock. Lucion was a warlock, the warlock everyone despised.
Yet facing the warlock after death felt surprisingly comforting. The flowers they received, like a gift, were warm. Only now did they realize how comforting it was to share words and meet someone’s gaze.
[I’m sorry. I’m so… sorry, young master. How much… you must have suffered…]
The knights bowed their heads, overcome with guilt.
“Don’t say such things. Thank you for all you’ve done… And I’m sorry.”
Lucion sincerely expressed his gratitude. seaʀᴄh thё NovelZone.fun website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.
[Please don’t feel sorry for our deaths. Are we not proud knights of Cronia?]
[We did what we had to do as imperial knights.]
At the words of the Cronia and imperial knights, Lucion placed his hand on his chest and bowed his head in respect, honoring them as their master.
“You have made me proud, both as my escort and as knights.”
[Yes. That is more than enough. Thank you, young master!]
[Please be happy, young master. Stay well, and be sure to find happiness.]
[We wish you good fortune, Lord Lucion.]
Lucion silently watched as the countless ghosts disappeared. Their final moments were bittersweet and beautiful, like the last flicker of a flame.
‘Now, only three remain.’
Lucion steeled himself, sharpening the blade within his heart.
Neubra.
Nevast.
And Veronia.
‘Now that the Hand of Void is gone, Neubra, you’re my first target.’