Swords and Magic, and the Flame Burning in the Heart ~The Fateful Path of the Hero and the Mage~ - The Secret of the Forbidden Library and the Moonlight Confession

My shoulder ached with a dull, persistent throb. The treatment room of the Holy Luminalis Cathedral was filled with white walls, white sheets, and white light. Beyond the window stretched the morning view of the royal capital Luminalis. The "City of Light"—with its pure white stone buildings standing in neat rows—felt somehow distant to Aruto now. The retreat from the Miasma Valley had been, honestly, a disaster. The sensation of blocking Zarg's greatsword still lingered in his bones. He'd moved on instinct then, but now that he was resting, his body was gradually crying out in pain. The inside of the bandage on his right shoulder had been hot since last night. The priest entered the treatment room about twenty minutes after Aruto had started staring at the ceiling. He was a young man, dressed properly in the white vestments of the Holy Light Order. The healing staff in his hand glowed faintly gold in the window's light. "Now then, let me examine it again," With careful hands, he unwrapped the bandage and inspected the wound. The next moment, the priest's brows furrowed deeply. Even with repeated applications of light-attribute recovery magic—the healing technique the Holy Light Order specialized in—the center of the wound simply wouldn't heal. Something faintly blackened was smoldering deep within the injury. "...There is curse poison remaining. It was applied to a monster's claws. It's a type of curse that light-attribute magic cannot fully remove. Complete healing will require several months of rest," Several months. Aruto turned the words over in his mind. "What?" "Intense combat is absolutely forbidden. The poison may spread with every movement, so—" "Wait, you said several months, right!?" He sprang up. Forcefully. The edge of the bandage pulled taut. "Don't move!!" "But Zarg won't wait that long! The ritual in the Miasma Valley is progressing, isn't it!?" "That's exactly why you mustn't move—hold still there—!" For several minutes, the treatment room witnessed a rather pathetic scene: the priest pressing down on Aruto's shoulders with both hands while Aruto thrashed about in resistance. In the end, Aruto was pinned to the bed. The priest caught his breath and rewrapped the bandage. His touch had become somewhat rough—and that was definitely not his imagination. "If I continue applying recovery magic, I can halt the poison's progression in about a month. Complete healing will take several more weeks after that. Please, do not overexert yourself," "...Yes," His reply was obedient, at least. What he was thinking internally was another matter entirely. --- The party members gathered at the adventurer's guild "Wings of the Vanguard" had spread a map across the table and were discussing their next strategy seriously. How should they proceed from here? Since they'd failed to defeat Zarg, they needed to devise new countermeasures for the Miasma Valley. Aruto had just returned from the treatment room as the discussion was reaching its peak. "Where's Rushian?" Everyone exchanged glances. "...Solo action again. I seriously don't know what that guy's thinking," "Haven't seen him since this morning," Aruto's brow furrowed. Rushian was always like that. No explanation, no apology—he'd just vanish. From last night's camp to this morning's retreat, it had been the same. All the party members had half-resigned themselves to accepting "that's just how he is," but something about it nagged at Aruto. (Where did he go...) Even as he lay in the treatment room staring at the white ceiling, Aruto couldn't get it out of his head. --- The Holy Luminalis Cathedral in the royal capital housed a branch of the Mage Council's forbidden archive, established by agreement between the kingdom and the Holy Light Order. The Mage Council's main headquarters was in the academic city of Magis, but some materials were kept here to maintain relations with the kingdom. Normally, it was a place no one could approach. Rushian was not normal. He calculated the guard rotation with cold precision and slipped inside without a sound. He found the shelf of forbidden arts without hesitation. His long black hair swayed quietly behind his shoulders. His silver eyes swept rapidly across the spines of the books. He pulled out the parchment he sought. Soul Bind—a forbidden spell that used the caster's life force directly as fuel to forcibly heal the target's wounds or illness. It was prohibited not just by the Mage Council, but by every organization. The moment he opened the parchment, there was a hastily scrawled note beside the spell's text. Written in red ink, struck down violently, was a single line. —Uses the caster's life force directly as fuel. A single minor wound may consume days of lifespan; removing a severe curse could cost years. Rushian's fingertips stopped for just an instant. The hand holding the parchment trembled faintly. The next moment, he picked up a quill and began copying the spell formula. His expression was emotionless. Unwavering. Only his hand—barely perceptibly, but certainly—trembled as it moved, enduring the strain. If Aruto couldn't fight for several months and Zarg moved, there would be no one to protect him. That urgency and the resolve to save Aruto in the only way he could—without a single word spoken—dwelled entirely in that trembling hand. --- As Aruto rested in the treatment room bed, the High Priest Raphael came to visit. The elderly high priest had a serene bearing where his white hair and white vestments seemed to blend together. But his eyes were sharp. The eyes of someone who had led the Holy Light Order for years—a mixture of mercy and severity. "How are you feeling, Hero?" "Thank you for asking. The priest has been very thorough in his care," "That is good to hear," The high priest paused briefly, then continued in his calm tone. "There is something I must inform you of. Recently, we've confirmed multiple signs that the seal's power is weakening," Aruto's hand stopped. "The great demon lord sealed away 500 years ago by the Seven Heroes—his remnants seem to be stirring in slumber. We've been observing faint waves of darkness periodically from the direction of the Sealing Tower. The Order is considering countermeasures, but..." "Is that being influenced by Zarg's activities?" "...It may be more than that," The high priest's words fell quietly. "There is a possibility that an entity resonating with the seal in some way exists near us," Aruto couldn't immediately grasp the meaning of those words. He only felt a premonition of something vast beginning to move, spreading slowly through his chest. After the high priest left, silence returned to the treatment room. Aruto stared at the ceiling for a while. (Where did Rushian go...) Muttering this, Aruto sat up, bandages and all. He ignored the priest's flustered calls to stop, making excuses about his legs still working despite his shoulder pain, and slipped out of the cathedral. --- Walking around the royal capital turned out to be harder than expected. First, he tried the adventurer's guild "Wings of the Vanguard." The receptionist shook her head. "That scary-looking silver-haired guy? Haven't seen him today." Next, the tavern "Sunny Pavilion." The owner Marsha laughed heartily. "Now that you mention it, I haven't seen him. Want some honey-glazed roast? It'll perk you up." "I'll come back another time..." He declined and kept walking. He circled the central plaza's fountain. Asked merchants, asked passersby—all dead ends. (Where does that guy keep disappearing to...!) Aruto clutched his head and sighed dramatically. His shoulder throbbed. But he couldn't stop. He suddenly remembered hearing about an old stone magic tower on the outskirts of the royal capital. A tower long abandoned, practically a ruin. If someone wanted to practice magic without being seen, they'd choose a place away from prying eyes. If it was him—his baseless intuition told him so. The stairs were old and creaked. Dusty. He climbed along the stone wall, up and up. His legs still worked despite his shoulder pain, but he felt his stamina being drained bit by bit with each landing. He reached the rooftop. Night wind hit his face. The moon was out. Round and white, softly illuminating the royal capital's nightscape. Moonlight fell quietly onto the stone pavement of the rooftop. And there—Rushian was. His jet-black long hair swayed in the night breeze. Bound behind him, yet several strands fell forward, hanging across his forehead. He repeatedly deployed complex magical circles on the ground, then dispelled them, then deployed them again. The patterns were completely different from the ice magic circles Aruto knew. With each activation, Rushian's face twisted in pain for just a moment. "What are you doing?" Rushian's movements stopped. "...None of your concern," He immediately dispelled the spell formula and turned away. "You're looking for a way to heal my wound, aren't you?" Rushian's shoulders went rigid. They stayed rigid. One second. Two seconds. Only the night wind blew between them. It was a direct hit. For the first time, Rushian seemed at a loss for words. Aruto, seeing his profile frozen like that, continued quietly. "Rushian. You sacrifice yourself too much. I want you to live," "...Why?" His voice was low and hoarse. "I have only been cold to you," "Because you're my comrade," Under the moonlight, Aruto spoke plainly. "And besides...I'm lonely without you," As soon as he said it, his ears burned. Words he hadn't even known he was thinking tumbled out of his mouth. His cheeks felt hot too. Aruto looked away, but his awareness remained fixed on Rushian. Rushian slowly turned around. His transparent silver eyes looked at Aruto's face. Wide open—Aruto had never seen him make this expression before. Between them, only the wind blew. Rushian couldn't speak. He was searching for words. But couldn't find them. He only kept staring at Aruto's face, and in that silence dwelled something entirely different from his usual coldness. Then, finally. "...Go back. Your wound," That was all he said, in a low voice. Aruto smiled slightly. He nodded—yes—and descended the tower stairs. Rushian turned away again, looking down at the ground. His hand—still trembling faintly. --- Back at the inn, Aruto lay down in the same room as his party members. They seemed exhausted and soon began breathing deeply in sleep. Aruto closed his eyes too. The pain in his shoulder faded. Rushian's profile in the moonlight floated behind his eyelids. That trembling hand, those rigid shoulders—he couldn't forget them. Eventually, he fell asleep. --- Deep in the night, a presence entered the room. Almost soundless. Careful footsteps that held their breath. A single shadow wove between the sleeping party members and approached Aruto's side. It was Rushian. His jet-black long hair swayed in the darkness. Moonlight from the window fell in thin lines, illuminating his silver eyes. He held his hand over Aruto's shoulder. A complex pattern spread silently. In the darkness, the magical circle of the forbidden spell Soul Bind deployed. A color mixing deep darkness and light, unlike normal magic. From Aruto's shoulder wound, the blackened curse poison was drawn out like mist—toward Rushian's fingertips, slowly, so slowly. In that moment, Rushian's face contorted. He pressed his hand to his mouth. To keep his voice from escaping. A cold that felt like heat draining from his entire body ran through him. The sensation of lifespan being consumed was like this, apparently. A quiet coldness, like sinking into ice water. Yet he didn't remove his hand. When the purification was complete, Aruto's shoulder wound had vanished without a trace. Rushian looked at Aruto's sleeping face for a moment. Just one second. Only one second. At that peaceful, sleeping face, he simply

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Episode 3

Name: Swords and Magic, and the Flame Burning in the Heart ~The Fateful Path of the Hero and the Mage~
Author: Novelia

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