Chapter 187: Mother of Fire (3)

Chapter 187: Mother of Fire (3)

"Ah, dammit."

Ronan's eyes widened as he looked inside the box. Inside the silk-lined interior lay black and semi-transparent shards of metal, remnants of Lamancha that had been shattered during the fight with Darman.

"Well, they managed to find it,"

Ronan murmured with a mixture of admiration in his voice. Honestly, he had thought they would never find it amidst the massive collapse. The sight of Parzan officials still working tirelessly like mules was a comforting thought, even if he couldn't see them.

Carefully, he wrapped the shards in the silk spread on the floor. It was a bit disappointing, but it was a good outcome. The shell of Cita was a precious material that couldn't be replaced. Surely, there would be opportunities for recycling.

'Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to visit a different blacksmith this time, instead of Doron. But...'

Ronan raised an eyebrow. The box was unreasonably heavy for its contents. The cause became apparent as soon as he removed the compartment containing Lamancha's fragments; another space revealed itself beneath.

"Why did they send so much?"

White metal shards were piled up haphazardly. Each piece seemed quite hefty, giving off a starkly contrasting impression compared to Lamancha. It was undoubtedly the wreckage of Ymir, destroyed in the battle against Darman.

'I can't use this.'

Ronan chuckled as he examined the shards. Though he had received them as a favor, even to his untrained eye, their condition seemed far from favorable. Unlike Lamancha, which could potentially be restored into a weapon, it seemed like everything here needed to be melted down and repurposed entirely.

One fortunate aspect was that the hilt seemed intact. Ronan untied the bandages wrapped around it.

Material made from ripped pages of Virja. Perhaps the power resonating with his second core stemmed from here. Reflecting on the word "resonance," Ronan flicked his fingers.

'It might be useful after all.'

If his thoughts played out as he envisioned, there could be decent recycling potential. The power Ymir possessed was ultimately a type of shared sense.

Ronan promptly drafted a production request to be sent to Gran Cappadocia. It was intended for individuals like Iril and Lucy, innocent and good-hearted. He didn't know when he would leave Philleon again, so it was prudent to hurry the production process.

When Ronan removed the compartment containing Ymir's shards, the floor was revealed. A piece of parchment was spread out like a mat.

'What's this now?'

Ronan picked up the parchment.

- To the owner of the Holy Sword. Participant 44.

Allogin's letter was concise. In just a few lines, he expressed gratitude for saving himself and Parzan, along with a brief update. It was straightforward, making it easy to read without any unnecessary formalities.

As Ronan had anticipated, the elders took the recent attack very seriously. Information about Nebula Clazier and their special organization, Lycopos, was relayed to every continent.

It was mentioned that the sword Darman used and the bodies of his followers were collected and undergoing analysis. Ronan nodded satisfactorily.

'I hope something useful comes out of the analysis.'

The letter concluded with a promise that he'd come visit the Holy Sword once the situation was resolved. Despite the messy handwriting and brevity, it carried sincere sentiments. Suddenly, a postscript caught Ronan's attention.

- I'll introduce you to a suitable forge for the Holy Sword. I'll send a map along with it.

Following that was a mention that he and other elders had included letters of recommendation. Below the letter was a map indicating the forge's location. Given that the coastline was to the north, it seemed to be situated in Heiran, the northernmost part of the continent, as mentioned above.

"The north, huh?"

Ronan rubbed his chin, intrigued. If swordsmen who once dominated the past era esteemed it so highly, the forge must be quite remarkable.

Although he had spent some time in the north in his past life as a Punishment Soldier, he had never ventured as far as Heiran. It was Adeshan's homeland, and once the territory occupied by the Beastmen Alliance led by Zaifa. Somehow, he had a premonition that his next destination had already been decided.

'I guess I'll have to get a set of leather armor.'

When he took out the map, the box was empty. Ronan quickly wrote a reply to Allogin and prepared to go out. Though there was still some time left, it was better to set off sooner rather than later to secure a good spot.

"Well then, shall I go?"

Having finished his preparations, Ronan set off. As he stepped out of the dormitory, a golden light poured over his face. The weather was warm, but the wind felt cool. It was reminiscent of the day he had entered the academy.

****

As usual, the entrance ceremony for the 780th batch was held in the main square. Stands and platforms conjured by Katir's magic were already set up.

Members of the Elite Adventure Club had already taken the front rows of the stand. Aselle, noticing Ronan, waved his hand.

"R-Ronan! Over here!"

"You're here early."

Ronan sat down next to Aselle. Normally, only second-year students, excluding freshmen, were expected to attend, but if there were no classes, students were free to watch the ceremony.

Marya was nervously biting her thumbnail, her expression tense. Shullifen, who was absent during the sparring with Ronan, sat quietly with his arms crossed, as if he had received the information.

Even Ophelia, who would usually be sleeping, seemed to be nodding off while sitting up, indicating her curiosity about Navardose. Marya turned to Ronan and spoke.

"Ronan. Is it really true that the dragon is coming? I haven't heard anything."

"Me neither. It's strange that a graduating class would attend an entrance ceremony."

Braum nodded in agreement. It seemed they were the only ones aware of Navardose's impending arrival.

Despite the approaching start time, the students were still entering the grandstand with a relaxed attitude. Observing the relatively calm scene, Ronan whistled.

"Katir really outdid himself with the preparations."

There was quite a distance from the speculation that there wouldn't be any room to move. Controlling information even among students seemed far-fetched. Besides, if they had caused a commotion by revealing it, it would have caused various problems. As Ronan looked around the grandstand, he chuckled.

"Hmm?"

At the front row, there was a gentleman wearing a coat, sitting about five seats away from Ronan, reading a newspaper. Despite a stylish top hat covering his eyes, Ronan recognized him immediately.

"Ha, dammit."

Ronan couldn't help but chuckle in disbelief. Whether he intended to conceal himself or not was unclear. Rising quietly from his seat, he made his way towards the gentleman. Shullifen glanced at Ronan and spoke.

"Where are you going?"

"I'll be back in just a moment. Don't worry about me, so just focus on the ceremony."

Nonchalantly, Ronan plopped down beside the gentleman in the coat. Instantly, an intense aura surrounded him from all directions.

Looking around, Ronan noticed people of various appearances glaring at him. Kind-looking parents, cleaning maids, and even some students. The gentleman spoke first.

"The weather is nice, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is."

"Your expression seems subtle. Is something on your mind?"

Ronan chuckled at the question. What was this man really up to? Well, he had to play along until he was satisfied.

"I was just reminded of three years ago. Back then, my sister sat here and watched me enter the academy."

"Haha, that must be nostalgic. You look quite mature, so what brings you here?"

"A friend of mine is entering, so I came to watch. His mother is a great noblewomen, but she insisted on attending as a parent, causing me quite a bit of trouble."

"Is that so... Seems like we're in similar situations."

The gentleman let out a subdued laugh. Ronan couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Without turning his head, the gentleman continued speaking.

"It's quite refreshing to see you like this, Your Majesty."

"I simply couldn't afford not to come."

The Emperor disguised as a gentleman flipped through a newspaper. At that moment, the intense aura that had been piercing Ronan softened. Those who had been glaring at him now seemed to be playing their assigned roles as if nothing had happened.

"What's with this... I mean, your appearance?"

"Doesn't it suit me? I've always wanted to try something like this."

"What about the Empire?"

"Seeing the Mother of Fire is a part of my royal duty, is it? Well... I consider it quite an important matter, though."

"I see."

Ronan nodded. It was an irrefutable argument.

Balon 44th had attended the entrance ceremony in disguise. He wanted to see Navardose, but didn't want to cause a commotion. Around him, dozens of imperial guards disguised themselves to perform their escort duties.

"It's fortunate that you seem to be recovering well. I was worried."

"I may have overdone it a bit. My apologies... um, is this how you do it?"

"Usually, you don't cross your legs like that. And you should take your hands out of your pockets."

"Ahaha."

"Of course, it doesn't matter for the current me, as I am Denifer Roaster, a member of the Merchant Guild."

The Emperor chuckled softly, seeming quite immersed in the role-playing. A few bodyguards standing directly behind him stared at Ronan as if they wanted to kill him.

"I read your report well. You've made remarkable contributions from your first mission."

"You flatter me."

"I should acknowledge your efforts. Let me know if you need anything."

"I don't particularly need anything... I'll think about it slowly."

Ronan shook his head. It seemed like a lot of people were eager to give away things these days, including Navardose. About thirty minutes later, the grandstand was filled with spectators.

The second-year students, who would surprise the freshmen with a warm welcome, were lined up on one side of the main square. Before long, the fresh-faced newcomers stepped into the square, as if bursting with energy, despite some still carrying traces of winter's grasp.

"Oh, they're here."

Some of them were seen when the continent was still engulfed in winter. Itargand was walking casually, blending in with the crowd.

'Something interesting must be happening.'

It was much more interesting than receiving new recruits in the Punishment Squad, who might even die tomorrow. Katir, standing on the podium, addressed the freshmen.

"Welcome, everyone. I am Krava Katir, the current principal of Philleon Academy."

Cheers erupted. It seemed they had managed to resolve things somehow, judging by the improved expressions. Navardose had yet to appear. Behind him stood a tense group of faculty members, presumably having heard the news.

"Before we begin the entrance ceremony, I would like to introduce someone to you. Please welcome our distinguished guest who has come from afar. Let's greet them with a big round of applause."

"A guest?"

"Who could it be?"

The previously calm grandstand started to buzz with curiosity. Katir let out a meaningful laugh, suggesting he had planned something.

Suddenly turning, he reached out towards an empty space next to him. Suddenly, as if materializing out of thin air, a majestic chair reminiscent of a throne appeared. Katir, with a slight pause, began speaking.

"Now, let's welcome them. The Primordial Flame and the Wings of the Divine, Navar... Hmm?"

"What?"

Ronan furrowed his brows. Katir, who was speaking, froze. The chair was there, but Navardose, who should have been sitting on it, was nowhere to be seen. Katir couldn't hide his confusion and muttered.

"H-hold on, where did he...?"

The faculty members began to murmur as well. Something was going wrong. It was supposed to be a speech directed towards the bewildered freshmen. Pwaaah! Suddenly, a gigantic magic circle appeared in the sky above the main square. Simultaneously, a mana storm swept through the square.

"Aaarghhh!"

"Wh-what's happening all of a sudden?!"

Screams erupted from all over. The transparent barrier that Katir had set up for the surprise welcome shattered into pieces. The second-year students, now revealed, were in disarray.

"Th-the barrier?!"

"My club's promotional banner is flying away!"

It was utter chaos. The sudden appearance of the seniors startled the freshmen, but unfortunately, there were far too many sources of astonishment at the moment.

The gigantic magic circle, large enough to cover the entire field of vision, had individual lines glowing like lava. Soon, the center of the magic circle opened up, revealing the head of a massive dragon. The sheer size, surpassing that of most buildings, overwhelmed even Katir, who ended up screaming in terror.

"Aaaah!"

"...Mom."

Itargand, looking up at the sky, muttered in disbelief. Now, people were fainting left and right.

Then, from the rolling eyes of the dragon, a bright flash emitted. For a moment, everyone in the main square closed their eyes.

When they opened them again, they saw a woman sitting in the vacant chair. Her red dress and her hair flowing gracefully down her shoulders, shimmering in a color reminiscent of the dragon's scales seen just moments ago. She looked down at Katir haughtily and spoke.

[I apologize. Something urgent came up, so I had to deal with it.]

Silence fell. Katir's face turned pale. It seemed like the performance was quite different from what had been agreed upon.

"Uh... uhh..."

Though it seemed like all was lost, as an adult, he had a responsibility to handle the situation. Katir, with a forced smile, turned to the freshmen.

"Everyone please welcome... Lady Navardose."