She Professed Herself The Pupil Of The Wiseman (LN) - Volume 7 - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

MIRA DREDGED UP her consciousness from the depths of sleep, feeling an odd sensation of floating and sinking at the same time. She slowly opened her eyes and saw a gray-haired, dignified-looking man under the gloom of a dark sky. 

What is going on here?

The mission at the Citadel of Scales had ended in failure due to the unexpected appearance of a Skyfolk man. However, the gang had managed to deduce Chimera Clausen’s next destination from the contents of the corpses’ belongings. As they gave chase, they were forced to take a break on the shore of a lake, and Mira had dozed off in her wagon. 

Now, she found herself in a totally unknown place.

With her brain unable to process the situation at hand, Mira simply glared at the man unhappily as he politely carried her in his arms like a princess.

“Is this a kidnapping?” she grumbled groggily.

Noticing that she’d awoken, the man smiled affably and answered with a slight bow, “Don’t worry. I’m not dangerous.”

Mira found that to be an entirely unsatisfactory answer. He had stolen her away in her sleep—how could he not be dangerous? Apparently aware of the lameness of his statement, the man looked away. His visage showed no signs of malice; instead, he seemed rather embarrassed.

“Could you at least put me down?” Mira kicked both legs in an attempt to escape his arms.

“Whoa!” As she slipped out of his grip, the man struggled to keep her balanced in his arms. Suddenly, a woman emerged from behind him to hold Mira’s flailing legs down.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, honey,” she apologized. “Hold on just a little longer. We’re in a lake right now. If he lets go of you, you’ll sink!”

The woman had pale, light-blue hair and was draped in a transparent robe. The sparkle of her hair was familiar.

“Inside the lake, you say?” Mira muttered dubiously. The woman’s familiar, striking hair and earnest insistence made her pause; for the moment, she stopped resisting and surveyed her surroundings. Upon closer inspection, what she’d thought was the gloom of night was actually a landscape of deep navy blue. When she listened closely, she heard the muffled sound of distant waves. “I suppose you’re right. Does that make you a water spirit, then?”

“Yes, dear! My name is Anrutine.”

“Thought so. And you…?”

The man nodded. “Indeed, I am a spirit, too. Call me Wasranvel.”

Hearing this, Mira stopped struggling entirely. Spirits would never willingly hurt humans; they used violence only in cases of self-defense or a great emergency.

“I see… But you do not have the aura of a spirit.” Mira gave Wasranvel a hard look, eyeing his hair and body.

All spirits shared a singular trait: their sparkling hair, from which faint particles of light spilled forth. Anrutine’s hair was shimmering as expected, but Wasranvel’s was most certainly not.

“As a spirit, my domain is what you might call stealth,” he explained. “I’m a master of concealment and camouflage. Hiding has become a bit of a…habit for me.” The man grinned wryly.

Mira’s eyes widened in surprise, and joy slowly crept over her face.

“Spirit of stealth, you say? I’ve never met a spirit like you! I didn’t even know you existed!” she said with a squeal of delight. She put a finger to her chin and composed herself. “Now that I get a good look at you, you are quite dignified.”

“Well, it’s no surprise that you didn’t know of my existence… Even my friends tell me I’m forgettable.” In contrast to Mira’s joy, Wasranvel was clearly put out. Anonymity had its downsides.

Now in a bright mood at having encountered a new spirit, Mira pressed on. “You must need me for some reason! Go on and speak.”

“Ahh…that,” Wasranvel murmured and slumped over slightly.

Mira squinted as the surrounding light grew suddenly brighter. As she slowly reopened her eyes, she was taken aback by the sight before her.

They had reached a small space, perhaps thirty paces across. On the other side of the cavern-like room was a shrine entrance that looked as though it was in the middle of being excavated. Though all but the entrance was still buried in dirt, the shrine had an overpowering presence. The passage of time hadn’t seemed to diminish the place at all.

“What is this? This is beneath the lake?” Mira asked. “It looks underground to me.”

Wasranvel turned around and gazed at a small puddle. 

“To be precise, this is a narrow passage extending horizontally from beneath the lakebed. An and I have concealed this cave with our power, so it isn’t a place just anyone can enter.” He walked through the entryway as he spoke, then finally put Mira down. “Only those with power greater than ours can intrude. Now, as for the reason we brought you here—we need you to save a friend of ours. The one over there.” 

Wasranvel turned pained eyes toward the place of worship. Anrutine gazed over as well, her expression just as somber. In the very back of the chapel, something like a black mist wafted in the still air. A conspicuous pedestal stood there, and beside it was a skeleton, curled up with a sword in hand.

“Your friend, you say?” Mira asked, taking in the scene before her.

“…Yes,” Wasranvel slowly replied, eyes fixed on the skeleton.

“Hrmm… Seems a little too late, no?” Mira wasn’t in the resurrection business. But something about the situation seemed…off. So, Mira asked searchingly, “Or is this some sort of ‘save her soul’ business?”

“Oh! No, she’s still quite healthy. She is the sword.”

“The sword?”

This was unexpected. Upon closer inspection, the sword so lovingly held by the corpse didn’t just look fancy: despite being unsheathed, it didn’t have a spot of rust on it. It was obviously a legendary sword.

“Your friend is a weapon spirit, then?” Mira inquired.

Spirits could spend long periods of time within weapons, especially finer weapons. It seemed the spirits’ friend was a spirit themselves, after all.

“Not precisely…but that’s an acceptable assessment of the situation,” Wasranvel replied.

“I’m not sure I like that answer.” So…she’s a weapon spirit, but not the usual kind. Mira gave Wasranvel an expectant look.

“Her name is Sanctia. Holy Sword Sanctia,” the man answered, gritting his teeth in frustration at his inability to help his friend.

“Holy Sword Sanctia. Hrmm, I don’t believe I’ve heard the name before.”

Now that this world had become real, there were many things still unfamiliar to Mira. She considered that perhaps this was one of them. She turned her eyes back to the sword with renewed interest.

“It’s been years since she hid herself from the mortal world,” Wasranvel added, “and she’s only ever been swung once. It’s not surprising that you don’t know of her.”

“I see…” Mira agreed.

Any legendary sword, holy sword, or demonic sword was almost guaranteed to have an interesting story behind it. They were weapons that had cut down demons, swords that had pierced the hearts of evil dragons, blades passed down through centuries of royal bloodlines—and yet never seemed to tarnish or scratch. As absurd as these stories sounded, they were true.

No matter how powerful, a weapon would fall into obscurity without a worthy legend. There might be many powerful swords out there that were simply unknown. 

Mira looked at the sword and shuddered with excitement…which quickly turned to guilt as she realized the worried friends of the sword were still staring at her, awaiting a response. She pointed at the disquieting black mist and asked, “I presume saving her entails dealing with that?”

Though Mira could see no apparent light source, the chapel was full of brilliant light that banished all shadows. This was the power of a light spirit; Mira was sure of it. Yet in a place with no darkness, this one particular spot remained murky and dim—the very spot where the black mist and the sword-bearing corpse lay.

“That’s right. That thing is a spirit-devouring curse, so we can’t get near it. Sanctia has taken shelter deep within the sword, so she’s managed to maintain her existence. But we don’t know how much longer she can hold out…” Wasranvel’s face clouded over as he cursed his own inability to help.

Mira glanced at him sidelong, heaved a sigh, and began stretching. “Now, as for saving her. Are we in agreement that I simply have to defeat that skeleton?”

Wasranvel looked aghast for a moment before finally whipping around and asking, “Would you really?!” 

“That’s why you brought me here, isn’t it?” Mira’s tone was unbothered, as if defeating mist-wreathed skeletons was the most natural thing in the world to her.

“Yes, but…this is a vicious oni that has hunted over a thousand of our kind. You should know that before you make a decision. My apologies for the outburst.” Wasranvel chuckled in relief at her absolute confidence.

“Oho… This must be a powerful foe. Be ready to leg it in the worst case.” The young summoner smirked defiantly and advanced slowly toward the corpse. 

By the time she was halfway through the chapel, the air had grown heavy. The writhing mist crept along the ground as if in search of prey, dyeing the white floor black in its wake. The two spirits had moved to perch fearfully on a crossbeam high above, out of the mist’s reach.

“We’ll watch from up here. Let us know if we need to run; we will do our best to bring you with us,” Wasranvel said apologetically.

“Sure, sure.” Mira looked up and replied before again stepping toward the black mist. Yet before she reached it, she stopped.

In the game, boss battles were triggered by proximity. Once one entered a specific, visibly marked radius, the boss would attack. Even if one used ranged attacks from outside that circle, it would still retaliate.

Mira stopped just short of where she expected the line to be, curious if the old system was still in play. The skeleton lurched to a standing position, exuding a heavy aura. However, it only stood ready for battle; it did not seem as if it would attack just yet.

Hrmm… I suppose that confirms my suspicions?

The skeleton stared blankly at Mira, unmoving. It seemed to be judging the distance between them. The battle had already begun, even if neither party had yet moved to attack. 

Mira gazed intently back at her enemy. “Hrm?” She furrowed her brow with a slight grumble. She had received no information on this foe.

In-game, players could bring up a status menu by locking sights on an enemy. Even now, former players could do so—but it didn’t work on fellow players… 

If the punchline is that this is a former player, then it isn’t funny. Either way, there’s only one thing to do. Those two will have some more questions to answer once this is over.

According to the man, this foe had already snuffed out countless lives. Mira stretched her muscles, then summoned one Dark Knight and one Holy Knight. She stared down the unknown enemy of unknown strength. 

It may be ferocious beyond measure. Perhaps I ought to get serious for once.

Mira took a step toward the black mist.