Academy’s Genius Swordmaster
Academy’s Genius Swordmaster - Chapter 55: The Baydian Mountains (4)

Chapter 55: The Baydian Mountains (4)

Ronan’s eyes widened. The woman was undoubtedly talking about the Seniel Temple. Gradually, words piercing through her parted lips flowed out.

“Sa-Sarante… Please take me to him…”

“You know Sarante?”

Instead of answering, the woman bowed her head deeply. Even though she shook her shoulders, she only managed to expel rapid breaths, unable to open her eyes. It seemed she had lost consciousness again, and her mana was also invisible.

“Ronan, she’s not in a good state. I’ll take her there and come back.”

“I’m the fastest on foot. I’ll be back soon, so wait with Aselle.”

Ronan scolded the woman, frustration evident in his words. He didn’t know what circumstances led to a noble race like elves crawling to such a place to die, but he couldn’t just leave her. He looked back at Marya and Braum and said:

“Don’t do anything unnecessary and get hurt.”

With those words, Ronan started running. Despite carrying another person, he sped up the mountain like a squirrel. Braum, watching his back, chuckled.

“Such a kind junior.”

“Yeah. It’s because my mouth is dirty and dull.”

“We can’t just stand by either. Let’s go.”

Marya, tilting her head, looked up at the sky. Aselle’s bombardment was still ongoing.

“Quite impressive, cutie.”

The influence of the leyline had made their telekinesis much stronger. At this point, even being swept away by the river would have seemed a better fate for the orcs. The two of them, carrying their greatswords, moved forward.

****

“Sarante!”

” Sir Ronan?”

Not even thirty minutes had passed before Ronan arrived at the temple. Sarante, who was polishing Seniel’s statue, turned his head in surprise. When he saw the tied-up elven woman, his eyes widened with concern.

“Th-That person…?”

“She was rolling around near an orc village in this state. Just before she fainted, she called out your name, so I brought her here.”

“She’s looking for me? What on earth is happening around the orc village…”

“Sarante, just take a look first. She doesn’t look well.”

Ronan gently laid the woman on a long chair. Fortunately, she was still breathing. Sarante looked at her face and exclaimed in amazement.

“Goodness, Lady Brighia…”

“Is she someone you know?”

“Yes. She’s one of the pilgrims. I last saw her about two hundred years ago, and now she’s in this state…”

Sarante explained that she was a believer in Seniel, just like him. The pilgrims periodically visited Seniel’s statue for pilgrimage, but she must have encountered some danger on her way here.

“This isn’t the right time for this. Just a moment.”

Sarante hurriedly ran inside the temple. When he returned, he held a small vial in his hands.

Inside the vial was a viscous liquid, similar to honey. When he fed it to the woman, her complexion noticeably improved. Sarante wiped the sweat from his forehead and murmured.

“Phew… She’s fine for now.”

“Damn it, what happened? Potions weren’t working well earlier, but now she’s fine?”

“I don’t know either. But judging by the symptoms, it seems like she’s been poisoned by a potent toxin. I gave her an antidote to neutralize it.”

“Toxin?”

“Yes. It’s a type of mana-infused poison, but I don’t know where she could have encountered such a powerful poison.”

“Then what’s the identity of this rope? Even when I tried cutting it with a sword or used fire, it wouldn’t break.”

“This… surely…”

Sarante examined the rope. His usual gentleness was absent from his contorted expression. After a while, he touched the rope and muttered something.

“Huh?”

The rope that wouldn’t even break with a saw suddenly started unraveling on its own like a mating snake. Ronan’s eyes widened.

“What? How did you do that?”

“Fortunately, this spell worked. It’s a very old magical tool. It was meant to be something that couldn’t be cut.”

Explaining this, Sarante hugged Brighia and gently laid her on the bed in his room. He placed a damp towel on Brighia’s forehead and finally let out a sigh of relief.

“Phew… I’ve done all I can for now. You’ve done a great job.”

“What happened to that woman?”

“As I mentioned before, I don’t know either. We’ll have to wait until she wakes up.”

“It’s quite a situation.”

Sarante said that it was impossible to guess how someone like Brighia, who had lived a similar amount of time as himself, ended up in such a state. After finally catching his breath, Sarante asked Ronan:

“But why did you go to the orc village?”

“Huh?”

“I appreciate you saving Lady Brighia, but I’m curious. Was there a reason you had to go to such a dangerous place? You could have been seriously hurt.”

For a moment, Ronan was at a loss for words. Even though he had mentioned that he found her not inside the village but around it, he still found himself being criticized. He felt like a great-grandchild who’s getting scolded for playing by the river.

“Well, I was just wandering around and happened to end up there. I’ll be careful.”

“Wandering around? Are you looking for something?”

“Um… Have you heard of a monster called a ‘Curse Eye’?”

Ronan explained that a friend of his was cursed, and to lift the curse, he needed to capture a Curse Eye. Listening to the story, Sarante nodded.

“I see. A curse.”

“Yes. In truth, I meant to ask you from the beginning, but somehow I missed the right timing.”

“Certainly, the Baydian Mountains is a suitable place for Curse Eye to reside. I’m not sure exactly where it is located, but… Why would you attempt such a dangerous curse removal?”

“What do you mean?”

“Using Curse Eye can indeed make dispelling curses more convenient, but it can also impose a significant burden on the person afflicted by the curse. Since it’s not a formal curse removal procedure, forcibly extracting a curse can result in substantial challenges.”

This was new information to him once again. Sarante added that those affected by severe curses could go mad or suffer permanent disabilities.

‘Come to think of it, I recalled how my eyes had been constantly itching after my visit to Rodollan. Back then, I only thought it was a precursor to being able to see mana, but it could have been a precursor to becoming a shaman.’

“That was a close call…”

“Pardon?”

“Oh, nothing. I’ll be on my way, Sarante.”

“You’re leaving? You’re not heading towards the orc village again, are you?”

“There’s no way I would do that.”

Ronan turned around. He hadn’t expected to find himself in a situation like this once more.

Time was running out now. To make it back to Philleon by Wednesday night, he had to leave the temple today.

****

“…Just wait quietly.”

When Ronan returned, another village had already fallen to ruin. In the empty orc village, Aselle, Marya, and Braum had gathered.

“Hahaha! I couldn’t let you have all the fun by yourself!”

Braum laughed heartily with his hands on his hips. Around him were the bodies of at least six orcs. Marya swung her greatsword to fling off the blood that had splattered on her weapon.

Red droplets clung to her golden hair like dew. Ronan raised an eyebrow and asked.

“Was it more manageable than you thought?”

“Well, hunting monsters is something I’ll have to do sooner or later.”

“You’ve got a good attitude. This dwarf still has a long way to go.”

“P-please…”

Ronan lightly tapped Aselle’s head with his hand and shook him back and forth. Dark shadows hung under Aselle’s eyes, showing that he had depleted his mana.

“And what about Cita?”

“It’s dealing with the orcs who survived being swept away by the river. Wasn’t that what you asked it to do, Ronan?”

Marya smirked. Ronan chuckled sarcastically. Seeing it competently handling things even without being instructed, he realized that it might start talking soon.

“Anyway, you all did well. We don’t have much time, so let’s finish up quickly.”

The group swiftly moved to the next location. The slaughter that was taking place in an already defeated state was systematic and efficient. As they progressed through each village, the party’s abilities noticeably improved.

“Invisible Hand!”

“Here I go! Flying in the sky!”

Aselle executed slaughter using methods that caused the orcs to fall to their deaths. He didn’t feel prepared to kill them by shooting projectiles. The idea of floating them up so high that they were barely visible and then releasing the telekinesis was quite comical.

“Then shall we go to the area where our Archmage demolished?”

“Hyiiik!…”

There wasn’t much to do in the two villages that Aselle had bombed. The huge rocks and trees he had dropped had already created ruins that were difficult to classify as villages.

“Well done, Aselle. This is your masterpiece.”

It was, once again, telekinesis magic.

Clap! Clap! Clap!

Seeing the bodies of orcs and the collapsed buildings, Ronan clapped. Aselle covered his mouth with both hands and muttered something.

“…I’m going to hell.”

After thoroughly searching the village, they collected everything of value. Despite that, the loot collected from the village that had existed for a long time was substantial. Other than Brighia, no survivors were visible.

Having completed their village circuit, the group returned to the temple. Despite the heavily clouded sky, their footsteps were light.

“We’ve eliminated the biggest threats with this.”

The biggest possibility for the attack on Sarante’s temple was orcs. It was in their nature to rampage and pillage.

Reducing their numbers by more than 70% and completely destroying the villages that could have become their bases, the remaining orcs would likely scatter and leave Baydian.

With this, the gnome scholar could now gather herbs more peacefully. However, one question lingered in Ronan’s mind.

“It’s strange. Ogres are rare, but monsters like that shouldn’t be this hard to find.”

In truth, when he triggered the river’s explosion, he expected at least one or two to appear. He had considered the possibility that the attack on the temple might have been the work of that creature, so he had actively searched for ogres. However, he had not found a single one.

“It’s a bit disappointing.”

For a moment, Ronan reminisced about past adversaries as he savored his meal. The Twin Head Ogre, who had reigned as the king of Baydian for three days and nights in a fierce battle that remained undecided. He had wanted to settle the matter even now, but it was regrettable.

They had done everything they could, dealing with both orcs and ogres. Among the three potential disasters – the orc, the ogre, and the natural disaster – they had only managed to handle one. But now that the orcs were eliminated, there shouldn’t have been any significant issues.

As he entered the temple, he spotted Sarante meditating. Ronan greeted him, “Sarante, we’re back.”

“You’ve come. You didn’t go back to the orc village, did you?”

“Of course not. And the woman?”

“She… still hasn’t woken up. The poison seems to be stronger than expected.”

Brighia was still suffering, Ronan twisted his lips in frustration.

“Darn, it’s bothering me for no reason. Could you let me know if she wakes up?”

“Of course. I will definitely inform you.”

Ronan wrote down the address of their dormitory on a note and handed it to Sarante. Sarante, who had raised his lips with effort, began to speak.

“Don’t worry. There probably won’t be any major issues. If it weren’t for you all, Brighia would have suffered a tragic fate without a doubt. We almost lost one of the few followers of Seniel in the world.”

“I’ve been curious since the first day, but what exactly is this Seniel?”

“Strictly speaking, Seniel is not a god, but a great spirit. A being guided by a great will that transcends time…”

Sarante muttered as if he missed something while stroking his chin. His gaze was fixed on the image of Seniel.

“My memories from the past are coming back. I lifted that rock and moved it all the way to Coña.”

“You moved that rock to Coña? All the way there?”

“Yes. It’s a sacred place for those who believe in Seniel.”

Ronan raised an eyebrow. Sarante talked about the place called Coña, a sanctuary that was located far from the Imperial Territory.

“It’s a place where storms always rage. Once every thousand years, we bring a hundred giant rocks to the center of the sanctuary. And for a thousand years, we leave them there undisturbed. The rocks that remain after a thousand years become the representation of Seniel.”

“So if there were a hundred rocks left, that would be all of Seniel?”

“Exactly.”

“I’m sorry to say this, but that’s a really strange religion. How can you call that a representation?”

Sarante put his hand on the image and said, “Because Seniel isn’t a god, but a spirit. Just like there’s no clear form for pride, belief, or love. We respect the will that has lingered here for a thousand years, and that’s what the representation of Seniel is.”

“It’s perplexing. It sounds impressive, but…”

A thousand years. It was an activity that only a race as long-lived as elves or dragons might undertake. With the information about Seniel, Ronan was really prepared to leave.

The group’s luggage had multiplied several times compared to when they had come. He wondered if the ghost horse would be able to carry it all. However, it wasn’t the end. Just as they were about to leave the temple, Sarante handed over a few pouches.

“Take these. I’ve prepared them to give to you.”

“Why give us all this? We’ve already received more than enough.”

“I don’t really need these items anyway. Please accept them as a token of gratitude for saving Brighia.”

The pouches were filled with herbs and magic stones that he had given them so far. Despite Ronan’s refusal, Sarante persisted, and he accepted the pouches.

“This is… really…”

It was hard to decline when an elderly person, who was at least many centuries older, came out in such a posture. Ronan accepted the pouches. Only then did Sarante finally smile generously and shook hands in farewell.

“Take care on your journey. These have been the most enjoyable two days in the past thousand years. May Seniel bless your future.”

“I’ll visit occasionally. Take care.”

Ronan smiled back and shook hands gracefully. Sarante waved his hand until their figures disappeared behind the trees. It felt like thunder was about to rumble beyond the clouds, as if it was about to rain soon. Gazing at his palm after the handshake, Sarante whispered softly.

“Ronan.”

Sarante had stood outside for a while before returning to the temple. Once the guests left, the temple was silent again.

He walked past the statue of Seniel that stood firmly, and entered his room. He couldn’t see Brighia, who had been lying down until a moment ago.

Sarante quietly picked up a teapot and left the room. As usual, he poured himself a cup of tea and started wiping the image with a dry cloth.

Thoroughly wiping every nook and cranny. After cleaning the image completely, Sarante opened his mouth without turning his head.

“It’s been a while. You’ve changed a lot, Brighia.”