The place where Ludger currently worked—

Seorn Magic Academy.

“Come to think of it, there's Seorn!”

Seorn was generally recognized as a school for educating mages, but that wasn’t all it was.

It regularly produced exceptional talents, and the theses and theories related to magic that emerged from it were on par with those of any Mage Tower.

It was the place most mages—who would go on to become key figures of their nations—passed through first. The prestige of Seorn was not to be underestimated.

That’s why countless companies poured funding into Seorn every year, supporting it, collaborating with it, and receiving various benefits in return.

“For a nation like the Yuta Kingdom, they might even welcome such a proposal.”

If a direct contract was made with a country rich in natural resources, the capital needed to acquire magical materials and reagents for research would decrease significantly.

Of course, to achieve that, Seorn would also need to invest in helping the Yuta Kingdom extract those resources.

It wouldn’t yield immediate profit, but in the long term, it was a sound deal.

“Of course, the one who makes that judgment will be the Headmaster, so don’t take this as a guarantee.”

“I know that much! Still, thank you so much!”

Overwhelmed with joy, Yekaterina made to throw her arms around Ludger.

Startled, Ludger shoved her away by the head with his hand.

“Didn’t I tell you to maintain your dignity? I’ve told you over and over to fix that habit.”

Pushed back, Yekaterina pouted.

“I don’t do this to just anyone, you know?”

“I recall saying you shouldn’t behave like that with anyone.”

“That’s just how I feel. I’m a queen now, after all.”

“Anyone hearing that would think you became queen just to act however you please.”

“Anyway, thanks for the advice. I’ll have to pay a visit to Seorn soon.”

“...Please watch your mouth and don’t cause trouble while you’re there.”

At Ludger’s worried tone, Yekaterina narrowed her eyes.

“I do know how to behave in public now, you know?”

“...Right.”

Thinking back to how she acted at the Landriver Hotel front desk... maybe he was worrying too much.

Ludger nodded in acknowledgment.

“We’re both at a point where we’re extremely busy cleaning up after everything. We probably don’t have the luxury to chat for long.”

“...That’s true. You and I... We’re no longer in the same place we once were.”

Yekaterina felt a twinge of regret at that fact.

So much so that she even found herself missing the days when they were fleeing together during the civil war.

Back then, she had faced danger constantly—but it hadn’t been as suffocating as now.

Why was that?

Perhaps being queen now felt even more constricting.

Wearing clothes that didn’t fit and hiding behind a mask—it was exhausting.

Maybe that was why.

Someone who shared the past with her, who treated her the same regardless of her status—being around someone like that made her feel comfortable.

Of course she couldn’t help but feel a little wistful.

“...If I do visit Seorn, you’ll treat me like a proper guest, right?”

Like a child asking their parents for a toy, Yekaterina looked up at Ludger with hopeful, nervous eyes.

Ludger let out a small chuckle and nodded.

“Sure. I’ll at least show you around.”

Her face immediately lit up.

“Ohoho! I heard that loud and clear! That’s a promise, you know?!”

“Yeah.”

He figured if he said they hadn’t actually made a promise, she might actually cry—so he let it go.

Yekaterina left, saying she was going to tend to the wounded.

Ludger watched her scamper off before turning toward the tents.

He didn’t forget to release the sound-blocking barrier he’d cast around them earlier.

As he turned the corner of one of the half-burned tents—

He ran into someone.

“Loina?”

“Ah, um... that...”

Loina looked flustered, unsure how to react upon seeing Ludger.

His eyes narrowed.

That reaction—she must’ve seen him meeting with Yekaterina.

“What’s your relationship with Princess Yekaterina?”

Judging by her direct question, it was clear she had indeed been spying.

And in true Loina fashion, she didn’t bother hiding it.

“I was just thanking her for her help with this incident.”

Ludger gave a vague answer—he couldn’t reveal his real identity.

Since he’d cast a sound-blocking barrier, Loina had no idea what they’d actually talked about.

All he could do now was deny it.

“While hugging each other like that?”

“...That was...”

Ludger winced, remembering how Yekaterina had failed to maintain any sense of decorum just moments ago.

Even if Loina hadn’t heard the conversation, just seeing Yekaterina’s behavior left plenty of room for misunderstanding.

He racked his brain for an excuse—one that wouldn’t damage Yekaterina’s reputation as queen.

But nothing appropriate came to mind.

Just then, Loina reached out and patted Ludger on the shoulder.

“...?”

Ludger gave her a confused look, wondering what that gesture was supposed to mean.

Loina, looking as if she understood everything, nodded in understanding.

“Good luck. I support you as a friend.”

She gave him a big thumbs-up.

Ludger didn’t realize what she meant at first—but then it hit him.

She had completely misunderstood.

His expression darkened instantly, and Loina—sensing danger with uncanny precision—bolted on the spot.

“That little—”

Ludger clenched his jaw slightly but couldn’t bring himself to say anything more.

After all, he was the one who had given away her name.

He couldn’t help but wonder if, once she found out the truth, she’d come charging after him.

When that time came, he’d probably have to run just like now.

* * *

Back in his tent, Ludger slumped onto the sofa.

He was usually someone who rarely felt tired, but today, he desperately wanted to close his eyes and rest.

‘But I can’t do that yet.’

This was a rare moment of personal time.

His body and mind were both completely drained, but Ludger hadn’t forgotten what he needed to do.

He reached into the shadows and pulled out a book.

It had no title—just pages written in ancient script.

This was one of the items Ludger had been searching for all along.

A book containing knowledge of non-attributed mana.

‘If this is what I think it is...’

He opened the book and began reading through its contents.

With Arfa nowhere around, the tent was quiet—only the soft sound of pages turning echoed faintly in the air.

How much time had passed?

With a soft thud, Ludger closed the book after turning the last page.

He set it down on a nearby shelf and stood up from the sofa, heading to his bed to lie down.

As fatigue overtook him, his mind chewed over the contents of the book.

‘For its length, there was barely any usable information.’

Most of it resembled the book left behind by Rine’s mother, also about non-attributed mana.

Still, that didn’t mean it was without value.

‘Non-attributed mana. Not just lacking an element—but an unsolved curse that gradually devours the user’s life.’

That was the true nature of non-attributed mana.

Even without proper training, it grew stronger over time.

However, its users didn’t know how to handle the growing mana within them.

Whether suppressed or exhausted completely, the residual unknown force within continued to eat away at their body.

From the moment they became aware of their mana, a countdown began.

If they could at least die painlessly, it would be a mercy.

But non-attributed mana users never met such an end.

Their bodies collapsed from the inside, and they were forced to endure excruciating pain.

So much so that even the most mentally resilient individuals eventually ended their own lives.

Why?

Why did such mana even exist?

And why did people have to die because of it?

The reason behind that mystery—was written in this book, albeit abstractly.

[All of this is the result of a curse bestowed by the god.]

A curse bestowed by the god?

Most people would have dismissed that as the typical ancient tendency to shift blame, not even worth a second thought—but Ludger was different.

A curse, huh.

Honestly, there was no more accurate word for it.

If that’s what it was, then the next question was: why had it become a curse?

[In an age long forgotten, the magic of the chosen was far more diverse and abundant than it is now. Though their lineage has long been severed and even memories are faint, we believe the source of this nihilistic curse lies there.]

Even the ancients referred to it as “an age long forgotten.”

Then how ancient must it have been?

Still, from that statement, Ludger managed to draw a certain clue.

‘Before the current magic system built on the ten elements, there must have been many other unknown magical attributes—ones never fully revealed.’

Modern mages would find that hard to believe.

Their way of thinking was confined to modern knowledge—boxed in by convention.

But there were mages in this world who used unknown forms of mana.

In fact, Ludger knew one himself.

‘So, the lineage of knowledge about non-attributed mana was entirely severed by this so-called divine curse?’

That was the only logical conclusion Ludger could reach.

The book itself didn’t elaborate on that part.

‘A god, huh.’

Most people would feel hopeless here.

They’d ask: Who is this “god” the ancients were referring to?

Perhaps it was just a metaphor for fate—or a word they used to describe something incomprehensible and overwhelming, beyond human defiance.

But Ludger, who had deep knowledge of ancient languages, knew that this wasn’t some vague symbolic term.

The “god” mentioned here was a literal deity.

And in this world, there was only one being referred to that way.

The Radiant God, Lumenis.

The god worshipped by the Lumenis Church.

It was clear—they knew something.

‘Them again.’

He was sick of it—and yet, not surprised.

If anything, it only made things easier.

Because now, everything pointed to a single direction.

But more important than uncovering the truth... was finding a way to resolve the side effects of non-attributed mana.

‘In the end, non-attributed mana is still mana. If the user could truly understand what attribute it belonged to and how to control ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) it, then it wouldn’t be a curse. But without any knowledge—doing so is reckless.’

And yet, nowhere in this book was there a single account of someone successfully mastering it.

Which made sense.

If a solution had existed, people wouldn’t have kept dying from non-attributed mana.

‘Still... there was at least mention of a way to suppress it.’

That alone was worth more than gold.

But the author of the text clearly disliked the method.

In fact, they treated it as taboo.

Naturally.

Because postponing a divine curse didn’t rely on a priest’s blessing, nor on a mage’s knowledge of mana.

“It’s through a black magic curse.”

Lying in bed, Ludger’s eyes sank as he stared at the ceiling.

* * *

Morning came.

Although the Kasarr Basin had regained its supernatural stillness, and thus the passage of time couldn’t be felt naturally, the clock remained honest.

Ludger stretched his stiff body.

Today, the gate out of the Kasarr Basin would open.

In other words—it was time to leave.

Velkat was dead, and the basin’s collapse had been prevented.

On top of that, he’d secured items akin to elixirs and gathered all the information he needed.

It had been a painful ordeal, but the rewards far outweighed it.

“Leader, I’ve packed everything.”

“Good. Understood.”

Arfa picked up the luggage bags.

The two of them stepped out of the tent. All around, people were moving about, busy preparing for departure.

When they saw Ludger, many gave him a brief, respectful nod.

There was no one here unaware of Ludger’s contributions during the incident.

Granted, he had dumped most of the credit onto Loina, but even with that taken into account, his role had been enormous.

Naturally, people treated him with goodwill and tried to get close to him.

Except for those from the Old Mage Tower.

Ludger returned the greetings with light nods.

The path out of the basin turned into a long procession.

Even if they’d survived, those who had gone through such a hellish experience had no desire to remain any longer.

They moved quickly, heading for the massive gap in the fog curtain that had now opened.

Of course, leaving didn’t mean everything was over.

There were still matters to address: what had happened inside, and how to handle the deceased.

Those issues would continue outside.

‘Others will handle it just fine.’

Naturally, that wasn’t Ludger’s responsibility.

He’d report to Duke Heibach and the Headmaster, but he had no reason to get involved in the aftermath.

With that mindset, Ludger walked alongside Arfa—until he abruptly came to a halt.

Arfa, about to ask why, spotted it too.

“A child?”

A child, indeed.

They were far enough from the exit that no one else noticed, but Ludger and Arfa, with their keen perception, saw clearly.

A young boy with gray hair stood still, quietly staring beyond the mist curtain.

As if... waiting for someone.

“Who do you think he’s waiting for?”

“A friend.”

“A friend? But the spirits here are supposed to remain inside, aren’t they? Then how could anyone wait outside?”

“They’ll wait anyway.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what friends do.”

With those words, Ludger turned away from the child and resumed walking.