Ch. 191
“Is it you?”
“Yeah. It’s me.”
“That damned smug tone again…”
“No, I mean it. It’s me. The final key of this place. To be exact, I should say the [Water Spirit Mage].”
Until a moment ago, I wasn’t entirely sure—but the inscription above the door confirmed it. Those were the very same expressions I’d always seen in the ancient records left behind by spirit mages.
The water spirit mages in particular loved to use the word ‘flow’, so their writing style was easy to recognize.
And they often quoted from a poem said to have been written by a god.
I’d seen it so many times that even a lazy person like me ended up memorizing it.
“‘Fate is like the sea—vast beyond will, a mighty storm whose end no one knows. None can tell where it flows or where they stand upon it. Surrender to the current, and it shall carry you. Life and death alike will come to thee in time.’”
“…The fourth verse of the [Poem of the Gods]? What about it?”
“That quote is written on the door. It’s one of the water spirit mages’ favorite lines.”
Lox didn’t understand what I was saying.
“And what does that have to do with ‘you’ being the key?”
“Have you never thought about it? That the path here demanded a water spirit mage? Otherwise, it would’ve been nearly impossible to reach this place.”
“Well… that’s true, but—”
“Maybe the person who built this place was also a water spirit mage like me. ‘Heir to the legacy’ could mean someone who carries the same power. And the reason there aren’t any traps might be because the creator wanted to leave this inheritance safely to those who walk the same path.”
Even the letter hinted at that.
I wasn’t an expert in dungeon mechanics, but when it came to spirit studies, I could say with confidence—I was the best there was.
“‘In the depths where no light reaches, you shall find it by fate. The price of liberation is the destiny of the lake…’ Remember that line? I was never sure how to interpret ‘destiny of the lake,’ but if we take it simply, maybe it just means someone destined to cross it.”
“Someone destined to cross the lake…”
“Exactly. And who else could that be but me?”
“…Alright. That does make sense. Then maybe you should try injecting mana into the device—”
“No, that’s not it. Spirit mages don’t manifest mana physically like swordsmen do. It wouldn’t have been designed that way.”
Swordsmen project mana into their blades, shaping and materializing it into [Aura Blades].
Their method requires stamina more than mental focus, because they expel mana from their bodies.
Spirit mages and magicians, on the other hand, consume mana directly within themselves. It demands immense mental strength.
The two professions train differently because their ways of using mana are fundamentally different.
Since this entire path was built for a water spirit mage, there’s no way the door would require a swordsman’s method.
“Then there must be another way?”
“If a spirit mage built it, they’d use a spirit. [Undaine]?”
[Yes, Master.]
“Can you open this door? What kind of method would a spirit mage use? It can’t be brute force.”
As I retraced my thoughts, everything became clear. This place was hidden in a way that made it unreachable without a water spirit mage.
That meant the only key the dungeon’s master desired… was this rippling blue being before my eyes.
[I can open it. The door is compatible with our power.]
“I knew it! Then open it. You must know how, Undaine.”
[Of course. Just as fish know how to swim, and birds know how to fly… we simply ‘see’, and we know. But… I cannot open it myself.]
So much for that.
My bad feeling was right again.
“…You mean… don’t tell me…”
[Yes. This door demands a being far greater than I. If he cannot be summoned, it cannot be opened. That is this place’s trial and trap. But you, Master—you can achieve it.]
“Haa…”
Today’s goal was ‘not’ to overdo it. Guess that’s gone to hell.
Turns out the dungeon wasn’t trap-free—it just demanded someone strong enough to ignore traps altogether.
As I let out a deep sigh, Ash approached.
“Geenie? What did the spirit say?”
“…I can open it, but…”
“But…? That sounds bad…”
The men, unable to hear spirits, fidgeted nervously and stared at me.
What a bunch of anxious chicks.
Since I’d brought them all this way, I might as well show them something worth remembering.
“I have to summon something big.”
“Big…?”
“Big as in ‘what’?”
“Well, we’ve come this far. Might as well go all the way.”
Consider it an early birthday present for Ash. The [Goblet of the Golden Star] suits the occasion perfectly.
I gestured for the confused men to back away.
“You’ll see soon enough. Everyone, step back—it’s dangerous.”
First, loosen up the shoulders a bit. Roll the neck. Stretch.
I glanced at the group as they obediently stepped back, still clueless.
Couldn’t help but grin. I already knew how much they’d freak out in a second.
“You’ve all been wondering, haven’t you? What exactly a spirit mage does.”
“I kinda get it already. Those blue things flying around and shooting water drops, right?”
“Or making it rain?”
“Or building bridges over rivers?”
Their stupidity was… endearing, somehow. Maybe I’d gone soft after spending so much time with Rai.
When those burly, sweaty, bearded guys start looking ‘cute’, you know something’s wrong with you.
“I’ll show you properly this time. You should feel honored.”
This would be a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Even rarer than watching Rovenin duel the Count of Trenfe.
I stopped joking around and turned to face the door.
Summoning something that massive came with a cost. Like always, I’d be half-dead by tonight.
When will I ever be able to call [Endairon] without killing myself every time?
“O merciless water.”
I planted my feet firmly and prepared to call forth my strength.
As I spoke the chant, feeling the power form in my grasp, I sensed it—my essence connecting to something beyond.
Spirit mages call it touching souls.
When souls meet, we resonate—two becoming one, wielding shared strength.
“Rise from the furious sea, from the whirlpool where death is bound—”
[How’s he doing these days?]
“Come to me, [Endairon].”
The droplets dripping from the ceiling suddenly became a torrential downpour. The ground trembled violently as the water boiled up.
A deafening roar filled the cavern. Every nearby stream seemed to respond, surging in resonance.
Water spiraled around me, climbing higher and higher until it touched the ceiling, spreading outward until the entire cavern floor was submerged knee-deep.
Maybe they thought we were drowning, because one of them—judging by the voice, Lox—screamed.
But the water didn’t stop. It swirled faster, forming a single rising mass that swept through the chamber and took shape.
A colossal form emerged, large enough to fill the entire cavern despite my effort to summon it small.
Before we knew it, we stood within the coils of [Endairon]’s immense body.
The currents that brushed past us were alive—each stream a part of his vast being.
So immense was his form that even this huge cavern seemed cramped for him. His black eyes, deep and still as death itself, fixed on me.
[My friend.]
“Endairon, open the door.”
As Undaine said, perhaps [Endairon] instinctively knew how.
The great serpent moved fluidly, like flowing water, toward the door.
There wasn’t enough space for his whole body, so part of him wound up the walls—but that didn’t seem to matter to him.
He coiled above the door and began to slip into it, headfirst.
Through the spot where Ash had once placed his hand, that enormous body vanished slowly inside.
It seemed impossible for something so massive to fit, but he kept sinking in—until I finally understood.
So that’s how it is.
I could ‘feel’ the countless mechanisms inside the door through [Endairon].
One crucial part had been missing—the greatest cog of them all: the high-rank water spirit himself.
Whoever built this place… using [Endairon] as a key meant they were a true powerhouse.
Even now, as [Endairon] filled that missing piece, I could barely keep up with the strain.
“This is tougher than I thought…”
[The ancients had higher averages, after all. If it’s too much, take the mana inside me.]
“Hold on. Not yet. I can… handle this much. I can do it.”
I muttered it like a vow.
It felt wrong to rely on Rai or Magi for something as simple as opening a door.
Long ago, someone like me used to open this every day. As a fellow spirit mage, failing at that would be too humiliating.
I focused even harder.
When [Endairon] began to move, the inner mechanisms finally started to turn with grinding clicks.
Even a single rotation drained enormous mana and focus, but showing weakness annoyed me more than pain itself.
If I tried to force the process faster, the gears would slip—so I had to match their rhythm perfectly, burning through energy and concentration at an alarming rate.
“Geenie…”
I hadn’t even noticed Ash approaching.
He gently wiped the sweat from my forehead with a worried expression, and only then did I realize I’d been biting my lip hard enough to sting.
My palms were slick with sweat. I unclenched and whispered softly.
“Almost there.”
“I’m sorry… You shouldn’t have to go through this for us…”
“What, you trying to sap my motivation now?”
“But… you hate helping others.”
Idiot.
“Ash, you’re not ‘others.’ You’re someone I don’t mind sweating for. That’s a big difference.”
Maybe he hadn’t realized that.
Ash’s face twisted with a pained, almost tearful look.
I was already lightheaded from the mana drain, nausea rising from the backlash—but it didn’t feel meaningless.
Because after that grueling struggle…
The massive door began to open for the first time in millennia, shaking the entire space.