[530] In the Coder (1)
The carriage that had arrived in Vashka, the capital of the Kingdom of Tormia, quickly turned and sped toward the Jijeo Mountains.
Miro and Rian rode inside, seated facing each other and continuing their conversation.
They'd rushed from Baiden without so much as a break, but listening to Shirone's experiences pouring from Miro's mouth left no room even to feel tired.
Rian wondered if they'd been tangled up with a con artist on a whole other level from Alp, but Miro's skill—shattering Alp's sword—was clearly not a technique made by ordinary humans.
Nor was Rian's technique.
"Divine-transcendent Yachara..."
Staring out the window, Rian murmured.
"Do you happen to know what the word Smille means?"
"Smille?"
Only then did Rian bring up his story—how he'd first reached divine transcendence in heaven, the tale of eating Imir's arm, and the story about receiving the from his grandfather.
"When I hear the word Smille as an auditory hallucination, wounds seem to heal quickly. I've already decided not to let it bother me, but I wanted to know what it might be."
"Hmm... I see."
Miro, intrigued, searched the knowledge in her head, but she'd never heard the term Smille before.
"If it were Teraje, she might know..."
Since Teraje wasn't here, Miro could only infer from what she'd heard.
"Imir is the apex of beings that reached the final stage of that phenomenon. If you ate the arm of such a giant, you might have gained regenerative ability. But I think it's a little different."
Rian looked up.
"I actually think it has something to do with the ."
"You mean the sword's power?"
"More like something interacting on a deeper level. I think Grandpa extracted an object called the in a dream. But as far as I know, extracting an object isn't simple. The one I travel with says it requires extremely complex and difficult steps."
"So how did Grandpa...?"
"The village he stayed in should be a clue. And it's probably connected to the eighty million gold he supposedly paid there. In other words, the had already been extracted, and Grandpa only paid for it and brought it back."
"But it doesn't seem likely he'd be carrying that kind of money while hunting bandits."
"The person involved wouldn't necessarily know where it started. The necessity of the dream probably intervened. And above all, if Grandpa didn't know about the world of Drimo, it's only natural he wouldn't question it."
"I see."
Miro raised a finger for emphasis.
"The important thing is, if Grandpa didn't extract it, who did? It's unlikely someone else meddled in his dream, so only one possibility remains."
Rian swallowed and waited.
"Bloodline, or lineage. Thoughts accumulated over generations formed the . At some point, someone in a particular generation extracted it, and Grandpa paid for it and brought it into reality. For now, that's the hypothesis closest to the truth."
"Bloodline..."
Hearing Miro, Rian felt as if he'd found a shaft of light in a pitch-black cave.
"And the reason I said regeneration might be tied to the is the same. Doesn't it strike you as odd? A sword that can never be destroyed."
"Odd?"
"No matter how you look at it, it's not a question of durability. It belongs to the realm of concepts. In other words, the 's ability, precisely put, is this: the information that forms the sword cannot be destroyed."
Miro pointed at Rian.
"If perfect integrity was the ancestor's will, it would be embedded into subsequent traits. If bodily information is damaged, it's quickly restored to its original state. That could explain why your grandfather heard an auditory hallucination like Smille."
Rian nodded in genuine admiration.
To get this far from so little information—she really was a mage.
"I think I understand. Thank you."
Miro's face remained serious.
"Be careful, Rian."
"Yes?"
"Even if the works that way, your body is not an object. If the effect that happened once when Grandpa extracted the is occurring in you continuously, Imir's arm may have triggered some ongoing effect. But Imir was still a living being, and living things have limits."
This was Rian's greatest fear.
"Dinai—the Axing—doesn't deny the Law. So while it allows transcendent movement without tapping into your absolute physical limit, if you get greedy your body still breaks. And if that repeats..."
In the end, the body would be destroyed and unable to regenerate.
Carrying such a dreadful outcome in one's chest is something only the person involved can feel, so Miro left it at that.
"Sorry. It'll only unsettle you to hear more."
"It's fine."
Rian smiled.
"I was scared before, but I'm okay now. Even if that limit is next, I'll swing with everything I have. It's the path I chose."
Miro nodded solemnly.
'Is this the family creed?'
The Ozent family trait—break through any obstacle no matter what—seemed thoroughly ingrained in Rian.
"We've arrived at our destination."
The coachman announced where the road ended halfway up the mountain.
From there they went on foot, and by the time they reached the Ardino estate it was already around noon.
Miro knocked, but no one came to meet them.
Hearing voices inside, she raised an eyebrow and turned the doorknob; the unlocked door creaked open.
"Puhaha! Back in my day I was something else. When I went into town, women couldn't take their eyes off me—I even got hit by a carriage because of it, you know."
"Oh my, looks that make even the gods jealous?"
"Huh? Ah, ah! That's right! Hahaha!"
Miro stared at Enrique and Marsha laughing and chattering exuberantly with hollow eyes.
Only then did Enrique, realizing she'd arrived, suddenly straighten and clear his throat.
"Ahem, you're here? I heard you'd be very late."
Miro ignored Enrique and went up to Marsha.
"When did you get here? Much sooner than I expected."
"Huh? No. I arrived an hour ago, too."
"..."
A vision of them having eaten and slept together for at least three days flashed through Miro's mind.
Whatever else, her social skills were exceptional.
"If you want to impress someone, start by winning over their parents. It's basic social etiquette."
With that whispered, Marsha waved at Rian.
"Long time no see. Haven't you grown so much since last time?"
"Thank you for helping Shirone."
Rian offered the words he'd prepared in advance.
Seeing someone treat Shirone's affairs like his own made Marsha think only his size had changed.
"Don't thank us. It's not like we're doing it for free."
Following Miro up to the second-floor room, Fermi, who had been talking with Arius, stood up.
"You're quick. As expected of Auntie."
There weren't many people in the world who could find two unidentified people so quickly.
"I'm busy too. Here—sign this contract."
Miro set the Depreciation Trade Contract on the table.
In the purchaser signature line was the name Milward, the archmage.
Once sold, the chip can be transferred, but Teraje wouldn't be foolish enough to sign someone else's unauthorized form.
"Good. Then we only need Shirone's signature."
Fermi held up the contract and Marsha interjected.
"Wait, let me see too."
Marsha had once used unauthorized forms to extract others' magic, so her curiosity was natural.
She examined the Depreciation Trade Contract carefully and nodded.
"Well made. It triggers Omniscience and Omnipotence by digesting the chip—turning the idea of ingestion into acquisition."
Since they might need to use a depreciation trade, Fermi made a chip on the spot and tossed it to Marsha.
"It's a clay chip made to Tormia's official spec. The inlay illustration in the center denotes the type of Omniscience, and the mold pattern on the outside encodes the Omnipotence. Once you remove the chip, its shelf life is three days; after that it corrodes."
"Oho."
If it takes effect from the moment the chip is taken out, Fermi effectively had no expiration—she could pull one out when needed.
But the seller and buyer must meet Fermi within three days.
"Do you just swallow it?"
"Yes. The Omniscience and Omnipotence in the chip are digested in the stomach over the contract period and eventually disappear. However, as digestion proceeds the balance between Omniscience and Omnipotence subtly skews."
"So efficiency drops."
"Yes. After about thirty percent digestion you need roughly 1.03 times the concentration you needed at the start. Sixty percent requires 1.07 times; at ninety percent digestion you need 1.12 times."
"That's not a huge drop in performance."
"You barely notice it in a single casting. But over the whole period it's not negligible. Also, if you fire repeatedly for a long time, there will be some fatigue difference."
Compared to learning a spell without restriction simply by ingesting something, that was hardly a fatal flaw.
"All right—Fermi, it's your turn. You brought everything, so explain how to enter the ."
"Oh, that was the condition."
Fermi picked up a glass bottle from the table.
It contained dozens of red pills the size and shape of beans.
"The is an area that exists outside of dreams. The reason you can't normally go is that the moment you try to leave you wake up. So you need a drug that acts specially on the brain."
"Is that what's in the bottle?"
"Yes. It's a stimulant called 'Dream Star.' When it takes effect, it awakens the brain just enough so you don't wake from the dream, linking the dream to sensations of reality. That way you can exit the dream without waking."
Miro snatched the bottle and shook it.
"Incredible. I can't believe a drug like this exists."
"Because it only stimulates to the razor's edge of the boundary between reality and dream, it's extremely difficult to concoct. It's very expensive and not something money alone can buy."
"Are there side effects?"
"Forcibly waking the brain means there will be. If you get addicted it'll be bad. But doing it a few times shouldn't be a problem."
"All right. What's the detailed plan?"
Fermi looked to Arius.
"To have four people carry out the operation, we must all share the same dream. That's called 'address matching.' Arius agreed to tune everyone's mental frequencies."
Given Arius's expertise with minds, they could trust him.
He wouldn't put Miro in danger anyway.
"Okay, then we're ready."
"Warning in advance: the final destination is the Abyss. The is only a passage to it. If your avatar is destroyed, you might never wake up."
They'd come this far with that level of resolve already, so no one showed any sign of faltering at the life-threatening warning.
"It doesn't matter—if it saves Shirone."
Hearing Rian's solemn determination, Fermi smiled.
This is going to be an interesting journey.