Resolved, Miledi turned back toward the mainland. Her expression had completely transformed. There was no weakness or sorrow in it anymore, just firm, unyielding determination. Her eyes glimmered brighter than ever before.
As she took her first step, a gust of wind blew past her and, for a moment, it felt as though Miledi heard Belta’s voice.
“Live, Miledi.”
It might have just been a trick of the wind and waves, but Miledi could have sworn that was Belta’s voice.
Stopping in her tracks, Miledi closed her eyes and replied, “Don’t worry, I will. Even if...I’m the last one left.”
Smiling faintly, Miledi resumed walking. She wouldn’t look back ever again.
That same night, Miledi went to the closest church she could find from Sainttown. She sat down on a pew in the front row, and a priest sat down on the pew across the aisle from her.
“Ehit, I’ve come to bargain,” she said.
The priest didn’t respond, but Miledi knew Ehit was listening. There was no way he’d be able to resist the allure of something interesting.
“I’ve thought of a way to make your game a whole lot more interesting.”
There was only one option Miledi could think of that would save the present world while still keeping hope alive for future generations.
After hearing Miledi’s proposal, the priest’s face transformed into the beautiful features of an apostle. There was an ugly smile on his face, and he added a series of cruel conditions to see whether or not Miledi would accept. However, Miledi wasn’t fazed at all, and she accepted them all without complaint, with the exception of one which she negotiated slightly.
Ehit doubled over with laughter as the deal was struck, his ominous voice echoing through the church.
“This is the first time I’ve ever seen anyone make such a foolish choice. I doubt your companions will accept the terms of this contract.”
“Oh, they will. I have faith in them. Though you probably can’t understand that,” Miledi replied in a cold voice.
Laughing even harder, Ehit said, “You should be proud, Miledi Reisen. You’ve piqued God’s interest, something no one else has done before.”
Not deigning to respond, Miledi rose to her feet and walked out of the church, Ehit’s laughter following her as she left.
On this day, a deal between God and the Liberators was struck.
Once she left the town, Miledi came to a halt. Oscar and the others were standing in front of her, looking worried.
“Miledi...thank goodness. We were worried something might have happened when you suddenly headed toward Grandort,” Oscar said with a relieved sigh as he held the compass in one hand.
Oscar and the others had known where Miledi had gone the moment she’d disappeared, but they’d figured she wanted some time alone, so they hadn’t chased after her. But then she hadn’t returned even after sunset, and when they checked the compass, they saw that she was within the Grandort Empire, so they’d rushed over thinking something bad might have happened.
“Miledi, what are you—?” Laus stopped mid-question, overwhelmed by the sheer determination he saw in Miledi’s gaze. The others were similarly awed.
It was clear to everyone that Miledi had made a momentous decision.
“Sorry for leaving without saying anything,” Miledi said quietly.
Oscar instinctively knew he wouldn’t like what she was going to say next, so he hurriedly said, “Miledi, I’m sure we’ll be able to make another Arrow of Boundaries, so—”
“We can discuss that later, O-chan. Hear me out first.”
Oscar raised an eyebrow in surprise, and the others—especially Meiru—looked similarly shocked. There had been only one man around Miledi’s age that she’d used the -kun honorific for. It had been a subconscious expression of her desire to maybe have a normal romance with him someday, but that had seemingly changed.
“We’ll stand out here. Let’s at least return to the forest to talk,” Lyutillis said, and everyone nodded. They wanted to put off hearing whatever it was Miledi had to say for as long as possible.
No one said a word on the way back to the forest. It was only after they’d returned to the training ground near the capital and sat down in a circle that Miledi spoke.
“I made a deal with Ehit.”
“You what?!” Vandre said in a stunned voice. Oscar and the others were similarly stupefied.
Miledi then went on to explain the details of the deal, and Oscar and the others almost doubted their ears for a moment.
“Ehit said that he would spare this world if we died. He wanted to see if we’d sacrifice ourselves for the present, or sacrifice the present for the future, so I decided to make a third choice.”
Miledi had wanted to ensure the present was saved, while still preserving hope for the future. Thus, she’d come up with an interesting enough way to do it that Ehit had decided to play along.
That method was none other than the Seven Labyrinths Project.
“We’re going to create a series of trials within our respective labyrinths, and pass on our ancient magic to anyone who manages to clear them.”
They already knew from their time in Dastia that it was possible to make a magic circle that read the memories of someone to see if they had cleared certain conditions and also pass on power and knowledge to them. They also knew that while it had taken their combined powers to create concept magic, the first hero, Darrion Kaus, had done it alone.
If anything, it was harder to bring forth concept magic with more people, since it meant syncing up different values, thoughts, and feelings into a single extreme expression of will. The fact that Miledi and the others had managed to create three different concept magic-imbued artifacts was proof that their bonds of trust were stronger than any in history. It was a miracle that they’d succeeded even once.
Regardless, that was why Miledi and the others would craft extremely difficult trials that would require an unbreakable will to clear.
“If we can pass all of our ancient magic onto a single person, it should be a lot easier for them to use concept magic.”
It was also possible that multiple people strong enough to clear the labyrinths would all appear in a single generation. And then, once someone managed to collect all seven ancient magic, Ehit would then play a new game with them.
As Miledi explained all of that, Oscar and the others had a revelation. Not about the trials, but the fact that they could just pass on their ancient magic to each other.
Noticing the change in their expressions, Miledi said in a sad voice, “We can give it a try, but I don’t think it will work. Since you all understand the true nature of your ancient magic, you should be able to tell that.”
Natural ancient magic users had the power to interfere with one of the fundamental laws of nature imprinted onto their souls at birth. However, that meant their souls were already “dyed” in such a way that they couldn’t be modified any further. Ironically, only ancient magic users were incapable of learning other ancient magic.
No one tried to refute Miledi’s claim, and their bitter expressions made it obvious they’d realized she was right.
“Besides, even if we could, Ehit wouldn’t allow it. He’s tired of playing with us, and he wants new pawns to mess around with.”
However, it was unlikely new pawns on the level of Miledi and the others would appear ever again. With each passing generation, there were fewer and fewer people born with special magic, let alone those capable of using ancient magic, so Miledi’s proposal to create a system where a new super-powerful ancient magic user might appear at any time had been quite appealing to Ehit.