Chapter 40: Old Tales and Rings (2)
Rainbow.
Just hearing the three syllables of the boy’s current goal reverberating in his ears was enough to awaken every nerve in his body.
“Mercrad owns a piece of the rainbow?”
“Yes. It’s a story that might interest you.”
“But isn’t a rainbow just a band in the sky?”
The boy had never seen a rainbow with his own eyes.
But through various stories, he had come to associate it with natural phenomena like clouds, rain, and snow.
Natural phenomena are beyond human control.
Yet the idea of humans owning such a phenomenon refused to take shape in his mind.
“Of course, the seven-colored band in the sky remains the most plausible hypothesis. But the dominance of one theory doesn’t render all others meaningless. There are equally compelling alternatives.”
The old man levitated the ring before his eyes using telekinesis.
As it slowly rotated, sunlight streaming through the window set its surface ablaze with brilliance.
“One such theory suggests the rainbow is a gemstone.”
“A gemstone?”
“Yes. A single gemstone that breathes immense vitality into the world.”
The words emerged from parched lips, carrying the weight of a faded legend.
“Long ago, the world looked nothing like it does now. The skies stayed perpetually blue, and the land overflowed with abundance.”
The reason was simple.
At the heart of humanity’s first city stood a gemstone radiating prismatic light.
The rainbow’s glow enriched the soil and healed the sick. It filled people with boundless energy, eliminating hunger and conflict—a true paradise.
“What’s paradise?”
“An unfamiliar term, I see. It refers to a world where all enjoy prosperity and happiness.”
The explanation only deepened the boy’s skepticism.
A world where everyone’s happy?
It sounded more absurd than any tale ten Viola grandmothers could concoct.
Though unable to define happiness precisely, the boy knew one truth:
It was far harder to grasp than other emotions.
And perhaps... something that can be stolen.
He remembered witnessing a robbery—a man’s presumed happiness draining from his vessel to fill the thief’s.
Is there a fixed amount of happiness in the world? Do people survive by stealing it from each other?
“Happiness didn’t last. Factions arose to claim the rainbow, and during the ensuing war, it shattered into seven fragments.”
The world’s decline came swiftly after.
Murky air and stormy skies replaced clarity. The land turned barren, refusing to nurture life.
“But this remains mere legend.”
“Yet it’s among the more credible theories?”
The old man’s lips twitched.
“What of city-sized turtles beneath Elton River, spouting seven-colored streams from their mouths?”
“......”
“Or skyborne creatures trailing rainbow lights from their—”
“That’s enough.”
Though inexperienced, the boy felt certain such beings shouldn’t exist.
The old man chuckled at his stern expression.
“Let’s return. What do you think I’ll say next?”
“That Mercrad holds one of those fragments?”
“Correct. Their members carry red gemstones—shards of the original.”
While unproven, the connection felt undeniable to the old man.
“During my research, I acquired one of their gems. It was no ordinary charging stone.”
True charging stones were inferior—limited in capacity and quality. But this gem...
“It surpassed typical specimens, though still inferior to ring mana. This made me wonder—how does Mercrad supply such quantities?”
The answer lay in the rainbow hypothesis:
An infinite mana-emitting gem, fractured and scattered.
“Either the fragment is colossal enough to lose shards unnoticed, or it regenerates endlessly. Either way explains their supply.”
Though compelling, deeper investigation proved too dangerous given Mercrad’s notorious reputation.
Ray processed this quietly.
The basement man’s likely Mercrad ties.
The unproven but plausible gem theory.
He added “Mercrad” to his mental list of leads.
“You’re already planning something dangerous.”
The old man observed Ray’s resolute nod with a bitter smile.
Headstrong youth. My teachings might die with him...
But bedridden and nearing death, he could only offer knowledge and protection.
Returning the ring, he asked, “Anything else?”
Ray studied the band.
“Can the Enhancement and Exploitation Magic be removed?”
The door creaked open.
Veronica entered with measured steps, settling beside Ray.
“We’ll review basics for our new student.” The old man nodded at her assurance.
“All magic begins with circle formation. Using ambient or stored mana risks addiction.”
He tapped his chest.
“The ring around the heart—a vessel refining incoming mana. Its elemental composition depends on the caster’s traits, limiting spell types.”
The old man’s rings glowed predominantly in grays and browns—earth elements.
Ray recalled the basement man’s red-yellow mana for fire and metal spells.
I need combat-effective colors.
Veronica demonstrated, summoning blue mana to her palm.
“Guide it down your arm to the chest.”
The orb slid along her arm, beginning its orbital dance around her heart.
“Increase speed without losing control.”
Sweat beaded her forehead as the mana accelerated, tracing a luminous ring.
Then—
“Ah!”
The orb disintegrated into smoke.
“You... must maintain hold until the end,” she said, exhaustion belying her steady tone.
“Don’t despair. Daily progress will lead to success.”
“I know.”
Her anxiety stemmed from deeper fears—
What if Grandfather dies before I show him?
Graham had saved her and her siblings from a bleak orphanage, offering care and education.
Their devotion to him was natural.
“Ready to try?”
Ray closed his eyes, awakening every nerve.
When he reopened them—
A sea of shimmering mana stretched before him,
visible only to his enhanced perception.
“Beginners should start with familiar—”
The old man’s advice died as Ray’s mana shot to his chest.
Whirrrr—
The orb circled his heart at breakneck speed,
far surpassing Veronica’s attempts.
“Grandfather, this is...?”
The old man maintained calm observation.
He anticipated this, Veronica reassured herself.
But beneath his composed exterior—
What in the world?
Cold sweat trickled down his back.
