Dark Fantasy Normalized

For spirits, pure energy is like sunlight nurturing plants.

But what happens when the opposite prevails?

“Sob... Sob... Sob...”

The sound of muffled weeping filled the putrid sewer, an atmosphere utterly unfit for such an expression of sorrow.

There, a spirit stared into a mirror, seeing the grotesque transformation of its own form.

“Heuuuugh—!”

The sight was as expected.

When the spirit decided to hand itself over to the black magicians, it knew it would endure something horrifying.

Their aura alone was nauseating, even from a mere brush.

What would it be like to take that energy into its body?

Unbearably revolting, surely.

“It hurts, it hurts!”

But never had it imagined the pain would be this excruciating.

Spirits do not understand physical pain. The concept simply doesn’t exist for them.

So, what was this? This pain?

What am I?

I am undoubtedly a spirit—so why can I feel pain so vividly?

“You are different from us.”

The voices of its kin echoed faintly.

They were right.

I am different from them.

This sharp discomfort, this pain—it is the proof.

“Yes...”

Tears trickled down from one eye, its natural vibrant green dulled and faded.

From the other eye, which was physically damaged, a mixture of blood and pus flowed freely.

Even with its mouth closed, its teeth were grotesquely visible.

Its skin sagged and dripped like mud after a heavy rainstorm.

The reflection in the mirror was monstrous beyond words.

“I am not like you...”

The spirit let out a trembling laugh as it stared at its reflection.

Somehow, it convinced itself this clarity was freeing.

At least now it would no longer suffer from confusion and misplaced anguish.

Everything was clear.

“I am a mutant...”

---

“Lady Lapita, there’s a message from Drapon.”

“What does it say?”

“They’ve searched every conceivable place the spirit might be, but they found nothing.”

“And Gadena?”

“Likewise, no trace of Ferin has been found.”

“...Then what do we do now?”

“For now, we should return to the Great Forest. With the family’s assistance, we can conduct a large-scale search.”

“...”

The young elf lady’s wishes remained unfulfilled.

Even as a high noble ruling the Great Forest, overturning a distant human city at will was not an easy task.

Especially when the reason was as trivial to others as "losing a beloved spirit."

In the end, the reunion between the naïve young lady and the spirit happened much later.

In a form far worse than she could have imagined.

“...”

The proud and solitary blue wolf pup was gone.

What stood in its place was a patchwork monstrosity, a melted amalgamation of countless creatures.

“Aaaaaargh!”

The nauseating sewer filled «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» with horrific screams.

Blood and pus dripped like spit from the holes that had once been eyes and a mouth.

“Ah... Ah... Ah...”

The elf lady, who always threw tantrums when things didn’t go her way, was the same this time.

She refused to accept that this abomination was the spirit she had once cherished.

She refused to accept that she had failed to protect it.

The calm before a storm is often the most silent.

In the dim sewer, where all sound seemed swallowed into an emerald’s glow, the elf lady’s voice murmured faintly.

“Sylph... My last request. Destroy it... along with the humans of this cursed city...”

The elf slit her wrist.

Dark crimson blood spilled, staining the emerald.

A maelstrom engulfed the city.

---

**[The southern part of Bondales became the land of an eternal, wrathful maelstrom.]**

**[At its center stood a towering spire that reached beyond the sky.]**

**[Its essence was wind, its form the ruins of a destroyed city, built upon the corpses of its citizens.]**

**[From the spire’s summit, grotesque howls echoed intermittently.]**

**[From the spire’s summit, the crazed sobbing of a woman could sometimes be heard.]**

---

“Hngh...”

When Lapita regained consciousness, the sight before her was incomprehensible.

The proud wolf spirit, utterly indifferent to her fainting spell, was now cuddled contentedly in a human’s arms.

“Ferin.”

Lapita called her name sulkily.

Ferin, instead of responding, burrowed deeper into Risir’s chest, as if Lapita’s voice were an unwelcome intrusion.

“...”

The elf princess, accustomed to throwing tantrums when things didn’t go her way,

realized this time her demands would go unheard.

Her gaze fell upon the emerald in her hand, now dim and lifeless.

“What is this...”

Half-crying, she muttered indignantly.

After a brief moment of frustration at her helplessness, she looked at Ferin again.

A thought crossed her mind.

If that child had stayed by my side, would she ever have shown me such happiness?

No. Such a day would never have come.

Because she had never expected Ferin to look like this.

She never knew.

That the proud and solitary wolf harbored such a needy, vulnerable side.

The noble and lonely wolf she had known.

The spoiled young lady before her now.

Which one is the real Ferin?

“...”

The answer came swiftly and painfully.

And it carried another truth.

“Did I... truly love Ferin?”

She could confidently say her feelings were not a lie.

But was the way she loved her right?

She never understood Ferin’s vulnerability.

“Damn it! Finally, I can say it! You elves are horrible!”

If not for Risir, Lapita would never have acknowledged this side of Ferin.

She would have denied it relentlessly.

Why?

Because she loved “the proud and lonely Ferin.”

She loved Ferin’s unique aura.

She loved Ferin’s striking appearance.

But she had never cared about Ferin’s feelings.

Never sought to understand her thoughts.

Never truly listened to her voice.

“I see...”

Lapita’s eyes widened in realization.

She had only ever cared about her own emotions,

never once considering Ferin’s.

Ferin’s happiness.

Her previously strange behavior now seemed different.

“Hey, human. I see you didn’t manipulate her. But can’t you show some restraint?”

“Gondola.”

“Yes, my lady! I was just about to—”

“It’s fine.”

“Pardon?”

“I said it’s fine. Leave them be.”

“...My lady?”

The knight, who had always indulged the elf princess, stared at her in shock.

Lapita stood with his support and turned to Risir.

“You. Did I ever say this to you?”

Risir braced himself for another tantrum.

“Thank you.”

“What?”

“You saved Ferin from those shady magicians. Without you, she might have died. For that, I’m grateful. And—”

Lapita glanced at Ferin.

Ferin, oblivious, remained nestled in Risir’s arms.

A mixture of resignation and satisfaction flickered across Lapita’s face.

“Thank you for listening to Ferin’s voice. Without you, I would have found her and made her miserable all over again.”

***

“Miss, are you sure about this? Are you really not taking Ferin with you?”

“...Ferin isn’t my possession. I should have respected her life and choices much sooner than this.”

“Miss...!”

If anyone was most moved by this moment, it was none other than the ever-dedicated knight.

His eyes glistened with emotion, as though a single tap could unleash tears, witnessing the growth of the once-spoiled young lady.

“Drapon, could you return the item I entrusted to you?”

Both Lapita and Drapon chuckled involuntarily at her words.

The item in question was the *Blue Mantle*, a treasured elven artifact with the power to purify and balance the wearer’s aura.

They both recalled the solemn exchange before the mission, emphasizing its critical importance.

Drapon handed the *Blue Mantle* back to Lapita without hesitation.

Lapita, in turn, handed it directly to Risir.

“Hm?”

“This is the *Blue Mantle*, one of the elves’ treasures. It has the power to purify and balance the wearer’s aura.”

Risir glanced at the cloak with a perplexed expression, then at himself.

Lapita, understanding exactly what his reaction meant, sighed deeply.

“I get it. It might mean nothing to you. But just take it when it’s offered.”

“Excuse me? Are you saying... you’re giving this to me? Isn’t this an elven treasure?”

“Isn’t it mine to do with as I please?”

At that moment, Gondola leaned in to whisper urgently into her ear.

“...Ahem. I’ve changed my mind. Forget what I just said.”

Lapita coughed awkwardly, clutching the *Blue Mantle* close to her again.

Instead, she pulled out a small pouch from her pocket and whispered to Gondola.

“—Can I at least give this to him?”

“—Technically, Miss, the contract was with Drapon. Shouldn’t you discuss it with him first?”

“—Why should I? Drapon didn’t even do anything this time.”

“—But protocol—”

After a brief exchange, Lapita looked grudgingly at Drapon.

“Drapon, I’d like to compensate Risir for this mission. Gondola insists I need your permission for it.”

“Ha. There’s no need. I didn’t contribute anything to this case. Let’s just consider the contract null and void.”

See? Didn’t I tell you?

Lapita shot a triumphant look at Gondola.

“...”

Gondola sighed and nodded in defeat.

Yes, she was still a spoiled young lady, with much to learn.

“That settles it, then. Risir, take this. Let me make it clear—it’s not for you. It’s for Ferin.”

“Excuse me? Isn’t this payment for saving Ferin?”

“...It’s just a figure of speech! Don’t spend it all on yourself—use it for Ferin, too! Don’t you get it?”

“Oh, of course.”

“What’s with that smile?”

“Miss, it’s time to leave.”

“No, seriously! Why are you smiling? Are you laughing at me? Just because I conceded? Don’t you dare forget this humiliation! I won’t ever let it go!”

Blushing inexplicably, the young lady hurriedly stormed away.

“...”

Her towering knight bowed deeply to Risir before chasing after her.

“Well then—”

As the dust settled on the events, Drapon finally spoke up, having been waiting for his chance.

“Risir. According to Kella, you’re interested in our guild?”

The seasoned adventurer, who had remained composed even when dealing with an elven princess, showed an uncharacteristic eagerness.

---

The next morning, Risir joined Fien and Lona for breakfast, marking a rare weekend reunion.

“Well, then. Let’s each share our accomplishments from the past few days, shall we?”

Fien began with a smug grin, clearly eager to boast. But as Risir started recounting his experiences—

“Wait, wait a minute!”

Before long, Fien’s initial bravado vanished, replaced by wide-eyed urgency. He interrupted Risir mid-story.

“Drapon’s guild master said what to you? No, no, that’s not it—”

But the most pressing question in his mind was this:

“You... right now...”

His expression turned ghostly pale, as if he’d seen a specter.

Just a few days ago, Fien, a Fifth-Rank mage, had felt an overwhelming gulf in magical power between himself and Risir. It was so vast that he could easily measure it with a glance.

But now?

It was a blur.

Even focusing all his senses on Risir, he couldn’t accurately gauge his magical energy.