Yuric would come and go from Tristan’s house every day, much like a mage would enter and exit a laboratory, studying, researching, drawing, and sculpting. Tristan was no longer the gloomy, dirty old man he used to be; he exuded an aura similar to that of a retired professor. However, due to his severe illness, he appeared so thin and frail that even Yuric could do nothing about it.
Tristan, who had lived in isolation from society for nearly twenty years, began to show some interest in how the world had changed during this time. Yuric bought a weekly magazine that stylish mages would carry and gave it to Tristan, who spent the whole day reading it.
“Herbal bread, you said? This is truly delicious.”
Tristan especially loved Adrian’s herbal bread. Therefore, Yuric baked bread every two days. Because of this, Tristan’s house now carried a faint herbal scent.
“Would you like to go out to the yard?”
“…The yard?”
“The feeling of sitting in a chair and basking in the warm sunlight is indescribable.”
After much contemplation, Tristan finally went out to the yard with Yuric. The yard, which Yuric had tidied up neatly, looked beautiful enough to be unrecognizable. Seeing this, a flower that had long wilted in Tristan’s heart bloomed again.
“How lovely. How lovely.”
A smile spread across Tristan’s deep wrinkles. He sat on a chair in the yard, leaning against the backrest, basking in the warm sunlight, and took a rare afternoon nap. Yuric drew a picture while watching him. A modest house, a well-maintained yard, and the peaceful figure of a hero sleeping in a chair.
After waking up from a short nap, Tristan felt genuinely good. Gazing at the clear sky, he recounted stories from long ago with his companions to Yuric.
“Young days were truly intense… but I miss those times.”
“Where are your companions?”
“Almost all have passed away. I don’t know how many are left… I want to visit their graves.”
Tristan’s gaze became wistful.
“Then why not visit them?”
“…I can’t afford it.”
He looked down at his withered body, as dry as an old tree.
Although he had promised himself not to care anymore, there was an inexplicable sense of loss.
“Then will they be forgotten like that?”
Hearing these words, Tristan felt a strange tightness in his chest.
That day, after Yuric left, Tristan lay awake in bed, pondering for a long time.
The next day, Tristan spoke to Yuric, who was reading a magic book.
“Yuric, can you really cure my illness?”
Yuric looked at Tristan with surprise, then his gaze softened and turned serious as he replied.
“Honestly, I can’t promise it unequivocally. But I will do my best.”
“Then… I’ll struggle until the end.”
This was the moment Yuric had been waiting for. He immediately went to the mage tower to make medicine.
The former elder Diocles, who had already given up hope, brightened up hearing that senior Tristan wanted to receive treatment.
“What wonderful news! I thought it was over and had given up!”
Other mages suffering from mana blockage were also being treated, making it easier to find good materials.
Those in better condition used medicines containing mayra mushrooms, while those in worse condition used dragon scale powder.
However, Yuric believed that since Tristan had suffered from the disease for too long, starting with strong medicines might place a heavy burden on his body. Thus, he judged it appropriate to start with a mayra mushroom-based medicine to gradually improve the condition.
Yuric spent the night making the potion and brought it to Tristan’s house early in the morning.
Having prepared for the bath and ritual, Tristan was ready for the treatment.
“Since you’ve been ill for a long time, you might feel some pain.”
Tristan smiled faintly and said, “I’ve braced myself for death. What’s a little pain?”
“Understood.”
Tristan swallowed the potion in one gulp, and his body immediately reacted. Yuric watched closely, knowing that the passage was blocked and that he couldn’t circulate mana through the circuits. Initially, he could only rely on the potion, hoping for a slight opening.
Fortunately, there was no significant adverse reaction. Yuric continued to use the potion daily, monitoring the progress.
After a week, the passage, which had narrowed and been completely blocked for years, finally began to expand slightly, allowing mana to flow.
When he felt the flow of mana, Tristan couldn’t hold back his tears.
“Thank you. Thank you.”
“I am more grateful, sir. But we still have a long way to go.”
“Yes, I understand. I will try. I will try until the end.”
With Yuric’s encouragement, Tristan regained his vitality.
It was just warmth and attention from another person, but it created a new resolve within him.
As mana started to flow, Tristan began to move mana through the circuits, however slightly.
He worked on the weakened passages slowly but steadily, spending his entire day doing so.
After a month, his condition greatly improved.
Yuric judged it safe to use a potion mixed with dragon scale powder, which showed even more noticeable effects.
Once mana started flowing, changes appeared throughout Tristan’s body.
His white, lifeless hair and beard began to grow dark again, and his wrinkled skin gradually smoothed out, regaining its vitality.
His emaciated body gained weight, and his trembling limbs stabilized. Even his stamina, which used to fade quickly when he walked to the yard, now allowed him to walk around the neighborhood comfortably.
Whenever Yuric arrived early in the morning, Tristan would greet him warmly from his chair in the yard.
“Ah, there’s our Yuric. Come in quickly.”
They would eat herbal bread together and chat.
After breakfast, they would walk side by side along the street. It was now a cool autumn day, with leaves falling from the lone trees lining the street.
“Yuric.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Their gazes met.
“I’ve realized that I’ve been living, forgetting what’s important. I thought talent was paramount for living in this world. But I now realize that spirit is equally important, perhaps even more so.”
Yuric nodded with a gentle smile.
“Looking back, I must admit I wasn’t a great teacher or mentor.”
“No, sir.”
“I can’t say I did nothing in saving the world. I’m not as pure as you, Yuric.”
“But these are important factors in life. They shouldn’t always be seen negatively.”
Tristan looked up at the clear sky.
“Yes, that’s true. But believing that’s all there is would be wrong. There’s something equally important. Only now do I realize this.”
The elderly man gently patted Yuric’s back.
“Losing such a life would be a waste.”
They shared a warm embrace.
Tristan looked toward the distant mage tower and asked Yuric.
“I want to go to the mage tower again. Can you help me?”
“Of course, sir. I’ll escort you.”
Yuric tried to get a carriage, but Tristan preferred walking on such a fine day. He walked slowly, sometimes stopping to chat with Yuric.
Twenty years had passed. Overall, not much had changed, but many small things had.
While touring the city, they finally reached the mage tower. Tristan bought a weekly magazine from the bookstore on the first floor and showed it to Yuric with a smile.
“This is surprisingly interesting to read. Especially the word puzzles at the end. There are many clever mages in this world.”
“I found them quite fun too.”
They walked through the shops on the first floor and approached the entrance to the mage tower. Yuric asked if Tristan wanted to go inside. After some hesitation, Tristan nodded.
Yuric had a badge, but Tristan didn’t, so they stood in line at the inspection booth. When it was their turn, the inspector came out again.
“Mr. Yuric, did you lose your badge?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s because sir doesn’t have one.”
“What?”
It had been twenty years. The inspector, who was merely a junior inspector back then, naturally didn’t recognize the former mage tower master’s face.
Yuric pointed respectfully with his palm and said,
“Former Mage Tower Master.”
