Dark Fantasy Normalized – Chapter 5

“Gogos~”

The Master wailed.

Hastily stepping towards the plant zombie, which had turned into a stop-stop event from Gogos, the Master was frantic.

Nervous hands gathered the herbs that constituted Gogos.

“I’ve cared for this little one so much.”

“…Master?”

“It’s okay, Ricir. Gogos will understand. It’s just a child from the soil returning to the soil.”

“Ah. Yes. I’m so sorry, Senior Gogos. May you find peace in the embrace of Plant Lord in your plant paradise… Anyway, what I wanted to say isn’t that—”

I grabbed a seed from the wreckage of Gogos and addressed the Master who was facing me.

“Did you do this, Master?”

“Of course not. Why would I harm Gogos on purpose?”

“I thought maybe you were trying to save my spirit.”

The Master examined the seed of Gogos for a while before speaking.

“Ricir? My disciple.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Could you try that again? Just once more?”

The Master once again summoned the plant zombie.

This time, twice as many vines danced around.

The vines were so substantial they almost looked like wood.

“…Master?”

Our Senior Gogos had indeed been adorable in that field.

A plant giant with multiple arms extended like branches appeared before me.

It didn’t move like Gogos did.

It simply stood there, motionless.

The initial intent of practicing swordsmanship had faded away.

“Master, we’re supposed to be working on addition and subtraction in our class, you know?”

Calculus? What is that? Where did the numbers go, and what are these squiggly things? This is English!

“Master, just so you know, what I just did was simply swinging a sword. It’s embarrassing to even call it swordsmanship.”

“Yeah, looks that way?”

Wounds.

“But Master, do you think I’ll get a chance to face off against such creatures with my sword anytime soon?”

“This one is called Mumum.”

“Oh my. What a cute name.”

The Master had long since forgotten the original goal of improving my swordsmanship through real combat.

The Master’s silver eyes were gazing at me, not my skills.

I don’t know anymore.

Let it be.

Once again, I swung my sword with all my might.

The plant giant didn’t budge.

“Mumum, if you do that, what about my dignity?”

I could only miss my Senior Gogos, who had burst under my strike.

“Master, I’m sorry. I couldn’t finish off Mumum.”

“What a terrible thing to say.”

The Master approached Mumum to check its state.

Oh my.

Oh my my my.

Expressing her surprise while whispering that phrase, the Master covered her mouth with her fingertips.

“Duran?”

<What’s with all the fuss? Just so you know, I’m not interested in a plot twist where that guy turns out to be a swordsmanship genius.>

“It’s not the time to be worried about that.”

<What?>

“Our disciple seems to have been born with a unique color.”

<...Is that for real?>

An enigmatic expression. Shining eyes.

Both the Master and the book were showing that face.

The book has no face, but after spending so much time with Duran, I could tell.

“Um, Master?”

“Yeah? My own disciple.”

What’s with the status of that title?

“What’s this unique color thing?”

“Unique color refers to mana that possesses unique properties and exerts influence.”

“Unique properties? Like the moving plants I just faced?”

The Master shook her head.

“No. That’s merely one branch of magic. Anyone can do the same if they learn the same magic. There might be subtle differences due to specific factors.”

“Then what happens if someone born with a unique color learns that magic?”

“Want me to give you an example?”

The title of ‘Star’, bestowed upon the Archmage who has gained historical prominence.

The Master mentioned the ‘Red Mage Tower’s Great Sage,’ also known as the Star of Ash.

“His unique color is ‘Combustion.’ If he learned the same magic as I did, and summoned walking grass, what would happen?”

“Would it turn into a raging flame?”

“Right. You’d get to witness a spectacle of living plants ablaze.”

“Then, if that Star of Ash used water magic, what would occur?”

The Master gestured towards the ground of the drill field.

The dry earth of the training ground began to absorb moisture, gradually forming a small puddle.

“To summon this much water in a dry place…!”

The Master scooped the water from the puddle with her hands and sprinkled it over mine.

“What do you think?”

“Aah.”

<Drop that nonsense, both of you.>

“Is it just plain, ordinary water with no characteristics?”

“Yup. As you can see, it’s just regular water. It’s magic designed to produce such plain water. Because I don’t possess a unique color, the result mirrors the essence. But what if that magic was used by the Star of Ash?”

“Would it create water that burns everything it touches…? Like boiling oil or lava?”

“Yup. That’s correct.”

“Um… does a spell exist that can conjure lava?”

“Are you wondering what would happen if the Star of Ash uses that? It would probably result in lava that’s much hotter and doesn’t cool for a long time.”

Unique colors bestow characteristics and can sometimes enhance them.

Thanks to unique colors, mages born with them exhibit remarkable advantages in specific magic and sometimes create entirely new spells that didn’t exist before.

“Thus, a unique color is a quality akin to a blessing for mages. Sadly, only a tiny fraction of mages are born with a unique color.”

“…”

After the lecture on unique colors ended, I looked down at my hands.

“So, are you saying my bastard rating has been upgraded from B- to S+?”

The Master chuckled, finding it amusing.

“Oh my. How composed.”

<Given this situation, you sure are one absurd fellow.>

“Is that how I’m supposed to react? What should it have originally been?”

“If it were Duran, they’d be rolling on the ground screaming.”

<I’m a book.>

“And what would you have done, Master?”

“Me? Hmm… well.”

The Master momentarily pondered with a delightful expression.

“If I had the kind of unique color I wanted, I’d probably be unable to sleep for days from excitement.”

“A unique color you desire…?”

Speaking of which, what is my unique color?

How cold-hearted of a bastard am I?

Instead of being happy that I’ve developed a trait, I’m worried thinking it might be a dud.

As if reading my mind, the Master showed me the seed of Gogos she had just collected.

“Ricir, what do you think of this seed?”

“Isn’t it like the core of Gogos? The walking grass? But it looks surprisingly ordinary?”

“Want to see this as well?”

Between the gaps of the plant giant composed of vines, I could see the seed located at its center.

In terms of shape and size alone, it looked the same as Gogos’s seed.

But its state.

Roots entwined around the seed throbbed like veins.

Was it the difference between being alive and dead?

“Mumum is alive, that’s not it.”

“Pardon?”

As if she had read my thoughts, the Master spoke.

“Originally, Gogos’s seed should have been like this. Even if Gogos’s body was destroyed, the magic contained within and its traces would remain. But Gogos’s body was destroyed, and so was the core—well, should I say it was destroyed?”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

With her eyes closed, the Master tapped her fingertips on her lips.

The way our Master does it makes it feel like a mystical magic that knocks on deep memories.

A moment later, “Ah!” The Master waved her fingers charmingly as she spoke.

“Let’s say~ it’s restored. Restored.”

“Restored?”

“Yeah. This core isn’t destroyed. It’s been restored to what it was like before the magic was contained.”

“To the original state… normalization…”

“Normalization? Oh, that sounds good. It’s a fitting expression, isn’t it?”

With a clap, the Master confirmed my casual remark.

That word doesn’t sit well with me. I don’t know why, but the sound of it feels off.

“No, Master. Let’s just keep calling it restored.”

“Nope. I think Ricir’s expression is more fitting. As Ricir said, Gogos’s seed has been normalized under the influence of Ricir’s unique color. If Ricir’s power had been sufficient, wouldn’t Mumum have become the same?”

“Um… so, is my unique color restoration?”

“It’s too early to say definitively. It could also mean annihilation or conditional destruction. Hence, ‘normalization’ is a more general term that fits.”

“Is this why I wasn’t affected by your cognition-inhibiting magic, Master?”

Clap clap clap clap.

“Yeah. Yeah. That was there too. Ricir got hit by the cognition-inhibiting magic but got restored quickly.”

“Please, Master… ‘restored’…”

“Oh my. Oh my. It seems my disciple Ricir truly possesses a unique color.”

<It’s absurd. Are you saying the Bendels have let a unique color bearer be out of their sight all this time? Just because of one reason—being a bastard? Even if they’re a swordsmanship clan, they might have missed it.>

“Then, could it be that I was the first one to recognize my disciple’s true worth?”

<Didn’t you bring in a noble bastard under the guise of a contract? I thought you had finally lost it.>

“Let’s call it the normalization of the contract? That’s my disciple’s unique color.”

“…”

The Dark Elf and the book excitedly repeated specific words for a while.

*

In the office of the head of the Bendel Mansion’s main building.

There stood someone other than the Bendel head by the window, overlooking Heyeren.

“She really is a beautiful place. Heyeren.”

She was the head of the Diltan family, who owned Diltan County adjacent to Bendel territory.

Her reception was conducted in complete silence.

Moreover, she would return immediately after the conversation ended, without any form of hospitality.

Diltan had been in a long-standing feud with Bendel, due to geographical issues.

Yet she hoped that today would be the last.

“Are you really okay with this?”

Bendel asked, somewhat uncertain.

“As you likely know, that person is—”

“It’s my daughter’s matter, so how could I be unaware?”

“…”

“Bendel, you would know about family matters, so I assume you’re aware of my daughter’s situation too.”

The head of Diltan turned away from the window.

She let out a deep sigh.

“I too do not relish the idea of marrying half a Bendel to my daughter.”

Bendel didn’t take offense at her words.

Neither did Diltan hold any grievance.

To those of a proper and noble lineage, a bastard was merely that.

“Let it be a knot that ties our two families together.”

“I understand.”

At that moment, only one out of the involved parties—Ricir—was unaware of the mention of his engagement.

“…”

Diltan glanced at her daughter, who was sitting beside Bendel with difficulty concealing her grief.

The girl looked fragile and harmless, like a dandelion before it turned white and drifted away.

“Is this not a dream? Ricir is to be my husband…”

As the heads of the two families spoke of the engagement, she smiled like a sunflower.