Call scrolls (2)

Third Person POV

"… nothing is better, it seems."

"It does… It's been so peaceful… for so long."

"..."

"As long as no one notices that we have noticed, things won't change."

"Nia… You know that's not true."

"Is there really no one… no one unrelated to—"

A soft mumble cut through the hushed conversation.

Both Xironia and Novius glanced down at her lap, where a head full of jet-black hair rested.

Alaric stirred, shifting slightly before his eyes cracked open—just barely.

"Mmm… Ma…ma…" His voice was no more than a whisper.

His small hand reached out, grabbing a fistful of her dress, and with the clumsy determination of a half-conscious child, he used it as a grip to pull himself upward. He moved slowly, almost comically, like a bug crawling up a wall.

Xironia watched, amusement flickering in her eyes, as he finally reached her shoulder and wrapped his arms lazily around her neck in a halfhearted hug.

Novius and Xironia exchanged a glance before chuckling softly.

She hugged Alaric back, her voice filled with warmth. "Still sleepy, dear?"

Alaric, still wobbly and clearly not entirely awake, craned his neck in a lazy attempt to shake his head.

"Not sleepy," he mumbled, despite his drooping eyelids.

Xironia smiled, adjusting him so he wouldn't slump over.

"Al," Novius spoke up, curiosity evident in his tone. "How did you break through two stages?"

Even in his drowsy state, Alaric's eyes fluttered open—just a crack. He was silent for a few moments before slowly turning in Xironia's lap, now leaning back against her.

"Uhh…" he slurred. "Mana in the core… went boom. Core clear… done."

Silence.

Then, Xironia burst into a hearty laugh while Novius simply sighed and shook his head.

"Yeah… No use asking him anything until he's actually awake and functioning."

 Xironia smiled and poked Alaric's cheek. The couple settled into lighthearted chatter, occasionally asking Alaric more questions, not for answers but just to enjoy his adorable, incoherent responses. Every now and then, they poked his cheeks or exchanged glances, quietly savoring the peace.

"How am I here?" Alaric blinked groggily, looking around.

"You were sleeping so soundly, so I brought you here," Xironia replied.

That made no sense whatsoever, but Alaric decided it wasn't worth questioning. Some things were better left unexplained.

"So, how did you do it?" Novius asked again. "You're at the Red stage now."

"Oh." Alaric yawned. "It was too boring to clean up each spot one by one, so I gathered and pushed all my mana out at once. And… this happened."

Xironia waited expectantly, clearly expecting more details. When Alaric just blinked at her sleepily, she raised a brow. "That can be done?"

"Well, you see, I just did."

She glanced at Novius, who merely shrugged and leaned back against the headboard, reaching for a stack of scrolls beside the bed.

"Since it's already way past dinner and we've been lazing around for so long, how about we tell Granny about this before we go get something to eat?"

Alaric's sleepy expression brightened instantly. His still-messy bedhead only made him look more like a drowsy cat as he snuggled between his parents.

As he settled in, his eyes wandered over to Novius, who was humming to himself while sorting through the scrolls. One by one, they vanished into his storage ring—until only one remained.

"Huh? Aren't they all call scrolls?" Alaric asked, noticing the similarity. "Why did you choose that one specifically?"

"Because this one is special," Novius said, his voice dropping slightly as he met Alaric's gaze.

Alaric's curiosity piqued.

"Lattite scrolls, or more commonly known as call scrolls, are among the most fascinating artifacts in the kingdom." Novius opened one of the scrolls, revealing a blank parchment with intricate decorative borders. At the top, a small lens sat embedded—similar to the camera artifacts.

Alaric nodded silently. He already knew this, but he let his father continue.

"These may look the same," Novius continued, flipping the two scrolls onto their sides, "but they're not. Notice the difference?"

Alaric squinted before pointing at the blue gemstone at the top. "That one has a smaller gemstone than the other."

Novius nodded. "Exactly."

"But why?"

Novius set one scroll aside and began explaining.

"You already know how to use Lattite scrolls, right?"

"Yeah, you just write the ID of the scroll you're trying to call on the top corner."

"Mhm. Good," Novius praised. "Now, these gemstones? They're the core of how the scrolls work. They're made from Lattite ores."

Alaric frowned. "I've never read about that ore."

"Of course not," Novius said with a knowing smirk. "Books don't hold everything. Some things remain hidden."

Alaric sat up straighter, now fully engaged.

"The reason you've never seen this in books is because the kingdom has only ever found one single Lattite ore." Novius paused for effect. "Out of the hundreds of mines in Razor Peaks… just one."

"Only one?! So that's why the scrolls are so costly."

"That's part of the reason," Novius agreed. "The Lattite ore was massive—enough to be broken down into thousands of fragments. And it has a unique trait: when split, each fragment remains connected to the others. These connections are invisible to the naked eye but exist through mana. That's why Lattite is the key component of call scrolls. The gemstones in them act as relays, transferring sound and image through their linked network. The magic circle on the back converts the vibration in the air and the image and transfers it through the link."

"..."

"That's what most scholars would tell you," Novius added with a smirk.

Alaric blinked. "Huh?"

"It's wrong."

Alaric's frown deepened. "What do you mean?"

"The ore doesn't relay disturbance air—it relays mana disturbances. The magic circle tracks these disturbances of mana when someone speaks and then converts it to mana mnemonics that can be relayed through the link of Lattite ore. The camera artifact requires mana mnemonics to capture a picture and print it out so the lens in the call scroll is already converting whatever is in front of it into mana mnemonics through the same process and then both of these types of mnemonics are relayed to the receiving Lattite gemstone"

"But then why do people not know about that? Shouldn't this be a knowledge out for the public to learn, like many other artifacts' mechanisms?"

"That's because… the less this information is in circulation the easier it is to track the ones who know about it."

"How?" Alaric muttered. It seemed as if his eyes had lost focus, but they returned just as quickly.

"Most people would not know anything, the high price clouds their thoughts and they will accept something for whatever it is. Which means if something does end up happening... removing the bad apple would take much less effort.

Alaric nodded, listening to whatever Novius was saying, silently.

"Lattite scrolls can be easily spied into."

Alaric raised his arms, shocked. "What? How??"

"For reasons that neither I nor the person who created the Lattite Scroll understands, the largest piece of Lattite ore always ends up working as the center of the network of connection... that allows it to be used as a receiving Lattite gemstone of any scroll at any time."

Alaric's eyes narrowed slightly. "How do you know that the one who created it doesn't know why?"

Novius smirked, casually flipping the scroll in his hand. "Because he's my friend. In fact, this scroll? He made it in the first place."

"How is that scroll any different? If it works the same way, doesn't that mean they can still spy through it?"

Novius smirked. "Lattite gemstones only form connections if they come from the same ore. As the one overseeing the Razor Peaks and all the mines, I… may have lied a little about the ore. There was actually a second one."

Alaric gave his father a deadpan stare. "Then why not just say that in the first place? There was no reason to build up a whole plot about a fancy piece of paper and a rock?"

Xironia chuckled at his reaction while Novius simply shrugged.

"This Lattite scroll is made from the second ore," Novius explained. "It was a much smaller chunk, and every bit of it was used to make scrolls. No one can spy on this one."

Alaric absorbed the information before nodding. "Oh, so only you and Granny have these scrolls?"

"Not exactly. There are 14 of them in total," Novius wrote an ID, and the yellowish paper of the scroll rippled, shifting into a milky white sheen, like liquid settling in a glass. The smooth surface shimmered for a moment before a face appeared.

"Hello!" Alaric greeted enthusiastically, his face filling most of the screen.

"Oh, Sonny!" Elowen's voice came through, warm and amused. "How come you're calling me so late at night?"

"I just woke up."

Elowen blinked, confused, but before she could question it, Novius chimed in from beside Alaric.

Novius chimed in from beside Alaric, "He was extremely exhausted. We saw him asleep on his bed as if he passed out the second his body hit the mattress."

"I also reached the Red stage." Alaric's chest puffed up slightly, his voice full of pride as he made sure Elowen heard him loud and clear.

"Hehe, that was really quick. The Dark Red stage must've made your body feel lighter, right?"

"Yeah! Now that I'm at the Red stage, I feel sooo much lighter."

Elowen's smile twitched. "You mean Dark Red?"

"No, I mean Red."

"..."

Xironia and Novius peeked from behind Alaric, their faces showing no reaction—just mild curiosity, as if he had announced he found a good recipe for stew. Meanwhile, Elowen's chair creaked ominously.

"…Sonny," she said, her voice suddenly too calm, "please explain."

"Hm? Oh, my cultivation! I think I got a little bored and accidentally refined too much."

The chair armrest in Elowen's grip shattered with a loud snap.

"What the f—" She sucked in a breath, reining herself in. "Sonny. Elaborate."

And so, Alaric explained, in the same nonchalant way he had to Xironia and Novius.

Elowen listened, nodding along, but nothing made sense. It wasn't just what he was saying—it was how casually he was saying it. Worse, his parents were sitting there like this was nothing.

Elowen exhaled. "I… see. That makes sense. Somewhat." She took another breath, gathering herself before fixing Alaric with a pointed look. "You know what this means, right?"

Alaric tilted his head, confused.

"Before, when you were at the Black stage, you probably felt like your training wasn't working as much as before, no?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Well, now you'll see proper growth again. So start training, increase the difficulty however you see fit, and keep doing whatever—" she waved a hand in the air, "—nonsense you were doing."

Alaric grinned. "Got it!"

Elowen then turned her attention to Novius.

"Oh," Novius said, turning to his son. "Al, go wash your face and freshen up before dinner."

Alaric, still smiling, waved at the screen before hopping off the bed and leaving the room.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Elowen narrowed her eyes.

"Yes?" Novius asked, too casually.

"Do not 'Yes' me with a smile," she snapped.

Novius sighed. "Mother, how was I supposed to stop that?"

"That doesn't matter! He is nine years old and already at the Red stage! Do you know how long it takes the average person to reach that? Twice as long! At least!" She gestured wildly, then jabbed a finger at him. "You were fifteen when you hit Red stage."

A heavy silence followed as all three sat there, deep in thought.

"…Has he still not made it?" Elowen muttered after a while.

"No," Novius replied. "Last time I checked, he was raging about another fragment being wasted."

"Is there any progress?"

"There is… but he says it'll still take time."

Elowen inhaled sharply, pressing a hand over her face. "Haaah… just take care of yourself and him." She lifted her gaze, serious. "It won't be easy if they find out."

.

.

.

"Ugh, I slept for way too long," Alaric groaned as he stretched, stepping into his room. He moved toward the bathroom, rubbing his eyes.

[See? It was easy to dodge the question.]

"Yeah~, I don't know about that, Boon. I think I barely scraped by," he muttered, peeling off his clothes before stepping into the bathroom.

A few minutes later, he emerged, towel-dried and rummaging for his sleepwear. After slipping it on, he sat on the bed, cracking his knuckles.

"I wanna try [Panorascout]. Let's see if Mother and Father have already left for the dining hall."

Activating the skill seemed similar to [Eyes of Panoptes]. The moment it triggered, his vision zoomed out, as if he were suddenly floating above everything. He could still focus on individual objects, but the sheer amount of detail he was perceiving all at once was overwhelming.

It wasn't like normal sight.

Everything in his vision was perfectly mapped, down to the precise positioning of every single object in the room. It was like a mental blueprint had been burned into his brain.

"Oh… it feels like I'm gonna throw up if I move."

[Try moving.]

"Sometimes you should keep your wishes to yourself."

Without hesitation, he forcefully shut off the panel.

'Alright, let's see what happens if I push mana into it.'

The moment he willed it, his core responded, draining mana at a rapid pace to expand his field of vision. For the briefest second, an entire snapshot of his surroundings flooded into his mind.

"Oh, they're still in their room… talking," Alaric muttered. Then, a grin crept onto his face. "How much can I expand this before being on the verge of passing out."

Mana surged again, his range widening instantly. It was incredible—every wall, every ceiling, every single object in his radius became visible to him, like a perfectly rendered sphere of perception.

And then his face started heating up.

A deep flush spread across his cheeks as he stiffened, his body locking in place.

For a second he stayed stunned but then—

Alaric kicked his feet against the bed frame, his body flailing like a fish out of water.

"Holy mother of the goddess—" He barely managed to stifle a screech, hands clamping over his mouth.

Without another word, he shot up from the bed, bolted for the door, and stormed out of the room.

.

.

.

A slow, drawn-out sigh slipped from Eirlys' lips, barely audible over the stretched silence in her dimly lit room.

"Done for the day," she murmured, stepping out of the bathroom, steam curling around her like mist retreating from the moon.

A towel clung to her body, its plush fabric hugging her curves as she padded across the cool floor. Her steps were slow and unhurried, the exhaustion of the day settling into her muscles as she reached for her wardrobe. Without much thought, she plucked the first set of nightwear within reach, her fingers brushing against the silky material before she turned back toward the bed.

She set the garments on the side table and ran her fingers through her damp, snow-white hair. Strands clung stubbornly to her skin, still heavy with moisture.

"…Wet," she muttered, brows furrowing slightly.

A gentle breeze stirred in response to her whispered complaint, flowing through her hair like unseen fingers, sweeping over her exposed shoulders as she used [Blow] to dry the lingering dampness. The wind caused the towel to loosen and slip off her body and gather around her feet.

The gentle breeze from [Blow] was soothing. Light. Almost comforting.

Until—

*Thud* *Thud* *Thud*

The abrupt noise shattered the quiet, startling her.

Her body tensed, eyes darting around the room before realization dawned. Slowly, her gaze lifted toward the ceiling, her expression morphing into an unimpressed deadpan.

"…What is he even doing at this hour of the night?" she grumbled under her breath.

Eirlys sighed, shaking her head before returning to her task, the strands of her hair gliding like silk through her fingers. With her room directly beneath Alaric's, this was hardly the first time his antics had disrupted the night.

And it certainly wouldn't be the last.

She continued her routine, letting the cool night air settle against her skin, brushing over every curve as she prepared for bed and dried her hair.