Dark Fantasy Normalized-Chapter 61

Damn. This is infuriating.

If worrying about someone actually resulted in financial loss, I’d be bankrupt right now.

Is this really just some kind of fancy hairball?

I harbored doubts about the orb’s nature, but they didn’t last long.

What I’d seen and felt made it impossible to dismiss it as mere waste.

Trying to steer the conversation back on track, I brought up the topic of "spirit cores."

Given the circumstances, I had a particular possibility in mind.

Perrin, an artificial spirit abandoned by their kin and raised by elves, might lack fundamental knowledge about spirits.

Maybe they were unwittingly producing these cores, unaware of the potential danger to themselves.

“What, are you an idiot? Are you trying to teach me, a spirit, about spirit cores? Or is it that you think I’m some defective reject who doesn’t know basic things because my own kind treated me like trash?”

Well. That possibility was off the table.

Not only that, I’d unintentionally hit a sore spot.

Perrin, sensitive as a wounded cub, had a remarkably low threshold for anger.

Misinterpreting my words spectacularly, their rage steadily escalated, culminating in a sharp display of fangs.

I spoke calmly, careful not to provoke the fragile, angry wolf further.

“I didn’t mean anything bad. I was just worried about you.”

Perrin flinched, momentarily disarmed, but quickly regained their momentum and snapped back.

“Worried? Who asked you to worry about me? Ha. Is that what this is? You think just because I act a little scatterbrained around you, you’re suddenly responsible for me? Don’t flatter yourself. I hate humans. Especially ones like you—”

Perrin advanced slowly, like a predator closing in on its prey.

The proximity was a mistake.

“...”

Suddenly, Perrin froze, trembling on the spot.

“D-damn it… Don’t get the wrong idea… This is… just because I threw up all your energy earlier…”

Before storming off, they muttered something melodramatically like a villain retreating after a fight.

Then, with alarming speed, they turned back and charged at me.

But instead of a hunting wolf, they resembled an overexcited puppy greeting their owner.

Perrin leapt into my arms, rubbing their face against my chest.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Their tail wagged furiously, tangling against my legs.

“Sorry for getting mad…”

Their voice, tinged with nasal sniffles, felt like an extension of their earlier ‘Hnnnnng.’

“When I heard you talk… I started worrying about what you thought of me… Like, what if you saw me the same way my kin did? What if you were just going to ignore me like they did… I got anxious…”

At that moment, all I felt was pure guilt.

What am I going to do if Perrin’s "recharge session" never ends?

Was this pure energy they were taking from me? It felt more like a hypnosis app.

If I were in Perrin’s shoes, I wouldn’t be able to show my face from sheer embarrassment.

Ignoring their wagging tail’s silent plea for pats, I gently patted their back instead.

“Perrin, you’re an amazing wolf. And you’re my precious friend. That’s why I was worried.”

“Worried?”

“Yeah. Someone told me about spirit cores. They said a core is really important to a spirit, and losing one could lead to serious problems.”

“…Isn’t it strange?”

“Hm?”

“That I’m different from other spirits. Doesn’t it bother you?”

“Not at all. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“The opposite?”

“I think you’re incredible, Perrin. You can do things other spirits can’t.”

“Things other spirits can’t…”

“Perrin, you’re not wrong. You’re special. At least, that’s how I see it.”

There was a pause.

The pressure against my chest vanished as Perrin took a few quick steps back.

“…Damn it.”

It was a prickly wolf girl, accidentally baring her vulnerable side, now trembling with embarrassment and glaring at me with tear-filled eyes.

“Bastard…”

I didn’t argue.

No matter how unfair the insult, Perrin had me beat in the "mortification" department.

It was a long while before Perrin regained their composure and acted like nothing had happened.

Finally, they explained the "core duplication" situation.

“Look, as you can see, I’m a mutant spirit with a physical body. So it doesn’t really matter if I spit out cores.”

“Oh…”

“…Don’t give me that look. I’m warning you.”

Perrin’s lips curled into a subtle snarl, though it twitched at the corners.

“Besides, it feels… relieving.”

“Relieving?”

“Whenever I meet you, my core reacts and solidifies. Every time, it makes my insides feel bloated.”

“So it really is like a hairball.”

“What?”

“I mean, is it really okay to just spit it out like that?”

“Why do you care? It’s my core; I’ll do what I want with it.”

“I’m just worried. What if something goes wrong?”

“…”

Perrin kicked the ground, her frustration clear.

“Okay, fine. It does hurt a little.”

“Then—”

“But I actually kind of like it.”

“What?”

“The pain reminds me I’m alive.”

A soft, bitter laugh escaped Perrin’s lips.

“…!”

So, a rebellious half-spirit wolf girl with chronic hairball syndrome and a penchant for melodrama?

The sheer amount of personality traits was overwhelming.

I stared at Perrin in disbelief.

Misinterpreting my reaction, she smiled smugly.

“People like you wouldn’t get it. Not that I need you to.”

Perrin suddenly looked up at the sky and murmured,

“The moon’s incredible tonight. It’s like it reveals my filth and embraces it all the same.”

Her lines and posture seemed overly rehearsed, like she’d practiced for this moment.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes.

Don’t laugh. Appreciate her delicate psyche. Feel the vibe and the aesthetic.

“Perrin… you’re surprisingly poetic. I’m impressed.”

“…”

A smirk tugged at Perrin’s lips, one filled with a bittersweet satisfaction.

It was a smirk that somehow seemed utterly sincere and entirely pretentious at the same time.

“It’s not poetic. It’s pathetic.”

“P-pathetic?”

“Yeah… Only a worthless loner can truly call the moon their friend.”

“Oh… I see.”

Whether my sentiments reached her or not, Perrin seemed pleased as the night came to a close.

“Here.”

She handed me the orb nonchalantly.

“Take it. It’s practically made from your energy anyway. Oh, and it’s less powerful than the last one. That was my first core, after all.”

First core.

I couldn’t wait to share that phrase with other spirit tamers and see their reactions.

It sounded like something akin to “first heart” or… something else I shouldn’t mention.

“But since it’s made entirely from your energy, it’s much purer.”

“So if I eat it, will it have the same effect as before?”

“…”

Perrin stared at me for a moment before shaking her head.

“No. My energy’s already flowing through you. It won’t do much now.”

“Then I don’t really need it, do I?”

“What? Elves would kill for something like this, and humans don’t care?”

“Well, it’s not that, but—”

“Whatever. Just take it.”

“Are you sure, Perrin?”

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“I don’t care about trinkets like that.”

Perrin handed me the orb and left the scene without a second thought.

I had to admit, that was genuinely cool.

Even more so because she gave me something valuable with such casual indifference.

“See? Worrying about others isn’t always a waste.”

With an unexpected windfall in hand, I returned to my quarters, lighthearted and ready for a good night’s sleep.

***

The following morning, Lisir responded to a summons and entered the Mage Tower’s main conference room.

Seated inside were several Gray Tower masters, representatives from the church including High Priest Barodros, and members of the investigation team led by the Blue and Green Tower masters.

It was the official conclusion of the investigation.

“Thus, in the name of the Blue Tower, I declare the investigation closed.”

“Thus, in the name of the Green Tower, I declare the investigation closed.”

A purely procedural formality, it seemed.

The meeting concluded in under ten minutes.

Lisir looked around in disbelief.

All these esteemed figures gathered here for this?

Of course, that wasn’t the case.

Opportunities for representatives from multiple Mage Towers and the church to convene were rare.

Even after the meeting ended, most participants remained seated, engaging in subdued but pointed conversations.

“The Saintess is still in seclusion? That’s quite troubling.”

“By the way, I hear the Blue Tower is still without a Tower Master—”

“Oh yes, there’s news that the roots of the World Tree have been infected by an unprecedented disease. If the church’s assistance is required…”

“Speaking of which, the Gray Tower’s master is still plagued by their wandering curse—”

Lisir sat quietly, listening to the chatter flowing freely around him.

Each remark landed like a bombshell.

Emergency alert! Why didn’t I leave the moment this was over?!

He regretted not excusing himself the moment the formalities ended.

Now he was stuck amidst the polite battlefield of “energy displays,” where representatives from powerful factions tested their might with subtle barbs disguised as small talk.

"Scratch? Me? Oh, not at all. What about you? Scratch?"

"Nope. Not a single scratch here."

Thinly veiled provocations volleyed back and forth for what felt like an eternity.

Eventually, when it became clear there were no weak prey left to exploit, the conversation shifted to more constructive topics.

“The Saintess in seclusion, the infected World Tree roots… could these be potential targets for normalization?” Lisir mused silently, trying to glean useful information from the dialogue.

It was then that a particularly interesting topic caught his attention.

“Now that I think about it, Master Rassiel, I have a matter I wish to inquire about,” said Master Radros, representing the Gray Tower.

Radros, who had maintained a dignified demeanor throughout, cautiously addressed the Green Tower master.

“This concerns the recent delivery of spirit remnants.”

Spirit remnants—lesser derivatives of spirit cores—were items infused with a spirit’s energy, widely used across various magical disciplines, from potion crafting to arcane research.

As a center for broad magical research, the Gray Tower depended heavily on these remnants, most of which were supplied by the Green Tower due to their ties with the forest tribes who controlled their distribution.

“The quantity and quality of the remnants delivered recently have significantly decreased, creating difficulties for many in our tower. We’d appreciate it if the Green Tower could clarify the situation.”

“There were circumstances,” Rassiel replied curtly, his tone as sharp as his gaze.

Radros bristled but chose not to press further.

When it came to matters involving spirits, the Green Tower held undeniable authority. To push too hard risked jeopardizing the already fragile arrangement.

Lisir, observing the exchange, leaned toward Radros and whispered, “Master Radros, may I ask a question?”

“Oh, of course! Please, go ahead,” Radros replied eagerly.

“From what I’ve heard, the shortage of spirit remnants is causing difficulties. Would something like this be a viable substitute?”

Lisir retrieved Perrin’s spirit core from his pocket and showed it to Radros.

“What’s this…?”

Radros examined the core closely.

“…!!!”

Moments later, he gasped audibly, drawing everyone’s attention.

“...!”

Master Rassiel of the Green Tower.

“My word,” Master Enna of the Blue Tower.

“Lisir, that’s not—” High Priest Barodros.

Each reacted with visible shock to the sight of the core.

“Where on earth did you acquire that?”

For the first time, the Green Tower elves in attendance displayed raw emotion before the humans, Rassiel even leaning forward as if prepared to snatch the core outright.

Lisir froze.

He had known Perrin’s core was valuable, but to see even this second, downgraded core cause such a commotion…

“It was a gift from a spirit I know,” Lisir offered hesitantly.

“A gift? Spirits don’t gift their cores!”

“…”

Lisir felt unfairly accused but chose not to argue further.

To the elves, his claim might as well have been akin to saying, This testicle? Oh, I received it as a gift.

In reality, it was just a glorified hairball.

“That core was likely obtained through improper means. As such, I strongly urge you to relinquish it to the Green Tower immediately!”

Lisir recognized the tactic—an elf declaring, This is a spirit matter, hence our jurisdiction.

“I object!”

Surprisingly, the rebuttal came not from a Gray Tower master but from Enna of the Blue Tower.

“You have no right to make that claim! On what grounds do you declare it improperly obtained?”

“That’s correct! Lisir’s ownership must be respected! Therefore, the church formally—”

“Everyone, control yourselves! Show some decorum!”

The atmosphere grew increasingly heated.

“I cannot agree!”

“Then what do you propose?”

“What else? We should hear from the owner, Lisir!”

The masters and High Priest had devolved into a full-blown argument.

All over one of Perrin’s hairballs.