novelraw Chapter 111
Chapter 111
Chapter 111
‘The Mirror of Memories’ was originally a shamanic spell created for the purpose of ‘reminiscence.’
For example, in the case of a child who had lost their parents at a very young age—
By using this spell, they would be able to remember their parents’ faces.
It might seem strange to use such an advanced spell for something so trivial, but for a Beastman, the concepts of ‘family’ and ‘tribe’ were sacred and invaluable.
Even the Great Shaman who first created this spell had done so to remember the face of a brother he had been separated from as a child.
And since then, the spell had often been used for similar reasons.
—It wasn’t a spell to be used like the Master does, to reconnect the film after blacking out from drinking.
‘If that’s the case, then I also…’
—Unfortunately, you cannot view the Master’s past. The only memories permitted to us are those of Iron.
‘That’s a shame.’
I, too, had things I wished I could remember— the faces of my parents who passed away when I was a child, or the old comrades who sacrificed themselves in operations.
They were precious memories, but now, they were fading into a blur.
Especially after I transmigrated into this world—photos and all other mementos had vanished completely.
So yes, I was tempted.
Even if I couldn’t change anything now, I still wanted to remember their faces, at least.
But it seemed that wasn’t allowed.
What I could see were only the memories of Iron.
Clicking my tongue, I took a slow breath.
‘No helping it. Let’s just check what needs to be checked.’
What I wanted to confirm was whether that lunatic who carved sword marks into the Stone Chamber was really Iron.
And if it was, then what exactly he had gained from there.
If I went further—perhaps whatever Iron had obtained in that chamber was connected to the Diary’s change or even to my transmigration.
Honestly, the latter was just speculation—too far-fetched, even for me. But the possibility that it was related to the Diary’s change seemed high enough.
The timing fit perfectly, and given its link to Bestia, it was a plausible theory.
And to confirm it, I needed to see exactly what Iron had done inside that chamber.
—Focus, Master. Just imagine Iron as he was inside the Stone Chamber.
I steadied my mind, imagining Iron entering the chamber.
If Iron had truly been there, this spell would show me the memories from that time.
If not, then it would show the first time he discovered it—with the others, when they first found the Mana Stone Mine.
‘It’s coming.’
The first illusion that appeared was of Iron, staggering drunkenly as he entered the mine.
Inside, he leaned against the blocked earthen wall, sobbing, then stumbled back out.
‘…A dud?’
—According to the muscle-head, Iron didn’t just visit this mine once or twice.
‘Right, he said that.’
—If that’s the case, then just rewind time.
‘Rewind? How?’
—With strong intent. You’ll definitely be able to see the later events.
Just as the rabbit had said— the vision began to flow backward when I imagined the chamber and Iron once again.
Iron drinking again, Iron throwing a fit after drinking, Iron crying alone.
At this time, Iron was always drunk.
‘Where did he even get all that alcohol… Wait, no. That’s the liquor she brought, isn’t it?’
As the fragmented pieces of memory merged back together, things I had forgotten started surfacing one by one.
For instance, that liquor.
It was something he had received as a gift from his former wife.
Before bed—or whenever he wanted to set the mood—they used to share a toast with that drink.
‘It’s got sentimental value. Not something you can find easily anywhere.’
A liquor so strong that even a top-level knight could get drunk on it.
There was no way something that potent was common in this era.
And it wasn’t just one or two bottles—there were several.
To begin with, she must have brought it with some intention in mind.
—A fine bit of tea-bagging. So she leaves and tells you to drown yourself in liquor?
‘Well, that liquor did make me trust in her wealth. You can’t just get that anywhere. And maybe…’
Was it still left somewhere?
Suddenly, I wondered if there had been something wrong with that liquor.
After all, my transmigration into Iron’s body following a failed assassination attempt was suspicious enough.
It felt like sudden death—no matter how you looked at it, not a normal situation.
And since Iron had prevented anyone from touching anything left behind by his former wife, no one had ever checked that liquor.
‘Here it comes.’
After watching Iron make a drunken scene for a while, the illusion shifted again—this time, he was entering the mine once more.
The atmosphere was different now.
His steps were heavier than usual, and the air around him was grave.
He trudged into the mine, and at the far end, began to cry again.
‘That’s…’
After crying for a long while, Iron suddenly acted on impulse.
Unable to contain his rage, he hurled himself against the blocked wall of the mine.
The wall collapsed with a rumbling crash, and Iron tumbled into the Stone Chamber beyond.
‘So that’s how it happened.’
—Just like the muscle-head predicted. Practically prophetic.
What followed also went exactly as Rudick had expected.
Shouting madly, Iron summoned his greatsword and went berserk in the chamber, even channeling Aura through his strikes.
He must have instinctively sensed it.
That this chamber was the undeniable proof of her betrayal.
It was one thing to suspect—but finding proof was something else entirely.
Even then, Iron hadn’t been able to let her go.
‘That… that’s it.’
—Wait, that’s…!
And in that instant—
As Iron swung his greatsword, a section of the stone wall broke apart,
and something rolled out from within.
A crimson orb, glowing brilliantly.
Even at a glance, it was clear that it was no ordinary object.
—Impossible. That relic still existed in this world?!
The rabbit cried out in shock.
It was almost unbelievable—seeing that laid-back, sarcastic rabbit react so violently.
That was no ordinary item, for sure.
‘That… looks familiar. Ah, right. I remember. Back then…’
And I was just as shocked.
That radiant crimson orb was a very familiar object to me as well.
‘No way… could that really be it?’
It was right before I transmigrated here—just after I had finished my last operation.
While waiting near the airport for my flight home, I met a strange old man.
He spoke to me in a language I couldn’t understand, then handed me a bead exactly like that one.
I had no reason to accept such a suspicious object.
Naturally, I ignored him and tried to walk away, yet somehow, the bead ended up in my hand.
The old man who had so smoothly “pocketed” the bead into my palm disappeared into the crowd before I could react.
‘While I was still confused about what had just happened, the signal to return came in, so I had no choice but to bring it with me. I didn’t feel right about throwing it away carelessly.’
When you work in a dangerous line of duty, you start believing in small superstitions—
like how throwing away an item given to you in good faith would bring bad luck on your next mission.
So rather than discard it, I chose to keep it.
And perhaps because of that, or by coincidence, the debrief and inspection after the operation were unusually brief, and we were dismissed immediately.
It wasn’t a weapon, nor a jewel or any kind of valuable—just a glass bead.
Naturally, it passed inspection without issue.
‘I really don’t know what’s going on. Don’t tell me that orb is…’
Even as I was trying to make sense of it, the illusion continued.
Iron, holding the crimson orb, trudged home.
He placed the orb on his desk, then opened his Diary.
It looked like he intended to write for the first time in a long while.
After wrestling with the Diary for quite a while, Iron sighed heavily and collapsed forward onto it.
—That’s it.
Right after Iron fell, the crimson orb began to glow brightly.
Then, that light was absorbed into the Diary.
The orb slowly disintegrated into dust, scattering into the air—
as if declaring that it had fulfilled its purpose.
It was a scene so clear that no one could deny what had happened.
The Diary had changed because of that orb.
‘What on earth is that thing?’
—That is a sacred relic known as the ‘Gift of the Beast God.’
‘A sacred relic? If it’s from the Beast God, then it must be from Lord Bestia, right? So there’s another relic besides the animal statues?’
—It’s an extremely ancient artifact. I thought all of them had been retrieved long ago, but to think one still remained.
It was during the time when humanity had just begun to flourish.
An age when faith reigned above all reason—
and when the gods could directly influence the mortal world.
It was the era historians call the “Mythic Age.”
Thousands of years ago.
Back then, the gods spread their relics—called divine relics or sacred relics—throughout the human realm to exert their power and presence.
The Beast God Bestia was no exception.
The relic that Bestia had scattered across the human world in those days was precisely that ‘Gift of the Beast God.’
—Most relics of that era were one-time-use artifacts. They were used to fulfill a purpose through divine power and then vanished afterward.
‘And yet this one remained?’
—I’m just as surprised. I thought all of them had been used already.
‘So, what kind of relic is this Gift of the Beast God?’
—A very simple one. It grants a wish.
‘A wish? Something like that really existed?’
The Gift of the Beast God was a sacred relic that granted the owner’s wish.
Of course, its scope must have been limited,
but since it was the Beast God Bestia who granted it, the wish would have held great significance.
It was certainly worthy of being called a relic.
‘That’s incredible.’
—Not really.
‘What do you mean, not really? It grants wishes, doesn’t it?’
—If it were truly that incredible, the pig bastards wouldn’t have been driven out so easily.
‘Now that you mention it…’
The neutral god Bestia, close to being a benevolent deity, was said to heed only the purest desires of the relic’s holder.
Moreover, being extremely free-spirited, Bestia would not grant wishes that didn’t appeal to them.
Even when Bestia said, “You don’t have to believe in me,” it had already been clear what kind of god they were—
even more capricious than I had imagined.
‘That’s quite the picky god. If that’s the case, I think I can guess why this relic has survived until now.’
With such selective criteria, it was practically a game of chance.
The phrase “pure desire” itself was vague enough to make success nearly impossible.
Just the fact that the relic still existed proved how impossibly strict Bestia’s standards must have been.
‘So, did Iron succeed?’
If the relic disappeared, that meant Bestia had granted Iron’s wish.
But what exactly had he wished for—and how had it been granted?
‘He definitely wrote something in the Diary. But I can’t tell what it was.’
The illusion shown by the ‘Mirror of Memories’ was from a third-person perspective.
And for some reason, I couldn’t see Iron clearly as he wrote in the Diary.
If it had been from a first-person view, I could have found out what he wrote.
Just confirming what was in the Diary might have told me everything,
but no matter how hard I focused, I couldn’t see that part.
Perhaps the shamanism itself was too unstable.
“Cough!”
Just as I strained to catch even a glimpse of what was written,
a rough coughing sound broke the trance—and the spell shattered.
Behind me, Yuria, who had been maintaining the spell, slumped against me.
She was trembling, clearly exhausted.
“What, are you okay?”
“This isn’t easy at all. I’m so tired…”
—That female has overexerted herself.
It was an incredibly advanced form of shamanism; the strain must have been immense.
She had now completely lost consciousness, resting limply in my arms.
Seeing her in that state, I knew I couldn’t ask for anything more.
It seemed that was as far as the ‘Mirror of Memories’ would take me into the past.