novelraw Chapter 123 : Heaven’s Cry for Valemont
Chapter 123 : Heaven’s Cry for Valemont
(Rooga Valemont’s POV)
The air around Maori’s grove was still heavy, but for the first time in days her glow had returned.
I sat beside her roots, still catching my breath after everything that happened inside my mind.
Her presence was weaker, yes — but steady.
“You shouldn’t have pushed yourself that far,” she said softly. “Your mana still wavers.”
“I’m fine,” I answered, though my chest still throbbed faintly. “Besides, I think… something inside me changed.”
Before I could step back, a familiar chime echoed in my mind.
The world shimmered for a moment, and a translucent screen appeared before my eyes.
[System Notification — New Spell Acquired]
[Supreme Elven Spell — Serenity Rain]
Effect: Bless the land with peace and calm. Cure any pain — physical or mental.
Description: The ultimate spell of the ancient elves, learned only by those who have lived through countless ages.
Requirements:
— Aqua Bloom (Perfect Mastery) used as healing with pure heart.
— Mana Capacity: Grand Mage or higher.
I froze.
Grand Mage.
That was Mother’s title.
Selene Valemont — Grand Mage of Asterion.
I stared at the message, breath caught in my throat.
“...Grand Mage,” I whispered. “I actually reached her level.”
Maori tilted her head. “You’re muttering again, my caretaker. Have the spirits started whispering in your head too?”
I looked up quickly, realizing she couldn’t see the HUD.
“Oh, uh… just talking to myself,” I said, forcing a small laugh.
She sighed softly. “You really are strange sometimes.”
The mana inside me surged, calm yet vast.
It wasn’t burning like before — it was flowing, endless, waiting.
Something told me this spell wasn’t just mine.
It was the culmination of every bloom, every life touched by Maori’s light, every fragment of peace we had fought for.
“Let’s try something,” I said, half to myself.
Maori frowned. “Rooga—”
Too late.
Mana burst outward from my core — brilliant and green, sweeping through the grove like a wave.
The sky darkened, not in storm, but in silence.
The air itself began to glow.
A massive magic circle bloomed across the heavens, lines of ancient runes spinning like constellations reborn.
I felt my feet leave the ground, the power lifting me as though the world itself wanted to see.
“By the roots…” Maori whispered, her eyes wide.
My vision blurred, my body wrapped in light.
The HUD’s voice echoed faintly in my mind:
[Supreme Elven Spell — Serenity Rain — Cast.]
The sky opened.
The first drop fell — warm, gentle, glowing.
Then another.
And another.
Soon, it was raining light.
Each droplet shimmered green as it touched the soil, the leaves, the broken stones.
The air filled with the scent of earth after a storm — clean, alive, endless.
Beyond the grove, villagers looked up in wonder.
Farmers felt their fatigue lift.
The wounded felt their pain dissolve.
Even those burdened with grief found themselves crying, not from sorrow, but release.
And at the border, where Elandra stood with the expedition, the black fog recoiled.
She looked toward the heavens, tears falling freely.
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“Ancestor… your song lives again,” she whispered.
The rain carried no thunder, no wind — only peace.
The land itself was crying with relief.
The day would later be remembered as Heaven’s Cry for Valemont.
When the last drop fell, the glow faded from the clouds.
The air stilled.
My body drifted back toward the earth, every muscle weak, every breath shallow.
Maori caught me, her hands shaking.
“Rooga… you foolish, beautiful child.”
Her light had returned — bright, whole — the cracks in her aura gone.
I smiled faintly. “Good… you’re better.”
She nodded slowly, still in disbelief. “You’ve done what even gods failed to do.”
My vision blurred at the edges, the world softening like dusk behind my eyelids.
“Then… I guess I can close my eyes for a while.”
Maori’s voice trembled as she held me close.
“Rest, my caretaker. The land will sing for you until you wake.”
At the same time,
(Selene Valemont’s POV)
The first tremor of mana hit me like thunder.
I was standing in the garden, watching Riaz and Eria chase fireflies, when the air suddenly shifted.
It wasn’t violent — it was vast, calm, overwhelming.
Every leaf shimmered. The ground hummed.
And then, from the direction of the forest, the sky turned green.
A light brighter than dawn spilled across Valemont — not harsh, not burning — but soft, like the heavens themselves had remembered warmth.
For a heartbeat, I couldn’t breathe.
“Selene,” Darius’s voice snapped me out of it.
He stood beside me, his expression carved in shock, eyes reflecting the emerald glow spreading across the clouds.
“Is that—?” he started.
“Maori,” I whispered, my pulse quickening. “It must be her—”
But the words caught in my throat.
No.
Maori had grown weaker.
Even when she blessed the land, the air barely stirred.
This power—this pure, radiant surge that wrapped the world in peace—this wasn’t hers.
It was something younger.
Something human.
Something mine.
My heart froze.
“Rooga.”
Darius turned to me, the realization dawning in his eyes too late.
“Selene—wait!”
But I was already running.
The air thickened as we neared the forest.
Every step vibrated through the soil, the mana around us alive, moving like a living river.
Ahead, the light rose higher — a vast circle drawn across the sky, its runes pulsing in ancient elven script.
Rain was falling now, glowing faintly as it touched the ground.
I had seen many kinds of magic in my life.
Flame, storm, frost — destruction and beauty alike.
But this… this wasn’t magic.
This was life itself singing.
The closer we ran, the heavier my heart grew.
Not with fear — with awe.
We weren’t alone.
By the time the grove came into view, two other figures were already waiting near the treeline.
One of them — silver-haired, steady — turned as I approached.
Elandra.
Her eyes were wide, tears glistening on her cheeks as she pointed toward the sky.
“Lady Selene… the song of our ancestors… it lives again!”
Beside her stood Iris Vaelwyn, her expression unreadable, but her lips trembled like someone who had just seen the divine.
“An elven supreme art,” she whispered, almost reverently. “But… no elf alive can cast that. Not even in the Holy Forest.”
Their words fell over me like distant echoes.
I already knew the answer.
We broke through the final line of trees, and there — at the center of the grove — stood Maori’s great tree, glowing brighter than ever before.
And beneath it, suspended in the air, was him.
Rooga.
My son.
Light poured from him, his body lifted by threads of mana so pure it made the air shimmer.
His hair glowed green, his eyes white with radiance.
The magic circle above him pulsed once, then split into dozens of smaller rings that poured down shimmering rain.
Each drop healed the land it touched — fields, forests, even the corrupted edges near the border.
Every wound of the world seemed to close under his light.
Elandra fell to her knees, sobbing.
“It’s the same light from the Age of Dawn,” she whispered. “The glory of the First Trees… I can see it again.”
Even Iris, stoic and composed, pressed a hand to her chest, eyes wet.
“To think… I’d live long enough to witness this.”
But I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t speak.
My heart was too full — fear, pride, and something deeper, something wordless.
Darius caught up beside me, his chest heaving, eyes locked on our son.
“Selene…”
I didn’t answer.
The rain touched my face, warm and soft — and for a moment, all the noise in my head went still.
It wasn’t divine punishment.
It wasn’t destruction.
It was serenity.
A single tear slipped down my cheek.
“That’s not Maori’s light,” I whispered. “It’s his.”
And when I looked up, I saw him lower gently from the air, his glow dimming as the last of the mana faded.
The rain slowed to a drizzle, then stopped entirely.
The world was silent.
Peaceful.
Alive.
Maori’s great tree shone softly, her strength restored.
Elandra was still kneeling, whispering ancient elven prayers under her breath.
Iris stared upward, her expression lost between wonder and disbelief.
And I stood there, watching the boy who had once been too afraid to cast a spell — now glowing with a power that could heal the world.
My son.
My Rooga.
The Grand Mage of Asterion’s heir — and beyond that, something the world hadn’t seen since the Age of Light.
I pressed a hand to my chest.
My heart was trembling.
He will inherited my title.
My strength.
And yet… what he carried was so much more than mine.
As he touched the ground, Maori caught him gently, holding him close.
Even from here, I could hear his voice — faint, weary.
“I just… need to close my eyes for a while.”
And then he did.
The forest stayed silent for a long, reverent moment.
Even the wind seemed to bow.
When I finally breathed again, it came out as a whisper.
“Sleep well, my son.”
The rain had ended, but the world still glowed —
as if the heavens themselves refused to forget what they had just seen.