<Mm...> I praised Seren with a pat.
And... Was this one of those fortuitous encounters that seemed to follow protagonists in stories? A hidden master’s legacy, perhaps? A treasure chest?
I wouldn’t mind if it were.
"Let’s go," I muttered, stepping through the shattered opening. Also, I lit up a fire to see the inside more clearly.
"Hmm...?"
My gaze went to the far wall.
"Oh."
A skeleton sat cross-legged on the floor, robed in faded, tattered cloth. A spear rested across its lap, its dark wood shaft polished smooth, its metal head gleaming faintly.
I cautiously approached it and noticed something else.
Words were scratched into the stone wall beside it. The first line was carved deep and neat.
’My name is Iloy. People call me the Mirage Spearman.’
The second line was scrawled beneath it in a rusty, faded brown.
Blood.
’Please, tell Ke...’
It trailed off into a smear. The message was unfinished.
Frowning, I sat down and noticed another thing - a simple, oilskin-wrapped parchment lying on the ground before the skeleton. I picked it up and unfolded it.
[To the one who finds this letter,
Greetings. My name is Iloy. By the time you read this, I will be long gone. A foolish venture has claimed my life, but I refuse to let my hard-earned legacy die with me in this forsaken cave.
My spear, Heartpiercer, and my personal creation, the ’Mirage Thrust,’ are my life’s work. If you have the talent, I ask that you practice it. If the spear does not suit your path, then please, pass my legacy to someone worthy. Do not let my art vanish from this world. The wealth in my storage ring is a gift for you.
Among my things, you will also find a map to a place called the Silent Grove. I sought the legendary wood that grows there. However, you have to heed my warning: the path is extremely dangerous, guarded by things best left undisturbed. Unless you are prepared to face a fate worse than mine, do not venture there.
And... If your journey ever takes you to the port city of Silvermere, I have one final request. Please find the Larius family. Tell them... I am sorry.
~ Iloy]
"..."
I read the letter once, then again.
The silence in the cave felt heavier now, filled with the weight of a man’s final regrets and hopes.
My eyes moved from the parchment to the skeleton.
Iloy. The Mirage Spearman.
I looked at the unfinished plea on the wall.
’Please, tell Ke...’
He was probably going to write a name. A family member? A lover? A friend? I didn’t know.
And... The Larius family. I didn’t know whether I could find them, but if I get the chance, I decided to fulfill his wish.
Without a word, I stood up. Reaching into my own storage ring, I pulled out a shovel. Then, I found a soft patch of earth near the center of the chamber and began to dig. This was the least I could do at the moment.
And when the grave was deep enough, I carefully gathered Iloy’s bones. I laid them to rest in the simple pit.
I covered the grave, patting the earth down into a smooth mound.
It was a solitary funeral for a man who died alone.
A final act of respect for a fellow traveler.
"May your soul rest in peace," I muttered.
And only then did I turn my attention to the legacy he had entrusted to a stranger.
I picked up the spear, Heartpiercer. It felt somewhat uncomfortable, but it was good in my grip. Although I didn’t use a spear, I wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with them. I decided to research it later, together with the respective art.
Next, I took the simple silver ring from the ground. A quick probe of my aura opened it. Inside was a stack of aura coins, a few valuable gemstones, a few sets of clothes, a meticulously drawn map on vellum, and two books: ’Mirage Thrust Style’ and ’Shroud of a Thousand Faces’.
Curious, I opened the illusion technique. I skimmed the first few pages. The core principle was advanced environmental mimicry and personal aura obfuscation. It taught the user to become a seamless part of their surroundings, not just visually, but energetically.
I made a decision. I would study this first.
Focusing my will, I summoned my Phantom Twin. The translucent copy of myself materialized silently beside me. I handed him the ’Mirage Thrust Style’ manual.
"You read this one," I said.
The Twin glanced at me, then down at the book in its hands. It gave a nod after seeing I was already engrossed in my own manual, flipped open the manual, and began its own silent study.
Now, turning my full focus to the ’Shroud of a Thousand Faces,’ I began to read in earnest. The text was dense, filled with intricate theories on light bending and aura mimicry.
After the first hour, I stopped reading. I held out my hand, trying to weave a simple illusion to bend the light around it. The attempt fizzled, my aura sputtering uncooperatively. I furrowed my brows, re-read the passage, and tried again.
This time, my hand flickered, becoming slightly translucent for a moment before solidifying. A small, ordinary step, but it was progress.
Another hour passed. I encountered a complex section on synchronizing one’s mental image with the projected aura field. The concepts were abstract, and I hit a wall. My frustration grew as several attempts to create a simple static mirage resulted in nothing but a waste of energy.
I set the book down, closed my eyes, and just practiced the feeling of pushing my aura outward, not to create anything, to feel its texture. After a while, I picked the book back up.
The words seemed clearer now. I realized the process required convincing the ambient energy to agree with my will.
I tried again. A faint, shimmering copy of a rock appeared next to me. It was slightly blurry and pulsed unevenly, but it held for a full three seconds before dissolving.
Then I tried again, again, and again.
More than six hours slipped by in this cycle of study, failed practice, confusion, and occasional, hard-won breakthroughs. The cave was silent except for the rustle of pages and the occasional sigh of frustration or grunt of understanding.
Finally, I closed the book.
I had read it from cover to cover, devouring every line and note. My mind was full of new concepts and theoretical pathways.
However, I knew the truth.
Reading was one thing.
True comprehension and practical application of the Shroud would require much more time and effort.
Still, it was a good start and reward.
I glanced at the grave before turning to the other Aman.
<How is it? Did you finish?>
He nodded with a smile. <Long before you did. I even re-read it three times, in case you couldn’t understand it, given how your-!>
He was trying to roast me again, so I cancelled the ability and unsummoned him.
In an instant, a new set of knowledge filled my mind, leaving me a bit disoriented. After a few moments of reflection, I took a deep breath, letting the influx of expertise settle. The disorientation faded, leaving a clear, detailed understanding of the spear style.
’The Mirage Thrust Style, huh... What a tricky technique.’
It relied on pure misdirection. The core principle was to use precise footwork and subtle aura projections to create a single, perfect after-image of the spear thrust.
An opponent would see the feint — the mirage — and commit to blocking it. This left them open for the real, physical thrust coming from a slightly different angle.
But the manual was very clear.
The style reached its full potential only when used with Heartpiercer, or a weapon with a similar phasing property.
The ultimate technique involved timing the real thrust to phase through the opponent’s hurried block, striking directly behind the defense they had just committed to.
Without a weapon that could ignore armor or shields, it was just an average feinting style.
But with Heartpiercer, it was a deadly art that could bypass almost any defense.
I was tempted to start practicing it immediately, but I held myself back. I had yet to test my current strength after all.
<Are we leaving then?> Seren asked after reading my thoughts.
<Yes,> I replied. <Let’s find a better training ground.>
<Alright.>
Before we left, we had one last task.
Working together, Seren wove a powerful new illusion over the cave’s entrance, a perfect replica of the surrounding rockface. I then reinforced it with a thick layer of ice, sealing the chamber and Iloy’s final resting place from any intruders.
Satisfied, we turned away.
Stepping out into the open air, we left the hidden cave behind and began our journey.