NOVEL SIMPLE Chapter-177 Phantasm
Ewan barely held in the disbelief, letting the shock fade away on its own with a poker face. He couldn’t show it, the monopoly on the truth was his edge against the old man, he couldn’t give it away.
“What did you see?” the Governor asked. The stirred Mystic-Anima settled down after the spell ended, and its waves crashed into the walls again.
“He lived here after his fall. He brewed potions, practiced spells, and just spent his days peacefully,” Ewan said. “That’s all, he died after a few years.”
Taria might’ve passed away, but her family still lived. The stacking coincidences led her most likely last living relative to him, and the man passed him the book Perceval wrote at his end. If Ewan exposed Taria’s relationship with Perceval, or even hinted at her mere existence, the Governor could trace that thread to Stefan, and then to the book…
“Did he have anything weird with him? Or did he go somewhere?”
“He wandered around in the mountains once in a while, hunted some game, I didn’t see anything weird.”
“Was there some fruit with him, a strange fruit? Or did you see a weird tree with two fruits?”
“No, did you want me to find it, sir?” Ewan asked.
“Forget it, it was just a whim, I had no hopes.” The Governor sighed, and his grip on his cane’s wyvern-head handle tightened.
“If I may ask sir, this place isn’t that secluded. How did he hide for so long?”
“We...forgot him, he made us forget. We lived with the inconsistencies in our lives, even the gaps in our memories didn’t make us skeptic, he was a monster…,” the Governor said, closing his eyes. “When he died, we finally remembered. The war broke out soon after, and it has yet to end.”
“Is it for that fruit you mentioned?”
“It is. No one knows if it even exists, yet we kill for the possibility,” the Governor said. “I thought was ahead in the race, I had this cave, but it was a fool’s errand all along.”
“What is the fruit, sir? How does it look? I can give it another try if you like, I’ll try to look for it,” Ewan said. All the clues pointed at it, the medallion brought him here for the fruit—it was something that even the Governor and his counterparts fought for after all.
“We’ve all made mistakes, we all have our regrets, it was our chance at redemption, and also a chance that could give us an overwhelming advantage,” the Governor said. “What spell did you cast?” he asked.
“I named it <Remembrance>, it’s a spell I made.”
“It’s still below the limit. Can you cast the Step-1 version?”
“I’ll have to rethink its circuit from the scratch, but it should be possible with some time,” Ewan said.
“Do you need anything for it?”
“It’ll help if I can come here often, the abundance of Mystic-Anima here will make things a bit easier.”
“You’re free to come here whenever you want,” he said. “If you want anything else, just tell Kiev, he’ll get it for you.”
“I’ll have it ready within a week or two, sir,” Ewan said.
The Governor nodded. “Now we can get to our deal. Give it a try here, we can find out its limits.”
Ewan aimed at the Governor and cast <Phantasm>, and the Mystic-Anima gushed into his body from its sea and flooded the spell circuit. The burning and the grinding pain peaked, the amount of Anima crossed the limit, and the spell rose to Step-1.
The space twisted around him, and the Governor’s wrinkles stretched taut, the blemishes faded away, his bent back stood upright, the gray hair blackened, and his foggy eyes regained their light. He was a young man again, and he would live for long—his animated vitality announced its presence. Yet, it was all an illusion, a mere cloak of lies beyond which the old man still stood before his grave.
“It’s quite effective,” the Governor said, looking down at his body. “Even I can't see through it without trying, it should be able to deceive them for some time with my assistance. How long can you maintain it for?”
“If I’m near you, it’ll remain active for a few hours at least. And I can cast again and refresh the effect when it’s about to end,” Ewan said. “If I’m far away, it should still hold for an hour or two.”
Instead of affecting the eyes and the mind of the watcher, the <Phantasm> spell worked on the target, the subjects were different. As long as the spell stayed in effect, the illusion would affect anyone who saw it, even if the caster wasn’t around.
“Plenty enough, I won't need it for that long anyway,” the Governor said. “There will be peace talks soon, the Valbergs are ready to sign the treaty, the church has gained too much momentum for both our comforts. I want you to be there, maintain the spell at its best.”
“Will the war finally end, sir?” Ewan asked.
“No, this is not the first time we’ve signed a contract, it merely gives us a momentary pause to deal with the outside threats. When everything’s settled, we both will find our way to break the terms and the war will start again. It can only end when we either find that fruit or kill each other…”
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