Hundred Eight

Around a short time after the early morning. In line with the role decided at the recent Chimera Clozen Home Search Conference, non-Mira and Emera faces rolled out to the city. As promised, the remaining two are on another assignment to meet Gregor, another clue.

"It's good around here."

Coming to the parking lot beside the inn, Mira laid down a summons point in an empty place and summoned Pegasus.

"Wow. It's Pegasus...... Cool."

As the white horse emerged from the magic formation with her wings gracefully spread, Emera said in an inadvertently bewitching appearance of Rin and Beautiful, "Can I touch you?" She looks back to Mira. In contrast, Mira told him to ask himself, and Pegasus nodded small when Emera asked him back.

Emera touching pegasus tenderness. The delightful look was like a dreaming maiden.

"See, that's enough. Let's go."

If Mira says so and jumps on Pegasus's back and speaks out, "You two are welcome today," Pegasus hisses well.

Listening to that exchange, she stared at Mira across Pegasus's back, and Emera let her expression shine.

"Can I ride!?"

When Emera says in a voice full of expectations, Mira points to where she left off by shifting her body's position forward.

"This is faster."

To that Mira word, Emera's expression finally blooms with a smile.

Emera, who has no eye for swords, had a vision of a hero at its root. The emotions that begin with the hero himself are eventually directed at the kind of weaponry the hero supposedly used, and from there to his fellow heroes.

Speaking of Pegasus, he's a famous companion among such heroic legends. And it is also said that if you are not recognized, you will not even be allowed to get close on your back. But now, in front of Emera, there was that pegasus. One of Emera's dreams is about to come true.

"Regards"

Fearing and thanking Emera, she took Mira's hand and jumped on Pegasus's back.

"Okay, then, yuck."

When Mira says so, Pegasus wings and slowly rises to the sky.

Higher perspective, definite warmth transmitted from the lower body, the sound of the wind combing the body, the scent of tides drifting from the sea. Feeling them on the sky, unusual horseback riding, Emera rejoices in the panoramic world with a glimpse of the dream scenery she kept wishing for.

"Thanks, Mira!

Emera hugs Mira from behind, so cheerful.

"I don't know what to do, but can you tell me where Gregor is for now?

Mira doesn't realize why she's thankful when it comes to it, she just floats a question mark and the destination puts her gaze around somewhere and around her.

Pegasus was a little unfaithful to the way the two seemed to get along, but apparently they wouldn't notice.

"It's expensive! It's amazing, Mira! From the sky, you look like this!

As she proceeded toward where Gregor was, Emera raised her voice as she was moved by all the views looking down from above.

"Well, that's amazing."

As Emera puts it, the view certainly looks spectacular from the back of Pegasus. But Mira must have felt like a guardian. I was more calm than usual when I was ahead of Emera's shuddering.

That's how I jumped out of the city of St. Polly and proceeded a little along the coastline, pointing to the cliff when Emera said it was that place.

If we land Pegasus in accordance with it, we can see that there are scuffs on some of the cliffs that continue all the way to the end of the line of sight. And when I looked closely at the crease, it was a staircase leading down.

"What a surprise..."

"That's right..."

The staircase, which was built like a decision on a cliff, had no handrails or anything else, and looked very meticulous of what was about a meter wide. I guess I'm still scared, Emera tries to stick it up against the wall and starts going down the stairs.

The cliff was cut so high that its spine was about to freeze. The sea you want under your eyes is pounding the raging waves hard against the shoreline. It looks far away. It was small, but the waves sounded clear.

Although Mira was not as fearful as Emera because she was able to run through the air with the skill of a fairy magician, she felt the fear and thrill of being sucked into the sight of peeking down at the sea.

Emera is surprised to go down the stairs, blown by a strong sea breeze. Mira following. That's how they got there was a small cave. It is wide enough for each person to pass, and continues towards the continental side.

After entering the cave, Emera gently goes back into the footsteps, and Mira follows it again.

That would have gone about ten meters from the entrance, and the door appeared in front of him. The door illuminated by small lights was without any kind of weirdness as it was in a private house, but it was very unnatural whether it was in a cave, and curious then.

"This is Gregor's apartment."

Looking back, Emera opens the door and walks in without hesitation.

(I see. Looking in the sky doesn't mean you won't find it.)

Behind a cave open on a cliff. That's where we searched from above the sky, mainly in St. Polly, but never in sight.

What was the struggle yesterday? It was Mira laughing bitterly with some lame thoughts.

At the end of the door was another cave. But unlike earlier, there is plenty of room. Although not so different in height, there would be four or five meters to the side. Its expansive space was lined with countless platforms, on which was a narrow location and a wide variety of swords. Besides, the sword is not mass-produced like the one sold to those stores, but is just stunning enough to show at a glance that even amateurs are first-class.

"Good morning. Mr. Gregor."

Further back of several platforms. Emera spoke to the grey-haired man sitting in front of a huge drawing version erected against the poke of a cave.

Then, after a short while, the man looked back and saw Emera and stood up. The man wearing black connecting clothes on the ruffle. As far as I can tell, he was Gregor the famous man.

"Oh, are you here? I'll check your grip today!

Gregor, who said so with a smile on the deep face of a wrinkled carved carving, began to fish for the sword on the table as if it were shagging somewhere.

Then a little bit, Fu Gregor stops his hand. Then he looks up and stares at Mira standing next to Emera, narrowing his eyes and slowly walking over.

"Hmm? Who is this girl?"

Gregor, who observed Mira's entire body, stares at Emera only rarely.

"It's Mira. Everything means Mr. Gregor has business to attend to."

After such a brief introduction, Emera takes a step back.

Speaking of Mira, who was introduced, he stared at Gregor. Stunning gray hair but left stretched, with a barren mustache around his mouth. Gregor really takes the form of a one-sided craftsman. Mira felt that although the direction was different from the old gentleman statue she aspired to, there was somewhere to apprentice as a living person.

"I'm not Mira. I have something for Lord Gregor to see, and he made me excuse him."

Having said that and stepped out, Mira heads to Gregor with dignity and takes out the sword wrapped in cloth. It is the sword that was the foundation of the Spirit Sword used by the executives of Chimera Clozen. Mira came this far because Gregor's name was inscribed on this sword.

"Is that a sword? But what if the magician shows me his sword? If you mean appraisal, give it up. As you can see, I'm not free either."

Gregor doesn't seem very interested, so he speaks. Strike the sword on those who decide it is worth it. That's all that matters to Gregor.

"Well, wouldn't you look at me if I didn't say so? You must look familiar."

Without worrying about Gregor's unscrupulous attitude, Mira peels the cloth that wraps her sword. First the pattern, then the twister, sword body and dew, if all the cloth was untied, a brilliant wave appeared.

"This guy... Why do you have it?

As soon as I see the sword, the signs change. Gregor wrinkled between his eyebrows and glanced at Mira with a glimpse.

"Ho. Do you still know this sword?"

When Mira told him to try it, Gregor narrowed his eyes and stared at the sword somewhere nostalgic.

"Naturally. It's the sword I struck."

Right after Gregor said it, Emera said, "Eh!," he said, jumping on the sword Mira held and crawling his gaze as if to lick its sword body. And at the next moment, Emera slowly pulled herself back in the sight of two stabbing eyes.

This sword was definitely the work of the authentic Gregor. If so, we should be able to get a little closer to the core with the next question.

"Can't you tell me who you struck this sword for?

Gregor's sword is, so to speak, a special weapon, thoroughly investigated by the user and tamed by his hands. There is no way that others can hold that sword or handle it adequately, and the difference will appear so pronounced that it will be superior. In other words, both the executives of Chimera Clozen and Aaron can't have weapons that don't fit their hands.

Thinking about it, it is the man Mira met in the ancient ring gate, the deepest part of the Phantom Corridor, who is truly the Lord of the Sword and who Gregor can be sure is the one to whom he gave the Sword.

"What do you do when you know that? What's the purpose?"

As Gregor's low voice echoed, the sharp gaze that dwelled on his will was directed towards Mira as if to stick a blade in his throat.

No craftsman speaks easily of customer information. If it had, it would need a good reason. Naturally, Mira knows all about it.

Staring straight back into Gregor's eyes, Mira took the pattern of the sword and stabbed it between her fiercely intersecting gazes. and hoisted the mouth end,

"Not to eat in the throat of a chimera."

and emitted a sharper glance than a sword to peer at the tip of the blade.

Chimera. That's an abbreviation for chimera closen. And Gregor knew the name. I heard it from an adventurer I know. He said they were enemies of the Spirit.

Production jobs have less involvement with the Spirit than combat jobs. But when it comes to finding a job, the relationship becomes imperative. To obtain the protection of the Spirit, which allows for very delicate adjustments.

Gregor had been granted several spiritual protections in his long life. That's all, there was an intimate interaction with the Spirit.

Therefore, for Gregor, the practice of chimeric closen was also difficult to forgive.

"Let's hear more"

Gregor lowered his hips to a nearby chair and put his arms around him, urging Mira to speak.

"Uhm."

Mira, who answered so briefly, places the sword in her hand on the front platform of Gregor and explains how she got it.

Chimera closen executives who fought in the Phantom Corridor. The man of the Necromancer, dressed in shady spiritual weapons, said he had the sword of this Gregor work in his hand.

The man escaped after the battle, but he thought this sword would lead him closer to the identity of the executives, and visited here.

Mira tells the point concisely.

"Right..."

Having finished listening to Mira, Gregor squeals just one word and takes the sword on the table. He then stares at its sword body, slowly bringing a sigh, and closes his eyelids to trace his memory.

Gregor opened his eyes slightly, putting his sword back on the table with a sinking face somewhere, sitting deeply back in the chair and putting his arms together, staring at the hollow in a blurred manner and opening his mouth.

"The name of the man who gave this sword is Gregorius. He's my son."

Gregor's eyes had lurked the colour of the skilled fierce before, turning into that of just an old man drifting between memories.

Then Gregor began to talk about the memories of the time, as if he were going to even confess.

The sword, he said, was given to his son Gregorius in celebration of his appointment as deputy escort of an archaeological survey group formed in the Ozstein Empire about thirty years ago.

And Gregorius says he's a necromancer. A magician can't use his fighting skills, so even if he has a sword, it's decorative or protective. Even with the same sword, the very reason for existence is different from the swords the swordsmen deposit their lives with. And Gregor does not recognize such a thing as a sword.

But Gregor broke that creed only once. In my lifetime as an artisan, there's only one, the only protective sword. That was Mira's sword.

"Is he alive?"

So grumbled Gregor, once now, stares at the sword on the table. In its eyes, there was a slight relief as a father.

Apparently, the Archaeological Survey Corps went missing a few years after its formation, while both the escorts and the others were investigating the site. Only a few bodies remained in the ruins, and the other members were not found worthy of a search.

Such Gregorius had become the executives of Chimera Clozen. I didn't actually see him, but if you look at the sword, Gregor will know. He said that the care habits that remain in the sword do belong to his son.

"But I can't believe he..."

Is there anything to think about, Gregor dropped his shoulder and said, "I'm sorry, but let me rest today," and stood up and rolled into a simple bed with pleasure.

My son, who I thought was missing and dead, had become an executive of a criminal group that would have been enemies of the Spirit. As a parent, I guess it's a complicated feeling. Mira felt that way, after glancing at the sword on the platform, she returned her heel and left a word of "thank you" and walked out to the exit.

"Mira. That sword is what Mira got, isn't it? Don't you have to take it?

If Gregor says he's off, so is Emera's errand. So Emera follows Mira and asks her to whisper as she stares at the sword she has left behind in a truly unfortunate way.

"I could have asked you what you wanted to hear. I don't need it anymore."

Mira feels completely untrained by Gregor's protective sword. But Emera kept staring at the sword until she left the door.

One of Gregor's items is thoroughly adjusted to the arm of the user, so it would be a hard sword to use outside of the person.

But Gregor's striking sword also had value other than pragmatism. That's an art value. Stunning ripples as powerful as rough waves, exquisite and streamlined, and calculated practical beauty.

Gregor's swords are a coveted dish for collectors who rarely let go.

This sword will also exceed 100 million in extra time if it is auctioned. That's what Emera was quoting.

But I'm leaving Mira saying I don't need a sword like that anymore. For Emera, that's not a sanity shack.

"Mira's the same."

That's what Emera said and laughed when she was once reminded enough by her relationship that Mira was that kind of person, although not sane.