Translator: CinderTL
Whoosh!
Roland's keen senses instantly detected the subtle yet abrupt energy fluctuation emanating from the Secret Imprisonment Dice.
Even before surprise could fully register on Bronson's face, Roland's hand shot out like lightning, swiftly and precisely snatching the violently transforming dice into his palm.
In the next instant, the invisible Veil of Shadows silently unfurled, gently yet firmly enveloping the dice. It instantly suppressed the dice's surging energy, preventing even the slightest leakage.
Confirming that the anomalous energy had been completely contained, Roland tilted his head, holding his breath as he listened intently for any disturbances outside the room.
Hearing the continued laughter and chatter of his companions in the courtyard, showing no signs of interruption, he slowly exhaled a tense breath, lowered his gaze, and focused intently on the Secret Imprisonment Dice in his hand.
While the Veil of Shadows sealed the energy, it couldn't conceal the dice's dramatic physical transformation.
The Secret Imprisonment Dice was no longer the seamless, pitch-black octahedron it had been.
Like a meticulously crafted mechanism released from its restraints, its eight sharply defined black faces had subtly sprung outward, revealing a network of hairline-thin yet clearly discernible fissures.
These fissures weren't regular geometric lines; instead, they resembled the natural cracks that might form in an ancient artifact, radiating a mysterious and fragile beauty.
Through the narrow gaps, it was clear that the interior was not empty.
The ancient runes originally etched on the surface now extended inward, their ends flowing with a cold, ethereal blue light along the edges of the gaps.
This light possessed a pure, raw energy, like the sealed radiance of a frozen moon. It seeped slowly through the cracks, only to be contained by the Veil of Shadows, forming a hazy halo beneath the thin fabric.
At the heart of this glow, deep within the slightly opened octahedron, a smaller, denser core pulsed with a steady, faint radiance, rotating smoothly.
As the cold blue light swirled around Roland's palm, his gaze locked onto the stable core within the Secret Imprisonment Dice. A sudden wave of familiarity washed over him.
It was the same sensation he had experienced atop the High Tower, when the core's magic element had poured into his body, granting him control over Demon Capital Gilles.
As the cold blue light gradually spread across his entire hand, this sense of familiarity intensified.
Suddenly, Roland felt a connection forming deep within his consciousness, as if linked to some distant entity.
And that entity...
Roland turned his head, following the direction of the connection.
It was located in the heart of the capital, emitting a magic fluctuation eerily similar to that of the core within Demon Capital Gilles' High Tower.
It pulsed with a steady, powerful rhythm, like the heartbeat of a slumbering giant.
But in an instant, Roland abruptly dismissed this strange sensation, lowering his voice to ask, "Mr. Bronson, is there a way... to immediately reseal the Secret Imprisonment Dice?"
"Of course," Bronson replied instantly.
To prevent the energy fluctuations from attracting unwanted attention, Roland raised a hand to stop Bronson from personally intervening. Following the scholar's concise instructions, his fingers danced rapidly across the surface.
A moment later, with a crisp "click" of gears, the slightly opened pitch-black surface of the Secret Imprisonment Dice instantly contracted inward, sealing shut.
The eerie blue light that had been seeping from the gap vanished as if seized by an invisible force, fading into darkness.
In the blink of an eye, the dice—which had moments ago been radiating a ghostly blue aura and undergoing violent transformations—solidified once more, returning to its original seamless, pitch-black octahedron form. It lay motionless in Roland's palm, as if the preceding spectacle had been nothing more than an illusion.
"Roland..."
Still reeling from the Secret Imprisonment Dice's sudden transformation, Bronson paused, lost in thought, before slowly asking, "Where... did you obtain this thing?"
"Mr. Bronson, have you ever heard of... the Demon Capital Gilles?"
Seeing the scholar shake his head, Roland succinctly recounted his experiences in the Mistland.
"Mind flayers... the Pixie Queen... a Lich... magitech constructs... and... a mysterious Demon Capital?"
Bronson pondered, organizing Roland's words in his mind, before chuckling softly.
"Roland, now I understand why Galvis has been following you so closely. Your adventures these past few months alone would provide enough material for that bard to compose a magnificent epic poem."
Roland shook his head slightly, ignoring Bronson's teasing, and cut straight to the point.
"Mr. Bronson, what about this Secret Imprisonment Dice...?"
"Roland, given that it belonged to that Lich and the energy fluctuations it just displayed..." Bronson carefully examined the ancient runes on the dice before continuing. "It's highly likely this Secret Imprisonment Dice truly is a relic from a thousand years ago. If you intend to explore what's sealed within, you'd be wise to find a sufficiently quiet and secluded place."
This suggestion perfectly aligned with Roland's own thoughts.
He nodded slightly, returned the Secret Imprisonment Dice to his pouch, and changed the subject.
"Oh, by the way, Mr. Bronson, I think I've... unlocked the Deep Sea of Consciousness."
"The Deep Sea of Consciousness?"
The scholar, who had remained calm even when facing a millennium-old artifact, now found his pupils constricting sharply.
"Roland, are you talking about... the Deep Sea of Consciousness? The foundation of a spellcaster's being, where Ring-tier spell runes are inscribed?"
When Roland nodded in confirmation, Bronson's breathing turned ragged, his disbelieving gaze sweeping back and forth across the young man before him.
Years of acquaintance had taught him that Roland would never joke about such matters.
After a moment of stunned silence, an overwhelming sense of absurdity seized him.
In his understanding, mastering a meditation technique was a prerequisite for opening the Deep Sea of Consciousness.
And he was absolutely certain that Roland...
had never encountered any meditation technique.
Bronson felt a wave of dizziness wash over him.
Forcing open the Deep Sea of Consciousness without the guidance of a meditation technique to temper the spirit and mitigate risks was akin to building a crystal palace by brute force amidst a raging tsunami...
Every step led toward destruction.
Yet Roland...
had actually succeeded?
This defied any explanation based on mere talent.
It was a miracle bestowed by the Magic Goddess herself!
Gazing at the young man's serene face, Bronson's voice turned dry.
"Roland, how... how did you manage this?"
"I think... it awakened naturally after my mental power crossed a certain threshold..."
Bronson froze at this simple explanation.
After a moment, he shook his head weakly.
Perhaps he had already experienced too many setbacks with Roland. This time, Bronson didn't press further, quickly recovering from his shock.
For the remainder of the time, Roland learned from Bronson how to activate the Secret Imprisonment Dice. They only stopped when Hoby's call for dinner echoed through the house, prompting them to end their conversation and step outside.
Though the dinner wasn't as lavish as Roland's own cooking, it was a veritable feast compared to the meager fare of the Mistland.
Having escaped danger, the group was visibly relaxed.
Even Theresa, who rarely drank, indulged in a few sips.
Her slightly flushed cheeks, framed by her silver hair, made her look even more captivating.
"Oh, right, Mason,"
Roland quickly shoveled food into his mouth while asking curiously, "I've been meaning to ask, how did you end up in the Mistland? Even if you were trying to evade the Golden Valley Kingdom's pursuit, there was no need to go to such a dangerous place, right?"
"About that..."
Hearing the question, a flicker of confusion crossed Mason's face as he held his wine glass.
"I'm not entirely sure myself."
"Originally, I planned to board a ship with a young noble from the River Domain Nations, hoping to reach those lands and figure things out from there. But then..."
He sighed softly, his tone tinged with resignation.
"First, I was refused boarding. Shortly after, I was pursued at the Far Ocean Port. Logically..."
The young noble frowned, lost in thought.
"I had covered my tracks meticulously. I shouldn't have been discovered..."
After several moments of fruitless contemplation, Mason shook his head and continued, "Anyway... by sheer luck, I managed to sneak onto a pirate ship and finally reached the River Domain Nations. But as soon as I set foot ashore, I inexplicably stumbled into the Mistland..."
After hearing the full account of events, Roland's lips twitched almost imperceptibly. He cleared his throat twice and decisively changed the subject.
Perhaps because he had already died once, Mason possessed a remarkably open-minded temperament and didn't dwell excessively on the matter.
With everyone fed and settled, Roland made arrangements for Freddy and Mason before returning to his own room.
Pushing open the door, he found the room exactly as he had left it, even spotless.
"That little Hoby is quite diligent..." Roland chuckled softly, washed up quickly, and collapsed onto the bed.
The soft sensation against his back made him exhale involuntarily.
Gazing at the hazy moonlight through the window, he couldn't help but recall the feeling he had experienced during the day while using the Secret Imprisonment Dice—that sense of… establishing a connection with some entity.
"At its peak, Demon Capital Gilles established two magic wells within the city, serving as the source of pure magic for the entire metropolis."
Recalling Pixie Queen Estelle's words, Roland slowly furrowed his brow.
(End of the Chapter)
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