**#156. Rainbow, Sun, Rain (2)**
—
Ray sat across from Binjin at the table, the stone tablet laid out between them.
*‘Why did I try to break the tablet?’*
Even if he destroyed it, he wouldn’t learn what happened next in the story.
In fact, it was a reckless act that could have cost him the clue about the rainbow.
*‘It was irrational. Illogical. Inefficient. Unreasonable. And also…’*
As the boy mentally strung together every word he’d seen in a dictionary to describe his behavior, he soon realized something.
*‘Did I snap just now?’*
He lowered his head to check the vessel.
But the moment had already passed, and no lingering emotion remained there.
Still—
If his guess was right—
*‘I felt anger.’*
And it came naturally.
That fact in itself wasn’t exactly surprising.
Over the course of his journey, the boy had strengthened the muscles that controlled his emotions.
He was aware that emotions like curiosity and excitement could rise up without conscious effort.
But this—what people called “annoyance”—
This was the first time he had felt it.
*‘I can feel annoyance, too.’*
His breath quickened.
His heart thumped.
Who would he get annoyed at next?
As Ray imagined opportunities to wield this new emotion, he tightened his mental reins and focused on the tablet in front of him.
The rainbow that fell to the ground.
The sun that fell along with the rainbow.
If the interruption in the story irritated him, that was proof of just how immersed he had become.
*‘I got pulled in without realizing it. It felt like… like an adult telling a story to children…’*
Ray soon found a word that encapsulated that feeling.
*‘A fairy tale.’*
Questions poured in.
What happened to the fallen rainbow and sun?
Could the continuation of the story be inscribed on another tablet, lying in ruins somewhere in the wasteland?
Who wrote this story, and for what purpose?
*‘According to Curiosa and Binjin, tablets are found much less frequently than other relics.’*
In other words, they were rare.
Which meant it was unlikely someone from the ancient era had simply carved a story for amusement.
This was an object with intent.
…Intent.
Typically, written words serve to convey information.
Just like the books Ray used to gather rare and valuable knowledge.
*‘What information was this fairy tale trying to deliver?’*
To a specific individual?
Or to an unspecified audience?
Suddenly, another thought came to him.
Like the notebook earlier—could emotions be felt through the ancient letters on the tablet?
Ray immediately focused his mind.
And then—
“……”
He was overwhelmed by countless emotions presumed to be those of the one who carved the words.
Longing, gratitude, reverence.
Worry, guilt, sorrow…
There were many types, but at the core was one central feeling.
An overwhelmingly positive emotion that dwarfed anything he had felt before.
However, it was so unfamiliar he couldn’t identify it.
*‘What on earth is this…?’*
As he gazed at the tablet, Ray noticed something.
Light was seeping out from the engraved ancient letters.
────.
As if awakening from a long slumber,
as if responding to the boy’s awareness.
But the light was so faint he couldn’t make out its color.
He focused harder, and saw something overlaid on the letters—
mana in a grayish-white hue, in a state resembling death.
The mana was nearly identical in color to the tablet, so he hadn’t noticed it before.
*‘I need to look more closely.’*
The moment Ray reached out to pull the tablet toward him—
*Creak.*
The tablet slid away from his hand.
Looking up, he saw Binjin clutching it tightly to his chest.
Ray said,
“You don’t have to worry. I’m not going to break it.”
“Yes, of course. I know that.”
But his eyes clearly said, *‘As if I’d trust a lying elf like you.’*
“I’m not going to break it.”
“Yes, I’m sure you won’t.”
But his eyes said, *‘I would never negotiate with a liar like you.’*
“I’m really not going to break it.”
“Yes. Naturally.”
*Is this it?*
*The moment to get annoyed?*
Ray stirred the air with more force than usual and knocked over the chair Binjin was sitting on.
*Whoosh! Thud!*
While that happened, the tablet gently floated over and landed in front of Ray.
He focused and cleared away the grayish-white mana like dust covering the letters.
It was dense like cement, but for Ray—who had grown considerably—it wasn’t difficult.
And then—
──────!
One distinct color of mana shimmered vividly above the ancient letters.
It was purple mana.
A strong sense of déjà vu.
And simultaneously, an unfamiliar strangeness.
*…Have I seen this color of mana before?*
At any rate, the purple mana in front of him seemed to be the source of the overwhelming positivity he had felt earlier.
At that moment, a voice interrupted.
“But, what kind of story could it possibly be to make you react like that?”
When Ray looked up, Binjin had gotten back in his chair after recovering from his fall.
“Did the contents of the tablet perhaps bring back bad memories of the ancient era?”
“……”
Ray couldn’t tell Binjin the truth about the story.
Because there was a chance he was aligned with that monocled mage who came to Sector 50 searching for the rainbow.
“It’s a recipe from the ancient era.”
“…Excuse me?”
“It’s similar to modern-day pork cutlet. Apparently, prolonged consumption enhances the rotation of the circle.”
Binjin’s eyes changed.
He eagerly took notes as Ray recited the apocalyptic recipe.
“And the sauce, it says, must be dipped—not poured.”
Binjin frowned.
“How regrettable. Such a flawless elixir, marred by one serious flaw. Sauce should *obviously* be poured.”
Sensing Ray’s stare, Binjin shifted his hips slightly off the chair.
“……”
“……”
There was a brief psychological standoff.
When Binjin confirmed that nothing was happening, he relaxed and sat fully back down.
*Whoosh! Thud!*
He fell again.
As he climbed back onto the chair, Binjin muttered,
“Hmph, you do enjoy your jokes, don’t you. In any case… I’ll now take you to the main reason for today’s visit—your procedure.”
Ray followed Binjin to the center of the tower.
It was a wide space, seemingly left intentionally empty.
“The procedure I mentioned will take place here. Here are the materials. It’ll be easier if you look them over while I explain.”
Ray accepted a thick file folder from Binjin.
“As you know, the elements within a circle tend to tightly bind with those of the same type.
In other words, to combine elements freely, one must first discharge mana externally.
But with this procedure…”
A technique that altered the circle’s properties to keep its elements in a permanently mixed state.
The densely packed formulas in the documents and Binjin’s explanations sounded theoretically plausible.
“Currently, the floor is empty, but if you consent, we’ll begin constructing the magic circle immediately. Also, to continue—”
While listening, Ray diverted part of his focus to scan the room.
First, the floor…
*‘It’s not empty.’*
There was no visible magic circle.
But traces of complex mana lines—likely from a previously used circle—covered the floor.
They were too faint for normal detection.
But the boy felt them. Saw them.
*‘These lines were likely drawn for camouflage. That line connects over there, and that one leads to…’*
Ray soon discovered a familiar, massive pattern.
It was the type of magic circle he had experienced once before in Sector 49.
*A Drain Circle.*
Smaller than before, but unmistakably a drain circle.
He continued his search, but found no traces of any other magic circle.
Instead, he found something else.
*‘That’s…’*
Only one section of the concrete floor shimmered with mana.
Thump.
His heart began to race.
He knew what that meant.
Something fascinating and fun lay beneath, calling out to him.
In other words—it was a lock spell.
And—
Ray genuinely grew interested.
He could feel a familiar piece of mana beneath the floor.
*‘It’s the mana I planted on Khan.’*
One of Binjin’s apprentices, whom Ray had seen in Amon’s office.
When destroying the circle, Ray had instinctively placed a small piece of mana on him.
And now, he felt it—
Directly beneath his feet.
He sharpened his vision further.
The specific section of the floor was raised ever so slightly.
*A passageway.*
Binjin had said Khan was away at a farm retreat.
But no matter how he tried to imagine it…
It was hard to believe there was any kind of idyllic farm beneath here.
There was another, more reasonable explanation for the situation.
*‘Interesting.’*
Ray turned to Binjin mid-explanation.
“Why go to all this trouble to offer me a procedure?”
“…Ah, right. You mean, why I’m offering you the procedure, sir.”
Binjin, as if he had prepared for this, calmly responded.
“I am a scholar of the ancient era. So if you journey to the ruins and regain your memories, I would be delighted.
It would greatly benefit my research.”
But the journey to the ruins is perilous, and he himself cannot accompany Ray due to his students.
So instead, he offers to strengthen Ray directly with this procedure.
“I believe it’s mutually beneficial.
Also, before you leave, I recommend stopping by the mercenary office.
They occasionally recruit expeditions heading for the ruins.”
“Good advice. It certainly seems mutually beneficial.”
Binjin’s expression and tone were sincere.
But Ray saw right through the mask.
He mentally reviewed the reliable insights he had gained from observing Binjin’s emotional shifts so far.
*‘First off, the procedure itself is real.’*
However, the documents and explanations were fake.
Binjin had never intended to perform the procedure.
Everything was bait.
A performance to lure in a victim for the drain magic.
But the curious part was—despite clearly planning harm,
Binjin’s malice remained completely inactive.
*‘Why?’*
Emotions don’t lie.
Unless someone can completely deceive even themselves.
On the flip side, could Binjin *genuinely* believe the drain magic would help Ray?
Ray, now deeply intrigued, asked,
“How long would it take to prepare the magic circle for the procedure?”
Binjin covered his mouth with a hand, hiding an uncontrollable smile.
“Are you saying… you’re interested in the procedure?”
“There’s no real reason to refuse.”
“If we start today… I promise, no later than ten days.”
“Ten days. That’s too late.”
Sensing Ray’s hesitation, Binjin quickly added,
“If we extend working hours, it can be done within a week.”
“A week. That’s acceptable.”
Relieved, Binjin said,
“Then let’s tentatively set the procedure date for November 10th, one week from now. I’ll inform you of any changes.”
“Sounds good.”
Binjin continued with a few more explanations about the procedure.
As he listened, Ray examined the emotions in the man’s vessel.
*‘It seems he really does believe this drain magic will benefit me.’*
Intent wasn’t everything in this world.
No matter how good the intention,
the result could be poisonous to the one receiving it.
To Ray, Binjin’s actions were nothing but harm.
*‘…Well, not that it matters much.’*
If Ray’s prediction was right—
That harm was likely to go both ways anyway.
As he focused on the faint tremor beneath the floor,
the boy thought to himself.
—
