Chapter 78: Spirits

Ion climbed to his room, washed up, and collapsed onto the bed.

The small room had a desk and a bedside table. The ceiling was low, the walls yellowed, and the bed was old and worn. Yet, to Ion, who’d been camping for over two weeks, it felt more luxurious than Harry Strange’s black-market guest room.

“Ah… I’m alive,” Ion groaned, sinking into the bed.

Even on Earth, sleeping in a car most nights, he’d mutter “I’m alive” when he occasionally hit a proper bed. But this was comfort on another level.

“Why didn’t Dam Ion eat?” Baba asked, gnawing on a banana at the desk. Ion had peeled a bunch for it before washing, and only one remained.

“Not hungry,” Ion replied.

“Dam Ion is hungry. Just doesn’t wanna eat with people. Hates personal chatter over food,” Baba said.

“Not true. What do you know?”

“Sanse told me.”

Lying face-down, Ion propped himself up to glance at Sansevieria by the bed. “Sanse knows me well.”

“Dam Ion, that’s unfair. Got a conscience?” Baba huffed.

“Keep eating your banana,” Ion snapped at Baba but gently stroked Sanse’s leaves. “Sanse… always beautiful, but especially today.”

He buried his nose in the glossy leaves. Despite the mana-rich air, Sanse’s mana felt uniquely refreshing. Ion’s magic, drawing on life force, often caused severe headaches, but he carried no painkillers—Sanse’s leaves soothed them when he rubbed his cheek or nose against them.

Hope nothing’s wrong on Earth…

Recalling the smartphone among the spoils, Ion dug into Sanse’s pot, unearthing Mosi, Ryu’s device, the Giant enforcer’s ring, and… a compact mirror.

He pulled the mirror from its eco-friendly paper bag, careful not to harm Sanse. Made by Daon with Sage’s Eye, it had one last use to glimpse Jin Seongha. Ion could check Earth’s situation—whether they were at war with Giants. He’d carried it without intent to use, unsure how to dispose of it, but now…

Ion lifted the mirror’s “eyelid.” Jin Seongha appeared, talking with Daon. No sound, but the mood wasn’t tense.

What’s this place? It looks familiar…

The wooden table and stand in the background felt oddly recognizable. Then another figure appeared.

“…Saon?” Ion muttered.

Saon, D-NATE’s guild leader, casually handed something to Jin Seongha. Ion blinked in shock.

“Wait, that’s…”

It hit him. They were in the orphanage, and Saon had just given Jin Seongha Ion’s childhood pajamas.

“What? Why? What’s going on?” Ion stammered, gripping the mirror. “Hey, Jin Seongha! Daon! Saon!”

He knew they couldn’t hear, but panic took over. Suddenly, Jin Seongha looked up, staring directly at him. He’d sensed the gaze last time too. Moments later, the Sage’s Mirror vanished.

“What the hell…” Ion muttered, dazed.

His head throbbed again. Clutching Sanse, he collapsed onto the bed. Baba fluttered over.

“You’ve been muttering to yourself. Bored? I’ll play with you,” Baba said.

“Eat your banana…”

“All you say is ‘eat your banana.’”

“What else would I say to you? Got any memories back?”

“Nope.”

“See?” Ion rolled over.

Baba flapped onto his cheek, its soft fur making him flinch.

“What now?”

“Peel a banana.”

“You just ate one.”

“Hungry. No strength. Peel it.”

“My head’s killing me thinking why Jin Seongha’s with the orphans,” Ion grumbled, tempted to toss Baba out.

Five days passed.

While waiting for the dragon, Ion, and for the rest of the team to arrive, everyone stayed busy. Sarah and Killia trained, while Ion, Semir, and Zieg analyzed Giant weapons.

The analysis team found ways to adapt them for aura users. Ion contributed most, but Semir deciphered ancient Giant magic circle inscriptions, and Zieg tested modified weapons. Their teamwork clicked.

“Giants are massive,” Zieg said. “One spear shaft makes shields for thirty aura users.”

“We lost a lot due to sloppy dismantling,” Semir noted. “Master smiths could’ve made forty.”

“Why not raid more Giant armories before the assault?” Zieg suggested.

“They’re not dumb enough to fall for it twice,” Semir replied. “It’d just enrage them. They’re already bombarding city shields.”

“What then? You think the Magic Tower’s Solminium shields will break?” Zieg asked.

When Giant bases appeared, most villagers fled behind city walls, protected by Solminium-enhanced shields from the Magic Tower. Even Giant Ult beams couldn’t breach them. This was why 90% of mined Solminium went to city defenses, leaving little for combatants—and why Onil’s proposal to ally with the Demonkin, offering mermaid habitats, was accepted. Solminium was the only material to fully block Ult, though it had a weakness—a natural enemy the Giants hadn’t yet found.

The Demonkin are desperate to keep that weakness from them, Ion thought. Initially skeptical, he now saw the alliance’s value.

Ion set down a shoulder guard for aura knights, enchanted with shield and lightweight magic. “Sir Zieg, I adjusted the weight. Try it—”

He stopped, sensing a familiar presence. Turning toward the door, he saw four tiny spirits, the size of fingers, struggling to carry a basket of bread. The heavy load made them dip and flutter frantically to stay aloft.

“Food delivery’s here! Let’s eat!” Zieg said.

“Elida’s water spirits,” Semir observed. “The basket’s too heavy. Sir Zieg, take it.”

“Got it,” Zieg said, grabbing the basket. The spirits collapsed onto it, panting. Zieg cleared papers and gear from the table and set the basket down.

“Ion, Semir, let’s eat,” Zieg called.

Semir, already removing her gloves, sat. Ion, still gloved, approached, staring at the spirits resting against each other—humanoid natural beings with radiant, clear eyes and diverse skin tones. These had alabaster skin, wore blue wave-patterned clothes, dew-made tiaras, and butterfly-like wings.

“Spirits… it’s been a while,” Ion said.

“Yeah, you rarely see them without a summoner nearby,” Zieg replied. “Eat. This bread’s fresh—warm and chewy.”

Zieg tore off a piece, but Ion ignored it, focused on the spirits. Zieg pressed the bread to Ion’s lips, startling him.

“What are you doing? Stop messing around,” Ion snapped, stepping back.

“Messing? You weren’t eating, so I brought it to your mouth.”

“I’m not eating. You eat it.”

“Will I ever see you put food in your mouth?” Zieg sighed, eating the bread himself.

Semir, spreading jam with a knife, asked, “Does Master Ion avoid eating publicly due to a school taboo?”

“No, it’s not…” Ion began.

“Nope. Dam Ion eats fine with me,” Baba interjected proudly.

-…!

-…!

The spirits jumped at Baba, who plopped down by the bread basket.

“I’ve seen it lots. Dam Ion steals my bananas, eats bread, even ramen sometimes,” Baba said.

“Ramen?” Zieg asked.

“What’s that?” Semir inquired.

“Wiggly, salty, spicy, hot. Tastes bad. Bananas are best,” Baba declared, slicing bread with a wing and nibbling before spitting it out. “This tastes bad too. Bananas rule.”

“Sounds like noodles. If we find ramen, could we eat with Ion?” Zieg mused, ready to stockpile boxes once Earth trade began.

“Don’t believe everything my familiar says,” Ion said, peeling a banana to quiet Baba, who dove in eagerly.

-…?

-…!

The spirits, unaware Baba was a Giant chimera, approached curiously, one even poking it.

“What? Who’re you? I’m eating. Don’t bother a dining bat,” Baba grumbled.

-…?

-…!

The spirits gathered around Baba, sitting in a circle like they were watching a play.

“Dam Ion, what are they? Why’re they doing this?” Baba asked.

“You’re too weird-looking, so they’re curious,” Ion said.

“I’m handsome. Cool. Sexy.”

“Where’d you learn those words?”

“He says that to himself in the mirror,” Baba said, pointing a claw at Zieg.

Zieg grinned, unfazed. “Yup. Three times a day, I tell my reflection, ‘I’m perfect,’ ‘I’m handsome and sexy,’ ‘I’m essential to the world.’ It’s self-affirmation time.”

Ion ignored Zieg’s useless confidence, watching the spirits giggle at banana bits on Baba’s mouth. Their laughter sounded like a song, as it always had to Ion, even back at the orphanage.

The orphanage spirits obeyed Teacher, watching punishments with wide eyes. Some laughed at the pained, writhing orphans—not out of malice, but innocent amusement at their struggles.

When an orphan was locked in a dark solitary cell for misdeeds, with no visitors or light, spirits applied salve to Ion’s calves, thighs, and hands. But the next morning, they’d spill his meager meal on the dirty floor, upset he hadn’t played with them all night.

Because of this, the orphans hated spirits.

All except Ion.