Chapter 83: A House Too Big for One

“Wait, Lord Sevi!” Killia stammered, grabbing Sevi’s arm.

“Please explain. We need Master Ion too. The base assault—we discussed this.”

“You can handle it without him,” Sevi replied.

“With him, we’d solve it with a hoe. Without him, we’d need a magic circle,” Killia said.

“Then use a magic circle. What’s the issue? Short on Sanskris ink?”

“No, it’s a metaphor, not a literal magic circle…”

“You’re not using a circle? How do you fight Giants without one?”

“Of course we use circles, but I meant it’s like using a complex solution for a simple task—”

“So, are you using a circle or not? You talk strangely, Killia,” Sevi said.

“Move, old man!” Sarah pushed Killia aside, bending to meet Sevi’s eyes.

“Sevi, if you take Ion, it’s like a Dragon Lord stealing your prized Doraio horn for their lair. Your hard-earned horn becomes their decoration, and you’re left with a Sururu horn instead.”

“N-No… Grandpa wouldn’t…” Sevi faltered.

“Exactly. Using a Sururu horn when a Doraio horn would do—that’s what happens if you take Ion. Got it?”

Sevi’s eyes rolled nervously. “But… I really need Dam Ion now…”

“If it’s urgent, join the assault, finish it fast, and then take him,” Sarah suggested.

“No, I can’t meddle in worldly affairs anymore,” Sevi said.

“You’ve already meddled a bit—telling us about the Demonkin, bringing scrolls. And you don’t need to follow the Dragon Lord’s orders. He’s a northern dragon; you’re central. Different domains,” Sarah countered.

“It’s not about Grandpa’s orders. My master warned me…” Sevi trailed off.

“Master? You had a master?” Sarah asked.

“N-No, I grew up alone!” Sevi panicked.

“You just said your master warned you.”

“When did I say that?!” Sevi stammered.

“Now that I think about it, your lair is too big for one,” Sarah mused. “You lived with your master.”

“Water! My throat’s dry!” Sevi demanded.

Killia handed him another glass of iced water. Sevi choked, coughing under Sarah’s narrowed gaze.

Cough, cough.

“Ugh,” Sevi whimpered, pouting.

“Feels like I’m bullying a kid,” Sarah muttered, scratching her head and returning to her seat. Killia followed.

Calming down, Sevi sat sulkily. “I need to take Dam Ion. I had first dibs. I’ve always said I’d need to see the aura lord who sees the future, right, Killia?”

“True, but this is a critical matter,” Killia said.

“Critical? My matter’s far more important than killing a few Giants,” Sevi insisted.

“What, is the world gonna end if you don’t take him?” Sarah asked bluntly.

Hic.

Sevi hiccuped, like a kid caught stealing candy.

Hic, hic.

The adults’ faces grew serious.

“Seriously… world-ending stakes?” Killia asked.

“What’s happening in the Elidivi Mountains?” another wondered.

As murmurs spread, Ion quietly raised his hand. Only Zieg noticed. “Hold up, folks. Our protagonist has something to say. Go, Ion.”

“Where are the Elidivi Mountains?” Ion asked.

“…”

“…”

Everyone stopped whispering, staring at him like he’d asked what the alphabet was.

“You don’t know Elidivi? How?” Sarah exclaimed.

Ion could only curse the novel’s author. To Idea’s people, Elidivi was common knowledge, but Hunter and Hero never mentioned it.

“I knew you wouldn’t know,” Sevi said. “Elidivi is the mountain with the World Tree. You know the World Tree?”

“No. Did you say World Tree?” Ion’s heart raced.

Cosmic Tree. The mythical tree upholding the world in fantasy settings.

“There’s a World Tree… in this world?” Ion asked.

“Yes, a magical tree that keeps Idea’s peace. We need to see it,” Sevi said.

Ion clapped a hand over his mouth, trembling. He stood, slung his backpack on, grabbed Sanse’s pot, and shouted, eyes wild, “Let’s go see the World Tree now!”

Baba, dozing, jolted awake. “What? What?”

Ion couldn’t leave immediately. With the assault six hours away, people begged him not to go. Eventually, Ion, Sevi, and the others compromised: Ion would make disposable magic tools and scrolls before leaving.

“Fine, I’ll make tons of scrolls. No one but Dam Ion comes in!” Sevi declared, not seeing tool-making as “meddling.”

In Noishe’s lab, they used Teacher’s tools to craft items—disposable flame bombs, frost bombs, shields. Ion did most of the work while Sevi stacked scrolls.

Pop, pop.

Each time Sevi pulled glass orbs, parchment, or wood pieces from the air, a sound effect rang.

Does taking stuff from an inventory make that noise? Ion wondered. It wasn’t the system adding effects for a kid.

Where do I start? Should he ask how Sevi used a Level 5 scroll shop? Or if they made the scrolls themselves? Who was this master?

The awakening condition was “striving to save the world from destruction.” How did a seven-year-old awaken?

“Dam Ion, your bat feels weird. Kinda creepy,” Sevi said, dusting their hands after producing dozens of scrolls.

“What? Funny. I think you’re weird! Why bother a bat eating its meal?” Baba snapped, flapping over Mana Sulfur.

“Baba, I get it, but hush,” Ion said. “Lord Sevi, what’s your awakening level?”

“I’m not awakened,” Sevi replied.

“Then how do you use a scroll shop?”

“Shop? There’s a scroll shop?”

“You made those scrolls then?”

“Just took them from home. My master left tons,” Sevi said.

Ion had suspected since Sevi mentioned a master’s warning. Sevi wasn’t the Breeder—their master was. But how did the master make scrolls at Idea’s Level 3?

“I know you’re curious, but I can’t talk here. Ears might be listening. I’ll explain at my lair,” Sevi said.

“Lair? Not straight to the World Tree?” Ion asked, disappointed.

“Gotta pack. Left in a rush,” Sevi said.

Ion, desperate to see the World Tree, felt let down. “It took ten days to get here from your lair, right? Same to go back?”

“I stopped for corn, skewers, and ice cream, so it took a bit. But don’t worry—I’ve got a scroll set for lair coordinates. We can go now!”

Sevi pulled a scroll from the air. Ion’s dimming eyes lit up.

Soon, they left the lab piled with magic items and scrolls, departing without goodbyes.

In the Illiand Empire’s northeast, the Yudran River—named for the former Yudran Kingdom—rages with fierce currents, impassable without magic. Beyond it lies the Goltaia Canyon, a battleground from the ancient war with the Demon Realm. Briefly occupied by demons, it now repels all intruders.

The air rots lungs with one breath. Endless cliffs gape, waiting for missteps. Daytime heat sears skin; nighttime cold pierces it.

Worse, the Last Shadows—ancient beasts left in Idea after the Demon Realm’s severance—lurk, watching for foolish intruders. Unlike frenzied demon beasts, these have survived harsh conditions, forming their own society with unique rules, neither Idea’s nor the Demon Realm’s.

Sevidior Seiraine, the seven-year-old dragon, lived there.

“What do you think of my lair? Be honest,” Sevi asked, eyes sparkling proudly.

Ion looked around. A lavish three-story mansion with chandeliers, gold-trimmed stairs, masterpiece paintings, and gleaming marble floors. Without the barren Goltaia Canyon visible through the windows, he’d mistake it for the imperial palace.

But, as Sarah said, it was too big for a child alone.

“Very nice mansion. You live here alone?” Ion asked.

“Now, yes,” Sevi replied.

“Before that…?”

“I lived with my master,” Sevi confirmed.

As expected.