There’s a phrase: Deus Ex Machina. It’s Latin for “god from the machine,” referring to a miraculous intervention by divine power that resolves an otherwise unsolvable problem.
I keep reminding myself of this because Ansol’s luck stat is 105 points. Any stat over 101 is considered superhuman, so 105 is beyond comprehension.
With that in mind, I couldn’t help but harbor a vague hope this time as well. Just like during the initiation ritual, maybe Ansol would guide us onto the right path again.
More precisely, I thought he’d lead us to a place that could explain this twisted, tangled situation.
But unexpectedly, the first thing Ansol stopped at wasn’t a place—it was a person. Slowly, he extended his index finger and suddenly jabbed it firmly into someone’s side.
“Uh, huh?”
Startled, Cha Hee-young, who had been deeply focused on her investigation, turned around in surprise.
“Why?”
It was a natural question, but Ansol said nothing. He just stood there, staring blankly. Blinking in confusion, Cha Hee-young looked at us as if to say:
What’s gotten into him all of a sudden?
For a moment, I wondered how to explain it. Then, out of nowhere, Je-gal Hae-sol—who must have snuck up behind us—gave a “shh” signal and suddenly started doing a quiet, quirky dance. Honestly, I have no idea what that dance means.
Cha Hee-young grimaced but reluctantly nodded.
Ansol then resumed walking, and we silently followed.
Before long, we arrived at a place that could truly be called a location. Beyond a gently sloping staircase stood a dome-shaped structure, its surface gray and cracked in places, giving off a shabby vibe. Still, it was sizable enough to be a temple, I guessed.
Since the temple was one of the main buildings, several users were busy investigating inside. One of them glanced our way and gave a nod of recognition.
“Ah, Su?”
At that moment, my brother flinched and took a step back. Ansol had passed right in front of him just as he was about to raise his hand.
He stared blankly after Ansol as he disappeared inside, then suddenly looked at me with a knowing glance, as if he’d sensed something. Quick on the uptake, as always.
I gave a subtle nod, and he quietly joined the group. We hurried after Ansol into the temple.
Inside, the scene was unremarkable—just a bit dim since there was little natural light and the light stones weren’t working.
The interior seemed deeper than it looked from outside, and suddenly, a large statue caught my eye in the distance. Apart from the statue, the space was empty. Ansol was standing nearby.
The statue was about five or six meters tall, muscular, with four sleek legs and a mane—clearly a lion, crafted with exquisite detail.
But it was just a statue. I examined it with my third eye but found nothing unusual. So why had Ansol brought us here?
“Maybe there’s a mechanism? Like pressing a claw might trigger something?”
“Or perhaps it connects to a secret passage.”
The clan members shared their theories and began inspecting the statue. But as we’d just confirmed, there was no sign of any device. Maybe we should focus on Cha Hee-young instead. Ansol wouldn’t have brought us here for no reason.
Looking at Ansol, I suddenly felt something strange.
He wasn’t looking at the statue at all. Despite the commotion around him, he remained motionless, staring intently at the floor to the statue’s left. His eyes were deep and unfathomable, almost eerie.
Then—
“Huh?”
Cha Hee-young, who had been glancing around, tilted her head in curiosity. She knelt down to get a closer look at where Ansol was staring. There, scattered on the floor, were a dozen or so tiny broken stones, seemingly chipped off from the statue.
Suddenly, Cha Hee-young blew a strong breath over them and sat up with a look of realization. Strangely, the stones didn’t budge an inch despite the gust.
“It’s a mark after all.”
“A mark?”
“Yes. It’s a kind of unique language often used by shamans. Basically, a way to indicate or convey something…? Anyway, since I’m a dancer, I’ve studied shamans a bit, so I recognized it.”
“What does it mean?”
She hesitated, blushing slightly.
“Well, I know it’s a mark… but I’m not sure what it signifies exactly. I don’t have enough knowledge to do much with it. Ah! Maybe Im Hanna would know.”
“Im Hanna?”
Right, Im Hanna was also a class that inherited the ancient shaman’s legacy.
Though she hadn’t come with us, she arrived at the temple within five minutes, summoned quickly by Heo Jun-young after overhearing our conversation.
As Cha Hee-young said, Im Hanna immediately recognized the mark.
“Oh my, this is a summoning mark.”
“A summoning mark?”
“Yes. One of the powers I use is called spirit invocation. It’s not exactly the same, but very similar. But why is this here?”
“Oh, so it’s a summoning.”
Cha Hee-young muttered softly, then reached into her voluminous sleeves and pulled out a fan glowing with a blue light.
Im Hanna smiled gently, stepped back a few paces, and whispered in my ear.
“Take a look. Summoning is a kind of spell… Hee-young might be better at this than I am.”
I didn’t understand a word, but just nodded. There were more pressing matters anyway.
As Cha Hee-young quietly observed, she began murmuring an incantation rapidly. Then, with a sharp flick, she opened the fan wide, tracing an elegant arc in the air before suddenly stopping and pointing at the mark.
Something incredible happened. Each stone began to emit a pale glow, then a blue, mist-like haze slowly rose.
The cold-tinged smoke gathered in the air, gradually taking shape. It didn’t take long before the figure looked human.
Then—
A booming shout pierced the air. Startled, I squinted.
The blue-tinged figure was translucent, making it hard to see clearly, but the flowing hair and slender form revealed it was a woman.
What was odd was that the figure trembled all over, as if terrified. And it didn’t seem to be looking at us.
“Is there anyone here who speaks Japanese?”
My brother scanned the crowd and pulled out two small orbs.
“You don’t have to be a mage. If you infuse these with magic, they automatically translate what you hear.”
After a brief murmur, Jin Soo-hyun cautiously raised her hand.
“I’m not fluent, just self-taught… but I can understand a little.”
“Better than no one.”
He nodded and handed her the orbs. Amazing—automatic translation just by adding magic.
“When did you make these?”
“I didn’t invent them.”
He smiled wryly and shook his head.
“There’s a user named Yang Gi-deok. We benefited from him during the Steel Mountain campaign. After the raid, he came back once and gave me some upgraded samples to test. I forgot about them until now.”
His words were drowned out by the woman’s desperate cries.
At that moment, the orb in Jin Soo-hyun’s hand flashed brightly, syncing with the woman’s voice.
“Pfft!”
Someone burst out laughing, then quickly quieted. I glanced over to see Je-gal Hae-sol covering his mouth with both hands. What was “everyone” supposed to mean? The translation seemed off.
Anyway, since Jin Soo-hyun wasn’t fluent, we decided to keep watching. The translation magic only works as well as the user’s knowledge allows.
Then—
Huh? Red bean powder?
“Kik!”
The woman uttered the strange phrase and suddenly seemed caught in an explosion, flying through the air and collapsing to the ground. I had no idea what was going on, but Je-gal Hae-sol was doubled over in laughter.
“Hey, are you sure you know Japanese?”
I wasn’t the only one confused—Heo Jun-young teased.
“I said I only know a little…”
Jin Soo-hyun muttered quietly, her face flushed as if about to explode.
Meanwhile, the woman, who had been bouncing like a baseball, barely lifted her head and muttered,
“Jinhan-gae… Jinhan-gae eung itgo…”
“Kya ha ha ha ha ha ha!”
When those strange words came out again, Jegal Haesol suddenly burst into laughter so loud it seemed to shake the whole place. She laughed uncontrollably for a long while, then, noticing the attention she was drawing, wiped tears from her eyes with the back of her hand.
“Huheh, huhee… Y-yeah, this is definitely a mistranslation.”
“……”
“The Japanese word for red bean paste is ‘anko’… So if you mistranslate the sound ‘aang’ as ‘anko,’ it ends up as ‘red bean paste’ in Korean…”
“……”
Her explanation was a bit rambling, but the gist was clear: it wasn’t ‘red bean paste’ but ‘aang’—a moan or groan. Considering the chaotic aftermath of the explosion, that actually made sense. Still, how on earth did she end up studying to the point of mixing up ‘red bean paste’?
“And what about ‘jinhan-gae’?”
“That’s a mistranslation too. The correct translation would be ‘this guy’ or ‘this fellow.’ I’m starting to get how she self-studied Japanese. Ah, it’s so damn funny.”
Jegal Haesol chuckled again, then winked slyly. Jinsu-hyun kept his head bowed low, saying nothing.
I smacked my lips and refocused on the road ahead. The woman’s figure lay still for a while, her face blank and dazed.
She kept her mouth slightly open, wearing an expression of pure despair, until suddenly—
“Ah, no!”
She shouted out and scrambled to her feet in a panic.
The next moment, she pushed off the ground and sprinted somewhere, desperately reaching out with her hand.
Watching her like that made my chest tighten. I didn’t know if this was some kind of summoning or what, but it would’ve been nice if the surroundings appeared too. With the woman moving and speaking alone, it felt like watching a play.
Then, at that moment—
“…?”
As her outstretched arm came back, I instinctively tensed up.
Because clutched in her hand was something tiny that hadn’t been there before.
A Memoria Stone.
---------------------------= Author’s Note =---------------------------
A bit later than yesterday, but I still tried to update as quickly as possible.
Yesterday was really… sigh…
Writing while trembling like that gave me some trauma… ㅜ.ㅠ
I’ll keep working hard to get ahead of schedule.
If I keep at it, midnight updates or even daily releases shouldn’t be impossible.
At the very least, I want to get back to how I was when I first started posting Episode 1. :)