Chapter 306 - Saint Tiffania and Nathan Evenhart
A day had passed, and I had spent it helping my mother with her experints. Later, Kinue and Chloe showed up and stayed with us, chatting while I worked. My mother had an idea and tried to collaborate with by casting the spell at the sa ti. Since we were related, our mana was compatible, making it possible, though delicate.
Her idea was simple: as a summoner, my mana was alive. And because I had the mana of a High Elf, it was even more vibrant. So we perford our classic Fertile Soil spell, but with a few modifications. I combined the plant elent with earth to create the soil, then followed my mother's suggestion and added the fire elent to warm the mixture, gradually introducing water while using the air elent to blend everything together. I also infused it with the lightning elent to generate energy, activating the tiny minerals and enriching the soil. At the sa ti, my mother used her plant elent to generate tiny plants within that chaotic fusion, plants that would provide extra vitamins. Only she could manipulate the plant elent so precisely, creating tiny flora that rged into the mixture while the wind kept everything stirring.
It might sound simple, but combining so many elents was an imnse challenge. It was almost like sewing—except the needle was scorching hot, burning my fingers. That’s how it felt to have mana flowing through my mana channels. I was drenched in sweat but kept the spell going. In the end, we created a rich, dark brown soil, slightly moist. But… it was more than that. It was a supercharged enchanted fertilizer.
The amount we produced was small, but my mother imdiately began spreading it where the incubator carnivorous plants had been planted. These plants couldn’t be forced to grow using the plant elent, or they would die. So, my mother’s plan was to enrich the soil as much as possible. These plants needed to absorb nutrients naturally to grow, and once they died, they would leave behind a parasitic seed.
The result of our elental fusion was a magically enhanced super-fertile soil. My mother explained that the goal wasn’t to accelerate the process but to create stronger plant soldiers—or ones that could use a host as a vessel without it being a human. She also wanted to extend the lifespan of a plant inside a host. If she could find a way to prevent the plant from dying, she would have a soldier that remained active indefinitely. But for that to happen, the plant had to be fully compatible with its new body.
My mother is truly talented…
She had no intention of using this on people—her goal was simply to control pests that destroyed crops. But… her spell could easily be turned into a dangerous weapon.
We were gathered in a room, talking. Martha was serving so cookies, and another maid had left a tray with cake and tea.
"It will be sothing simple, Katherine," said Adrihna. "I’m sure they’ve been through similar training before."
My aunt Margie took a sip from her cup.
"We’ve already dropped each of them into a forest in the middle of a wild region with nothing but a knife to survive. They weren’t allowed to use magic. They had to fend for themselves for fifteen days when they were just eleven years old."
Saint Tiffania stared at my aunt, her eyes wide in shock.
"The elves have similar training in the forest… but usually in controlled areas. Nothing this dangerous…" Tiffania murmured.
"You’ll get used to it, Tiffania," Adrihna said with a laugh.
My mother was reading through so books that explained how the Inverted Tower worked. So of them even contained illustrations of caves, minerals that could be found inside, and other resources like its unique fauna and flora.
"Nathan… I think I’ll have to ask you to bring a few things," she said playfully.
Adrihna and my aunt got excited, deep in conversation.
"Maybe this is actually a great idea," Adrihna said to my aunt—they were already talking about business.
"Nathan," Tiffania called as she approached. "May I take a closer look at your hair?"
I had left my silver-white hair exposed before dyeing it. The first ti Tiffania saw it, she had been completely shocked.
"Of course," I replied, and the Saint moved closer.
"Excuse ..." she murmured as she leaned in.
"It's so beautiful. May I touch it?" she asked.
"Sure... but it's just hair," I said.
She shook her head.
"It's not just hair..." she murmured as she examined a strand. She held it carefully, as if it were sothing incredibly delicate.
"I'm touching silver-white hair..." she whispered.
Just as I was about to speak, I suddenly felt two large, soft, round things pressing against my face. The Saint, in her low-cut dress, had gotten a little too enthusiastic—and a little too close.
Oh no...
"Hey!" Cylla suddenly appeared. "Two won seducing my husband is already enough—I don't need a third!"
I laughed internally at her remark, though to Tiffania, it must have sounded like re ows.
"You really do dye it... What a sacrilege," Tiffania said as she pulled away. "It’s a serious cri, but if you see no issue with it and the king has approved, I can’t complain. However, to , this is sacrilege in our religion."
They really take this hair thing too seriously...
"Why is hair sacred in your elven religion?" I asked.
She sat on the armchair beside , a smile forming on her lips.
"I am the second most sacred figure in my kingdom. My role is to be the voice of our ancient traditions and religion. It would be an honor to explain it to you," she said. "Our hair is sacred because it represents our connection to our creator. Before, we were rely spirits made of mana, but she blessed us with bodies of flesh."
Tiffania got excited and told a long story… actually, she got a little too excited, and the story was way too long. So parts, she ntioned, had to be left out—for now, she said, it was not yet ti for to know.
I learned several new things, and certain ancient knowledge gained new layers of understanding.
The title of Saint was originally created by the first generation of High Elves. Even today, there are descendants of that initial generation—those who were closest to the creator of the elves. These descendants make up what is now known as the Council of High Elves. Few outside the elven kingdom are aware of this fact, as their religion is rarely shared with outsiders.
The title of Saint was first granted to one of the elves from that first generation, an exceptional healer. Her ability to wield light magic for healing was so extraordinary that it beca a part of the spiritual heritage of High Elves. Since then, any woman born from this lineage who demonstrates the sa exceptional talent for healing is granted the title of Saint, assuming a fundantal role in the elven religion.
From what I understood, Tiffania’s remarkable healing abilities, combined with her unwavering dedication as a priestess, led her to receive the title of Saint at a very young age. It was an impressive achievent—but also a heavy burden to bear.
Most likely, only the royal family of my kingdom knows the full details of this religion. After all, in the past, the Founding Emperor married a High Elf.
The common people, however, only know the surface-level details. They are aware that elves have a strong spiritual connection and a religion centered around nature, but they have no idea of the true depth of these beliefs.
To the public, elves are simply beings who cherish nature and live in harmony with it. But for the High Elves, their religion is sothing far greater than that.
The elven royal family, as direct descendants of the Mother of Elves, holds the highest position within their faith. They are considered sacred figures and, in a way, "divine" to the rest of the elven people. Their existence is revered as a symbol of the direct connection to their creator.
This status is so elevated that the Saint is not just a healer—it is also the priest of the royal family itself, serving as the bridge between them and the rest of the elven people.
Additionally, the Saint plays a crucial role as the spokesperson for the royal family. They convey the will and guidance of the lineage to the people, reinforcing the monarchy’s place at the top of both the spiritual and political hierarchy.
I must have committed so kind of serious cri when I called Syvis an idiot the first ti I t her, I thought.
***
I was in my office. I let the won continue their conversation, realizing they were getting into topics that were rather embarrassing for a man to overhear.
"Let’s try this one more ti…" I murmured to myself.
I promise to dedicate my ti to being with Kinue and Chloe and set aside my personal hobby of reading ancient books about the empire’s foundation, ancient civilizations, and other historical docunts. But… since they are busy, I figure there's no problem in dedicating this ti to my hobby.
I sat in my office chair and retrieved a docunt from my storage bracelet:
"I am as light as the wind, yet I do not dance with it.
I am part of all that lives, yet I am never seen.
When I leave Midgard, all things cease,
And the void takes my place.
Who am I?"
Once again, I found myself stuck on the riddle.
"Well, Icarus? Do you accept my offer? I could solve this in a second," Athena said, appearing beside .
I glanced at the goddess, then back at the riddle in front of . Having her by my side would certainly be a great help.
"I wouldn’t strike a deal with the Goddess of Strategy over a simple riddle," I replied.
"A sha… But are you truly smart enough to solve it? Riddles are like puzzles. No matter how intelligent one may be, a riddle is a deadly battle of words, an art few have mastered. Many have fallen due to words. A king’s words can destroy n, an emperor’s words can move mountains, and a god’s words can change the world."
I stared at the riddle once more, and the rune glowed brightly. I had never dared to answer, fearing there was only one attempt, and that uncertainty was gnawing at .
"That’s right, Icarus. What if you give the wrong answer and lose your chance to uncover a mystery you so desperately seek?" Athena taunted.
"Soul!" I declared, staring at the letter. "The answer to the riddle is soul. It is as light as the wind, it is part of what is alive yet unseen. And if it leaves Midgard, life ceases, leaving behind only an empty body."
The words vanished.
"Did I get it right?" I asked, but then sothing happened. The rune disappeared, leaving only a blank page.
"No!" I murmured in despair, grabbing the paper, trying to stop it from disappearing, but it simply dissolved before my eyes.
My heart pounded.
"I was certain it was soul!" I said.
"And it is soul... You got it right," Athena said, walking toward the door of my room. Before stepping through it, she turned back to face . "Think a little more… about what soul truly ans."
She disappeared.
I looked down at the blank page in my hands once more.
"Could this be it?" I murmured.
"Aspect of the Soul."
The mont I spoke the words, runes in ink began to appear all over the page. They glowed, lifting from the paper as if they were alive. They danced in the air before , forming sentences. So made no sense, like a letter with missing fragnts. But I didn’t care.
I had obtained text. A piece of the mural.
"‘Another day where no one listens to …’ a complaint," I read, but then I realized this wasn’t a letter.
"Diary of Mimir…" I murmured, recognizing the author of the content. "These are pages from a diary."
The runes continued forming phrases, and then the largest one caught my attention.
"I was searching for answers, trying to avoid what the Song of the End foretold. At that ti, I did not know—or even suspect—who the Traitor that walks alongside the Darkness could be. I had no idea that I had been traveling with our enemy all along."
I read it over again. It was a fragnt of sothing, but without the beginning or end of the entry, I couldn’t be sure of its full aning.
"I see… this letter is just a fragnt of one of his diary pages. That’s why it doesn’t make sense—it’s only a thought he jotted down. The content was probably copied and placed on a single sheet..."
I continued reading the runes I could decipher, and another passage appeared.
"I traveled to Jotunheim in search of answers. I needed to understand that realm’s relationship with the others. I spoke with Queen Angrboda and greeted her three children. Everything seed peaceful between them, yet why did I feel that sothing was wrong within the realms? Perhaps being blessed with wisdom is nothing more than a curse. Among the many visits I made, the one that left the deepest mark was in Alfheim… I regret not doing more at the ti."
I swallowed hard.
"Alfheim… the land of my ancestors," I murmured. "Jotunheim… the land of the demi-humans."
A mixture of excitent and satisfaction washed over . I had found a piece of the past.
"Queen Angrboda…" I murmured the na, but then deep within the darkness of my mind, I felt the serpent stirring, and a sharp pain shot through .
"Shit…" I groaned in agony.
The pain was unbearable. I dropped the letter as my body convulsed. It felt as if my eyes were being slashed open by a searing blade.
I shut them reflexively, feeling the serpent thrashing inside . Just speaking that na had disturbed it, even in its slumber.
"Stop!" I shouted at the serpent.
And then… everything stopped.
The pain vanished.
I lifted my head, relieved, and exhaled deeply. The intensity of that pain had left drenched in sweat. My hands trembled instinctively, and I imdiately understood the nature of the wound it had inflicted.
"Pain in the soul… A na that wounded you deeply," I murmured. "Sothing from your past that causes you pain just by being ntioned."
I knew that pain all too well—because I felt it too.
As I looked around, a sudden shock made jolt upright, knocking my chair to the floor.
"What the fuck...?" I muttered.
I was no longer in my office at the mansion in Apsalon. Instead, I was in an entirely different place. A room. And beyond the open window, sunlight stread in, revealing a breathtaking forest outside.
"Silence," a gentle voice reprimanded . "You'll wake my baby."
I turned to the side and saw a woman holding a child, carefully rocking them to sleep.
I stood there in disbelief at what was happening.
"Forgive , Freya," said another voice, and I realized that the woman hadn't been speaking to earlier, but to this other visitor in the room.
"What do you want with , Mimir?" she asked him.
Mimir? The writer of the diary.
The realization struck like lightning. I was witnessing an ancient mory.
How is this possible? Is this the Aspect of the Soul?
The woman turned around, and the mont I saw Freya’s face, I couldn’t believe it.
"Mother…?" I spoke aloud.
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