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The group, having heard the interpretation of the inscription from Hildegard, all turned to look at Conra as if by some unspoken agreement.

“Hoho, the Hero’s Egg,” they murmured.

Sophia gazed at the boy with an enigmatic smile, her expression a mix of pride and something else, something warm yet unsettling. Unable to bear her strange gaze, Conra subtly shifted his body, only to find himself under the scrutiny of others.

“Indeed, as the sole formal disciple of Sister Sophia de Chazel, it’s fitting to call him the Hero’s Egg,” Esiocles nodded with a serious expression, seemingly convinced. Conra, feeling awkward, tried to shift away again, but there stood Hildegard, who began ruffling his hair with an aunt-like affection.

“Aww, our Conra is so precious! The fact that the daughter of the Spirit God appeared in a dream means she sees Conra as the Hero’s Egg, right? That goddess has quite the eye!” Hildegard exclaimed.

“Ahhh, stop it!” Conra protested, but Hildegard only ruffled his hair more vigorously. Finally, using the movement techniques he learned from Sophia, Conra managed to escape, his hair a mess. As he tried to fix it, Sophia ran her hand over the surface of the stone box and spoke.

“It seems this stone box can only be opened by Conra,” she said.

Sophia had sensed a peculiar energy within the stone box, an energy that had seeped into the box’s frame, solidifying and locking it tightly to prevent any external force from opening it. She noticed that this energy only reacted when Conra was near.

‘Forcing it open wouldn’t be too difficult, but I’m not that kind of person,’ Sophia thought.

This was a destined encounter for Conra, and interfering would be unbecoming of a master. Sophia trusted her intuition, which had grown increasingly accurate since she created the Original Spirit God. She was confident that whatever was inside the box wouldn’t harm Conra.

Of course, even if her intuition was wrong and something dangerous emerged, Sophia was prepared to step in and protect her disciple. She had the skill and capability to do so, and that was a fact, not arrogance.

“Conra, enough playing around. Come here and try opening the box,” Sophia called.

“Ah, yes!” Conra quickly approached and placed his hand on the box. At that moment, Sophia’s eyes flashed blue as she sensed the spiritual energy within the box reacting to Conra’s touch.

‘So that’s how it is,’ Sophia thought.

As Sophia grasped the general movement and reaction of the energy, Conra had already opened the box and pulled out its contents. Esiocles and Hildegard, who had been watching with curiosity, moved closer to inspect what Conra held.

“This is… a spearhead,” Esiocles said.

In Conra’s hand was an ancient spearhead made of what appeared to be bronze. Though the blade had lost its original golden hue and now bore the characteristic blue-green patina of aged bronze, the intricate silver inlay patterns on the blade still exuded a mysterious and beautiful aura.

“This is the spearhead used by Ogmios before he ascended to godhood!” Hildegard, a rare mythology enthusiast among the clergy, exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she stared at the bronze spearhead in Conra’s hand. Unable to resist her intense gaze, Conra lifted the spearhead for her to see, and she beamed with joy.

“So, what do you plan to do with this artifact now?” Esiocles asked.

“Well, first, we should have it appraised at a workshop to see if it’s still usable. Then we can decide. Even if it’s an artifact from ancient spirits and heroes, it’s still a Bronze Age relic. We can’t just use it in battle without knowing its condition. It might break,” Conra replied.

“Hmm. I don’t think that’s necessary,” Sophia interjected.

“Huh?”

{Conra, try channeling your main strength into the spearhead,} the Spirit Esras-Hermes suddenly spoke.

“Main strength?” Conra asked.

{Yes. It seems this spearhead contains a battle spirit,} Esras-Hermes explained.

Conra was startled. “A battle spirit in this thing? Well, if it’s a spear used by a hero god when he was human, it makes sense for a battle spirit to reside within it.”

{Exactly. So, try channeling your strength into it. Or, you could use your ‘Qi’ or ‘Kundalini’ energy,} Esras-Hermes suggested.

Sophia, who had been watching with her arms crossed, encouraged Conra. “Do as the Spirit suggests. You’ve never lost out by following his advice before.”

“If Master says so,” Conra agreed.

Conra focused his mind on the spearhead, channeling his strength as a Druid, Alchemist, and Rune Master, along with the Qi and Kundalini energy he had learned from Sophia. Moments later, a flash of light and a slight shockwave erupted, and when it subsided, the spearhead in Conra’s hand had transformed.

The spearhead had regained its original golden hue, now perfectly suited to Conra. The artifact, now exuding a sharp energy and an ethereal aura, left Conra in awe. Sophia joked, “Looks like you’ll have to attach it to a spear shaft and use it now.”

“Yeah, I guess so, Master,” Conra replied, still dazed.

Suddenly, a strange voice interrupted their conversation.

{Ugh…}

The voice came from the spearhead in Conra’s hand. The battle spirit within seemed to be waking up, groaning as it regained its senses. Esras-Hermes was the first to speak.

{Are you awake, little battle spirit?}

{Ugh, who are you? Who dares call me ‘little’…} the battle spirit grumbled, still half-asleep. But upon realizing it was speaking to a Spirit, it quickly woke up.

{Gah, why is a spellcaster here!?}

{What did you say? A spellcaster?}

{Don’t tell me my new contractor is also contracted with a spellcaster! What a disaster…} the battle spirit lamented.

Conra, sensing something was off, asked, “Do you dislike spellcasters?”

If so, that would be a problem. While Conra was skilled in spear and sword techniques, half of his abilities were rooted in spellcasting.

{Of course not! Many great warriors in the past were also skilled in spells.}

“Then why did you react like that earlier?”

{It’s not the spells that are the problem, it’s the Spirits. They always corrupt potential great warriors and turn them into basement-dwelling spellcasters…}

{Enough with the slander! If anything, it’s you battle spirits who drag those with the potential for deep spellcasting into the endless mire of combat!} Esras-Hermes retorted.

As the two spirits bickered, Sophia interjected. “Conra, ask the battle spirit for its name.”

“Ah, yes, Master,” Conra replied.

Conra turned to the battle spirit, who was still engaged in a heated argument with Esras-Hermes. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but I have a question.”

{Hmm, what is it?}

“Your name.”

{Ah, I almost forgot to introduce myself. The exchange of names is the foundation of a warrior’s contract, something you spellcasters could never understand.}

{One thing you seem to misunderstand is that all forms of contracts originated from us Spirits,} Esras-Hermes shot back.

Conra, feeling like he was caught between two fighting dogs, managed to ask the battle spirit for its name.

{My name is Rugus-Artaeus! The field commander of the warriors who marked the end of the Bronze Age, and the battle spirit who later accompanied the hero Ogmios! Contractor, what is your name?}

“My name is…”

Just as Conra was about to introduce himself, Sophia interrupted.

“Wait, before we finalize the contract, there’s one thing we need to clarify.”

{Interrupting a sacred warrior’s contract…!}

“Be quiet for a moment.”

Sophia’s eyes flashed with intensity, and a radiant aura flared behind her. A tremendous pressure focused on the spearhead, causing the battle spirit to groan under the weight.

{What… what kind of monster…}

“Sacred contract or not, I am this boy’s master. Watching you speak so freely, I realized there’s something we need to make clear.”

{And what is that?}

“Hmm, your tone is still quite sharp. Are you trying to assert dominance? Regardless, you need to clearly define the hierarchy in this contract. If you try to subtly reverse the roles, I’ll melt you down in a furnace.”

Sophia’s piercing gaze bore into the battle spirit, who clenched its metaphorical teeth and endured. But as Sophia increased the pressure, the artifact began to creak and groan, reaching its limits.

Finally, Rugus-Artaeus surrendered.

{Alright! I, Rugus-Artaeus, will serve the contractor as my master! I will never defy the hierarchy or manipulate the contractor!}

The spearhead trembled as the battle spirit spoke, and Conra couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for it. However, he knew his master was acting in his best interest and kept his feelings to himself.

“Now, state your name,” Sophia commanded.

“Yes! My name is Conra, Conra mac Setanta! Son of Setanta and Kaliastra, squire and disciple of Paladin Knight Sophia de Chazel!”

{Good! I, Rugus-Artaeus, am now the battle spirit contracted to Conra mac Setanta! From this moment on, I will assist my contractor in all matters of combat and impart the ancient secrets of the hero gods!}

As the contract was finalized, a surge of energy swirled around Conra. Sophia, satisfied, clicked her tongue and muttered, “Tsk, I asked for your name, not your dark history…”

Hildegard and Esiocles, who had been watching the scene, couldn’t help but smile wryly. Of all the profound moments, Sophia’s reaction was so… typical of her.

+++++

Three days later, the ship departed Marseille once more. Conra’s long-awaited exploration of the Marseille streets never happened, as he spent his time adapting to the newly transformed spearhead and learning to work with the battle spirit.

The ship bound for Hiberia sailed smoothly, and it seemed they would reach their destination without incident—until an uninvited guest appeared.

“Captain! An unidentified ship is approaching from the port aft!” the lookout shouted from the crow’s nest.

The deck of the Hiberia-bound passenger ship ‘St. Maria’ was instantly filled with tension. The lookout quickly identified the pursuing ship’s flag.

“Red background, skull, crossed swords, and a winged hourglass!”

The crew’s faces hardened as the lookout’s report continued. Soon, the lookout’s voice, filled with dread, echoed through the ship via the pipe telephone.

“It’s the Joli Rouge flag——!!!”

The pirate flag, with its laughing skull, crossed swords, and winged hourglass, fluttered proudly as three pirate ships closed in on the St. Maria, hunting their prey.

 

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