Chapter 3
The blood activated the magic circle, agitating the spirit.
Whoooosh!
The flame grew larger.
It began to take the shape of a lizard—
A low-tier fire spirit: a Salamander.
It looked up at me with a disgruntled expression, flicking its tongue.
“I’m glad to see you too, but today I’m aiming to meet your elder.”
Gurrururuk!
This time, I let a much larger amount of blood flow— Between the second and third circles.
This was a magic circle refined over generations by the kingdom’s most renowned spirit summoners.
And I had elevated its structure even further.
RUMMMMMBLE!
A pillar of fire erupted.
It looked as if it might burn through the low ceiling.
But spirit fire couldn’t exert any physical force unless a contract had been made with the summoner.
What I was seeing was merely a reflection of the spirit realm through the circle.
I couldn’t even feel the heat.
‘It’s an illusion created by the magic circle.’
Knowledge was power.
Without a moment’s hesitation, I stepped into the blazing red pillar.
I wanted to form a contract with a higher-tier spirit.
But given my limited resources (not even a single spirit stone), a mid-tier spirit was the best I could hope for.
‘I wonder how Ruby’s doing these days.’
My youngest sister Ruby had been born with enough talent to summon a low-tier water spirit.
At just thirteen, she had successfully contracted with a high-tier one.
All thanks to the support of the Breio Family
Even after I was imprisoned underground, Ruby would occasionally come to visit me.
At four years old, she had been the only family member who didn’t show me hostility.
‘If she used this magic circle, she might have been able to contract with a top-tier spirit… but that's no longer my concern.’
Inside the pillar of flame was an entirely different world.
It felt as if I had crossed to a different dimension.
And there, I came face-to-face with a mid-tier fire spirit.
“I am Louis de Hebron. I wish to form a contract with you.”
—You are not yet qualified…
The response wasn’t in words, but a resonance within my mind.
It felt like the spirit had entered me and become a part of me.
‘Yes, this is how it’s described—the inside of the contract circle.’
Until now, I’d only learned about this space through books and lectures.
Now that I was standing in it myself, my entire body trembled with awe.
The spirit couldn’t finish its sentence.
Spirits were said to be emotionless, but this one was clearly flustered.
“Am I truly unqualified?”
—How… How did you even enter this space?
“I’ll ask again. Am I unqualified?”
—At this moment… yes.
A decent answer.
In my previous life, I never even had the chance to face a spirit.
Clearly, this one had seen potential in me.
That’s why it seemed to hesitate.
It was probably deciding whether to form a contract now based on my current talent or wait until my potential had fully bloomed.
I decided to end its indecision for good.
“Then I’ll make you an offer. Will you form a contract with me—based on my potential?”
—Return once your vessel is complete.
The spirit’s tone changed.
It now spoke with respect.
Inside this contract space, a spirit and a prospective summoner could form a pre-contract.
Few spirit summoners truly understood this space on a theoretical level.
That was because most people awakened their power through innate talent, not study.
‘I’m not just sharing emotions with you. In here, your heat and your binds, I feel them as if they’re my own.’
I pulled a dagger from my waist.
But instead of aiming it at the flame, I turned the blade toward my own throat.
“Live with me… or vanish with me. Your choice.”
A spark flared before my eyes.
It flickered like it might go out at any moment. The absurdity of my threat rippled through the spirit’s consciousness.
‘Yes, we’re connected.’
Even I hadn’t been fully certain until now.
I had never experienced in practice the things I had learned from books.
“I’m more than you think. I can help you grow stronger. I know the secrets of House Breio. If you doubt me, test the truth for yourself.”
WHOOSH!
The spirit’s flame engulfed me.
And with it, we entered a deeper state of resonance.
In that connection, the spirit confirmed my words were genuine.
—...Very well. I shall follow you. The day your soul’s flame dies… my fire shall die with it.
I’d once heard that when a spirit’s contract ends, it returns to the spirit realm.
The spirits didn’t call it annihilation—they called it return.
Because their existence didn’t vanish completely; part of them remained, passed down to the next generation.
“Your name is Inferno.”
Inferno.
The name of an avatar who once shook the world.
Spirits were born into fixed ranks.
From the lowest of the low to the spirit kings, each lived out their lives expressing the talents assigned to them by the spirit realm.
But the avatar Inferno shattered that natural order.
Born a mid-tier spirit, he rose to high-tier—and eventually challenged a spirit king before returning to the realm.
—I, Inferno, shall live through the flame of Louis de Hebron.
That was all I knew of the spirit contract process.
What followed was unknown to outsiders— The real contract began.
Whooooosh!
Flames filled the entire space and rushed into me all at once.
From my eyes, nose, mouth, ears— I felt heat surge through every opening.
Then the agony began, as though all my internal organs were burning away.
‘None of this was in the records…! Damn those spirit summoner bastards!’
The spirit contract was a closely guarded secret.
I’d heard rumors that failure to be chosen by a spirit meant death, though that wasn’t common.
FWOOSH!
Suddenly, my vision flooded with light.
The crimson flames faded, and the pain melted away like a dream from the night before.
I was back in my room. My shabby old room.
The memory was vivid, but no trace remained on my body.
‘Was it a dream?’
“Inferno.”
Flick!
A small flame sparked to life before me.
It soon formed into a humanoid shape.
Inferno’s appearance was rough and muscular.
He was less than ten centimeters tall, with a sturdy upper body—but no lower half to support it.
He flickered like he might go out at any moment.
‘So it wasn’t a dream. I really do have a spirit… and talent.’
“Why the grumpy face?”
—You cannot handle me. If I unleash all my power, you’ll surely die.
A fair point.
One reason spirit arts were categorized under magic was because of mana.
Though mages used mana, spirit summoners used spirit power, and holy mages used divine power, in truth, it all stemmed from the same source.
The difference lay in how each used it most efficiently.
‘Aura’s far less efficient than mana.’
And I had no talent for mana.
In desperation, I had summoned Inferno using aura as fuel— And his expression looked like he’d just eaten something foul.
He seemed annoyed that I hadn’t even given him a full serving.
“I haven’t adjusted to this body either. I’ll feed you proper spirit power soon.”
A true spirit summoner must awaken their spirit power.
It was similar to mana, but could only be consumed by spirits.
I didn’t have any.
Or rather, I had it—but my dantian (energy core) absorbed it all.
A side effect of mastering aura cultivation first.
Perhaps because of that, Inferno was now blazing with aura as fuel.
An inefficient energy source.
“Now that I’ve confirmed the spirit magic, it’s time to test my mana aptitude.”
—You can use magic too?
Just because we’d resonated in the contract space didn’t mean Inferno knew my past.
He only understood my sincerity, and that had built trust between us.
But I had plans to raise him.
Just like the avatar Inferno of old, who once challenged a spirit king.
‘The idea that spirits can’t grow… that’s total nonsense.’
If I had an abundance of magic in my dantian, I could raise Inferno into a high-tier spirit.
“To be honest, I’m not sure. That’s why I’m about to find out.”
There were two main ways to assess magical talent.
One: using a mana stone to test mana affinity.
Two: being evaluated by a mage.
But the Hebron Family had no mages.
‘Not even a single mana stone to our name.’
Mana stones were commonplace in ducal houses.
Louis de Hebron, in all his 19 years, had never even seen one.
“Maybe I lost too much blood… I’m feeling a bit dizzy.”
My current body was in terrible condition.
I had stored up only a bit of aura—physically, I was a wreck.
That was the price of wasting years memorizing royal lineages and noble hierarchies in a bid to become the next lord.
“Inferno.”
—Why are you calling me?
“You believed in me. I’ll make sure you never regret that decision. That, I can promise.”
—Hmph.
Twin jets of flame burst from Inferno’s nostrils.
* * *
“It's a mess.”
Both this body and the territory it governed. Both were in shambles.
Though it was a poor barony, the people had long since lost their spirit.
No matter how hard they worked, they couldn’t escape their harsh reality.
The Hebron Barony had a population of barely 400. They were practically prisoners within its borders.
Most lived and died without ever seeing another region.
Only once a year did the road to the outside open—when taxes were sent to the royal capital.
During that time, the barony’s full forces were mobilized, and mercenaries were hired as escorts.
‘It’s not just because Hebron’s lords have been incompetent for generations. That alone doesn’t explain this isolation. Who is trying to keep Hebron sealed off—and why? Are they waiting for it to collapse so they can swallow it whole? Or is it… something else?’
I had no proof to support my suspicions.
When that’s the case, it’s better to gather information than jump to conclusions.
“First, I need to break through that.”
To reach the nearest territory—Barony Nurha—I’d have to pass through the eastern forest.
To the west lay cliffs. To the south, a wasteland.
That wasteland marked the southern border between Hebron, Nurha, and Delgain baronies.
It was a barren land, practically a desert.
The elders used to scare children with tales of wild dogs that roamed it, they said that it carried a terrible plague.
According to those tales, they were the remnants of Antaria— Beasts from a kingdom destroyed by civil war and plague.
Past that wasteland lay the ruins of the Antarian Kingdom, which had fallen a century ago.
Monsters overran the place now.
To the north stretched a vast forest, which merged with the eastern one.
For convenience, both were simply referred to as the eastern forest.
“It’s nonsense to say it was just mismanaged. Even if Hebron is barren, we’ve paid our taxes to the crown without fail. Yet the kingdom hasn't sent a single knight or noble to help subjugate the monsters. Hebron has clearly fallen out of royal favor. If that’s not it, then..…”
When people thought of Hebron, only one phrase came to mind: ‘Grass-eating Hebron.’
It was something my father used to mutter all the time— An old, bitter saying, implying even weeds were scarce here.
Why had he, of all people, fixated on Hebron? Why cling to this pitiful barony?
Though the forest technically belonged to Hebron, it was completely unmanaged.
Not only beasts, but monsters ran rampant.
They bred without check, and every so often, they’d come pouring into the barony.
Like today.
DAENG! DAENG! DENG! DENG!
The bells rang out noisily across the territory.
The guards and townsfolk rushed to their posts as if well-practiced.
‘They rely on the walls for defense…’
At present, that was the best they could do.
The problem was, the walls only encircled the lord’s manor and a few homes. The fields and paddies beyond were left completely exposed.
‘No wonder our harvests are so meager.’
Farmers working the fields sprinted toward the gates in a panic.
Behind them were wild beasts— Ash-grey wolves from the eastern forest.
