The clash between the modifier and the world's rules seemed strange, but on reflection, it made sense. The garbled message clearly referred to detection magic. Detection, by definition, revealed a target's six-dimensional information. Combined with Wind Spirit Moon Shadow's functions, seeing meant modifying.
The room around Ronan remained still, yet the air felt charged—like the lingering residue of a thunderclap, subtle but undeniable. The weight of logic settled over him, pressing gently at the back of his mind as understanding clicked into place like the final piece of a puzzle. A soft shimmer of mana light flickered across the leather-bound book in his hands, casting a pale blue sheen over the text that no longer moved.
Modifying himself was fine; he was an outsider, beyond the goddess's reach. But others? This was akin to violating the creator god's children right under their nose; it was a wonder there wasn't a bigger conflict.
It was like walking through a temple armed with weapons—provocative, dangerous, yet somehow unnoticed. Maybe not unnoticed. Maybe tolerated. Maybe… permitted. That thought alone made Ronan's eyes narrow with curiosity.
"Wind Spirit Moon Shadow probably won. The goddess didn't appear, and the prompt was relatively complete. Domestic products are the best," Ronan said, nodding slightly. His voice was even, almost bored, but his eyes gleamed faintly with satisfaction as he closed the book. He stopped, turning his head toward Martin, who stood nearby with a guarded, formal posture. "Martin, do you know where detection magic is sold?" His tone was direct now, focused. His cheat code was at stake; he was prepared to pay any price.
Martin was startled. The question had caught him off guard, and it showed in the slight widening of his eyes and the tiny intake of breath before he composed himself. "Detection magic? Mr. Ronan, do you mean the kind that detects demonic creatures?" he asked, brows drawn slightly. Then, as if realizing something, he paused. "My apologies; I was careless."
His instincts as a noble kicked in—always correct, always courteous. He was about to ask why Ronan lacked such a common spell, something most mages acquired early in their careers, but then remembered Ronan's current persona. He hadn't been to the ruins before, so lacking this spell was normal. A simple oversight, on the surface.
"If I recall correctly, Old Dick's shop sells detection magic. Are you going there?"
"Of course," Ronan replied readily. He didn't know Old Dick, hadn't even heard the name until this moment, but the familiar tone in Martin's voice made the destination feel reliable, almost fated. This was it. A more perfect cheat code, a better life. He was ready.
…
They reached Old Dick's shop on the city's edge half an hour later. The walk had been uneventful, the path flanked by buildings that slowly thinned out into sparse, aged stone walls and crooked signposts. The city's bustle faded into the distance, replaced by the quiet rustling of trees and the occasional call of distant birds.
Frieren stayed; she didn't know detection magic either. Her expression was unreadable, but there was a quiet determination in her gaze. If Ronan obtained and learned it, she might benefit. The high-temperature magic, enhanced vision, and appraisal magic had all been acquired this way. She felt no shame; she already owed him enough; a little more didn't matter; she could repay him later.
Creak—
The door gave way with a low groan as Ronan pushed it open. A musty gust of air escaped, carrying with it the scent of aged parchment, burnt herbs, and faint alchemical residue. The small, enclosed space beyond was dimly lit by flickering lamps. The floorboards groaned underfoot with every step, like old bones creaking in protest.
Frieren was startled by the interior. Glowing skeletons, fur-clad monsters, and indescribable creatures lined the walls in eerie silence. Their hollow eyes seemed to follow movement, casting unsettling shadows across the room. It was dark and terrifying—like stepping into the lair of something ancient and dangerous.
Frieren held her breath, heart fluttering in her chest, a surge of fear clenching her stomach. But then she remembered she wasn't alone. Her fingers reached for Ronan's sleeve, clinging gently to the fabric, grounding herself with the warmth of his presence.
Ronan felt the pull and looked back. His expression didn't change, but something in his eyes softened. Seeing her fear, he shook his head silently. —Just a child; they're just toy models. He understood; everyone felt that way as a child.
He reassured Frieren with a steady look, and once she calmed down, they continued.
Martin, hearing the commotion, felt a surge of envy twist in his chest, but he remained composed, voice smooth. "This is Old Dick's magic shop. The ruins are about twenty miles away; adventurers stock up here before entering. He's shy, so he made the entrance long to avoid adventurers."
"Mr. Ronan, are you sure you only need detection magic? Old Dick has excellent potions…"
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> Kumo desu Ga: Reincarnated as a Neighbour of a Certain Spider
> I am Mihawk In One Punch Man
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