Author: Akashari	Original Source: Syosetu
Translator: Mui	English Source: Re:Library

Project GB is an official initiative by Re:Library.

“Apologies—you had to witness something unsightly…”
“No, well… As a follower of the God of Wisdom, I just couldn’t contain my excitement…”
“It’s fine, as long as you’ve calmed down.”

It took about ten minutes for the top two of Rigel to settle down after Yuuri Rin’s name came up.

I seriously considered just walking out right then, but having them show up at my inn later would be even more trouble. Better to indulge them a bit here and avoid unnecessary hassle.

“S-So then… um… that Lady Laika might be the disciple of Yuuri Rin…”
“I’m not sure if I count as one. We traveled together for a time, that’s all. And it’s not like I have any way to prove it.”
“It sounds absurd, yes—but in a way, it does explain your strength, which is otherwise far beyond what your age suggests. But… just how long ago are we talking?”
“Roughly a thousand years.”
“A thousand…”

Apparently that number was far beyond what he’d expected—Runira’s eyes went wide, and he was left speechless.

I was glad they accepted it so easily—it made things move faster. But having someone at the top of a district be this gullible was honestly kind of worrying.

“By the way, in the era I lived, Babel didn’t exist. That’s why I’ve been wondering where it came from. Granting a universal language to all humanity? That’s beyond even magic.”
“Then Babel must have been created after the Cataclysmic War, sometime in the past thousand years… If that’s true, this is a historical—oh, ohhh…!!”
“Hey, don’t drift off into your own world. We’re not gonna get anywhere like that.”
“Um, Lady Laika? I’d like to ask something as well, if I may.”

Pushing the dazed Runira aside with his elbow, the Guildmaster timidly raised his hand.

It’s not like we needed to raise hands to ask questions, but Momo had set a strange precedent, and now this whole thing had turned weird.

“If you say you’ve been alive for a thousand years… then you don’t know when Babel came into existence?”
“Unfortunately, I don’t have a thousand years’ worth of historical knowledge. I spent most of that time imprisoned.”
“What a tragic looooss!?”

Runira snapped out of his trip and shot to his feet with such force he nearly fainted again.

He was clearly devastated that he couldn’t mine a millennium of history from me—such a devout follower of the God of Wisdom.

“Enough, Runira! Be quiet for a bit! So, um… this imprisonment, what exactly do you mean by that…?”
“Ah… it’s a long story. Don’t worry about it too much. Just know I was shut in total darkness where I couldn’t even see my own hand, with nothing but time for a thousand years.”

Even now, all I had to do was close my eyes and I could remember it vividly. The conditions when I was first imprisoned were absolutely abysmal.

A damp, dimly lit cell. Every breath filled my lungs with the stench of mold. The rough stone walls and floor scraped at my skin just by leaning on them.

Three days in there would’ve been enough to drive anyone mad—yet I spent a thousand years like that. Until I got used to it, the sheer boredom was torment.

“The first thing I had to do was create a ‘light’ source. Spend enough years in darkness, and your eyes become useless. Besides, whether or not there’s light makes a huge difference to your mental state.”
“So Master was already thinking about what to do once you escaped, huh?”
“Of course. Because…”
“Because?”
“…No, never mind. Anyway, to make light, I kept forcing out every bit of magic power I had, like this.”

I conjured a small fireball on the tip of my finger. By now, it was as easy as breathing.

It didn’t even flicker—perfectly spherical, it cast an even glow throughout the room.

“Master, Master! I can do that too!”
“Your magecraft scores a failing grade. Don’t go lighting fires indoors when you don’t even have a handle on the basics.”
“…Hey, Mintark.”
“It’s impossible. No matter how many times I chant, I can’t produce a sphere that stable.”

The Guildmaster conjured a fireball without an incantation, just like I did. But his flame wavered now and then, as if blown by a breeze.

A sign of instability in the magic flow—though still more than stable enough. No wizard in their right mind would complain about the quality of his spell.

“J-Just maintaining this takes considerable concentration… And you did this—for a thousand years?”
“I had nothing but time. Once I had fire, I moved on to water, then wind, and finally earth. I focused entirely on magecraft, working to adjust my environment inside that cell.”

In the beginning, even lighting a fire had been a struggle. My hands were bound, and on top of that, I was shackled with chains designed to kill wizards.

Any spell I chanted was immediately scattered by the chains’ effects—at best producing a few weak sparks. I kept at it all day, like stacking stones, until my voice gave out and my magic power ran dry.

It took me three years just to sustain a flame the size of a candle. Two more before my eyes adjusted to it. The memories still leave a bitter taste.

“It’s nothing special. Anyone would be shaped by that kind of environment—multiply it by a thousand years, that’s all.”
“Master, that’s… something no normal person could survive.”
“I survived.”
“That’s because you’re not normal.”
“Is that so…?”

A thousand years was admittedly a long time—but once it passed, it felt like nothing.

If anything, having nothing else to do made it easier to focus on honing my magecraft.

“Uh… this is getting off track. Lady Laika, may I ask you something?”
“You don’t have to ask for permission every time. Ask away.”
“Forgive me—it’s something that needs a bit of preamble. I’d like to ask about the cause of death of your teacher, Yuuri Rin.”
“————……”

Yuuri Rin. The monster who could brawl with dragons barehanded and still come out alive—the cause of her death.

I could never forget. There’s no way I ever could.

Because her death… is exactly why I spent a thousand years sealed away.

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