How To Live As A Writer In A Fantasy World

Magic is not omnipotent, in case you were wondering.

When objectively evaluating its success rate, it falls on the lower end, and the process itself is murky.

Magic allows for corrections based on visible errors, such as computational mistakes or mana shortages.

Sorcery, however, has none of that.

Let’s reflect once more on why humanity chose magic over sorcery.

Sorcery is an incredibly niche skill, even within non-mainstream practices.

Thankfully, humans, having relied on sorcery in the past, don’t outright reject it even if they no longer favor it.

Some families still hold weak remnants of sorcery-related traditions, such as conducting ancestral rituals.

Similarly, religious orders perform offerings to their gods, which, upon closer inspection, are also a form of sorcery, showing how deeply ingrained it is.

“Calling upon an ancestor’s spirit through sorcery is better performed by their descendants than hiring a sorcerer. Here’s how…”

Before preparing the sorcery, Leona explained the process to me.

However, she warned that she wasn’t formally trained in sorcery, so not to expect much.

Neither I nor my father had high expectations.

In fact, this attempt was more of a demonstration than anything else.

If it failed, we’d consider it a valuable experience.

If it succeeded, we’d be amazed.

We hadn’t prepared any proper offerings ahead of time…

“Shall we use this as the offering? It’s a sprout from the World Tree.”

“Will that really work?”

“Or should we just stir-fry it? It might taste good.”

“Enough.”

…Instead, we had something prepared on the spot: a sprout that had fallen from Ariel’s hair.

I wasn’t sure if the sprout would actually be effective, but according to Leona, since it came from Ariel, it should hold sufficient value.

The World Tree in Alvenheim was said to hold immense value even in a single leaf, so this should be comparable.

Moreover, we had multiple sprouts, which should increase the odds.

But the most important thing remained.

“Now, we just need something related to the target…”

Specifically, the deceased’s body or an item connected to them.

If the body is available, the chances of summoning their spirit increase significantly.

If not, even a personal belonging will suffice.

We were trying to summon my grandfather.

My father, scratching his chin at Leona’s words, spoke with an uncertain tone.

“Personal belongings… Well, your grandmother’s keepsakes are around, but there’s little left tied to him.”

“Isn’t there anything at all?”

“There might be something stashed in the mansion’s storage. I’d have to search for it, though.”

He seemed to harbor no affection for his father, referring to him dismissively as “that man.”

It was clear their relationship was far from good.

This made me curious.

What kind of person was my grandfather?

From what I’d heard, he was a warrior through and through, but I didn’t know much beyond that.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one curious.

Mari cautiously asked my father:

“What kind of person was your father-in-law?”

“Simply put, he was respectable as a warrior but far from ideal as a father.

It felt more like he was training a disciple than raising a son.”

“I think I get the picture.”

It seemed like a typical father figure of this era.

Especially in a world where individual strength was paramount, such traits likely stood out more.

But unlike him, my father was kind and an exemplary head of the household.

While he could be strict with me, Dave, and Nicole during lessons, he was an ideal father in everyday life.

Looking at my father now, it seemed likely that my grandfather, too, had cared for him in his own way, even if he didn’t know how to express it.

“What about your mother?”

“She passed away when I was about five.

Our house was suddenly attacked by assailants.”

“…What?”

Despite recounting it calmly, it was a tragic past.

Mari, taken aback by the revelation, seemed deeply troubled, wondering if she had touched on a sore subject.

Seeing her reaction, my father chuckled and gently reassured her with a warm and comforting tone.

“There’s no need to feel sorry.

It’s all in the distant past now.

Looking back, perhaps my father’s harsh training was because of that incident.”

“…Even so… I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize.

Anyway, is there no way to summon him?

Even just to confirm his survival?”

Sensing the mood dampen, my father skillfully shifted the topic, showing his characteristic thoughtfulness.

Leona, startled by his question, scratched her head, clearly uncertain.

“Well… Without a specific medium, there’s no telling who might show up.

We might accidentally summon someone who’s resting peacefully.”

“What happens then?

Would the spirit possess someone?”

“No, they’d just yell at us a lot.

Imagine being forced awake while sleeping at home—it’s annoying, right?

Same thing.”

The blunt comparison made me nod instinctively.

Still, it seemed a shame to give up after coming this far.

“Ordinary spirits usually pass on peacefully.

Unless they’re malevolent, it’s rare for them to linger in this world.”

“That’s true.”

“Then wouldn’t it be worth trying?

If they’re still here, there must be a reason.

Don’t you think?”

“Hmm… You’ve got a point.

But we’d need a suitable medium…”

Leona trailed off, staring at me intently.

It was an obvious look of observation.

I tilted my head, unsure of her intentions, but waited quietly, sensing she had an idea.

Suddenly, Leona clapped her hands together and, with a slightly excited voice, said:

“Hair!

Your hair should work.”

“My hair?”

“Yeah.

Red hair is extremely rare in this world, and your bloodline is clear.

I thought about using blood, but hair might be more reliable.”

In terms of DNA, hair or blood wouldn’t matter, but this was a fantasy world, where logic often defied my expectations.

Her reasoning sounded oddly convincing.

Still, there was one thing to clarify:

Was my grandfather’s hair red like mine and my father’s?

“Father, did grandfather also have red hair?”

“He looked just like Dave.”

“Oh… I see.”

That single statement painted a clear image of my grandfather in my mind.

With confirmation about his hair color, I decided to use my own hair.

Naturally, it was my hair that was chosen.

My father, having retained his military habits, kept his hair short.

Furthermore, thanks to Mora’s “blessing,” my hair grew down to my waist and would regrow overnight if cut.

I’d long since given up on it.

“How much should I cut?”

“Just cut as much as you like.

It’ll grow back tomorrow anyway.”

Snip—

Adelia, who had been observing, neatly cut my hair with a small knife.

The weight lifted immediately, leaving my head feeling much lighter.

It had been a long time since I felt the back of my neck so cool.

Though it would regrow tomorrow, the sensation was refreshing.

“It’s been a while since you looked like this.”

“What do you think looks better on me?”

“I like Isaac either way, Mwah.”

A wise answer.

Mari responded by planting a light kiss on my cheek.

Meanwhile, Leona and the others began preparing for the ritual.

With the dormitory being spacious and even having private rooms for research, there was no problem finding a place to set up.

Besides, this was more of a trial run, so there wasn’t much to prepare.

“Just remember, there’s a chance it might fail.

I’m not a professional sorcerer.”

“I know.

This is just for practice.”

“Alright, let’s begin.”

The ritual was surprisingly simple.

All that was needed was the hair and Ariel’s sprout as offerings, along with incense to lure the spirit.

The process itself resembled ancestral rites I often performed in my previous life—kneeling, bowing, and occasionally nodding.

The main differences were the lack of elaborate food offerings and the rapid burning of the incense, which required frequent replacements.

Leona, playing a supporting role, murmured incantations to ensure the ritual was carried out properly.

Although she wasn’t a professional sorceress, the fact that she easily pulled Ariel’s sprout suggested her “faith” was reliable.

She could be trusted.

About ten minutes passed.

Whoosh—

Despite being in an enclosed space, a sudden gust of wind blew through.

The wind scattered the incense smoke violently before dispersing it entirely.

It was undoubtedly the “omen” Leona mentioned before the ritual began.

The swift scattering of the incense smoke signified a response from the soul. At the same time…

…It implied that the target had died. Upon confirming this, my father wore a bitter expression.

“I didn’t think he’d be the type to die somewhere else…”

“It might not be Grandfather.”

“Still, you get a feeling. If he comes here, we’ll have to ask where the body is first.”

Though their relationship wasn’t good, it seemed there was still a hint of familial affection.

With that, my father began the memorial ritual more solemnly than before.

I, too, became somber, bowing with genuine sincerity.

Showing respect to the deceased didn’t differ whether in this life or another.

Perhaps our faith resonated. Or maybe Ariel’s sprout amplified that faith.

Snap!

The incense stick, burning steadily, suddenly broke in half with a loud sound.

The noise startled not only me but also my father and Leona, causing us all to freeze.

This phenomenon didn’t align with the “omens” Leona had explained earlier.

When I turned to her, she seemed equally bewildered.

As I stood up, concerned something bad might happen, a strange phenomenon occurred with the offerings we had laid out.

Float—

My hair began to rise into the air.

Along with it, the sprout taken from Ariel.

Caught off guard by the inexplicable scene, I stared blankly as a strand of hair began to slide out of the bundle and fell—not onto the ground, but into the air. ᚱά₦ọＢ̧

And not just once—it kept happening, one strand after another.

“…Did it come?”

“I—I’m not sure. Leona?”

“Usually, I can communicate with a soul, but… I don’t know what this is either.”

If even Leona was uncertain, it was clearly no ordinary occurrence.

My father, concerned, instructed us to retreat.

The rest of us cautiously stepped back, just in case.

Nearing the door, I suddenly thought of Ariel and glanced at her.

Ariel was staring blankly at the floating hair and sprout.

As we all knew, she could see souls. If anyone could identify the visitor, it would be her.

Thud—

Before I could ask, the hair and sprout fell to the ground. The faint breeze ceased entirely.

Though the scene had been eerily quiet, it felt as if a storm had passed.

“…Is it over?”

“I—I think so?”

“What could have caused this trouble…”

My father stepped forward, glanced at the floor, and stopped dead in his tracks.

Though I couldn’t see his face, the abrupt silence made it clear something was amiss.

Warily, I approached him and looked down.

What I saw left me speechless.

Because there, on the ground, was a sentence formed from my hair:

“I’ll be coming soon.”

Everyone froze, unable to say a word, except for one person—Ariel.

“Dad. Dad. Who was that person earlier?”

“…Did you see someone?”

“Yeah. They patted my head and left.”

“……”

Well… at least it’s clear they’re not a bad person, seeing as Ariel didn’t try to eat them.

★★★

There is currently an underground temple being investigated by the Minerva Empire.

It is a place secretly constructed by demon worshippers to summon demons from another dimension.

The investigation of the temple is being conducted solely by the Minerva Empire.

Other nations have not sent support for various reasons, partly because the temple had already lost its significance.

The place was so neglected that moss had begun to grow in many areas.

Above all, the Minerva Empire restricted access to the temple in an effort to conceal the truth that the summoning had partially succeeded.

If this fact were to spread, the empire would face serious repercussions.

In short, the personnel investigating the temple currently consist of archaeologists and experts dispatched by the Minerva Empire.

“Hey, look at this skull.”

“Hmm? Oh, wow. The head is completely shattered. It must’ve been smashed thoroughly. It looks impossible to restore.”

“Judging by the marks, it seems like it was struck by that large axe over there…”

After discovering the temple and beginning their investigation, numerous intriguing facts started to emerge.

Evidence had been found long ago that the summoning had been attempted and was only partially successful.

Now, they were methodically examining the surrounding area.

Questions lingered—who disrupted the summoning, how did they learn of the temple’s existence, and more.

For the archaeologists, the temple was a treasure trove of mysteries to unravel, and they were so engrossed in their work that they had arranged for lodging near the site.

“If they managed to find the temple, they must have known about the existence of demon worshippers. So why wasn’t it revealed to the world?”

“You know how meticulous demon worshippers are. Hiding their history would’ve been easy. Only heroes could’ve uncovered their presence, don’t you think?”

“Not being able to oppose the demon worshippers… that’s truly unsettling. And to make things worse, this so-called hero remains unknown.”

“That’s the fate of a defeated hero, isn’t it?”

Click-clack—

Amid their enthusiastic research, a strange sound suddenly echoed in their ears.

One of the archaeologists paused and looked up, puzzled.

“Huh? Did anyone else hear that sound just now?”

“What sound?”

“A clicking sound.”

“Probably just some stones falling.”

“Is that so?”

The archaeologist replied casually and carefully dusted off the dirt on the skull using a brush.

Among the scattered bones, the skeleton they were examining was relatively intact.

This particular skeleton not only had its bones mostly connected, but its outfit—though old and worn—was remarkably well-preserved.

The archaeologists speculated that this individual might have been the one who stopped the summoning.

It made sense, as the other remains were either smashed to pieces or completely dismembered.

“Judging by the height, he was probably over 190 cm. Looking at the bones, it seems he was a man.”

“That’s enormous. Was that axe his weapon?”

“Probably. But if only we knew who he was…”

Click-clack—

This time, the sound was unmistakable.

The archaeologists froze simultaneously, their investigation coming to an abrupt halt.

It didn’t sound like stones falling; it was more like the sound of bones clashing together…

Flash!

At that moment, the eye sockets of the skeleton they were examining began to glow.

A brilliant golden light radiated from them, as if revealing the color of its eyes in life.

Of course, for the archaeologists, this was nothing short of a terrifying phenomenon.

“Ahhh!”

“S-Skeleton! It’s a skeleton! Someone’s using necromancy!!”

Screaming, the archaeologists quickly backed away.

Other researchers investigating nearby areas turned their attention to the commotion.

Meanwhile, the skeleton slowly began to rise as if it were alive.

It grabbed the massive double-edged axe lying beside it with one hand.

Then, as if awakening from a long slumber, it brushed its face and stared blankly ahead.

[Damn.]

Surprisingly, the skeleton spoke.

The first words it uttered upon awakening were a curse, which was slightly disconcerting but undeniable.

Few undead resurrected through necromancy retain the ability to speak, and those that do are considered exceptional, as speaking indicates intelligence.

Regardless, the skeleton let out a deep sigh and muttered softly,

[Having a capable grandson can be a real pain.]

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