The Final Task of the Forsaken Saint: A Command to Marry the Barbarian Count - Chapter 28

The ancient ruin towered above me, reaching heights that rivaled Neige Castle itself.

Despite the massive trees sprouting from its walls and windows, the structure remained intact, emanating an overwhelming sense of magic. Water cascaded from gaps in the ruins like a waterfall, feeding the pristine spring at its base. Countless spirits flitted about, weaving through the air with playful energy. The entire area felt perpetually warm, as if spring had claimed it for its own, and a fragrant breeze caressed my face.

The newly risen sun cast its light over the scene, making the surface of the water sparkle and outlining the ruins with a golden glow.

It was breathtakingly beautiful.

“So beautiful…” I whispered, unable to tear my eyes away. Yet the thick, potent magic saturating the air made me realize something—this place was overwhelming. Any untrained human would feel sick being here.

Was Dirk okay? I quickly turned to check on him, only to find him staring at the scene with wide eyes, astonishment clear on his face.

“This… this is a magic relic site,” he said, his voice full of awe.

“I think you’re right,” I nodded.

Magic relics from the ancient magical empire that had mysteriously fallen centuries ago were known for certain features, one being their ability to attract spirits. I vaguely remembered learning about why in royal lessons, but the details escaped me.

“I think no one noticed this site before because it was hidden by a powerful concealment barrier,” I added.

The barrier was likely what I’d felt when the spirits led me through that strange, veil-like sensation. Even relics imbued with ancient magic couldn’t compare to the simple, intuitive spells wielded by spirits. If they wanted to invite someone, no barrier could stop them.

“Could this be why the spirits have remained in the Deathshade Forest all this time?” Dirk’s voice carried a note of realization.

Wow, he’s sharp, I thought.

“I did feel a kind of veil when we entered the forest. It’s possible it was an enchantment meant to obscure the site,” I replied.

Dirk nodded, still taking in the sight with an expression that was more than just surprise—it was as if he was witnessing a revelation.

I realized then how significant this discovery must be. Finding such a colossal relic within his territory was no small matter. While I marveled at the sheer scale of the site, the spirits were eagerly nudging us forward, encouraging us to explore.

As we moved closer, it became apparent just how vast the relic was. Beneath the field of flowers, patches of sturdy, ancient stone peeked through, evidence of the structure’s enduring presence. Over centuries, soil had accumulated, allowing trees, plants, and even fruit-bearing bushes to flourish on top of it.

I wondered if any of the fruit was edible.

The inside of the ruin was surprisingly intact. Though the exterior was overgrown with vegetation, the ceiling remained sound, and the interior was breathtakingly pristine.

Everywhere I looked, the walls and floor were covered in translucent, multicolored crystals. They shimmered in shades of red, orange, yellow, blue, green, purple, and pink, glowing as if competing with the early morning sunlight streaming through narrow gaps.

Spirits zipped between the crystals, their movements creating a kaleidoscope of colors. The effect was mesmerizing—otherworldly, even.

These crystals, I realized, were…

“Spirit stones?” Dirk’s voice broke the silence, confirming my suspicion.

As if on cue, the spirits began bringing over handfuls of the luminous stones and other trinkets, chattering excitedly.

“Our favorites!”

“A gift for you!”

“Really? Thank you so much!” I said, holding out my hands as the spirits eagerly piled stones, flowers, and polished pebbles into my arms.

Spirits are naturally drawn to magical items, but they also have an aesthetic sense all their own. Smooth, shiny stones and even shed basilisk scales were considered valuable among them. And here, the spirit stones were undoubtedly the most powerful and beautiful objects.

Before I could figure out what to do with my armful of treasures, one spirit darted over to Dirk, carrying a particularly large stone.

“For you!”

Dirk blinked in surprise. “You’re giving this to me?”

The spirit’s glow intensified as it bobbed up and down.

“Happy you came back!”

Dirk’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he seemed breathless. Maybe this spirit remembered seeing him during his past visits to the estate? Whatever the case, it appeared genuinely pleased. Dirk looked over at me, as if seeking guidance.

“Dirk, hold out your hand. If you don’t accept, they’ll sulk,” I advised with a grin.

“That would be problematic,” he replied, managing a small, serious smile as he extended his palm.

The spirit placed an impressively large, deep purple crystal into his hand, matching the hue of his eyes. Even without a proper assessment, I could tell it was exceptionally pure and clear.

“That could make a powerful wizard’s staff,” I commented.
Dirk’s eyes widened further as he processed the significance.

The spirit stone was on par with the one embedded in my own staff, a treasure of immense worth. A crystal of this quality could amplify magical power immensely, making it a coveted prize among mages.

After taking a moment to admire the stone’s glow, Dirk shifted his gaze back to the spirit with genuine appreciation.

“Thank you. I’ll treasure this,” he said softly.

Though his expression was still serious, it was clear he was genuinely pleased. He looked almost childlike, like a boy who’d just received a cherished keepsake. The spirits seemed satisfied, swirling around him with playful glee. Dirk looked slightly embarrassed but content, which made me smile.

Meanwhile, the other spirits were busy stacking objects into my hands, turning it into a challenge of how much they could pile on.

Their visit complete, the spirits eventually scattered, disappearing into the ruins and surrounding forest. I stuffed their gifts into my bag and glanced over at Dirk. He stood there, cradling the purple stone with both hands, looking as if his entire world had just shifted.

His expression was hard to describe—like a man seeing hope for the first time after a long struggle. It reminded me of the soldiers’ awe when I first demonstrated magic at Neige Castle. A mix of wonder and uncontainable joy.

Before I could ask what he was thinking, Dirk spoke, his voice reverent.

“On the way here, I noticed mirabelles growing. Not just that, but peaches, apples, even citrus fruits—all growing together. Plants and trees that shouldn’t bear fruit at this time of year.”

“Wait, there were mirabelles?” I exclaimed, recalling how Saria had mentioned they were in season. I almost turned back to grab one, but Dirk’s point sank in.

“Are you saying there’s an ancient device maintaining this environment?” I asked.

“Yes. This ruin must have been an agricultural facility. Perhaps a research station or a farm. The ley lines running through this area would have powered the device, drawing magic from the surroundings to enrich the soil and control the weather. It’s incredible that it’s still functioning after all these centuries,” Dirk explained, tracing the ancient runes etched into the machinery with his fingers.

I tried to recall my lessons but couldn’t match his knowledge. Dirk examined the relics with an almost scholarly focus.

“This device also acts as a spirit gathering shrine, drawing them in to enhance magical functions,” he added.

“Wait, so the veil around the Deathshade Forest was part of a containment spell for the spirits?” I ventured.

“It wouldn’t completely trap them, but it might dull their will to leave. The entire forest has been under the influence of this device. That explains the strange flora and unpredictable weather—the magic has degraded and started running wild over the years.”

Dirk gazed up at the relic and the glowing spirit stones, his expression a mix of awe and bittersweet realization.

“So, the spirits never abandoned Rostok after all,” he murmured.
At that moment, I understood what had moved him so deeply.
Rostok had been seen as a place bereft of spirits and magic for generations, leading its people to believe they’d been forsaken. They built a culture around self-reliance, shunning magic as if atoning for some unknown sin.

Yet, I remembered the sparkle in the soldiers’ eyes when they first saw magic, and Dirk’s hope-filled voice as he once said:
“If the spirits truly abandoned this land, not even a saint could call them back. But if they respond, there is hope.”
“Dirk, you wanted to bring the spirits back to Rostok, didn’t you?” I asked gently.

He looked down at me, eyes wide, the answer clear in his gaze.