Reborn as an Adventurer: I Gain a Skill From Every Monster I Eat

Chapter 43: Chapter 43 — Eldrin’s Theory

Professor Eldrin arrived at the guild hall two days after Vessa Thorne’s specialists, summoned by an urgent guild courier the moment Lyra realized the timeline of his ruin discovery overlapped so precisely with the wildlife disturbances that had preceded Millbrook.

Arlen found himself included in the briefing almost by accident — Eldrin had specifically requested his presence, given that he’d been present for the original carving’s discovery, and Vessa Thorne, pragmatic above all else, saw no reason to exclude a firsthand witness simply because of his modest rank.

They gathered in one of the guild hall’s upper meeting rooms, Eldrin’s satchel of notes and rubbings spread across the table alongside Vessa’s own considerably more sparse collection of reports, Lyra and Garrick both present, along with the specialist mage Arlen had heard mentioned only in passing rumor until now — a lean, quiet man named Corrin who studied the assembled documents with an intensity that suggested he understood their significance better than anyone else in the room.

”I’ve spent the past week cross-referencing my carving against every archive I have access to,” Eldrin began, without preamble, spreading a careful rubbing of the symbol across the table’s center. ”I found nothing in the standard regional records. But my colleague at the capital archive recognized a partial match, in a much older text — one dealing with pre-kingdom containment sites.”

”Containment,” Vessa repeated, her composed expression sharpening.

”That’s the term the older text uses, yes.” Eldrin adjusted his spectacles, clearly uncomfortable with what he was about to say. ”Several centuries ago, before the current kingdom’s founding, certain ancient practitioners identified sites where something they called ’deep echoes’ had settled into the land — remnants, as best I can interpret the old language, of creatures or forces too dangerous to destroy outright, and too significant to simply leave unmarked. They built markers instead. Wards, of a kind, meant to keep whatever rested beneath contained, or at minimum, to warn future generations of what lay there.”

”That matches one of these markers,” Arlen said quietly. The pieces settled into place with an unpleasant, sinking clarity.

”It does. Not perfectly — the specific symbol doesn’t match any single documented ward precisely, which suggests either a regional variant unique to the Ashen Frontier, or something the older archive simply never catalogued fully. But the general shape, the placement, the age of the surrounding stonework — all of it fits the pattern closely enough that I can’t dismiss the connection as coincidence any longer.”

Vessa leaned forward, studying the rubbing with the same focused intensity she’d shown during Arlen’s own account days earlier. ”You’re suggesting the creature at Millbrook was contained beneath or near your ruin site, and something disturbed that containment.”

”I’m suggesting it’s a strong possibility,” Eldrin said carefully. ”I want to be clear I don’t have proof. But the timeline concerns me. The farmer discovered the exposed stonework roughly three months ago, clearing new farmland. Wildlife disturbances began appearing in guild reports not long after, according to what I’ve heard secondhand these past days. And now this.”

Corrin, the specialist mage, spoke for the first time, his voice quiet but carrying an authority that made the rest of the room fall silent to hear him. ”I ran a mana density survey of the region two days ago, working outward from Millbrook. There’s a residual signature I don’t recognize — old, deeply embedded, the kind of trace that takes centuries to accumulate. It’s strongest near the forest’s deeper reaches, but it thins noticeably the closer you get to a specific point northeast of where the attack occurred.”

”The ruin site,” Arlen said.

”I haven’t confirmed the exact location yet,” Corrin said. ”But the general direction matches.”

The room fell quiet for a long moment, the weight of the implication settling over everyone present. Garrick, who had remained silent through most of the briefing, finally spoke, his gravelly voice carrying its usual calm despite the clear gravity of what he was about to say.

”If this is accurate,” he said slowly, ”then we’re not dealing with a monster that simply wandered into the region. We’re dealing with something that was deliberately sealed away, centuries ago, by people who understood exactly how dangerous it was — and something recent disturbed that seal.”

”The farmer’s plow,” Eldrin said quietly. ”Or erosion, or simple time finally wearing through whatever ward held it. I don’t know which. I don’t think it matters, at this point, which specific cause finally broke the containment. What matters is understanding what we’re actually facing, and whether there’s any way to properly contain it again, rather than simply drive it off and hope it doesn’t return.”

Vessa’s expression had gone carefully, deliberately blank, the same guarded stillness Arlen remembered from her reaction to his description of the creature’s voice. ”I need to survey the ruin site directly. Today, if possible. If this connects to what I suspect, the containment method itself might tell us something crucial about how to properly deal with the creature.”

”What do you suspect?” Lyra asked.

Vessa was quiet for a moment, clearly weighing how much to share. ”There are old records, from before even the capital archive’s founding, describing creatures sealed away specifically because they couldn’t be killed through conventional means — not because they were too strong to fight, necessarily, but because destroying them outright carried consequences worse than leaving them contained.” She met the room’s collective, uneasy silence with the same composed steadiness she brought to everything. ”I hope I’m wrong. But the pattern here concerns me deeply.”

Eldrin’s expression had gone pale, the full weight of his own discovery finally settling into him with visible discomfort. ”I never meant for my survey to uncover something like this.”

”You didn’t create the problem, Professor,” Garrick said, not unkindly. ”You found evidence of one that already existed, hidden beneath the ground long before any of us were born. That’s not a burden you need to carry as guilt.”

The briefing continued for another hour, plans forming for Vessa’s team to survey the ruin site directly alongside Eldrin’s guidance, Corrin’s mana-tracking abilities providing the clearest path toward understanding exactly what they were dealing with. Arlen listened throughout, absorbing every detail with the same careful attention he gave everything now, though the growing shape of the mystery settled into him with a weight considerably heavier than simple curiosity.

Something ancient, sealed away on purpose, because destroying it was worse than containing it, he wrote that evening, once the briefing had finally concluded and he’d returned to his own quarters. And it woke up, or broke free, because of a farmer’s plow turning over a field that hadn’t been disturbed in centuries.

I keep thinking about the word it spoke. If it really was a word, and not just some sound my frightened mind tried to make sense of. I wonder now if it was trying to say something specific — a name, maybe, or a warning, or something else entirely I have no way of guessing at.

Vessa’s team will survey the ruin properly tomorrow. I don’t know what they’ll find. I’m not sure anyone in that room today fully expected to end up here, staring down a mystery this old and this dangerous, simply because a professor wanted to document some interesting stonework in a farmer’s field.

The world keeps turning out to be larger, and stranger, and more dangerous, than anyone expects. I used to find that thought thrilling more than anything else. Tonight, it mostly just feels heavy.

He closed the journal, the city outside settling into another uneasy night, and found himself hoping, with a sincerity that surprised him, that Vessa Thorne’s grim suspicions somehow turned out to be wrong.