Chapter 120 - Damn Reincarnation

The Hearing

“Basically, I’m something like an auxiliary device for your magic, Eugene.”

Mer sat in her chair, her bright eyes sparkling.

The formula that constituted Mer now resided in Eugene rather than Witch Craft. As a result, she could no longer use the various spells that had been available to her when she was linked to Witch Craft.

“So... hmm... you’ve always preferred spatial magic, haven’t you? Calculating the coordinates for those spells is just as complicated as their formulas. However brilliant you might be, calculating spatial coordinates perfectly when mana is fluctuating can’t be easy.”

Blink played a major role in magical combat. It was no exaggeration to say that how quickly and appropriately a mage used Blink determined who held the advantage.

“I do those calculations for you. Of course, I have other functions too. Right now, you can record and cast spells up to the Fifth Circle using your Ring Flame Formula, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“Normally, you can’t use spells above your own level, but you can already cast spells one circle above yours, can’t you? With my assistance, you should be able to cast spells two circles above yours—in other words, Seventh Circle magic. Of course, incantationless casting is out of the question. You’ll need to recite the incantation and unfold the formula, but it’ll be much easier than forcing your way through it unaided,” Mer said proudly.

“Especially when casting different spells simultaneously and blending them together... Hmm, you’d be better off trying it yourself than listening to me explain.”

Muttering this, Mer climbed down from her chair. She looked around, then approached Eugene with quick little steps.

“Open it for me.”

“Do you really have to go inside to do it?”

“Eugene, as you can see, I’m not a combat familiar. I can be repaired if I’m damaged, but I wasn’t designed to engage in magical combat myself or fight hand to hand.”

Pouting, Mer lifted the Cloak of Darkness.

“I’m strictly a familiar for assisting with magic. If that bothers you, make me a combat body yourself.”

“... Hmm...”

Eugene stared at Mer for a moment. A combat body... She could handle the magic herself, so was she asking him to build a new body with physical capabilities suited to combat?

... He pictured Gargis’s and Ivata’s hulking, muscular bodies. Those physiques certainly were suited to combat. Mer’s face on one of those bulging bodies...

“Urgh...”

He had imagined something revolting. Eugene clapped a hand over his mouth and backed away a few steps. Mer, who had been lifting and lowering his cloak, narrowed her eyes.

“What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?”

“I imagined something horrible.”

“That’s awfully random. Anyway, just open your cloak.”

Eugene lifted the Cloak of Darkness as Mer requested and let her inside. Living creatures normally couldn’t enter this cloak, but that restriction didn’t apply to Mer, a familiar.

“What spell are you going to use?”

“Blazing Heat Bullet.”

The Hall of Blazing Heat on Akron’s eighth floor housed the spells of the most powerful fire mage in Aroth’s history. Blazing Heat Bullet, the Seventh Circle spell Eugene was about to cast, was one of them.

He had the formula in his mind. He also knew the theory of where to begin and how to channel his mana to unfold it. He simply had never tried casting it. Seventh Circle spells were as powerful as natural disasters, and correspondingly difficult to cast.

Mana surged. Mer, peeking out of the cloak with only her head exposed, closed her eyes. The formula Eugene envisioned was shared with her.

Eugene possessed an innate talent for calculation and control over his mana. Though the spell was two circles above his level, his mana flowed without obstruction. His already rapid calculations were completed in an instant with Mer’s assistance. His moving lips continued the incantation.

FWOOSH!

A tiny ember appeared before Eugene. At first glance, it seemed unimpressive. In size alone, it was smaller than a Fireball. Yet the moment the ember appeared, the temperature in the chamber began climbing to staggering heights.

“... Whew!”

Mer exhaled. Her eyes sparkled as she watched the ember floating in front of Eugene.

“... You did it.”

A considerable amount of mana had drained from his core. Eugene focused his consciousness on the ember. It drifted slowly forward, then swelled explosively as it moved.

Blazing Heat Bullet was an offensive spell second only to Hellfire in power among fireball-type spells. The ember had barely traveled any distance before it grew large enough to fill half the research chamber, blazing with flames.

“Next, let’s try blending it with magic of an opposing element. Eugene, you know spells from the Hall of Freezing too, don’t you?”

“Hold on.”

Eugene turned his head. He sensed someone beyond the research chamber’s door.

Trempel Wizardor, commander of the court mage corps, stood beyond the closed door. He wasn’t startled when it opened on its own.

The flames filling the research chamber, however, left him no choice but to be startled. With its door closed, it was impossible to observe the interior of this underground research chamber or sense the mana within. Thus, until the door opened, Trempel had had no idea what Eugene was doing inside.

“... Blazing Heat Bullet?” Trempel blurted, his mouth hanging open.

“... From the Hall of Blazing Heat? Seventh Circle? Magic...?”

He couldn’t believe it. His eyes trembled with confusion. Trempel and the five tower masters had reached the Eighth Circle. In all of magical history, no mage other than Senya the Wise had reached the Ninth Circle. In any era, an Eighth Circle mage was recognized as an archmage.

The Seventh and Eighth Circles were only one circle apart, but the gulf between them was immense. Yet what did that matter? As far as Trempel knew, Eugene was only twenty. No mage in history had reached the Seventh Circle at twenty. Not even among Aroth’s royalty, said to possess the strongest magical bloodline on the continent, had anyone reached the Seventh Circle at that age.

“... Sir Eugene... how on earth... no, when did you reach the Seventh Circle...?” Trempel asked, trembling.

An archmage himself, he had been called a genius countless times since childhood. Yet even he had only reached the Fourth Circle at twenty...

“I haven’t reached the Seventh Circle. I’m still at the Fifth Circle.”

The heat of Blazing Heat Bullet distorted the scenery. Eugene waved his hand, dismantling the formula that constituted the spell.

“... The Fifth Circle...? Then how did you cast a spell two circles above—”

Trempel broke off, his eyes widening. As the formula unraveled, the mana released from it returned to Eugene instead of dissipating.

All of this lay far beyond Trempel’s understanding. Eugene had cast a higher-circle spell—one two circles above his own, no less. Then he had dispelled it while reclaiming the mana without waste... Was that even possible?

It was impossible for Trempel. As an Eighth Circle mage, he could never cast Ninth Circle magic, no matter what he tried. When dispelling a spell partway through, he could recover some of the mana he had invested. But recovering most of it, as Eugene had done, was impossible... Especially from a higher-circle spell. Trempel clutched his dizzy head and backed away a few steps.

‘... If a Fifth Circle mage can cast Seventh Circle magic... can you still call him a Fifth Circle mage? Shouldn’t a mage’s circle be determined by the spells he can use?’

“Hello.”

Trempel’s confusion deepened. At the sight of Mer poking her face out of Eugene’s cloak, his legs gave way, and he sank to the floor.

“... Ha... haha...”

“Master Trempel, I understand your surprise, but Eugene was able to cast Seventh Circle magic because I, Lady Senya’s familiar, assisted him.”

Mer lifted her chin smugly.

“He couldn’t do it without my help. Impressive, isn’t it?”

“Ha... hahahaha...”

“Are you here about the hearing?” Eugene asked, patting the head of Mer, who was humming cheerfully.

Only then did Trempel collect himself and get to his feet.

“... Hmm... yes. Sir Eugene, your hearing will be held today.”

“Today? That’s sooner than I expected. I thought it would take another few days.”

“... Given the nature of the matter.”

He had intended to maintain a stern, intimidating demeanor—to cow Eugene before escorting him to the hearing. Instead, he had let Eugene see him land ungracefully on his backside.

“Where will the hearing be held? At the royal palace, Abram, I assume?”

“... That was the original plan, but the Red Tower Master objected fiercely.”

Trempel frowned as he walked down the research wing’s corridor.

“As you know, Sir Eugene, only the royal family and the court mage corps can use magic within Abram. That restriction applies even to tower masters.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“... The Red Tower Master demanded to know why a hearing was being held when you had committed no crime. Especially in Abram, where magic is prohibited. ... Ahem! Really, he’s such a suspicious man... Surely he doesn’t think the royal family and the court mage corps would take advantage of your inability to use magic to persecute you?”

“I don’t suspect you of going that far.”

A voice interrupted. The rippling space opened, and Lovellian stepped out.

“I simply felt it was unjust. Trempel, I believe you to be an upright man, and I believe the royal family to be fair.”

“... Ugh...”

“My disciple—Eugene—has committed no crime. Why, then, must he be summoned to a hearing, and why must it be held in Abram, where mages are rendered powerless?”

“Enough, Lovellian. You objected so insistently that we agreed to hold the hearing in a detached palace outside the lake instead of Abram, didn’t we?”

“It was changed to a detached palace because I objected to holding it in a courtroom.”

“Honestly... why bring that up? Sir Eugene, don’t misunderstand. I’m not... in favor of this hearing. Nor was I happy about holding it in Abram or in a courthouse.”

“I understand.”

“The chancellor was so insistent... Well... as you know, Sir Eugene, Akasha is a treasure with many meanings for Aroth.”

“It is Lady Senya’s treasure, not Aroth’s,” Lovellian snapped, his eyes wide.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Why are you taking it out on me? Did I say that? Did I? Damn it, it’s galling enough that I, commander of the court mage corps, have been reduced to an errand boy...!”

“Don’t be so angry. It only shows how deeply Aroth’s royal family trusts you.”

“... Ahem... that’s true.”

Trempel quickly reined in his anger and stroked his beard.

* * *

The five tower masters, the head of the Mages’ Guild, and the commander of the court mage corps attended the hearing. It was no exaggeration to call these seven mages symbols of Aroth.

“... Do you know what I saw?” Trempel asked, grimacing as he sat down.

“Sir Eugene cast the Seventh Circle spell Blazing Heat Bullet.”

“... Is that true?”

Etgard Giron, head of the Mages’ Guild, stared at Trempel with wide eyes.

“Impossible... Isn’t Eugene Lionheart twenty years old? How could he have reached the Seventh Circle...?”

“... He says he’s actually at the Fifth Circle...”

“How can a Fifth Circle mage cast Seventh Circle magic?”

“How should I know?” Trempel snapped with a scowl.

Etgard turned his wavering gaze toward Lovellian, seated across from him. Lovellian offered no explanation. He merely looked at Eugene with an expression of pride.

“You must feel awfully uncomfortable sitting here,” the White Tower Master, Melkith El-Hayah, sneered at Etgard.

“You’re still at the Seventh Circle, aren’t you? And you must be three times that boy’s age...”

“... Only a thin barrier remains before me.”

“Didn’t you say that five years ago? You’ve struggled for five years without getting past it, yet every time someone asks, you call it a thin barrier.”

“One small insight will be enough for me to overcome it. White Tower Master, please don’t insult me so. Are you comparing me to that child?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t go so far as to call it an insult... Hmm, but yes, I suppose I am comparing you.”

Melkith cackled and clapped, while Etgard’s hair stood on end. All manner of vicious curses hovered on his tongue.

... But he couldn’t unleash them on Melkith. That infuriating, frivolous woman was an Eighth Circle archmage and a grand spirit summoner—the only person in history to have contracted with two Spirit Kings.

“... The Seventh Circle. Is that thanks to Akasha?”

Of the seven mages, the Green Tower Master, Generic Osman, wore the most menacing expression. He glared at the seated Eugene as he spoke.

“Without Akasha’s help, reaching the Seventh Circle at that age would be impossible.”

“Don’t make arbitrary assumptions,” Lovellian said.

“Eugene could use higher-circle magic even before becoming Akasha’s master.”

“Hmph... You’re far too protective of your disciple, Lovellian Sophis. Or is it not because he’s your disciple, but because he’s a son of Lionheart?”

Generic turned his sharp gaze on Lovellian.

“I suppose you have reason to coddle him. After seeing that imbecile of an eldest son first, wouldn’t anyone else look precious? But you’re going too far, Red Tower Master. Akasha is Aroth’s treasure. To have it taken by Lionheart, by Kiel...”

“You have no right to insult Eward.”

Red currents swirled in Lovellian’s eyes.

“Besides, you aren’t angry because Akasha is being taken by Eugene, are you? You’re angry because the Akasha you so desperately coveted recognized someone other than you as its master.”

“... Your devotion to your disciple is excessive. You know perfectly well that I cannot simply smile and accept those words, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. How long have we known each other? Well over forty years. I know how obsessed you are with being a ‘disciple of Senya the Wise.’ I also know you belittle me and the Red Tower, insisting that only the Green Tower is Lady Senya’s legitimate successor.”

Lovellian snorted and looked away.

“But, Generic, Lady Senya served as Green Tower Master three hundred years ago. Isn’t it ridiculous to cling to that and insist that only the Green Tower can call itself her successor? And no matter how loudly or stubbornly you argue, Akasha recognized Eugene, not you.”

“You bastard...!”

Unable to contain his rage, Generic shot to his feet. As if she had been waiting for this, Melkith clapped and cheered.

“Fight! Fight!”

The Blue Tower Master, Hiridus Uzlen, shot Melkith a sidelong look and clicked his tongue.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing? Aren’t you ashamed to behave like this in front of a young man?”

“I have no intention of fighting.” Lovellian shrugged and sneered.

“The Green Tower Master simply forgot where he was and let his emotions get the better of him.”

GRIND!

An immense amount of mana converged on the Green Tower Master. Still sneering, Lovellian stirred his own mana to oppose him.

RUMBLE...!

The tremendous mana the two summoned shook the entire detached palace.

‘He really is tougher than he looks.’

Eugene watched from his seat. His teacher, Lovellian, had never once been angry with him. When Eugene first met him at thirteen, Lovellian had been cheerful and kind to the children, and he was a benevolent teacher.

But he wasn’t a weak man. He was exceedingly strict with the Red Tower’s mages. If they made even a small mistake during a magical experiment, he would appear before they knew it and deliver a scathing reprimand. Even now, he let none of Generic’s remarks slide, challenging him at every turn.

‘... Why does that bastard keep staring at me? It’s uncomfortable.’

The Black Tower Master, Balzac Ludbeth, was also seated. Lovellian and Generic were clashing with mana nearby, but Balzac paid his surroundings no attention whatsoever. He simply stared at Eugene.

“His Highness Prince Honein enters!”

The royal guards waiting outside the detached palace announced his arrival. The mana that had been swelling as though to devour its opposition subsided instantly, and every mage, Eugene included, rose.

“To be honest, I didn’t want to come inside.”

Honein Abram entered the detached palace’s hall with an awkward smile.

“The mana was fluctuating so violently that I could feel it from quite a distance. I wonder whether I should have arrived a little later.”

“It was merely a minor disagreement,” Lovellian said with a bow.

“Will His Majesty not be joining us?”

“Hmm. That is correct. His Majesty has entrusted this matter entirely to the chancellor and me.”

Honein glanced back at the old man who had followed him inside.

“To be frank, His Majesty is not pleased about this matter. However, the royal family cannot allow personal feelings to compromise its fair handling. Besides, the presence of a nation’s king would, in itself, put Sir Eugene in an awkward position.”

Was he claiming they had been considerate? Eugene thought without raising his bowed head.

‘... He just doesn’t want to take responsibility.’

He couldn’t very well say that to Honein.

“Hmm... Please, everyone, raise your heads and take your seats.”

Honein sat in the seat prepared at the center.

“First, I wish to clarify the nature of this hearing. This is not a dispute between Aroth and Kiel, nor is it an attempt to use a nation’s power to persecute a family.”

Looking at Eugene, Honein continued.

“Of course, such persecution would be unacceptable, and there is no reason for it. As the Red Tower Master has argued, Sir Eugene has committed no crime.”

“... Your Highness,” the chancellor seated beside him murmured.

“Akasha has been kept in Akron for two hundred years. Akron is Aroth’s royal library, and everything in Akron belongs to Aroth’s royal family.”

“Indeed,” Honein agreed with a nod.

“But Sir Eugene did not steal Akasha. Though Akasha belongs to Aroth, its master is Lady Senya the Wise. And Sir Eugene has stated that Lady Senya personally transferred Akasha to him.”

“We convened this hearing to question him about that.”

The chancellor turned to Eugene.

“A full two hundred years have passed since Lady Senya went into seclusion. Yet now we are told that Lady Senya is ‘alive’ and has transferred ownership of Akasha to someone else. It is difficult to take that claim on faith.”

“You cannot believe him?” Lovellian demanded, narrowing his eyes.

“Chancellor Conrel, are you suggesting my disciple is lying?”

“I am merely discussing possibilities,” Conrel replied, stroking his beard.

“Two hundred years is a long time. Despite all our searching, we could find no trace of Lady Senya, yet now she has transferred ownership of Akasha? Even if that is true, Akasha has belonged to Akron—to Aroth—for two hundred years. Surely, then, it is Aroth’s royal family that has the right to claim ownership of Akasha now?”

“When they can’t even use it?” Melkith laughed loudly.

“Well, yes. It’s true that Akasha has belonged to Aroth for two hundred years. But for Aroth to claim it is Akasha’s master... isn’t that a bit ridiculous?”

“White Tower Master.”

“What? Am I wrong? For two hundred years, no one has been able to become Akasha’s master. Neither the previous kings nor any of the mages who visited Akron ever earned Akasha’s recognition.”

“I am not a mage,” Conrel replied with a snort.

“I know Akasha is a great mage’s staff, but that means little to me. What does mean something to me is that it is a ‘treasure’ of the royal family. Everything in Akron belongs to the royal family. No one may have been able to become Akasha’s master, but it remains the royal family’s property. For a recluse who withdrew two hundred years ago to assert ownership now... I find that quite shameless.”

Lovellian sprang to his feet at those words. He glared at Conrel with wide eyes, but Conrel did not shrink from that piercing gaze.

“Don’t glare at me so. As one who serves the royal family and is responsible for Aroth’s governance, I am acting in Aroth’s—”

“May I say something too?”

Eugene finally opened his mouth.

“... Speak.”

Conrel nodded. Eugene cleared his throat softly and rose.

“Lady Senya is alive.”

Eugene stared straight at Conrel as he continued.

“And Lady Senya told me that she intends to return to Aroth someday and turn this entire country upside down.”

“... What?”

“I swear on my mana that everything I just said is true. Lady Senya is alive, and she is furious with Aroth.”

Honein’s mouth fell open.

“I don’t know how she will express that anger, but... hmm... as far as I know, the royal palace, Abram, was a gift from Lady Senya... She created the lake surrounding the palace, and the palace’s magic-sealing array is hers as well, isn’t it? So perhaps she’ll sink the entire palace beneath the water...”

“...”

“Or... she might rain down a meteor shower. That’s none of my concern, though...”

With that, Eugene sat back down.

“... Master Lovellian.”

“... Yes... hmm?”

“I’ll put in a good word with Lady Senya so that you and the Red Tower don’t suffer any harm.”

How was he supposed to respond to that? Lovellian opened and closed his mouth several times before nodding hesitantly.

“... Thank you.”