Chapter 90 - Private Lessons

'The Void Mage Tower.'

Of the four Mage Towers first established by the first human Mage, the Void Mage Tower had been responsible for space.

That story was nothing more than legend now. To think something he had searched for so tirelessly in the Intelligence Bureau would turn up like this.

'Coming to the North was the right choice.'

"... How do you know Inferno magic? The Inferno Mage Tower should have burned to nothing long ago."

Fox Mask's reaction was decidedly sharp. Inferno magic seemed to carry more weight than he had expected.

"It was a gift."

"Nonsense!"

"Yet here you are, from the Void Mage Tower that supposedly fell into the void."

Fox Mask ground their teeth at Galahad's observation. Their behavior really was foxlike. A fox whose next move was impossible to predict.

"Tell me where you got it."

Fox Mask's voice dropped. Galahad still sensed nothing from them, and the mask hid their gaze.

If he had to guess...

'They're looking at my head.'

Were they planning to take his head off? Galahad subtly shifted the Hellfire.

"Didn't I tell you? It was a gift."

The corners of his mouth rose.

["Junk? How rude. Do you have any idea how hard it was to obtain?"]

It had been a peculiar relic inscribed on stone rather than a spellbook, so badly damaged that he had initially mistaken it for junk.

Even Galahad had needed to spend a great many years working on it. Without the Intelligence Bureau, deciphering it would have been difficult.

He had ultimately learned Hellfire, but it was not a particularly useful spell. As an agent, what he had needed was fast, quiet magic.

Hellfire's power was undeniable, but it moved far too slowly and demanded considerable concentration. It was not a very good spell for an agent, and so he had rarely favored it during his service.

Galahad eased the Hellfire forward. Fox Mask recoiled in a fit of panic, retreating from it. He took careful note of that excessive reaction.

"You're afraid of Hellfire."

"You lunatic—you're shoving Hellfire at me! Not being afraid would be strange!"

Fox Mask's cry was shrill. In a sense, that was only reasonable, but this was someone who manipulated space at will. Such slow-moving Hellfire could hardly pose a threat.

Yet Fox Mask had deliberately walked backward. It was a stark contrast to the way they had been merrily moving through space until moments ago.

Which meant...

"Ah, so that's it."

Hellfire burned everything.

Quite literally everything.

For instance...

"It burns space, too. That's why you're reluctant to use spatial magic near it."

Fox Mask stopped short at his words. There was no other reaction.

"Ridiculous."

The area around Hellfire rippled violently, making the flame shudder. The rippling grew a little stronger.

"Hm?"

Fox Mask tilted their head.

The rippling grew more violent. Hellfire shook hard and shrank a little.

Fox Mask clicked their tongue openly.

"This isn't Hellfire, is it?"

Their head tilted the other way.

"Hellfire isn't this small. It wouldn't be pushed back this easily, either. Besides, a Mage couldn't possibly use Hellfire in the first place, could they?"

Their words came faster and faster. Then their head abruptly stopped moving.

"It's Hellfire I created."

"So you revised it yourself?"

"Restored it, rather than revised it."

"Ha!" Fox Mask gave a sharp laugh.

"Absurd. I don't know how you got hold of a trace of Inferno, but you recreated Hellfire from it? You must be the first human Mage."

"Sorry, but I'm young."

Fox Mask's laughter cut off. Silence lingered for a moment. A chill ran down the back of Galahad's neck.

"What exactly are you?"

Unlike before, there was not a trace of amusement in their voice.

"Didn't I tell you? Galahad, commander of the Special Operations Unit. Your memory is rather poor."

This time, Fox Mask did not laugh.

"Well? Have I piqued your interest?"

"Interest? Ha!"

Fox Mask snorted loudly.

"Do you think Inferno magic is merely a matter of interest? You have no idea what you've done."

"So," Galahad interrupted, "will you trade?"

Silence lingered. Galahad studied the black portions of the fox mask and calculated.

Hellfire burned space, too. If things went wrong, he would first thrust it wherever that gaze was likely to fall.

Then Fox Mask snorted.

"How entertaining. However..."

Violent ripples rose around Hellfire. The flame trembled precariously, its heat fading.

Mana twisted, drawing a groan from Galahad.

Then—

"You're a little insolent."

Hellfire vanished.

The distortion in his mana swept over him. He swayed violently and caught the golden rod to steady himself.

'Impressive. Spatial magic... '

Coughing dryly again and again, he studied Fox Mask.

"Well, that's all right. Someone who's accomplished that much can afford a little insolence. But this isn't something you can learn just because someone teaches you. Even if you did learn it..."

Their voice was full of mockery.

"A human like you couldn't withstand it."

The fox mask slowly rotated. It did not stop at ninety degrees, but smoothly turned a full circle.

"You're flexible."

Fox Mask stopped short at Galahad's compliment.

The deep abysses where the mask's eyes should have been stared at him.

Galahad lowered his head and leaned closer. Meeting those abysses without flinching, he smiled.

"Are you afraid I might learn it? Oh dear."

A very brief silence followed.

Fox Mask let out a small snicker.

"You do keep trying these childish provocations."

Just then, searing pain flared in his shoulder. A small hole had opened in it.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

The Egg of agony trembled violently, its terror spreading.

Galahad reflected on the pain. It had lasted only an instant, but he had distinctly felt it at the surface first. The space had not simply been deleted.

"Ah, yes. I'll give you a chance."

"A chance?"

"We can't simply leave the ruler be. I'll give you a fair chance to fight. After the sun has risen ten times."

He had been planning to deal with the ruler anyway, and now they were even offering to guide him there. How considerate. Galahad nodded.

"You'll even show me the way? How very kind."

Fox Mask paused before continuing.

"Hiding behind the Grand Duke or Adrianna won't help. It would only make things considerably more troublesome. Having them beside you doesn't mean I can't touch you."

Fox Mask was suddenly five steps farther back.

'Now that Hellfire is gone, they're using spatial magic again.'

Galahad went over what he had just seen.

Then Fox Mask abruptly raised a hand.

"Why did you take that?"

They were pointing at Galahad's golden rod.

"It's a souvenir."

Fox Mask laughed harshly at his casual reply.

"You really are entertaining."

Fox Mask vanished on the spot, leaving no trace, just as when they had appeared.

Galahad spread his mana again. Fox Mask was gone.

Only after confirming that did he let out a ragged breath. His legs gave way, and he leaned on the golden rod to keep from falling.

Forcing himself to conjure Hellfire had left him utterly drained.

With trembling hands, he put a cigarette between his lips. The scent of lemon spread deep inside him.

Only then did his seething mana settle somewhat. He drew deeply on the cigarette and recalled Fox Mask.

The figure in the fox mask was undoubtedly a Mage from the Void Mage Tower. Otherwise, they could not possibly have used spatial magic.

The problem was...

'Not a Mage, but a Demon.'

Their ability was closer to an authority than magic. Yet it was not an authority, either.

It was as though...

'Magic has been added to an authority.'

Galahad's eyes grew somber.

They were certainly from the Void Mage Tower. But a Demon? It did not quite make sense.

That meant a Mage had become a Demon.

A Mage from a tower founded by humanity's worst traitor, the first human Mage, had become a Demon.

'I don't like the sound of that.'

Galahad exhaled a long stream of smoke.

Their identity was not what mattered right now. To Galahad, the spatial magic they had demonstrated was more important.

Fox Mask had said it was not something one could learn merely by being taught. They probably meant it. That must have been why they had used it so openly.

Spatial magic was primitive magic, a form dating back to magic's earliest days.

As Fox Mask had said, present-day magic had been "revised" to suit humans. Since something belonging to Demons had been adapted for humans, its power had inevitably diminished. In exchange, it had become more stable and versatile.

A modern Mage might find learning primitive magic difficult. No, it would be so difficult as to verge on impossible.

But Galahad had already restored Hellfire. Showing it to someone like him five times was practically a private lesson.

There were quite a few clues. His earlobe, the hole in his shoulder, and Hellfire, too.

'How kind.'

Magic left traces. However close that spatial magic might be to an authority, it was bound to leave traces as well.

Traces left on the body were even more effective. That was why Galahad preferred experimenting directly on himself.

'Whew... '

Galahad clenched his teeth and inserted a finger into the hole.

Horrific pain assailed him, sharpening his mind further. He slowly moved the mana in his finger, examining the traces.

The wound was clean, as though the space really had been erased.

He refused to give up, concentrating on the wound. He recalled the moment Hellfire had vanished. What the two had in common was...

'Air.'

In magic, air served as a medium. It was hard to imagine air having an attribute of its own.

But now he had clear evidence.

His mind kept turning.

'How?'

He kept assessing. Imagining. Calculating.

And then...

He arrived at an answer.

'Like this.'

Galahad snapped his fingers.

Space a short distance away warped slightly.

It was only a tiny, momentary fissure, but the distortion was unmistakable.

'So that was it.'

Galahad's smile widened.

* * *

'Why hasn't he contacted me?'

Number Eight anxiously bit his nails.

A considerable number of Mages had gathered.

Mages were eccentric by nature. No, they could hardly be otherwise. Those who had come all the way to the North were people who had been pushed out of the central region. With so many of them together, trouble was inevitable.

They had brought a substantial number of mercenaries, too. Combined, the Mages and mercenaries made up a considerable force—enough to threaten even the Seventh Battalion.

The reason the Mages were keeping quiet despite that was simple.

'They don't trust the other Mages.'

They feared being stabbed in the back. Mages were selfish creatures who cared only about themselves to begin with.

As long as nothing unusual happened, he could hold out a little longer.

'Right. What could possibly happen?'

Just then...

"T-trouble, sir!"

A subordinate rushed in with an urgent report. An odd unease came over Number Eight.

"The Mages are moving toward the Demon Realm training camp!"

"Moving? It shouldn't be time yet."

"Well..."

Number Eight narrowed his eyes at the subordinate's reluctance.

"Spit it out."

"Branch Chief Corton secretly opened the Seventh Battalion's main gate..."

"Secretly opened it?"

"Branch Chief Corton said he couldn't stand any more of this mindless pickaxe work and led the Mages toward the Seventh Battalion. He was in charge of access today, so they've already passed through the main gate and are heading for the Demon Realm training camp—"

Number Eight's face twisted as the report continued.

'Corton! You piece of trash! You've finally done it!'

He had a chance to become the Society's president, yet he was charging off with the assembled Mages because he hated swinging a pickaxe. What a worthless bastard!

Still, something felt off.

Even if Corton had been in charge, surely the Seventh Battalion's commander would not have stood by and watched?

There were quite a few of them, but with the fortress to defend from, the battalion should not have been pushed back like this.

It was happening too quickly. Almost as though someone had opened the gates for them.

'Ah. Galahad, then.'

Galahad must have left separate orders. Probably to throw the gates wide open, just like last time. The reason was obvious.

'These bastards can't use magic in the Demon Realm anyway, can they?'

The Demon Realm's mana concentration was incomparably higher than the North's.

Mana always flowed from areas of lower concentration to higher concentration. When the concentration was excessively high, as in the Demon Realm, the mana in a spell would scatter instead.

Nine out of ten Mages would surely be unable to cast magic there.

Was anything more useless than a Mage who could not use magic?

The problem was...

'... Corton should know this, too, shouldn't he?'

Number Eight was genuinely impressed.

* * *

"Follow meeee!"

Corton shouted at the top of his lungs. A throng of Mages followed behind him.

So many Mages obeying his command! He felt an indescribable thrill.

When he had heard that mana stones would determine the next Society president, Corton, too, had initially worked hard with his pickaxe.

Then he had realized something important.

What he wanted was not a fair chance—it was a quick, easy rise to the top!

'I want to get ahead without working for it!'

But the new system made that impossible. To become the Society's president, he had to toil and sweat. It was an utterly vicious system.

At last, an opportunity had come to Corton as he lamented his suffering. A great gathering of Mages, mounting conflict, and sharply opposed desires!

'The time has come!'

He bribed the soldiers to withdraw. Those normally prickly soldiers stepped aside easily. Even the company commanders moved.

Proof that his plan was flawless.

Soon they reached the Demon Realm training camp. It was usually the most heavily guarded location, yet today there was not a single guard.

"Why is security so lax? Isn't this a trap?"

A quiet question rose behind him, from a mercenary one of the Mages had brought. Corton paid it no mind.

The Mages would have no room for doubts once they saw the Demon Realm.

Indeed, far from stopping, they ran even faster.

They entered the Demon Realm training camp. The Mages let out cries of wonder, each in their own way. One even knelt and kissed the ground.

Corton stood proudly at their head.

"I am the one who led you here! If you are Mages, you must feel it! The power of this place! Its potential! Put your faith in me and follow!"

The expected response did not come. The Mages were all too busy being overwhelmed with emotion.

Just as Corton was about to speak again—

"Close the gate."

A curt order rang out. The fortress gate slammed shut.

Naked soldiers had surrounded them before they knew it. The men wore nothing but weapons at their waists. Being surrounded by naked men was distinctly intimidating.

Worse, they were company commanders. The battalion commander stood behind them, too.

'Why are the Seventh Battalion's company commanders here?'

Those company commanders were perverts who rolled around naked in the Demon Realm training camp every day. Their skill went without saying.

Still...

"We outnumber them! I'll show them the greatness of magic!"

Corton shouted bravely, displaying the spirit befitting a Society president.

The problem was...

"Huh? My mana won't move—"

"Th-this concentration is far too high! There's no way we can use magic!"

"It's a trap! A trap! Damn it! Which bastard—"

The Mages could not use magic.

'Aha! That's right! Good heavens!'