Eighty-First Chapter
Atrocious Beasts
In the Institute, students typically obtained credits for attendance and exam scores, and regular exams had been held since Alus had returned to the Institute. For that reason, Alus had put some effort into securing the minimum number of attendance and exam scores, but his recent behavior had been too far from student-like.
The reason, of course, was all the trouble that had been falling into his lap. But it made him give up on worrying about attendance, and he already hadn’t had motivation to earn high marks on pointless tests.
“They were supposed to be flexible, but the teachers who didn’t know anything about it objected and said they’ve reached their limits. It’s way too unreasonable to not get any credits just because I don’t have good enough attendance,” Alus complained.
“Well, that’s true...but you know, they say that a student’s main job is to study,” Tesfia said, agreeing with him, expression bitter.
But it wasn’t enough to vent his frustration. “I don’t get it. I got full marks on the test, and it still wasn’t enough. So are teachers satisfied with students who don’t score well but attend their lessons? If they call themselves first-rate teachers for that, then...”
“Then what?” asked Tesfia.
“Alpha has a dark future. Reluctantly or not, I was a fool to accept Berwick’s claims. Maybe this nation should just fall to ruin.” After saying that, Alus sloppily slumped over his desk. Today was the final day in a series of exams.
He’d held on to the vague hope that getting perfect scores would help, but after the exams, he’d learned that there was a rule that said he needed to have attended a bare minimum of days to get credits. He’d been overcome with hopelessness. After finishing his exams, he returned to his laboratory, but everything felt futile.
“Sir Alus, this doesn’t mean that you will have to repeat a year,” Loki comforted him, putting a cup of tea on his desk. The steaming cup was her way of showing she cared. It had a citrusy aroma with a strong Earl Grey flavor.
Loki lacked attendance like Alus, but she had come to terms with it. Seeing how calm she was, he felt like a child for complaining about the Institute’s regulations, but it just didn’t sit right with him.
“I’ll have to turn to my last resort. If I reveal my rank to everyone, the principal and Governor-General will have to make a move...”
“There you go clinging to authority again. You can’t let yourself get desperate,” Alice said somewhat slowly to keep from sounding too critical. But it wasn’t like Alus was serious. The only reason there hadn’t been an uproar yet was because his rank hadn’t been exposed.
“She’s right. If you do that, then why have we gone all this time keeping Sir Alus’s rank hidden? Things will definitely become a lot more troublesome,” Loki calmly stated the obvious, admonishing him.
Alus snorted and slumped over his desk again. The test results would be posted in a few days, and since Alus had taken part, he would also be graded. Partially to harass the teachers, Alus had solved all the questions with complete explanations, and in some cases pointed out the ambiguity of the question.
“There’s no way they would give a student who gets a perfect score no credit. I would love to see the face of such an insolent faculty member,” he said.
“You’re still at it? You’ve been to their lectures, so you’ve already seen them.” Tesfia was composed, having seemingly done well in the exams. But since she knew his situation, she wasn’t talking back like usual. “Although I could understand how they would feel conflicted giving credits to a student who can’t even remember them.”
“That has nothing to do with it,” he said. “Besides, I’d rather pass on these basic-level lectures that aren’t even practical. But they’re playing dirty. How can not giving me credits even if I get a perfect score be anything but harassment? Well, not that I really care about their trivial lessons.”
Alus realized that he was complaining just like any normal student, and it struck him how pointless it was. He couldn’t deny that he felt bitter, but it would be better to change gears.
“Why don’t we go to the training grounds after this so that you can take a look at the results of our training?”
Alus smiled bitterly as Tesfia seemed to read his mind. “Don’t be in such a rush. Even if we go now, there’s no guarantee that the training ground is open. I know. Why don’t we do it here instead? It’ll be a good diversion too.”
“Sir Alus, doing it here is a little...” Loki hurriedly tried to stop them. The laboratory had all sorts of chemicals and precision instruments. If a spell were to run rampant, it would be quite costly. Of course, the accessories and cutlery that Loki had gathered wouldn’t make it out in one piece either.
“Well, they’ve trained their mana control for so long, I doubt anything serious would happen. Besides, this could provide some training for me too,” said Alus.
“What do you mean?”
Alus glanced at Tesfia and Alice before answering Loki’s question. “If they were to fail, I would immediately interfere with the construct and destroy the spell by force before it could manifest. Well, it’s mostly Fia who messes up. Just in case, I’ll keep Night Mist by my side.”
“So that’s what you mean. I understand,” said Loki. Lately, Tesfia had been training in putting together spells, so rampant spells from her were certainly the biggest cause for concern.
Seeing Loki nod in the corner of his vision, Alus moved to the sofa to watch over the two girls, relocating various papers and materials to the table. He would look over those while watching these two train. Because there was an enormous amount of material to quote and reference, Alus couldn’t waste any time, leading him to conduct multiple researches simultaneously.
Once Alus was seated on the sofa, Tesfia and Alice got straight to training. And for some reason, Loki sat down next to Alus. “By the way, Sir Alus, how are these two’s training progressing?” she asked.
“Not much has changed since last time. And I can’t say how your independent training is going,” he responded, glancing at the girl next to him. He took a short breath before continuing. “Well, thinking about it normally, Alice will pick it up quicker than Fia. She’s quick once she picks up the knack to something. Fia is, well...”
Right then, Alus saw something fly through the air with great force. Immediately afterwards, a deafening noise rang out.
“Ahh! What am I going to do...?!” Alice held her golden spear to her chest, petrified, her face pale.
Part of her golden spear, Shangdi Fides, had flown past Alus, crashed into a cupboard with all of its momentum, destroying the glass door...before slowly sliding down and falling over.
“Now you’ve done it!” Tesfia exclaimed in a panic, but Alus didn’t seem to particularly mind. In fact, he said, “It’s unusual for Alice to be the one to screw up. Well, just save the cleaning up for later and continue training.”
Fortunately, nothing of any real importance had broken. That cupboard was where they pushed everything unnecessary.
“I-I’m sorry.” Alice shrank away.
“Ms. Alice, you really don’t have to worry about it. Sir Alus brought up training her, so the only misfortune is that it happened after I cleaned up,” Loki said to patch things up.
“Right. I’m sorry; I’ll clean it right up...” Alice tried to hurry to the cupboard, but Alus forcibly stopped her.
“Don’t do anything else during training,” he said. “You’ll ruin your focus. You’ve got the essentials, so success or failure, just reflect on things first.”
“O-Okay...” stammered Alice.
“By the way, Alice, you asked Fia about figuring out spatial coordinates, didn’t you?” asked Alus.
“Yeah, how did you know?” asked Alice.
“While it’s true that using Fia’s approach for Zepel and its spatial coordinates could be effective for your own training, there’s a difference in your personal natures. And that approach requires a great deal of sense, so try this instead.” Alus held out a hand with his thumb, index finger and middle finger held high.
Alice copied it with her own hand.
“The three fingers show the x-, y-, and z-axes,” Alus explained. “And the combination of the fluctuating mana that runs through these axes creates a field that shows the directionality of the mana. Keep that form in mind and use just your three fingers to control the circle. Once you can make complex maneuvers with one circle, increase the numbers by one until you can handle all three. When you get used to that, try bending your finger joints, or crossing them and such.”
As Alice stared intently at her hand, Alus continued, “For example, try bending and stretching your thumb up and down. Incorporate those instructions into your AWR. It’ll be double the effort, but it’s worth it to get used to handling it initially. As the AWR becomes accustomed to its user’s mana, the repeated motion will naturally become optimized, and eventually you will be able to move the circles with just the image in your head.”
Alice’s AWR was split into the golden spear part and the circle parts, and they could act independently.
The spear and circles were split, but they were made from the same meteor metal, making it very easy to work with.
“Okay, I’ll give it a try!” said Alice. After just fixing the collapsed cupboard, Alice turned her back on the shards and objects to get back to training.
Once Alus had finished explaining, Loki gently leaned close. “So going back to the previous question—how are the two progressing?”
Perhaps rivalry motivated her persistent questioning. But they each had their own obstacles and difficulties, so there was no point in competing. On top of that, Loki’s task was leagues more difficult than theirs.
“I’d say that Alice is about thirty percent of the way. Once she gets a hang of it, she’ll finish quickly. And I can’t say for sure when it comes to Fia, but I’d guess around fifty percent,” said Alus.
“Are we talking about the same Ms. Tesfia?!” Loki gazed in wonderment and brought her face even closer. Alus inserted a hand between them to block her, but he could understand her surprise. For starters, Tesfia had been tasked with learning Cocytus, which wasn’t the kind of spell one could learn with just a little bit of effort. And limiting its effective area to the tip of a finger didn’t make it any easier to learn.
Knowing Tesfia was listening in while training, Alus continued, “Did you see her mock battle against Lilisha? There was a moment where she suddenly changed, wasn’t there.”
“Yes, the air around her changed...” said Loki.
“On top of that, her mana itself changed. She didn’t follow the construction for Cocytus, but she created a similar effect,” Alus recalled, thinking of that day as he explained. Tesfia had been cornered in her match against Lilisha when she succeeded in freezing Lilisha’s mana steel thread, despite the other girl’s skilled handling of the threads and clear advantage in mana control.
Frankly, it had been beyond her capability to interfere with the thread, yet she had been able to do so anyways. It didn’t make much sense to Alus. There was no step in the process or activation of Cocytus that required one to change the quality of their own mana. All Alus could think was that there was something more to her than just talent.
“Maybe it was the third step of the Fable family’s inherited magic. Another formula that triggered by itself,” pondered Alus.
“Is something like that possible?” asked Loki.
Tesfia had stopped all pretense of practicing, but Alus didn’t answer Loki’s question. Instead, his consciousness sank into a sea of thoughts.
It was an interesting phenomenon. He thought back to the perfect magic Selva had mentioned. Alus believed that when it came to magic, humanity would never be able to beat Fiends. Humanity had tried all manners of methods to create complete magic, but he had a feeling that no matter how much they developed it, it would never be perfected.
Sure, there was meaning in continuing research, but people would eventually reach their limits, while Fiends could control magic by their very being as their cores were its source. So they were experts in mana from birth, and while the weakest couldn’t use it, their bodies were fully adapted to mana.
With that premise in mind, Alus pondered in what way the Fable family’s inherited magic was perfect.
No matter what form, if it’s perfect, it’s not going to be something half-hearted, Alus thought to himself with a defiant smile. He then finally answered Loki’s question.
“Well...I honestly couldn’t say if it’s possible. But there is a way to find out,” Alus said, mostly directed towards the figure approaching behind him, who was all ears. He then turned around and looked into the eyes of the redhead standing there.
“Can I ask what kind of method that is? But please spare me any physical examinations,” said Tesfia, likely referring to the examination Alice had received quite a while ago.
Alus pretended not to see Alice flinch at the mention. “Don’t worry about it. You just have to lend me your AWR. And do you mind if I take it apart a little?”
“Excuse me?” Tesfia exclaimed in a bewildered voice. She furrowed her brow and looked at Alus suspiciously.
It was a pain, but since it was Tesfia’s AWR, he couldn’t just take it from her. “It’s true that you are starting to become able to use something like Cocytus, but there’s a lot that’s left unexplained. It’s dangerous to leave things as is without understanding it. I’m going to thoroughly look through the basic magic formulas engraved in the AWR. That means taking apart the grip.”
“What? But will you put it back to normal?”
“I’m no expert, but I can make some AWRs myself, so I know how they work. And if it doesn’t work, then we can just take it to Budna’s workshop.”
All sorts of expressions popped up on Tesfia’s face, but after a few seconds, she agreed and passed him her katana. Alus brought his toolbox—which was just a box he’d stuffed with tools—over to the table and poured out its contents.
First, he pulled the AWR from its sheath and brought the blade up to his eye level, looking at it in detail. Tesfia had a rather unrefined side to her, so he’d figured that she wouldn’t maintain it on a daily basis, but it was in surprisingly good condition. The blade didn’t have a single blemish. The Fable family heirloom was nothing short of magnificent; it was worthy of its name.
It might not have used meteor metal, but it was no doubt made with the highest quality material. But even Alus’s trained eye couldn’t tell exactly what it was made out of. The more he observed it, the more he could see what an artistic masterpiece it was, and not just the katana itself.
“The placement of the magic formulas is very calculated too. Kikuri was its name, wasn’t it?” he asked.
“You knew?” asked Tesfia.
“I heard about it from your mother. It’s a strange name, but then again, I don’t get the naming convention for katanas,” answered Alus.
“Well, I don’t really get the origin either. It’s been used for generations,” she responded.
Normally, a high-quality AWR was made to only ever have one user. A good AWR adapted to an individual’s mana, creating habits that made it difficult for others to use. Frose Fable also knew that, which was probably why she’d left it as a blank slate.
“Mrs. Frose said that only the basic magic formula was engraved, with the attribute formula added later, but it’s a little unnatural,” Alus said, narrowing his eyes at the blade. He eventually noticed the peculiarity of the position of Kikuri’s magic formulas—the connecting circuits necessary for the stable and smooth functioning of the basic magic and attribute formulas were placed in strange locations. Even though it was only really noticeable at a close inspection, he certainly felt that something was off. Next he turned to the grip. Finding the rivet, he used his tools to push it out.
“This is strange too,” he mused.
“What is?” asked Tesfia.
“What? What?” At some point, Alice had shown up as well, and they all watched Kikuri being taken apart.
“Take a look,” Alus said and handed the rivet to Tesfia.
“There’s some sort of characters,” she noted.
“It’s a combination of Lost Spells. They’re important characters for connecting magic formulas and serving as a connecting circuit. They’re pretty much obsolete now. New formulas have taken their place. But just for the record, you haven’t removed and completely replaced the rivet before have you?” Alus asked.
“No, I’ve just been maintaining it like normal.”
“I see. It seems to be made of a special metal as well,” said Alus.
Some sword smiths used bamboo as rivets so that they wouldn’t rust. Since the rivet held the grip and the blade together, it would normally be worn down as the blade was swung. Yet despite Tesfia’s frequent use of Kikuri, there was no sign of wear and tear on the rivet. It looked like it had been replaced just yesterday.
“You are well informed, Sir Alus,” Loki said, impressed.
“It’s only knowledge on the surface level,” Alus said. And he wasn’t being modest either. AWRs had evolved, and in the present, there weren’t any workshops that made katanas as a base for them. It was too time-consuming and only people of specific tastes would buy them, so the few that were in circulation fetched sky-high prices. According to Budna, it was simple to copy the shape of a katana, but there was a world of difference in strength and workmanship between one made by an amateur and one made by a professional.
With the rivet removed, Alus put his hand on the grip to remove it. With a sliding sound, the grip settled neatly in his hand. He looked at it again, and it was just as he’d expected—a Lost Spell was engraved into the edge, or so-called “tang,” of the katana. It looked strangely rigid, as if it had been engraved on a note protecting the blade.
“Normally, this is where the name of the swordsmith who struck the katana is placed...” said Alus.
“What is this? A magic formula?” Tesfia leaned over the sofa and took a closer look. She’d had no knowledge of its existence.
“Yeah, it’s a magic formula, all right. But part of it uses some characters I’ve never seen before,” said Alus. Yet he felt like he’d seen it before, however, not directly with his own eyes. It was a vague, fragmented record sunk within the depths of his memories.
The Akashic Records... It’s my first time seeing these characters, yet I remember them. It must have been because I saw that, thought Alus.
When he had fought the Shem Azah in Vanalis, it had fired giant, black stakes. They had contained massive amounts of mana, and when he had touched one, it had flooded his mind with the heights of knowledge—or perhaps nonsensical information—showing Alus memories that didn’t belong to him.
He’d felt a strange sensation as he reached a new level of understanding magic formulas.
But it wasn’t like he had learned how to understand the formulas. Instead, it was like he had come to be able to naturally decipher certain formulas that he hadn’t been able to before, as if he’d learned a language that bridged the gap between the unknown and himself. And as a result, it converted the knowledge regardless of Alus’s intentions and sent it through his mind.
It was a strange sensation, as if somebody were stirring up his brain. It felt like a storage space had been added to his brain, containing the records extracted from the Akashic Records. Shaking himself free from the chaotic sensation, Alus’s consciousness returned to reality.
“Loki,” he said, which was enough for her to understand what he wanted. With a small camera for research in hand, she took pictures of the strange magic formula. “These will be records to analyze. It might have some sort of influence on your training.”
After receiving Tesfia’s permission, Alus looked over Kikuri once again. There was nothing strange about the guard, so it seemed that the magic formula hidden by the grip had some sort of function.
“There was a strange atmosphere for a moment during your mock battle against Lilisha. As if you’d entered a trance. Your consciousness and memories of that time are vague, right? This might be the reason for that. Well, it doesn’t feel like it has any negative influences,” Alus said, reversing the process and putting the blade and grip back together, firmly driving the rivet back in. “There you go, back to normal. By the way, does Mrs. Frose know about this odd construction?”
“Don’t know. This is my first time seeing it, so I have no idea if my mother knew about it.” Tesfia shook her head, taking her katana back.
“Still, the incident with Lilisha happened just after you started learning Cocytus,” noted Alus. It was hard to believe that it was unrelated.
Up until that point, Tesfia’s magic could be handled by the magic formulas engraved on her blade. So perhaps that hidden magic formula covered a different branch of magic, with a differing effect.
As far as Alus could tell, it wasn’t an attribute formula but closer to an individual magic formula.
That said, the modern orthodox style for individual magic formulas was not being followed, and the composition was original to a large degree. Even with Alus’s knowledge he didn’t know what role the unknown Lost Spells served in the magic formula.
“Well, back to training. This is a Fable family heirloom, and it shows no signs of anyone having used it. No quirks have been created either, so there shouldn’t be any harm in using it. It’s not like it’s some occult story about a cursed katana anyways.”
AWRs absorbed mana information and put it through an algorithm to analyze and adapt itself to its user.
In order to accomplish that, they were built not just with sturdy materials but with excellent mana conductivity.
“Yes, it wouldn’t be strange for it to be special since it’s an heirloom. And if there’s no problem with that strange magic formula, then it’s all fine.” Tesfia nodded, having always used the katana.
Looking at that carefree face, Alus thought to himself, But it might be a different story if this is related to the inherited magic. Mr. Selva cautioned me too, so I guess I’ll keep an eye on it.
Of course, he would take a much closer look at the magic formula later. Alus felt like he’d found a fun toy to play with after digging through an old treasure chest.
“Don’t you have any advice for me...?” Tesfia greedily looked at Alus, who was acting like everything was settled.
She wanted to take advantage of the situation to receive some advice, just like Alice would do. That troubled Alus, and he pretended to think for a moment. He considered some rudimentary advice, like the ideal stance for learning magic and such.
Like he mentioned before, Cocytus wasn’t some sort of spell that could be mastered just because one understood the logic behind it. Suddenly, Alus came up with something and decided to try proposing it.
“In your case, you need enough mana to strongly interfere with space, and it must be the ice attribute at that. In practice, that means space in its entirety. In other words, the very concept of information needs to be frozen,” said Alus.
“Okay, and then?!” Tesfia was completely into it, so Alus grabbed a nearby paper.
He drew several lines on it, creating a checkered pattern. “To give you a clue, let’s divide space into small cubes. This is just to give you an image, so they don’t all have to be the exact size. For the sake of convenience you can assign numbers to them, and then you specify their coordinates and freeze them in order. Even if you don’t freeze it, as long as there are signs of magic manifesting within the blocks, that’s fine.”
“So recognizing space and freezing it... Hmm, I can understand the logic behind it, but not how to actually do it,” Tesfia said, folding her arms and furrowing her brow.
But since it had to be done, her worries didn’t matter, and Alus continued explaining. “A space is not a void. This is rudimentary training to recognize the axes of coordinates and your mana’s point of action, the very concept of space itself. It’s important to understand that it’s not a line or a plane, but a three-dimensional space.”
“Hmmm, now it’s harder to understand than before. How exactly am I supposed to freeze space?” asked Tesfia.
“Like this,” Alus casually said and snapped his fingers. The area before them was filled with cold air, and with a crackling sound, something was given shape. Tesfia’s eyes opened wide as a cube of ice appeared. It emitted a blue, cold light that was frozen in midair, as if suspended by string.
“This is remaining unmoving because I’m maintaining the coordinates even after manifesting it, but this is just child’s play. You couldn’t even call this a spell,” said Alus. “In your case, you will pass if you can fill a cubic area with cold air.”
“Got it! With the exams over, I can really get into this!” Tesfia was visibly motivated. She seemed to have completely forgotten about the Tenbram. Then again, the training would come in handy for that too, so Alus decided not to dash her motivation.
But that aside, as far as Alus could tell, the freezing magic that Tesfia had used against Lilisha wasn’t something she could currently use. When he looked at the results of it, it seemed to be some half-assed expert-level spell, like it had taken apart Cocytus and only manifested part of it.
I see, Alus thought, wondering why he hadn’t noticed. Just as Mistlotein was created by overwriting other expert-level spells, it was possible that Tesfia had unconsciously tampered with some magic formula. Of course, she didn’t have the knowledge or technique to pull that off, so it made sense to assume that she had some sort of guidance or assistance. And the first thing that came to mind was her AWR. It was highly likely that Kikuri had unique capabilities.
Alus was also bothered by the fact that it had supposedly been held by the heirs of the Fable family for generations. I’d love to give it a proper inspection some time, Alus thought.
In the normal AWR market, universal products were put through tests to ensure that they functioned properly before being sold. However, that was the buyer’s own responsibility when it came to custom-made AWRs, and they were either put through a special inspection agency or simply tested themselves. Alus had the devices necessary for that in his laboratory, so he could perform some specialized testing.
Meanwhile, Tesfia got right back to training. Focusing on the advice she’d been given, she constructed her magic, one step at a time. But like Alus had pointed out, she gave up on trying to construct the spell completely, and was doing a simple reproduction instead. Focusing on the coordinates particularly, she abbreviated the other construction elements.
Shortly after she started, the temperature in the room dropped as cold air spread. Alice, who had been holding her breath while watching, shuddered. She was hit with the cold air at close range and was rubbing her arms for warmth. While the control left much to be desired, to Alus, it was a good first attempt.
“That’s the spirit. Now you just have to precisely manifest the cold air within the block and then shift over to the coordinates of the next block and slowly expand the area where the cold air is generated. But don’t let up on your mana control,” said Alus.
“Of course. If anything, I couldn’t do this without mana control,” said Tesfia.
“From what I can tell, you are not doing much different from repeatedly casting the same magic, and if you don’t put some mana into it, it won’t last for long,” Loki added a plausible explanation. She seemed to have gotten flustered from Tesfia’s rapid growth and wanted to flaunt her knowledge.
“Yeah, that’s right.” Alus nodded. Loki looked at him with a small, expectant smile, waiting for him to praise her.
Alus felt compelled to commend Loki in some way. However, Loki was a Magicmaster who had fought on the front lines. Unlike a student like Tesfia, more was expected from her.
Hmm, should I tell her not to get full of herself over something like that? No, that’d be no different than some drill instructor. Alus simulated saying a couple of theatrical lines in his mind, but couldn’t help but feel self-conscious.
In the end, he decided to wordlessly put his hand on her head. Loki immediately broke out into a big smile, and he pretended not to notice.
“Well, there you have it. Good luck. If you don’t proceed efficiently, you won’t be making any progress,” said Alus.
“Don’t worry! Leave it to me!” Tesfia declared smugly, earning a chop on the top of her head from Alus. “Ow?!”
With that, the cold air in the room dissipated. “That’s what you get for getting full of yourself. Get back to training,” he said.
While they were speaking, Alice’s circle flew off, desiring freedom once more. But this time before it could destroy something, a rodlike object sprang up through its center, stopping it. Alus had done the opposite of a ring toss, creating a rod of mana and passing it through the ring.
“Looks like Alice has some difficulties ahead of her as well,” said Alus with a small sigh. Alice scratched her cheek as if to apologize.
The two girls trained intensely for two hours after that, taking a break in the middle. Once they were done with that and had cleaned up, they returned to the girls’ dorm in time for dinner.
Loki was in the middle of preparing dinner herself when she suddenly stopped and hesitatingly started speaking. “Sir Alus, uhm...I would like to consult with you about something.”
“Hmm? What?” Alus wanted to ask why she’d waited for the other two to leave, but seeing Loki’s expression, he swallowed those words.
Even if Loki was his partner and they were living together, it didn’t mean he could just say whatever came to mind. It wasn’t like he was looking to be called considerate, but he’d learned some things since they began living together. Alus could sense his own growth. The steady passage of time had been a source of nourishment for him. But Alus put that aside as he looked at Loki’s serious expression and listened to what she had to say.
“It’s about that spell...”
He’d expected it would be related to magic based on her behavior. Alus sat down at the chair of his desk and straightened himself up. It was almost certainly about the vertex of thunder that she was currently learning, which was an ultimate-level lightning attribute spell, and top secret at that. It was a difficult spell to learn, even for Alus. In fact, he had borrowed the magic formula from a top secret database.
Of course, Alus didn’t have much of an affinity for the lightning attribute, so he didn’t have much interest in thunder spells. Black Ikazuchi was among the least efficient spells that Alus had. With mana consumption differing so much between affinities, even if he did learn the spell, he wouldn’t be able to use it outside of special circumstances.
Loki appeared a little impatient. Seeing Tesfia’s and Alice’s growth must have stimulated her sense of rivalry.
“I was thinking about Fire Ikazuchi, but based on the structural elements of the magic formula and the amount of information, uhm, is it even possible for a human to use this?” asked Loki. “I imagine that you are the only one who could learn this, Sir Alus...”
Alus had known Loki for a while, but this was the first time he’d seen her like this. Strangely enough, despite how she was speaking, it didn’t seem like she’d given up. He didn’t think she’d commit a taboo like using a catalyst again, but it seemed she had her thoughts on the matter.
“It’s true. Other spells can’t compare with the amount of information. Frankly, the details are practically a mystery,” said Alus. Being based on an old magic formula, it was difficult to even adjust the spell’s efficiency.
In the modern age, efficiency was key in magic formulas. Simplifications were fine, but old magic was the exception. Coming from an age during which any high-level spells were kept hidden, they were all quite original in their construction.
The balance of the spell being built resembled elaborate stone towers, each with a different design philosophy behind them. Even parts that appeared irrational at first glance often played an important role somewhere. That made it difficult for a third party to make any adjustments, as it might inadvertently ruin the whole thing.
That was especially true for Fire Ikazuchi, as it could have completely unpredictable results. It was not like modern magic, which typically followed the same rules. Because of that, it was possible to understand the effects of a spell just by looking at its magic formula.
But Fire Ikazuchi and other old spells were exceptions. Although with Alus’s ability to decipher Lost Spells through brute force, it might be possible.
“Magic formulas are not entirely set in stone, and there is room for interpretation, depending on the user’s talent and understanding. Well, it’s a mysterious part about magic.” Alus paused and asked Loki, “You didn’t give up out of desperation did you?”
She nodded, “Yes, it’s about this part of the formula. It has some of the fire attribute mixed in, which has a big influence on this and this part.”
Surprisingly, Loki had studied the magic formula thoroughly and deepened her understanding. It was clear that she was making an effort to read and understand each and every part of the formula. But that required a specialist’s level of knowledge, so it was a little difficult for Loki, so she asked Alus for help.
“I don’t believe the attribute formulas on the AWRs I have on hand are enough to complement the formula,” Loki said, pulling out one of her knife AWRs and handing it to Alus. It was clearly meticulously cared for and didn’t have a single smudge on it.
“Well, Fire Ikazuchi is a composite spell, making it particularly difficult. However, there’s a limit to how much this formula can be tinkered with. That said, it would be impossible to fit into a single formula,” said Alus.
All of Loki’s knives were engraved with identical magic formulas, therefore they could be treated like a single AWR. But when it came to handling multiple types of magic or composite spells, they were lacking in versatility.
“And so, uhm.” Loki, seemingly at a loss of what to say, put her shoulders against Alus and pointed at the AWR. “Please wait a minute.”
Suddenly, Loki noticed something and pushed herself away from Alus, smelling her shoulders. That alone was enough to tell what was on her mind.
“I-It’s fine.” Alus wasn’t crude enough to ask what was up. Just cleaning up after Alice’s destruction wouldn’t have been enough for her to work up a sweat. “You smell as good as always,” he said, trying to patch things up.
“What does ‘as always’ mean?!” Loki exclaimed, strangely persistent despite there being nothing to worry about.
“I don’t know. Your shampoo?” asked Alus.
“But you use the same shampoo, Sir Alus,” said Loki.
“Hmm? I guess so. I suppose you can’t tell yourself,” he said.
Even trivial chatter seemed to be necessary communication to Loki, as now she pushed close enough to Alus for their shoulders to almost touch. “Ahem, so anyways, I was thinking of adding this beneath the attribute formula. Only on one of course.”
Loki pulled out a memo out of the desk with ease. Studying magic formulas she was unused to must have been a lot of work. Her trial and error was quite apparent.
But it was his field of expertise, so he thoroughly checked it. It had the typical impractical cherry-picked ideas of an amateur and constructs based on optimistic assumptions. However, it was worth a look, because while faint it had a concrete image of a spell.
“Oh? So you interpreted and gave form to Fire Ikazuchi?” Alus asked. The unpolished string of characters Loki had made showed a clear path for putting together a spell with a proper image of the finished product.
“H-How is it? This was the only method I could think of replicating it but...will a crude magic formula like this work?” asked Loki. She was like a severely self-conscious student coming to a veteran professor to ask rudimentary questions, but Alus gave her idea full marks. The diligent student’s brilliance was almost enough to move one to tears.
The crude magic formula was diligently put together, and it tickled Alus’s scholarly spirit. His brain was already beginning to spin at full speed, jumping between different ideas and logical conclusions. He instantaneously assembled a hypothetical magic formula and then took it apart to see if there was room to fit the formula somewhere.
Repeating that trial-and-error process, Alus was fully invested in resolving the problem that should have been Loki’s assignment. And that led him to say, “It wouldn’t be impossible. If anything, you should forcibly try to incorporate it. This is an interesting point of view, appropriating the core construct of summoning magic. But it won’t work like this. And it will all be for naught if it hinders the attribute formula engraved on the knife.”
Alus stood up and pulled out the books on summoning magic from the bookshelves. They could use them to identify the magic formulas of all the summoning spells, picking out the ones that could be used.
“They’re all formulaic. Is there something that we could use...?” asked Alus.
Alus had reacted much more than Loki had expected, and she tried to get his attention with soft “Uhms” and “Excuse mes” but to little effect, so she boldly hugged Alus’s waist and stopped him from moving. It wasn’t quite so modest, but it couldn’t be helped. Once Alus was like that, there was nothing else she could do.
“Hmm?! What are you doing?” Surprised, Alus stopped flipping through the pages and looked at her with wide-open eyes.
Loki whispered a suggestion into his ear. “Sir Alus, how would Phoenix work?”
“That is my interpretation of the spell...! I see, they would be about as old. Not to mention that I played around with that magic formula quite a lot. All right.”
Alus had perfect memories of the formulas for spells he had devised himself. Phoenix was a fire-attribute summoning spell, but when manifesting it could use the mana of other attributes, so it contained a unique magic formula.
If he’d put it in the Magic Compendium, Alus could probably receive glory and profits, but he’d chosen not to make the formula public. With the creator’s name left blank, some people would inevitably get suspicious and try to investigate the creator, and since he wanted a peaceful life, he chose to pass on that.
Phoenix had also been engraved into one of the rings of his AWR, so a lot of key points had been abbreviated. But right now, that might instead be useful.
Nevertheless, it would no doubt take several days to create a smooth combination of Lost Spells. They needed to be positioned in a way that made them as effective as possible. The formula also couldn’t get in the way of Fire Ikazuchi and would need to be condensed to a size that could be engraved on Loki’s knife.
It would no doubt require an extraordinary number of attempts. To begin, Alus opened a virtual monitor, starting simulation software and inputting data into a virtual blueprint. Then something occurred to him. “Come to think of it, Loki, did you get this idea from seeing the magic formula hidden behind the grip on Tesfia’s Kikuri?”
“The idea of engraving it on the AWR came from there. But I already thought that it would be difficult to construct the magic formula and manifest Fire Ikazuchi in the ordinary way. So I decided to try and break down the magic formula,” she said.
Loki had only consulted with Alus because she felt that it would be impossible for a human to process such a large amount of complicated information all at once, so she had looked for a different approach.
She had abandoned the traditional way of thinking and looked over it with a flexible perspective, coming up with an approach that nobody had seen before. In a sense, it was the ultimate imagination and creation.
“That’s correct. Currently, there are some ultimate-level spells that don’t even have anyone that can use them. In other words, reproducing them is essentially equivalent to creating them from scratch. There are plenty of cases of spells that are strictly confidential and the magic formula is only demonstrated.” As the software was in the process of going through tens of thousands of patterns, Alus began talking. “Are you planning on reproducing Fire Ikazuchi as a pure summoning spell?”
“No, I don’t think the original spell was summoning magic. But I thought that it would need some parts from summoning magic,” said Loki.
“I think you’re on the right track. I honestly don’t know who created the vertex magic formulas. The only thing that’s clear is that they are from an old time. It’s a famous collection of lightning attribute spells, but their development and how they were handed down is wrapped in mystery,” said Alus.
As he thought about it, he realized they must have been from the height of magical research, when even taboo spells were being created. And because the spells were created during that chaotic period, much was left unclear. Later, when the spells started being treated as taboo, details were hidden, leaving only the spell names behind, stored in military or national databases.
But no matter how dangerous they might have been, such vast power couldn’t be abandoned. It was proof that people were aware of reality and that an ideal world without weapons wasn’t going to happen, especially not when nations were fighting each other and new threats such as Fiends could be born at any time. Not thinking about any of that, Alus and Loki exchanged technical terms as they worked through the challenges throughout the night.
There was an enormous amount of work to be done, including analyzing a vast number of patterns. It definitely could not be done in a day or two. After narrowing it down as much as possible, the verification process would begin. If they couldn’t get any results from that, they would need to start from square one.
Normally, they could just expand the formulas on her AWR, but Loki’s knives were very small so the space was finite. They would need to compress the formula to make it fit.
It was a high hurdle, but that only motivated Alus more. He’d overcome challenges like these time and time again in the past. He saw meaning in challenges that everyone else gave up on. Plus he just found it enjoyable.
But even the aforementioned work was only theoretical constructions. Certainty was necessary when creating a real AWR. Once a magic formula was drawn up, it was engraved on mana conductive materials used to make AWRs and put through testing to ensure the formula functioned properly and that there weren’t any inadequacies or blockages in the flow of mana. If that failed, they would need to go back to the drawing board, having wasted a large amount of time.
That was why Alus had taken to calling them an exam. Because if it failed the exam, it would create a bottomless pit of despair. Sometimes it could take years to seek out all of the problems.
Alus and Loki struggled through the night to improve the formula, and before they knew it, they had fallen asleep and didn’t wake up until the evening of the following day. Loki reflected on the fulfilling night and found herself glad they were past exam period and that lectures were not going on now.
She hurriedly got to work on preparing food, but considering the time they had woken up, it was already time for dinner. It was after they’d eaten that the ringtone sounded, sending ripples through the room.
It frustrated Alus, but it was inescapable as long as he was inside. As the ringtone was so unique, it was clear who was calling. Picking up on Alus’s bitter expression and his hesitation, Loki sipped her tea in silence. Meanwhile, the ringtone continued unceasingly.
If it had been someone impatient, they would have lost their temper from being ignored, but this person was very obnoxiously stubborn. It was a call from the head of the military—a person of paramount authority, a veteran who kicked back on a luxurious chair on the top floor of the military headquarters.
“Nobody’s home,” Alus bluntly said after a moment when the call went through.
“I see. So nobody’s home? Then I will just have to come directly to you,” the tired voice said in a tone too low to sound like a joke.
Alus had expected as much, since the Governor-General had gone out of his way to use a secret line. It was obvious that Berwick wasn’t calling to have a fun chat. It would be so much easier for Alus if the old man was just calling to ramble.
“You seem to be in a bad mood, Governor-General. Don’t you think you’ve been working too hard lately?” Alus asked in a polite tone.
Berwick had a habit of changing the inflection of his voice to make it easier for Alus to guess what he wanted to say. Of course, it would be troublesome to talk about serious topics with the same lighthearted enthusiasm as meeting up with an old friend.
“That sort of consideration is unusual for you,” said Berwick. “To be honest, I would love more appreciation but it doesn’t come with the job.”
“Then may I suggest that you give up your position to the next generation,” Alus said, only partially joking. Berwick just sighed, and Alus ignored it. “Well, isn’t there something you want to start off with? I was expecting this to be an apology for what happened,” he continued forcefully.
It was clear that Berwick had been part of Cicelnia’s plot, and it wasn’t a topic that he could avoid. A heavy silence fell between the two.
“I hope you can understand the circumstances involved and...forgive me,” Berwick’s troubled voice said from the call.
That was enough to convince Alus that Berwick had been Cicelnia’s accomplice and therefore a traitor in a sense. “So sending Lilisha to keep watch on me was all part of the plan, huh. You already knew everything about her and her family,” Alus stated.
“I’d love to say that I would have told you from the start if that was the case, but I had my hands full. I did try to persist but I decided that there was no need to stop Lady Cicelnia’s plot. It’s vexing in many ways, Alus,” said Berwick.
In the end, there was no escaping it for Alus. It was frustrating, but there was no doubt that Berwick had just barely avoided the worst outcome. The difference was in the extent of how well the people using him understood Alus. And in that sense, Berwick understood Alus better than Cicelnia.
“That’s the kind of person Lady Cicelnia is. She is not particularly concerned if the outcome is good or bad. They are both part of the routes she expected. But to us, one of them was clearly inconvenient. So I made accommodations to prevent it, and in the end you made the decision,” said Berwick.
What Berwick was saying without directly saying it was that if Lilisha had lost her life after going after Selva and Aferka had clashed with the Fable family, it would have brought about unavoidable mayhem. Berwick’s words made it clear that he had known what Aferka was up to in advance. Berwick must have decided that letting Lilisha get killed, thus triggering a conflict between Fable and Womruina, would be a bad choice.
Incidentally, either way would have ended up with Aferka being crushed and reorganized, so the only difference was the amount of blood spilled.
Cicelnia had even put herself on the bet, taking Aferka’s Rayleigh going off the rails into account, and while that was fine for a gambler like Cicelnia, it was too risky for Berwick’s tastes. It was impossible for others to get a measure of the gambler inside of Cicelnia.
Berwick had feared that if Alus got involved, there’d be chaos in the noble circuits and perhaps even Cicelnia would lose her life. That was why he’d sent Lilisha to the Institute and had her form a connection to Alus. And Alus had gone against his usual indifference and chosen to get involved. Like a billiards ball, it had affected all of the other pieces, leading to this chosen future.
“So were you behind Garb Sheep being mentioned in the Magic Compendium too?” Alus asked. That had been why Alus had visited the Fable family. Berwick must have been convinced that Alus would notice it.
Suddenly, a small laugh came from the other end. “So you bring up that. We’ll just call it even for the magic formula for Fire Ikazuchi that you took out of the secret database.”
“I thought it was only fair compensation for all of my cooperation,” Alus lied, clicking his tongue in his mind. He hadn’t thought that it would go unnoticed, but now that it had been brought up, he could only hold his tongue.
He wouldn’t go so far as to say all’s well that ends well, but it seemed that everything had worked out in the end. The only hassle had been what Alus felt was his wasted time and effort.
Even if he wasn’t entirely satisfied, the current situation wasn’t bad for him. Right now, Alus had control of the initiative. Even if the magic formula card had been offset, he still had Lilisha.
So if Alus made a point of expressing his displeasure and dissatisfaction, Berwick would need to explain himself. For better or worse, Alus had mastered the act of bargaining after going up against the battle-hardened Berwick, and right now he was enjoying having the upper hand for the first time in a long while. But there was one more thing he wanted to report and confirm with Berwick.
“By the way, do you know about the Tenbram?” Alus asked.
“Of course. It’s a little too slow to deepen connections to the Fable family, but it’s fine if you’re okay with it. I remember bringing up meeting with the daughter long ago...but I guess that ended before you enrolled into the Institute. I’m sorry, Loki, that was boorish of me.” Despite being an audio call, Berwick apologized to Loki, who’d been keeping her presence hidden.
Loki was momentarily taken aback by the old tale, but silently bowed at Berwick’s apology. However, Alus didn’t know why Berwick was apologizing to her. He also had no memories of any talks about Tesfia...or maybe it had been brought up too long ago for him to remember. He wondered if perhaps it had been Berwick trying to be considerate by matchmaking them.
Despite Alus remaining a blockhead, Loki looked to him for permission before answering Berwick’s apology. “Thank you for your consideration, Governor-General. Your keen insight is what allowed you to think about Sir Alus’s future. But the past is the past. It’s the present that is important,” Loki proudly asserted, not yielding one bit.
“You’re right,” Berwick said, laughing in response.
There was a harmonious atmosphere between Berwick and Loki, like they were a grandfather and granddaughter, but Alus was unfamiliar with relationships like that and was feeling left out.
As Alus dubiously raised an eyebrow, Berwick moved on to the real issue at hand. This abrupt and unforgiving approach was Berwick’s forte. It was an effective weapon that took advantage of a person’s openings, completely ignoring the mood.
Alus, who had firsthand experience with the approach, looked as disgusted as always, but it was an audio call so there was no way for Berwick to see it and said, “A border guard was attacked the other day. All media recordings were wiped out but we did receive a report of two suspicious individuals entering Alpha.”
There was the headache. And it was a big one.
“Is that a report from Lord Vizaist? Still, to receive direct orders from the Governor-General in response is as awe-inspiring as always,” Alus said, his voice like a barb.
But Berwick continued without hesitation. “More specifically, there were signs of some sort of offensive spell being used, and there were casualties among the guards. I sent over a map and other data to you.”
Despite the annoyance he felt, Alus started up another virtual monitor and opened the data sent to him over the confidential line. It was a watchtower on the edge of the middle district with a nearby village in an otherwise unpopulated area. It was a remote area Alus had never been to.
“Am I supposed to chase after them? What about the conditions? I haven’t said that I’ll do it yet,” Alus said cryptically.
“Don’t be in such a hurry,” Berwick said and continued. “Of course they’re wanted, dead or alive. The security forces are not a match for them, and this time there are multiple targets.”
Strange.
Berwick had said that there were two assailants, but now there were “multiple.” Alus’s cheek twitched. He had a bad feeling about this.
“The Trojan Prison has fallen; it was a mass prison break. We’ve also learned that the ones who invaded from the Clevideet border were the prison’s warden and vice-warden,” explained Berwick.
That made it clear that the two were behind the prison break. The prison warden had betrayed the establishment by letting the prisoners out through the front door. But that would still put them in the middle of the Outer World.
Unlike Loki, Alus had heard of the prison’s existence. He didn’t know exactly how it worked, but he interpreted it as the final destination for violent magical criminals.
“The Trojan Prison was formerly a research facility,” said Berwick. “There was an overly talented researcher there, performing illegal human experiments that could never be done in the Inner World with the unspoken agreement of the seven nations. I’m sure you get what I mean when I say the ‘provisional punishment.’”
“So that’s what it is. In other words, the convicts were drained of mana, which was then supplied to the nations.” Alus couldn’t see Berwick, but he could imagine his face. It was surely incredibly displeased.
The provisional punishment was a heavily criticized punishment said to be more painful than the death penalty. After all, having mana drained by a device was a painful process they would only be freed of when their lives ended.
“Anyways, it was full of notorious magical criminals. I’m sure I sent a lot of them there myself,” said Alus.
“I suppose. However, we’ve learned that many of the escaped prisoners are hiding within Alpha,” responded Berwick.
Alus could only curse his bad luck. He could practically feel his strength leave his body. “Hiding? Since when?”
“We don’t know the details yet. But probably since around the time you returned from Vanalis,” said Berwick.
Alus let out a small sigh. “So just summon Lettie and have her help.”
“She has already left her post to investigate the area around the Trojan Prison. I recall her being quite annoyed at being given a delicate mission,” said Berwick. Being sent to Vanalis had been one thing, but heading over to territory controlled by another nation was more like a diplomatic mission, a poor match for someone with her personality. “Besides, we would need to accept collateral damage if we use her in Alpha.”
Hearing that, a deep wrinkle formed on Alus’s brow. Lettie specialized in explosive spells. She could control them to a degree, but if she had to hold herself back, it would only trip her up. And now they were up against escapees from the Trojan Prison. They would definitely bite back, and if she got impatient, she might end up blowing up an entire town.
Alus considered other skilled Magicmasters. “How about Sajik and Mujir?”
“After returning from investigating the Trojan Prison, they will be concentrating on protecting the capital. We also need to station Magicmasters in Vanalis.” Berwick’s argument was so sound that there was no room for rebuttals.
It was for this very reason Aferka existed, but they were currently the ruler’s personal guard. Not only was the chain of command different, but there was no guarantee that Cicelnia wouldn’t do something unnecessary. If there were vicious criminals hiding in Alpha, Alus would need to go. It was true that there was nobody else who could go.
“Governor-General, is this why Cicelnia hurried to reorganize Aferka?” Alus asked in a stiff tone.
To which Berwick answered, a little daunted, “I don’t know either... It is possible.”
Cicelnia had Alpha’s Eye working directly under her. And as a ruler, she was privy to information that Alus or Berwick didn’t have, so this could be the reason Cicelnia had been in such a rush. The timing was just too good to be true.
“So has Aferka already identified the escaped prisoners’ movements?” Alus asked.
Alus would have liked a mention of it during Lilisha’s inauguration ceremony, but perhaps they hadn’t found anything tangible. Or maybe...
Did she go ahead to earn a track record? Alus wondered.
It was exactly the kind of thing that Cicelnia would think of, but there was no way of confirming anything. Lilisha had taken a few days off from the Institute.
“Who knows. And Aferka is not under my jurisdiction. I don’t know how far ahead Lady Cicelnia has seen either. But she will be moving for Alpha’s sake, so she won’t get in our way,” said Berwick.
“I’m amazed you can say that when we’re already surrounded by trouble,” Alus said. He didn’t want to think very much about Cicelnia. The way she thought of everything as a game was extremely tiring. “If I can refuse, I’d love to pass...but I guess that’s not possible. I would at least appreciate it if you can reduce the burden somewhat.” Alus could only hope.
“Oh! So you’ll do it!” exclaimed Berwick.
Talk about shameless, Alus thought as he glared at the black call screen. He imagined the Governor-General happily bringing his hands together on the other end of the call.
“I’ve sent the prisoner registry to you. Take a look at it. Vizaist seems to be struggling with it too. There are also notes for some of the escaped prisoners that we have been able to verify. And while top secret, news of the incident has already reached the ears of other nations’ top brass. Of course, they won’t meddle needlessly.”
Alus decided to disregard his frustration that Berwick hadn’t just sent this info with the map data. He carelessly opened the list, which contained the names and numbers of the prisoners as well as a record of their crimes before being captured. As he ran his eyes through the list, he came to a realization. His body stiffened for a moment.
Loki noticed that and impatiently asked, “Sir Alus?”
Alus’s stare was fixed on one name in the list. After a while, he spoke up in a low, growling tone. “Governor-General, I killed this woman. So why is she on this list?”
His chilling tone made even Loki’s body freeze. The rising tension could even be felt from the other side of the call.
There was a moment of silence before Berwick spoke in a restrained tone, conveying facts in a blunt way. “Nox, is it? It just means that she hadn’t died at that point. You should know that better than anyone.”
While he wanted to blame Berwick, Alus felt like he held part of the responsibility. Nox was a female executive of Kurama, and her work in the shadows had proven very troublesome for both Alus and Vizaist.
After their encounter with Nox, Alus had proposed they wipe out Kurama, but the top brass had rejected it. Even though they didn’t have the strength needed to pull it off, the top brass were being very heavy-handed at the time, and not even Berwick could persuade them. So Alus had taken down Nox behind the scenes, but he’d failed to finish the job.
“So it’s my fault.”
Nox had gained notoriety in the underworld as the mass murderer of the century. It had taken a great deal of money and effort for the military to conceal that fact, and they were forced to focus on information control.
If she’s still alive and uses that thing against a city, there’ll be hundreds or even thousands of dead, he thought, his expression stiff.
Berwick spoke as if to calm him down. “Don’t worry. It’s not a problem. I forgot to tell you, but that’s a list of everyone who has been confined in the Trojan Prison. While the majority have escaped, there are some exceptions. On the way to the prison, Lettie confirmed that Nox is dead. The body was quite decomposed, but the cell record and number indicate that it’s Nox. Look at the black check mark next to the name.”
Alus looked at the list again, and did indeed see a black check mark next to several names in the list. That meant that they weren’t counted as targets because they were either still imprisoned or dead, like Nox.
“Incidentally, we don’t know her cause of death. Just know that you’re not the only one dissatisfied with this. There are a lot of mysteries with this incident. There aren’t even many signs of conflict in the Trojan Prison,” said Berwick.
“I bet. If the warden and vice-warden were working with them, then I doubt there was even time for chaos to erupt,” said Alus.
“Yeah. They also found the bodies of that researcher and several guards, all with their heads crushed. Maniacs with a penchant for human experiments or not, their contribution to humanity is a certainty.”
After Berwick finished his report, there was a silence as he waited for Alus’s response. Berwick had found out what happened at the Trojan Prison faster than any other nation thanks to Vizaist’s work, but he was forced to take extrajudicial measures because of international laws. Lettie’s investigation was likely also done in secret.
Still, it was turning into a huge deal. Berwick continued waiting for some sort of reaction, but Alus only gave him a fed up “And?”
“I’m also forming another squad,” said Berwick. “They’re not as experienced in battles against people as you are, but complaining will get me nowhere. I want you to take care of the most dangerous of the escapees.”
“I understand. I don’t know what they’re planning, but who knows where the fireworks might go off as long as they’re in Alpha,” Alus said, reluctantly nodding. “It’d be too much of a pain being dragged all over the place if that were to happen. I at least want to get this done soon so I can get a good night’s sleep.”
“Should I attach some people to you?” Berwick asked, but there was no guarantee that Magicmasters in the Outer World were as useful inside. Many were reluctant to use magic on another human being; otherwise, Aferka would never have been necessary. Meanwhile, the internal security forces lacked strength, and these were serious magical criminals.
Alus considered that and gave an immediate reply. “No, that won’t be necessary. But...Governor-General, did you time this for just after the exam period?”
“Unfortunately, no, I only wish I had that much leeway. It is a major incident within the nation. You understand what that means don’t you?” asked Berwick.
Alus’s answer was silence.
If information leaked, the nobles would become unhappy with the current government and actively get involved. Then they would point their criticism at Berwick, using it as the perfect chance to show the populace their worth. And Berwick had plenty of political opponents, making this a dangerous spot for him. In hindsight, Cicelnia’s hard-line stance of reorganizing Aferka could pay off by driving a wedge between those nobles.
Berwick was also waiting for a follow-up report from Vizaist. Meanwhile, Alus resented still being in the military. He cursed the duty of a soldier that bound him. He was also tired of this kind of exchange.
“So about the reward this time...” Alus began. Alus frankly wasn’t interested in a monetary reward. He already had more than he could use, and he didn’t see any reason in adding more to that pile. That was why he’d requested things other than money that caught his interest. But this time... “I don’t need it. If I were to say, it’d be credits...but I guess that doesn’t matter at this stage. At any rate, there’s nothing I want anymore,” he said.
Berwick tensed a little. “Hmm...are you sure? You could ask for anything, even if it’s a little hard to get a hold of or requires a bit of man power.” The old books that Alus had asked of Berwick before had been difficult to find, so he had likely used military manpower for it. “I can grant you anything but time.”
Alus showed no interest in even that offer. True, he wanted time—he could get a hold of anything else as long as he had time. In that sense, there were still quite a few things that caught Alus’s interest, but he did not intend to ask anyone else for them.
At this rate, they would be stuck arguing back and forth.
“Then let’s discuss this again once this is over,” said Alus.
“Hmm, very well. The Governor-General usually has a lot of authority, but your requests are so specific that it’s difficult to use it effectively.” Berwick’s excuses came through the speaker rather quickly. In reality, Berwick could grant pretty much anyone’s wishes aside from Alus’s, but it no longer mattered to Alus. Suddenly Berwick spoke up in a serious tone. “That aside, Alus, try to conceal your identity as much as possible for this mission. Do you have any disguise you can use?”
Alus gave the monitor a dubious look. “Why? Surely it’s too late for that.”
“The targets are vicious escapees from a secret prison,” said Berwick. “It is possible that they would need to be eliminated without leaving behind a shred of evidence.”
“You mean not to leave a single trace behind?” asked Alus.
“Yes. Even now, they remain in hiding without giving us any leads. I believe they have a formidable intelligence network and people working with them. If there are too many rat holes, just destroying one won’t be enough to shut down their network.”
“So it would be bad if I were to fail to take one of them down after they see my face?”
“Something like that,” said Berwick. “Lady Cicelnia and I will be enough to cover for you on the surface, but it’d be a problem if your face is leaked into the underworld.”
Alus was certainly capable of doing behind-the-scenes work, even assassinations, but that wasn’t widely known. They couldn’t allow for a Single’s prestige to be diminished. Mistrust of the military was directly connected to distrust of its Magicmasters. And distrust of Magicmasters meant distrusting magic itself, which would lead to accusations and hostility towards those in power.
“There’s been an annoying insistence on how bloodied Aferka has been reborn as a clean royal guard. Just like how Rusalca’s Jean Rumbulls’s looks and soft demeanor is playing a role in the nation’s image. In other words, it’s a change of diplomatic strategy,” said Berwick. He then turned to his own nation. “As for Lettie, she doesn’t know how to act.”
She was liable to punch anyone who complained to her.
“Lettie is still not... Let’s leave it at that. But it’s not like Magicmasters are meant to be some sort of celebrities,” said Alus.
“I know. It’s not like I’ll demand that you sit down at a fan gathering for an autograph session. Besides, having a different face for acting incognito can be pretty convenient. For example...you could go to the theater or dinner with your sweetheart,” said Berwick.
“I don’t have anyone like that.”
“Oh, I wonder. Ah ha ha.” Berwick evaded the topic with a deliberate laugh, but Alus just sighed and looked sour.
“Well, if we’re talking about a disguise, I suppose I do have one,” he answered, glancing at the corner of the room with a grimace.
“Then use it. And we’ll handle the details as usual. Work together with Vizaist,” said Berwick.
“Understood,” Alus said and reached out to end the call when Berwick let a few words slip like a parting gift.
“This time we have unofficial cooperators from Clevideet. I don’t believe you’ll meet, but just in case.”
“Understood,” he said again and ended the call before Berwick could say anything unnecessary. He didn’t know who these cooperators were, but it didn’t matter as long as they didn’t hold him back, so he didn’t have any further interest in them.
While Alus slouched in his chair, Loki stood up with her back straight. He pointed to his own room, and Loki nodded in return. He wasn’t sure if he should be happy or sad that this alone was enough to convey his intentions, especially this time.
Loki happily disappeared into his bedroom and came out with a black suitcase. Seeing Alus nod, she opened it up with a bright smile, but to Alus it was a depressing sight.
“This is what you wore at the Magical Martial Arts Demonstration in the Seven Nations Friendship Magical Tournament, isn’t it, contestant Ulhava?” asked Loki.
“Don’t say contestant,” said Alus.
“But I think it’s cool,” said Loki.
It was a black outfit with a mask that had been bestowed upon him by Cicelnia. It was a convenient disguise, but Alus didn’t find it aesthetically pleasing in any way. But based on how excited Loki was, he realized that apparently he was the only one who felt that way, so maybe he should be questioning himself.
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