265. Paltennoia, The End of the Empire (3)
Marlin’s face turned pale in an instant. If a powerful and unfamiliar mage suddenly shows up at a den of wandering mages, no different from vagabonds, and says he needs test subjects, it can only mean one thing.
‘Human experimentation…!’
Wandering mages are not affiliated with any academy. This means they are completely exposed to external threats. Moreover, the body of a mage with embedded magic circuits can sometimes be considered an extremely efficient test subject.
It wasn’t just Marlin. Every mage in the room had the same thought flash through their minds. The atmosphere, which had been chilled by the overwhelming difference in power, suddenly ignited.
“If that is what the deceased desired…”
Marlin slowly clasped his hands together and spoke respectfully. Here, he was trying to lure them into complacency. But the tone of his voice, the strange rhythm that flowed like a dialect, subtly infused with magic, and the melody-like score of a spell being drawn out.
He couldn’t use offensive magic. The difference in skill in magical combat was too vast. Therefore, cooperation and ambush. Marlin’s spell was a warning. A warning pheromone-like signal to all the mages staying in this inn, belonging to this inn.
“We have no choice but to fight!!”
-Wham!
-Crack!
-Zing!
Ambushing the strong is a basic skill of wandering mages. The foundation of magical combat lies in neutralizing the opponent’s magic. Wandering mages are essentially not much different from well-trained assassins.
Such individuals, the Wildcasts who had wandered aimlessly for years, even decades, simultaneously unleashed their spells. It was a meticulously planned attack, including at least seven or eight offensive spells, half a dozen disruptive spells, and even physical dagger throws.
However, Fernandez was just smiling faintly under his robe.
-How cute.
‘How cute.’
Fernandez gripped the hilt of his sword under his wide robe. He had anticipated resistance, but seeing them resist as expected was enjoyable.
For years, even decades. To an old mage who had wandered aimlessly for forty years, half his life, under the name Wildcast, this was just a cute little performance.
-Clang!
First, three daggers. Among the sharply flying daggers from different directions, the first one to approach was deflected by the pommel at the end of the hilt.
Gloomy blue eyes shone beneath the hood. Next. The dagger aimed at his head was dodged by turning his head, and with that momentum, he reached out and hooked his finger into the ring of the last dagger, catching it!
“What?!”
Dodging a dagger. Of course, it’s possible. Deflecting a dagger? Difficult, and it requires some luck, but possible. But catching a dagger mid-air, its ring hooked by a single finger? Those who can do that belong in a circus or a knight’s order!
Regardless of the shock, the already completed spells were hurled towards Fernandez. He ignored the widely spread disruptive spells. They were simple spells meant to interfere with the weaving of magic by disrupting the flow of magical energy.
‘Anyway, I can’t use magic.’
Using the Bronze Throne, it wouldn’t be entirely impossible, but that would defeat the purpose of the experiment. And next, the offensive spells.
‘I’ll dispel this one, and block that one.’
Fireballs or lightning bolts, physical spells, are useless. What his experiment needed were more intricate and sticky ‘curse’ type spells. In the same posture as catching the dagger, he flicked his finger and clenched his fist.
-Crack!
He had no choice but to dodge the already formed spells, but that would be no fun. A truly overwhelming strongman should exude dignity in every move!
-Boom!
“What the…! Don’t interfere!”
“I, I didn’t do it! That monster did it!”
Screams erupted among the mages. The fireballs and lightning bolts collided and canceled each other out. The targeting was perfect, but the trajectories suddenly shifted, causing them to crash into each other!
“What about the disruptive spells?! How can he still use magic? Did he break through all those disruptive spells?”
“No! He’s not using any spells at all!”
Magical wedges are not considered completed spells. They are not about invoking special effects with magic but rather forcibly inserting small fragments of magic between spells to disrupt them.
Disruptive spell formulas cannot dismantle mere magical wedges, which are just small clumps of magic. Higher-level defensive spells require more complexity and longer casting times.
So, this strange mage. Just by inserting magical wedges between spells, he could bend the direction of completed spells, indicating a highly skilled and advanced spellcaster!
“Damn it! I’ll do it!”
The old man sitting by the fireplace shouted roughly and slammed his staff on the ground. A new spell quickly took shape and headed towards the stranger buried in the aftermath of the explosion.
The old man tore off the tip of his thumb, scattering drops of blood on the floor. Tap, as the blood hit the floor, a red flash bounced off the end of the staff and shot through the black smoke.
“Got it! It worked!”
“What spell was that?!”
“Zick’s Puppet!”
“Great!!”
Cheers of relief erupted among the mages. A master of illusion spells. If the high-level sorcery of the ‘Zermed School’ was perfectly cast, he should be immobilized now.
Indeed, as the smoke cleared and his figure became visible, the atmosphere in the room softened significantly. The hood had fallen off due to the rough movements, revealing the face of a young man gripping a greatsword.
“Young… man…?”
“Did the spell work?”
“Of course. He’s not moving at all!”
The mages slowly approached him, murmuring. The young man, stiff as a statue, with half-white hair…
He stood tall, his blue eyes half-open. At first glance, he seemed like an old man, but he was actually a young man who had just turned twenty.
“Ask him. Ask him why he came here alone. Listen to his excuses, and then decide his execution.”
“Won’t there be trouble? He looks like a noble!”
“So what if he’s a noble? The Empire’s security is a mess right now. Even if we throw his corpse into the canal, no one will care.”
Floating corpses in the canal had become a common sight. At first, the guards investigated diligently, but they found nothing significant.
As the frequency increased, the city’s criminals stopped trying to hide bodies. They just dumped them in the canal, and the guards would clean them up.
Even if an investigation went wrong, there was no one who could figure out anything about this place. So…
“How did this guy even know about us?”
There was no way information had leaked. Trusting wandering mages was foolish, but the academy had never accepted anyone stupid enough to sell out the only reliable lodge in the Imperial Capital.
“But why is he holding a sword?”
“Didn’t you see him move earlier? He looked like he could kill us all with just his sword skills.”
“He’s a monster…”
A mage sighed and took a step closer to him. With just a few magic spikes, he had dismantled almost all the magic in the room. His skill, young age, and knight-like movements were astounding.
“How did someone like this appear? Is he some kind of human weapon? Like the ones the Imperial Palace or the Dukes raise? The butchers.”
“Look at him. If you put armor on him, no one would think he’s a mage. He’s more like a knight.”
As soon as a mage said that, the old man tuning magic by the fireplace suddenly coughed and collapsed with a loud crash.
Silence filled the room. The mages, frozen in shock, stared at the old man.
“Old man! What happened…!”
“He’s neither a mage nor a knight.”
A cold voice came from behind. The mage who had turned to look at the old man slowly turned his head, his lips trembling.
The young man, Fernandez, cracked his neck and straightened his back. He sheathed his sword and rummaged through his clothes, pulling out something like a necklace.
A small chain with a symbol… a rosary. Vaitas’s.
“He’s an Inquisition Officer.”
Fernandez smirked.
* * *
In the black smoke, Fernandez felt the spell flying toward his body—
And he let it take over.
-A puppet, huh?
‘Pretty elaborate.’
Faijashi chuckled. It was quite sophisticated. Worthy of a few ranks below him. For a wandering mage who had spent decades alone, learning magic only through real combat, this was child’s play.
The spell quickly began to take over his body. It was the kind of spell that halted magic circuits and seized control of the flesh.
The problem was, this body had no magic circuits.
And Diemonica’s body had a resistance to magic that wouldn’t break from something this weak.
Lastly…
‘If an incomplete spell is just spread thinly over the body, shattering it is too easy.’
-Crunch.
A sound like bones breaking echoed from somewhere inside the body. Not a real sound, but an auditory hallucination on some sensory level. The spell formulas spread throughout the body shattered like sugar crystals—
-Crack!
They turned to dust, each fragment falling as a tiny piece of magic. Of course, the spell’s effect had long since vanished. All that remained were the magic terminals the caster had set up to maintain the spell.
-Clink!
He seized the magic terminals. In an instant, the entire spell was under Fernandez’s control. The target was locked, and the caster’s location was revealed. If he combined the magic now, the caster’s life would be in his hands.
But there was no need to kill him. Just neutralize him. No, reversing the spell would be more dignified.
The experiment was a success. Newly created spells rarely worked on the first try, but this time it was a clear success.
Even with the condition of being exposed to the opponent’s curse, being able to cast a spell without any tools was a great achievement. Finally, he could use magic directly without damaging Diemonica’s body!
If he were dealing with other demons, he wouldn’t have bothered with such a complicated process. But Urcasia, the Demon King of Insects, was different. For dealing with insects that used plague and curse spells, there was no more suitable spell.
They relied on numbers. From his perspective, magic sources were scattered everywhere!
As the spell succeeded, the remnants of destruction scattered, and the inn’s form reappeared. Fernandez, with his eyes half-open, heard the murmuring voices around him.
“How is this guy a mage? He’s a knight!”
He couldn’t let that slide. Fernandez cracked his neck and spoke.
“I’m neither a mage nor a knight.”
Without magic circuits and no longer researching or exploring mysteries, he couldn’t call himself a mage. Just a spellcaster.
Without honor or a lord to serve loyally, he was just a man with a sword killing people. He couldn’t call himself a knight. Just a butcher, a slaughterer, a murderer.
With a bit of self-deprecation, his situation wasn’t one where he could claim to be a knight or mage. Titles didn’t matter, but to describe a sword-wielding killer who could use spells more elegantly…
“He’s an Inquisition Officer.”
That should do. Fernandez smiled as he scanned the pale-faced crowd. Familiar faces. They might be useful.
The Shadow Academy—too cliché.
Calmburg Magic Academy? Thinking about it now, it was a symbol of failure.
If he gathered them and gave them a new name, he’d need a different title. If the leader of a group of dark mages, wandering mages, and exiles was an Inquisition Officer…
‘There’s a fitting name.’
Fernandez stretched out the rosary and solemnly declared.
“From now on, you will be called Religiosa Maledica (Monastery of Sin).”
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