Chapter 16

“So, do you roughly understand what sorcery is?”

“For now, I’ll think of it as a convenient power created by goblins.”

“There’s no better answer at your current level.”

Al Terua placed a talisman in Quilbion’s hand.

“What’s this talisman for?”

“It’s like a tool used for sorcery, right?”

“Correct. Of course, there are multiple items that can be called magical instruments. Talismans are the most basic type.”

They instructed Quilbion to focus on the talisman. After a few minutes, blue lightning sparked from the talisman Quilbion held.

“I told you earlier, right? Those with talent can learn all forms of sorcery.”

“Yes.”

“What can you infer from that?”

“Without talent, there are limitations to learning sorcery.”

Al Terua lightly scratched the tip of their nose before speaking.

“It’s not that you can’t learn at all. Sorcery is an honest discipline without tricks. With effort, you can reach a certain level. But beyond that certain level, talent is necessary.”

They raised their hand and placed it on Quilbion’s head.

“All the students have different heights, right?”

“Yes.”

“Are you on the tall side?”

“I’m average. Drich is the tallest, and Ulti is the shortest.”

“Can you increase your height just by deciding to?”

Quilbion rose up on his tiptoes.

“I got a little taller.”

“Right, standing on your tiptoes counts as effort if we’re calling it that. But the limit is clear, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Is talent for sorcery similar to this?”

“Exactly. Intelligence is invisible. That makes it difficult to evaluate objectively. But height is all too visible, isn’t it?”

Al Terua examined Quilbion’s interior with discernment. They could see the nark that had begun to sprout.

It couldn’t spread throughout his entire body and remained clumped in his chest. The flow was also slow as a turtle.

“What’s my talent like?”

“I’ve told you countless times. It’s ordinary. No, it’s actually somewhat decent. You did achieve phenomenon induction within a week, after all.”

“Then…”

Al Terua shook their head.

The state of the boy wished for was impossibly distant.

“The nark flowing inside you right now is extremely weak. At this level, the fact that you’ve awakened to sorcery won’t be discovered. The kids brought here are basically ones that suit the goblins’ tastes, so they have a high probability of awakening to sorcery. They also possess nark little by little.”

Quilbion, who’d been listening silently, spoke with a stiff face.

“If I practice and my skill increases, will the goblins easily notice?”

“Yes.”

“The problem is I don’t have enough talent to conceal my nark. I can learn, but it’s half-baked and won’t help.”

He understood accurately.

“Of course, I can intervene to hide your nark for you. But if you need my help to that extent…”

“I won’t be any help to Twella. I’d just be pointlessly taking up your time, Ascetic.”

“Don’t be disappointed. I’m also nothing compared to Twella. The fortunate thing is at least I can point you in the right direction.”

Even at this moment while talking with Quilbion, Twella would be elevating her sorcery to the next stage.

At an unimaginable speed.

Of course, at some point her growth rate would hit a brake. Because nark would grab her by the ankle.

Even so, she’d be able to easily handle the goblins managing this ‘livestock pen.’

“Twella wants me to protect you. So I’m just following that wish.”

A desperate environment.

A man and woman who met in a situation where tomorrow wasn’t visible.

It was natural for them to become each other’s confidants and be drawn to each other.

“Even if I practice, won’t anything change?”

“If you devote considerable time to it, you’ll reach a certain level. But what we need is combat power that can fight tomorrow if necessary.”

Quilbion stood by the window holding the talisman.

“There are goblins outside, but you used sorcery as if it didn’t matter, Ascetic.”

“Unless it’s extremely powerful sorcery, the goblins won’t be able to detect changes in nark. It’s related to domain techniques, but you wouldn’t understand the explanation anyway so I won’t give it.”

“In short, I can practice freely?”

“Something like that.”

Quilbion threw the talisman he held out the window. The talisman, which had been sparking small lightning, fluttered limply and fell to the ground.

The falling talisman was torn into tiny pieces by the sorcery Al Terua had applied and scattered into the air.

“You can use talismans freely. I’ve applied a technique so they disappear before hitting the ground, so you don’t need to worry about it.”

“How many hours did it take Twella to hit that tile?”

Al Terua chuckled before speaking.

“It wasn’t hours but minutes. After I explained the outline and demonstrated, she succeeded in less than 5 minutes. That child was born with an extraordinary fate.”

Quilbion turned his body. His face became visible. The eyes filled with determination were quite burdensome.

Al Terua thought this was troublesome.

What Twella wanted was ‘to prevent Quilbion from learning sorcery.’

They’d given him an unachievable task since words wouldn’t work, but… whether this child would give up was questionable.

It would be easier to tie him up hand and foot and hide him away, but that would make the other goblins suspicious.

Because they were thorough about managing headcount.

For the remaining two days, there’d be no major problem keeping Quilbion confined to this room, but after two days he’d have to return to daily life.

“Well, a promise is a promise anyway. You know how important promises are, right?”

“Yes.”

“Research sorcery freely for two days. Keep challenging it. Nevertheless, if you can’t hit the tile, you’ll give up sorcery cleanly. It’s a man-to-man promise.”^[1]

“You sound like Drich.”

Al Terua made a fist and extended only his pinky finger. Quilbion looked at the hand and tilted his head.

“What’s this?”

“A pledge to keep a promise. You extend your pinky finger too.”

Looking dubious, Quilbion slowly extended his pinky finger. They hooked fingers and squeezed tightly.

“Don’t break the promise.”

“Is this sorcery too?”

“Similar. Though it’s not a hand seal.”

Al Terua pulled out a book and gave it to Quilbion.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a book recording the sorcery of Sitpin’s Yellow Form. It’s the most basic of basics.”

Quilbion opened the booklet.

“They’re bending their hands strangely.”

“That’s what a hand seal is. It’s a posture for easily activating sorcery. Once you get used to it, you can do it like this…”

Al Terua snapped his fingers and said, “Form.” Nark moved along with mana, creating a cool breeze.

“You can also change it to a hand seal that suits you.”

Quilbion immediately formed a hand seal. He pressed his thumb and index finger together to make a circle and pointed at the window with his remaining three fingers.

Al Terua watched with slight anticipation.

Would the nark actually move?

After concentrating for a while, Quilbion lowered his hand. The nark that had been writhing inside the boy’s body quieted down.

“It feels like something’s in the way.”

“Feel the nark first. Nark is closely connected to your consciousness. Conversing with the world through self-awareness—that’s the foundation of sorcery.”

“How did Twella realize something like this?”

“She’s born with it. It’s also a powerful force of fate.”

Quilbion stared intently.

“You use the word ‘fate’ often, Ascetic.”

“Did I?”

“What exactly is fate?”

“Well, fate. That’s…”

Al Terua answered with a complicated expression.

“It’s like a command you absolutely cannot refuse.”

*

Day broke.

Al Terua opened his eyes to slits and raised his head.

The terrible Sun scattered sunlight again today. I miss the real sun so painfully.

While yawning deeply, he stuck out his tongue at the fallen leaf that had entered his mouth.

“Are you awake?”

Twella was above the stream.

Al Terua scratched his head vigorously and asked.

“When did you wake up?”

“The question is wrong.”

“What?”

“I didn’t sleep. So the question of when I woke up is wrong.”

Didn’t sleep.

Al Terua recalled last night.

He’d watched the kid holed up in the corner of the room poring over sorcery books, then came to the warehouse looking for Twella.

Twella had changed again in just half a day. The nark surging within her had become vast enough to fire dozens of White Form sorcery spells and still have plenty left.

His prediction had been spectacularly wrong.

He’d thought that even with high comprehension, development would slow because the nark that needed to serve as foundation wouldn’t increase.

After brief greetings, Twella demonstrated the sorcery she’d mastered.

Al Terua could only marvel.

It was sorcery so refined he had to use the word ‘beautiful.’

A student who made teaching worthwhile.

He’d wrung out nark while explaining sorcery and collapsed as if fainting, but Twella didn’t seem tired to that degree.

“Rest is important, you know.”

“I’ll rest when I need to. Right now both my stamina and mental strength are intact.”

There was nothing to criticize.

Her eyes were sharp and the nark was still whirling powerfully.

Al Terua yawned deeply.

“Now you’ve reached a level where I struggle to keep up with you. In just three days.”

“There’s still much to learn. To eliminate them without damage.”

Her eyes were becoming sharper by the day.

The woman who’d been depressed while beaten by students had disappeared. Before him stood an excellent warrior racing toward her goal.

A sorcery user born in three days.

It was unbelievable, but thanks to the special eyes Twella possessed, it made sense.

“Those eyes, do you keep seeing things?”

“It’s gotten a bit better. It’s not to the point where I can’t collect myself.”

“That’s fortunate at least.”

Eyes that saw the future.

Al Terua couldn’t know what Twella had seen. He’d asked indirectly, but she only closed her mouth with a rigid expression.

Probably not a pleasant ending.

Fate.

A fixed future cannot be changed.

This was an unwavering truth.

Nevertheless, Twella and Al Terua had to try.

“I’m going to try changing it.”

Twella spoke as if making a pledge.

“Even if the ending can’t be changed, the process can be altered little by little. I’ve already tried it. Very little by little, it can change.”

At Twella’s words, Al Terua nodded.

The ending cannot be changed.

But the process can be altered little by little.

Depending on where you place your perspective, the position of the ending would differ, but the process leading to the ‘ending’ Twella saw would be modified by humanity’s pitiful efforts.

“I don’t know what future awaits, but I’ll do my best to help.”

A woman loved by fate.

Supporting characters could only receive light by staying near the lead, so they had to circle around.

“Ascetic.”

“Mm?”

“Quilbion hasn’t given up on sorcery, has he?”

“Not yet.”

“As expected.”

“Did you see that too?”

Twella didn’t speak.

“I threw him an unsolvable challenge, so he’ll give up by tomorrow. That kid has too much pride to break a promise.”

“Yes, the promise will be kept.”

“Right? That worked out well.”

With those words, Twella smiled sadly.

“Quil will succeed.”

“What?”

“At sorcery. He’ll definitely succeed.”

“No way. I confirmed it with my own eyes until last night. The nark inside him couldn’t even stretch. If he keeps practicing he’ll get there eventually, but in one day…”

Twella turned her body. She spoke while stepping on the stream.

“Go quickly. Quil is waiting.”

Only Twella was beyond comprehension. Quilbion would be a child settled within the category of common sense, just with a bit of talent.

“Tell him everything. Just like you told me.”

“…Let’s go see first.”

Is this also something that was foreseen?

Then what did that sad face mean?

Al Terua walked while imagining what ending awaited.