I Am a Mage
“I’m here to register as a mage.”
“……”
People can't easily accept things that surpass their recognition. Everyone in the room froze, their thoughts grinding to a halt, as the man they’d pegged as a noble—and an insanely strong warrior—uttered something utterly absurd.
“……You’re here to apply for your child’s academy enrollment, right?”
Even rotten fish are still mackerel. One of the elite mages, second to none in skill if not in personality, snapped out of it and started rationalizing. Unlike the sneers of “warrior” behind his back, he was polite when it came to work.
“No.”
But the man in black armor, Kim Sung-tae, denied it flat-out.
“I am a mage. I heard you need a mage certification from here to become one.”
“Not your son or daughter…… but you?”
“I’m not ma…… I mean, I’m still single.”
“……”
The elite mages—and Ruben—went silent. The moment they grasped the situation, everyone burst into laughter except Ruben.
“Kuhahat! What’s this? You look like a warrior and you wanna register as a mage?”
“Wandering adventurer, huh? Mage registration. So that armor’s just for show?”
“Nah, he’s a warrior who wants to do magic too. Adventurers learn all sorts to survive, right? I’ve heard of warriors picking up spells.”
“Heh. Looks like a seriously strong warrior. Hold up—there’s magic on that armor? This is…… a perception interference spell.”
One elite mage spotted the magic on the armor. So many overlapping magic circles made it hard to pinpoint, but he barely made out the outermost one: the perception disruptor.
‘Gotta get him out before this blows up more.’
“Do you have ID?”
“Adventurer’s token work?”
End it quick before it got noisier. Ruben took Sung-tae’s proffered adventurer’s token.
And Ruben’s faint hope that he might be someone strong and skilled shattered at the sight of that tiny token.
“C-rank……?”
“C-rank?”
“For real?”
“Th-then, please follow me this way.”
Ruben grimaced but led Sung-tae to the testing area. The black armor wasn’t some reverse-isekai hero or tough adventurer—it was a special-rank bomb. Ruben hid his frown as best he could.
No bomb like this existed. Coming here for a mage cert was already elite-mage mockery bait, and a C-rank to boot?
“So how do you get the mage certification? First time.”
“Simple. Head to the testing room in back and show off a spell you can cast……”
“Hold on. What’re you saying? A mage cert isn’t that easy. The testing room’s not that way—it’s this way.”
‘Here we go again.’
The elite mages sidled up to Sung-tae like old pals and dragged the pair to the second floor.
Rare visitors like this. Even they eventually stopped coming for a reason.
‘They’re gonna pull that stunt again.’
Getting a mage cert was dead simple: show the receptionist or examiner a spell you could cast. Nail three basic ones, and you’re in.
That’s why elites despised it.
‘Hope he doesn’t get hurt.’
They’d prank such adventurers. A joke to them, life-or-death to the victim—but they’d always brush it off as “just kidding.”
Ruben wanted to stop it but couldn’t. These were elites—connected to the top, power players. Speaking up risked his own neck.
He’d never intervened before, and not today.
“Here’s the testing room.”
A vast chamber of solid walls, prison-like, split by iron bars. Beyond them, a white portal shimmered.
“That portal’s a pocket dimension for caging and summoning monsters. Full of ones our senior mages worked hard to capture.”
A portal for monster research. The elites grinned at it.
“The test isn’t killing monsters, is it?”
“Bingo! Smart one. Truly mage…… heh heh. Material.”
Open mockery. Ruben watched helplessly, cursing his powerlessness. All he could do was pray Sung-tae survived.
‘Please make it out okay.’
Monsters sealed in that portal weren’t your average goblins or trolls—ogres and up, all threats.
Controllable retrieval kept deaths at zero, but injuries overflowed. Some quit magic and adventuring from the trauma.
“Alright, step in.”
‘What monster first?’
‘That armor looks sturdy. Plus more magic on it.’
‘Okay, giant to start?’
The elites shuddered thinking of the green behemoth. Portal-bound now, summonable at will—but recalling their seniors’ capture ordeal made it untouchable.
‘Giant it is.’
Giants: half-again an ogre’s size, brute strength, magic-resistant skin shrugging spells like tickles. Monster of monsters. Even a real mage couldn’t win.
So they thought.
“Test starts now!”
The controlling mage activated the portal. White light flashed, and a massive arm emerged. Fresh outside air hit, and it bellowed.
GRRAAAAAHHH!!!
“Big guy.”
The full green giant burst out, one eye bulging, glaring murderously at Sung-tae. Portal boredom had it poisonously feral.
“Go on, take it down! Down it goes, you’re a mage! Note: no non-magic methods count……”
THWACK!!!
Watermelon-crush sound. Giant’s head vanished.
BOOM!!!
The hulking corpse crashed, shaking the building.
“……or whatever.”
No one saw it. What spell? Was it a spell?
Ruben, elites—nobody.
“What was that? What spell?”
Sung-tae coolly replied to the baffled crowd.
“Magic Missile.”
“Ma-Magic Missile?”
Elites couldn’t believe it. Magic Missile: bottom of the bottom-tier. Punch a plank at best. Trained to extreme, maybe useful—but not against giants.
“Liar!”
“Truth. Elites couldn’t even see it?”
“Tch. A-again!”
Giant corpse sucked back in. New monsters emerged.
Grrr.
Grraaak!
A goblin pack and three ogres. Not strong singly—overwhelm with numbers, expose tricks.
“Again!”
Elites strained eyes, missing nothing.
“Kee-yak!”
“Grraaak!”
Monsters charged. Watermelon crunches. Voices gone.
“Wh-what just……”
Headless bodies. Corpses toppled, blood fountains turning the room to a sea.
“What the hell!”
“Magic Missile, like I said?”
“No joke like……”
One mage lunged, grabbing Sung-tae’s shoulder. Frail mage grip did nothing.
“Doubting me?”
“No mana felt! No chant!”
“Hm. Chant for low-tier like Magic Missile? Barely any mana—must’ve missed it.”
Mage couldn’t argue. Logical. But that skill meant stronger than them, hiding mana flow like an archmage. Tough feat.
‘Wait, an auditor?’
Past antics made denial impossible. But this? No.
Stepping forward, Sung-tae beat him to it.
“That suspicious? Wanna take one?”
“Wh-what?”
“Magic Missile. Low-tier, right? Elites like you shrug it off, yeah? How ’bout it?”
“W-well, but……”
Mage stammered at the bloodbath. Headless goblins/ogres burned in his mind. Academy field trips were their last “real” combat—this was nightmare fuel. Imagined himself headless atop it.
“So? Just. Ma-gic. Mi-ssile.”
“H-heek!”
Elite recoiled in terror, legs jelly. Any second, Magic Missile’d blow his head off.
Desperate, another yelled:
“Test ain’t over! Need three-plus spells!”
“Yeah? Then……”
Sung-tae vanished.
Elites tracking him found him behind them. Freaked.
“Te-Teleport!?”
“That’s high-tier!?”
“Yup. Teleport.”
‘Just moved fast.’
Sung-tae smirked inwardly at their shock. Before coming, he’d asked Garba about spells she knew. She’d seen tons in battle, knew plenty.
“Lies! Lies!”
Portal-controlling elite denied it, mana surging. Fingertip mana primed to blast Sung-tae.
Fellows panicked, restraining him.
“No! Mid-control, other spells make portal mana runaway……”
BOOM!
Too late. Explosion. Portal swelled.
Monsters crawled out: goblins, ogres, giant, griffon, death worm.
Horribles they couldn’t handle.
“Heek!”
“Hm.”
Weaklings mixed in, but academy-limited elites quaked, spells forgotten.
“What’re you doing!”
Only Ruben, adventurer-born, resisted fear. He tried reaching the portal but monsters blocked.
Sung-tae, eyeing him, proposed to elites:
“Kill ’em all, you pass me no questions?”
Nods. No fight. Just pray monsters vanished.
Sung-tae grinned, stepping up.
“Shall I show more spells!”
Pondering Garba-taught implementations.
＊＊＊
Screee!
Goblins charged first. Emboldened by big baddies behind(?), weaklings rushed the black-armored human glaring ahead.
Keyeeek!
Weaponless from portal, they clawed with nails, teeth at armor gaps: joints, links, eye/breath holes.
“Where to start.”
Kim Sung-tae clapped hands like warming frozen palms on a cold day. Friction sparked flames, engulfing nearby goblins.
“Fireball!”
“Kieeeek!”
Flame-wrapped goblins screamed. Sung-tae grabbed one’s head—intense blaze reduced it to ash. Snake-tongue flames licked. His unique physical magic.
“How’s my Fireball?”
“Th-that’s not Fireball. You throw it at enemies……”
“Oh, right. Hold on.”
Grabbed a still-screaming goblin, balled it like a pitch, hurled at distant ogre.
“Grung?”
Ogre clutched gut pain, glanced down. Massive hole. Staggered, collapsed.
“This Fireball?”
“H-heek……”
“Kidding. Actually Fire Touch.”
Sung-tae tossed out lines casually. No rebuttals.
Finger pointed skyward, stabbed air.
“Finger…… no, Wind Cutter!!!”
Finger wind sliced, holing giant’s head.
Sung-tae thought: ‘Oops, too like Magic Missile. Wind Cutter should slice—this is just Missile.’
Glanced at mages. No one cared about such trivia(?). Elites prayed for quick cleanup; Ruben gaped at skill.
“Again. Wind Cutter!”
Palm out, raked air. Garba-mimicry, masterful.
Monsters in path shredded like grated meat, blood chunks vanishing.
Survivors got it, bolted for door.
Trembling elites collapsed.
“H-heek! Mercy!”
“Haa. Pathetic elites……”
Sung-tae snagged low-flying griffon ankle, slammed and stomped it.
“Gravity! Gravity magic!”
Plain slam, human-eye speed. Looked like griffon squashed flat by gravity to elites.
“Magic Missile barrage!”
Fists flew at remnants. Bodies balloon-popped, splattering nearby elites.
Mind-broken elites sat stunned.
Only Ruben mustered shaky legs, approached Sung-tae.
Not monster fear. Sung-tae terror.
‘Real magic? Or just insanely strong?’
Truth unknown. Mocked by elites, but duty as examiner demanded monster check.
“Uh, monsters remain.”
“Huh? Thought all dead.”
“Hole here.”
Ruben pointed big hole. Sung-tae figured his attack.
“Pierces to basement. Death worm from portal must’ve burrowed.”
“Ah, wormy one?”
Sung-tae recalled giant worm amid monsters. Desert dweller, whale-mouth shark-teeth predator.
“Fast in sand, but soil’s not soft—hasn’t gone far.”
“Right. Underground…… Hm. Local buildings quake-proof?”
“Quake-proof?”
“Earthquake, buildings hold?”
“Ah! Yes. All city buildings magicked for emergencies. Quake: float airborne. People inside too. Fire……”
Beeeep──
Noise. Water sprayed from ceiling/walls.
“……Like this.”
“Got it.”
Idea sparked. Sung-tae snapped fingers, hopped into hole. Flame from snap flickered out.
“My liege?”
Garba, waiting outside, queried sudden Sung-tae.
He brushed past, eyed ground, raised hand high.
“Behold!”
Physical magic fun. Craved bigger. Fugitive death worm + building wards = go time.
Palm skyward. Fist too pinpoint; palm even spread.
“Earthquake!”