Chapter 115
Chapter 115
Academy’s Gumiho is a Magic Genius – Chapter 115
Ideally, I wanted to resolve this through conversation.
Not out of any sympathy for her, but because I could no longer predict what other variables might crop up in this place, and I wanted to conserve my strength.
But this wretch showed no intention of cooperating with me.
Pff!
A needle forged from flames burrowed into her flesh, stimulating her yokai mana.
"K-Kyaaaaah!!"
She screamed, but the sound echoed only within this cavern.
It wouldn't escape outside.
A truly hollow cry.
No one to answer it.
Finally, the torture must have become unbearable, because she desperately signaled her willingness to cooperate.
"I-I'll... h-help... Do what... you... say..."
"No need."
I didn't require her help anymore.
From her perspective, she probably thought I was tormenting her with needles and thorns made of fire, but in reality, it was reconnaissance.
I was gauging her reactions, the depth of mana connected to the fiery thorns, her nerves, and responses.
Because when someone turns into a demon, their internal organs can sometimes change.
Oh ho, how do you know that?
'What, about the organs?'
Yeah, that. You couldn't figure it out through normal means.
'You already know there's only one way, yet you ask. Of course I dissected them to find out.'
Before possession, in the days battling the hordes of demons who betrayed humanity, I suddenly realized something. To deal with them efficiently, I needed to understand demons.
So I captured a few, killed them, and dissected them.
After repeating that experience countless timesand eventually slaying every demon out thereI could analyze an individual's condition just by pricking them with thorns a few times.
"Don't worry."
I imprinted my mana and spells onto the demon.
A simple [telekinesis] forming the core of . I infused the thorns with mana and magic, hijacking her yokai nerves and muscles, turning her into a puppet that would move for me.
She wouldn't even be able to speak properly now.
Well, for a demon caught before she could massacre a bunch of people, it might seem harsh.
But before I conquer the back world and escape, I'll make sure to kill you and end your suffering.
Just hold on a little longer.
Her hollow cries echoed through the underground cavern, but no response came.
She probably couldn't hear me.
Well, what mattered was her abilities.
It didn't make much difference.
[One of the 'singularities' in the Twisted Back World has been perfectly eliminated.]
[Remaining singularities: 1/5]
[By eliminating this singularity, you have taken one step closer to the Back World's conclusion.]
[Progress: 9.3%]
See that?
I was heading in the right direction.
* * *
I'd tied the demon up in the cavern beneath the grave and was taking a short break.
My mind felt hazy.
Was the fatigue building up lately?
I tried circulating my mana to clear my head, but before I knew it, my body was sinking into the deep ocean.
I floated there, drifting downward, staring blankly.
"Not a bad book. The overall motif is based on us, right?"
"Yeah, pretty good, huh?"
As I watched, a wave of nostalgia washed over me.
Something felt off, and as my senses slowly returned, I realized I was watching myself.
"I...!"
My mouth moved awkwardly.
Muscles clearly under my control, yet...
I couldn't make out the words.
Couldn't hear them, couldn't think them.
Just like most dreams.
"Puhaha! You serious? You think your has ? For real?"
"Yeah, that's what I'm . Pretty good, right?"
"Haha... Yeah. sounds fine. I'll that."
Words I couldn't fully hear.
The conversation cut off midway, awkwardly suspended, and my consciousness began rising toward realitylike floating up from the deep sea to the surface. The moment I looked down on the whole scene from above...
Instinctively, I reached out toward the shattering dream.
Something.
Something I mustn't forget.
A story I absolutely couldn't let slip away, locked inside. Just a feeling, nothing more.
But if it was the instinct of a Sword Saint, that changed everything.
* * *
The world spun dizzily for a moment.
Even though I'd only closed and opened my eyes briefly, it felt like I'd taken an uncomfortable nap.
"No way... Did I fall asleep again?"
No one was around the gravesite, and nothing had changed much.
In a situation where I couldn't guess how much time had passed, Tamamo answered.
Sleep, huh. It's ambiguous to call it that. You only collapsed for about 2 or 3 minutes.
"...Narcolepsy?"
Narcolepsy, the condition where you fall asleep involuntarily.
I suspected it for a second, but considering my average sleep, the odds were slim.
You haven't slept once in the weeks we've been together. What sleep schedule? Even I, long dead, have slept more than you.
"I got a little last night."
Barely under 3 hours?
"That's plenty for me."
One to two hours per month.
That was my optimal sleep time.
But Tamamo didn't seem to think so.
For real? Not a day, but two hours a month is enough?
"Not quite. I do feel the fatigue."
Superhumans with mana shrug off a night or two without sleep.
Of course, even superhumans die without enough sleep, but with my vast mana reserves, I could substitute circulation for recovery.
But it was only a substitute, so I needed at least an hour or two of actual sleep per month.
And that time was...
'When our unitand the entire armyheld our breath in tension.'
Back in the war, I was beyond a living siege enginea nuclear warhead.
Victory followed wherever I swept through, and high-rank demons with intelligence actively avoided battlefields where I was.
The ability to support multiple fronts alone.
Because of that, those few hours when I was defenseless were the worst for our allies.
In fact, that's when demon hordes struck the outskirts, causing hundreds of thousands of casualties in a single day.
Those habits ingrained from those days meant I still never slept more than two hours a month.
Yet even after three hours the previous night, I'd collapsed again.
"...My body's in worse shape than before."
Maybe my stamina wasn't what it used to be.
A reasonable suspicion, I thought.
Does it make sense for a person to skip sleep like that?
"You heard earlier. Once a month..."
I know, one to two hours.
"Good ears. So what's the issue?"
I'm wondering why you do it. Is there a reason you have to?
A sharp question.
To answer meant revealing pre-possession events, but dodging could make her suspicious of my secrecy on little things.
I'd already given her one reason to suspect me.
I had no choice but to speak.
'The Nine-Tails really is different.'
I didn't know if she'd engineered this, but if so, it was fitting for the progenitor of all foxes.
"..."
What, can't answer again?
"No, it's just too obvious a question."
I casually donned my 'mask.'
The mask of someone skipping sleep to study and master magic.
Luckily, my habit of reading grimoires at dawn and trial-and-error in the training room fit perfectly.
"I hate wasting nights on sleep."
So, why?
"I want to fully internalize magic and shamanism, reach higher realms. You created a whole system, so you get it. Dawn's the best time to study."
No human noise at dawnperfect for focus.
She nodded in agreement.
But one question lingered.
Fine, dawn for shamanism compiling makes sense. But why not during the day? Skipping nights must tire you out.
She agreed, yet the doubt persisted.
Any living person needs sleep for physical and mental recovery. Even if dawn's ideal, why not split it during the day?
That's what she was saying.
'...No good comeback for this.'
I could answer, but it'd be an excuse, and she'd see right through it.
Make a lame excuse? Stay silent?
I had to choose.
"...et a contract."
Hm? What'd you say? Couldn't hear."
"Let's make a contract."
Not the subservience via ring.
Not the promise of one spell per day for a month.
Something entirely new.
"How about a strictly horizontal contract? No master-servant, mentor-disciple, or lord-vassal hierarchy."
Hehe, we already agreed to answer questions and pay accordingly. Isn't that horizontal enough?
"That's just a verbal pact, not bound by oath."
Then... anything specific you want?
What I wanted?
Of course.
I extended my left ring finger toward her.
"The 'Ring-and-Heart Contract.' Perfect for us, don't you think?"
!!!
"Existed since antiquity, so you know it. If that's not enough, we can add a mana vow."
You... You know what that contract means, right?
Tamamo's shocked expression carried a meaningful tone.
As if asking if someone like me could handle it.
"The left ring finger symbolizes proximity to the heart in shamanism. Thus, the 'Ring-and-Heart Contract'..."
Cuts off the ring finger of the oath-breaker, stops the heart. An absolute contract you can't betray, often used for major deals. How'd you know without me teaching you?
"Nothing beats a binding contract for ease of use."
Such an unromantic reason.
Originally, it was created by a couple whose love couldn't be contained by mere vows of eternal union.
The intent was to pledge everlasting love, but its power exceeded expectations, appearing in scams even before shamanism faded a millennium ago.
And it works on souls alone.
Even if revived as undead, as long as the subject 'lives,' it compels fulfillmentterrifying stuff.
And on using this spell...
Fine. Let's do it.
She agreed.
She even seemed pleased.
Without a word, we linked our ring fingers with red thread. Not the red thread of fate, but of the heart.
"I seek an eternal companion and guiding mentor."
I seek a bard to sate my curiosity and greed.
Our desires were clear.
I wanted her shamanic knowledge.
She wanted my stories.
We crafted the contract on that basis.
"If my companion seeks to quench curiosity, I shall speak only truth without deceit."
In return, I shall claim the role of mentor. Conversely, if the bard demands teachings, I shall impart all millennium's knowledge without hesitation.
In a way, we bound each other.
Smoothly, my left ring finger crossed hers.
White energy flickered from our fingers.
True origin energy, directly linked to our souls.
Our energies served as seals, making the contract inviolable.
I, progenitor of shamanism, Tamamo with a hundred names and identities including Nojo, guarantee this contract eternally.
The final step.
Utter our symbolic identities and names to complete the 'Ring-and-Heart Contract' shamanically.
My turn came, and my mind blanked.
"..."
What identity to claim?
My name is Baek Seung-woo.
Always has been.
Face and build identical. But without the allies and achievements proving my status, it was absent here.
My soul was a certain swordsman's, but in this world, a foul-tempered wastrel family head and mage.
So, what should I claim?
Wastrel Baek Seung-woo?
107th Head of Heavenly Fox Baek Family, Baek Seung-woo?
Disciple of the [Demon King], Baek Seung-woo?
Or Nine-Tail Guild's detachment leader, Baek Seung-woo?
...Hurry up.
As I hesitated, Tamamo urged softly.
Fine, no point hiding now.
We were bound by fate.
"I am... successor to 'Yama' and student of the 'Holy Mother'..."
I glanced at Tamamo; she looked stunned by the unexpected claim. Well, yeah.
In contracts, the uttered identity is a short phrase defining one's life. For her, 'shamanism progenitor' and 'hundred faces and names.'
Usually, no borrowed names or titles. But those two defined my life.
Without them, no reason to be here.
No desperate survival till now.
"As Sword Saint Baek Seung-woo, I pledge with ring finger and heart to uphold this contract eternally."
Saint of the sword.
Star Swordmy moniker and label.
Hearing that, a smile curved Tamamo's lips.
She openly showed her delight at the contract's fun prospects. Yeah, I'm glad to contract with you too, fox.
Sarcasm, of course.