In the Name of the Mage of Ruin
Lagmal Urgaz.
A man renowned as the current Marquis of Urgaz. The very architect of victory in the War of Blood was kneeling before my eyes.
He had been waiting for a mage?
The strange words made no sense at first. Waiting for a mage—did that mean he had been waiting for me? That would mean he had known from the start that I was a mage.
A dozen thoughts flashed through my mind. Then I looked at his manner and understood.
It isn't me he was waiting for.
What this man had been waiting for was a mage sent from Urdra—not me. From the look of him, he did not even know my face. Fair enough. Why would a highborn noble bother to learn the face of someone he meant to have killed? His underlings would handle it and report back in due course.
Seranea was right.
They had panicked at the thought of a quarrel between mages and acted first—even if that action had taken the extreme form of a War of Blood. And right now, he believed I was the mage Urdra had sent. The only mage who could have appeared before them would have been from Urdra, after all.
In other words, the fact that I was a mage was still unknown. The same went for Seranea. She had not shown herself yet, which, if anything, worked in our favor.
I should use this.
The moment I decided, I left the kneeling man where he was and crossed the room. With every scrap of arrogance I could muster, I dropped onto the sofa and crossed my legs.
"You were waiting for me. Explain what that means."
I could feel Seranea, still invisible, covering her mouth and fighting not to laugh. Maybe it was because I had never lived a life anywhere near arrogance, but the whole act felt stiff and cumbersome. Arrogance, it seemed, was something you had to be born with.
"Yes. We recently learned that there had been a dispute within the School of Fire, and that as a result you intended to erase a certain mage from within your ranks."
Remarkably, Lagmal spun on his knees without rising and bowed his head toward me.
"And so, daring as it may be, we took it upon ourselves to spare you mages even a little trouble by removing the Silent Blood of House Fraise first."
He said it as if it were nothing—that they had wiped out Silent Blood just like themselves. It made painfully clear how vast a mage's presence loomed in their world.
I looked down at him and deliberately let the silence stretch. The one who was anxious was Lagmal. The anxious one always spoke first.
"O-of course, one of them has yet to be removed. We will find and eliminate her at once. If you would only grant us a little more time, we would be most grateful."
That one would be Seranea. In effect, aside from her, House Fraise was gone.
"And so?"
Even under Lagmal's pleading manner, I did not soften. A report like that was never going to win my goodwill.
"Why are you deciding my will for me?"
My voice came out sharper. The tone carried a clear meaning: how dare the likes of you presume to judge my intent.
Lagmal flinched and bowed even lower. Cold sweat beaded on his brow. Just what kind of beings were mages to people like him? Fear of mages radiated from every inch of his body.
"I-I am sorry. As you say, we acted on our own judgment."
Without a shred of resistance, Lagmal affirmed every word I spoke. His obedience was excessive.
"Bring it."
"Y-yes?"
"If you handled it, there will be a ledger. Bring it. And include the bloodline you say is still left."
The instant the order fell, Lagmal sprang up and ran. He returned in short order with the ledger arranged and presented it before me.
"Here it is."
Still on his knees, he offered the ledger up. Every motion of his was fear dressed as reverence.
I ignored that and first checked the information related to Seranea. Entries on me and Wolfgar were written there as well. Those Shadow types were more capable than I had expected.
No further report on Wolfgar yet, though.
Had he not been kidnapped after all? Lagmal had been watching this matter alone; any report should have come up at once. The complete absence of one was strange.
Then where is Wolfgar now?
My head grew crowded, but if he was somewhere else, I would simply have to go find him. Something might have gone wrong at the Monster Front. I would start the search there again.
Next I examined the ledger concerning the Fraise marquisate. The names of the eliminated members of House Fraise filled it end to end. Every last one of them dead—save a single person. Countless lives reduced to entries in a single book. And still the ledger felt impossibly light.
I went through the names one by one. Personal details were listed beside them, ages included. The youngest: two years old. An age that knew nothing of the world, only just beginning to grow. Even a child that young had been put to death—solely so that these people could survive.
"A two-year-old child died."
Not only the two-year-old. Above that entry were children not yet ten, and the elderly as well. People of every age had been killed.
"Yes. We eliminated them thoroughly."
Lagmal answered without concealment, without the faintest guilt. There was only a single obedient dog kneeling there.
I see. So that was it.
I set my hand on the loyal dog's head. This was not a person. Not by any measure. It was a beast wearing human skin. And a beast, for the sake of its own ends, will sink its teeth into anyone.
A monster like that could not be left alive in this world. It could not be allowed to sink its teeth into someone else and make more victims.
So I seized the pure white flame blooming from the monster—and forced it out.
Instant Death Magic.
Thud—
Lagmal's body collapsed to the floor. The faithful dog would never even know why it had died. A death no one could have predicted. That death took Lagmal's life.
"Haren!"
Beside me, Seranea appeared. Startled, she checked Lagmal's condition, then realized his breathing had truly stopped and went blank. But it was not the face of someone in shock.
"…I had a feeling it might end like this."
Seranea had watched me long enough in her own way. She knew better than anyone what kind of person I could never forgive. Beasts in human skin. The monsters that gnawed at this world.
"What will you do now?"
The head of the Fraise marquisate was dead. Chaos was inevitable. If we simply vanished from here, the fallout could land on the wrong people. But if I revealed myself openly, I would almost certainly become a target—and I could not risk that if I meant to protect Seranea and Sernida from the School of Fire.
So after thinking it through, I reached a conclusion.
"Seranea."
"Yes?"
"I need to call Sernida."
She caught my meaning at once and nodded.
"What should I do?"
"I'm going to put you under for a bit. You'll wake soon enough, so don't worry."
I laid Seranea on the sofa and stirred my mana, then touched hers and tapped at her interior. It was a technique I had more or less learned from connecting with her mana before. A moment later, Seranea's consciousness slipped away to the far side. In the open eyes that remained, a different light began to turn.
"So now you've even learned how to wake me whenever you please."
"The situation was urgent. I had to. First things first, Sernida—Seranea knows about you now."
"Hmph."
Sernida's reaction was lukewarm even to that. As if this had been bound to happen before long. Now that Seranea had drawn closer to being a mage, it was only natural.
"So?"
"What I need to ask is about my master. How many people in the school know of him?"
"The Mage of Ruin? At least ten, easily. The elders especially—they couldn't forget that man if they tried."
More than I had expected. That was enough.
"Thanks. That's plenty."
"Plenty? What exactly are you planning to do?"
Sernida looked at me with something like worry in her eyes. As if she already knew what kind of stunts I pulled.
"You always do something reckless."
"I'm just going to put on a little act."
As I said it, I showed her Lagmal's corpse. At first Sernida did not seem to recognize him. Then she took in the room and let out a breathless sound of disbelief.
"That man is the Marquis of Urgaz?"
"He is."
"Honestly. You really do know how to make a mess. Don't tell me you mean to impersonate Zorbanof?"
"That's right."
As a disciple, I would borrow my master's name for a while. I could pay the debt later.
"Have you lost your mind?"
And with that, Sernida produced the most incredulous reaction of the day.
"Do you have any idea how many people hold a grudge against that mage? Of course, holding a grudge doesn't mean they can actually settle it—but the school is going to be turned upside down."
Just what kind of mage was my master, exactly? But the more she said, the clearer the value of his name became.
"That's what I'm counting on."
I had made up my mind the moment I saw Lagmal today.
"The School of Fire and the School of Thunder in Grandheim. I'm going to break them both."
A marquis of Urgaz who, terrified of what a mage might decide, had slaughtered hundreds. Men like him existed because of the magic schools. Until the cause was removed, more of them would keep appearing, and the same wrong results would keep repeating.
I did not want that world. My justice would not tolerate it. Great wars waged for the greed of mage schools. Countless lives sacrificed for their profit. I could not stand by and watch it any longer.
"What are you saying…"
Sernida stared at me, speechless. Fair enough—I had just announced I would smash the school she had spent her whole life in. But my resolve did not change.
"Do you think a school is some stray dog's name? The mages in it could burn the likes of you to ash with a flick of the hand."
"I know."
I was still a long way from being a true mage. A mere apprentice had no business fighting a wall as vast as a magic school.
"But the same is true of me."
They did not know. That even their lives would go out the moment they entered my grasp. Just as I would burn in an instant before them, their life force would gutter out in my hand.
Instant Death Magic. The mighty hand I held—and the magic that would change this world.
"The Mage of Ruin, Zorbanof."
I took Leksan from Sernida and clenched the skull tight.
"Under my master's name, starting today, I will set right what has gone wrong once more."
A disciple would carry on his master's will.