A Path of Steel
Yen also agreed with Muzark's opinion that he needed a new magic spell. Fitting her position as both a magic fanatic and his teacher, she added a detailed explanation.
“You could call this your first turning point as a mage.”
"A turning point?"
“Now that you've shed your rookie title, it's time to take a step forward.”
He was no longer a rookie.
Muzark felt a surge of emotion at her casual assessment. Although his ascent to Orangeline had already proven as much, hearing it directly from Yen made it feel truly real.
“Up until now, you've just learned magic whenever the opportunity arose. Honestly, learning Chain was half an accident, and Shield was a spell you had to learn anyway. But now, it's a matter of attitude.”
Yen made it clear that he couldn't keep going on like that.
“You need to define your purpose.”
What did he want to achieve by learning magic?
“Some want to rise through the ranks as a mage, some want revenge on their enemies, and others study magic simply for the sake of the academic pursuit itself. What about you?”
"For now, I just want to climb to the upper regions."
He wanted to fulfill the wish of Yen, who could no longer do anything on her own. Knowing Muzark's true feelings, Yen tried her best to suppress the swelling emotion in her chest.
“...Ahem. Well, by classification, that's closest to rising through the ranks.”
"I suppose so."
“Now, you have to think about how you're going to do it.”
How could he rise to the top as a mage?
“Realistically, there are two paths. First, publish academic papers to gain recognition in the magic community. Second, build up a record through real combat, like an investigator.”
The pen or the sword.
“To be honest, I think the former is overwhelmingly easier.”
"Really?"
“Even if a discovery is completely useless, as long as it's groundbreaking, it often receives official recognition. If you make a truly massive contribution, you can even get an unprecedented promotion.”
In extreme cases, some had jumped from Mid-Tier Rank 4 straight to High-Tier Rank 3. One such mage had skipped Greenline entirely, moving straight from Yellowline to Blueline.
“Of course, academia and real combat aren't completely separate. A mage who succeeds as a researcher can still use lethal magic, and vice versa. My point is...”
"You're telling me to choose a specialization."
“You catch on quick. Though it seems your mind is already made up.”
There was no need to even think about it.
"It's combat, without a doubt."
Had he not experienced that terror incident, his answer might have been different. As Baek Si-woo, an ordinary office worker, a research lab would have been far more comfortable than a battlefield where lives were on the line.
But not anymore.
"Even if I succeed as a scholar, it's the same. In the end, this world runs on the law of the jungle. If I stick my head out without any real power, I'll just get beaten down. I need to build up enough strength to hit back twice as hard."
The words stung Yen's ears. No matter how tightly one locked the lab doors and shut the windows, one could never truly be free from external pressure.
“Then let's break down combat even further. There are various fields like scouting or intelligence, but you'd prefer direct combat, wouldn't you? Specifically, you could say you specialize in close-quarters combat.”
It was a guiding question, prompting Muzark to objectively assess himself as a mage. He needed to establish his style based on his accumulated experience and find a path for growth.
“I'll tell you right now, though—body reinforcement magic is out of the question.”
"Why? I thought that was what I needed most."
“Because your magic already covers that domain.”
Cryptofetica.
“Breaking a person's bones with an untrained body is no easy feat. If you really wanted to, you could smash a stone wall with your bare fists, couldn't you?”
Muzark nodded, having felt this truth all along. Though he was slowly putting on some weight, his frame was still slender rather than muscular, yet he had never once felt weak.
“Normally, reinforcement magic is difficult to control. If you haven't had any issues, it means either your instincts are naturally gifted, or the magic itself is absurdly complete. Don't even dream of stacking another reinforcement spell on top of it.”
Muzark imagined his limbs exploding from over-reinforcement. It was a gruesome thought, enough to make him abandon any foolish greed.
That was an area he had to resolve through mastering Cryptofetica and physical conditioning.
"Then what about developing a ranged attack, like Bullet?"
“That's good. I also think a sensory assistance spell like Vision would be useful.”
If he had been able to see through the smoke, his fight with the bomber would have been much easier. He needed to identify his shortcomings one by one and address them.
Even if I don't learn them all, I should acquire a broad knowledge of different spells.
He needed to build up his knowledge so he could react quickly when facing unfamiliar magic. He couldn't survive forever by relying on crude, improvised brawling.
There's so much to learn.
Yet, surprisingly, he didn't just feel overwhelmed by the sheer scale of it.
The joy of learning and the anticipation of growth were beginning to bud within him.
I have to admit it.
Muzark was becoming fascinated by magic.
His life in Eastorange was now entering its second week.
Even though he hadn't officially started his duties as an assistant investigator yet, his days were packed. It wasn't just magic; he had a mountain of administrative tasks to sort out, like visiting government offices to register his transfer.
"You're practicing Vision magic?"
"I still have a long way to go."
"Of course. It's only been a few days."
Aiden nodded, looking thoroughly pleased. While a certain someone could think of nothing but skipping lessons, this unpolished gem he had picked up was growing splendidly all on his own.
"Don't rush too much. Learning a new spell has its own kind of fun. If you drag it out too long, it becomes like flavorless gum, but you've only just popped it into your mouth, haven't you?"
"I know. I'm not in any particular rush when it comes to magic."
"Is there a problem in some other area?"
As they spoke, Aiden handed Muzark a portable terminal. It was a communication device he would use for both work and personal matters. Aiden tilted his head, noticing how strangely natural Muzark's movements were as he caught and held it.
"You seem rather familiar with that."
"No, it's my first time. It just fits perfectly in my hand."
"Hmm. I did hear it was designed with ergonomics in mind."
"I like it a lot. Thank you, I'll make good use of it."
Holding something so similar to a smartphone filled Muzark with an indescribable sense of satisfaction. Beyond its practical functions, there was something psychologically comforting about it.
"Anyway, it's not exactly a major problem right now."
"Let's hear it anyway."
"Yen mentioned that my style is a bit unusual."
True to her background as a researcher-turned-mage, Yen specialized in mid-to-long-range combat. It was the most typical style. In contrast, a mage like Muzark who engaged in physical brawls was exceedingly rare.
"She said she can teach me magic, but I have to figure out the physical techniques on my own. Since there's only so much I can do by myself, I'm struggling with how and what to train."
"Indeed. I understand. Back in Redline, you were desperate just to survive day by day, but now you have some breathing room. It's only natural that you have more on your mind."
It was a necessary concern.
Unless one was a rare genius, it was impossible to master everything through real combat alone. Technical improvement, in particular, always stemmed from deep reflection.
"I'm afraid I can't offer much direct help either."
Aiden was also a mage more akin to Yen than Muzark. He had no idea how to run fast or punch people hard. In fact, that was true for the vast majority of mages.
"However, as your sponsor, it is only right that I point you in the correct direction."
"Pardon?"
"I was actually thinking of assigning you some work soon, so this timing is perfect."
Aiden said, climbing into the car first.
"Get in. I'll introduce you to someone."
The car wound its way into increasingly dark and narrow alleyways.
It was a slum where the lower class of Eastorange resided. If one were to rank neighborhoods by the residents' standard of living, this place sat right on the boundary between Redline and Orangeline.
“There's an anthill in every city, isn't there? How exhausting.”
Yen didn't possess a shred of nostalgia for her hometown. What was there to miss about a life of poverty and terrible neighbors? If she missed anything at all, it was only the starry night sky that had first inspired her to dream of magic.
Muzark absentmindedly tapped Yen's forehead with his finger.
"The atmosphere might seem gloomy, but it's not dangerous."
"I suppose so. Most of them are probably non-mages."
"You know your stuff. Logically, it's hard for them to pose any threat to a mage."
Even if there were mages here, they wouldn't be highly skilled. Any powerful mage would have already found success in the light. Even criminals weren't foolish enough to attack an investigator's vehicle in broad daylight.
"But there are always exceptions."
Emerging from the alley, a shabby three-story brick building came into view. Announcing their arrival, Aiden parked the car in a suitable spot and led the way toward the building.
"Regardless of whether they are good citizens or criminals, there are those who were never accepted into mage society from the very beginning. If they aren't recognized as mages, then even their skills..."
Crash!
As they drew closer, the sounds of a commotion reached them.
"Catch him, you idiots!"
"Break his arms and legs first!"
Shouts echoed all the way outside, accompanied by the sound of shattering glass. Through the broken window frame, agitated faces could be seen. Several of them held wooden clubs or iron pipes.
"What's going on?"
"Just a common occurrence. I heard a small-scale loan shark business got pushed down to the slums; they must have moved into this area. Talk about bad luck—they really picked the wrong place."
Even in the face of this sudden brawl, Aiden remained as calm as ever.
"On the bright side, you're in luck."
"What does this situation have to do with my luck?"
"Because now you won't have to get beaten up just as a test."
Leaving Muzark with those cryptic words, Aiden strode forward. Muzark let out a sigh but didn't hesitate to follow. As Aiden threw the door wide open, the scene inside was revealed.
Bloodstains were splattered here and there, and burly men lay sprawled across the floor. All sorts of clutter, from water bottles to magazines, rolled around like trash, likely knocked down during the fight.
Only five people were still standing in the chaos. Four men dressed in crisp dress shirts were ganging up on a young man who stood out in a simple short-sleeved T-shirt.
"Who the hell are these guys?!"
One of the men in dress shirts barked, glaring at the intruders. While everyone's attention shifted to the entrance, Muzark noticed one of the man's companions stealthily pointing a finger at the young man.
A mage?
Just as he sensed an impending disaster—
Slash!
The mage's index finger was severed in a single clean stroke.
"Aaaaargh!"
As the nameless mage clutched his hand and screamed, Muzark could hardly believe his eyes. While the young man's closing speed had been explosive, the motion of his swing was as smooth as flowing water.
Wait. Is that even a sword?
The short-sleeved youth had merely swung his bare arm. His right arm, which had somehow transformed into a razor-sharp blade. The hardened, angular skin resembling a sword's edge was deeply grotesque.
"Hard at work since broad daylight, I see, Yirang."
"...Sir. I was actually debating whether I should contact you."
Yirang bowed his head politely to Aiden.
"Um, do you understand the situation?"
"More or less. Just don't kill them."
Once permission was granted, Yirang let out a sigh of relief.
"I will try my best to be careful."
What followed was a display of absolute dominance.
Surprisingly, two of the four opponents Yirang faced were mages. Their tactics—using the non-mages as shields while aiming for openings with Bullet and summoning stone spikes from the ground—were quite threatening.
Yet, they were no match for him.
As if reading their very breath, Yirang slipped out of the trajectory of their fingers just before they could fire a Bullet. He lunged forward a step faster than the spikes could fully form, his movements both agile and highly intelligent.
"What kind of magic is that?"
At Muzark's muttered question as he watched the fight, Aiden let out a soft chuckle.
"Yirang is a non-mage."
"...But look at his arm."
"It's the result of a demon contract. And not even with a high-ranking demon, at that. He merely obtained the ability to transform his right arm and a tiny sliver of mana."
A clean strike sliced right through a Shield. While it couldn't nullify the magic itself like Cryptofetica, the concentrated force was more than enough to pierce through.
The "technique" Muzark had been searching for was right before his eyes.
“His skill is certainly hard to believe for a non-mage.”
Muzark knew that if he fought him right now, he would lose without a doubt. Even their matchup was terrible. Would Cryptofetica even work against a youth who wasn't even a mage?
“But don't you dare feel envious of him.”
At the same time, Yen thought:
“Because you will become incomparably stronger than that.”
Once Muzark learned to move just as "well" as him...
At that point, even the bomber wouldn't stand a chance.