Hidden Phase: Aisha Lailaris
Aisha Lailaris. The landlord of the one-room where I live.
Estimated age over 450—an old elf spinster who's lived solely for her work, only recently feeling the emptiness at her side and starting to seek a companion. But because of the notoriety her own kind created, no men will even give her the time of day, dooming her to a life of forced spinsterhood. A pitiable existence.
I'd helped her with her man-hunting for a bit by chance, but the results were dismal…
That day, Aisha's spirit had truly been broken.
Afterward, even when we'd run into each other occasionally, she stopped asking those questions meant to bolster her self-esteem like she used to, settling for plain greetings instead. But she couldn't hide the worry clouding her face.
'But seeing her working so steadily like this, it looks like she's overcome that wound from back then. Good job, Aisha.'
No, maybe she hasn't overcome it—maybe she's just given up on everything.
But isn't that what growing up is? Recognizing your limits against the wall of reality and compromising… That's the art of adult survival, right?
True recognition of harsh reality, the price of autonomy, acceptance of solitude, deepening values—only after experiencing all that can you call yourself a true adult.
Then I, who hasn't managed any of it, must definitely still be a total baby.
The reason I was spouting this nonsense in my head was because Aisha was standing right next to me without budging, for some reason.
“……”
“……”
'If I don't think random thoughts, I won't make it…'
Aisha stood silently beside me, lost in her own thoughts.
She already exuded this uneasy, standoffish aura that made it hard to approach—worried her identity might slip or something—and yet she wouldn't leave. Why?
It felt like she was waiting for me to speak first.
I was a bit nervous that talking might give away my voice… but this mask from Joodak had enchantments that hid the wearer's identity in every way possible.
Not just voice or scent, but even body shape—it blurred perception to some degree.
'Still, it's scaring the crap out of me like a dog…'
The mask wasn't omnipotent; someone who knew me well might pick up on my speech patterns or little habits.
…or so Joodak had said when handing it over.
But with only ten minutes left until the raid started, if the raid leader was sticking by my side, she must have business with me…
I couldn't ignore this.
“…Do you have something to say to me?”
I answered as curtly and authoritatively as possible, not even glancing her way like I had zero interest, projecting an air of boredom to play a character as far from my real self as possible.
At my question, she spoke as if she'd been waiting.
“If it's not too rude, ancient one, there's something I'd like to ask you. Might I receive your guidance on one question?”
Guidance? Was this sister mistaking my magic hierarchy for something elite like the other mages…?
With this turban making me look like some esteemed external advisor, did she think I was a big shot in the magic world?
One thing to note, though: from her perspective, I hardly qualified as an ancient one.
Was Aisha forgetting her own age?
She's from over 400 years ago herself…
Even if I were a real hermit, I'd probably be younger than her…
“…Speak.”
“If I may presume, external advisor, you seem to have reached a realm unbound by magic lineages. In that case, is there a way to transcend lineages and use another person's unique magic?”
“An intriguing topic.”
But.
I had no clue…
Honestly, I was lost the moment she asked. I'd only been learning magic for a few months, and Elise taught more practical stuff than theory, so I couldn't answer something like this.
But admitting ignorance wouldn't fit the character image I'd built.
Plus, I could feel the Magic Tower mages nearby perking up their ears, eavesdropping with keen interest in the topic.
…I'm getting attention.
So, time to think fast and give a plausible answer? Some vague, lofty nonsense shouldn't cause issues.
Unique magic… It's basically a mage's signature ultimate technique.
Common spells are mostly based on the four major elements—fire, water, earth, wind—that anyone encounters daily.
Those elements are etched into everyone's psyche to some degree, which is why shared spells like Fireball exist.
Unique magic, on the other hand, stems from a personal imagery that's rare in others…
Like Elise's celestial-based spells. That one where she merged two opposing celestial energies for a massive explosion at the raid's start? Impossible to copy.
I roughly understood the principle from the dungeon phenomenon, but recreating it was tough.
Thanks to the dungeon sync's cheat-level perception, I got the spell blueprint, but I lacked the materials to build it.
Anyway, using someone else's unique magic was impossible by my limited knowledge…
But Aisha wouldn't want some obvious answer.
“In conclusion, it's not impossible.”
Aisha's eyes widened at my response.
“…!! Then!! Could you possibly tell me the method!?”
“Overlay their imagery onto your own.”
“That can't be possible…”
“If you can layer a new one atop your own imagery, it works. With empathy and interpretation of the target's imagery backing it, you can perfectly superimpose another onto that space, enabling their unique magic. However, this technique risks mental corruption and personality collapse, so it fell out of practical use long ago.”
My fluent spiel had the watching mages gasping, connecting it to their own knowledge.
“Gasp…!! I've heard of that!! The court mage from the old kingdom, the dual-personality one, wielded two opposing lineages freely!! I thought it was just a unique imagery… but it was actually two layered imageries!!!”
“…Come to think of it, that war mage with split personality started using multiple lineages one day…”
“So you can hold multiple imageries in one body? Makes sense why it's unknown—mastering even one takes a lifetime, let alone refining it to the extreme.”
…Hearing them, I almost believed my own BS.
No, I can't go there.
It's like asking for another skill window—fat chance…
Anyway, whether my answer helped or not, Aisha bowed politely in thanks.
“…That was immensely helpful. Thank you.”
So why was Aisha curious about unique magic, anyway?
Eh, none of my business.
Unique magic, huh…
Truth is, I still don't know my own core imagery. The spells I use now just temporarily fix the ever-shifting chaos inside me.
No clear imagery has taken firm root in my psyche yet.
I had a vague feeling that when I finally forged my unique one, the dungeon would change again.
While answering Aisha's question, the Giant Slime's respawn time arrived, and the Magic Tower raid party kicked off.
But instead of a normal boss, as I'd prepped, a variant appeared—and the party buzzed with excitement at the long-awaited moment.
“Th-that's!! A variant!!! Professor Aisha, it's a variant!!!”
“Ooh, finally!!!”
“Everyone, to positions. End it with the first spell as planned.”
End it with the first spell?
What the…
'With 300 mages, one-turn kill is doable, huh?'
Seemed like a one-shot was the Magic Tower party's Giant Slime strategy.
But could they pull it off on a variant? Variants were way bigger than normal Giant Slimes.
Plus, it cleverly hid its core underground, surviving even Elise's spell before…
But my worries were unfounded—the slime's core couldn't burrow.
The mages had pre-hardened the ground, so its tentacles couldn't pierce the solid earth easily.
“Preparations complete!”
“Fire.”
At Aisha's flat, emotionless command, a massive magic circle glowed, launching a condensed fireball—like a mini sun—straight at the Giant Slime variant.
I analyzed the conscious magic via dungeon sync senses.
'A spell synced through the circle, harmonizing their imageries…'
Hundreds of mages amped a basic Fireball anyone could cast to extremes.
Fwoosh—
The sun-like fireball slammed into the Giant Slime, burning through its surface and burrowing toward the core.
It exploded inside, erupting a massive flame pillar.
BOOM—!!!
The mages, seeing the variant wasn't special, acted like the raid was already over…
'Hm, core's still alive, though.'
As I'd figured, the variant survived.
Where the pillar faded, less than 3 meters of jelly shielded a huge core.
“Wh-what, it survived that?”
“But over 90% of the jelly's gone—one more and it's done.”
At that size, it couldn't evolve to phase 2 variant or do phase 3's massive body attacks.
The strategy was basically over.
“Everyone, clean up the scraps quickly.”
Aisha noticed too, ordering the final blow.
Numerous mages unleashed spells for the kill shot.
BOOM—!!
But the impact point was empty.
The sub-3m Giant Slime variant had reached the shieldbearers before the spells hit.
“Huh?”
KABOOM—!!
The shieldbearers, chatting in formation thinking it was an easy clear, flew skyward.
“Gaaahhh!!!” “Keurghhh!!!”
It evoked an Armor Slime charge in destructive power… but the speed outpaced any slime I'd seen.
In a blink, the red slime was at the formation's center.
The mages froze solid.
Considering the instantaneous acceleration it'd just shown, anyone moving first would be the prime target—blown to bits.
No one budged.
In that tense space, only I leisurely rested my chin, watching.
This… if we're nitpicking… phase 4?
No raid had ever burned off that much jelly before—no one even knew this form existed.
Usually, by phase 3, they targeted the core instead of whittling jelly.
No normal party had the firepower to melt thousands of tons anyway, so phase 4 was basically a hidden phase.
'No top-tier warriors here to block that—wonder how they'll handle it?'
Phase 4 showed the devastation when a core that moved dozens-of-meters bodies now piloted a sub-3m one.