Chapter 33
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: One-Eyed Village (5)
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It had been less than a year since I'd ascended to the 5th tier.
Even judging solely by my attack magic proficiency, it was still at a 4th tier level. That was because I hadn't done any training at all after reaching the 5th tier.
Just ascending tiers without any of that tier-raising training?
In truth, I'd felt something similar when I first reached the 5th tier, but back when I was stuck at the 4th tier, there had been times when I diligently trained while focusing on it, so I figured it might have had some effect.
But ever since ascending to the 5th tier, I hadn't done any real training.
So how could I not sense something was off?
At that moment.
A doubt that had only fleetingly crossed my mind in the past reared its head again.
The thought that tiers might not be all that important after all.
That very suspicion meshed with some inexplicable current...
In an instant, a weighty realization rocked my mind.
My consciousness wavered, and a vivid thought from an unknown source crashed over me.
I've had the system all wrong...
The way magic tiers are divided.
It wasn't the central framework.
Rather, it was merely a side branch. Magic tiers were just secondary elements that rose in chain reaction.
The true center lay elsewhere. That was the real tier.
Just as side branches follow suit when the core ascends, the magic system we use is nothing but a byproduct of that boon.
When your magic tier rises, your spells grow more powerful.
When your core tier rises, your traits themselves evolve.
Which means all this time... I hadn't been raising my magic tier at all. I'd been raising my core tier.
And the magic tier had simply tagged along as a side effect.
So what exactly is this core tier?
I couldn't grasp that far yet.
Thump.
Thump.
"...Huh?"
How long had I been spaced out?
It felt like I'd been standing lost in a daydream, suspended in mid-air for ages.
A strange sensation, as if I'd glimpsed a crevice hidden behind some vast curtain.
Thump.
"Ah."
Come to think of it, the reason I'd snapped back to reality was the sound of something thudding nearby.
I turned my head, and my eyes caught the transparent box I'd set at a distance.
It was the box holding the black slime I'd won at the auction house.
The slime was writhing like a living thing, slamming repeatedly against the box's walls.
At first glance, it looked like it was trying to escape, but as I approached for a closer look, it seemed more like a frantic bid to flee away from where I'd been standing.
"What's this about?"
It had stayed completely still during all my prior experiments. That's why I'd just left it forgotten in the corner without a second thought.
After a while, the black slime settled down again, and with my head full of other pressing thoughts, I decided to let it slide for now.
I immediately recalled the blinding light from that final experiment.
Right after witnessing it, my tier had risen, and realization had flooded in simultaneously.
This was different from my previous insights. Those had felt like slowly feeling out invisible shapes by hand, but this one was like knowledge being directly downloaded into my brain.
It was no ordinary thing.
That light had to be the new energy I'd yearned for—the one brimming with tremendous potential.
Primordial mana.
Setting aside whether that's precisely correct, could I recreate that power?
A phenomenon that had appeared only once amid hundreds of chance experiments.
Contradictory forces fusing through collision.
At my current level, I couldn't wield that delicate power like my own.
What occurred to me then was a workaround.
Property transmutation.
What if I used my trait to make mana mimic it?
No reason not to try.
I held out my palm—then hesitated.
Right, I'd burned through nearly all my mana.
It had recovered a little with the tier up, but still nowhere near enough.
Let's rest up first.
While resting, I took stock and confirmed my tier had definitely risen.
Not only had my shaky, feverish circle perked up good as new, but a new one had formed alongside it, exponentially boosting my mana capacity. With my innate talent for mana capacity, handling the increase was a breeze.
This much concerns the magic tier.
And what had strengthened with the core tier's rise was my trait.
The properties of cold and property transmutation had evolved further.
Other people's unique mana patterns... I could probably copy their traits outright, huh?
Of course, it wouldn't output exactly 100% the same power, but even so.
Just take forgery—it'd become even more flawless.
The issue was that none of this was remotely possible at a mere 6th tier.
Decisive proof that magic tiers were just side branches.
As I caught my breath, mana slowly filled to the brim.
I immediately tried mimicking the power I'd seen.
The instant I summoned mana onto my palm and willed it to transmute just like that force...
"Urk..."
My circle's mana got sucked away in a frenzy.
After dumping nearly everything, a power remarkably like that dazzling light bloomed above my palm.
All my mana expended for just a paltry handful.
If my base capacity hadn't been so ample, I wouldn't have managed it.
I hastily dispelled the light.
"Huff... huff..."
Mana hit rock bottom in the blink of an eye.
Still, elation overtook any concern.
Because I could mimic it, after all.
Not perfectly, but the direction was spot on.
My talent for mana capacity had never felt more invaluable.
A handful wouldn't cast any decent spell, but that didn't matter.
My specialty wasn't magic unleashed in an instant... but artifacts, meticulously prepared given enough time.
Once mana recovered again, the moment I tried shaping with that handful of primordial mana, realization dawned.
This power truly packed an insane amount of force.
Potential beyond measure.
An artifact forged from primordial mana would wield ridiculous might on its own.
It could manifest miraculous effects without complex formulas or computation.
An uncanny power bending entirely to my will.
With it, I could link my consciousness to a shaped clone and control it remotely—no relic-grade artifact required.
Maybe even craft a being that lived and breathed like the real deal.
And that wasn't all...
I might actually make a manaphone...
This was the qualitative breakthrough I'd craved so desperately against talent's wall—and then some.
An abrupt leap forward, but the power was equally absurd.
Worthy of the title "power of creation," grandiose as that sounds from me.
Of course, that assumed fully wielding primordial mana.
What I was doing now was mere mimicry via property transmutation.
A derivative... pseudo-primordial mana, let's say.
But even approximating that vast power was a win.
When my tier rises...
More precisely, core tier rise would further empower my trait, letting me seamlessly transmute my mana into the real primordial stuff.
...Feels like I'm a knockoff artisan peddling luxury replicas.
Though when the originals are this luxurious, it's a point of pride.
The mindset matches perfectly, too.
My mana trait aligned well, sure, but at root, it was attitude.
I'd come to this medieval world to recreate modern gadgets with mana from the start—no room for pretentious airs now.
Did that solve everything? Hardly.
Ditching formulas meant my entire accumulated framework was obsolete.
To harness this power, I'd have to scrap the old mold and blaze a new trail.
A solitary path, guidance-free.
I needed time to master handling derivative primordial mana...
I'll figure it out en route.
No time to waste.
A month until the regular assembly.
To avoid tardiness, depart now.
Two weeks just to reach the north.
By swapping carriages city-to-city and pushing it, maybe shave some off.
Even then, another similar stretch to the border beyond.
Above all, I needed to meet Vinsen for specifics on Philip Deran's appearance. Only then the next phase.
I'd originally planned to remake the relic-grade artifact I'd disassembled, but verifying primordial mana's prowess changed that.
This derivative primordial mana.
Shape Philip Deran with it directly.
No medium needed. No computation required. Just add long-range mana reception.
But the primordial mana from all-out effort yielded a mere handful. With scant chances, mastery speed en route to the north was crucial.
Circles... time to grind again.
One more seat had been added at the table where Erbanek and the priest sat facing each other.
It was Celine.
Erbanek had relayed another of the World Tree's prophecies to her, and Celine sank into thought upon hearing it.
What filled her mind was the existence of '0'.
A prophecy tied to '0'?
Her intuition pointed there unbidden.
If the World Tree deigned to prophesy it, this was no trifling affair.
And the last time she'd sensed such gravity was her chat with '0' at the black stele.
But this prophecy concerned a new tree's birth.
'0' scarce seemed a newborn.
If anything, he might already rank among the greats.
No...
Celine mulled the prophecy's phrasing.
Not "soon a new tree shall be born," but "soon the Tree of Life shall take root."
Take root...
Too nuanced for plain "birth."
It evoked laying foundations, then nurturing something atop them.
...Could '0' be creating something?
Of course, it might be unrelated.
First, probe any link between '0' and the tree.
She had no desire to unmask the anonymous chat room's denizens, but Mother's words left no choice.
"...Celine. Celine! Are you listening?!"
Celine jolted from her reverie.
"Yes? I zoned out for a second. Sorry. Could you repeat that?"
"I asked how you knew. About the goings-on around Silvarion."
"..."
Celine couldn't reply lightly.
It was info from Anonymous (1), courtesy of '0's favor and bargain.
Honesty meant exposing the stele.
After a pause, she answered.
"Truth is... I snuck out and checked myself."
Leaving Silvarion was strictly verboten.
Even a princess risked confinement or worse if caught.
Yet Celine concealed the stele.
Her heart tilted that way, perhaps.
Or maybe the stele's intel had outshone Mother's prophecy from the start.
Erbanek, unexpectedly, didn't chide harshly.
"You finally slipped the forest, eh? Well... I figured as much. Already got the report from your first jaunt."
That was when she'd first found the black stele.
She'd flouted rules brazenly in plain view, even greenlighting reports.
Erbanek had heard yet said nothing till now.
"Harking on it now would be absurd. Especially with Mother urging danger prep, yet no firm call made."
Had she skipped picking up that black stele... what then?
Celine pondered anew.
The World Tree's prophecy would've informed all regardless.
But she'd wield no influence therein.
Her prior warning carried weight.
Her foreknowledge alone shifted elves' eyes.
Leveraging it, she'd swayed many while Erbanek held back.
And surprisingly many flipped.
Despite choosing battle.
Fighting repels the immediate threat.
Aftermath's the rub.
Other races' meddling and encroachments. Isolation ends then.
And that's precisely what Celine sought.
Past glories aside, closure just gnaws reserves.
Better yield some assets... yes, trade.
Then '0' resurfaced in mind.
No price, he'd said... but no such charity exists.
Someday, she'd yield something.
She must remember that, Celine resolved.