Chapter 44: A Difference in Perspective
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 44: A Difference in Perspective
Ferda returned safely to Valdrova Castle.
Arwen watched him pass through the gates before immediately turning back toward the Consilus territory. At the main entrance, Ruri stood waiting to greet Ferda and his party.
“How was your journey?” she asked.
It was a businesslike question, and Ferda gave an equally businesslike answer.
“It was comfortable. There were no ambushes, and with an escort attached, it wasn't boring.”
“I see. However, it seems you’ve returned with one more person than when you left?”
When they had departed the castle, the group consisted only of Jed, Ferda, and a coachman. Now, a man laden with an excessive amount of luggage followed behind them.
“Regent! I’ve loaded everything onto my cart. Should I load your luggage now as well?”
Malcolm, who had been frantically unpacking his things onto the cart, belatedly noticed Ruri.
“Eek! You—you’re that intruder from before?!”
Malcolm recoiled, trembling in terror. It wasn't as if he were being exposed to something like Dragon Fear; even if she were emitting such an aura, he was currently wearing the resistance ring he’d received before arriving at Valdrova Castle. He was simply a coward.
“You’ve brought back a pathetic one,” Ruri noted, letting out a sharp, derisive sigh.
“He is pathetic, yes, but he’s an excellent specimen.”
“A specimen for what?”
“What else would a specimen be for, if not experiments?”
“...Are you researching black magic now?”
“I need to research it, but he isn't for that.”
Leaving it at that, Ferda attempted to step further into the castle. However, Ruri moved to block his path.
“What is it?”
“What is it? Are you really asking because you don’t know?” Ruri’s eyes shifted downward, coming to rest on Ferda’s right hand. “Don’t you think it’s a serious crime to step into this castle carrying such a stench?”
“...”
Ferda felt a strange chill at her words. His eyes reflexively scanned her person, and he spotted an object peeking out from her pocket. It was a coarse, green-dyed towel.
If that towel touched skin, it would strip away the layers of grime—and the skin along with it. The excruciating pain of having one's flesh scraped away was unavoidable.
Snap! Snap!
The towel snapped in Ruri’s hands, letting out sharp, whip-like cracks.
Ah. So she had been waiting for this moment...
Ruri had her justification. The fact that the scent of another woman lingered on Ferda’s hand could cause a misunderstanding for Valdrova. Such misunderstandings had to be eliminated in advance.
He understood her logic, but Ferda had not forgotten the screams of the knights. They had shrieked like children facing a demon. Ferda didn't think he could endure what they couldn't.
Ferda glanced at Ruri again. Unlike his apprehensive expression, her face was filled with anticipation.
“Can I ask one favor?”
“Speak.”
“I’d prefer if we did this inside a spatial isolation magic field.”
He spoke like a death row inmate giving his final words. Ruri nodded solemnly.
“Of course. We can’t have the whole neighborhood knowing about your masochistic tastes, Ferda.”
“...Right.”
He didn't have the strength to argue. Ferda followed Ruri inside. What happened in the bathhouse that day became a secret shared only between the two of them.
* * *
His body scrubbed until it practically glowed, Ferda managed to pull his clothes on. His sensitized skin tingled every time the fabric brushed against it.
I have to endure.
From this point on, Ferda needed to focus. He looked down at the book resting on his desk: Barbatos' Shadow Arts.
The Demon of Schemes loved to move in secret. This magic specialized in catching opponents off guard by manipulating shadows like extra limbs. As a grimoire emphasizing stealth, it was a difficult object to seal. Unless it was bound by silver chains enchanted with shape-anchoring magic, its form would melt away and relocate elsewhere.
Barbatos' Shadow Arts emphasized one principle above all: The shadow must become me, and I must become the shadow.
Just as one had to treat the Shadow Hand as a third limb, failing to keep this principle in mind would result in intense phantom pains.
But there are things here I need.
The greatest merit was that using Shadow Arts required no magic circles. Furthermore, the hands created by the magic weren't just constructs; they could be used exactly like real limbs. This meant Ferda could manifest other spells through the Shadow Hand.
It doesn't offer much in terms of raw firepower.
True to the nature of Barbatos, the Demon of Schemes and Secrecy, this was a different breed of magic compared to the Shadow Circle of other black magics.
Instead, it allows me to strike from a blind spot.
While weak in a direct confrontation, it held infinite possibilities in a battle of wits. This was why Ferda had chosen Barbatos' Shadow Arts out of all the black magic available.
To read it, I have to undo these silver chains.
To undo the chains, he had to break the magic, and to break the magic, he needed to decipher the runes. Thus, Ferda sought out Echidna.
“I’d like you to undo these chains. Do you think you can do it?”
“O-Of course! I’ll do it right away, hehe.”
Echidna looked at Ferda with a giddy expression. It was a look that hovered somewhere between a girl infatuated with a prince and a witch harboring dark fantasies.
“Thank you. What would you like as payment?”
“P-Payment? I don’t really need anything!”
“If you perform a task, you should receive a corresponding reward, shouldn't you?”
Providing fair compensation for work—that was the best way to deal with a witch without any future complications.
“Payment, huh...” Echidna’s eyes darted around. They landed on the blonde girl standing next to Ferda. It was Mori. “T-Then, could you let me sleep in the same bed as Mori for one night?”
Sleeping with Mori. If it were just two girls sharing a bed, it wouldn't be particularly strange. However, the person asking was a witch—a witch who was currently, gloomily, drooling.
“Would you be okay with that?” Ferda asked, looking at Mori.
Mori replied with a note she had brought.
[—Based on Echidna’s behavioral patterns, sleeping with her is predicted to cause a 30% drop in work efficiency.]
Thirty percent was too much. He wondered what kind of behavioral patterns would cause such a massive drop.
“I cannot accept that.”
“Aw, well, if I must...” Echidna muttered to herself. Then why did you even bring it up?
Ferda decided to propose the offer he had prepared for the disappointed witch.
“How about I give you time to spend with Jed?”
“With Sir Jed?!” Echidna’s face turned beet red. In her excitement, she began huffing through her nose and nodding repeatedly. “S-So, h-how much time...?!”
“This much.”
Ferda held up three fingers. She looked immensely satisfied.
“Thirty whole minutes?! Mmm-hmm! That’s great too! Let’s do it! Deal!”
“...Understood.”
Ferda’s three fingers had meant three hours. However, she had settled for a sixth of that and was happy about it. If I had said three hours, it might have had the opposite effect.
Since he had established a baseline for payment, Ferda figured he could adjust future rewards based on this.
“Now, shall we take a look?”
With an excited face, Echidna placed the shadow grimoire on her work table. She put on a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and began observing the book. She used not just her sight, but all five senses to observe the elements making up the volume.
“Hmm, the material isn't hard; it’s soft like mud. The smell is... sniff. Haa, the scent of sulfur from Hell is truly special. It’s got that funky... you know? That strange smell like an armpit—”
“Stop.”
“Ah, yes. Hehe...”
Stopping her before she could wander off into a tangent about foul smells, he focused her back on the task. Having finished her assessment of the book, she moved on to the silver chains. When she lightly infused them with mana, blue letters rose from the metal.
Runes.
“Hmm...”
Echidna’s gaze became quite serious. It was hard to believe this was the same woman who spent her time chasing after men. She’s the same type as Burnell. When focused on her work, she began deciphering the runes with a solemn air.
If you can create runes, you can decipher them.
What Echidna was doing was similar to identifying and disarming a set trap. By deciphering the runes, she could understand how the magic functioned and identify the side effects of a forced dispelling.
“They’ve placed a shape-anchoring spell on it, and even a trap spell that strikes the dispeller if they try to force it. An ordinary mage would die, you know? And this signature here... it looks like the Alte Order.”
“Can you undo it?”
Echidna gave a playful smile. “I don’t think I need to undo it.”
“Why not?”
“If I undo the shape-anchoring spell, we don’t know when this book might try to run away. Do you plan on reading this book once and then throwing it away, Regent?”
Ferda shook his head. Even if he obtained all the magic within, it would be troublesome if this book were loose in the world.
“So, let’s just loosen the conditions a bit.”
“How so?”
“By changing the conditions of the shape-anchoring spell. Instead of simply 'seal this book as it is,' we change it to 'allow a certain degree of form.' Just enough so that it can be read.”
“Proceed.”
“Yes, sir!”
Echidna chanted an incantation while tapping the runes with her pen. A moment later, a circular magic circle unfolded before her. It looked to be at least a 5th-tier spell. She brought her fingers to the circle and began manipulating various parts of it.
Manipulating a magic circle...
Even when Ferda was an Archmage, he had considered the idea. However, destroying a spell and recasting it was generally easier and more common.
Rune Makers are different.
They could touch the magic itself because they understood its flow. That was why she could come up with the idea of loosening the conditions rather than simply breaking them.
“If I do this here... there! Done!”
When she tapped a rune with her pen, the magic circle sank back into the runes. Simultaneously, the tightly bound silver chains began to loosen under Echidna’s power.
“Can I read it here for a moment?”
“Yes! Of course!”
“Bring me a few thick books.”
“Books? J-Just a moment!”
She pulled out several thick dictionaries as requested.
“But why?”
“I need to adjust the sitting height.”
“Sitting height?”
Ferda stacked three books on a chair. He was adjusting it for Mori.
“Is this height alright?”
Mori nodded.
“Then, let’s begin—”
“W-Wait a minute!!”
Just as they were about to start, Echidna jumped in and shielded Mori.
“Were you planning to make our Mori read that book? Such a cruel thing to do to a child—it’s worse than death!”
“Then why else would I have brought her?”
“I thought it was because Mori wanted to see me so, so much! Isn't that right?”
Echidna beamed at Mori, who wrote on her note: [—That is not the case.]
“Eek... I thought we had definitely become f-friends... Was I the only one who was sincere??”
[—Yes.]
Mori drew a firm line. Echidna began to sniffle at the earth-shattering confirmation.
“This is a task only this child can do,” Ferda said.
“But being exposed to the Demon Language written by a demon...”
“Yes, a person gradually goes mad.”
“You’re making her do it knowing that?! Isn't that too cruel?!” Echidna hugged Mori, rubbing her cheek against the girl’s head. Ferda finally understood why work efficiency would drop.
“It doesn't matter. It’s impossible to corrupt this child anyway.”
“R-Really?” Echidna asked, and Mori nodded. “Well, if that’s the case...”
Even in her final moment of doubt, Echidna stroked the girl’s hair.
“Begin.”
At Ferda’s command, Mori opened the book. In that instant, something contained within the pages began to emanate. A pungent smell of sulfur filled the air, and a sensation like something filthy crawling over the skin took hold.
That was the nature of the Demon Language written by a demon. To look upon it was profanity; to hold it in one's eyes was to be branded.
Ferda and Echidna looked away from the script. The Demon Language was forged in Hell itself. Anyone who encountered the Demon Language written by a demon would see a glimpse of Hell. Those who saw it would hear the whispers of demons for the rest of their lives, as if they had been branded.
It was a test that would never end. If one could not overcome this eternal trial, they would either become a Demon Worshipper or a madman. In this way, they became a medium for demons to enter this world, a foothold for their dominion.
It’s the same for me.
Because the Demon Language derived from the very essence of the characters, it was impossible to block it in advance. Ferda had encountered the Demon Language before to learn demonic magic. In fact, the reason he had been able to master the Shadow Hand was because he had learned the language.
Though I erased it all from my mind once I mastered it.
The best way was to learn and decipher the magic, then wipe the Demon Language from one's memory. This was how Ferda had known the magics of Hell without being swayed by them.
Now, I don’t even need to learn the language.
There was someone who had already learned it, someone who could decipher it for him. The Slave Sage, Mori. She would be Ferda’s scribe.
Mori stared intently at the demonic script. A deep red flame ignited in her eyes. The book’s gaze was becoming a spear, trying to peer into Mori. However, there was no way it could shake her. It wasn't because Mori was perfect or incorruptible; even the most perfect being could be swayed by a demon.
It was because she had no ego. To shake someone, the demons needed an ego to use as a handle. Since there was no handle, there was no way for them to grasp her.
She took up her pen and began writing on the paper. Even with the window to Hell wide open, she maintained ultimate rationality and continued her deciphering. Ignoring the demonic whispers until the very last page, Mori finished the translation quickly and closed the book.
In Mori’s right hand was the original. In her left was the translation.
“Is it finished?”
When Ferda asked for confirmation, Mori nodded. Ferda gave his final command.
“Then, forget everything you have seen.”
In that instant, the eyes that had glowed with red flames returned to their original color. With a single command, she had truly forgotten everything. For a pure human, such an instruction would have been impossible. It was a feat only Mori, the Slave Sage, could perform.
A moment later, Mori’s body began to sway. She struggled to keep her heavy eyelids open. She had used too much strength for the deciphering.
“Go to sleep early today.”
With Ferda’s permission, the exhausted Mori leaned against the back of the chair and closed her eyes.
“Echidna, could you take Mori to her room?”
“Of course!” Echidna was looking at her with a lecherous gaze. “Hehe, hehehe, hehehehe...!”
She even began to drool. Ferda finally understood why efficiency would drop by 30%. He added one more thing.
“Lay her in her bed and come right back out. I will not permit any further contact. Understood?”
“O-Of course! I don’t have any other intentions at all! Really?!” She said the words, but the way she smacked her lips in disappointment made her impossible to trust.
Ferda picked up the translation she had completed. He started by reading the section on the Shadow Hand, which he already knew. She wrote it exactly as I understood it.
He judged that there would be no problem understanding the magic by reading the translation alone. Ferda turned back to the beginning.
The reason I had to obtain this grimoire.
It was the mana cultivation method—one of the ways to reach the 4th Circle from the 3rd.
Shape of Shadow.
That page caught Ferda’s eye. Despite reading a book of Hell, a work by a Great Demon, there were no side effects.
How long would it take to reach the 4th Circle normally?
The 4th Circle was the stage where one truly earned the title of Mage. It was a difficult task that required years of effort even for the talented. The Red Circle was not much different.
If anything, it was more dangerous.
To begin with, the madness and danger of the Red Circle increased with each stage; the risks were high.
But was I ever the type to worry about that?
Ferda was a man who had grown strong for the sake of his hatred, a man who had never hesitated to take a challenge to gain power. If there was anything different now, it was that he was doing it for Valdrova.
Ferda decided to attempt the cultivation method immediately. Since the method was as effective as it was, the process was simple.
He lit a candle in a sealed room where not a single ray of light could enter. Then, he placed the candle behind his head to cast a long, dark shadow. He began by staring into that shadow. At first, it was just magic using shadows, but later, one could become the shadow itself or even enter the shadow of another. To seek freedom beyond common sense and master it—that was the goal.
The shadow becomes me, and I become the shadow.
Keeping that in mind, he stared quietly at the shadow flickering in the candlelight.
It happened in that instant. Ferda felt a sensation as if his body were suddenly pressed flat against the floor. As if trapped in a wall, he moved only two-dimensionally in a narrow, stifling space. He had entered a state of total concentration on the Shadow.
Now, I close my eyes.
Carrying that sensation with him, Ferda turned toward the circles rotating within his Dantian. He focused like that for about an hour. He needed to draw mana into the shadow and create a rotating force, but...
I feel nothing.
Ferda’s state was far too calm. For the Red Circle, calmness was nothing more than a brake.
It’s impossible for now.
When he realized it wouldn't work, he gave up without lingering regret. Ferda was still young, and he still had much work to do.
He left the darkroom and stepped outside. It was a night where the moon was beginning to tilt. Since it had dropped toward the west, it must have been well past midnight. He didn't know how many days had passed. Only the hungry growl from his stomach shouted that a long time had gone by.