The True Meaning of Magic
The dagger, having left its master’s hand, buried itself deep into the shoulder of the Gnoll scout. Staggering from the impact, the scout dropped its cleaver and rolled backward. A beastly, yelping sound escaped it. Only after rolling once did the Gnoll manage to right itself, dragging its hands and forearms across the dirt before finding its balance on all fours. Its chest was pressed low to the ground, while its hindquarters were hoisted high, its tail stiffened into a half-moon shape. It was a posture similar to a cat preparing to pounce. The scout lowered its snout as if to bury it in the earth, and simultaneously, its chest swelled. It was going to howl. Block it. The instinct echoed through my entire body. What do I do? How do I stop it? My field of vision narrowed. The world turned black, leaving only the Gnoll’s gaping maw floating in the void. My muscles tensed, and my heart hammered against my ribs as if it might burst. How do I...
“Hazel!” Meredith’s voice pierced through the darkness. When I regained my senses, I saw that Meredith had already lunged at the Gnoll holding the shield. “Trust your allies and keep your cool!” Her sharp command made my legs move on their own. I sprinted toward the shield-bearing Gnoll. Glancing to the side, I saw the scout’s snout pinned by a dagger—it must have been hit by a follow-up throw.
“If you’re a mage, act like one!” Meredith, positioned at a distance, thrust her staff forward to keep the Gnoll in check. It was a typical staff, tipped with a hook. I took a position at a sixty-degree angle from Meredith and extended my rod. Just by tapping the edge of the shield with the tip of my rod, I could see the Gnoll’s movements falter. The protagonist was already driving a slender blade into the scout’s body. There was no need to push further. As long as we maintained this state until the protagonist arrived, victory was ours. Perhaps the Gnoll realized this, for it suddenly changed its tactics. It twisted its body, aiming for the weakest link among us: me.
The Gnoll swung its shield-arm in a wide arc, and unfortunately, the tip of my rod struck the shield. My upper body was jerked back in the direction the rod was deflected. Seizing that opening, the Gnoll half-turned its torso and thrust its sword forward.
“Hazel!” I heard the protagonist shout from afar. The tip of the sword rushed toward my face. Think calmly. The Gnoll’s lunge was a final, desperate act. The attack was sharp, but it wasn’t a stance that could lead into a follow-up combo. Meredith was beside me. As long as it wasn’t a combo, I could buy enough time for the protagonist to arrive. I just had to dodge once. Just once.
Losing my balance, I let gravity take me and flopped backward. The sword the Gnoll thrust sliced through empty air. “Not so fast!” Meredith hooked the Gnoll’s foot with the curved part of her staff and yanked. The Gnoll, already off-balance from its desperate lunge, tumbled to the ground. Meredith raised her staff and continued to bash the fallen Gnoll’s skull until the protagonist arrived to finish it off with a stiletto—a long, thin blade designed for piercing.
“So that’s… real magic,” I said to Meredith while lying on the ground. “Is this how low-level mages are supposed to fight? Phew. I’m exhausted.”
Meredith panted heavily as she replied, “Hazel, are you hurt?” the protagonist asked, offering a hand. I grabbed it, pulled myself up, and sat down right where I was. “I’m fine,” I answered. With those words, everyone fell into a silent, rhythmic breathing, as if by mutual agreement.
The protagonist offered words of encouragement. Meredith, on the other hand, was quiet. Quiet, yet somehow noisy. Her gaze darted back and forth; it seemed she had much to say, but it was all jumbled inside, and she couldn’t quite find the opening to start.
“You can say it, you know.” At my words, Meredith stiffened. She let a moment pass before speaking cautiously. It was unlike her. “You were… a bit excited back there.”
“Is it because I’m a beastkin?” It was a self-deprecating remark, but also one that was difficult to bring up in front of Meredith. She had regretted saying, “You’re a beastkin, aren’t you?” during our first meeting. She had never brought it up directly, but whenever she used the word ‘beastkin,’ I could see her glancing at me, checking my reaction.
“…It’s not like that.” Her voice sounded strained. “You’re right. Um… I could feel my animal instincts kicking in.” I clenched and unclenched my hands a few times. The sensation from moments ago still seemed to linger in my body—the feeling of every muscle in my body tightening, as if I were about to be launched like a projectile. “Is this one of the reasons why there are so few beastkin mages? I’ve learned something valuable.”
Meredith wore an expression of not knowing what to do. Perhaps even if she was good at teaching, her lack of experience showed in situations like this. Silence flowed between us—Meredith choosing her words, and me waiting.
“Just give her a sharp scolding. If you don’t learn it now, you’ll have to learn it with your body next time.” The one who broke the silence wasn’t either of us, but the protagonist. “Finish this quickly and help with the herb gathering. It’s not like there’s someone else here to do the work.” An awkward, out-of-place complaint followed. A soft laugh erupted from in front of me. Meredith was stifling her giggles. Once the laughter died down, she looked relieved, as if she had finally sorted out her thoughts.
“Hazel. You must either craft the perfect plan or dismantle the enemy’s plan with maximum efficiency. If you are a mage, you must achieve one of the two.” Unlike before, her eyes were filled with conviction. “Use anything to achieve that. Swing your staff, throw rocks, scream, command others, or… use the instincts within you.” She took a breath. “Anyone can use magic. The important thing is how you use it. In any given situation, you must be the wisest person in the room. That is the job of a true Wizard.”
“And this is your punishment,” she added, ruffling my hair vigorously. My head, which had felt heavy, suddenly felt much lighter. “Hey, adventurer! Is the work going well?” She finished her long-winded disciplinary action and ran off toward the protagonist. Was she trying to hide her embarrassment? Her cheeks did look a little flushed.
It is said that every monster has its own set of loot. Since everything except for specific parts turns to dust, memorizing the loot for each monster is considered an essential task. Basically, the loot for all Gnolls is their fangs; from scouts, one can additionally obtain feathers used for head ornaments and blowguns; and from shamans, one can obtain skull decorations. The chieftain doesn’t have specific loot, but the massive fangs themselves are a great reward. The value of the blowgun apparently changes depending on whether the darts inside are tipped with paralytic or hemorrhagic poison. Unfortunately, the darts in this one seemed to be paralytic. It was a shame, but what could I do? I hung it securely on my waist.
Meredith was just watching with her hands folded. She was the employer, after all. There was someone else to do the manual labor. As we organized the loot and continued forward, the surrounding rock walls grew increasingly high. We were descending, heading into the heart of the canyon. As the path we walked grew lower, the protagonist became increasingly sensitive. He spent more time scouting the path ahead and occasionally looked back at the areas we had already passed. That atmosphere transferred to us, and the small talk that had been continuing gradually died out completely; even breathing felt like something to be careful about. While we were advancing with such caution, the protagonist sent a hand signal. We hadn’t coordinated it beforehand, but I could tell it was a ‘stop’ signal.
I lowered my body as much as possible and approached the protagonist. Indeed. On the splitting path, on a protruding cliff edge, a group of Gnolls had set up camp. One scout, three warriors, and one shaman. A total of five were positioned on the high ground, monitoring the canyon. Unlike the group we had fought earlier, two of them were carrying bows. We were at a disadvantage in both elevation and range.
“We’ll break them first, and handle whoever comes swarming later.”
“Can you do it?”
“One magic arrow.”
A short exchange passed, and the protagonist nodded. “Hazel, keep a close watch.” Meredith pulled out a glass tube filled with water.
"Frozen arrow, crush them."
⟨ Frost Lance ⟩
Once the incantation ended, the glass tube began to glow with a soft light. Meredith threw the tube. As soon as it left her hand, it shot forward. It was a speed that could never be achieved by her physical strength alone. The tube instantly changed shape into a small ice branch, then into a thick pillar of ice, and finally into a round sphere. With a thud, the sphere struck the lower part of the protruding cliff. With a thunderous roar, the protruding section collapsed from the edge. The Gnoll group tried to scramble away, but they were swept up by the rapidly approaching death and fell off the cliff. As massive chunks of rock crumbled, the ground shook. A large cloud of dust rose where the Gnolls must have fallen. There was no need to check; they couldn’t have survived.
“This is real magic.” Meredith smiled at me. It was her own charming smile that made everyone watching feel refreshed.