Chapter 4
Chapter 4
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Encountering Magic (4)
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Shirone heard every sound. Of course, he possessed senses beyond that, but he couldn't bring himself to confess it to Alpheas.
The moment his vague ideal became tangible, all his thoughts faced reality, warning him that things were dangerous as they were.
Perhaps he hadn't even entered the Spirit Zone. He still couldn't define what it was.
It felt as if his body were breaking down into particles and scattering. His senses opened, and all sorts of information flooded in. He had trembled at the vastness of a world completely different from the one perceived by his five senses. At the same time, a single truth pierced his mind.
I am infinite.
“*Hic, sob.*”
Shirone shed tears, overwhelmed with emotion. He squeezed his eyes shut and bolted. He didn't even realize he was running. His awakened brain secreted a massive amount of adrenaline, plunging him into a temporary blackout.
Suddenly, a dull impact struck his face.
“Oof!”
Shirone clutched his nose and fell on his backside. When he came to his senses, he was in an alleyway. It was the kind of secluded place Vincent had strictly warned him never to enter.
“What the hell? So annoying!”
The young man Shirone had crashed into snapped as he fell. In front of him, a group of thuggish-looking men were glaring at Shirone.
As soon as the young man got up, he grabbed Shirone by the collar. He was a man with narrow, slanted eyes and lips twisted in a vile sneer.
“What's your deal? You crazy?”
“I-I’m sorry!”
“You think sorry cuts it? Spit it out. The Wolf pack sent you, didn't they? Weren't you trying to take me out just now?”
“No! That’s not it!”
The thugs smirked cruelly at Shirone's terrified eyes. This little kid, who looked adorable even as he cowered, didn't have the guts to hit a person, let alone wield a knife.
In the back alleys, his kind was called herbivores. And herbivores were a good source of income for carnivores. He was trembling in fear; all that was left was to fleece him.
‘Oh? Look at this.’
Judging by his face, though his clothes were shabby, he had an air of nobility. A kid like this was high-quality merchandise; you could get at least one gold coin for him in the South Village.
“What are you all doing? Something fun happening?”
“Miss Amy!”
The thugs exclaimed in unison, turning around.
Standing at the alley's entrance was a beautiful girl about Shirone's age. Her reddish bangs cascaded down, covering one eye, and she wore a dress with a collar as high as her long neck was graceful.
“Hehe. What brings you here, Miss? Bored again?”
Despite his casual tone, the young man rubbed his hands together obsequiously. It was a natural reaction for anyone who knew her identity.
Carmis Amy.
The youngest daughter of the Carmis family, who held the First-Class rank of nobility. Born with everything, she was weary of life, and her only pleasure these days was lurking in the back alleys, searching for something interesting.
The First-Class was just below royalty in rank, so it was only natural for back-alley thugs to tremble before her. Moreover, Amy was a big spender, which had earned her the respect of the hooligans.
“This kid, Miss. He was tryin’ to kill someone. So we were about to teach him a lesson.”
Shirone frantically shook his head.
“N-no, that’s not true. I bumped into him by accident.”
“Bullshit. You expect us to believe that?”
A burly man punched him in the stomach, and Shirone rolled on the ground, unable to even scream. He couldn't breathe, and his stomach felt like it was being torn apart. It was the first time in his life he had experienced violence.
“You’ve gotta compensate us, you punk! Where’s your mom? Go get the mother who’s probably stuffing her face with bread after birthing a conscienceless brat like you!”
Shirone was shocked. How could they say such things when they had mothers of their own? They were truly evil people.
“Oh? Look at the glare on this one. You upset?”
As Shirone's expression hardened, the thugs rushed in one after another and began to stomp on him. Even then, Shirone didn't understand why they avoided his face.
“Stop. You’re going to kill him.”
At Amy's command, the thugs backed off.
Shirone looked at her with terrified eyes. He envied her, free from pain as if an invisible glass wall stood between them.
“Hey! Are you okay?”
“I-I didn’t do anything.”
“Who said you did? I asked if you were okay.”
“I don’t know if I am.”
Shirone wanted to go home. Maybe this girl would let him. Didn't girls dislike seeing people get hurt? He prayed she would give her permission.
Amy turned to the thugs and said.
“So what now? Isn't there anything more interesting?”
Shirone stared at Amy, his eyes filled with betrayal and fear. But she just grinned like a mischievous child. One of the thugs scratched his head and spoke.
“Well, we were thinking of shaking him down a bit, then selling him off as a rent boy.”
Shirone's face turned as pale as thin soup. Seeing the boy's terrified expression, Amy did feel a little sorry for him.
But she had no intention of stooping to the level of these back-alley scumbags. She planned to scare him a little and then send him home.
“A rent boy can't have any defects. How about we strip him and see?”
Amy made the bold suggestion. Nobles matured faster than commoners, so a twelve-year-old was considered well-versed in theory.
As such, her curiosity was strong, and she had been thinking she'd like to see for herself at least once.
‘Besides… he’s handsome, isn’t he? Honestly.’
She would refuse to look at a rough adult's naked body even if she were paid. Fortunately, Shirone was about her age, and she liked his looks. While commoner women might prefer burly, well-built men, nobles favored faces like Shirone's.
“Go on, take them off. Who knows? If you do as you’re told, I might even let you go home.”
Shirone stood stunned under the numerous gazes. He couldn't understand why he had to be treated this way.
“Hey, the young lady told you to strip! You want another beating?”
A thug bellowed, but Shirone didn't even react.
Amy felt a flicker of unease. A twelve-year-old noble was considered grown, but a commoner was still a child. It was possible his mind had snapped from fear that had pushed him past his limit.
But Shirone hadn't lost his mind. On the contrary, he was more focused than ever. As panic set in, he had unknowingly entered the Spirit Zone.
This second experience in the Spirit Zone was different from the first. All sorts of information swirled around him. It felt like he could even hear the sound of the thugs blinking.
Shirone let his consciousness flow along the only path in this supersensory mental world. At the end of that path lay the memory of Alpheas casting his spell.
Shirone's insight gathered all the superficial information from when Alpheas had cast the spell—his emotions, senses, mind, actions, attitude, and posture.
Once the external form took shape, he could roughly guess the inner intent, and a certain concept popped into his head.
“You bastard! Hurry up and drop your pants! The young lady said she wants to see!”
The Spirit Zone, which required immense concentration, was vulnerable to physical shock. When the thug grabbed his collar and shook him, Shirone nearly fell out of it.
As an eerie energy flickered in Shirone's eyes, Amy reached out a hand and shouted.
“Wait!”
But it was already too late.
Shirone's mind, teetering on the edge between reality and the Spirit Zone, sensed the danger, and an instinctive will twisted the phenomenon.
*FWOOSH!*
A high-density gust of wind erupted, lifting everything in the alley into the air. Not only the thugs but Amy as well were sent flying.
It was as if a typhoon had swept through; not a wooden box, not a pebble, not even a speck of dust remained.
“Aaaah! Somebody help!”
The sound of screams from the sky snapped Shirone out of the Zone. When he came to his senses, he saw a desolate, empty alley.
A moment later, the people who had been lifted higher than the building's roof began to plummet, shrieking.
*Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!*
Heavy sounds that promised severe impact struck the ground. Gravity was a much more powerful force than one might think, and the thugs who landed on their arms and legs had their limbs shattered.
“Guhhhh…”
“My… my arm. My leg…!”
Legs were bent at grotesque angles, and forearm bones had pierced through the skin, jutting out by a hand's breadth. It was a scene of discarded wooden puppets strewn about carelessly.
Shirone, who had never expected a fleeting emotion to produce such a devastating result, was speechless.
Just then, one person landed on the ground completely unharmed—it was Amy.
Nobles trained their bodies systematically from a young age. This was especially true for the First-Class nobility.
Amy, who had held down her fluttering skirt as she descended, stared at Shirone with a dumbfounded expression.
“You… what in the world are you?”
The scene Shirone had created clearly demonstrated why mages were feared. Even she, who prided herself on her innate athletic ability, had been unable to resist the sudden vortex.
“Answer me! Where did you learn magic? How could a commoner…!”
Amy stopped talking and looked behind her. Attracted by the screams, people were gathering. If rumors spread that she was associating with thugs, her family would be in an uproar.
“Tch!”
Amy placed a foot against the building. Kicking off the wall, she launched herself into the air, then pushed off the opposite wall with both feet, disappearing onto the roof of a building on the other side.
“Huh? Huh?”
Shirone, whose eyes had been following her zigzag path, didn't know what to do when she vanished. If people saw this scene, he would be blamed for everything. The city was a cruel place for the powerless; no one would take his side.
Shirone fled down the opposite alley. He moved his legs frantically, searching for the only person he could trust and rely on: his father.
***
The Carmis Family.
A powerhouse of the kingdom that had maintained its First-Class rank for 200 years.
Though their main estate was here in Creas, the talents produced by the family were making remarkable contributions not just in the kingdom, but across the continent.
Amy opened the door, looking weary. Her father, Carmis Shakora, who had retired from politics and returned to the family estate, was reading a newspaper.
“I’m home.”
“Where have you been? I heard you skipped your lessons again.”
Though Shakora was over sixty, he looked young enough not to have a single white hair. A tall stature, a slender body, an intelligent face. His eyes held the pride of the kingdom's highest-ranking noble.
“I’ve already learned everything there is to learn. It’s not fun, either.”
“So you went to play with ruffians? No matter how much of a genius you are, if you do nothing but play, you’ll be overtaken. Even a gemstone must be polished to become a jewel. If you let your guard down, a day will come when you get stabbed in the back.”
“Ugh! That nagging again.”
Shakora chuckled. Her rambunctiousness was just like her mother's, but her talent came directly from his blood. Once she realized what she possessed, the tilted axis would right itself.
That was the fate of a genius.
Amy was about to go to her room when she stopped in her tracks. Thanks to her father's nagging, the incident from the afternoon that she didn't want to think about came to mind.
‘What in the world was that kid?’
Judging by his clothes and his terrified demeanor, he was clearly a commoner. The possibility of someone who wasn't a noble having formally learned magic was less likely than an illiterate person mastering the theory of kingship.
So, what was that magic he'd cast in the alley?
A chance manifestation? An awakening of talent? No matter how she thought about it, those were the only explanations she could come up with. Her father's words struck her with a fresh sting.
—*If you let your guard down, a day will come when you get stabbed in the back.*
Amy nibbled on her lip. It was true the world was boring, but she didn't have the slightest intention of falling behind others.
“Dad.”
Shakora put down his newspaper and adjusted his glasses. It was unexpected for his daughter, whom he'd thought was just going through puberty, to initiate a conversation.
“Yes. Is there something you want to talk about?”
“Well… it’s not that I particularly want to do it. It’s just, there’s a field that interests me.”
“Oh?”
Shakora's eyes lit up with interest. She was a child who understood a hundred things when taught one, so she would excel at whatever she chose.
“Tell me. Your father will give you his full support.”
“No, it’s not that I want to do it, really, I’m just interested.”
“Alright. Then I will give my full support to your interest.”
Amy licked her lips. She already knew the truth. With the power and wealth of the First-Class, there was nothing in the world she couldn't obtain.
Wishing for a parent who would endure hardship for their daughter was nothing more than the childish whim of an adolescent girl.
“Magic.”
“Hm? What was that?”
“If you know anyone at a magic academy, introduce me.”