Dark Moon
Pop.
I uncorked the bottle and downed the drug in a single pull.
Thud!
My heart hammered violently. The mana inside my body poured outward, and the Astral — what mages call the mind itself — was forced wide open. The mana that had left my body felt like a second set of senses. Even without sensory organs, I had the uncanny impression of touch, smell, and sight all at once.
It didn't stop there.
My perception of mana grew sharper still. Sharper and sharper, until it transcended sensation entirely. It felt as though the world itself were shattering, mixing, being created, and shattering again.
Fifty mana roads activated by force. The Astral expanded and contracted in endless cycles. The world felt like it was sinking into a black hole, thick and viscous. And then, at some point, every physical sensation vanished.
Normally, the self would be swept away by something like this. The Astral is the mind, and that mind was melting down like a dead slime being stirred into sludge — so maintaining a sense of self should have been the strange part. The problem was that the strange part was happening to me.
Inside an Astral that kept contracting and expanding, spinning and counter-spinning, only my consciousness remained unshaken and intact.
Taking Playroad had been the gamble of a lifetime. And it seemed I'd won.
Playroad.
The most dangerous awakening drug in this world, known by three nicknames.
Ordinary people called it the Final Pleasure. If a normal person took the undiluted concentrate, death was guaranteed — one hundred percent.
The second nickname was the Wellspring of Inspiration. Artists sought Playroad more than anyone else. Word had spread among them that drinking it brought inspiration flooding in.
And the third and final nickname: the 5% Hope.
It was the hope of mages who had hit a wall. Rumor among the mage community held that there was a five percent chance of breaking through that wall. Whether the odds were truly five percent, no one knew. But the rumor that this absurd awakening drug could, if used properly, let you surpass your limits — that much was true. I was living proof of it right now.
"…Khhhuuuh…."
Was that my voice?
My senses were so wrecked I couldn't tell. All I could see was a world that had shattered past the point of recognition, reduced to dust. Then the world began to reassemble itself, as if someone were putting the pieces back together.
I couldn't tell if I was sitting on the floor or hanging upside down from the ceiling. I had no physical sensation at all. How did fingers work again? How did breathing work? What even was sexual desire?
I wiped every rising question clean and focused on the Astral.
The jumbled Astral kept contracting and expanding. A normal reaction. What I needed to do was organize it — keep the useless junk from settling in. Too much garbage information and my brain would end up like something microwaved into slag.
Crack!
How much time had passed? A fracture began to form across the Astral that had been pulsing in and out. I quietly peered into the cracked section. The thin line widened, then shattered with a sharp ring.
Because my sense of self was intact, the Astral didn't collapse. It slowly repaired the broken portion.
Through the fracture, I glimpsed what lay beyond.
I saw the total sum of a vast magical formula. Something I couldn't comprehend at my current level — something as massive as the sun itself.
The moment I saw it, I knew instinctively what it was. The source of all magic. The Over Mind.
I wanted to understand more, but the Astral finished repairing itself. Stability returned. I had broken through the wall.
"……."
I opened my eyes.
A cold gray floor filled my vision. I'd been sitting, but my face was planted against the ground. And the stench hit me. I'd thrown up. Mixed into the vomit, unblended, was blood. A nosebleed. It was still streaming down my face.
"…What a mess."
I got to my feet. My body trembled. The Astral had reached 5-Class, but my physical body was still stuck at 4-Class — the imbalance was throwing everything off. Side effects from that mismatch were wracking my flesh.
"Congratulations. You've become a 5-Class. To think you were only 4-Class all this time…. Your thoroughness is impressive enough, but the talent to punch through a five percent chance and reach 5-Class is even more remarkable. How does it feel?"
"Like I want to throw up."
I closed my eyes and surveyed my body from within. Mana roads: fifty. Same as when I'd been 4-Class. Normally, reaching 5-Class meant at least eighty mana roads.
In other words, my rank wasn't normal.
Still, the Astral made it to 5-Class. My output will lag behind other 5-Class mages… but I can cover casting speed with Charna, and I can use the more demanding 5-Class spells without conditions.
Water
Telekinesis
I cast both spells at once. Water formed in midair, and telekinesis guided it across my ruined face. Rinsing out my mouth as well, the stench vanished and I felt clean again.
"…So why'd you take off the mask?"
"A gesture of respect toward you. I have witnessed your extraordinary talent. I would very much like to maintain a good relationship going forward."
"What's your name?"
"Louis Bilstein. I was once a special agent of the Heist Empire. I now work for Bilstein Corporation."
"……."
I wasn't particularly surprised. It was exactly the identity I'd expected.
"And what is your name?"
"Are you joking? You already know my name."
"That is a designation, not a name. Do you not have one? If you would permit me, might I have the honor of giving you a name?"
"Don't say creepy shit like that. My name is… Yujin. My name is Yujin."
Louis nodded with a faintly disappointed look.
"Adolf would have suited you rather well… a pity. Of course, Yujin suits you just fine."
"……."
I closed my eyes. I needed to take stock of my condition. After a long stretch of internal inspection, Louis spoke up as if bored.
"Your body doesn't seem normal. Are you all right?"
"It's the imbalance between Astral and flesh. I'll correct it with time."
"Hmm. That's a relief. Have you recruited any comrades, by the way?"
"Comrades?"
"Your fellow candidates, Mr. Yujin. The more people you bring over, the smoother the plan becomes."
I sighed without meaning to.
"…No. I'm doing this alone."
"Hmm. Very well. At your current level, I'm sure you'll manage."
The faces of No. 212 and the other candidates rose in my mind.
If this succeeded, I'd become a wanted man with a bounty higher than any terrorist. I'd spend the rest of my life hunted by the Freesel Kingdom. Even if I fled to another country, pursuers would follow — that much was certain.
I didn't want to smash their dreams. I didn't want to hand them a life of being hunted forever.
Kill Instructor Vinous. End the Battle Mage Project. If the plan works, they'll get their freedom. …I'll carry the cost myself.
I stood up.
"Did you bring everything I asked for?"
"Yes. It's all in this bag. But what do you need these things for?"
"I have a use for them. I'm stepping out for a bit. Stay here. Or leave — I don't care."
"I'll wait. The scenery alone is worth looking at, so I won't be bored."
I left Louis behind and headed for Abandoned Mine No. 11.
I hadn't come to this northern village for no reason. There was something here I needed to obtain.
In the original game, you had to finish eight moon-related prerequisite quests to get this. But reality isn't a game. I can ignore the quests.
Deep inside the abandoned mine, I walked along tapping the walls with my fist.
…Found it.
Air Boom
Boom!
The wall collapsed, revealing a hidden passage. Unlike the rest of the abandoned mine, the corridor looked clean — though thick with dust from long neglect.
At the end of the passage stood the first door. A door with no handle. I reached into the bag and pulled out one of the items Louis had prepared.
A reddish-brown copper coin. I held it against the door.
Rumble.
The door flared with light for an instant, then opened.
Inside was a space that felt lived-in. I opened a drawer in the corner, pulled out a red potion, and drank it. My stomach had been sour for a while; the potion settled it considerably. I tossed the empty bottle on the floor and went deeper.
Another handleless door. This time I took out a topaz fragment and pressed it to the surface.
Rumble.
The door opened.
The doors opened when you presented the right ore or gem. Easy if you knew the walkthrough; a tedious gimmick if you didn't.
I repeated the process — ores and gems, doors opening, pressing further in. The deeper I went, the more disordered the rooms became. I grabbed every potion and scrap of material I could. Then I used platinum to open the eighth and final door and stepped through.
I strode straight to the table at the far end of the room.
There it is!
My mouth curled upward as I spotted the thick book resting on the table.
This was the workshop of Macdor, a 7th Class alchemist. The heavy tome was packed solid with his alchemy.
In this world, alchemy is treated as a form of magic. As a mage, I can learn it too. Alchemical formulas are supposed to be hellishly complex… but not beyond understanding.
I flipped the book open right there and began devouring the alchemy, then snapped back to myself and retrieved what I needed from the drawer beneath the desk.
Three ampoules.
Doping potions called Overlord.
In the game, they were used constantly — but according to the lore, the side effects were severe enough that I wouldn't be able to spam them the way a player would.
I walked out of the mine with Macdor's alchemy treatise in hand.
Incredible. To organize it this thoroughly…
Everything from basic alchemy to a host of secret techniques was recorded inside.
The mission window is three days. More than enough time to memorize all of it.
Awoooooooo.
The moment I stepped out of the abandoned mine, a wind laced with cold hit me, and a wolf's howl rose from nearby.
Ah, right — there's a werewolf nest near Abandoned Mine No. 5. Since I'm here, I might as well clear it out.
I walked across the snow-falling tundra. Someone might have called the landscape magical. To a soldier's eyes, it was nothing but garbage.
I stopped mid-stride. Nearly twenty wolves came charging in and ringed me like a noose.
"Grrrrrrr."
At the center of the pack stood a werewolf, grinning with smug confidence. A two-meter bipedal wolfman.
In the original, werewolves aren't simple monsters. They're the end result of a wolf factor running completely wild.
Werewolves had originally been human.
Not that it mattered.
Electric Field
I stamped once. Hundreds of blue electrical strands erupted from the ground around me. The packed snow melted. Twenty-three wolves convulsed as the current hit them.
Even after Electric Field swept through, the wolves didn't die. They shuddered and forced themselves back up.
Electric Field is a 4-Class spell. The output shouldn't have been lacking… maybe the werewolf's influence is buffing them.
I raised my right hand. Telekinesis activated, pulling the surrounding water and snow into the air. Snow and water each coalesced, taking the shape of twenty-three swords.
Steel Alchemy
A 2-Class alchemical spell. The water and snow temporarily converted into steel. Twenty-three fine steel blades now hung in the air.
I dropped my right hand. All twenty-three steel swords fell on the wolves at once. Instant death. Every blade punched clean through a throat. Not a single wolf remained alive. The twenty-three steel swords reverted to snow and water and crumbled away.
Only the werewolf was left.
Barrier
A werewolf's burst acceleration couldn't be ignored, so I wrapped myself in a barrier.
I'd expected it to charge me. Instead, the moment our eyes met, the werewolf flinched. Then it spun around and fled across the tundra on all fours.
Running? That I didn't expect.
I didn't panic. This was open tundra between abandoned mines. No matter how fast it ran, it couldn't leave my line of sight.
I pulled falling snow from the sky with telekinesis and shaped it into fist-sized projectiles.
Matter Conversion
I converted the snow rounds into aluminum rounds.
Charna activated.
Remaining stacks: 6
In the slowed world, I calculated the formula and drew a magic circle centered on the projectile.
Crack — crackle-crackle!
Current leapt furiously from the blue magic circle.
I adjusted the angle between the circle and the round, then cocked my fist. Like a revolver's hammer striking a primer, I punched the magic circle.
Railgun
The fired railgun split the packed snow to either side and slammed into the werewolf. Snow blasted outward in every direction, and a crater opened in the ground.
KRAAAAAAANG!
By the time I heard the sound, the launch shockwave had already hit me. The residual force alone shredded my 5-Class barrier to ribbons. Fortunately, the barrier took the hit — no direct impact reached my body.
Confirming the werewolf's mangled corpse from a distance, I turned away.
Weaker than I expected.
The railgun spell I'd designed myself left me less than satisfied. You couldn't expect perfection on the first try, but by my calculations the projectile should have launched at least one and a half times faster. I had a good idea why.
Fewer mana roads than a normal 5-Class mage means insufficient output. Increasing my mana roads is the priority.