Everyone Makes Mistakes
Everyone makes mistakes. But unlike adults, who can take responsibility for the messes they create, children lack the capacity to do so on their own. That was why it was only natural for a young child to lean on an adult whenever trouble arose. Guardians existed precisely to clean up those mistakes and teach their charges not to repeat them.
"Completely wrecked. Beyond repair."
Kain muttered indifferently as he shook the mana restriction cuffs, now riddled with cracks. The broken device dangled in front of Arina's eyes behind his thick glasses. She scratched the back of her neck with an awkward smile.
"At this point, it'd be more efficient to just make a new one."
In human terms, the brain was completely fried. A body could be patched up no matter how broken it became. Severed limbs could be replaced with someone else's. Destroyed nerves could be bypassed by inserting artificial egos. Even a stopped heart could be forced to beat again by dragging its unconscious rhythm into conscious control. But when the brain was gone, even Kain had no answer. If the spell formulas themselves couldn't be calculated, what solution could possibly exist?
The same applied to the mana restriction cuffs now swinging from his hand.
The core formula is completely destroyed.
That mage—what was his name, Aaron?—must have landed a direct hit on the device's weakest point. Irreparable. As he'd said, it wasn't that it couldn't be fixed, but replacing it would be ten times more practical in every way: time, cost, and technical feasibility.
"Well, now's not the time. I'll get you a new one once we head up to the capital."
The Majoan would probably send something decent if asked. Why couldn't he have just sent a few last time? Kain grumbled inwardly about the Majoan's stinginess and casually tossed the broken cuffs over his shoulder.
"Ah?!"
Arina cried out in alarm as the cuffs traced a perfect arc and landed cleanly inside the trash bin behind them. She rushed over in a panic and carefully fished them out, as delicately as an archaeologist unearthing a fossil.
Why bother retrieving something that's already broken? Kain watched her with mild curiosity. Arina rarely showed displeasure, but now she glared at him, cheeks puffed in rare indignation.
"How could you just throw it away?!"
"It's broken. What's the point of keeping it?"
Of course, the Magic Tower supposedly exchanged broken artifacts for trash bags or batteries, but being frugal like that wouldn't make anyone richer. Might as well toss it.
"That's not what I mean!"
Arina shook her head vigorously. She began carefully removing the emerald turtle keyring still attached to the cuffs.
Ah. That was the issue.
Now that he thought about it, there had been a keyring dangling from the end. The combination of handcuffs and a cute green turtle had felt odd at first, but over time it had become familiar enough that he no longer noticed it.
"This thing is important..."
She clutched it tightly with both hands and shot him a cute glare. Her eyes reminded him of a baby rabbit whose carrot had just been stolen right in front of it. As the one who had given the gift, should he feel pleased that she treasured it so much, or exasperated that she was glaring at the giver?
"If you lose it, I'll just buy you another."
"That's not the problem!"
"Then what is?"
"Never mind."
"...?"
Honestly, this uncle! Arina's cheeks swelled like a pufferfish. It wasn't the object itself that mattered. It was the memory attached to it—the gift her uncle had bought while thinking of her, the day she had reunited with her mother after years apart, the day her uncle had protected her. That was why it was precious. Yet Kain saw it as nothing more than a turtle keyring, completely devoid of sentiment or romance. From Arina's perspective, that was disappointing. Of course, the T-type Kain would never understand the F-type Arina's feelings.
"Whatever. The mana restriction cuffs can be replaced in the capital. What's important right now is how we're going to get through the Academy Tournament."
Kain steered the conversation back on track and looked Arina straight in the eye.
"So, tell me—have you gotten much stronger?"
"Huh?"
Arina blinked, momentarily confused by the abrupt question, then thought it over.
"Um... I think so."
She had grown significantly compared to before. Enough that she could now call herself a skilled 3-star mage rather than a mediocre one. Even among the most talented mages in the Academy Tournament, she stood out. Though she lacked confidence in herself, she could admit she had become much stronger than her past self.
Of course, she still wasn't sure what standard Kain was using to measure "stronger."
"Changing your combat style on the spot would be impossible."
Kain acknowledged that as well. Yesterday's fight against Chris had fully awakened her talent. But in his eyes, she was still only half a mage. While her body learned physical skills quickly, her mind was painfully slow at understanding and internalizing new concepts. Adapting her fighting style overnight after a single incident was something even Kain himself could do—but expecting it from Arina was like asking a housecat to do the housework.
"So if we have to change something, we'll have to mix and match what you've already got and apply it differently."
"How?"
Is this the solution he's offering? Arina listened intently, her expression serious.
Honestly, I don't even know if this will work.
What he was about to teach the kid was a magical application of something he'd once developed half as a joke. Its foundation lay in curse techniques—interfering directly or indirectly with an opponent's spell formula through spoken incantations. In magical terms, it belonged to the dispel category. Once he'd grown strong enough, he'd stopped using it, preferring to simply overpower opponents with raw force rather than rely on technique. Still, when used properly, it remained a versatile and effective skill.
She happens to meet all the conditions needed to use it.
Fluid Magic Circles—the system he'd given Arina—had originated from a fusion of curse magic and necromancy, a reworking of dark magic into a proper magical framework. Since curse techniques formed part of its base, proper use could produce effects similar to what he'd once done. She wouldn't be able to manifest it through spoken words like he had, but she could implement it through magic and directly strike opposing spells. Yesterday's battle against that annoyingly shiny kid named Chris had already taught her how to snipe enemy magic. More importantly, today Arina had successfully hacked through the massive spell barrier inscribed in the virtual world.
Curses. Direct strikes against enemy magic. Hacking. Arina had already achieved all three conditions he needed. That was why it was possible. What he intended to teach her was something her body had already half-mastered.
Well, if it doesn't work, it doesn't work.
There was no other option anyway. He couldn't exactly hand her a useful artifact and personally inscribe various dark magic formulas onto it for her.
Honestly, that would be simpler, but...
Even as a dark mage himself, he couldn't bring himself to recommend it to the kid, considering the image dark mages held across the continent.
With that thought, Kain began explaining his idea to Arina. The more she listened, the more the bright expression on her face gradually darkened.
"Is... that even possible?"
The difficulty sounded absurd just from the description—far beyond simply shaping magic circles, the foundation of Fluid Magic Circles that she'd spent so long mastering. The fact that her opponents would be 4-star mages like Chris or Aaron only made the situation feel more hopeless.
"It's not like we have any other choice."
She couldn't instantly draw high-level magic circles on the fly. Using magic circles instead of regular spells would limit her to 1-star or 2-star magic at best. She hadn't studied spell formulas related to 3-star magic like Zeon had. The only way for a fragile magic-circle-based mage to fight on equal footing against 4-star mages was the method Kain was about to teach her.
"Then we'll just have to try and see what happens."
He was right. Her uncle's words were undeniably logical. More than that, Arina knew how rare it was for Kain—who barely did anything at home—to voluntarily teach someone something. The fact that he was stepping forward at all was entirely for her sake.
"Please teach me."
She couldn't cause trouble for the children. And she couldn't let her uncle's consideration go to waste. If that was the case, she would do everything in her power to learn—even if it meant staying up all night.
Keeping the kid awake all night doesn't sit right with me, though.
Maybe he should artificially adjust the time flow a bit? Stretching it too far might negatively affect her emotional state, but... well, he could always fine-tune it as needed.
"You'd better learn it well, kid. As you know, I'm not exactly good at teaching people."
"Yes!"
At Arina's energetic reply, Kain let out a small chuckle. Then he casually glanced toward the window of their lodging.
Surveillance?
He could feel someone's gaze. The stare made no attempt to hide itself, openly declaring that it was watching this place. The fact was somewhat irritating, but at the same time, Kain felt intrigued. The karma embedded in that gaze was quite unusual.
Is it one of Tugwi's replacements?
He already knew Pride was operating nearby. That gaze was probably meant to keep him in check. Likely someone sent to take over Tugwi's role in Vivaldi Territory.
But it's not the Empress.
That was what made it so ridiculous. Someone who wasn't even an Absolute Being trying to fill Tugwi's shoes. Kain snorted at the thought and looked away from the gaze.
Things are about to start, huh.
The fact that they were watching him meant that Pride and the Immortals would soon be clashing in earnest. Well, it was a story Kain had zero interest in. He had no intention of getting involved unless it affected him directly. Unless, like Tugwi, they barged straight into his daily life.
Dark Magic: Simple Sub-Dimension.
The moment Arina blinked, the scenery transformed in an instant. A dim world, so dark it made the fluorescent lights seem pointless. It wasn't that nothing could be seen—the thick darkness simply made the brain refuse to process the view before her eyes.
"I usually hate rushing kids with early education or private tutoring, but today's an emergency. We'll do a crash course."
His eyes were as bored and listless as ever, yet the atmosphere he gave off made Arina wonder if this was really the uncle she knew.
"Yes! Please teach me again!"
She answered with renewed determination. At her loud voice, Kain adjusted his slipping glasses and smirked.
"Yeah."
Arina's training, and the full-scale clash between Pride and the Immortals. A long night had begun in which neither side would interfere with the other.