Chapter 18: Magic is No Joke
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 18: Magic is No Joke
With that shout, the Regressor reached out her hand. In that instant, her arm was severed at the elbow.
No, it wasn’t severed. Looking again, I saw the Regressor had torn open a rift in space and plunged her hand into it. I could see the upper part of her arm, but everything below the elbow had vanished somewhere. It was as if she had stuck her arm out a window.
The only difference was that she was reaching into empty air.
A personal pocket dimension. The Regressor possessed a treasure of which there was only one in the world.
She rummaged around in the spatial rift for a moment before pulling out something round and hard.
“Alright! Let’s see just how good a teacher you are!”
With a flick, the object she’d pulled out flew toward me. I casually reached out to catch it, but the heavy weight of it snapped my hand back. The shock was enough to nearly pull my whole body forward.
I think I might have slightly strained a ligament. After barely managing to hold onto it, I glared at the Regressor and looked down at the object in my hand.
And I doubted my eyes.
“My god. It’s a gold coin. And a high-purity Alchemic Gold coin worth over ten thousand Alke. How did you…?”
In the age when alchemists could freely transmute matter, not only currency but the very value of goods fluctuated wildly, and people could no longer trust even their own assets. Not even gold could hold its value, and a tide of anxiety swelled as people worried their fortunes could turn into scrap metal at any moment.
It was then that Alchemic Gold appeared like a comet.
It was a currency of absolute value, minted from the very resources needed for alchemy.
The Regressor, who had tossed it to me as if giving alms, replied with a bored expression.
“It’s my personal property.”
“Shouldn’t all your personal assets have been confiscated the moment you were arrested?”
“It was in my pocket dimension. They never noticed it,” the Regressor stated flatly.
A pocket dimension. Just like the Regressor to collect all sorts of treasures; even her pocket was an incomparable prize.
I held the Alchemic Gold to my nose and sniffed.
“It’s not fake, is it…?”
“I have a pocket dimension. Do you really think I’d stoop to carrying around fake gold coins?”
She had a point. A pocket dimension was a precious treasure you couldn’t buy even with a hundred Alchemic Gold coins. I hadn’t really suspected it, anyway. It was just part of my exclamation of awe.
Besides, Alchemic Gold was the most difficult currency to replicate, as it held intrinsic value.
After alchemy became commonplace, every nation on the continent tried everything they could to prevent counterfeit currency made through alchemy.
Naturally, the easiest solution was to make the currency itself valuable. This Alchemic Gold was a prime example. The very material it was made of was incredibly valuable as an alchemical ingredient.
Alchemic Gold was accepted anywhere in the world and was sometimes used as a material for magic circles. With knowledge of alchemy, one could even break down this currency to create magical tools.
The ultimate currency, convertible to both cash and goods: Alchemic Gold.
With ten thousand Alke… I might even be able to remake all the magic tools the Military State confiscated from me!
“So, your answer?”
I slipped the gold coin into my pocket. The moment I did, I forgot all about it.
That’s how it works with gold coins. The moment one enters your pocket, all prior grievances are forgotten. That’s the law of the back alleys. It’s not for nothing they have a saying about washing your hands in a golden basin.
“Ahem! Did you really think a proud instructor of the Military State would be swayed by a bribe? A grave miscalculation! In accordance with the Improper Solicitation Act, I will be confiscating this money!”
The Regressor let out a hollow, incredulous laugh, then pulled two more gold coins from thin air and dangled them.
“Teach Tyrkanzyaka properly, and I’ll give you two more.”
“Separately from that, I was actually feeling like I wanted to teach you about magic ever since I woke up this morning. It just felt like a magical kind of day. Let’s learn about magic today.”
It was too much money to say otherwise. I immediately stood before the teacher’s desk, ready to begin the lesson.
Meanwhile, the Regressor was trying to convince the vampire of something.
“…Tyrkanzyaka, I’m telling you again, it’s not that I couldn’t go, it’s that I didn’t go. Look at him. Even with a secondary school education, he moves to your will for a single gold coin…”
Whatever she said didn’t matter. All I needed was for those gold coins to end up in my pocket. I set my pride aside for a moment, put on a shameless face, and began the class.
“Magic is, fundamentally, the act of imposing rules upon the world… but saying it like that, you probably won’t understand, will you?”
What the vampire wanted was to satisfy her curiosity. She wasn’t looking for a tedious journey of learning from the basics. So, let’s ditch the theory. I’ll explain it as concisely as possible.
“The most important thing is to construct your own world. But that’s easier said than done, isn’t it? It’s not something you can just do on command. That’s why, in the secondary schools that ordinary people attend, they teach magic that uses the body as a medium. The body can be considered a kind of world, completely separated into an inside and an outside.”
I raised a finger and drew up my mana. I could feel it moving through my veins. I swept my right hand up my left arm, then tapped my palm as if playing a tune.
“Time for a demonstration from a trained professional. Now, watch. Set, Re, Check.”
With the right gestures, incantations, and arrangement of mana, even a complete novice could manifest magic. It was a product of the rationalism created by the Military State.
Level 0 magic.
“Bolt.”
A current of electricity sparked from my index finger. I created a spark in the air, then rubbed it against my arm to discharge it.
“Fahrenheit.”
A flame erupted from my middle finger. It was formless, flaring out in all directions, so I had to shake my finger to extinguish it.
“Aqus.”
My ring finger froze over. It’s a spell for gathering moisture, but its drawback is that your finger can freeze if you’re not careful. I cupped it with my other hand to thaw it.
“Pascal.”
A pop of air burst from my pinky.
Whew, my skills from being first in my class at secondary school (with the help of mind-reading) haven’t gone anywhere. I spread my arms and declared proudly.
“This much is possible. It’s magic fired through the fingers, using the body as a medium. Its advantage is that you can use it without having to construct a Spiritual World!”
[…Excuse me, but your fingers are bleeding.]
The vampire exclaimed, pointing at my hand. I looked down at the fingers I had used for the magic.
My index finger, which had used electricity, was twitching.
My middle finger, which had shot fire, was blackened and scorched.
My ring finger, where ice had formed, was swollen.
My pinky, which had created wind, was red and shriveled.
Ah, hiss. Now that I think about it, it hurts. The four types of pain hitting me at once were indescribable.
But showing that I was in pain would ruin my image, so I put on a brave face, my expression unchanging as I spoke.
“I told you, didn’t I? Magic is the act of imposing rules upon the world.”
[Yes.]
“I imposed rules using my body as a medium. On my index finger, the rule that static electricity builds up more strongly. On my middle finger, the rule that fire ignites at a much lower temperature. On my ring finger, the rule that water adheres more easily. And on my pinky, the rule that wind moves more fiercely than usual.”
Basic magic that only causes the phenomenon itself within a localized area. This was Level 0 magic.
I spread my fingers to show her the evidence.
“This is the result.”
The vampire showed great curiosity.
[It is certainly fascinating. But must your fingers always be injured?]
“It’s unavoidable when using the body as a medium. A conflict is bound to occur where the rules change, and my body just happened to be that boundary. So I’m the one who has to pay the price.”
I hid my stinging fingers behind my back and continued my explanation.
“Body-mediation magic is incomplete for this reason. That’s why most people seek other mediums besides their bodies. Some use objects like staffs or wands, others use familiars. It’s said that once you reach a certain level, you can manipulate the world itself, but I’ve yet to see that. The more skilled you are, the wider the area you can affect, and the more mysterious and powerful phenomena you can create.”
Just as I finished my explanation.
“That’s a textbook secondary school-level education.”
I was getting used to the Regressor cutting in. I shrugged and replied.
“Well, it is a secondary school-level education.”
“Right. Not very useful, and pretty worthless. It’s even weak.”
“Because it’s the basics. In math terms, this is the multiplication table.”
“True. You’ve certainly mastered the basics. For Level 0 spell, the speed and execution are surprising. But it seems to me that someone who can only use body-mediation magic won’t be able to show anything more than that, will they?”
Her condescending sneer was filled with a childish sense of superiority.
No way. Is a Regressor actually feeling competitive with me right now? How absurd. You’re a pro who’s repeated the same life thirteen times. I’m just an amateur on the stage of my own life. If you want to compete with me, have the decency to come back in your first timeline.
“Magic isn’t my major.”
“Hmph. Magic isn’t my major either, but I can use up to strategy-level magic, you know?”
“Ah. I see.”
“And you’re stuck at evocation-class magic. Heh heh. I guess this is the difference in talent, huh?”
Honestly, isn’t she embarrassed? Does she have to talk about the magic she painstakingly learned by dying over and over as if it were her own natural talent?
Does she have a conscience or not?
“If you achieved that all on your own, then yes, it would be a difference in talent.”
I looked at the Regressor with cold eyes, my words laced with insinuation. She flinched and made an excuse in her mind.
‘…I learned it by paying with my life over multiple regressions. But regressing is a skill too. Bragging a little won’t hurt! That’s right! Regression is a skill, a part of my specs!’
Thankfully, she still had enough of a conscience to make excuses for herself. A truly shameless person wouldn’t even bother with excuses. In that sense, it seemed the Regressor was still capable of feeling shame.
The Regressor left it at that and turned to the vampire.
“Tyrkanzyaka. I’ll teach you magic. I’m much better at it than that loser.”
The vampire responded cautiously. As if it was truly regrettable to ask such a question, but she had no choice.
[But, didn’t you say you only attended elementary school?]
“I said I didn’t go because I didn’t need to!”
[Ah, right. Of course. It’s alright, child. I don’t mind at all.]
The vampire meant it as a considerate remark. However, her consideration was so profound that even the recipient noticed it. The Regressor’s hands trembled.
‘Right now… I’m starting to intensely understand how that man felt when he kept calling the vampire an old hag…!’
I told you. She’s an old woman, for better or for worse. The vampire glanced at me as she dragged out her words.
[Must you really go? If you show me here….]
“Magic is my trump card, a world I’ve built from the ground up. It’s my strength, but also my weakness. I can’t just show it to anyone.”
[But he just showed me.]
“Don’t compare me to that trash! That’s just standard State magic. It’s a universal spell anyone can use if they meet certain conditions! My magic is unique magic that only I can use in this world!”
[Ah, um. I see. I understand. Let us go.]
The Regressor stomped out of the room, and the pitch-black coffin floated along behind her. Even so, she kept glancing back at me with a lingering look.
‘Isn’t magic that anyone can use… more impressive? Hmm. I’m not sure. There is so much I do not know.’
She hasn’t wasted her years, I see. How wise.
‘Even so, being already dead… I suppose I cannot use even that magic.’
…Well, I hope the two of them have fun. The Regressor must be excited to teach magic, but she’s free to be disappointed. It’s less work for me, so I’m fine with it….
Huh? Wait a minute. I forgot something.
Ah, right. My money! My two Alchemic Gold coins!
I rushed after them, shouting.
“Trainee Shei! You have to give me my money!”
But all I got back was an annoyed reply.
“Tyrkanzyaka is going to learn from me, so why should I pay you?”
“You said you’d give me two Alchemic Gold coins! Are you going back on your promise?”
“Promise?”
The Regressor spun around, looked at me, and smirked.
“Let me give you a piece of advice. No matter who you made a promise with, or how much you were supposed to get… it’s not your money until it’s in your pocket.”
“What kind of nonsense is that! Where’s the logic in that! If you said you’d give it to me, you have to give it to me!”
“Be content with the down payment. That’s a lot of money too… for you, at least.”
The Regressor left me with a faint smile and walked away with a light step.
The simplest word to describe the thought I was reading from her would be ‘Nyah-nyah.’ Thoroughly provoked, I stomped back into the classroom.
“How dare she trick me!”
I’m the one who scams people, not the one who gets scammed. And what’s more, up until the halfway point, she had fully intended to just give it to me! Then she changed her mind after listening to my lecture!
The kind of people I hate most are fickle ones like her. Those who don’t make plans and just roll the dice in their head from moment to moment. How am I supposed to know what they’re thinking when their thoughts change from one second to the next! The waves of a stormy sea at night would be easier to read than her.
“Damn it. To think I’d be on the receiving end of those words!”
For some reason, I was twice as angry. Just as I slammed the classroom door shut.
“Woof.”
I heard a discontented bark. I turned my head. Azzy was sitting in the back, belly to the floor, still sulking but wagging her tail.
A clear sign she was getting bored and wanted some attention. You don’t need to read minds to know what a dog is thinking.
Annoyance flared, and I waved a hand dismissively.
“What. What do you want?”
“Woof.”
“We’re done for today. You go back to your room too.”
“Woof.”
“What? You think you’re the only one in a bad mood? I’m in a bad mood too. My fingers hurt right now, so I’m not in the mood to play. Just go…”
As I was answering curtly, Azzy got up and slowly approached me. She was still making it obvious she was displeased about something, but she came over anyway.
You fickle beast. So you know you did nothing wrong, but you want to make up? As if I’d accept.
“Can’t you see my fingers? I told you they’re hurt!”
I shoved my four discolored fingers in her face. Azzy looked at them with somewhat prim eyes, then leaned in and started licking them.
“What are you doing? Licking them because they’re hurt?”
Azzy didn’t answer, just kept lapping away. Her smooth tongue licked up my fingers. The warm, soft sensation massaged them. I was about to scowl, but seeing the gentle gesture, my expression softened.
“You…”
When an animal is wounded, it licks its wounds. To prevent infection, because it itches, or because it’s the only thing it can do.
But for the Beast King, a conceptual being, the act of licking itself possesses concrete healing power. It’s not effective on all wounds, but it’s said to be more potent than applying a potion.
“You’re healing me.”
“Woof.”
Azzy replied with a small bark and meticulously licked my remaining fingers. Her essence may be that of a dog, but her appearance was human, and her small, plump tongue delved into every nook and cranny.
People often compare anger to a fire, and it seems they’re not wrong. As my fingers got wet, both the pain and my anger subsided.
Sigh. Right. What’s the point of being angry?
“Yeah. Dogs are better than people.”
I pulled my hand back. A long string of thick saliva stretched between us. My fingers, glistening with spit, were already healed and back to normal.
Man’s greatest enemy is man, and a dog has always been an ally. I let out a small laugh.
“Right! So what if you sneak some food at night! If you’re hungry, you should eat. The food was made to be eaten, after all! Right?”
“Woof.”
“Alright. I’m feeling generous! Let’s open a can of meat today!”
“Meat?”
Azzy’s eyes sparkled. She shot up, bouncing as if her sulking just moments ago had been a lie.
“That’s right! Meat for lunch today!”
“Woof! I like meat!”
“Let’s go, to the cafeteria!”
“Awoooooo!”
I followed Azzy as she excitedly ran on ahead.
Forget about the lost money. If I efficiently break down one Alchemic Gold coin, I can make a whole deck of cards. If I’m lucky, I might even be able to enchant one of them.
Besides, the Regressor is bound to fail anyway. I’ll just collect the debt with interest then.
Heading to the cafeteria, I cheerfully opened a can of meat and cooked it with all my skill. And then.
“You damn mutt! Stop picking out just the meat!”
“Yelp?! Awoooooo!”
I’ve made a decision. From now on, dog food is strictly beans.