Chapter 640: Who Learned Black Magic
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 640: Who Learned Black Magic
Evil grows from weakness.
It burrows into the cracks of those who struggle to survive, extending a masked hand to the abandoned as they flail. Gazing up from the mire at a shadow against the sky, anyone can look like an angel. The chosen weak then devote their bodies and souls to propping up the wicked.
Thus, evil gives the abandoned attention and affection, and in return, it uses them as hosts to fester in the shadows.
This is why evil thrives in the weak and squalid places, and why the established order agonizes over how to handle the weak.
But even if the order calls it evil…
Is it truly evil to those the order has abandoned?
*
The Military State’s Bio-receptor is a rather complex device. It interprets biological information into magical data, processes and engraves it as an Arch-Avatar for use, and grants the user eligibility for the various magical benefits provided by the State.
Though “magical benefits” really means being used as a living mana supply, but I digress.
In truth, compared to the Bio-receptor’s many functions, Standard Magic is little more than a bonus feature. Even in the Military State, with its universal education, those who can properly use Standard Magic are exceedingly rare. After all, what the State needs is magical military power, not commoners who can use black magic. Standard Magic constitutes only a small part of the Bio-receptor’s functions.
Therefore, if one were to remove all potential for misuse from the Bio-receptor and focus with pure, good intentions on ‘Standard Magic’ alone, opening that pass is quite simple.
The basic principle of Standard Magic is to liken the five fingers to the five elements, then form a simple magic circle through chants and hand signs.
Though its structure is heterogeneous, the human body still contains mana, and this internal mana is easier to handle than the natural mana outside the body. While it is difficult to form a systematic structure with heterogeneous internal mana, the bones, blood vessels, and nerves of the fingers themselves possess a tower-like structure.
Building a structure with mana from scratch is difficult, but it becomes much easier if a structure already exists. First, you form a hand sign to block some of the blood vessels and nerves. Then, with a bit of mental focus, you recite the chant, causing mana to flow through specific vessels and form a structure within the fingers.
In other words, it is black magic that is remarkably close to white magic, using nerves and blood vessels as a magic circle and ignited by the internal mana present in every human.
At the very least, one must know how to flow mana through their nerves and blood vessels, which makes a procedure to open a pass and directly channel mana essential. The Military State drills a hole in the wrist, but I have no need for such crude methods.
I can simply use the Divine of Blood and the Divine of Lightning. I can create a clean pass with no side effects whatsoever.
The foolish mage of the old kingdom.
The magic created by the Mage Marshal, Prelvior, for the foolish—that is Standard Magic.
And using it, I shall grant the wishes of the ignorant masses who long to become members of the Mage Federation.
Missionary Casas did not report Richard. He was a good enough man, befitting a missionary. In the meantime, I continued my lessons, moving between the academy and the out-of-bounds district.
My teaching was so exceptional that, regardless of which school district they came from, every talented child awakened their ability to sense mana. I had accomplished in a mere two weeks what others had failed to do for years. The voices praising my achievements grew louder by the day.
However, the brighter the light shone, the more people fell into despair.
“Teacher…! D-do you have a moment…!”
My ability is beyond doubt. That fact has already been proven by countless successes.
So, what of those who still hadn't awakened? The inferior students who, despite my teachings, still couldn't grasp it?
Was the teaching method not right for them?
Were they unlucky?
Were they not feeling well?
All such excuses were refuted by the very existence of ‘me’.
“M-my child couldn’t sense mana. Saturn next door, and Neil next to him, they all sensed it! But my child has been in your class since the very first day!”
Tsk, what a pity.
But everyone is different, and talent varies wildly.
There are children who are academically bright and learn quickly, but are utterly hopeless at sensing mana.
There are those who can vaguely sense mana, but it doesn't align with any particular school, leaving them in limbo.
There are also children who awaken their mana sense but simply lack the intelligence to understand the principles behind it.
And then there were the many inferior students who were simply, purely, without talent. Who understood nothing.
“What’s so different about my child compared to them? Why can’t he do it…?!”
For them, blaming their environment was no longer an option. They would sooner envy the out-of-bounds. At least those people were unscratched lottery tickets. These inferior students… they were losing tickets.
I replied with an indifferent expression.
“You already know the reason. Must I be the one to explain it?”
Your child has no talent. Even I cannot awaken them.
I conveyed the cold truth with my expression.
“Hk!”
At my cold words, the parent’s gaze flickered to the person behind them.
A child stood there, hunched over. Though they had done nothing wrong, the child’s heart was filled with guilt. For being inadequate, for failing to meet expectations, for being unable to repay their parents’ investment.
I’m sorry for being born this way. They were apologizing from behind their pleading parent.
But an apology made in the heart goes unheard, and the parent, overcome with despair, cried out.
“How… I gave birth to seven, and not one! Not a single one could do it! They’re all just useless mouths to feed…!”
The mother wailed.
The border school districts. Barring the out-of-bounds, these were the poorest and most destitute people. The only way to overcome this hardship and climb the social ladder was to win the lottery.
A man and woman of age meet, and after a ten-month wait, a single lottery ticket is issued. To think that after nearly ten years of scratching, it would be a loser.
And they had drawn seven of them. It was the end result of a greed that exceeded their station.
“No. We still have the youngest!”
“Teacher, I’ll bring our youngest to the academy! There’s still hope for the youngest!”
Remembering their one remaining lottery ticket, the parents clung to me again. I had little interest, but I asked out of courtesy.
“How old are they?”
“…Eight, eight years old! The child has even learned to read!”
They’re actually six, so they’ve padded it by two years. They can’t even read properly. As if that would work.
“I’m afraid there’s no time. I am to return to the Floating Castle in a fortnight.”
I turned to leave after that single remark, but the mother roughly grabbed my shoulder.
“Y-you can’t! We haven’t gotten any results yet…!”
In the Mage Federation, a newborn child is an unscratched lottery ticket. A ticket whose prize is determined by their talent for magic.
Recalling that fact, I glanced at the hand gripping my shoulder.
“Take your hand off me.”
Still not letting go? Are you prepared to use force? Well, not that it matters. I don’t need magic to shake off a person’s hand.
I simply knocked her hand away. That was all it took for her hand to be flung off. A shrill scream rang out, drawing the attention of the crowd.
Despair, resignation, fear, contempt. A whirlwind of negative emotions.
I brushed off my clothes, then turned back to face the sobbing mother.
This yearning for magic, this stubbornness, this obsession—it was all bestowed by this order. Well, I have no intention of denying it. It’s only natural to adopt society’s goals as one’s own dream.
“I cannot teach the untalented to master white magic, but I can teach them something like the relatively simple Standard Magic.”
And so, I will grant their dream.
“Do you wish to learn magic?”
The parents nodded their heads desperately. It was quite the frantic sight, as if they realized this was their last chance.
The parents who didn't want to be cast out as out-of-bounds pleaded, and I granted their wish as well.
Similar situations played out dozens of times over.
The ‘out-of-bounds’ surprisingly did not seek me out. Those who had already given up on magic didn’t know what Standard Magic was or why it would be helpful, and they couldn’t even be bothered to find out. Only a few young people like Richard, who still harbored dreams and hopes, came to me to learn Standard Magic.
It was the inferior students from the school districts who were more proactive. Driven by the fear that they would never learn magic again once I was gone, they accepted whatever was offered, be it Standard Magic or anything else.
A short chant, a simple hand sign, and an instantly manifesting evocation-class spell. Standard Magic was easy to handle and even useful. Its ability to substitute for the ignition mana of magical tools was particularly highlighted. Even the ignorant masses, who knew nothing, could significantly reduce their mana consumption with Standard Magic.
The Military State’s technology had gathered all the good things in the world and forged them with pure efficiency, only to be imbued with malice at its core. From that, I extracted only the malice, creating a pure tool.
The ignorant masses rejoiced at obtaining the tool of magic. Whether it was Standard Magic or something else, magic was magic. The knowledge they had acquired was precious and valuable. The common folk flaunted it. How foolish.
The news had not yet reached the great magic families preparing for the descent of the Floating Castle.
But it would, soon enough.