Chapter 42
Chapter 42
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: Goblin Hunt ~Part 2~
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"At the levels below Transcendence, they look at three main things: Plenitude, Attunement, and Resonance."
I happened to hear a bit more about these realms from Pingbalrez while tailing the Crimson Magic Tower mage. Apparently, the stages below Transcendence aren't rigidly divided; they judge based on how well you've achieved these three elements.
Plenitude. Do you possess enough mana to fill your body to the brim?
"Only once you've achieved Plenitude can you start releasing mana externally. Sword aura is a prime example."
Attunement. Do you have mana manipulation skills above a certain threshold?
"It's whether you can reinforce your body with mana or not. If your control is lacking, you might just blow out your joints by accident."
Resonance. Have you awakened the sense to read mana flows?
"Things like reading the signs of an incoming spell or predicting an enemy's attack trajectory. It's usually something you build up through real combat."
"How does that tie into mercenary ranks... and the stuff the Crimson Magic Tower mage mentioned about stars and whatnot?"
"Achieve one of them for 1-star, two for 2-star. Like that."
It was just like slapping stars on a gacha game character—easy to remember.
"1-star is 4th grade, 2-star is 3rd grade, 3-star is 2nd-grade mercenaries."
Nope.
"...Think the Mercenary Association would change the rank names if we petitioned them?"
"They've been getting petitions every year for the last fifty. '1-star is 4th grade with a copper badge, 3-star is 2nd grade with a gold badge—please standardize the damn system.'"
I briefly considered printing out a high-res photo of bunny girl Centra and slipping it to the Second Prince as a bribe. Even the Mercenary Association might unify their system for that.
But the moment I sent over Centra's naughty pics, all I could see was the Second Prince marching an army to hang me. Better to keep some thoughts beautiful by leaving them unacted upon.
"How far along is the crazy mage?"
"Above average."
"I mean in terms of realms."
"Lemme check right now and let you know."
First up: Plenitude.
Just lightly drawing up my mana made it stream out from my palm in thick tendrils. Since I'd already let it out, I twisted it into a rose shape, then turned it into a pigeon and sent it flying off.
All those daily doses of the Magic Tower Master's yawns had paid off. My mana capacity had shattered the meter ages ago.
"That's... Attunement achieved too."
"Body reinforcement, right?"
"When do mages ever need to reinforce their bodies? For us, there's a separate Attunement Achievement Test spell, but you'd breeze through it no problem."
"Then last one's Resonance. How do you test that?"
"Want me to?"
"Go ahead... Gah!"
Before I could finish, Pingbalrez's fist whistled past my arm. It hurt. I stared at her in stunned silence.
"You asked for it. Looks like you haven't hit Resonance. Your reaction was slow."
Pingbalrez bolted without looking back. For the first time ever, I wrapped my body in mana reinforcement and cranked hypnotic spells to 100x sensitivity in both hands as I chased after Pingbalrez.
The Crimson Magic Tower mage watched our flaming pursuit of rage with a look of utter disdain.
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In the end, my realm was pegged as below Transcendence but at least 3-star.
In the Mercenary Association's convoluted ranking system, that translated to top-tier 2nd-grade gold-badge level, same as Tearstain Guy.
I couldn't read Pingbalrez's punch, but the Crimson Magic Tower mage's mana flows were crystal clear. Higher-realm folks' flows and tells are harder to spot, it seems.
Pingbalrez herself said, "Failing to read a superior's attack isn't shameful."
As a bonus to the chase, we scouted the area too. No sign of the mercenaries anywhere they'd likely hide. Just traces of a few people passing through.
By the time we looped back to the Crimson Magic Tower mage, the goblin village was right in front of us.
The Crimson Magic Tower mage greeted us warmly.
"Why didn't you just keep going... And why are you getting carried?!"
"The young master can't run for more than ten minutes a day."
Unfair.
It was my mistake not knowing mana-based body reinforcement puts massive strain on the muscles. I thought good control would smooth it out, but with my anchovy-level physique, I couldn't sustain an intense chase-slash-scout.
So here I was, piggybacked on Pingbalrez like a total chump.
The goblin village sat in a plains area fringed by forest.
Their buildings were simple wood frames draped in beast hides, decked out with primitive decorations like patterns dyed with natural pigments.
They looked exactly like you'd imagine from the name: green-skinned dwarves with big pointy noses. Their weapons were pathetic too—sharpened sticks or big rocks.
Really unimpressive monsters.
If there'd been just a hundred or so less of them.
"...No wonder the village youths couldn't drive them off."
Ten of them, I could've handled with some angry hoe swings. But over a hundred? No choice but to call in mercenaries. I snuck a glance at the Crimson Magic Tower mage. She knew how many there were and still charged in confidently?
"......"
"She looks a little spooked."
"I think she's a bit spooked."
"I'm not spooked!"
Her freakout button must've been hit, because she aimed her staff at the center of the goblin village and was about to blast away. I stopped her for now. Traditional hunts follow the mob-pull then AoE barrage order, right?
"Time for the illusion mage to shine."
Plus, I wanted to field-test it. Illusion magic's weaknesses are as follows:
1) No direct lethality, so it rarely kills outright.
2) Variables, like that blind ogre homeruning Tearstain Guy.
3) Useless if blocked, like my bitter loss to the cleaning golem.
"But if it gets through, it packs insane crowd control."
"You don't know the humiliation of losing to a cleaning golem..."
I still had no fix for 1). Rough ideas like implanting the sensation of my own death or inducing heart-stopping terror, but those were basically "please just die."
2) and 3) I'd patched.
Illusion magic aims to pierce mental barriers. Those barriers instinctively block anything "harmful"... like antivirus software.
Think of it as the eternal virus-vs-antivirus war. I drew inspiration from that arms race to craft my spells.
"Trojan Horse, Spell Fragmentation, Echoing Reverberation, Reassembly."
Wrap the malicious illusion data in an innocuous shell. Split it into multiples. Read the enemy's movements and plant it in their heads—switched to an AoE cast for the situation. Let terrain reflections multiply the fragments.
The fragmented, disguised spells mean nothing on their own. On impact, reassemble the pieces. It's a hassle, but penetration jumps dozens of times over.
Anyone without illusion countermeasures or a weak will eats this full force.
For variables in illusion magic, counter actively. Controlling players who break script is the GM's job, right?
"Trembling Heart, Ominous Premonition, Mind Domination, Marionette."
We're storytelling. Goblin A suddenly realizes he's had a brilliant idea. To reshape goblin society, he gathers the others and starts talking...
Goblin B has a crush on Goblin A. To confess her long-held love, she plans a surprise: round up as many goblins as possible for a public proposal...
"They're gathering."
"Yeah, gathering nicely."
"Wh-what did you just do?!"
The Crimson Magic Tower mage gawked at me. Hard to tell what shocked her. The efficiency of corralling goblins with eight spells?
"No, you just fragmented and... How? Nobody's got ten brains."
Pure admiration. I shrugged without thinking. Then generously handed her the finisher—the best part.
"Goblins rounded up. Blast 'em with one big shot."
"...Fine, whatever you are, goblins first. Fierce Breath of the Flame Spirit!"
Click.
A scorching jet of flame slammed into the huddled, swirling goblin mass embracing each other. The acrid stench of roasting protein hit hard as flaming goblins screamed and scattered.
I eased off control as much as I could.
"...Flame magic is straight-up broken."
"You round up that many goblins in some wild way and that's what you say?!"
Even mopping up stragglers, no mercenaries in sight. Smart enough to know we're stronger and bail, huh.
Better that way.
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Selbia. From Sangebi Village. 19 years old. Virgin. Affiliated with the Crimson Magic Tower. 2-star realm. Admitted to the Academy.
A string of dazzling titles. Getting into a Magic Tower young meant genius-level talent, sealed by her Academy acceptance.
The Academy guarantees growth.
That's why they risk bunching up all the nobles' kids to run it. Even a talentless dullard gets at least one level-up.
Selbia had already hit Attunement and Resonance. The Academy would find the missing Plenitude piece for her.
3-star realm locked in—she was Crimson Magic Tower elite material. If luck smiled and she touched Transcendence... maybe even the Crimson Tower Master's disciple.
She stopped by her hometown before enrolling to tie up loose ends.
Potato farming was exhausting. She hated the villagers who looked down on her. After joining the Tower, she never glanced back.
One lingering regret, though... her childhood friend.
The only one in the village who affirmed her, cheered her mage dreams.
Then he vanished.
Asking the adults, they'd sold him off to some Magic Tower.
For some reason, his face blurred in her mind, name fuzzy... but somewhere in her past, it was a precious memory.
What if. Just maybe. By chance. He'd visit his hometown. If he had talent too, thriving in that Tower, becoming a fine mage, returning home...
No such luck.
She hated the village. But when those mercenary scumbags tried to rip it off, her outrage was for the day her friend might return—the village at least needed to still be there.
Running into that odd two-person duo was unexpected.
On the way back after goblin cleanup, the slightly off-kilter illusion mage hurried ahead to the village. The maid-like beauty in a suit walked beside her.
Even sidelong glances revealed nothing about the suited beauty. At least her superior in realm, and no reason for someone like that to visit a backwater village.
Selbia asked directly.
"What are you two?"
"As I said, the baron's young master and his maid."
"Next time you impersonate nobility... at least dye your hair or something?"
The suited beauty smirked like she wasn't even trying to fool anyone. Selbia felt a smug "what're you gonna do about it" vibe that pissed her off.
She'd fallen for that brazenness briefly.
Pink hair was brazen enough, but how does a black-haired mage pull off noble cosplay so shamelessly? Midway, her haughty formal speech even tricked Selbia without realizing.
She clocked the half-assed noble disguise when she saw the illusion mage's spells. Fragmenting, twisting, chaining them to puppeteer a goblin horde.
Like tossing puzzle pieces on different paths and assembling them midair at 100 meters. Even with her mental barrier up, she'd fallen to that "flood" illusion for good reason.
"The Crimson Magic Tower Master always laments it—loud enough to ring in your ears. That the Violet Tower stole a grand mage candidate... That's him, right?"
"Who knows."
"The world's wide. Here I am, envied as some genius."
She didn't think she could win. Beyond realm gap, the calculation speed was insane. Hell, this mage might even nail someone in a higher realm.
Something transcending realm.
"...That's what they call grand mage talent, huh."
"Got a rational interest in the young master?"
"Absolutely not!"
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Wandering the village, I think we'd found Dad.