True and Fake Black Magic
"Jeron, are you mocking me? You clearly promised to teach black magic to my apostle."
Jeron laughed haha and said,
"Heavens no. How dare I mock Lord Haellagos? I simply have no desire to waste time teaching someone without talent."
Jeron turned his head toward Yoahim, his smiling face unchanged.
"No matter how much water you pour into a leaky jar, it's pointless. Even if you teach diligently, if the vessel is poor, it's all for nothing. Even if the master is first-rate, the disciple can be third-rate."
Listening to this arrogant speech, Yoahim thought it was incredibly presumptuous. The position of Jenahe Tower Master was proof of Jeron's skill, but wasn't he still beneath Haellagos? In terms of black magic, he couldn't even compare to the lich Alzahar, and among mages overall, he was several levels below Lilith, the master of Kalsara Tower. Yet here he was, strutting around like some grand master of black magic. It was infuriating.
Yoahim glanced subtly at the space above Jeron's head.
Yoahim, who had felt the immense pressure from Hallidery at Lv.112, knew that Lv.130 was nothing to scoff at. But that didn't mean he could talk back to Haellagos like this.
Yoahim twitched the corner of his mouth and swallowed the words rising in his throat.
"I get what you're saying. You're curious about the apostle's skill, aren't you?"
"Curious is too mild—I'm confirming whether he's worth my time and effort. As you know, I'm busy with my research."
Haellagos chuckled softly.
"Then test him and see. Apostle, show him your magic."
Yoahim nodded. Gathering mana at his fingertips, he pondered what spell to demonstrate.
The most effective would be Inventory, but...
Inventory was no different from a sub-space. It required no mana to maintain or open, making it essentially an upgraded sub-space. But it wasn't magic. Vincent had mistaken it for one at first, but given time, he would have realized it wasn't. If Tolstone's Tower Master Vincent could figure that out, so could Jenahe Tower Master Jeron. There was no point in pointless tricks. And misleading him about his own talent would be meaningless. A master needed to know his disciple's level to provide proper training. Hiding it would only disadvantage Yoahim.
That leaves just one option.
Yoahim didn't have many spells he could cast to begin with. Excluding item effects, it was embarrassingly few for a mage. But he had one advantage other mages lacked.
"Shield."
A translucent barrier enveloped Yoahim's body. It was a flawless hemisphere, looking sturdy enough to withstand a mace strike without shattering.
"Well, this is a problem..."
But it was still just a shield. The most basic of basics. This wouldn't prove talent.
Jeron hummed and stroked his chin. If this was it, he was honestly disappointed. It wasn't even creatively shaped for versatility or layered for extra defense. Just a plain shield. No novelty, no ingenuity, no surprise.
Jeron tsked and started to shake his head, but—
Crackle.
"Hm?"
A yellowish light crawled over the shield. It wasn't just coloring—it sparked with a fierce intensity.
No way?
Jeron's eyes widened. Flowing over the shield was unmistakably lightning mana. Like thorns wrapping a shield, intense lightning mana surged across its surface.
He fused two types of mana?
The idea itself wasn't novel. Any mage had considered combining spells to create something new. Many had experimented. If those had succeeded meaningfully, Jeron wouldn't be surprised. Nothing special about what everyone could do.
But creating a new spell from two wasn't easy. Jeron could do it, but it demanded too much time and effort.
Yet Yoahim was doing it. Without Jeron's level of skill.
Shield and... Lightning Bolt? Both basic spells. Simpler structures, sure, but...
Higher spells had complex formulas, making fusion harder, more intricate, riskier. But that didn't diminish Yoahim's success. This was pure talent.
Jeron now acknowledged Yoahim's exceptional gift.
A promising sapling.
Great masters craved great disciples. Yoahim was immensely appealing to Jeron. Finally, a worthy student. He shot Yoahim a fervent gaze.
But Yoahim, focused on his spell, didn't notice.
I can do more.
He hadn't trained magic specifically, but steady Intellect investments with each level-up had sharpened his mana control. He felt he could fuse three now.
A strange confidence filled his chest. Unproven, yet certain of success.
Dark Flame.
The most basic black magic. Green flames followed his mana guidance, wrapping the shield. Lightning and fire mana snarled like rival beasts, repelling like same-pole magnets.
Gently. Carefully.
Lightning and flame were wild stallions. Untamed, they'd rampage. He suppressed their fury—not by brute force, but soothing, reshaping them.
The two rotated, merging into one form. Lightning into flame, flame into lightning. Similar yet distinct, they fused rapidly.
Ah...
Lightning-flame mana raced wildly over the shield. Still rough, but perfectly obedient.
A thrill of accomplishment surged through him.
I did it.
Yoahim lacked magical knowledge. But even he knew this was significant.
Through mysterious exploration, you have reached a new realm!
Black Magic skill level has risen! (Lv.1 → Lv.2)
His black magic, stuck at Lv.1, had finally leveled up. Even without the system alert, Yoahim sensed it. Fusing three spells broadened his magical horizons and heightened mana sensitivity. He instinctively felt stronger.
"Hm?"
Yoahim ended his focus, dispersing the mana to cancel the spell. The heat filling the workshop vanished with the barrier. Using three at once had drained him, causing slight tremors, but he dismissed it. Mana recovery and max would improve with practice—no big deal.
"What? Why are you all staring like that?"
Haellagos and Jeron stared at him, lips pressed tight. They exchanged glances, then turned back.
"...More talent than expected. Well, he's an apostle, so it's only natural."
"Lord Haellagos, leave the apostle's training to me. Please, let me do it."
Haellagos nodded vigorously.
"Of course. You're better at teaching than I am. I entrust him to you. Teach him generously."
"No worries. The apostle will become the strongest black mage in the Withered Land."
"I'll take my leave, apostle. Jeron is your master now—learn well."
Haellagos left, chuckling nonstop at Yoahim's unforeseen talent. My judgment was spot on.
"..."
Alone with Jeron, Yoahim felt awkward in the heavy silence. Should he say hello? But now...
Yoahim grunted, and Jeron, lost in thought, looked up.
"Pleased to meet you, Apostle. Allow me to greet you properly once more. I am Jeron, Tower Master of Jenahe Tower."
Yoahim had pegged him as arrogant from earlier, but he was surprisingly courteous. Maybe due to status, but it peeled away a preconception.
"Ah, I'm Yoahim. Looking forward to working with you."
"No need to worry, Apostle. Excluding Lord Haellagos, I'm the strongest black mage in the Withered Land. Even across the continent, few match me."
Doubt it. Yoahim inwardly denied it.
My main character is stronger.
Yoahim had raised many characters: warrior Kallagon, mage Lilith, holy knight Radius, priestess Liana, and more. Unlike necromancers, he hadn't deleted his black mage alt, so it existed here at max level—the world's strongest.
"Ideally we'd start lessons today, but I haven't prepared. We'll begin tomorrow and do a light orientation today."
"Orientation?"
"Yes. First, let's gauge your knowledge of black magic."
Yoahim nodded lightly.
"What do you think black magic is, Apostle?"
Black magic? Darker, eviler version of regular magic? He barely knew magic, let alone this.
Yoahim gave a rough answer. Jeron nodded.
"About that level... Then, do you know black magic is divided into two main types?"
"No."
First time hearing it. Probably basic knowledge for black mages, but ignorance was ignorance.
"There are two kinds of black magic."
Jeron held up two fingers.
"One is real."
He folded one.
"The other is fake."
Both folded.
"Real and fake. That's black magic."