Fairy Village and Forbidden Math
Ian watched as the fairies worked their magic. Their plan was simple and straightforward: extract a portion of the magical power from the magic sword without handing over the blade itself. The sword's power would weaken, but it was an attractive deal since it let him lend the fairies the magic they craved so badly.
Ian didn't agonize over it for long before nodding. He couldn't fully unleash the sword's power right now anyway. It was little more than a medieval fire stick at the moment, so a bit less potency wouldn't hurt. In exchange, he'd get priceless fairy silk—a clear win.
The only issue was that Ian himself didn't see much personal gain in it. Sure, suppose the fairies gave him fairy silk. Then what? Make clothes? Sell it to big nobles? That was merchants' work, not a mage's. Ian wasn't some desperate lowborn scrambling for money and power. He was a mage seeking out mysteries.
He might dabble in trade while traveling, but he hadn't planned that far ahead yet.
"We'll transfer the magic from the magic sword into the rune stones of our village," the Fairy Queen said, asking to borrow Ian's magic sword.
"Then I'll come along."
"...There won't be anything for you to do if you come."
"It's my sword. Don't you think I should be there?"
The Fairy Queen relented under Ian's persuasion.
"If that's your reason."
Ian accompanied the Fairy Queen, but the others didn't. Fairies minimized contact with the outside world for survival. Sure, mischievous ones occasionally mingled with humans, but those were exceptions. The rest of the humans were under a guest ban.
No one complained about the decision.
"Come back safe, Ian!"
"Will do."
Truth be told, the humans feared the fairies too. Fairies were infamous sorcerers. For medieval folk terrified of magic, clashing with them would be a nightmare.
"Ian, before entering the village, please swear one thing."
"Swear?"
"Yes. Swear on all the mysteries you pursue that you won't harm us fairies."
"..."
As the Fairy Queen spoke, Ian felt surrounding mysteries—big and small—perk up with interest. Fairies were a race born to magic. In D&D terms, they cast with charisma. Unlike Ian the INT mage, they didn't need to study the Maronius Language; they were innately attuned to mysteries.
Mentioning mysteries made Ian tense. Mysteries hated liars, just like anyone hates friends who lie. If you're lying to a friend, they're not really a friend anymore. Swearing on mysteries meant he'd have to keep it.
"I swear."
"Really?"
"But only as long as you treat me as a guest."
"Of course."
The fairies had seen Ian commune with nature several times and were wary of his power. Just summoning that horrific owl-like beast proved how dangerous he was.
"This is our fairy village."
Ian let out a soft gasp of admiration at the village the Queen guided him to.
You have witnessed a new mystery!
Skill:Chronomancy (10/100) - In Progress
Chronomancy? Ian tilted his head at the status window floating before him. Witnessing the new mystery had boosted his progress with the Chronomancy mystery.
Which meant...
"Is the mystery of Chronomancy applied here?"
Ian asked, and the Fairy Queen looked shocked.
"How did you know?"
"Just a hunch?"
"Your instincts are sharp."
The Queen's praise wasn't really praise—she was wary of his abilities. Ian was right. The fairy village was under the mystery of Chronomancy: a pocket dimension you couldn't enter without permission from the twisted space. Normal steps wouldn't get you in.
Chronomancy, huh...
Chronomancy was incredibly useful for Ian. Teleportation fell under it, after all. If he could twist space, he could mimic JRPG mage tricks—summoning rocks from thin air or monsters.
But he remembered Eredis's warning.
'Try entering Chronomancy, but drop it if it feels off.'
Why the warning? Chronomancy's second aspect: time manipulation. Chronomancers foresaw the future casually, like eating breakfast. They schemed to twist futures to their liking.
If Ian tried entering Chronomancy, they'd foresee it. If they wanted him as one of them, great. If not... they'd block him desperately, even killing him if needed.
That's why Eredis and most mages despised chronomancers. They acted like gods, puppeteering the world.
Eredis's advice: abandon it if they interfere. Dealing with sneaky future-seers dead set against you would make life hell.
In short, don't antagonize chronomancers.
"..."
Ian considered dumping skill points into Chronomancy. It was convenient magic, no doubt. But realizing chronomancers might freak out over it... no rush.
Eredis had said not to worry about them. "They're not worth it. They'll move first anyway, so just wait patiently."
"Just so you know... please don't reveal our village's location."
The Fairy Queen eyed Ian sharply. She hadn't expected him to pierce the village's Chronomancy mystery. If he got ideas, she'd be in trouble.
But Ian had no intention of messing with them.
"I swear on the mysteries I won't divulge any information."
"Thank you."
Only then did the Queen smile softly. Unlike other humans, the mage Ian wasn't greedy and respected fairies. Not like those who razed villages for fairy silk.
They were bound by contract now anyway.
"Ian, the sword."
In the village central square, fairies bustled setting up the rune stone. They'd transfer the magic sword's power there...
"How does it work? What's the principle?"
Ian asked a perfectly mage-like question. Mages were naturally curious about magic.
The Queen, expecting it, called over an engineer.
"I'm the head rune stone engineer."
The engineer eyed Ian suspiciously—pure distrust.
"I'll explain... but not sure you'll get it."
"..."
Ian was dumbfounded. What god-tier technique were they using?
Reading Ian's look, the fairy engineer snorted.
"Pass a basic test first, and I'll explain. It's basic basics—if you fail this, no point explaining further."
"Your intro's annoying. Can't you just get to the point?"
Engineers gonna engineer—proud of their knowledge. But the fairy still dismissed Ian. He was human, after all! Primitive humans couldn't grasp great fairy tech!
And it was justified contempt.
"Test time. Human mage, you can count, right?"
"...Yes."
"Name one number smaller than 2."
What? Ian was more curious than annoyed now. Smaller than 2? Obviously...
"1."
No sooner had Ian spoken than the engineer grinned wickedly.
"Then what's smaller than 1?"
"...?"
Ian genuinely couldn't grasp what the guy wanted. Perplexing.
The engineer took Ian's confusion for ignorance!
Stupid human!
Fairies scorned human knowledge; they excelled at math. If that sounds weird, think dwarves. Yeah, math-savvy dwarves looking down on human math!
These fantasy fairies were artisan masters. Unlike human craftsmen ignorant of math, fairies fused tech and math—cutting edge.
Humans, to them: didn't even know numbers smaller than 1.
And it was fact. Medieval folk didn't grasp it. "Huh? Isn't 1 the smallest?" Sure, for natural numbers.
Smart fairies knew zero. Smaller than 1: 0.
Even the ancient Golden Empire, with its glorious civilization, ignored zero. "Nothing" as a number? Nah, nothing's not a number!
Post-apocalypse medievals used tally sticks: one stick for 1, two for 2. Mages too—this fantasy mage was humanities, not STEM. Memorizing hieroglyph-like scripts and chanting Maronius.
So the engineer assumed Ian would fail!
But Ian's random question threw him.
"So, a number smaller than 1, but not natural numbers?"
"Natu... what?"
"Countable numbers. Below that, obviously 0. Or negatives? What?"
"???"
The fairy panicked at the alien terms. Negatives? Lewd numbers?
Translating Imperial to fairy tongue yielded nothing.
Soon, the fairy asked back.
"Uh... sorry, what's a negative?"
"Minus. Like -1."
"...Huh?"
Minus? What's that, weeb?
Ian grabbed a stick and sketched on the ground.
"Nothing is 0. Negatives are smaller than that."
"No, that's nonsense... How can there be less than nothing?"
"Aish. Know equations?"
Like a middle school math teacher. Ian added symbols, starting an impromptu lesson.
"Negatives are abstract, not physical..."
"Symbols that exist only in equations?!"
"Yeah, mainly for terms. Move left side to right, it becomes a negative..."
Ian scribbled and erased equations. The fairy's eyes bulged in shock.
Ian's concepts were mind-blowing. Fairy math outpaced humans but stayed physical. Then "smaller than nothing"—brain freeze.
Kukuku... negatives are even more nothing than nothing!
??? What? Huh?!
Meanwhile, ex-math nerd Ian (once eyeing math major) felt nostalgic joy at math playtime. Middle school level, but still.
"How is this..."
The engineer panicked like a mortal facing cosmic horror. Whatever.
"Done chatting?"
The uninterested Queen didn't follow.
"Ah, yeah. Roughly."
"Then let's set up the rune stone."
Right, the main event. As Ian and Queen approached, the engineer rushed over.
"M-Mage!"
"Yes?"
"Want to calculate the rune stone formula yourself?!"
Oh. Ian perked up. Fun with numbers?
Ian played math puzzles with the fairy engineers on rune stone formulas. Some fairies witnessed modern math wizardry from his fingers, freaking out into enlightenment trances.
Minus those cute fanboy moments, the fairies successfully extracted exactly 33.333...% of the magic sword's power.
"Thanks for cooperating."
"No problem."