Chapter 473
Chapter 473
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 473
>Chapter Title: Like Recognizes Like
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True vacuum refers to a space devoid of all matter.
So, what do you call a space devoid of all mana?
It has no defined name.
It was the kind of assumption you'd only find in cheap stories, a debate utterly worthless in the field of magic studies.
A space without mana, the root of all existence?
It could be exceedingly sparse, but never entirely absent.
...That was the common wisdom.
But right now, in this very moment.
Amid the sluggish flow of time, the grand wizards beheld a space utterly devoid of mana.
It was emptiness.
Vast and hollow, infinitely empty.
And yet...
Full to the brim.
The faint breath brushing past their lips, the quiver of flesh beneath their eyes, the touch of a stray hair against their brows, the subtle tremor in their fingertips, and even the world's tiniest stimuli grazing their fine hairs.
In this fullness of sensation, every sense was razor-sharp.
Magical High.
The phenomenon known as magical awakening.
When someone with extreme sensitivity to mana, having lived their entire life in a space where mana was exceedingly scarce—never dulled by its lack—suddenly exposed themselves to a massive surge of mana... they would experience this extraordinarily rare event.
Rumor had it that those who underwent Magical High became so attuned to mana it was like opening a third eye, but that remained unverified.
But one thing was certain: for wizards, this was a stroke of fortune they might encounter only once in a lifetime, if at all...
In truth, it was absurd.
Grand wizards, desensitized beyond measure to mana after a lifetime without it, experiencing Magical High in a space completely devoid of mana.
In a way, it was a historic moment.
A discovery worthy of record in the annals of wizard history or magical scholarship.
But those gathered there neither praised nor gauged the greatness or value of this historic find.
They simply...
Observed.
In the fractured flow of time, they took in the sight of the mana-less void with their eyes, inhaled the air brushing their noses, felt it on their skin, and gauged the vibrations in their eardrums.
Afterimages lingered on their retinas.
Traces of magic.
Just before the abyss devoured all mana, those spells had been swelling their forms by drawing in the space's mana. But in the end, they were stripped of it all by the abyss and reduced to nothingness.
What they witnessed were the remnants of magics that had vanished that way.
And the traces etched on each retina differed.
One saw a banquet of golden sand.
Another, pristine white ice.
Another, roaring flames.
Yet another, crackling lightning.
Within them lay the "magic" each had honed over a lifetime. Something even more profound than imagery...
And in the empty world, they witnessed it clearly.
The sight of it all dissolving into futility.
Its ephemeral end.
The despair of faith crumbling at last.
Castles of golden sand collapsed, ice citadels melted away. Blazing suns cooled to chill, vigorous thunderclouds dispersed limply.
And beyond that, each person's cherished world scattered into ephemerality.
What followed was profound futility, listlessness, and paradoxically...
Liberation.
Among the six wizards—Judges of the Self: Demeya, Kahazar, Kijystone, Parapus, Pahren—five who had cast spells fell into that overwhelming sense of liberation upon entering Magical High. Excluding Pahren, who hadn't cast any.
In normal time flow, it was a mere instant. But in the finely splintered time, it stretched near eternity...
In that relative flow, the grand wizards glimpsed new horizons, each in their own way.
And back in the normal flow of time...
Crack, crack.
The pure white shield blocked the pitch-black abyss, where even perspective vanished. Sun and Moon trembled their eyes faintly as they gazed at the abyss rippling beyond the pure white shield.
"How...?"
"...a human."
Having once been human, they knew better than anyone.
How frail and pathetic this race truly was, despite their lofty claims as the pinnacle of creation.
But the pure white shield was ancient magic.
Aster had understood it as a type of "protection spell," but in truth, it was no mere protective magic.
It was...
Severance.
A magic that pierced the concept of severance, its power depending on how firmly Sun and Moon grasped that concept of "severance."
And the concept of "severance" forged by two who had become mysteries, peering into realms of cognition beyond human sight, was near flawless.
That was why it held its form steadfastly even as the abyss greedily devoured all mana—and why it wouldn't break so long as the "severance" in their hearts remained unshaken.
It should have been that way...
"......!"
Sun and Moon recoiled in shock at the unbelievable sight unfolding before them.
Crack, craaack—
Fissures spiderwebbed across the pure white shield. Fragments chipped away and were sucked into the abyss.
Impossible.
The concept of "severance" was firm, so the shield forged from it should be unbreakable by any means...
No, the very notion of "breaking" shouldn't even apply.
Its form was merely a shield; what it embodied was the concept of "blocking" as "severing."
Yet why?
...In truth, the answer was simple.
Sun and Moon's grasp of "severance" was near flawless, but not quite absolute.
And faith wavers before stronger faith.
Aster had simply believed.
That the abyss...
Could shatter it.
The insight implanted by Rapiter's librarian, Teheman, and the concepts of ancient magic had taken root and manifested.
It would have done nothing to an ordinary wizard—a trivial lesson. But against Sun and Moon, wielders of ancient magic, it proved effective.
And so.
Craaash—!
The pure white shield, which had seemed unbreakable, shattered into pieces. Those shards were sucked into the abyss and vanished.
Reflected in Sun and Moon's pupils was nothing but...
The abyss.
A pitch-black maw.
An endless bottomless pit devouring all.
But then.
Just before the pit swallowed Sun and Moon—
'......?'
Aster narrowed his eyes.
What?
Something was off.
In Sun and Moon's eyes, beside their black pupils, their whites flickered briefly with a black silhouette.
The silhouette's identity was none other than...
...letters.
Reverse Heaven's forbidden script.
Sun and Moon's voices echoed at that exact moment.
"Do that, and its wielder is still but a frail human."
"Cease."
In that instant, Aster thought.
'This...'
...I can't refuse.
* * *
Screeech—!
Aster, pinned in midair as if nailed there, slowly descended to the floor.
In the space filled only with chilling silence, the grand wizards emerging from the splintered time flow couldn't tear their gazes from Sun and Moon.
How to describe this?
Right—overwhelmed. That fit best.
In this moment, Sun and Moon ruled the space.
They exuded a heavy, dense presence, filling the space with their eyes and bending it to their will.
And flowing in those eyes...
Letters.
With only the letters drifting in Sun and Moon's eyes as the sole movement, Aster—now fully on the floor—silently looked up at them.
As expected, that initial sensation hadn't been an illusion.
'...Not some aura.'
What bound his body now wasn't an external force.
To put it simply... yes, when the command "Cease" fell, it felt as if his entire body submitted to it.
So, how to escape?
'...Transcendence?'
No, not that.
The first time Sun and Moon said "Be silent," he could enter transcendence. But this was beyond that level.
A more coercive, heavier command.
Was this even possible?
He rolled his eyes about, and voices reached his ears.
"Word Spirit."
"One of the ultimates the ancients pursued."
So, in other words, the pinnacle form ancient magic could reach—something like that.
Aster let Sun and Moon's words go in one ear and out the other as he glanced at the other grand wizards. Wondering how they were faring.
But unfortunately, the others were in much the same state as him.
Frozen in place, only their eyes rolling about helplessly.
And so, as the grand wizards stood motionless, exchanging only glances...
"You won't move no matter what. This power is borrowed from Reverse Heaven... the grimoire."
"You cannot move, no matter what you do."
Each word burrowed into his ears.
Aster, sprawled pathetically on the floor, lifted only his eyes to take in Sun and Moon silently.
Impressive.
But...
Something felt off.
"A pity. The heads of noble houses might have resisted had they a grimoire."
"What can be done? That is simply your limit."
Blah blah blah.
Each word stuck neatly in his ears, but Aster himself couldn't comprehend it at all.
'...Why are their tongues so loose?'
It reeked.
It stank.
* * *
Think about it.
When they first said "Stop" and he stopped, what should Sun and Moon's proper response have been?
1. Kill.
2. Kill.
3. Kill.
Obviously, the answer was 4.
'Kill him.'
So why the endless chatter?
Too thrilled?
Possible.
After all, it was a moment they'd waited for—hundreds, maybe thousands of years.
So they might savor the afterglow...
'...Like hell.'
As if.
To savor such afterglow, you'd need to be petty yet bold enough, and outright stupid.
But Sun and Moon were petty without the boldness, and far from stupid.
So there must be some reason.
'Hold on.'
Word Spirit?
- Frail and pitiable beings.
- Be silent.
At first, he thought it was just self-important old fogeys chiming in.
- In the end, mere humans. Frail ones.
- Kneel...
That felt a bit grating.
How laughable, them—who were once human—lecturing about humans.
'But...'
Even in that dire moment when the abyss was about to smash into their faces, what did they do?
- Do that, and its wielder is still but a frail human.
- Cease.
Long-winded preamble.
Suddenly, a thought struck him.
What if the words from "Sun," the first to speak, weren't meaningless filler—but part of some ritual with meaning?
And...
"This is long enough. Humbly accept your limits and bow your heads. We have transcended humanity."
"No shame in that."
...If these bastards were now peddling some drug?
Like recognizes like.
Aster thought.
These guys are scared of something.
But... what?
Unless he pinpointed the weakness, escaping Reverse Heaven's power would just lead to recapture.
'Figure it out.'
Brain with poor mass-to-efficiency ratio.
Full throttle.
But it's fine.
Justice always prevails.
Probably.