Spirit Mage, Ser (Complete)
Ser loved magic.
Raised by parents who were mages of the Magic Tower, she could not help but fall in love with the miracles magic wrought.
Perhaps that earnest passion bore fruit. From a tender age, Ser—who loved magic—displayed extraordinary talent.
When she first learned to speak, she already sensed the flow of mana. When her intellect sharpened, she wielded mana at will. By the time her age reached double digits, she possessed a mana capacity that transcended the bounds of humanity.
Her parents, witnessing even fragments of their daughter’s gift, hoped she would fulfill the dreams they themselves had never reached. And so they became her teachers, planting in her every scrap of knowledge about magic.
While children her age learned language, Ser memorized incantations. While they read fairy tales, she studied intermediate grimoires. While they ate the foods they craved, she downed potions. When she caught a cold and lay feverish, she instead collapsed from mana exhaustion and hovered at death’s door.
When spring arrived, she made flowers bloom with magic. When summer came, she was bound beneath the scorching sun and forced to create ice. When autumn fell, she returned fallen leaves to the trees. When winter descended, she was locked in a freezer and made to kindle fire.
The rice she had always scooped with bare hands she now ate from utensils forged through alchemy. The scars left by stray dogs vanished cleanly under healing magic. The filthy water she had been forced to drink for survival became sweet through newly crafted artifacts. The insects she had eaten for protein were replaced by the carcasses of beheaded beasts.
She had lived a life worse than a beast’s, yet she never regarded any of it as misfortune. She saw her talent—and the weight of her parents’ expectations—as a blessing.
And so, when a new spring arrived, countless epithets gathered before her name.
Youngest mage of the Magic Tower. Peerless genius. Child born of magic. Guide who would lead the way to the end of the arcane path. And reincarnation of the Great Sage Virus.
Those heavy titles became fuel that spurred her growth, driving her ever higher. From the formulas in grimoires she forged entirely new magics of her own. She devised mana-handling methods far more efficient than any known to the world. She created grand magics that only she—with her bottomless mana—could ever cast. She pioneered Word Magic, the art of imbuing language itself with mana, long believed the sole domain of dragons.
By the end of her teens she no longer stored mana within her body to cast spells. Instead she created her own unique magic: converting the free-floating mana of the atmosphere directly into spells.
And when she came of age, the epithets before Ser’s name were replaced by a single title: the Miracle Grand Mage.
Her eyes gazed upon the end of the arcane path. Her feet strode straight toward that distant terminus.
Magic loved Ser. And Ser loved magic.
But the world did not love Ser.
It envied her overwhelming talent. It resented her great achievements. It coveted her endless mana.
The Tower Master himself belonged among those people. Blinded at last by such emotions, he crossed a line that should never have been crossed. He sought to open the gate to the Spirit Realm—a door no human mana could ever unlock—using Ser’s body as the medium.
He spread baseless rumors. He ruined those around her. He slandered, envied, and stoked jealousy against her.
Yet Ser’s parents stood by her to the very end. Whether that was a parent’s love or a mage’s hunger to witness the end of the arcane path, she could not say. But Ser was so grateful for it that when her parents were taken hostage, she offered her body without a moment’s hesitation.
Even if her mana ran dry. Even if her total capacity shrank. She still possessed knowledge, talent, and achievement—and the love of magic, and parents who loved her. She was certain she could still reach the end of the path.
And so, when she walked of her own will to the Tower Master and surrendered her mana, everything collapsed.
The magic formula the Tower Master had spent a lifetime constructing was flawed from its very foundation. His true intent—not to summon spirits, but to become their master—enraged the spirits. That vile emotion stirred the King of Spirits himself.
The spirits ran wild.
Manifesting through Ser’s mana as their medium, they began slaughtering every mage in the Magic Tower. Ser’s parents were not spared.
Wind severed limbs. Water choked breath. Fire seared wounds. Earth pierced flesh. Darkness reduced bodies to filthy lumps of meat. Light healed it all—so that it could begin again.
Wind. Water. Fire. Earth. Darkness. Light.
But Ser was a genius. Even in that hell she never lost her reason. She understood with perfect clarity what she could do—and what she must do.
She evaporated every last scrap of her mana that had spread across the area. She rewrote the mana flowing inside her own body. She twisted the pathways, blocked them, bent them, tore them, and sealed them shut. Next she altered the very nature of her mana. Finally she rebuilt her body so that it could never again use magic.
She finished the entire sequence in the exact moment light restored her parents’ bodies. The instant their flesh—reduced to shredded scraps—returned whole, Ser’s mana vanished.
Bereft of their medium, the spirits scattered. Her parents remained, limbs intact.
That alone was enough. She had abandoned the magic she loved, yet she did not care. As long as she had parents who loved her, she believed she could rise again no matter how many times she fell.
But the world did not love Ser. It offered no pity. No compassion.
Her parents, who had felt the agony of death again and again, no longer possessed intellect. They tore out their own tongues, chewed their own skin, and could not even beg to die—living lumps of meat.
And inside the ordinary body she had become, the mana of the spirits that had ruined her parents and shattered everything she was still lingered. The gate to the Spirit Realm remained connected.
Yet even then, Ser was a genius. She understood with perfect clarity what she must do.
She crawled on her hands and knees and cut her father’s throat. With no blade, she used a shard of broken glass. With no strength, she tore the skin again and again. She crushed bone. She stopped his breath.
With hands stripped to the bone she stabbed her mother’s heart. She tore the skin with broken glass, smashed the bone with a stone, and pierced the heart.
She borrowed none of the spirits’ power. In silence, with her own hands, she finished it.
And when a new spring arrived, a new title gathered before her name.
The mage who wrought miracles without mana. The mage who commanded beautiful spirits. The mage who painted fantastical landscapes.
Thus she was called: Spirit Mage, Ser.
“What are all of you doing looking like that?”
With a sound as though the cozy cabin itself might collapse, the one person who could shift this atmosphere appeared.
“S-Sirin-nim…!”
I immediately scampered over to Sirin and latched onto her arm.
“Hm? Why so suddenly…”
Sirin tilted her head at my strange reaction, then soon gave a bitter smile.
“Honestly… did this body not tell you that using a petrification stone would suffice?”
“This is faster.”
“What a headache.”
Shaking her head, Sirin patted my back, then walked over to the sofa where the others sat and sank into it with a soft fwump.
“I would like you all to understand… though I know it will not be easy. Still, she is not a bad child, so I hope you will not push her away too harshly.”
“Ah… yes. I don’t think she’s an unconditionally bad person.”
[Right. Not a bad bitch—just a crazy one.]
‘Q-Quiet!’
I gave the bracelet on my wrist a sharp smack.
“That aside, have you examined Ser’s body yet?”
“…Nothing yet…”
Rubia let out a trembling sigh and lowered her head. I moved to her side and squeezed her hand tightly. It was damp, cold, and shaking.
“Well… Rubia, if it is you, you will surely be able to fix her, so do not worry overmuch.”
“…If that’s true, then I’m glad.”
“Mm. And since it would be poor form to ask for free, this body shall also provide a reward befitting the task.”
Sirin slurped my strawberry milk as she spoke, then turned her head to look at Ser. Ser likewise lifted her steaming teacup and answered.
“I will also offer everything I can. First… for Noah-nim, would examining the Fragment of the End you carry be acceptable? I have some modest expertise in alchemy as well, hehe.”
“…Y-Yes…?”
“Ah, I did not peek. I once saw a Beast of the End long ago, and I simply sensed the exact same aura from you.”
[Whoa… so she was a crazy bitch with actual skills.]
Ser wore an elegant, old-fashioned smile. Cartia spat vulgar words.
“And for Rubia-nim… is there anything I might assist with?”
“Ah, for me… um…”
After a moment of tapping her lips in thought, Rubia carefully opened her mouth.
“If you can do alchemy, then… would artifact crafting also be possible?”
“Of course.”
“Ah… yes. Then, um… I’ll tell you about that separately. Hehehe.”
Finished speaking, Rubia squeezed my hand tightly and smiled quietly. It was no longer cold, nor trembling.
“Excellent. Then shall we begin soon?”
“Yes. Let’s do that. Ser-nim, first… could you give me your hand?”
“Yes. Understood.”
Ser nodded, took another sip of coffee, and extended her hand to Rubia.
“Well then, you too should begin your training!”
Seeing that, Sirin nodded and rose from her seat.
“Y-Yes…? Training…?”
“Mm. That side will take at least three days. We can hardly sit around idle the whole time, can we?”
“Th-Three days…?”
“Three days is on the fast side. If Rubia works without rest it will be about three days—and it could stretch longer.”
While channeling divine power into Ser’s body, Rubia spoke with difficulty.
“Mm… yes. It’ll probably take about that long. But… how did your body end up like this…”
“Hehe. One thing led to another.”
“So she says. Let us move as well!”
Smiling in satisfaction, Sirin seized my wrist. Then, as always, she raised her arm and snapped her fingers.
“Rubia-nim’s skin is truly lovely.”
“Y-Yes? What was that?”
Just before the scenery changed—
“The scent, the feel, the atmosphere you give off… they resemble mine.”
“Hyaah…! S-Ser-nim…?!”
Incomprehensible words brushed past my ears.
[Hey, I think we’re fucked.]