Chapter 32
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: Breaking the Curse
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"Not a mage, so you don't even know the 'ma' in magic, you said? Looks like Young Master Goldsen doesn't know either. Talking like he's some kind of expert."
"What insolence..."
"Right? Half-baked this, half-baked that—there's a limit to insulting House Cascadia. And from a deskbound scholar like you? Should I throw down the gauntlet or something?"
Melissa's provocations kept coming thick and fast. As her demeanor grew increasingly ominous, even Goldsen flinched and shut his mouth.
Even Duke Berli and Count Bardal, the royal mage, wore expressions like, Was she always like this?
"Ahem... Ahem!!"
Marquis Bidar could only let out awkward coughs to the bitter end.
Meanwhile, Goldsen Bidar stared at the pebble with a hardened face before responding.
"I... I understand!"
He declared confidently.
"I can resolve this."
He rolled his eyes around before hastily pulling out his staff.
"From now on, I'll sever the resonance between His Highness and this cursed minion and perform an exorcism spell. If holy magic for exorcism is tricky, I can approach it with the same necromantic magic."
Steadying his breath, he brimmed with confidence.
"I'm a 4th-circle necromancer. I've mastered exorcism spells to the point of boredom. But to resolve this, I need the help of esteemed mages like yourselves."
"Our help?"
"Yes. Cascadia's half-baked fool got lucky and guessed the purpose, but to perform the exorcism, I need skilled experts—that is, all of you... Gah?!"
He shrieked and staggered.
"..."
Doubt crept across the faces of Count Bardal, Parel Berli, Duke Berli, and countless others.
Can we trust this guy putting on a solo show?
But despite appearances, he was a royal-certified 4th-circle necromancer.
4th circle might sound low, but it absolutely wasn't.
Objectively speaking, reaching 4th circle at such a young age—excluding external factors like elixirs or brilliant mentors—marked him as a genius.
Bata Kingdom was severely lacking in the field of magic, even short on 5th-circle talents.
In that context, the words of a rare 4th-circle necromancer carried significant weight.
"Are you confident?"
"Urgh... Yes, Father. I've memorized exorcism spells inside and out."
As he began preparing a grand spell with full assurance, the mages swiftly assisted him in unison.
"Hey, Leon."
Melissa, watching the scene, asked cautiously.
"Why."
"Can they fix that?"
To her question, I quietly scanned his spell.
I couldn't force a foreign object into his circles to push him to 5th circle, but a 4th-circle necromancer's skills wouldn't vanish.
Exorcising the curse required only 1st or 2nd-circle necromantic mana.
Actually, even less was needed.
But from my perspective, what he was doing was utterly incomprehensible.
"Why is he doing it like that?"
Wasn't magic the culmination of humanity's collective wisdom, the sum of countless minds?
Compared to what I'd built alone without a teacher, theirs should be more refined, backed by vast data.
Yet his magic was so sloppy.
No, sloppy didn't cover it—it was fundamentally wrong.
"Urgh?! The mana consumption is insane! Is this really right?!"
"I can do it!"
As his exorcism spell intensified, King Oliad's body began to convulse.
"S-Something's wrong!!"
"No! It's just the exorcism process! Hold down His Highness's body!"
As the situation escalated, Melissa poked my side again.
"Is this the normal way?"
"Normal way my ass—it's full of holes. How did the collective wisdom of magic end up like this?"
[You have built everything yourself. Your understanding permeates every element of magic.]
What does that matter?
[Ordinary humans merely learn the knowledge accumulated by their ancestors; they haven't pioneered it themselves, so their perspective cannot match yours.]
Of course, they could be similar. But that implied the current situation was entirely plausible.
Ah.
Only then did it start to make sense.
I was living magic history incarnate.
They were merely those who read and learned from history.
1+1=2.
Anyone knows it, but not everyone has pondered and proven that truth themselves.
The contradictions, questions, and insights from that process couldn't be identically absorbed.
Even established theories fade in original meaning over time.
Swordsmanship, fist arts, necromancy—everything I'd learned in the halls was the same.
Without comprehending every anguish, nuance, technique, and intent down to the roots, advancing was impossible.
The gap this created was enormous.
"If we leave it, someone dies."
"What? Then we have to stop it!"
"Does that matter to you?"
To my question, she nodded firmly.
"If His Highness croaks, House Cascadia takes a hit too, right?"
"Then we can't just leave it."
The more peaceful Cascadia stayed, the easier it was for me.
At her request, I lightly clapped my hands.
Paang!!!
Necromantic mana—not even circle magic—shot out wildly, enveloping and eroding Goldsen Bidar's spell.
No complex methods needed. A forced spell like that was bound to have gaps.
"Wha... Wh-what?!"
The mages all looked bewildered at the sudden, inexplicable turn.
"Wh-what is this?!"
"Stop there."
Clap!!
The moment I clapped again, the spell dispersed like a lie.
Interference disrupted the precariously maintained magic, canceling it.
All eyes turned to me.
"Were you trying to kill someone? Who exorcises like that?"
"What?! What does a punk like you know!!"
Goldsen Bidar, enraged at having his knowledge and realm dismissed, lunged and grabbed my collar.
"Do you even know what you've done?! This curse is vicious! A single misstep, and it tangles so badly exorcism becomes impossible!"
"Yeah, that's why."
"I don't know how you dispelled the magic, but because of you..."
I lightly seized his hand gripping my collar.
"Wha... Wha?!"
Then I easily pried it loose and flung him aside.
"Be grateful. I just saved you from a beheading on charges of regicide."
At my words, Count Bardal turned to check the king's condition.
And paled.
"Th-this... It's gotten worse!!"
His shout silenced everyone.
"Goldsen... What happened."
"No way... The exorcism was working fine?! Father! I'm innocent! I cast the exorcism! That half-baked fool interfered... Agh!!"
This time, no formless magic bolt hit him.
Marquis Bidar slapped his cheek.
"You fool..."
No one could deny the magic had worsened things.
"Leon Cascadia, you mean you can resolve it?"
Marquis Bidar shifted his glare to me.
"Do you think exorcism magic is omnipotent?"
"Ha! Wrapping your incompetence in fancy words."
Ignoring him, I approached the king.
King Oliad was exposed to a magic circle via multiple minions, accumulating miasma in his body over time.
The curse not only blocked control over that miasma but forcibly prevented its natural expulsion from the body.
Thus, miasma poisoning set in, collapsing the flesh.
Typically, curses building miasma like this could be exorcised by neutralizing it.
Like pouring base into acid to neutralize.
But this curse—if crudely neutralized—would be like pouring acid into acid.
Whoever set it had anticipated necromancers using exorcism and laid a trap.
In my view, this curse didn't need a brute-force battle with exorcism magic.
"Quit yapping emptily. Spouting off without a solution will expose your ignorance..."
Snap!!
Whether to salvage his pride, Goldsen shouted as I flicked my fingers.
I didn't know who planted the curse, but despite triple-layered traps, the caster had left the core hollow.
Snap!!
I snapped my fingers, tuning necromantic mana into miasma.
And shoved it straight into the miasma permeating the king's body.
"Wh-what are you doing?! Injecting miasma into a miasma-poisoned patient!!"
Complex magic? Intricate arrays?
For necromancy with such lax security despite looking refined?
Using necromantic mana, I seized control of the curse linked to King Oliad's body and began forced hacking. Invisible purple chains like shackles started manifesting around him.
"Wh-what is..."
Once the form solidified, I unhesitatingly hijacked the curse's dominion.
Kwang!!!
Then I reversed the remaining curse's direction—like flipping a faucet from hot to cold.
The miasma roiling inside King Oliad's body broke free, spilling everywhere.
The lingering miasma that couldn't escape was rapidly neutralized and dispersed as the injected miasma altered its nature into vitality.
Similar to priests' holy magic, but the method differed slightly.
Like dissolving a base in an acidic sea to neutralize acidity, the king's agonized body began stabilizing.
"Uh... Uhh?"
"It broke that easily?"
"What."
The mages stared blankly, unable to comprehend what I'd done.
Parel, among them, went beyond shock to analyze the events.
"Archmagic? No, not magic. Just mana manipulation? How is this even possible?!"
Unlike the mages, others looked confused.
"Hey, Leon. What did you do to get this reaction?"
As Melissa cautiously asked, I pondered briefly before offering a fitting analogy.