The Black Mage's Shattered Past
Eugene focuses his mind on the mana gathered thickly in his palm.
And recalls it. The phenomenon I desire.
The mana drawn from all directions into his palm doesn't flow in straight lines.
Nature's mana, compressed to ultra-high density. I force it into his fist, crumpling what wants to scatter wildly.
The air above it is already warping.
—Keeein!
Mana particles clash violently, unable to overcome their mutual repulsion.
Hot heat radiates from the touching palms.
Despite the racket and searing warmth, the inside of Eugene's room remains eerily still.
"I-I'm coming in?!"
Finally, I sense the thermal energy reaching critical mass.
Preparing for release, I shout to Eugene, who might be listening.
No reply comes.
"...Argh!"
I immediately release control over the mana I'd bound in his grip.
Boom—!
A deafening roar echoes. Thanks to the mana barrier I'd set up beforehand, the sound doesn't leak outward.
The compressed mana expands, shoving away the surrounding oxygen molecules.
A shockwave generated in an instant.
Yet the burst mana doesn't scatter chaotically.
It flows along the circuit path I'd designed in advance.
Like high-pressure fluid rushing through a pipe, it leaves a vivid afterimage in the air.
"Cough!"
I wave away the hazy dust cloud with the back of my hand.
My vision clears gradually.
Eugene's room comes into view.
Scattered clothes. Torn books and snapped pens.
And furniture charred black and splintered to bits.
"What a total mess…."
Finally, in the center of the wreckage, Eugene lies sprawled.
His eyes are closed. His interlaced hands rest on his stomach.
"Hey, hey!"
I swallow the words on my tongue and rush toward him in a panic.
"Y-you're not dead, right…?"
Still no answer. Unease surges over me.
I quicken my steps.
And that's why….
—Thud crash.
My left pinky toe slams hard into the jagged edge of a shattered desk. The impact sends my slipper flying.
"Gyaaaoow!!"
Indescribable agony shoots through me. Tears spin in my eyes.
I hoist my left foot up to waist height, cradling it in my hands. Flexibility. The one perk of this young body.
Then, hopping on my right foot, I pole-vault toward the room's center.
Eugene comes into sharp focus in my vision.
Unlike our first meeting, his unkempt beard parts slightly around lips agape.
The hands on his stomach rise and fall faintly.
Proof he's breathing.
"Phew…."
I exhale in relief and press my ear to the serene face of Eugene, eyes peacefully shut.
Sniff sniff.
Breathing as calm as his expression.
"Thought we were in deep shit…."
Tension drains away. My legs give out.
I plop down beside where he lies.
"Hiss…."
Clutching my throbbing pinky toe with both hands, I slowly lift my head.
The room is a disaster zone.
Over plaster dust from gouged walls, everything lies in ruins.
Regaining composure, I spread mana to scan the space.
Twisting my head this way and that, I assess the situation.
First, signs of intrusion. None.
No strange footprints or external energies leaking in.
Except for the door I just blasted open.
Instead, what I sense is the magic power from Eugene at our first meeting.
A vivid purple mana, pungently sharp.
"What the…."
The implication is clear.
The one who trashed the room like this? Eugene himself.
Irritation flares. I close my eyes, recalling the academy's code of conduct.
One line in particular.
In cases where a student disrupts the academy's order or challenges the authority of an educator, the professor may employ magical and physical means to administer immediate correction.
"……Hey."
Even my quiet final call goes unanswered. Eugene doesn't stir.
Sure, he has his reasons. That's why he wrecked his own room.
But so what?
'I got scared for nothing…!'
Turning the dorm I manage into this is a clear challenge to my authority.
Eugene wanders a pitch-black void.
An abyss of darkness.
Impotent muck like a swamp holds his feet fast.
—Now we're playing hide-and-seek, got it? If you're caught, it's a hundred lashes!
Within it, Eugene fights alone. Against his past.
Not even writhing is allowed amid the chest-ripping pain.
That was the curse of those who dabbled in black magic.
Black mages must hate something all their lives.
For their mana was born of hatred. Their magic, riddled with the urge to destroy everything.
Eugene confronts his past in the darkness.
It was around age five.
In the ruins of his home, hiding under the floorboards, Eugene received mana’s choosing.
Not ordinary mana. Magi.
Hating the world, he was naturally chosen by magi.
Hating is easier than loving.
That was why Eugene's growth, embracing hatred, was meteoric.
Sensing his power had grown enough, he set out after the raiders who destroyed his village.
Despite tracking by memory alone, he made progress.
At nine, he severed the limbs of the raider who'd beheaded the village elder.
At thirteen, he drowned the mage who'd burned the herb-gathering auntie.
With each kill, Eugene grew stronger. Magi devoured him greedily.
At sixteen, he tore apart the commander who'd ravaged his mother.
"Hah, ha."
It felt exhilarating. The magi that chose him was dearer than anything.
Eugene stomped the commander's head into the mud. And wondered.
…What do I hate now?
That was when it began.
The magi, already blackening his heart, started whipping it.
Nightmares plagued his dreams. Air stabbed his lungs with every breath.
Seek vengeance, magi whispered endlessly.
But against what?
—Everything.
Why?
—Because you must.
Eugene accepted the whispers gladly.
His aimless hatred first turned to the raiders' homeland.
You should suffer too.
A simple thought. A vicious one.
Eugene felt it when he gripped the commander's wife's throat, info from a family photo.
She trembled violently. Yet she spared him no words, no glance.
Instead, she smiled faintly somewhere.
Toward a wardrobe in the corner.
Two pairs of eyes from within. Like his own child self.
"…Fuck."
Eugene fled without destroying anything. And felt deep disgust.
At nearly making the same choice as the raiders he hated. At feeling no revulsion in that moment.
It was utterly repulsive.
So he ran. From himself, from black magic.
But the magi that had devoured even his heart pursued relentlessly.
A cure?
…As if.
Those who learned black magic were subject to summary execution.
Eugene fought nightmares nightly, learning new spells.
Magi resembled mana so closely, he just repeated the same path.
Could he suppress magi with mana? Failure.
Eugene fully adapted to new magic in the winter of his sixteenth year.
He applied to the academy.
Hoping high rank and imperial office might yield a way out.
Even knowing it wouldn't.
Eugene's desperate struggle.
He took top spot. Professors called him a pearl in the mud at entrance exams.
Not even they could pierce a master black mage's disguise.
"Pearl… what bullshit."
Just thrashing in the muck. Meaningless flailing after all.
Eugene closed his eyes as black tentacles coiled around his unconscious mind.
The black mage's endgame: demon.
He'd soon lose reason. Wander solely to destroy.
"Should've just died alone quietly somewhere."
Shouldn't have even tried living.
As Eugene murmured regrets, facing his fate—
—Slap!
Impossible pain stung. From his cheek.
"What…?"
"What? Whaaat…? Hey!! Get up?!"
With it, hearing he should've lost long ago.
At the shrill shout ringing in his ears, Eugene's eyes snapped open.
His ruined room appeared. The one he'd sealed himself upon sensing danger.
And his body felt strangely light.
The magi gnawing at him had receded, if only a little.