Chapter 54
Chapter 54
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 54
Chapter Title: Footprints in the Mindscape
-----------------------------------------------------------------
In recent days, he'd been trapped in magically created spaces far too many times.
First by Ezekiel, second when he touched that ancient pipe in the sewers, and now by Ariella.
‘This is similar to the second one.’
Only his mind had moved, not his body. A form of mental manipulation.
Suddenly, their master came to mind.
The mage Jeremiah.
Former Tower Master and Archmage.
His specialties were spatial magic and mental magic. His two disciples had each inherited half of his lineage.
Did that mage also enjoy suddenly imprisoning people like this?
[No headache or dizziness, right?]
Ariella's voice buzzed from all directions.
The space was shrouded in multicolored mist, but nothing about it felt particularly uncomfortable.
“You really take after the priest, Tower Master.”
[That... might be one of the worst insults I've ever heard.]
“...You hate it that much?”
[More than you can imagine, dear.]
It didn't seem sincere. A hint of amusement laced her voice.
“So what am I supposed to do?”
[Simple. Just escape from here.]
“The pinnacle of continental mental magic? Isn't that asking too much of a rookie who hasn't even entered the tower yet?”
[Your master wants special treatment, so I'm giving it in kind.]
“Wasn't it your promise in the first place, Tower Master?”
[That was then. This is now.]
Ariella's voice fell silent.
In the hazy space, Damian was truly alone now.
Damian spent a moment observing his surroundings without acting.
‘No attacks coming my way.’
But that made it even more troublesome. There wasn't a single clue to escaping this space.
‘Nothing in particular stands out.’
He cast Black Magic - Gaze, but found no leads. That was how perfected Ariella's spell was.
Whoosh. Damian's right hand burst into flames. Hellfire could burn anything with form. It made no difference that this was a mental world.
Destroy the very structure forming the mental space, and the magic would collapse.
In fact, during his guerrilla days, Damian had shattered an enemy's mental domination this way.
“...Failure.”
Damian shook his head, enduring the scorching pain.
It wasn't that he couldn't burn the space's structure. Ariella repaired it far faster than he could destroy it.
-Okay, think about this. Someone charges at you with a knife. What do you do?
-Dodge, dodge it.
-Right answer. But speak up louder. What's a grown man mumbling like that for?
Suddenly, Ezekiel's explanation from the past resurfaced.
The weak illegitimate child days, constantly watching his step. To the Damian now, it was over a decade ago.
-Anyway, when an attack comes, reacting to it is natural. Even a great mage like me, or a talentless flea like you.
The irritation he hadn't felt back then surged up with it.
Paradoxically, that shock was why he remembered it even now.
-The mind works the same way. You wouldn't just stand there if someone charged with a knife, no matter how strong they are. So, how does the knifeman guarantee a stab?
-I... don't know.
-Think before you answer! Don't just reflexively spit it out!
-Um... stab me from behind?
-Bingo, you blockhead. And that's the key to escaping mental magic.
-W-What does that mean? I'm already stabbed.
-Mental worlds aren't like reality; getting stabbed doesn't kill you instantly. It takes time. But once stabbed, hunting the culprit is pointless.
“Find the footprints instead.”
Follow those footprints, and you'll find the knife that stabbed you. To escape mental magic, pull out that knife.
"Footprints" was metaphorical for the series of processes the caster used to activate the mental magic.
Intervening in another's mind isn't easy. So, they reduce resistance through those steps.
Ezekiel taught reversing the process to dismantle mental magic.
But no magic tome recorded this method.
Traditional counters to mental magic were two-fold.
One: avoid it entirely. Per Ezekiel, honing reflexes.
The other: interfere with the mental world's structure, like Damian had tried.
But both were useless against a vastly superior opponent.
Especially against the era's top mage, whose specialty was mental magic—Ariella.
‘So that's what he meant by his last words.’
But Damian was different.
Thanks to Ezekiel's teachings, he could cope even against overwhelming skill.
‘Not that it's easy.’
If finding footprints were simple, textbooks would cover it.
The fact they didn't meant internalizing this method was extremely inefficient.
It was barely even magic. Most thought training it was less worthwhile than learning other spells.
Ezekiel was the exception.
Thinking back now, had he researched it to counter Ariella?
“Alright, let's begin.”
Thousands of footprints appeared before Damian's eyes. Fortunately, his body remembered Ezekiel's method.
Looking back, he'd learned much from Ezekiel.
Not mere wordplay—he could truly call him his master.
* * *
“This crosses a line, Tower Master.”
Ezekiel scowled. Ariella, meanwhile, remained serenely composed.
Damian stood asleep beside Ezekiel, ensnared by Ariella's mental magic.
“Don’t you trust your disciple, Ezekiel? If he follows your teachings faithfully, nothing should trap him.”
No one in the chamber agreed.
The mental magic Ariella used was "Heartscape," her unique spell.
Even though its principles were published in papers, only she could wield it.
The gathered Tower councilors knew once trapped in Heartscape, escape was impossible. The only defense was avoidance.
Damian had no chance to resist. It was obvious.
No matter his talent, he couldn't surpass Ariella's lifetime of experience.
The moment she cast it, his tower entry was effectively denied.
So the councilors maintained composure.
Provoking Ezekiel here risked unknown disaster.
“Was my attending this banquet so loathsome? All those weird conditions tacked on.”
Indeed, this regular assembly's banquet was odd. Mages had to bring disciples, who needed partners. Unprecedented in Tower history.
All conditions set by Tower Master Ariella. Those who knew her were baffled.
“Those were terms I figured even you couldn't weasel out of, no matter your tricks. Yet here you are.”
Ariella's eyebrow arched playfully. Ezekiel's forehead vein throbbed.
“I have to attend. Something to claim.”
The banquet would decide a certain "item's" fate. Ezekiel visited the Tower after decades for it.
“There are ways around it. Tower Master, councilors, guardians are exempt...”
Ariella smiled brightly, continuing.
“And next Tower Master candidates too.”
Ezekiel's face twisted grotesquely; other councilors gaped.
“Tower Master, you mean...”
“You're naming Ezekiel next Tower Master?”
“Only a candidate. Doesn't the current Master have nomination rights?”
Technically correct. But Ezekiel as candidate changed everything.
No councilor had escaped his irascible temper unscathed.
Him as Master? The Tower's doom.
“Quit those faces. I’ve no interest anyway.”
Ezekiel glared. Ariella just smiled.
“I offered a path. Your choice.”
Eyes shifted to Damian. He breathed shallowly, statue-still.
-For now, denied.
Councilor Mateus scribbled on his notebook with a quill. A magical device to communicate with his disciple, Rubia.
-Thank you for honoring my request, Master.
-No need. You've never asked before; of course I'd help.
Thinking of his disciple always lifted Mateus's lips.
-Odd, though. You blocking Damian Renekht's entry.
Mateus knew Rubia's obsession to some degree.
Seeing Damian, he understood her reaction.
-My disciple has her own plans. No need for you to worry, Master.
-Fine, fine. It's your doing.
Honestly, even if Rubia spent a night with Damian, Mateus wouldn't fret.
Whoever became Emperor, Rubia was destined as next Tower Master and Archmage.
No—history's greatest mage.
Mateus, her master, would be eternally remembered too.
Ezekiel as Tower Master? Absurd. After Ariella, only Rubia fit.
-Master? Something wrong?
Lost in pleasant reverie, Mateus's hand trembled at the sight before him.
“Wh-what... Good lord.”
“Is that possible? Ezekiel! Did you pull some trick?”
Other councilors couldn't sit idly. The scene defied common sense.
“He really taught you well.”
Tap-tap. Damian's fingers drummed his thigh.
Eyes still closed. But movement meant partial escape from the mental grip.
Could he truly unravel it? Ariella's Heartscape, history's mental magic pinnacle.
-Master? Why no reply?
Mateus couldn't continue with Rubia.
All focus on the miracle unfolding.
Minutes passed.
“...Why is everyone standing?”
Damian looked around, puzzled. Councilors exchanged uneasy glances, unsure how to react.
“How’d you do it?”
“Found the footprints.”
“Ha, you mad bastard. You actually remembered that.”
Even Ezekiel hadn't imagined cracking Ariella's Heartscape this way.
Of course, it wasn't just his method.
It demanded immense patience—Damian's strength as a black mage.
“The test is over. By the Tower Master's discretion, Damian Renekht's tower entry is approved. This temporary meeting ends. You two, follow me.”
Ariella swiftly dismissed the councilors.
“Such a shame...”
“Wished we'd gotten a chance to...”
They hid disappointment poorly. Eager for Damian's Heartscape escape secret.
Above all, they were mages. Curiosity for magic unmatched anyone.
“Pahaha! Well done, you rascal. Your master’s proud.”
On the 49th floor, en route to the Tower Master's chambers, Ezekiel's laughter echoed the wide corridor.
“Bet the Tower Master’s rattled. Throwing a tantrum in front of her junior and eating crow.”
Ariella walked ahead steadily. Ezekiel wouldn't let up, needling verbally.
“No, public formalities over—can call you sister now, right? Sister Ariella. Never raised a disciple yourself, yet critiquing masters? Makes sense?”
Ariella halted. Crack. Damian sensed something snap within her.
“What? Guh—!”
Crack! Spinning, Ariella smashed Ezekiel's crown with her fist.
He staggered and collapsed, splayed like a frog in harsh sunlight.
“What kind of tea do you like?”
As if nothing happened, her innocent smile.
More terrifying than in the chamber.