The Intermediate Exam
"First, we must choose which authority of the contracted demon to borrow. That’s where we begin."
"Does that mean only one?"
"In most cases, yes. The price for a demon’s favor grows exponentially. Want more power? Expect an even steeper price. You’re the demonologist, after all—you know better than anyone."
*Sorry.*
*I don’t know any of that stuff.*
"So, borrowing a demon’s power to create magic means we’re starting with what authority of the demon we’ll imitate. First, we study the demon’s strength properly."
"Then what happens after that?"
"We negotiate. Once you have an image of the spell, you’ll pay a price for its use. In exchange, make sure the magic functions. Don’t worry—the magic of demonologists isn’t harder to craft than anyone else’s. We leave the complicated mana formations and magic circles to the demon and simply prepare the price."
*Now that makes sense.*
*That was the advice I needed—bone-deep.*
*[Exactly…]*
*But that’s not the part you’re supposed to accept, Seir-nim, right?*
*…That’s disrespectful.*
§
I’d had more than enough time, yet I still hadn’t finished the spell.
Why had I learned how to create magic from Fiona and still couldn’t manage it?
Because Seir’s authority was simply too vast.
Depending on which authority I chose, the concept of the magic I forged through the contract with Seir changed.
*Fortune to guarantee material abundance, detection of the hidden, dominion over winged steeds…*
Seir herself was an almost limitless well of power. Her authorities stretched out far and wide.
There was no choice but to agonize.
But right here, right now.
My worry vanished.
*I’ve decided.*
*[Speak, my contractor.]*
I had no way to avoid that attack.
I’d cast a mana shield, but my instincts screamed the truth: it was useless.
So what I needed right now was…
*"The authority of movement. I want that."*
*[A wise choice.]*
The moment Seir’s answer came back.
It felt as if her hand had touched my back.
Cold yet warm.
Heavy yet light.
Still yet moving.
The mana flowing through the contract brushed across every nerve, then sank straight into my brain.
Lightning cracked through my synapses.
The fastest reaction center in the brain handled life support.
At the same time, it regulated the state of awakening.
Consciousness surged forward.
*I know what to do. How to do it.*
And the instant the realization struck, I acted.
**Scaaaak!**
"What?"
The voice of the dazed man echoed through the chamber.
It made perfect sense.
He’d believed he’d landed a sure hit. That strike had missed.
And in the blink of an eye, he’d missed me again.
It wasn’t high-speed movement.
This was something entirely different.
*Space teleportation.*
Not the kind of speed anyone could chase.
The fragment of authority Seir had permitted was pure, impossible mystery.
Even when used by me, it remained a miracle whose principle was utterly unknown.
I gave it a name.
*"Name…"*
Every spell needs a name.
A name that defines its mystery, locks its form, and anchors the phenomenon in the world.
Once established, the spell reproduces that same mystery again and again.
And for this magic, there could be only one name.
*"Blink…!"*
*[La Traviata!]*
W-what?
"What? La, what?"
*[La Traviata. The Wandering Woman! Don’t you know, my contractor?]*
I nearly screamed at the glitchy bastard.
No. Short-range space teleportation is always Blink.
That fact was recorded even in ancient Goryeo pumpkin lore.
Not Blink?
Five hundred million Roll users would have risen from their seats.
Besides, I wasn’t even a woman.
*"Blink. I can’t let you have that."*
*[You haven’t read Verdi’s opera La Traviata? How could you, contractor! Cultural shock, no, cultural collapse…!]*
*I don’t know any of that…*
*Here it comes again!*
**Fwoosh!**
My vision flooded black for an instant, then snapped back.
The psycho’s attack had carved through empty air where I now stood.
His face, once grinning while he murdered people, had turned ice-cold.
Anyone who’d seen it twice would understand.
The magic I’d just cast.
"Yo, what are you? How did you… space?"
The man asked with visible shock.
I answered exactly as he had.
*"Method? Is that important?"*
*"...True."*
**Kiiiiiiing—**
Aggressive noise erupted around the psycho.
Like a circular saw roaring from a machine.
*Battle mage? Or an elementalist who controls wind?*
**Zwaaaak!**
No time to think. A flying slash charged in.
**Fwoosh!**
I teleported again.
This time I didn’t stop. I immediately discharged the compressed mana I’d gathered.
**Booom!**
Hit.
*But it’s weak.*
The mana bullet couldn’t pierce his defense.
He wasn’t like the low-level newbies I’d faced before.
Unlike the fresh-faced rookies still unused to the Abyss, this veteran had walked the dungeon’s depths, killing countless people.
His mana defense operated on a completely different plane.
"I see. So you’re a demonologist. Fine. Space teleportation is no spell a faithless mage can use. That earlier attack was demon power. How many more times can you cast it?"
The man relaxed once he realized the source of my magic.
Anyone who borrows a demon’s strength must pay a price.
Even pulling mana alone carries a cost. The price for touching a higher-dimensional domain like space teleportation would be enormous.
He was probably thinking that.
The fact that my attack had failed only fueled his excitement.
"Come on! Come on! Look! Keep using it!"
Laughing like a fool, he unleashed wild gusts of wind.
**Fwoop—Fwoop—!**
Blades of wind slashed from every direction.
The moment I used Blink, I had to use it again immediately.
*This is a problem.*
I was getting dizzy.
It felt like riding the same ride over and over.
My body didn’t move, but my vision changed in an instant. The mismatch rattled my brain.
I staggered from vertigo. The man laughed and shouted.
"Hah! Already at your limit? A bug like a demonologist dares to touch space—and this is what happens!"
He was absolutely thrilled.
Even a slight stumble and he started giggling like he’d already won.
*I need to raise the power of the mana bullet.*
Compression alone wasn’t enough.
Even shooting from fingertip felt blocked.
*Can’t shrink my fingers right now.*
Then…
*Rotation.*
The image of the mana bullet was a gun.
And guns had been revolutionized by engraving rifling.
The bullet now traveled farther and struck harder.
This was the same.
Add rotation.
Of the four fingers, index and middle had the straightest line; ring and pinky twisted like rifling grooves to impart spin.
The rotating mana bullet streaked forward and slammed into him.
**Clang!**
The sound was different.
Unlike the earlier strike that had shattered like a powerless egg hitting stone, this one actually shaved off his mana defense.
Enough force to create real danger.
If it hit the same spot again, the bullet would reach his flesh.
He realized it too.
The man’s smile vanished. He suppressed his excitement and regained his composure.
His eyes darted around me.
But he wasn’t looking at me.
"You seem to have made a big mistake."
He’d seen me Blink, so he must have panicked.
The stinging power of my spinning bullet had him convinced he could kill me here.
I understood.
Even I thought my scam was pretty convincing.
*Dizzy from space teleportation?*
*I can’t stand it.*
But he couldn’t.
"Here. You’re not the only one."
As I spoke, a clear voice rang out from the corridor behind him, connected to the chamber.
"Undine! Pierce through!!"
A roar sharper than the psycho’s wind blades exploded, followed by a torrent of water.
While I bought time, Undine had compressed the massive volume of water she’d gathered into a single point and fired it.
**Fuhwaaak!**
It pierced his mana shield, then his flesh itself, turning the water body red with blood.
"What?"
*That’s why spirit magic is terrifying.*
Not because the spiritist was strong, but because he commanded a powerful spirit.
In that case, the reverse happened far too often—strong spirits made the spiritist their puppet.
Fortunately—or perhaps inevitably—Leaf’s spirit was faithfully fulfilling its role.
"Yo, you…!"
The man turned his head to glare at Leaf.
Even I, who wasn’t the target, felt goosebumps from that thick killing intent.
How about Leaf facing it head-on?
"You, I’ll…"
**Kiiiiiiing—!**
In his dying moments, the man redirected the mana he’d gathered to intercept me toward Leaf.
A blade born from forcibly rousing the dying spark of life spun with ferocious speed.
Leaf, hardened by the killing intent.
He couldn’t even lift his feet.
The man fired multiple spinning blades at him.
*"No."*
**Fwoop—!**
*"You die alone."*
**Fwoop—**
Two Blinks.
That was enough to nullify the man’s final desperate struggle.
* * *
Blink (La Traviata)