"...You. Where did you come from?"
It felt as if my heart sank with a thud once again.
She had tossed the words out as if they meant nothing, but there was unmistakable weight behind the question.
'Don't tell me... she found out?'
My mind tightened rapidly.
What on earth made her ask something like that?
Could she see my original world just by looking at my magic?
Or had I given myself away without realizing it?
Could there have been other people from another world besides me?
As chaotic thoughts whirled through my head, she looked at me, unable to answer, and opened her mouth.
"Your body structure is... a little strange."
"...Pardon?"
"The direction mana spreads from your heart, the way it circulates, the flow. It's a bit outside the framework of an ordinary human."
As if drawing something in the air with her finger, she slowly added,
"It happens sometimes. Descendants of the 'Baiken' from across the northern sea, or lines related to the 'Libellians' who supposedly vanished from the central continent. Children who inherit that blood have different body structures from the start."
She studied my face carefully.
"If you're from that side... honestly, it makes sense. It explains to some degree why that method of magic is possible."
I couldn't say anything and merely moved my lips.
...Baiken? Libellians?
They were all names I had never heard before.
Really, it felt like a story that had absolutely nothing to do with me.
But soon, I recalled the records left behind by the owner of this body.
It said he had been an orphan.
No parents, no place of origin.
All that was written down was a single name.
...In that case, maybe even the original owner of this body had lived his whole life without ever knowing that he wasn't an ordinary human.
I swallowed unconsciously.
"...I don't really know."
Her expression did not change.
She merely raised her hand quietly and tapped a spot near my wrist, where my pulse beat.
"Here. The mana flow is a little strange."
"...In what way?"
"In an ordinary human, mana starts from the heart, rises along the spine, passes beneath the head from there, and spreads out to the limbs. Literally, it circulates through the body in a circular pattern."
She moved her fingertip along my arm as if drawing a line.
"That's the natural flow. Mana has to circulate inside the body for it to be handled stably."
Then she moved her fingertip to the nape of my neck.
"But with you, the mana doesn't go through the spinal cord... It first slips out to the 'outside' of the body. It follows a strange path, circles once, reaches the heart, and only then scatters through your whole body. The kind of thing that has that flow is—"
And she added firmly,
"Divine power. That kind of structure usually appears in priests or clerics."
For a moment, it felt like my breath stopped.
"It's a structure that draws mana in from the outside through a god as the medium. But you don't look like you believe in any god, and you don't have even a trace of that damn Order's unique aura."
Her brows narrowed as she finished speaking.
"It's strange."
I couldn't say anything.
Well, it wasn't as if I had anything to feel guilty about... I was just bewildered.
There were too many new things I had to learn, like mana this and divine power that.
My head was practically overloaded right now.
"Usually, mana settles in slowly from childhood. As it's tamed around the heart, each person develops their own unique method."
Leaning back in her chair, she looked up at the ceiling and muttered,
"But you don't have any trace of that at all. It's as if your body originally had no such thing as mana, and then at some point it was forcibly injected from the outside."
More than the fear that my identity might have been exposed, each and every one of her words seemed to be revealing truths even I hadn't known, and my mind grew increasingly blank.
As if talking to herself, she quietly reached a conclusion.
"In short, it's not something you were born with. It's an artificially made mana ring. The ones who do things like that are always the same."
And finally, she said clearly,
"The ones I mentioned earlier. Those bastards who stole the method of gods and twisted it for their own use. Only them."
...So, to summarize, she was saying that the way my body used mana resembled that of foreigners from some far-off land I didn't even know.
From my standpoint, after hearing everything she said—
'Honestly, so what am I supposed to do about that?'
That was the first thought that came to mind.
It wasn't even clear whether that method was really correct, and even if it was, there was nothing I could do about it right now.
Most importantly, just because I heard one piece of information like that didn't mean my situation would change all that much.
If there was one fortunate thing, it was that she hadn't discovered the fact that I was "from another world."
That was about it.
As I kept my head lowered in silence, she tossed out one final remark.
"Wherever you came from, that body. It's a bit of a waste to just use it as is."
"...My body?"
I asked back with a puzzled look.
"That... method you were talking about just now. Is there something good about it?"
To be honest, she'd said all sorts of things about mana and flow.
But I still didn't even properly know the first thing about mana.
There was no way I could possibly judge what was good or bad.
"Sigh. Looking at that stupid head of yours, Baiken seems even more likely."
...As expected. She never gave a straight answer right away.
As if she couldn't be satisfied unless she attached an insult to every question, she practiced a perfect one-question, one-insult policy every single time.
'What the hell is Baiken, that it's used like some standard for stupidity...?'
As I grumbled inwardly and averted my eyes, she muttered as if to herself.
"The body is rare, but the head can't keep up. Awkward to use, too wasteful to throw away."
"...Could you not say throw away...?"
"Then keep quiet. It'd be a loss if you exploded while I was using you."
She sprang up from her chair and tapped the dust off her staff.
Walking silently toward the cabin door, she threw out a single sentence.
"Come on. I'll take another look outside."
"...Again?"
"Well, if only you'd remembered properly, we wouldn't have to go through all this trouble."
I jumped to my feet and rolled my shoulders once.
The pain had mostly faded, and my movements felt natural.
'What is she planning to make me do this time?'
Following the hem of her robe as it disappeared through the doorway, I once again felt keenly that this place was different from the world I knew.
***
When I left her cabin, a broad space that could be called a yard came into view.
A dirt ground where low grass grew in sparse patches.
Between the weeds sticking up here and there, only the sound of dry blades of grass crunching beneath my feet lay over the scene like background music.
She stood in the middle of the yard.
And on the dirt at her feet, she was drawing something with a dark red liquid.
The liquid was as viscous as blood, and from the tips of her fingers, clear curves continued like carefully calculated line segments.
It looked like she was drawing something like a magic circle, but no matter how many times I saw things like that, they were still fascinating.
I was someone who used magic too.
But honestly, my method was closer to simply pressing a skill button with a click.
I didn't know exactly why it activated, nor could I understand its structure.
I just used it because it worked.
In that sense, what she was drawing now smelled like real magic.
The process of designing something, calculating it, and bringing it to completion.
That wasn't the "magic you use" that I knew. It was "magic you handle."
"...What are you doing?"
I asked without realizing it, but without raising her head, she tossed out one word.
"A test."
That short answer only made me more tense.
She finished the curve with her fingertip, then carefully retraced the line so the red liquid would not spread.
Soon, a complex magic circle formed from overlapping circles and letters was completed on the ground.
"Get in."
Without even lifting her head, she pointed with her chin toward the inside of the magic circle.
"...Me?"
"Yes. I made it because of you, so you should get in."
As if this were only natural, she lifted her staff and stepped backward, securing some space.
I cautiously stared at the center of the circle woven together by those thin red lines.
I wasn't scared.
But how should I put it? There was a strange ominous feeling, as if I were stepping into something unknowable.
"Hurry."
At her brief urging, I eventually carefully set foot onto the magic circle.
The moment my foot touched inside the line, the entire magic circle began to glow faintly and vibrate with a low hum.
After swallowing a breath, I stepped fully inside.
Only then did she nod and begin chanting in a low voice.
"Si anima turbatur, et fluxus in corpore vagatur..."
'Her chanting really does sound cool.'
As that useless thought passed through my mind, Malay, having finished reciting the spell, activated the magic.
"Vefanir Style · Detection Formula—[Confirmed Sacrifice]."
The ominous words reached my ears, and my body flinched instinctively.
I wondered if I should run away immediately, but the magic circle only flashed briefly, and I didn't feel any particular threat.
Truly, the magic circle flashed once, wrapped around my body, then slowly scattered and disappeared.
Compared to the time spent preparing it, it felt almost anticlimactic.
But she was staring intently at my face as if the magic had activated properly.
Keeping only her gaze fixed on me, without a word.
Just as I was wondering whether I could move and was about to speak—
"...Strange."
She quietly murmured a word.
"What?"
"There are clearly traces of something interfering from the outside... but I can't identify the source."
Malay continued speaking as if reaching a conclusion, still without withdrawing her gaze.
"If you were Baiken or of Libellian lineage, traces of the mana of those fake gods should remain. But... there's none at all. What on earth are you?"
I didn't know how I was supposed to answer her.
In the end, it meant I wasn't of that sort of bloodline.
To begin with, I was gaining power through the concept of leveling up.
Unless there was some precedent, it was only natural that she couldn't grasp that structure.
Malay tapped the end of her staff with her finger and sank into a brief silence.
"In any case,"
She finally opened her mouth.
"The flow of mana inside your body isn't normal."
"Is that so? Then... what kind of problem does that cause?"
Honestly, just being told it was bad didn't really hit home.
I had to be told in concrete terms to understand.
"It means your growth is blocked. A normal mage raises their rank according to the circulation of mana and their enlightenment. But you are merely enduring with power gained from the outside—in other words, power that isn't yours."
"Ah..."
To put it in company terms, it was like getting hired through nepotism thanks to the company president being my father, only for that father to suddenly disappear.
My company life—that is, my life as a mage—was properly fucked.
But there was something she didn't know yet.
'For me, I can just level up.'
I wasn't someone who grew stronger through training or refined mana flow like an ordinary mage.
Judging from what she said, that method did sound much more efficient, and it probably wouldn't hurt my body as much.
...But what could I do? Since things had already turned out like this, I had no choice but to fight my ass off.
Apparently, she took my silent, thoughtful appearance as me "despairing over my blocked growth."
Perhaps that was why she offered words of comfort, unlike her usual self.
"Tsk, tsk. What kind of man falls into despair over something like that? There are plenty of people in the world far worse off than you!"
Of course, it was a bit hard to call that comfort, but at least her intention was clear.
"Besides, there are guys who fight and get by just fine with a single piece of trash magic. In the end, it's all... up to how you do it."
"...Is that so?"
I wasn't particularly despairing, but it felt wrong to ruin the mood in front of someone who had gone out of her way to comfort me, so I responded in a slightly gloomy voice.
More than that, what kept weighing on my mind was this:
Someone who fought with a single spell.
Judging by Malay's tone, it wasn't a simple metaphor.
It strongly felt like she had said it while thinking of someone real.
Could a mage really fight with only one spell?
"Then will I... never be able to learn magic for the rest of my life?"
At my question, she propped up her chin and fell into thought for a moment.
"Hmm..."
Then, soon after, she spoke cautiously.
"If you apply it well according to the method those bastards used, it might be possible."
"Baiken?"
"Yes. Them. In any case, only the method is different. The principle itself isn't vastly different. I'm not certain, but... if you want to learn, it would be right to seek them out."
There was no immediate need for me to learn magic.
But it was right to leave the possibility open.
I couldn't keep relying forever on only what was given to me.
This wasn't a game. It was reality, plain and simple.
To survive in this world, I had to run on my own two feet and carve my path with my own hands.
Just like when I learned blunt weapon arts.
By clashing head-on myself.
...Though my iron mace was practically gathering dust.