“More importantly, what do you mean, ‘these days’? Has something happened among the mages recently?”
Ian asked. Eric pondered for a moment, then answered as he searched his memory.
“It’s because the hunting season is about to begin. It’s not something special that only happens this year, so you don’t need to worry too much.”
“Hunting season? What are they hunting?”
“...Ah, damn it. Come to think of it, you said it hasn’t even been a year since you became a mage.”
After muttering that, Eric turned to Ian and kindly explained the hunting season to him.
“The hunting season is something like an event where those involved with the Mysteries track down and kill mages.”
“...What?”
Ian’s face twisted at the completely unexpected answer. Whether he did or not, Eric folded his arms and calmly descended the stairs.
“You know this well enough too, but in truth, among those connected to the Mysteries, the most valuable are mages. Knights or murim practitioners? Those bastards have merely trained their bodies and learned breathing techniques. Since they can’t properly use the ether in the air, they accumulate it in their bodies through other methods. Using it that way ultimately ends, at the final moment, with their bodies unable to withstand the accumulated ether and exploding.”
“...”
“And what about psychics? They are monsters born innately close to the bizarre. They use powers not permitted to humans, and in exchange, side effects manifest as well. To erase those side effects, they need to refine and drink the ether contained in a mage’s heart. Since they only have to drink it once a year, you could say the cost performance is fairly good.”
“...Do all psychics have side effects?”
“No. No, rather, it would be more accurate to say most of them don’t. The gap in psychics’ abilities is extremely severe.”
Splash.
Eric stepped into a puddle. Drops of water scattered in every direction.
“Side effects only come to psychics with powerful abilities. And mages usually find and kill such people in advance. Astrologers. You’ve heard of them, haven’t you? Following the guidance of the stars, they find and kill psychics who are likely to harm mages before they can do so. But they don’t succeed every time, so most of the survivors entrust themselves to certain organizations.”
“And those people participate in the hunt?”
“That’s right. Well, even aside from that, there are plenty of bastards who join simply because they hate mages.”
Before they knew it, the entrance to the Owl had revealed itself clearly. Instead of going straight in, Ian leaned against the wall and spoke with Eric, who stood opposite him.
“The Clock Tower doesn’t stop it?”
“If I’m going to talk about that, I’ll have to start from the very distant past. Is that all right? It’ll probably take about an hour.”
“Summarize it roughly.”
“Then, well. For about five hundred years, the Clock Tower made efforts, and the heads of those who made those efforts were the first to fly. That’s all.”
Eric shrugged and shook the drops of water from his shoes. Ian thought silently for a moment, then stared at him with sharp eyes.
“I understand why psychics hunt mages. Then what about the other physical ability users? In other words, the knights or murim practitioners you mentioned. Why do they try to kill mages?”
“To them, mages are the evil of society. Still, those with some sense of reason don’t go so far as to kill acquaintances in ordinary times. Rather, they tend to hide them.”
“...And priests?”
“They look the other way. We’re lucky they don’t participate.”
“Haa.”
Ian let out a deep sigh and tilted his head back.
He had intended to rest sufficiently for a while after catching Irene. But because of the information he had obtained unintentionally, it seemed he would have to protect himself before he began the pursuit. He didn’t like it, but he had no desire to catch the hunters’ eyes for no reason and get dragged into unwanted battles.
‘It would be one thing if my body were in perfect condition, but right now it’s close to the worst. Internal injuries can be treated quickly with medicine, but magic is the problem. There are still restrictions on re-creation magic.’
The restrictions he had gained as the price for rewinding the world’s time were still binding the grimoire like shackles. By feel, they seemed likely to disappear soon, but not now.
Of course, even in his current situation, he didn’t think he would lose if he fought someone. Rather, he would likely be able to cut them down and obtain information. But if such battles continued one after another, even Ian would find it troublesome. It wasn’t as though there was no possibility at all that the location of his house would be exposed.
‘The ether in the workshop... can’t be helped. Would it be better to dispel as many of the spells in the house as possible and act like an ordinary person...? Mm, I’m not sure. There’s no way there aren’t artifacts that detect magic...’
Ian organized his thoughts for a while, then clicked his tongue and raised his head.
‘I’ll have to think over the next course of action again once I get home.’
At the very least, it wasn’t something to keep agonizing over here. It would take too much time.
He set his thoughts aside for the moment, looked at Eric, and tilted his head.
“When does the hunt start?”
“From tomorrow, for 168 hours. In other words, one week.”
“Does Korea count too?”
“It’s a worldwide event. Why would this place be an exception?”
Eric gave a faint laugh and straightened up.
“It’s not just knights and psychics who are the problem, either. The bizarre will take the opportunity to rush in, and other mages will happily come looking as well. If I give you one piece of advice, trust no one and let no one in. Except for people you can truly rely on, that is.”
“...I’ll keep that in mind. More importantly, are you all right? As the gatekeeper of the Clock Tower’s official shop, I’d think you’d be exposed to quite a bit of danger.”
“I can protect my own body well enough.”
“What about Amelia?”
“Is that child a mage?”
“Mm.”
A sound argument.
Ian nodded and pushed his back away from the wall. Just then, Eric smiled and tossed out a remark.
“Still, she does have mage’s blood in her, so some incompetent fools might target her.”
“...You.”
“Don’t worry. This bookstore has quite a lot of defensive magic cast on it. They’re covert spells the Clock Tower personally came and cast. You probably didn’t notice them either. I don’t know them myself.”
“...Wouldn’t it be better to send her back to her parents?”
“She has no parents. They died in an accident a few years ago.”
“Tch.”
She was born carrying every last tragedy, wasn’t she? Ian shook his head and pointed at the firmly shut door of the Owl.
“Just open it.”
“Very well.”
Eric placed his hand on the door and pushed it lightly. The sensor attached above the door checked Ian’s face and trembled as if having a seizure, then fully opened the door without a second’s hesitation.
“...It doesn’t often open completely like this, honestly...”
Leaving Eric’s muttering behind, Ian entered the Owl. Eric shrugged and went upstairs.
*
As soon as Ian entered the familiar corridor of the shop that looked like an underground prison, he headed toward the destination he had already decided on.
Jingle.
With a clear chime, the door slowly opened, and a cat lying on the counter, stretching lazily, turned only her head slightly to stare at Ian.
“What is it, nya? A customer, nya?”
A black cat with a tiny witch’s hat pulled low over her head. She stared at Ian with a sullen expression, then recognized him and brightened.
“Oh? It’s the handsome oppa, nya? Long time no see, nya. Have you been well, nya?”
“Well enough. What about you? I heard the hunting season is coming soon.”
“Don’t worry, nya. My main body is in the Clock Tower. Even hunters don’t come all the way inside the Clock Tower, nya.”
“Then that’s a relief. I don’t want a useful shop disappearing either.”
“Nya-nya-nya-nya! You say such pleasant things, nya! I’m in a good mood now, nya. Here, a service, nya. Take it, nya.”
Whoosh.
She tossed Ian a cigarette. Ian nodded in thanks, lit it familiarly, and took a drag. The familiar scent of lemon filled his mouth.
“Now then, shall we get to the point, nya? Is there something you’re looking for, nya?”
“I came to buy something to use for hunting mages.”
“Oh, are you participating in the hunt too, nya?”
“No, not exactly. It’s for personal reasons. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t pry any further.”
Ian answered while loosening his stiff wrist. She giggled.
“That look in your eyes. If I ask just a little more, you seem like you’ll grab me and kill me on the spot, nya.”
“...”
“More importantly, mage hunting... Mm, for starters, what I recommend are magic materials made through the bizarre and parchments, nya. They’re newly stocked items, nya.”
“Parchments?”
“Those, nya.”
Ian turned his head toward where she was pointing. There, parchments of far poorer quality than paper were rolled up and stuck in place like umbrellas.
“Parchments containing magic. Just by unfolding them, you can immediately use the magic written on them, nya. They don’t consume ether and have no side effects, so combat mages tend to use them a lot, nya.”
“Sounds good. What kinds of magic are there?”
“They’re all combat-type, nya. But before you unfold the parchment, no one knows what magic is recorded inside, so you have to gamble a little, nya.”
At the explanation that followed, Ian furrowed his brow.
“...What kind of risk is that...”
“It can’t be helped, nya. This is reality, so you can’t find things like ‘all-purpose scrolls!’ like in games, nya. Only the maker knows the magic written on the parchment, nya.”
“Where are those makers?”
At Ian’s question, she tilted her head to the side.
“They’re all in the Clock Tower, nya. But the guys who usually make parchment scrolls are scum who can’t use magic directly, so sometimes even they don’t know the proper effects, nya. And since these guys belong to an unpopular school and are consumed by inferiority complexes, they don’t interact with other people at all, nya.”
“They’re a handful in every possible way.”
Ian let out a hollow laugh and dropped the rough parchment he had been holding as if tossing it away.
At that moment, a relatively clean notebook beside the parchment scrolls caught his eye. Ian blinked and pointed at the notebook with his finger.
“What’s that?”
“What are you talking about, nya...? Ah, that? That’s a notebook for recording magic, nya. No matter what magic you write in it, it never disappears, and the pages are nearly infinite, so it can be used permanently, nya. Most importantly, any magic recorded in there can never be forgotten, nya.”
“...Ho.”
Interest appeared in Ian’s eyes. Noticing this, she trotted over beside the notebook.
“As you know, if you normally use magic on clothes or paper, the magic circle disappears before long, nya. But not with this, nya. Just like a grimoire, magic recorded in it once remains permanently and can be passed down to later generations, nya.”
“The effect is quite good. Why is something like this in some backwater in the East instead of England?”
At his question, she grinned.
“I swiped it, nya. From Master’s storeroom.”
“...Huh.”
“I hear it’s a notebook personally made by a great mage in the past, but if it wasn’t going to be used, wouldn’t it be better to sell it instead, nya? So I stole it, nya.”
“If you get caught, you’ll die.”
“It’s not a crime if I don’t get caught, nya.”
That was also true. Ian laughed softly.