The flow of the intermediate magic spar was not much different from basic magic.
“Let the lowliest devour the most high. For predation is none other than the stirrings of life.”
A ritual magic performed by offering a large quantity of blood and his remaining fingernails as sacrifices. The magic circles engraved on the gauntlet emitted light, and the bizarre insects flying through the air twisted grotesquely. As if they had become a single weapon, those with all their legs, horns, carapaces, and the like honed to sharpness fell upon Ian all at once.
“Hmph.”
Ian gazed at them with an indifferent expression and activated the magic he had completed beforehand.
“My flesh is solely for Him. Lowly creatures cannot gaze directly upon my body.”
Shhhhhhh…!
Pure white mist burst out around Ian. In an instant, his figure was obscured and vanished into the fog. The bizarre insects that inhaled the mist paused briefly, then began attacking any moving things they saw nearby at random. Ian was not among them. Even with Ian standing right beside them, the insects could not perceive him and devoured only their hapless kin.
After a few seconds like that, no more flying insects remained. Ian trod upon the bugs strewn across the floor, killing them, and walked toward David.
Unlike the rest, Ian could move through the inside of the mist calmly without any problem. He suffered no obstruction to his vision. As if nothing existed at all, his sight was impossibly clear.
Conversely, what was reflected in David’s vision was pure white and nothing else.
The white smoke scattered the falling light and completely obscured the interior of the mist. There was not even the sound of footsteps or the slightest movement of the fog. Rather than swaying with the wind, the mist merely spread slowly in the direction Ian walked.
“……How absurd.”
David let out a deep sigh. At the same time, a sharp axe blade bursting from within the mist tapped the nape of his neck.
It was a light touch, just shy of cutting him. David smiled bitterly and raised both arms, from which blood dripped steadily.
“I surrender. I lost.”
“A shame. I thought we could go up to advanced magic.”
“Don’t lie. You knew you’d win anyway.”
“Is it that obvious?”
Ian let out a short laugh and withdrew the axe he had been holding to David’s neck. The mist cleared, and the bugs sprawled about like corpses were fully revealed. Green bodily fluids were scattered about like grass. David clicked his tongue at the sight.
“They were precious ones…… I’ll have to gather them again…….”
“For the record, I won’t help. You’re the one who requested the spar.”
“I wasn’t expecting it, you bastard.”
“Then we’re good.”
Ian put away his grimoire. David also removed his gauntlet and stuffed it into his pocket. Blood flowed from where his fingernails had been and dripped onto the floor. Perhaps it wouldn’t clot; the bleeding was more than expected.
Still, since David seemed fine, Ian didn’t bother interfering and moved toward Amelia and Iseo-a. David picked through the scattered bugs, recovering those that were still breathing or in relatively decent condition.
The sight of him picking up bugs with bloodied hands could be seen as quite pitiful, but there was no one particularly worried about him.
“Oppa. Are you okay?”
Amelia asked with an anxious expression. Ian smiled gently and stroked her hair.
“I’m perfectly fine. Not hurt at all.”
“Really……?”
“Of course. See, not a scratch.”
“Hmm…… You’re right. Thank goodness.”
Amelia let out a breath of relief and gently hugged Ian. Iseo-a watched the scene with a faint smile playing on her lips.
“Both of those were magics I hadn’t seen before. Have you developed them further?”
“They’re magic that already existed. They work well, but since I have much better ones, I simply never had a reason to use them.”
“Ah…… That makes sense.”
Iseo-a recalled the sight of Ian remodeling space entirely with his hands and summoning a monster called the ‘Producer,’ and nodded.
Indeed, if he could use such magic, there was no need to bother with other magic laboriously. If he needed simple, brute force, he could use summoning magic; if improvisation was needed, he could use recreation magic—so what reason was there to use time-consuming ritual magic in real-time combat?
Ritual magic wasn’t well-suited to chaotic combat where the situation changed from moment to moment to begin with. Unless assisted by grimoires on the level of the Lemegeton or the Book of Moses, ritual magicians mainly employed a strategy of establishing a stronghold and using a “come at me” approach.
As for Ian, he could switch between ritual and incantation magic however he wished, so it was a non-issue for him.
Changing the operating method might give him a headache or cause internal injuries, but his body’s ether wouldn’t boil over and turn him into boiled meat like other magicians. He was certain of that, having tested it many times so far.
“It was an excellent spar. ’Tis been quite some time since this one’s fighting spirit has boiled over.”
Uhyeon, who had approached Ian unnoticed, spoke. His black pupils flickered with vigor.
“If possible, this one would wish to spar with thee as well, but it is not proper to propose consecutive spars to an opponent who has already fought once. Therefore, this one requests a spar with that maiden.”
Reflected in his pupils was precisely Iseo-a’s face. Iseo-a let out a short laugh and swung her legs.
“Me? Are you serious?”
“This one is aware that the odds are unfavorable. A spar between a necromancer and a curse mage is ever thus. Curses do not take hold upon souls without flesh.”
“And you still want to spar with me? You’re going to lose for sure.”
“To quell a fighting spirit already aflame, one must sometimes douse one’s body with water, knowing full well one will get wet.”
Uhyeon smiled faintly and gripped his prayer beads like brass knuckles. Iseo-a looked up at him quietly from her seated position, then stretched with a smirk.
“Don’t regret it, monk.”
“I shall not.”
“A cool, concise answer. I like it. Take your stance.”
She took out bone powder from her pocket and moved to the clearing. Uhyeon followed her.
“Ah, shit.”
Seeing the two approaching, David hurriedly cleaned up the area. Ian glanced sideways at him rushing over, then looked at Uhyeon and took a seat in the chair alongside Amelia.
‘So he was a curse mage.’
Curse mage. Literally, a magician who handled various types of curses.
In game terms, they were supporters who applied debuffs, a class far better suited to battle support than actual combat. Compared to other battle magicians, including necromancers, they were lacking in many ways.
Moreover, curses had compatibility that was nearly the worst with necromancy.
‘Curses fundamentally only apply to living creatures. They do not work on ghosts who are already dead and have only souls remaining.’
In short, Uhyeon’s magic was effectively sealed entirely.
But Uhyeon didn’t seem to care about that in the slightest; he laughed refreshingly and began chanting. Iseo-a also scattered bone powder and moved her lips.
“Ye who have entered the wheel of cycle. I sever thy reincarnation; dwell within my hand. Blood flowed like a river.”
“Ye souls who desire resentment and revenge, gather here. Flesh and blood have been prepared for thee.”
Puhwak!
Souls poured out like waves from beneath Iseo-a’s feet.
The prayer beads Uhyeon gripped shattered, and blood poured like a waterfall from his fist.
Plague blood that melted flesh upon mere contact and inflicted all manner of diseases. Yet the summoned souls showed no signs of being cursed; rather, they cut through the blood and charged toward Uhyeon.
Following the rules, he hadn’t moved an inch until victory or defeat was decided, and the vengeful spirits’ claws surged right to the front of his neck.
Just before they made contact, the souls turned into bone powder and scattered. Iseo-a stood behind the barrier of souls blocking the bloody water and smiled brightly.
“One to zero.”
“This one feels splendid.”
Uhyeon smiled back and dispelled his magic.
*
That morning in London was unusually clear. Sunlight gently illuminated the spring-welcoming earth, pierced through the window, and brightened the dark interior of the room.
“Hwaa…… This is nice…….”
Pleas lay sprawled across the desk, quietly soaking in the sunlight. Her bright green hair drooped with gravity, and light fell diagonally across her languid yet happily relaxed face.
“I really do need to sunbathe like this sometimes…… I can’t even remember how long it’s been since sunlight came into the Clock Tower.”
The sun didn’t rise often in London. Blame the smog oddity born during the Industrial Revolution; thanks to that, the sky was clear only about two or three times a month.
Clearing the oddity would normalize the weather, but since it would simply be reborn, it was only a temporary measure.
Still, a clear day was better than a gloomy one, so it was right to enjoy the present.
Pleas stretched fully and shook her arms and legs.
Then, among the variously colored cat dolls placed on the desk, a Persian cat doll with an American flag sticker vibrated briefly.
It meant a customer had arrived. Pleas pouted and stretched out her empty hand, lightly touching the doll.
“Thy flesh shall soon become my flesh.”
The moment she uttered it, her consciousness flickered.
Her vision, when she opened her eyes, was excessively low to be called human. Moreover, all four limbs were planted on the ground, and fluffy fur covered her entire body.
What was there to hide?
Her soul had entered a cat.
“Meow.”
Pleas immediately got into character upon entering the cat’s form and stretched fully. Her stiff body loosened up, and she hopped onto the counter of the general store. At the same time, the shop door opened and a customer walked in.
Black hair, black eyes. An American magician who was nothing particularly special. The moment he entered the general store, he barked at Pleas in a commanding tone.
“Three elf hearts, two ouija boards, and one kilogram of crow jawbone powder. Hand them over.”
“Meow. That’s 350,000 dollars total, meow.”
Instead of answering, the man tossed his card. Pleas skillfully caught it, roughly shoved it into the reader, and sat in the loaf position.
“Payment accepted, meow. Take the goods yourself and beat it, meow.”
Again, no answer came. The man wandered the shop alone, stuffed the necessary goods into his bag, took his card, and left. Pleas watched his retreating figure and groomed herself with a listless expression.
‘There’s no need to deal with trash like that emotionally. Well, most magicians are like that anyway.’
She stroked her white whiskers with her front paw and suddenly thought of the magicians in Korea.
Dolores, Alisa, and Shin Ian.
Of them, only Shin Ian was a native Korean, but overall, Korean magicians generally tended to have decent personalities.
Of course, there were many who didn’t, but on average, Korea ranked quite high. The population was small, so there weren’t many customers either.
Personally, she wished other countries were similar to Korea.
Of course, it was an unrealistic wish with little meaning.
Srrrk.
Pleas lay her body on the cat sofa below the counter and severed the connection. Having returned to her human body, she deeply sank into her chair and let out a long breath.
“Seeing myself think like this, I suppose it’s about time for a vacation.”
The moment she muttered that inadvertently, her door suddenly burst open and a long-haired man strode in. Pleas was startled.
“Ah, shit! You scared me! What the hell?!”
“It’s the Tower Lord’s orders. Pack your bags, shopkeeper.”
A man with swept-up platinum blonde hair, green eyes, and characteristically sharp, unpleasant eyes said that outright and placed the documents he was holding on her desk. Pleas furrowed her brows as if asking what nonsense he was spouting.
“Why pack bags all of a sudden? I haven’t done anything wrong! I haven’t even been experimenting recently!”
“Stop chattering and read this. The Tower Lord wrote it personally.”
“The Tower Lord?”
“Read it instead of asking.”
The man spat out with a sigh-laced voice. Pleas grumbled and read through the documents he had placed down.
[Recently, an unidentified abnormal ether reaction occurred in Korea. Since no reports of a mad magician have come from the Bureau, it is likely a grimoire of the Lovecraftian line; please go retrieve or destroy it. If it is not Lovecraftian, please investigate and report.]
[Assigned personnel: Deckren and Pleas.]
[Pleas is to officially assume the position of Gatekeeper of the Owl, not provisionally.]
That was all there was. Pleas stared blankly at the documents for a while, then blinked and turned the paper this way and that.
Then she discovered a small line of text written on the upper part of the back.
[It’s really true, Pleas.]
“Ah.”
Her face contorted horribly.
+
Pleas here!