Chapter 3

Chapter 3

THE NEXT DAY, I was scheduled to meet with the Sorcerers’ Guild. Clara and a young sorcerer I’d never met before were waiting to welcome me when I arrived. I’d traveled by carriage—Ild had insisted.

“Wow! So, you’re Lord Margilus? I’m Tasim, the fourth seat,” said the gangly young man in a somewhat high-pitched voice. It was rare to see someone in Sedia wear glasses…

I’m not sure why, but I get the feeling he’s the type who means well, but can’t pick up on social cues. There were a bunch of guys like him in my old tabletop group back in college.

“Heridol is still out attending to another matter,” Clara told me. “Would you mind waiting here for a while?”

“Oh, please do,” Tasim exclaimed. “You could show me some of this strange magic of yours while you’re killing time!” Uninhibited to the point he didn’t even notice Clara’s icy glare, Tasim, and his overly friendly demeanor, was like a breath of fresh air. I guess all those eyes constantly judging me were starting to fray my nerves.

Not only did I take a shine to the lad, I figured Clara and the other sorcerers undoubtedly shared his curiosity. Bearing this in mind, I answered, “Very well. I shall stay and show you my magic.”

“Excellent! Then let’s go to the training grounds!” Tasim exclaimed excitedly.

Sorcery in Sedia was a special ability that required the caster to control mana that existed within his body and the natural world. All sorcerers were capable of seeing a “sorcery frame,” which not only revealed their mana reserve, but also what spells they could use.

On the other hand, my magic was the art of drawing chaotic energy from beyond this reality. In order to do so, I had to pass through the Gate of Magic constructed in my inner world to delve into the chaotic realm.

For the record, the mana used in sorcery and the more chaotic mana used in my magic referred to two completely different kinds of energy. For simplicity’s sake, the guild and I had decided to refer to mine as “magical power.”

If I investigate the rules behind magic and sorcery, perhaps I could uncover part of why the Watcher transported me to this world.

Aside from that, one other thing was weighing on my mind. Inside the daemon-spawning nest, I’d found something that closely resembled my Gate of Magic.

All in all, there is a great deal I must learn.

***

We relocated to the training grounds, a spacious room the size of a small sports field. Of a mind to sate Tasim’s curiosity, we dove into the “experiments” straightaway.

“Keep it as small as possible, okay? Don’t put all your might into it,” I pressed.

“I know!” Clara snapped.

A thin, misty white barrier covered my entire body, including the arm I held out. The barrier was created by the Rank 9 spell Invincibility. According to the D&B rulebook, the effects of the spell “nullified the attacks of low-level magic and normal weapons.” But when I was on the receiving end of the offensive sorcery spell Icia Bolza, the barrier failed to block its ice arrow. Ever since, I’ve simply assumed that my magic couldn’t block sorcery. However, when he heard about my past experience, Tasim insisted we put it to the test. That was how I got stuck waiting for Clara to unleash a fireball at my arm…any second now.

“Falbolza Jeera!”

“Ouch!”

A fireball about the size of my pinky finger shot from the end of Clara’s staff. Despite its small size, the flame mercilessly broke through my barrier and burned my upper arm.

It’s like a cigarette burn… Although I’d never had to suffer such cruel brutality, I suspected the jolt of pain in my arm felt pretty similar.

“O-oops! Sorry about that!” Clara apologized, sounding surprised.

“I told you it wouldn’t work,” I grumbled.

“Now, now. Just remember the valuable information we’re obtaining from this,” Tasim reminded me. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

The small burn vanished without a trace, thanks to the potion I drank, but it did nothing to wipe away the nasty glare I was shooting at Tasim. Not that it ruffled the young sorcerer’s feathers any.

After that, I created ogres, summoned elementals, and demonstrated a wide array of spells. In exchange, I had Tasim and Clara show me some of their sorcery.

***

Our findings from the various experiments were more or less as follows: I couldn’t use Dispel Magic to nullify a stone pillar created with sorcery. However, I could use Destruction or Mana Bolt to destroy the aforementioned pillar. Even if I used Analyze, I still couldn’t see the mana native to Sedia—and we already knew that sorcerers couldn’t see my magical power.

From the look of it, magic didn’t differentiate between stones or fire created by sorcery and their counterparts in the natural world. While Invincibility could nullify a magic-based attack like Fireball, it would dismiss the sorcery equivalent, Falbolza, as just the flames from a torch or forest fire.

We discovered another huge difference between wizardry and sorcery: spell duration. All of my spells could only last for a designated period of time known as their “duration.” But notably, there were exceptions to this rule, such as Wall of Stone. A stone thus created never disappeared. Then there were spells with permanent duration, such as Permanent Light.

Sorcery, on the other hand, didn’t possess any spells that lasted perpetually. There were incantations to create defensive stone pillars or walls of ice, but they were only sustainable for a brief period. Generally, after a few minutes, they would “return to mana.”

“In other words, sorcery could be described as the art of sorcerers exerting their will to temporarily transform mana into different substances,” I summarized.

“That sounds about right. It’s common sense for us sorcerers, but after seeing how your magic isn’t necessarily transitory, I’m starting to feel sorcery has some substantial drawbacks,” Tasim replied.

“It’s outright illogical for the effects of his spells to last forever,” Clara snapped.

To be fair, sorcery more or less observed the law of conservation of energy. I couldn’t say the same for magic…

“I guess you could say it’s magic because it doesn’t make logical sense.” I recalled how, back in college, my game master would declare that in frustration whenever we got into heated arguments about the D&B magic system.

“For our last experiment, please cast Dispel Magic on these two materia,” Tasim requested.

“What are they?” I was feeling a touch weary as Tasim laid two items—both materia—before me. One was a battered greatsword, and the other was a new staff.

“This here is your typical sorcerer’s staff,” said Tasim. “A powerful curse is placed upon the other, making it a cursed sword. There actually is some logic for why I picked these two…but I’ll tell you after the experiment.”

Carved from special wood, the staves used by Sedian sorcerers were their most important tool. In general, sorcerers used the mana that flowed through their bodies, but it was possible to draw on supplementary mana that accumulated in their staves. Yeah, this sort of thing is pretty common in tabletop RPG magic systems.

I’ve never seen a cursed sword in this world before… Then again, this looks about the same as any other sword, so far as I can tell.

“Doesn’t Dispel Magic nullify magical power? I’d like to see what happens if you use it on these,” Tasim urged.

Seeing as this world’s materia functioned by eliciting the effects of mana, there were next to none with attributes that lasted indefinitely, much like how there weren’t any permanent spells in sorcery. Even cursed swords either required the wielder to channel their mana into the blade or possessed a limit on how many times they could be used.

“…As a consequence of this spell, all sources of magic within a three-meter radius will return to the void. Dispel Magic.”

Fortunately, none of my rolls for an activation check thus far had ended in a fumble. The dice tumbled favorably once more, releasing chaotic energy from the spellbook archive constructed deep within my consciousness. That energy engulfed the two materia.

“Wow!”

“My, my!”

I could see the chaotic energy—my magical power—but not the Sedian mana. As a result, I had no idea whether or not Dispel Magic actually worked on either of the materia.

“Just as I suspected,” Tasim exclaimed. “It had no effect on the staff, but eliminated the mana in the sword!”

“…You were expecting that to happen?” Clara asked dryly, giving a bored shrug in response to the excited young man.

Uh, what just happened?

“This sword wasn’t materia created by a sorcerer. Long ago, a warrior went berserk and slaughtered his lover and friends before chopping off his own head… It is said this is the cursed sword he used,” Tasim explained.

“I was testing with something that dangerous?!”

It was painfully clear that the sword and staff had been created under different circumstances, but what did that mean to me? Before I had a chance to ask, Tasim smugly proceeded to explain. “Although rare, there are instances of mana operating to create supernatural phenomena without the involvement of sorcery. The appearance of spirits, monstrosities, and even curses like the one that was on this sword are all good examples.”

“I personally believe it only looks like mana is operating, but the fundamental cause lies elsewhere,” Clara interjected.

“Agreed. And I bet that ‘fundamental cause’ is a form of power that your magical power is able to interact with. Who knows? Maybe it’s the same thing!”

“Hmmm…”

Something about the explanation didn’t feel quite right, but the takeaway for now was that my magic was effective against magic in this world—or at least, supernatural phenomena akin to magic. Come to think of it, my Dispel Magic was able to free Reyha and the other dark elves from the daemonist’s brain-washing.

“Honestly, I don’t think I’d ever get bored studying you!” Tasim leaned forward. “Lord Margilus, would you consider joining our guild?”

“…N-no, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”

***

Tasim showed me a wide variety of materia. Among those items, one in particular caught my eye: an iron doll that used mana to move. In other words…it was a golem.

“Hmmm, this reminds me of a marionette,” I observed.

Tasim agreed. “In reality, the only difference is that one uses strings and the other uses mana!”

Using the mana from Tasim’s staff as a power source, the man-sized iron doll rattled and clanked as it walked and ran. The sorcerers in this world apparently did indeed refer to these mana-based remote-control dolls as “golems.” The golems and constructs of D&B—entities that could follow a given set of orders in perpetuity—were still a distant dream.

“It’d be hard to fight daemons with one of these,” I noted.

“But I’ve heard it is possible,” Tasim argued, “at least for sorcerers who are highly skilled golem masters…”

The two of us carried on discussing the vagaries of spellcraft until at last we received word of Heridol’s return. I was already beat, but the main reason I’d come was to speak with the branch president of the Relis Sorcerers’ Guild. I couldn’t turn tail and run now. Without so much as a word of complaint, I made my way toward the familiar hall on the top floor of the main building.

Heridol, the branch president, was there to greet us. “Welcome, Lord Margilus.”

“I-It is good to see you again,” stammered Yahman, the vice president.

“I am glad you were able to join us today,” finished Nasaria, the third seat.

The same officers as last time were waiting for me around the round table. Heridol, a handsome middle-aged man with golden locks, offered me his usual smile. It brimmed with confidence. But if you ask me, that smile looks awfully forced. Apparently, he was jealous of the way people treated me like a hero… I swear, if he knew half the troubles I’ve had!

Yahman’s smile was even more transparently false, but the smile that graced Nasaria’s lips hinted at more amiable feelings. Clara and Tasim took their seats next to the others, while I sat down across from Heridol to commence the meeting.

***

The agenda for the meeting was twofold. First, exchange information regarding wizardry and sorcery. Second, establish a cooperative relationship with the Relis Sorcerers’ Guild.

I insisted on skipping the exchange, given the wealth of information Tasim and I had exchanged prior to the meeting. This sent Yahman into a vicious tirade about how Tasim acted on his own without consulting the others first.

Ever since my first meeting with the guild, the prospect of forming a cooperative relationship between us had been on hold. I’d served the ball when I made that proposal; now it was their turn to hit it back.

“First, allow me to present our collective decision: The Relis Branch of the Sorcerers’ Guild has officially decided to cooperate with you in order to combat the daemons.” Heridol spoke with crisp formality, but I sensed a certain reluctance somewhere in his words.

“…I am glad to hear it,” I replied cordially. “I greatly appreciate your decision in this matter.” I expressed my gratitude with a heartfelt nod.

I was filled with the desire to bow and say, “Thank you for your kind consideration!” to each of the officers. That’s what we did in formal business meetings back in Japan, but I managed to resist the urge.

Clara spoke up then, eyes on Heridol. “By the way, what precisely does this ‘cooperative relationship’ entail?” As the fifth seat, she ranked as an officer, but apparently, she hadn’t been informed about the guild’s decision beforehand.

“About that. We would like to entrust one of our sorceresses to Lord Margilus,” Heridol answered.

“Excuse me?”

“Feel free to have her deliver messages to us, and lend aid in your battles against daemons,” Heridol continued.

I see what’s really going on here. Whoever it is, I bet her duties will include keeping a close eye on me and gathering information. I suppose I don’t see any harm coming from that, at least. It would be nice to have someone on hand who could tell me about sorcery.

“Furthermore, we would like to—and do forgive me if this comes across as insulting or presumptuous—test whether it is possible for us to learn your own magic.” Heridol spoke without a hint of hesitation, the others bobbing their heads in agreement. Only Clara showed any uncertainty, her eyes flickering to either side. I think it’s safe to say they made this decision beforehand, and she was kept out of the loop.

“That’s the test you’re after, is it…?” I peered back at Heridol. “Even if it would take a considerable length of time?”

Back when my gaming group and I were fleshing out our magic system, we went so far as to devise the training regimen magic users followed to reach Level 1. Looking back, I think it’s amazing we put so much thought and detail into the backstory. If all those steps were followed, there was a possibility that the people of this world could learn my style of magic. On the other hand, I’d feel awful if we ultimately discovered Sedians can’t learn it, and years were wasted on training.

“We are fully aware of that possibility,” Heridol answered. “Don’t you intend to return to Castle Getaeus before long? You could impart your wealth of magical knowledge from the comfort of your own castle. Likewise, our appointed aide will be able to teach you about all manner of sorceries.”

“You’re assigning a member of the guild to live in my castle?” It came as a surprise to me. “Are you sure she doesn’t mind?”

“Of course she doesn’t mind. Isn’t that right, Clara?”

“Gah!” When she heard Heridol call her name, Clara cried out like a spooked cat that had just been dunked in ice water.

She definitely didn’t see that coming.

“Wait!” Clara protested. “No one ever mentioned this to me!”

“Th-then let me go instead,” Tasim volunteered, raising his hand emphatically. “It sounds positively fascinating!”

“Stay out of this!” Clara snapped.

“Aww…!”

What the heck is this? A sketch comedy routine?

Heridol inclined his head. “Clara, would you not agree that you are on more intimate terms with Lord Margilus than anyone else in the Sorcerers’ Guild? You are indeed the best candidate for the task at hand.”

“Intimate?! …Well…I suppose you might possibly be able to say that…maybe…relatively speaking, anyway…” Clara mumbled out her words, toying with her long blonde hair. It was an unusually cute gesture for the haughty noblewoman.

Objectively speaking, she didn’t seem upset by the prospect of accompanying me to Castle Getaeus to study magic… In other words, she wasn’t averse to the idea of living with me for the next several years. Hmm, she might actually—no, of course she isn’t interested in me like that. But at the very least, she had told me once before that she had high expectations for me. Combined with her strong interest in magic, she truly was the perfect candidate.

“Lady Andell, your presence would be most appreciated. Furthermore, I have no qualms about teaching you magic.”

“I-If that is how you feel,” Clara conceded weakly.

If we proved that the art of magic could be acquired through study, that alone would shake the Sorcerers’ Guild to the core. Bearing that in mind, I felt far more comfortable teaching Clara than someone I hardly knew.

“Now that we have that out of the way,” I said, “I would like to discuss the Relis City’s—scratch that, the entire Ryuse Alliance’s anti-daemon countermeasures.”

“Oh, would you now?” For some odd reason, Heridol started beaming as I moved things along to the next topic on the agenda. (Meanwhile, I hadn’t even gotten halfway through my words before Clara started glaring furiously and Nasaria began snickering.)

“Truth be told, our branch runs a sorcery school. It is currently implementing revolutionary teaching methods of my personal design,” Heridol boasted.

So the Sorcerers’ Guild has been embarking on new endeavors in its own right. I felt mildly impressed.

“We refer to those who come out of this program as ‘Mage Knights.’”

***

I started to develop a basic understanding of the Mage Knights courtesy of the boastful explanation provided by one Heridol Sylem, president of the Relis Branch of the Sorcerers’ Guild.

A sorcerer’s training and development was usually split into four stages. First, they had to learn to sense and control their own mana. Second, they had to obtain the ability to perceive something known as a sorcery frame. Third, they had to comprehend the symbols on the sorcery frame known as sorcery code and manipulate them. Finally, they had to be able to organize the sorcery code and release mana according to the mental image derived from that combination.

Those in the first stage were apprentices, while those in the second stage were journeymen, and those in the third stage were adepts. Upon entering the fourth stage, they finally earned the title of true sorcerer.

It generally took anywhere from two to five years to progress from one step to the next, so it would take at least eight years of training to create a single sorcerer. As if that weren’t bad enough, the weeding-out process was so ruthless that only one in several dozen made it all the way from apprentice to sorcerer. Although sorcerers were the most powerful figures on the battlefield in Sedia, their education required too much time and money.

“Realizing this, I decided to look at the education system from a completely different angle,” Heridol explained passionately. “I asked myself, ‘So long as we produce a viable force against the daemons, who is to say they must be full sorcerers?’ Wouldn’t it be possible to train students to use one or two simple spells without being able to recognize sorcery frames?

“And it is indeed possible! They just have to be able to sense mana! Then we can forcibly implant data for the sorcery code, along with the image of the spell! The subjects are admittedly unable to independently organize or identify sorcery code, let alone learn new spells. However, their capabilities are more than sufficient for soldiers! Above all else, their brief training regimen means we can quickly increase their numbers. Mage Knights will be the ultimate means for exterminating the daemons!”

“……”

The Mage Knights would be incredible if they truly were that strong and easy to train. Yet the looks of distaste worn by Clara and the sorceress who served as the third seat implied there were some unspoken flaws.

“In the War of Loss—the battle against the daemons ten years ago—Relis City suffered terrible losses. The Calbanera Knights proved to be of little value, making it clear to me that our fair city not only requires forces independent of that order, but also capable of smiting the daemons. Mage Knights can commence training as young as eight years of age. Transforming children normally incapable of combat into invaluable allies on the battlefield is one of the major merits of this program.” Vice president and second seat Yahman wore an ingratiating smile as he made this outrageous declaration.

Eight years old?! I get that humanity is at war with the daemons and all, but isn’t training little kids to be soldiers a bit much?! …Wait, what if that’s normal here in Sedia…?

I needed more information. “So you start training children at an early age? How do you go about recruiting them?”

“Naturally, we recruit volunteers. Children from the nobility and high society, distraught over the state of our city. They volunteer to take up arms, so that they might become the shield of Relis.”

Clara stared daggers at the man. “I’ve noticed the recruitment pool has grown rather more diverse, of late.”

“Well, yes… This project is all about numbers, after all.” Yahman dabbed at the sweat that sprang up on his brow, practically wilting under Clara’s scrutiny. Jeez, this is growing shadier by the second.

“Hmmm…” I grumbled to myself, arms crossed. I have absolutely no intention of taking part in a venture that promotes child abuse. In fact, I’ve half a mind to demand they shut the whole operation down right this instant. But it’s easy to say that when you’ve lived a peaceful, modern-day life. Would my sentiments change if I wasn’t so coddled?

What if they truly need this?