1
It was the dawn of the fifth day since they had come to the capital. The sixth day of the week, of which only two more remained. And for the third time now, Yuliana was summoned to have breakfast with the lord of the western continent.
Sitting at her end of the table was no longer an insecure, hesitant girl. She had scored an important point over her mighty opponent, at the most crucial moment, and it showed in the defiant composure she exhibited while cutting through her slice of toast.
Both her friends had been stolen from the Emperor’s grip.
Even if they weren’t perfectly safe, he wouldn’t be able to coerce Yuliana through blackmail, for the time being. As for herself, she had no fear.
“The tea is quite excellent,” Yuliana said. “My regards to the chef.”
The man seated opposite of her had yet to touch his meal.
The Emperor sat with a poor posture, leaning on his elbows, fingers crossed, a difficult look on his face, and wouldn’t speak. Then, after quite some time, he found his words.
“It seems we got off to a poor start,” he said.
“Oh, you think? How so?” Yuliana asked in an innocent tone.
“I very much sought an alliance with you, but before I realized, we had become enemies instead.”
“How could that be, I wonder?”
“Perhaps there may yet be a way to redeem this sorry state of affairs?”
“You mean, you are now ready to behave like a civilized person, instead of lying, threatening, intimidating, and manipulating the prisoner at your mercy?”
“I am trying to save the world,” the Emperor argued.
“If so, then are your methods not a little lacking? In humanity, at least? What is your majesty trying to save, anyway? That is a question I’ve asked of myself countless times up until this point. I confess my thoughts on the matter have been somewhat unclear as well, but I feel I’ve come across a very important point in these past few days.”
“And that is?”
“We cannot save anyone else if we are too busy trying to save ourselves.”
“Neither may we save anyone if we are dead,” he retorted.
“You should not presume yourself dead while your heart still beats. That is where all our problems begin, don’t you think? You plan by the negative. ‘Unless I do this, I will die’. ‘Unless I do that, my people will die’. ‘Unless I kill, I shall be killed.’ For a moment there, I nearly ended up going down that very same path. It is very lucrative, yes, being a pragmatist. But at the end of the day, none of this changes the reality that human lives are lost all the same. Then what does it change? Is your self-proclaimed ideal of saving all not only hypocrisy then, if not an outright lie?”
“Some would argue that sacrificing the minority to save the majority is the only correct course of action in our situation.”
“And I would argue that you are too quick to give up. How about you try and start to think of things another way instead: ‘if I do like this, everybody—myself included—can live on in peace’. ‘If I do that, then perhaps she will forgive me, and we may begin to work on this together, as we should have done from the very beginning.’ Are two heads not better than one? Perhaps the situation is not quite as hopeless as you think of it? How do you like the sound of that? Take a little leap of faith, your majesty?”
The Emperor leaned back, letting himself sink lower in his chair.
He seized his tea cup, as if hoping it contained something stronger than the Acalbain blend from Estua, and thoughtfully shook the cup from side to side.
“Late last night,” he spoke after a long moment of silence. “I found an invitation card left at my work desk. A certain marquess De La Cartá, one of the more reputable aristocrats in the Empire, is hosting a party to commemorate his sixtieth birthday at the Tenessia cathedral across the river, tomorrow evening. I had planned on declining the invitation at first, but perhaps it comes at an opportune moment, after all.”
Looking up, the man made eye contact with the princess.
“Your highness. What do you say, we start over? Forget these heavy matters for one day, and take that time to learn to know each other better? I admit I have indeed made a mistake in thinking that I could force my will onto you. I unwittingly took you for but another flower from a faraway kingdom, the likes of which I’ve seen too many, and felt the importance and urgency of our cause justified trampling over your personal feelings. And I apologize for that. I see now that this is a matter, where building mutual trust and understanding is of the essence. If you would be so kind as to accompany me to Marquess De La Cartá’s celebration, I shall do the utmost in my power to make up for my mistakes.”
Yuliana listened to him in silence, before answering,
“It is a tall hurdle you have raised for yourself. But are you not only once again dictating your will to me?”
“A proposal,” he stressed. “Which you are fully entitled to decline, if you so wish. Of course.”
The obvious effort it took for him to say that made it hard for Yuliana to hide her smile. At least he was willing to fake it, if nothing else. After the disappointment she had given him yesterday, she had anticipated much colder treatment. If not outright torture and imprisonment. But, seeing his majesty’s clumsy attempts at diplomacy, in spite of everything, Yuliana wondered if he was actually being sincere.
This was an opportunity for the both of them, and Yuliana had no reason or intention to refuse it. Although, she wouldn’t be that quick to trust him.
Now that Yuliana thought about it, it was a little strange. The power the Emperor had tried to exert over her yesterday, he already held, albeit unknowingly. Even now, Yuliana should have been bound by a geas to never oppose the Emperor’s will or interests. And yet, his words so far had borne no magical compulsion for her.
Had Lord Aiwesh’s growing power unraveled the bind of the geas?
Or—did the Emperor’s true character actually not match the expressed?
Perhaps at heart, the idea of compelling her by force was not what he wanted, and it restrained his actions. Despite his harsh presentation and intimidating appearance, it seemed he was a man of some honesty and good will on the inside. The thought of this encouraged Yuliana.
Even after everything, perhaps there was still a way for them to see eye-to-eye?
She would pin her hopes on that idea, tomorrow night.
2
Izumi didn’t learn the required runes by noon. It was closer to the end of the fifth period in the afternoon when her merciless instructor finally gave her a passing grade, with a slightly shortened list. Memorizing the characters themselves was not Izumi’s problem. Compared to the writing system of her native land, the runes were exceedingly simple in form. However, pronunciation was not her forte. No matter how she tried, Izumi had trouble nailing the correct intonation, and due to their origins in the ancient language of the Gods, the sounds of the runes didn’t match their spellings in the common tongue. Getting all the nuances right became a source of great frustration.
Nevertheless, Carmelia wouldn’t go easy on her.
“In the beginning, the words had no written form. The symbols we now use were conceived only long after, to enable the recording and teaching of the Old Tongue as accurately as that could be achieved. Over the ages, the primal origins of runic sorcery were forgotten and magicians became increasingly dependent on the letters in place of speech. Nevertheless, it is the naming of the word which executes the rune, your voice is what evokes its power. Should the spoken word not match the symbol and its definition precisely, a great deal of power will be lost. Your enemies are not so weak that you can afford to reduce the output by failing this part.”
“What about those arrows?” Izumi thought. “Mira-rin’s knights had arrows with runes that would activate when they hit the target. I don’t remember them saying anything when they were firing away. So how does that work?”
“I was the one who designed the formula behind those arrows,” the Court Wizard answered her. “To make brief of the complex matter, there is an additional schema in effect, which substitutes the ritual of naming the rune. Basically, it is not a simple rune, but a rune layered with an enchantment, charged with power. With this technique, it is possible to activate the rune independently of the caster. It was a crude, experimental solution, which has never seen success before. Thankfully, in collaboration with the other Court Wizards, we were able to produce somewhat adequate results this time round. Hopefully, as the technique is further honed, it will become a worthwhile asset against the Enemy.”
“Would I be able to do something like that?” Izumi asked. “Substitute the name-calling with something else? Then I wouldn’t have to have so much trouble with these tongue-twisters?”
“Study magic for a thousand years and then ask me again,” the sorceress dryly responded. “As you should have seen, even with six millennia of experience behind them, those arrows were unable to execute the full power of Yodith; the flame that should consume all still leaves identifiable corpses behind. It is doubtful only one would be enough to kill a daemon. As I stressed to the expedition leaders, at least four or five hits would be required to confirm the kill.”
“Well, worked just fine on humans...” Izumi sullenly remarked.
“Those arrows’ effectiveness on my own kind is no lesser,” Carmelia heard her. “Certainly, only creatures of exceptional magic resistance would be able to endure them. Therefore, even though you are learning certain defensive measures today, it would be best not to depend on them too heavily. As able as I am, I cannot hope to match godly fragments. You are and will be far from invulnerable.”
“Sure, sure.”
Late in the afternoon, when Izumi was finally done with the theory class, Carmelia took her outside, to the quiet little courtyard by the outer wall of the keep. Surrounded by tall bulwarks of stone all around, with only a few small embrasures high up, it was a suitably secluded place to test the learned materials in practice. To be sure, Carmelia drew warding runes on the walls with chalk to create a temporary bounded field, and mitigate the noise perceptible from outside.
Short-trimmed grass grew in the yard, with a few light-deprived fruit trees. By the perimeter wall, a number of wooden, vaguely humanoid practice targets were set up. Perhaps this was a place where, from time to time, the Court Wizard instructed her human colleagues and apprentices?
It was around this time that Benjamin made an appearance. The past American from planet Earth stepped out of the main building, carrying a pile of papers under his arm.
“Hello, hello...How goes the training?” he greeted the two with a wide yawn. “Dear me, could I take a day off? Can’t remember the last I felt this under the weathe—whooooa!?”
As he stopped, the young man’s black trousers suddenly dropped to his ankles, revealing his blue-striped boxer.
“Wh—wai, what? What happened?” Various documents escaping from his hold, he struggled to pull up his pants, unable to comprehend how such a thing could have happened.
His eyes soon found the answer.
“He-hee!” Standing a short distance away, Izumi proudly spun a silver-buckled belt in her fingers. “How do you like that? I’m Flash now! Fast enough to play tag with Superman! One attosecond magic trick, coming right up!”
“D-do you think that’s very mature!?” Benjamin hollered at her.
“Successful activation of Sifl...confirmed,” Carmelia noted, standing further away in the shade by the wall, barely able to contain her smile. That humored expression soon faded, however. “The strength of the effect greatly exceeds my predictions. By past reference, the rune should have increased your movement speed between one point five up to one point eight times the reference value. Yet, I would say your speed just now was approximately eighteen times your natural ability. How do you feel?”
“Now that you mention it,” Izumi said, appearing next to the sorceress. “Is this kind of speed safe? Can’t say I feel too different from the usual, but shouldn’t such sudden twists and turns break my bones?”
“Your concerns are insightful, but as I explained to you before, Sifl is not simply a rune of ‘accelerated motion’ as human scholars often misunderstand it, but one of ‘dislocation’. Not purely in the physical sense, but also in the chronological. While in effect, the magic shifts the caster apart from the natural flow of time.”
“Oh, I get it. So, basically, innate time control,” Izumi nodded. “It’s not like I’ve become any faster myself, other people just look slow to me and I look fast to everybody else. Which is why I don’t feel any Gs.”
“You grasped it unusually quickly,” Carmelia remarked, a bit surprised. “I took you for a simple idi—a mercenary, but were you perhaps a scholar in your past life, after all?”
“Wait, was there a terrible insult stashed between the lines!?” Izumi reacted. “I’ll have you know I’m definitely a genius! A hidden genius!”
“Is that so?”
“And, well, you see this kind of thing in anime a lot...”
“Hm?”
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“Can I have my belt back now?” Benjamin requested.
Izumi jumped here and there around the courtyard, innocently enjoying her newly gained ability to the fullest. But the sorceress and the man watching her failed to relate to her excitement.
“Stop that,” Carmelia commanded with sudden alarm in her tone. “Deactivate the rune. Quickly now.”
“Hm?” Izumi stopped, alarmed by the sorceress’s commanding tone. “What’s wrong?”
“No matter how I look at it, that speed is unnatural.”
“Unnatural?”
“Yes. Output of that level should drain you in a matter of seconds.”
“Er, drain me?” Izumi’s expression turned startled. “But, I thought runes were all self-sustained? Why would it drain me?”
“Wherever did you hear such an absurd thing?” the Court Wizard shook her head with a look of disbelief. “Nothing that exists can come out of nowhere. The power to create and sustain magical phenomena must always be drawn from an existing source. This is an inescapable law of nature.”
“Whaaat?” Izumi was stunned by the news. “B-but, I thought they’re called words of power because they have power of their own? I mean, didn’t they get their juice from the godly language, or whatever?”
“Were you completely asleep during the lesson in the morning?” Carmelia exhaled a sigh. “What an incredibly naive and superstitious misconception that is. How could this be even remotely true? After all, the Old Gods are long gone. How could language have power outside its speakers? Where would this energy be stored or drawn from? An axe doesn’t cut wood because it is a tool made for cutting wood, does it, even if it holds the potential? It should go without saying that force applied by a user and the material to be cut are required, before it may fulfill its function.”
“Ehhh…? But I...I thought that was the only reason I could use runes, though I can’t use any other magic.” Izumi stammered. “How does it work then?”
“Now you are beginning to see the reason to my confusion,” the sorceress replied. “The main difference between runes and conventional magecraft is that runes hold the schema that gives them shape, whereas in common magecraft that schema is provided verbally, in incantations. Perhaps that is the root of the misunderstanding? There are certain runes, that are self-sustained, in a way. Words such as Brandt or Yodith, for example. They take the energy required to work by consuming that which they are cast on—which happens to coincide with their purpose to ‘consume’. But this doesn’t mean no energy whatsoever is required from the caster. No fire will burn without the initial spark that lights it. And affirming runes like Sifl are an entirely different matter. Where else could the support for their effects come from but the person they affect? Adept magicians can draw power from their surroundings at will, but it is primarily your own spirit that the runes use for fuel. Without such a connection, nothing will come of it.”
“Ah...” Izumi’s jaw dropped. “Does that mean...I could die if I use them too much?”
“No—or so it should normally be,” Carmelia answered. “All living beings have a natural limiter to them, which makes them subconsciously close down the gate when the consumption reaches dangerous levels. Simply put, no one should be able to unknowingly use power that exceeds their capacity.”
“Right…?”
“However, even I would feel exhausted, had I used the rune the way you just did. An average human should have fainted, or died. It is possible that your body does not know how to limit the output, since you are not accustomed to using magic, but consumes the channel’s full capacity at all times. You could unwittingly burn your life away without even realizing it.”
“A…!”
“...Although, I do not perceive any notable decrease in your vitality.”
With a puzzled frown, the sorceress stepped forward and laid her hand against Izumi’s chest. The woman stiffened like a tin soldier, her face inadvertently turning bright red. But apparently thinking nothing of it, Carmelia closed her eyes and concentrated, continuing to feel the woman with the callousness of a doctor.
“This is strange,” she said after a while. “Where your gate should be, I perceive nothing. Your soul cannot be the rune’s source of power, for there is no perceptible linkage, nor any prerequisites to establish one. It does not seem that your spirit has been depleted either...”
How can this be possible?
Compared to those of Carmelia’s own kind, compared even to the other humans of this world, the summoned woman’s spirit was degenerate and bare. Like that of a small animal. It was evident that in her world of origin, spirituality played no part.
Where did that apparent abundance of power come from?
Izumi using magic was like a bird flying without wings.
Yet, it was undeniably happening.
Which could only mean one thing.
Clearly enough, Izumi herself wasn’t able to support the intensity of the magical effect as witnessed before—therefore, it’s true source had to be elsewhere.
The sorceress’s curiosity was provoked by this seemingly paradoxical discovery, and she peered deeper. Using her mind’s eye, separating her consciousness from her physical form, Carmelia observed the condition of Izumi’s soul, seeking the anomalous source of energy. And her long history as a magician made her efficient at the task.
Through the unattuned, disorderly haze of natural energies surrounding the woman’s inmost being, Carmelia soon caught sight of the out-of-place element she had been looking for.
There was a foreign channel, like an elusive, intangible string, bound to the core of Izumi’s being, trailing off into the depths of the aetherworld.
The woman’s spirit was, as predicted, connected elsewhere, and it could only be through this strange link, that the power was provided. It was a power that could not have by any means belonged to a simple human from a world that knew not the secrets of the soul.
Even now, against observed reality, Itaka Izumi should have lacked the ability to use magic of any kind; the potential she lacked had only been lent to her from elsewhere, and there was no question that some unknown intelligence was behind the arrangement.
At the face of this sudden revelation, the sorceress tensed.
As if by accident, she had stumbled upon something huge.
Was the source at the end of this path some kind of ancient artifact? An enchantment? A spiritual spring? Or another magician in person?
Where and how had this linkage been created?
Was it intentional or not? Was Izumi herself even aware of its existence?
The ability to draw energy from the primordial sources of the world was an advanced technique only the most skilled of arcanists had ever mastered, after long and onerous study. The ability to send that power elsewhere in this elaborate, subtle fashion was a mystery even greater, far beyond human casters.
Izumi shouldn’t have known about such methods.
Not any mage of the Empire either.
Then who was responsible for granting her this ability? Had this summoned woman become the conduit of an unknown, malicious being? Was that being using Izumi as its agent, to manipulate things from behind the stage for their own purposes? And what manner of a purpose could they possibly have?
Carmelia followed the faint string deeper and deeper, her mind diving through the sea of unconsciousness.
She had to find the answer.
Carefully, gently, discreetly, she felt the way forward along the channel, trying to discern its nature and point of origin. Where was the source? As subtle as the bond was, its firmness and stability implied a nearby presence.
Every magician’s subconscious thoughts and feelings were imbued in their spells, creating a distinct pattern, a “scent”, a flavor that was like a fingerprint, unique to each, and therefore possible to be identified. There was no way a bond this deep and intimate, between two souls, could be perfectly devoid of such.
Or so the sorceress had assumed.
So her vast experience predicted.
And yet, no matter how deep Carmelia reached, she could pick up no hint of the unknown caster’s identity. She sensed no malice, no fear, no pride, no glee, no memory noise, nothing that could be expected of the master of such an elaborate, skilled ruse. Rather, the further along she pursued the trail, the more ambiguous and impersonal it got, the scale and detail of it growing beyond the venues of mortal sentience.
In principle, all actions of living organisms followed a certain pulse, a rhythm. But not this line. The schema built around the spell was too regular, too concise to be the work of mindful, sustained effort. It was too clean of bias and errors, too full, even for the elder arcaenerians of the emiri to reproduce. Like a crystal shaped by the unhurried, ageless forces of nature—an effort seemingly far too refined and disproportionate for the goal of puppeteering an ordinary mortal, who hadn’t even existed in this world until two months ago.
What awaited at the other end of the cirelo’s fruitless, perplexed search was only a sense of boundless, all-embracing serenity.
Dignity.
Authority.
Unquestionable, undiluted air of supremacy.
And there, the channel and all else along with it began to fade and blend into limitless, pure white light…
“Hii——!”
Letting out a sharp gasp, Carmelia retracted her hand. She took a hurried step back, unable to conceal the terror on her face.
“Hm?” Izumi looked back at the cirelo, startled by the reaction. “W-what’s wrong?”
The Court Wizard didn’t answer.
She barely even heard the woman. Her thoughts were in the colorless void she had sensed, and whatever lurked in it. Although in was a poor choice of words. Indeed, what she had thought of only as mere background ambience, too monumental to be considered a living, distinct identity—had been the very thing she had pursued.
Carmelia cradled her trembling hand, then glanced cautiously back at Izumi.
Had she reached too far? Had the one at the other end noticed her intrusion? Or was it watching her even now, through the human’s innocent, oblivious eyes?
The champions were summoned to Ortho from another world...According to ancient lore, only spirits of the highest natural order held that ability.
Exactly who had summoned this woman?
Who or what?
The question seemed too dangerous to even be voiced.
“Er, is everything all right?” Benjamin’s voice from further back brought Carmelia back to her senses.
“It’s nothing,” the sorceress said with forceful aloofness, straightening her posture. “...Based on the results, I will impose limiters on Sifl before we make the final arc. Tripled or quadrupled acceleration should suffice to give you an edge over your adversaries, without becoming an immediate threat to your life.”
“Can’t I decide it myself?” Izumi suggested. “Even if it’s a tad risky, I should be able to pick up the pace, if the situation calls for it, right?”
“No,” the sorceress denied. “The risk is too great. If you are, for whatever reason, cut off from your source of energy while the runes are active, your soul will burn out and you will die instantaneously. Do not depend on a power greater than yourself—such is the first law of magic each aspiring mage must learn.”
“Booo...” Izumi pouted.
“On that note, I am also imposing another limit,” Carmelia continued, unrelenting. “Under no circumstances must you activate more than four runes simultaneously.”
“Eehh…?”
“That is to say, while Gefir, the root rune is required for each activation, this leaves you the maximum of three other slots that you may use at any given moment. I shall leave it up to your personal discretion which combination to use.”
“Are you nerfing me on purpose now?” Izumi asked. “I haven’t even gone competitive yet.”
“Beyond the immediate danger of your death, there can also be various other side effects to the excessive use of runes. Have you perhaps forgotten your fear of old age?”
“Old age?”
“Think of how Sifl works. While the rune is active, time passes for you a great deal faster than it does for the rest of the world. The more you use it, the stronger the effect, the faster your body ages as well.”
“Faster!?” the woman shrieked. “Not slower?”
“Of course? It is your own innate time you are accelerating. Did you not say so yourself? If it were slowed down, then the day would fly by before you realized. Did you not consider such an obvious thing?”
Her brow twitching, Izumi paled.
“I...think I got it backwards in my mind, somehow. Then...J-just now, when I was playing around, how many years were shaved off my life expectancy?”
“Who knows?” Carmelia responded without care. “Then again, your lifespan has already been greatly extended by the Cithardia sap and the Red Serum. I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”
“Well, I’m worrying!” Izumi retorted. “I’m not even forty yet and I’d like to stay that way for a while longer! I’m still young! Young, you hear me! No matter how I look on the outside, I don’t want anyone to describe me as ‘mature’! My nightmare is having kids out in the street start calling me, ‘that auntie’, instead of, ‘that girl’!? Aaaaa...!”
“...Let us continue,” Carmelia ignored her, as the woman wailed. “At any rate, the state of your vitality does not appear to be an immediate concern. We shall go on to test Osil next.”
“...You know no mercy, do you?”
“Less conversation, more action, please.”
With only sparse breaks, Izumi’s magic training continued. There was no need for any changes.
Sifl. The rune of displacement.
Osil. The rune of observation.
Gram. The rune of strength.
Mito. The rune of dispelling.
Any word of power Carmelia asked her to test, Izumi was able to cast without noteworthy trouble or signs of depletion. Even though heavy limits were imposed on most of the runes, in place of her inability to control the output, there was no denying that Izumi’s combat prowess was steadily, dramatically building up.
To a disconcerting degree, in fact.
Even though Izumi had wished to become stronger herself, the ease by which it happened unnerved and dismayed even herself. Having the opportunity to share the knowledge of a master of magic was awfully convenient. Was it really okay to get powerful with so little effort...?
While Izumi continued to try out the various runic effects, Benjamin, tired of watching, let out another loud yawn and turned to head back indoors.
“I suppose I’ll save my business for tomorrow,” he told the Court Wizard.
“If it’s not urgent,” Carmelia halfheartedly responded while writing down her notes.
Taking another step to leave, the young man hesitated and glanced back over his shoulder. Bringing his voice down, so that Izumi couldn’t overhear them, he ended up voicing a question of his own,
“...What exactly are you building that monster for?”
Closing her eyes, the elven sorceress answered in her assuring tone,
“To defeat Heaven’s Hand and slay the Emperor? As was agreed.”
“If that’s all...”
“There is no need for concern. My control over her is now absolute.”
“I certainly hope you know what you’re doing. Tomorrow is a big day. We can’t afford another disaster like before.”
“Rather than either of us, the outcome will depend on her highness, no?”
Looking sullen, the young man left the yard without another word.