Bohn grabbed Ethan by the collar and dragged him into his room, shoving him against the wall.
“That’s not a very funny joke,” Bohn said.
“Do I sound like I’m lying?”
“Wouldn’t it be better if you were? If you were telling the truth, I might have to kill you to keep your mouth shut.”
“Not a great idea.” Ethan smirked. “Would I approach you, knowing your secret, without a plan? If something happens to me, a letter will automatically be delivered to someone.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Do you have any proof that I work for the Imperial Inquisition?”
“You have a very precious book, don’t you?”
Bohn drew a dagger.
“How do you know about that…?”
“Like I said, I’m a well-known scoundrel. I’ve been short on money lately, so I took a look around to see if there was anything valuable in other people’s rooms.”
Bohn remained as level-headed as Ethan had expected.
“If you knew I was with the Inquisition, you could’ve just reported me.”
“Honestly, what good would that do me?”
“You want money?”
“If you were some rich noble’s kid, maybe. But what I want from you is something different.”
“Different?”
“You’re the top student in our first year.”
“…Am I supposed to acknowledge that myself?”
“Aren’t you?”
“…It’s embarrassing.”
Bohn averted his gaze behind his glasses, his face turning slightly red. Ethan found it an unexpected side of him.
“Anyway, you saw how I barely passed Basic Magic Practice, right? If I stay like this, I won’t survive the second semester’s Fundamental Magic Practice.”
“…No way.”
Ethan spoke.
“Teach me magic.”
Bohn’s expression became complicated.
Ethan’s plan was simple.
<If I don’t have to kill Vine, the best option is to get him expelled. To do that, I need proof that he’s connected to the Inquisition. And to find that proof, I need to get close to someone involved—Bohn Palmaise.>
<That’s a good plan.>
Demi approved but also raised a question.
<But was it really necessary to ask him to teach you magic? Feels like you just wanted an excuse.>
<An excuse? What’s wrong with learning magic?>
<It’s not wrong… but wasn’t it already confirmed that you have no talent for magic? Even Lady Arca said so.>
It wasn’t just Arca. Count Charasen himself, the mages of the family, and even the family’s ‘guests’ had all, for various reasons, confirmed that Ethan had no aptitude for magic.
But unexpected things happen all the time.
<My contract with you succeeded, didn’t it?>
<You should already know that what this world calls black magic is…>
<Enough. I don’t want to hear it.>
Ethan was still too young to give up.
<And even if Bohn gets suspicious of my approach, he’ll just see me as someone trying to use a public issue for personal gain. From his perspective, that’s someone he can control.>
Ethan was right.
“Fine,” Bohn said.
“Really?”
Of course, there were parts Ethan hadn’t anticipated.
“But there’s a condition.”
“A condition?”
A new quest appeared before Ethan’s eyes.
[Quest Triggered!]
[Quest: Deepen Your Relationship with Bohn Palmaise (D)]
As Demi said, the appearance of a quest meant it was a worthwhile challenge.
Ethan responded,
“Alright. What’s the condition?”
Three days later, Ethan was fighting a sword-wielding automaton and deeply regretting accepting Bohn’s condition.
Automatons were weapons controlled by puppeteers. They were usually made of wood, but some were crafted from metal, stone, or even clay. Most had humanoid shapes, with arms and legs attached to a torso, though their appearances varied by puppeteer.
The one Ethan faced now wasn’t much different from a scarecrow chasing birds—except for the fact that it had legs and was swinging a sword.
‘Normal scarecrows don’t try to kill me, though.’
Ethan barely dodged the automaton’s blade. Its movements didn’t feel like proper swordsmanship, just wild slashes. But even that was enough to kill a person. It was still dangerous.
“I dulled the edge, so you probably won’t die even if you get hit,” said a voice.
“Probably?”
The speaker was Linav Promorus, a senior student and the president of the Combat Magic Society.
Linav had dark skin, shinier than that of Yurmuth people, and golden hair, a characteristic of the Patalain race. Due to ancient magical influences, some Patalain had white diamond-shaped patches on their faces—Linav had one on the upper part of his nose.
Linav continued,
“But boy, don’t forget—just not dying isn’t enough to get into the society.”
“Who are you calling a boy?”
Ethan barely avoided another swing and scowled. Linav laughed.
Bohn’s ‘condition’ had been Ethan’s admission into the Combat Magic Society.
Bohn claimed that he would be too busy over the break due to his involvement with the society and that their meeting space was large, well-stocked with resources, and ideal for teaching magic. He also noted that Ethan could learn from other senior members and peers.
Combat magic focused on spells used for self-defense, duels, and warfare, along with practical applications of magical combat techniques.
Though still a student organization, the society was watched closely by graduate mages with interests.
Ethan had readily agreed to Bohn’s condition.
He couldn’t assume that only Bohn and Vine were part of the Inquisition. Getting close to others connected to them was worthwhile.
But in hindsight, this had been a trap.
To join the society, Ethan had to defeat an automaton.
Linav smirked.
“Still, for someone who barely scraped through Basic Magic Practice, you’ve got guts to take on an automaton. …Or is it just ignorance?”
Despite its crude form, the automaton mimicked the movements of a trained soldier.
“If you ever get good at combat magic, this is the weakest opponent you’ll face in real battle. No one in this society loses to an automaton.”
“I never said I’d lose.”
“Determination is a good start. But it’s not enough for admission.”
Linav laughed.
“Bohn, you’ve brought an interesting one.”
Bonn answered,
“We’re not friends.”
Ethan had thought he could handle the automaton alone, but it wasn’t easy.
If it had been sluggish, he would have sneaked behind it and twisted its neck.
But just as Linav had said, it was quicker and smarter than he expected.
Ethan spoke to Demi.
<I think I have to use it.>
<Understood.>
Ethan tucked the dagger he was holding into his coat.
“What, are you giving up?”
“No.”
“Then you’re going to fight barehanded?”
“Yes.”
Ethan planned to use a ‘skill.’
00
Before facing the automaton, Ethan had entered Limbo that morning.
He had known since the first day that he could enter Limbo whenever he fell asleep, as his consciousness was treated as lost upon sleeping.
Upon entering the Limbo Ethan said,
“I don’t have to come every day, but today is different.”
Ethan checked the completed quest window.
[‘Quest: Survive for 3 Days (D)’—Success!]
[Reward: 12 EXP]
[Reward: D-Rank Lottery Ticket]
Digging into his pocket, he found the D-Rank ticket.
Demi asked,
<Would you like to draw a prize?>
“No.”
Ethan walked up to the merchant.
“Can you recommend something I need?”
<If I have it.>
“One more question. You said ‘items,’ but I can use the lottery to not only get ‘items,’ but also ‘archives’ and ‘skills,’ right?”
The merchant lifted his head and looked at Ethan.
<Of course.>
Ethan held out the D-Rank ticket.
“In that case, I’ll buy a skill.”
<What kind of skill do you want?>
00
The automaton stared at Ethan in confusion before tensing up and approaching.
<As expected. It’s reacting like a human.>
Demi said,
<But, Master, when I say it’s ‘like a human,’ I mean that automaton isn’t just a programmed robot. It reacts and behaves like a person.>
<A robot? You mean like a golem?>
<That interpretation is acceptable.>
<Golems have their own sluggishness. But being human-like also means it has weaknesses.>
Ethan took off his coat.
He prided himself on being quick, which had allowed him to dodge the automaton’s sword so far.
But just dodging wouldn’t bring it down.
<The automaton mimics a soldier’s movements, right?>
<Correct.>
<Then skills must work similarly.>
<I’m not knowledgeable about magic, but I assume so. Generally speaking, a D-Rank skill is based on the proficiency of someone who has practiced for about three years. So, you could say you are imitating the movements of someone with three years of experience.>
The automaton rushed forward, swinging its sword downward.
A simple downward strike—but it could easily transition into a lateral slash.
At that moment, Ethan flung his coat, which wrapped around the automaton’s sword.
The automaton didn’t panic. It pulled back the blade and retreated.
Linav watched with amusement, while Bohn observed quietly.
-Pop!
A firecracker, which Ethan had pulled from his pocket, exploded right in front of the automaton’s face.
Startled, the automaton staggered.
Its sword was tangled in the coat, and it was already retreating—on the verge of falling.
Ethan crouched low and grabbed its thigh.
Then, using his shoulder, he shoved the automaton down.
With a loud crash, the automaton toppled over.
<Takedown…>
The automaton tried to swing its sword again, but Ethan had already seized its wrist.
With its wrist locked, it had neither the strength nor the angle to swing the sword properly.
<From the ground…>
Ethan grasped the automaton’s arm, lifted both legs onto its chest, and curved his back.
<Armbar.>
A technique for hyperextending the elbow joint.
In Terra, this technique was used to apply pain and force an opponent to submit.
But here, in Damarat Yurmuth, things were different.
Ethan poured all his strength into breaking the automaton’s elbow.
-Crunch!
The skill Ethan had purchased from the merchant was—
<Skill: Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu (D)>.
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