Category: The Incompetent Mage’s Infinite Regression

A mage flew in and came to a halt in midair.

Where a head should have been, there was a flowerpot, and in the flowerpot, a miniature maple tree.

Perhaps because winter was approaching, all its leaves had fallen.

The bonsai-headed figure spoke.

<Vine, will you continue?>

“Hmph.”

Vine withdrew the mana gathered in his staff, and the crystals that had been floating above Bohn’s head fell to the ground.

Vine spoke.

“Dean Aincher, you don’t actually believe everything that fool says, do you?”

Aincher Durmus, the dean of Yurmus Magic Academy, replied.

<Whether I believe it or not doesn’t matter. The other professors have all witnessed it.>

“If I say I’m leaving for the Empire, will you stop me?”

<I am the dean, Vine. You must follow the school rules.>

“You’ll regret this.”

<We’ll see. …Now, return home. Bohn, head to your dormitory.>

The two followed Aincher’s instructions.

Ethan turned to Ribbelton.

“Is it really okay to just let them go like that?”

“Should we call the guards and have them dragged away in chains? We could, but Vine is a count and holds a seat in the Mage Council. He won’t go against the dean’s words without good reason.”

Aincher descended to the ground.

<Good work, Ribbelton.>

“Protecting a student hardly calls for praise. Haha.”

<And you, Ethan Dora Charasen.>

“Yes, Dean?”

Ethan looked at Aincher.

<You survived.>

“Ah, thank you.”

<Ethan had been taken aback when he heard that the merchant wasn’t selling swordsmanship skills.>

Ethan wanted a skill that, while not resembling magic, could still stand against the puppet automaton. However, according to Demi, swordsmanship in Terra seemed to be something only a selected few practiced, and obtaining it through the lottery was highly unlikely. Left with no choice, he opted for the “Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu” that the merchant recommended. And as it turned out, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu was a better choice than he had expected.

<If I can somehow force the fight into a hand-to-hand struggle, I can win.>

The “takedown” technique was similar to the wrestling techniques knights learned for war, but the “ground techniques” that followed were different. These techniques, which controlled and broke the opponent’s joints, were advantageous when both fighters were unarmed.

From what Ethan knew, once an opponent was taken down, people would typically try to stab them with a blade or at least find a rock to smash them with—grappling like intertwined snakes was rarely considered an option.

<The problem is how to bring them down.>

If he could make an armed opponent drop their weapon, he could level the playing field even without Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. But if that were easy, soldiers wielding swords wouldn’t be so fearsome on the battlefield. Ethan had no choice but to get creative.

<Well, I managed somehow.>

Ethan drew his dagger and stabbed the automaton in the ribs and neck as it struggled to push him away. With each stab, its movements slowed until it stopped entirely.

Ethan retrieved his dagger, dusted himself off, and stood up.

Linav clapped his hands in appreciation.

“Impressive, kid.”

“Thank you.”

“But I’m afraid joining the Combat Magic Society is going to be difficult.”

Ethan frowned at him.

“Excuse me?”

Linav, looking troubled, avoided meeting Ethan’s gaze.

“Well, it’s just… no student has ever joined after defeating an automaton with their bare hands. At least, not in the history of the Combat Magic Society as I know it. I don’t think there’s instance for it in any other magic society either.”

“Then why did you make me fight?”

“Because we can’t outright refuse an application. And besides, you’re Bohn’s friend, aren’t you? I had to help out my adorable junior.”

Bohn gave Linav a slightly irritated look.

“Don’t drag me into this. You should have explained things to me first.”

“Well, you see, there aren’t any strict regulations. But even if you join the Combat Magic Society, there won’t be much you can do here. Your alchemy was impressive, sure. But unless you have a famous alchemical lineage or a hand cannon, little tricks like that won’t cut it…”

“Fine. I prefer it this way.” Bohn retorted

“Hey, don’t you think that’s a bit shameless ?”

As Ethan muttered this and approached Bohn, a round of applause echoed from the second-floor railing of the Combat Magic Society’s workshop.

“Well done, Ethan.”

All three of them turned their gazes toward the source of the voice. Standing there was a large man with a gray beard—Professor Ribbelton Favier, who taught Practical Magic Basics.

Ethan looked flustered.

“Professor?”

With one hand, Ribbelton jumped over the railing and landed lightly from a three-meter drop without so much as a stumble.

Linav turned to Ethan.

“Professor Ribbelton is the faculty advisor for the Combat Magic Society. He specializes in combat magic.”

Ribbelton  pointed at the edge of Ethan’s coat, where a cut from the automaton’s blade remained.

“Where did you learn to fight with your coat?”

“…It’s not really something to brag about, but I used to roam the back alleys of Charasen when I was young. I’d carry a dueling sword in one hand and usually hold a coat, a shield, or a scabbard in the other. That’s how I picked it up.”

“Really? So you know how to use a dueling sword?”

“Yes. A little.”

Dueling swords, also called rapiers, were thinner and lighter than traditional longswords, making them easy to wield with one hand. They were ideal for thrusting attacks, which made them effective even in narrow alleyways.

“Your use of magic was impressive—very practical.”

“Ah, thank you.”

“But what I’m most curious about is your unarmed combat. Where did you learn it?”

Ethan gave a vague answer.

“From the thugs in Charasen.”

“Hmm. Gang fighting techniques? I’ve heard Charasen’s inner city is ruled by gangs.”

Gangs were organizations that made money through various illegal activities. Some took in orphans and street kids, training them in begging or pickpocketing—just like the thieves’ guilds in Yurmuth.

“Something like that.”

Ribbelton nodded at Ethan’s reply.

“Linav.”

“Yes, Professor?”

“Approve Ethan’s membership.”

“Ah, but… there’s no precedent for this. As you know, the main activities of the Combat Magic Society revolves around learning combat techniques, which require fundamental combat magic skills. Some students with alchemy backgrounds have joined, but only because their families had already trained them in combat techniques…”

“I will personally mentor Ethan. No need to worry.”

“Ah… I see. Understood.”

Linav nodded and fetched the membership application papers, handing them to Ethan.

As Ethan signed the form, he glanced at Ribbelton.

“But Professor, if what Linav says is true, wouldn’t my membership be a problem?”

“So what? Do you not want to join?”

“No, that’s not it. I just wondered if you had a reason for this.”

“I have my plans. I’ll tell you later.”

Ribbelton simply smiled warmly, offering no further explanation.

Meanwhile, beside them, Bohn watched Ethan with a somewhat displeased expression.

As Ethan finished signing, a realization dawned on him.

<Wait a minute, this…>

That evening, Ethan stood in the dormitory courtyard, facing Bohn.

“Why did you call me out?”

Bohn adjusted his glasses and spoke “I think I underestimated you.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“In some ways, yes. Though it’s also my mistake.”

“Then our conversation is over, isn’t it?”

As Ethan turned to leave, a sharp hum echoed. Three crystals floated above Bohn’s head. It seemed to be his magic. Ethan had seen Bohn attempt to use magic before, just before he almost killed him, but this was his first time witnessing it in action. Each crystal was an elongated dice shaped, unpolished and murky, resembling raw gemstones. However, their sharpened tips hinted at their intended use.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

“What you saw isn’t something trivial. My life is at stake. That means, Ethan, your life was at stake the moment you saw it too.”

“If I die, the information I saw will be passed on to someone else.”

“I’ve already confirmed that you don’t have any close associates. You don’t seem particularly close to your sister either. And most importantly, the evidence is no longer there. You don’t actually believe that just seeing it would be enough to make you a threat, do you?”

Ethan smirked.

“But a witness can be a liability, right?”

“There’s no guarantee you won’t go around talking. Even being a suspect is a hassle.”

Ethan pointed out, “Then there must be more evidence. Am I right? If someone starts digging, there’s no avoiding it.”

Bohn, expressionless, replied, “Think whatever you want.”

“And maybe more people are involved, too.”

“Are you done talking?”

Ethan shrugged. “I know you won’t kill me. There’s still something you want to hear from me. That’s why I’m still alive. So let me turn the question around—what do you want?”

From the shadows of the forest, a mage stepped forward, dressed in a white coat and holding a white staff at waist height.

“A sharp student indeed, Ethan Dora Charasen.”

Ethan responded in kind, calling out his name.

“Vine Wiz Decarun.”

“You should add ‘Professor’ to that. Hmph, Dora brats.” Vine clicked his tongue.

“It’s not Bohn who has business with you. It’s me.”

“Is that so?”

“And I’m not here to ask questions. I know how to get answers without them.”

Vine’s specialty was mental magic. He wasn’t bluffing. He stretched his hand toward Ethan.

“Come here, Ethan. If you don’t resist, it won’t hurt.”

Ethan asked, “Are you also part of the Inquisition?”

“What if I am?”

“Then why are you working as an agent for the Empire?”

“That’s not something you need to know.”

But then, Vine added with amusement, “Technically speaking, I’m not an inquisitor. The Inquisition, the Imperial Army, the Demon King’s Castle—it doesn’t matter. Even if I serve the Empire, I’m still just a hound of the Emperor. We simply have mutual interests for now and are cooperating. But not everyone can embrace the grand cause.”

As Ethan reached into his coat, one of Bohn’s floating crystals shot toward his feet.

—Thunk!

Bohn warned, “Don’t do anything foolish.”

Ethan had expected this when he joined the Combat Magic Society.

<I had a quest to deepen my relationship with Bohn.>

<But I failed that quest.>

<A quest isn’t only valuable when completed. Even failure gives you information.>

Ethan said, “Well, is this really foolish?”

He rolled to the side as he pulled something from his coat. The first crystal missed, but the second one flew straight for his head.

However, it never struck him.

—Clang!

A towering figure appeared out of nowhere, striking down the crystal with a sword.

Vine called out his name.

“…Ribbelton!”

Ribbelton raised his sword with both hands.

“That’s enough, Vine.”

“Ribbelton… How did you—? No, never mind.”

At the tip of Vine’s staff, a translucent blue blade extended, matching the length of the staff itself.

Ribbelton asked, “Are you going to fight?”

“I have no interest in combat magic, but a half-baked mage like you is no match for me. …Bohn, get ready.”

At his words, Bon withdrew his hand from Ethan. The crystals embedded in the ground lifted and floated back above his head.

“You don’t actually think you can block magic like this with just a longsword, do you?”

Ribbelton shook his head.

“Vine, do you really think I came alone? …Ethan.”

As Ethan pulled something from his coat, Vine and Bohn tensed.

But what Ethan revealed was nothing more than a firecracker—practically a parlor trick.

Bohn, having seen it before, and Vine, who had likely heard about it, simply watched as Ethan lit the fuse.

—Bang!

Vine scoffed. “As expected, just a petty trick.”

But Ribbelton disagreed. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Vine slowly shifted his gaze to the rooftops of the dormitory and academy buildings. Under the two moons, shadowy figures stood, their presence noticeable even in the darkness.

They were the professors of Yurmuth Magic Academy.

---

TL : I will use Yurmus instead of Yurmuth going forth. so don’t get confused

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)>.

“Did I return to Limbo?”

“Yes, User.”

“I can go back to the past again?”

“Of course.”

Ethan thought it was an astonishing magic, but he could somewhat accept it. The spells casted by the invaders of Damarat Yurmuth—such as the Dark God Yorr, the Tentacle God Musamusa, and the Exiled Dragon Loranquerio—on their contractors were always terrifying.

The empire had tried to downplay the invasions caused by Demi, but there were people from other countries who had witnessed the horrors first-hand. Records indicated that even during Demi’s invasions, their armies were formidable.

Two quests appeared in Ethan’s vision.

[Quest Generated!]
[Quest: Defeat Vine Wiz Decarun (C)]

[Quest Generated!]
[Quest: Survive for 3 Days (D)]

Ethan asked, “There are two quests?”

“Quests can appear in multiples depending on the conditions.”

“And what exactly does ‘defeat’ mean?”

“It includes killing, as well as forcing the target to leave—whether physically or from their social position. As long as they no longer enjoy their current status and no longer interfere with you, it counts as ‘defeated.’”

“What does ‘survive for 3 days’ mean?”

Demi remained silent for a moment, as if choosing its words carefully.

“Quests arise when they are sufficiently challenging for your situation, provide a reason to be completed, and have value as a challenge. The fact that ‘surviving for 3 days’ appeared suggests that staying alive itself has become a worthy challenge for you.”

“…I see. Thanks for the explanation.”

Demi held out a black box with a hole.
“First, would you like to draw a lot?”

“Shall I?”

Ethan was about to reach out but suddenly noticed something in his peripheral vision—something that hadn’t been there before.

“Wait, what’s that?”

Ethan pointed to something in the corner of Limbo. It was a figure in a red robe, wearing a golden mask with only eye holes. But beyond the mask and inside the robe, there was nothing.

It stared at Ethan.

<I am a merchant.>

“A merchant?”

Ethan looked at Demi. Demi nodded slightly, indicating it was okay to converse.

Ethan approached the merchant.
“If you’re a merchant, you sell things?”

<That is correct.>

“To buy something, I need money, right?”

<That is correct.>

“But I don’t have any money.”

The merchant pointed to the inner pocket of Ethan’s coat.

Ethan, feeling skeptical, searched the pocket. Inside, he found something.

It looked like a coin—blue, with white stripes around the edge, and incredibly light. There was something recognizable in the center: the letter “D.”

“This is…?”

<It is a coupon that allows you to draw a lot from the administrator. You can either use it for a D-rank draw or exchange it with me to purchase an item.>

“What kind of items can I buy?”

<With a D-rank coupon, you can only buy D-rank items.>

Ethan calculated in his head.
“Wouldn’t it always be better to buy instead of drawing? Rather than hoping for something useful, I could just buy what I need directly.”

<However, there are things that can only be obtained through drawing. I do not sell a wide variety of items—everything I offer can also be acquired through the draw.>

So, while there were times when purchasing from the merchant was the better choice, there would also be situations where drawing lots was preferable if the needed item wasn’t available.

Ethan said, “Alright. I’ll discuss it for a moment. That okay?”

<I do not mind.>

Ethan returned to Demi.
“Can I trust that merchant?”

“Yes. I control your Limbo, and I do not allow harmful entities to enter. That ‘merchant’ is permitted because it can be of assistance to you.”

Ethan nodded.
“Alright. Let’s talk about what happened after I went through that door behind you. I don’t think I can do things the same way as before.”

“Why do you think that?”

“If I go back as I am now, I’ll be in a better situation than before. First, I’ll kill Bohn.”

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll kill Professor Vine as well.”

“Yes.”

“No, wait. Changing the order would be better. I should assassinate Professor Vine first, then take care of Bohn. Killing them when they least expect it increases the chances of success.”

Ethan glanced at Demi’s expression and said.

“I don’t like killing people either.”

“I never said anything.”

Demi added, “Once you kill both, you should be able to find proof against the Inquisition.”

“Yeah. Bohn definitely has something. But there’s a problem.”

Ethan said, “To kill Vine, I must use a gun.”

“That would expose you as a dark mage.”

“That’s not good. The professors at Yurmuth Magic Academy might not kill me, but they would at least try to seal my dark magic. And if the empire has influence over the academy, then the empire will eventually discover my existence. That would make my future uncertain.”

“What do you plan to do, then?”

Ethan looked at the merchant.

“Let’s do this.”

---

Ethan opened the door and returned, heading to the Basic Magic Practice classroom.

When it was his turn, Professor Ribbelton spoke.
“Ethan, it’s your turn.”

“Yes.”

As Ethan stepped forward, he heard whispers.

“He’s attending class till the very end. Quite the courage. Is this the honour of a noble family?”

“Well, if it becomes clear he can’t use magic, wouldn’t that be disgraceful?”

Ignoring the ridicule, Ethan climbed onto the platform.

“Ethan, this is your final practice.”

“Yes.”

“I wonder if you’ve prepared enough.”

“I did as much as I could.”

“Begin when you’re ready.”

Ethan held something in both hands, which he had taken from his coat pocket. Then, he turned toward the students and pulled the attached strings.

-Pop!

Colorful confetti and shimmering paper fragments scattered into the air.

What Ethan had triggered was a party popper he had purchased from the merchant.

He had thought it was expensive at first, but it came in a set of 100.

Ethan had bought party poppers to pass the Basic Magic Practice class.

‘If I use a gun, Bohn will find out. This party popper is also a product from Terra, but according to Demi, Damarat Yurmuth has never seen or used such an item before.’

Though his performance seemed lackluster compared to the other students’ magic, the class burst into laughter.

Ethan subtly observed Professor Ribbelton.

Fortunately, Ribbelton did not laugh.

As the confetti and paper settled on the ground, Ribbelton asked,

“That’s it?”

“No, there’s more.”

As Ethan took out another identical party popper from his pocket, Ribbelton intervened.

“If it’s the same magic, there’s no need to continue.”

“Understood.”

Ribbelton checked the evaluation sheet with his quill and asked a few questions.

“It seems to be alchemy, correct?”

“Yes. As far as I know, alchemy falls under the broad category of magic, and renowned alchemist families are also treated as mage families—”

Ribbelton raised a hand to cut him off.

“Just answer the question.”

“Yes.”

“Can it be activated instantly?”

“Yes.”

“Can you increase the explosion size if necessary?”

“Yes.”

“You used visually striking materials. Why?”

“Because they effectively draw the enemy’s attention.”

“I see.”

Demi interjected.

<In ‘party poppers,’ the word ‘party’ refers to a joyful gathering to celebrate an occasion.>

<I’ve already heard that explanation. But this is a magic academy, not a school for parlor tricks. To gain extra points, the magic must have some guaranteed usefulness—one that aligns with what the academy traditionally recognizes. Combat magic is intuitive and easy to understand.>

<Understood. But it seems Professor Ribbelton is asking more questions than before.>

<I noticed. Be quiet.>

After a few more questions and answers, Ribbelton nodded.

“Ethan.”

“Yes.”

“You pass.”

“Thank you.”

Ethan sighed in relief. But that relief didn’t last long.

“Ethan!”

00

When he turned around, Arca was standing just as before—arms crossed, leaning against the stone railing of the second-floor corridor that connected the lecture hall and the dormitory.

“What brings you here, sister?”

“I heard you passed the Basic Magic Practical.”

“Yes.”

So far, the conversation mirrored their past exchange, but what followed was no praise.

“Passing the practical exam with such a cheap trick? I have no idea what you’re thinking. Aren’t you ashamed, not just before our family, but before Father as well? And alchemy? What do you think people will say when they hear that a house as renowned as ours is dabbling in alchemy?”

“…I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need to apologize to me. Where did you get that trick? Did you make it yourself?”

“You’re calling it magic, right? Fine. But even if you managed to pass the basic practical this way, what’s your plan for the real one?”

“…I don’t have one.”

“I thought as much. You may have found a way to get by this time, but improvisation will only take you so far. Go back and reflect on this. No matter how urgent it was, this isn’t right.”

With that, Arca turned and walked away.

Ethan spoke to Demi.

<This is why I didn’t want to do it.>

<Is the party popper really such an issue?>

<The Charasen family is one of the five oldest houses in the Mage Assembly. We’ve frequently held the chairman’s seat, and everyone in our family takes immense pride in magic. They don’t just have talented mages—they have geniuses. In fact, my sister is one of those rare ‘true’ geniuses, the kind even the most arrogant of mages acknowledge. So, of course, she’s angry that I passed with something so trivial.>

<I see.>

Just when Ethan thought Arca had left, she came running back toward him.

“Sister?”

“I forgot to say something.”

“What?”

“Congratulations.”

“…Thanks.”

Arca pointed a finger at the corner of Ethan’s lips.

“Don’t smirk.”

“I wasn’t smiling yet.”

“Not later, either. Now go to your room and reflect.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

After Arca left, Ethan stole a glance behind him before heading to his room.

As he expected, Bohn did not appear.

“So, Bohn didn’t recognize the party popper as dark magic.”

<That’s fortunate. Now we can proceed to the next step.>

Ethan nodded and made his way toward Bohn’s dormitory. When he knocked on the door, Bohn stepped out. His glasses were slightly oversized, and he wore an indifferent expression.

“Who is it… Ethan?”

“This is our first time speaking, isn’t it? Did you already know me?”

“It’s hard to avoid hearing about a notorious troublemaker.”

“Oh, really?”

Ethan stepped forward to enter the room, but Bohn blocked the doorway with his body.

“What do you want?”

“I just want to talk.”

“Then speak here.”

Ethan glanced around. He already knew no one was around, but he did it deliberately to make Bohn notice.

“I know you work for the Empire’s Inquisition Bureau.”

Ethan found it hard to comprehend being asked to draw lots in a situation like this. However, he couldn’t think of a reason to refuse either. Besides, Demi was his benefactor. There was no point in rejecting it now.

Ethan reached into the box and drew a lot.

[Archive Acquired!]
[Archive: Personal Hygiene (D)]

Ethan processed the new information that entered his mind. Hygiene is the practice of preventing disease and maintaining health. Personal hygiene involves individual efforts to maintain cleanliness, such as oral and hand hygiene, bathing, changing clothes, checking the state of food, and improving one’s environment.

Though not perfectly, Ethan also gained some understanding of other archives related to personal hygiene. These included public hygiene, healthcare, parasites, infectious diseases, illnesses, and soap.

The problem was that Ethan was already practicing personal hygiene as much as his environment allowed and fully understood its importance.

“What use is this archive to me?”

<Not only archives but also items and skills may hold no value to you.>

“Well, that’s not the issue here.” Ethan turned to Demi. “What happens to me now?”

Even without Demi’s confirmation, Ethan knew he had died, stabbed from behind. Yet, seeing that he still existed with consciousness, it wasn’t entirely over. At least, he hoped so.

<I do not have the power to bring the dead back to life.>

“I figured.”

<However, I can nullify death.>

“…How?”

Demi gestured to a door behind them.

<Go through the door behind me. Then you will return to a point before your death.>

“I’ll go back?”

<Yes. You will ‘regress.’>

“To when?”

<I cannot send you back to a time before our contract. The closest point is just after that.>

“How is that possible?”

<I cannot explain everything, User.>

Ethan decided to accept it. This was an entity from another world—there was no way he could comprehend everything.

<Go through the door. Limbo cannot be maintained endlessly.>

“Got it.”

Ethan walked past Demi and opened the small wooden door. Darkness awaited on the other side, making him hesitate. Glancing back, he saw that Demi wasn’t looking at him but instead staring at another door across from the small wooden one—a massive double door.

Demi remained still, as if expecting someone to arrive.

<User.>

Though curious, Ethan heeded Demi’s urging and stepped through the door.

---

Ethan stood in the center of the magic circle he had drawn to form a contract with an otherworldly entity, gripping a pistol in one hand.

<User analysis. Status abnormality detected. Current state: Continuity loss. Limbo transition data found. Decompressing… Decompression complete. Ethan Dora Charasen. Mage. Level 1. …It’s good to see you again, User.>

“You came back with me?”

<I retain the same data as before the regression. So yes, in a sense.>

A notification appeared before Ethan’s eyes.

[Quest Generated!]
[Quest: Why Did Ethan Dora Charasen Die? (D)]

Ethan muttered, “I’d need to figure that out even without a quest.”

<Do you have any guesses?>

Ethan looked down at the gun in his hand.

“Nothing else comes to mind.”

<You concealed it when you used it.>

“But it made a loud noise. Could someone recognize it just from the sound?”

<Yes. But only if they already knew about firearms.>

Ethan nodded.

“For example, even though Dark God Yorr’s magic isn’t commonly practiced anymore, people still know about it—like the face-flaying spell. Even if someone has never seen one of Yorr’s dark mages, they can deduce that such magic was used from the traces left behind.

Likewise, Demi, if your followers used guns during your invasion of the Empire twenty years ago, someone in this world must know about firearms.”

<…I take issue with the term ‘invasion,’ but if we’re only discussing the use of firearms, then yes. Some individuals in this world, Damarat Yurmuth, are aware of their existence.>

Ethan nodded.

“Then it stands to reason that I was targeted because I used a gun. Right?”

<That is a valid deduction. But how do you intend to find the culprit, User? Do you have their face, distinguishing features, or any clues?>

Ethan answered, “No.”

<Then how will you find them?>

“That’s simple.”

Ethan smirked.

“I’ll take the basic magic practice test again.”

---

After using his pistol in the basic magic practice test, Ethan once again met with Arca. By recalling his previous experience and responding the same way, their conversation played out identically.

“A secret, huh? Got it.”

Arca left just as before.

Ethan watched her retreating figure, then turned toward his dorm.

Focusing, he detected a presence behind him. Though the steps were carefully muffled, someone was definitely approaching.

“Etha—”

At the sound of his name, Ethan whirled around and drew the dagger from his coat.

The attacker, the same one who had killed him before, flinched and took a step back in surprise. However, they quickly steeled themselves and charged at him.

Ethan didn’t hesitate.

His blade plunged into the attacker’s abdomen.

“Guh—!”

The attacker staggered. Ethan followed up with a kick, sending them collapsing to the floor.

Kicking away the dagger they had dropped, Ethan pulled back their hood—revealing a skinny male student wearing glasses.

“Damn it… Bohn Palmaise?”

<Who is that?>

Ethan answered Demi.

<A classmate known as an honor student. A bookworm.>

<A friend?>

<Not a chance. I don’t have friends.>

Ethan turned to Bohn.

“Bohn, why did you attack me?”

“…What?”

Bohn mumbled something under his breath. Ethan leaned in to hear more clearly, but he wasn’t completely off guard.

Then, in the corner of his vision, he noticed something—shards of a sharply fractured crystal.

<…Magic!>

Realizing the danger, Ethan pulled the dagger from Bohn’s abdomen. The crystal clattered to the ground.

Ethan didn’t stop there.

Gripping the dagger in both hands, he drove it straight into Bohn’s chest.

Bohn’s hands gripped down on Ethan’s arms, trembling violently—before all strength faded from his grasp.

For a moment, Ethan simply stood there, staring at Bohn, then at the sky through the corridor, listening to the distant laughter of students.

“…What should I do now?”

<User, you have killed.>

“No, that’s not what I’m trying to say. Is there no other way?”

<At present, there is nothing else I can do.>

Ethan first moved Bohn’s corpse to his dorm room.

“It was purely an act of self-defence.”

<I agree. However, there is no guarantee that a third party would see it that way.>

“We need to find out Bohn’s true identity. There must be a reason he suddenly attacked a fellow student.”

Ethan searched through Bohn’s pockets and found the key to his dorm room. Then, he made his way there.

<At a glance, nothing seems suspicious.>

“All criminals look ordinary.”

Compared to Ethan’s room, Bohn’s had more books, but there wasn’t much of a difference otherwise. Ethan opened the storage box, rummaged through his belongings, and checked under the mattress. If Bohn had never attacked him, Ethan might have stopped his search around this point.

But Ethan had already been killed by Bohn once before.

Bohn wasn’t just a suspect—he was an undeniable criminal.

“The answer must be in the books.”

Ethan flipped through Bohn’s books, scanning through them. Around the middle of his search, he came across a book that felt strangely heavy. When he opened it, he discovered that the pages had been torn out, leaving a hidden compartment inside. A small wooden box rested within.

Ethan opened the wooden box. Inside, he found a single ornament and several documents.

“As expected.”

<What is that?>

“This decorative pin… The emblem of a two-headed hound represents the Imperial Inquisition. And these documents… Even with a quick glance, they’re appointment papers. It looks like Bohn was an agent working under the orders of an Inquisitor.”

As Ethan reached that conclusion, a quest completion window appeared.

[‘Quest: Why Did Ethan Dora Charasen Die? (D)’ Completed!]
[Reward: 12 EXP]
[Reward: D-rank Lottery Coupon]

Demi asked a question.
<Yurmuth is an independent territory separated from the Empire. Can the Imperial Inquisition, which operates as a religious entity, even conduct activities in Yurmuth?>

“Of course not. It’s illegal. But the Empire still secretly dispatches Inquisitors to foreign lands to hunt down dark mages. However, because the Empire is so powerful, even if they cause trouble, they’re sent back without severe consequences.”

Demi asked another question.
<But isn’t dark magic illegal in other countries as well? For example, in Yurmuth?>

“Of course, dark magic itself is forbidden by the Mage Council. It’s a prohibited form of magic. The severity of punishment varies by country, though. If discovered, the penalty isn’t always extreme. In minor cases, offenders might get fined and exiled. Some are imprisoned or placed under house arrest, but if they swear off dark magic, they might be released. That’s why there are mages secretly practicing in it.”

Ethan tucked Bohn’s wooden box into his coat.

“In any case, I’ve identified Bohn’s true identity. Even if his body is discovered, as long as I have this, the Yurmuth Council won’t hold me accountable.”

Ethan took one last look around the room and was about to leave—until someone blocked his way.

“My, what a mess this room has become, Ethan Dora Charasen. What a shame to leave a friend’s room in such a state.”

Ethan looked at the platinum-haired, slender man who had appeared before him.

“…Professor Vine Wiz Decarun?”

Demi asked.
<Who is that?>

<A professor. First-year students don’t have many classes with him, but I know him from a general education course.>

<What is Vine’s area of expertise?>

<Mental magic.>

Vine entered the room, leaning on a straight, white staff, forcing Ethan to take a few steps back.

“So, what exactly happened here, Ethan?”

“I— I can explain everything. Bohn attacked me. It wasn’t a joke—he came at me from behind with a dagger. We fought, and somehow, I managed to survive. But in the process, Bohn was killed. I knew I’d be punished for murder if I left things as they were, so I searched his room to figure out why he attacked me.”

“Oh? And what did you find?”

Ethan took out Bohn’s wooden box.

“This is the proof.”

“I see.”

Vine snatched the wooden box from Ethan’s hands.

“The Imperial Inquisition, huh?”

“Yes.”

“That must mean you’re a dark mage.”

“…What?”

Ethan had already been wary of Vine’s behaviour. So when Vine swung his staff, Ethan reacted quickly.

But Vine hadn’t merely swung his staff.

A translucent blue blade formed at the staff’s tip, slicing through Ethan’s left ankle.

Blood splattered across the room.

“Ahhh—!”

Ethan screamed and collapsed onto the floor.

Vine spoke.

“Bohn was a skilled student. He always measured his opponents and executed his actions neither excessively nor insufficiently. And yet, he got himself killed in a counterattack… Well, I suppose you’re still just a student. Understandable. But ‘we’ in the Inquisition won’t see it that way.”

“…‘We’?”

“Yes. I am the Imperial Inquisitor stationed in Yurmuth.”

“…Damn it.”

“I’ll have to send you to the Empire. Or maybe… I should interrogate you myself first. Let’s find out what you’re hiding.”

Ethan grasped the gun inside his coat.

He could draw and fire it, but he’d likely get only one shot. Judging by Vine’s skill, even landing that single shot wasn’t guaranteed.

Ethan spoke to Demi.

<What should I do?>

<Do you trust me, User?>

<At this point, why wouldn’t I?>

<Then do exactly as I say.>

After hearing Demi’s suggestion, Ethan frowned.

<You must be joking.>

<I am not.>

Ethan realized he had no real choices left. If he attacked and failed, he’d be dragged to the Empire’s Inquisition.

<Alright. I’ll trust you.>

Ethan pulled the gun from his coat.

Vine, seeing the firearm, lowered his stance and raised his staff.

“A Terra weapon, as expected?”

He seemed prepared to dodge the bullet.

But Ethan’s gun wasn’t aimed at Vine.

Ethan placed the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

---

Once again, Ethan opened his eyes in Limbo.

Demi stood before him, arms crossed, looking down at him.

<I never said you only had one chance.>

Ethan saw text appear before his eyes.

[Item Acquired!]
[Item: Handgun (C)]

But just seeing the message wasn’t enough to understand its meaning.

“Glock 45? A handgun?”

Another set of text appeared.

[Archive Acquired!]
[Archive: Handgun (D)]

[Skill Acquired!]
[Skill: Marksmanship (D)]

Even before Ethan could ask what an archive, skill, or download was, he already had a rough idea.

‘A handgun is a weapon from Terra. Like an alchemically crafted cannon, it fires metal using gunpowder. But it’s small enough to be held in one hand, making it highly portable… I’ve never learned this knowledge before.’

Ethan glanced down at the handgun in his grip, then instinctively removed and reassembled the slide at a nearby table. He then pulled the slide back to chamber a round and aligned the sights in the proper stance.

‘I’ve never trained in this technique either…’

Demi spoke.

<An archive grants knowledge of another world, while a skill provides its techniques. By downloading these, you gain the knowledge and abilities of that world.>

When Ethan pulled the slide again, the chambered bullet was ejected. He caught it effortlessly.

“So, is this the dark magic of another world?”

“I see. So that’s what magic is called in your world.”

<No, that’s not quite…>

Ethan reflected on his new archive and skill.

“I understand that this magic can kill people. I can’t quite grasp it yet, but it seems remarkable. However, just this alone isn’t enough to make me a great mage.”

<You can gain greater power through ‘leveling up.’>

“Leveling up?”

Demi explained.

<To level up, you must gather ‘experience points.’ Experience is earned by completing ‘quests,’ defeating powerful foes, overcoming difficult challenges, or experiencing extraordinary events.>

“And quests?”

<They are missions assigned based on your current situation and goals. Now that the explanation is complete, your first quest is available.>

Once again, text appeared before Ethan’s eyes.

[Quest Initiated!]
[Quest: Pass Basic Magic Practice (D)]

Ethan read the message, looked down at the object in his hand, then glanced back at the text.

“That should be simple.”

<Shall we finalize the contract?>

Ethan responded.

“I’ll do it.”

---

“You stayed until the last class. How admirable. Is it the honour of a noble house?”

“Well, if it’s confirmed that I can’t use magic, it’d be more of a disgrace, wouldn’t it?”

A few hours later, Ethan ignored the chuckles around him as he walked down toward the lecture platform. He had always thought that having Professor Ribbelton’s Basic Magic Practice class in a tiered lecture hall was excessive. For someone unable to use magic, it was a humiliating setup.

Professor Ribbelton addressed him from the front.

“Ethan, this is your final practice.”

“Yes.”

“It’s prepared as requested. Does it seem acceptable?”

“Yes.”

Ethan had asked Ribbelton to set up a thin curtain, blocking the students’ view and only casting his shadow onto them with a backlight. It was common practice to obscure direct observation of magic, especially for non-basic spells or family magic, to protect its secrets. Though a reasonable request, some students still sneered at him.

Ethan paid them no mind.

‘So this isn’t a place of humiliation, after all.’

From the platform, he surveyed the students. For those proficient in magic, this tiered hall was actually a stage to showcase their spells. Typically, students would conjure a ball of light or project a palm-sized illusion—a chance to demonstrate even minor successes and be recognized for them.

“When you’re ready, begin.”

Ethan stepped behind the curtain, facing the armor-clad training dummy—his target for this session.

He drew the loaded Glock 45, aimed at the dummy, and pulled the trigger.

—Bang!

Even a mere 9mm bullet, propelled by explosive energy, produced a deafening roar capable of damaging one’s eardrums. Indoors, the sound echoed, amplifying its intensity. While Ethan and Ribbelton had expected the noise, the other students froze in shock at the sudden gunshot.

Ribbelton spoke.

“Is that all?”

“Yes.”

Before the professor removed the curtain, Ethan swiftly concealed the handgun.

Ribylton approached the fallen dummy.

“Impressive.”

Crouching down, he examined the dummy’s armor and began removing it.

“The sound alone is enough for me to pass you, but this will serve as a lesson for the others.”

He lifted the metal chest plate and held it up to a candle’s flame. Light seeped through a clean hole.

“A complete penetration. A remarkable combat spell, Ethan.”

“Thank you.”

“I can guess its classification… but this level of power is unprecedented. Is it an original spell?”

Original spells were self-created, not taught by others. Since Ethan intended to conceal the fact that it was black magic, he had to claim it as his own. Fortunately, Ribbelton seemed to mistake it for a form of alchemy rather than dark magic. In truth, its mechanisms did bear similarities to alchemical techniques.

“Yes, it is.”

“Excellent. I can’t discern its inner workings, but if it’s strong enough to bring down a knight, it certainly has practical use in battle. Though I wouldn’t recommend that path for you… Regardless, I assumed you were struggling this semester, but it seems you’ve been working hard behind the scenes. Well done.”

Ribbelton patted Ethan’s shoulder.

As far as Ethan could recall, no student had ever received such praise in this class.

“Thank you, Professor. So, my test result is…?”

“Why even ask? Of course, you pass.”

As Ethan returned to his seat, another message appeared before his eyes.

[‘Quest: Pass Basic Magic Practice (D)’ Completed!]
[Reward: 12 Experience Points]
[Reward: D-Rank Lottery Coupon]

After sitting down, Ethan asked Demi.

“A D-Rank Lottery Coupon?”

“You can obtain an item, archive, or skill of D-Rank. D-Rank is the lowest tier.”

Ethan recalled that the archive for the pistol was D-Rank. Certainly, the pistol itself and its usage were valuable, but simply knowing what a pistol was didn’t seem particularly useful.

“Can I draw now?”

“No. You must be in an unconscious state to perform the lottery. In other words…”

“I have to sleep?”

Demi was about to provide further explanation when Professor Ribbelton announced the end of class. Ethan decided to wait until he returned to his room to continue the conversation.

“Ethan.”

After completing the Basic Magic Practice, Ethan heard someone calling his name and turned around. It was his sister, Arca. She stood with her arms crossed, leaning against the stone railing of the second-floor corridor that connected the lecture hall to the dormitory, gazing at Ethan.

“What brings you here, sister?”

“I heard you passed the Basic Magic Practice class.”

“Yes.”

“For most students at a magic academy, me saying this would be unnecessary. Passing Basic Magic Practice is expected for some. But I know you, and I believe you won’t misunderstand what I’m about to say.”

“Please go ahead.”

“…Congratulations.”

Ethan smiled.

“Thank you, sister. It seems I won’t be able to accept the offer you previously made.”

“That can’t be helped.”

Arca averted her gaze for a moment before looking back at Ethan.

“But I’d like to know how you managed to use magic.”

Ethan had anticipated this question in some form. If it were anyone else, they might not have noticed, but Arca was well aware of Ethan’s limitations.

Ethan replied nonchalantly.

“Through repeated research and practice.”

“I’m sorry to say this, but your lack of talent isn’t something that can be overcome with effort. As Father once said, people as magically incompetent as you are incredibly rare. You’re a magic fool.”

Demi spoke.
“Are you not on good terms with Arca?”

“For siblings, I’d say we’re fairly normal.”

“Understood.”

Ethan told Arca,
“Regardless of what you believe, the important thing is that I used magic.”

Arca raised an eyebrow.
“So, it’s a secret? I see.”

Without pressing further, Arca left.

Ethan regretted it somewhat, but he couldn’t reveal the truth about using dark magic. He believed that Arca might understand him, and even keep his secret, but knowing about the existence of a dark mage and not reporting it was a crime. Telling her would put not only himself but also Arca in danger.

Demi asked, “Will it be alright?”

“She might cause trouble, but it should be fine for now.”

Just as Ethan was about to return to his room, he heard someone calling him from close behind.

“Ethan.”

The unfamiliar voice made Ethan try to turn around, but he couldn’t.

— Thud.

A horrifying sensation crawled up his spine from his side. He tried to scream, but only blood-tinged foam bubbled from his mouth.

Ethan felt his strength leave him, his body collapsing involuntarily. His eyes widened as he struggled to see who had stabbed him. But his vision darkened at the edges, growing blurry.

He barely registered that the attacker was wearing a school uniform, but in his fading consciousness, it was meaningless.

---

Ethan had died.

---

Ethan opened his eyes in darkness.

The walls around him were made of black bricks, giving off a vaguely familiar feeling, but this was an unfamiliar place. He soon realized he wasn’t alone in this space.

“You are…?”

“You have called me the Machine God, Demi. However…”

The figure before him was clad in sleek metal armor, but through the gaps in its joints, complex gears spun, pistons moved up and down, and wires strained as they pulled its limbs into place. Inside its translucent helmet, a single red light glowed vividly.

“In Terra, I was known as Deus Ex Machina, or in other words, the ‘God of Mechanical Devices.’”

Ethan scrutinized Demi carefully.
“A doll… is that what you are?”

“I understand there are also magically-operated machines in this world. You may think of me as something similar.”

Ethan looked around.
“And where is this?”

“This is Limbo, the boundary between life and death.”

Ethan flinched at the word “death.”
“Wait… then that means I’m dead?”

“Yes. Thanks to that…”

Demi extended a black box toward him.

“You can now draw the lottery.”

 

“This is your last chance, Ethan.”

At Professor Ribbelton’s words, Ethan nodded in acknowledgment and returned to his seat.

Failing to cast a spell in the Basic Magic Practice class meant failing the course. Everyone knew that.

Any student admitted to Yurmuth Magic Academy would have already learned the necessary spells from their family’s mages or private tutors. Ethan was the only one in the class who had yet to use magic.

As he walked back to the dormitory after class, other students whispered behind his back.

“I heard he failed again.”

“Does that mean he’s going to flunk out?”

“Looks like it.”

First-year students who failed their first semester were expelled. Ethan knew this, too.

Ignoring the murmurs, he walked through the mocking students. Fortunately, enduring humiliation was nothing new to him.

Ethan Dora Charasen.

His second name, “Dora,” was given to children born from concubines rather than legal wives. While he was considered part of the family, he was not recognized as nobility. For Ethan, enduring scorn was his fate.

He turned his head toward a familiar shadow.

“You failed again, Ethan.”

A beautiful girl stood before him. Her fiery red hair led up to a pair of vivid crimson eyes, burning like embers. A smirk played on her lips, though it was unclear whether she was holding back laughter or forcing a smile.

It was Arca Wiz Charasen, his elder half-sister.

“Wiz” was the name given to those born of the legal wife and a title reserved for heirs to the family.

“What brings you here, sister?”

“I wanted to remind you that my offer still stands.”

As Ethan suppressed a sigh, Arca continued.

“You should never have enrolled in Yurmuth Magic Academy in the first place. It was a mistake. If you drop out now and serve as my attendant, I’ll take good care of you. What do you say?”

“I must decline.”

“Even if, by some miracle, you pass Basic Magic Practice, what about tuition? Father only covered your admission fee. With what little funds you had, you can only afford a single semester.”

“You need not worry about that.”

Ethan’s swift responses made Arca pout slightly.

“Think about it. I’d rather have an attendant who understands his place than a fool expelled from school. If you’re truly a Charasen, you should know how to strike a worthwhile deal. Don’t you agree?”

Back in his room, Ethan reflected on their conversation.

Nothing Arca said was wrong.

A noble family’s illegitimate child typically had limited paths—joining a religious order, learning a trade under a craftsman, or becoming a political tool in family alliances. Becoming a relative’s attendant was also a common fate.

But for those born into mage families, there was another option—becoming a mage.

In many nations, including Yurmuth and Charasen, mages were considered akin to knights, granting them a half-noble status. Unlike lords who ruled over land, mages were valuable assets sought after by various institutions. Their worth was determined by skill and magical discipline rather than bloodline.

A talented mage was always in demand.

Many illegitimate children of mage families pursued magic, proving their abilities in academies and devoting themselves to magical research to earn the title of mage.

‘The problem is… I have no talent.’

Magic required three essential qualities.

‘First, mana sensitivity.’

Mana was the fundamental energy of magic, present in the air and even within one’s body. A mage had to be able to perceive it. However, Ethan was so dull to mana that he couldn’t even sense his own.

‘Second, mana control.’

Even if one could perceive mana, it couldn’t be used as magic right away. Through breathing techniques, mages needed to draw in mana, refine it, and convert it into magical energy. This process was essential, yet Ethan’s mana flow was completely blocked.

‘Third, spell construction.’

To cast magic, one had to understand complex rituals, mystical principles, and secret techniques. But beyond mere knowledge, a mage needed imagination to visualize and shape their magic. No matter how much mana one possessed, it was useless without the ability to construct spells.

Ethan lacked all three.

His family had known this for a long time, and Yurmuth Magic Academy had only confirmed it again.

But Ethan refused to give up.

In the ten-thousand-year history of Damarrat Yumaha, he wasn’t the only one without talent. Others had sought ways to overcome this, and some had even found meaningful answers.

If he couldn’t wield magic himself, he would borrow power from another source.

Dark Magic.

Entities from beyond this world had long sought to interfere with Damarat Yurmuth. While they couldn’t directly break its causal laws, certain individuals within the world could reach out, communicate with them, and even form contracts.

In this regard, Ethan was fortunate.

The Charasen family was renowned for contract magic, and thanks to his lineage, he had the opportunity to secretly research and study spells that allowed communication with otherworldly beings.

‘There’s just one small issue.’

Dark magic was forbidden.

It corrupted those who practiced it.

The entities that lent their power only did so to extend their influence and ultimately seize control of this world. Throughout history, many dark mages had become threats to the world itself.

At the “Oath of the Empty Throne,” a council attended by all the kings of Damarat, dark mages had been officially declared enemies of the world.

‘But if a failing magic student can become a world-threatening mage… isn’t that actually impressive?’

For the entire semester, Ethan had scoured for the materials and tools necessary for contract magic.

When he lacked money, he ran errands for thugs in the back alleys, even collecting debts for loan sharks.

Fortunately, his efforts paid off, and he managed to complete his preparations just before the final Basic Magic Practice exam.

‘Now, the only question is… what catalyst should I use for the summoning?’

In this type of contract magic, the catalyst determined the summoned entity. It could be a relic left behind by a summoned being, an idol once worshipped, or even the bloodline of a dark mage.

Naturally, such catalysts were tightly controlled due to their connection to forbidden magic. If an ordinary magic student like Ethan were caught with one, he wouldn’t just have it confiscated—he’d be severely punished.

‘That is… if I get caught.’

In Ethan’s hand was the very medium he had acquired.

At a glance, it looked like a gray stone fragment, but embedded within it was a thin, rod-like piece of metal in a bizarre fashion. Ethan had never seen a design like this before.

To obtain this object, he had to spend nearly all of his remaining money. He had it assessed once, confirming that it could indeed serve as a medium for dark magic.

‘But I have no idea what I’ll be contracting with.’

To find that out, he would need a second evaluation from a high-ranking mage—something he couldn’t afford. But Ethan didn’t particularly care. As long as he could form a contract with an otherworldly entity, it didn’t matter what kind of being it was.

Locking his door, he began preparing the ritual in his room, contemplating what kind of entities he might summon.

‘Could it be the Dark God, Yorr?’

Yorr was the most infamous invader associated with dark magic and black mages. A foreign god of conspiracy, betrayal, and deception, he was better known by the alias “Dark God.” In some regions, black magic was nearly synonymous with Yorr’s name.

‘Or maybe the Tentacle God, Musamusa?’

Two thousand years ago, Musamusa nearly drove the world to its end. Though it had not been summoned since, that single event had been enough to make it one of the most feared outer gods.

‘Perhaps the Exiled Dragon, Loranquerio?’

Loranquerio was an ancient dragon from over five thousand years ago, once native to Damarat-Yurmuth. In pursuit of power, it had turned tyrannical, prompting kings, mages, and adventurers to unite and banish it from the world. However, beyond the distant seas, some tribes still worshipped it and sought to summon it back.

By the morning of the exam, Ethan had finally completed his preparations.

Placing the medium at the center of a magic circle drawn in chalk, he began chanting in the ancient tongue. The spell’s words, which changed with the movements of the stars and the tremors of the earth, had to be uttered with perfect rhythm and tone.

Fortunately, Ethan had a knack for such things.

A bright white light surged from the magic circle.

‘It worked.’

Ethan was both elated and disappointed.

If he could merely demonstrate his ability to successfully perform this contract magic, he might be acknowledged as a mage. But in doing so, he would inevitably be labelled a Dark mage and dragged into an underground prison.

In the end, to be recognized, he needed power—power so overwhelming that no one could dismiss him.

<World analysis. E2912. Damarat-Yurmuth.>

A monotonous, cold voice resounded in his head.

<User analysis. Ethan Dora Charasen. Mage. Level 1.>

This was an entity Ethan had not anticipated at all. But the fact that it knew his name even before introducing itself proved it was no ordinary being.

“Who are you?”

<Pleased to meet you, Ethan. I am from Terra, and I was once called Demi in this world.>

“Demi of Terra?”

<Yes.>

At least it wasn’t an unknown invader.

Ethan recognized the name.

Just twenty years ago, a dimensional gate had opened in the northern reaches of the Empire, unleashing armoured mechanical constructs. The Empire suffered devastating losses before barely managing to close the gate. That gate had connected to a world called Terra, and the machines were known to have been controlled by an entity called Demi.

“…Are you the Machine God, Demi?”

<Yes.>

Demi spoke again.

<Would you like to form a contract with me?>

Ethan, who had never imagined setting foot in Imperial lands, nodded.

“What’s the price?”

<There is none.>

“That’s impossible. What do you want from me?”

<Survival.>

The offer seemed too good to be true.

Ethan had been prepared to sacrifice an eye or an arm if necessary.

‘Besides, the greater the price, the greater the power.’

He hesitated before asking his next question.

“If I survive, what will you give me?”

Demi answered.

<Power.>

“Be specific.”

<Overwhelming power.>

From within the magic circle, something was ejected.

Ethan swiftly caught it in his hand.

It was a bent metal rod, small enough to grip with one hand.

<“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” That was said by Arthur Clarke.>

Ethan stared at the object in his grasp.

“What is this?”

Demi replied.

<A Glock 45. A handgun.>