Limits of Training (2)
Only after purifying Merchede with pure mana did Magritte open the storage room door.
"Come out."
From the unpurified body, Rian appeared, one eye closed.
What they had said to each other was unknown.
Only from the grand duke's look could one tell at a glance: someone had died.
When Rian stepped out of the storage room, Magritte bustled about collecting experimental instruments.
It should have been Merchede's job.
"There isn't much time. I had intended to study you more deeply, but we'll begin the modification immediately."
Rete would return.
"Why go this far?" Rian asked.
"...What do you mean?"
"The succubus is dead, and Rete has left. She must have been someone important to you."
"Isn't that precisely why I'm doing this? When the boss returns, things won't be as they are now. Consider this the final warning. The last courtesy we'll show you."
"That's what I'm getting at." Rian felt uneasy.
"If Rete were someone like Satan, she wouldn't go back over something like this. She's sincere in how she treats people. If you know that, why help us?"
"Hmm."
Magritte paused.
"Lady Rete is a good person. Cold and just, but warm-hearted. That kind of nature doesn't belong in Hell. But don't forget—Rete is not one of the demon race."
He turned his gaze cold.
"She's an administrator of this world. Fundamentally different from us, even different from Satan."
"That doesn't mean her feelings change."
"Feelings?"
Magritte snorted.
"Then tell me. To be honest, I don't know. When Merchede died, Lady Rete stepped back even though Hell's fate was in jeopardy. Was that a feeling? Or… a terrible truth."
"Could it be programmed that way?"
"According to the boss, you sent Monoras, the head of the secretariat, to consult about your anomaly. But he didn't come—Yahweh arrived first. Do you think that was luck? I don't. Monoras is an administrator too."
"What are you saying…"
"How could a human who lives only a few decades grasp such vast providence? But your master must harbor some suspicion—enough mental capacity for that. What I'm getting at is this: how much of what you see is real, and how much is illusion."
Magritte checked Rian's scan data.
"Your power is based on this world's user—the Master Identity Code. The chain of Gehenna broke because that authority transcended the system and caused an error. So are you a being from the outside world?"
Rian didn't answer.
"We can't know. That's as far as it goes. Even if an outside world exists, unless its information directly connects to ours, we don't know who we are. Maybe you're a program too."
"I decide and act of my own will."
"I know. But what if even that is a program? See the problem? We can't reach a conclusion like this. Administrators are the only ones who know who they truly are. You can define them however you like, but remember this."
The Gehenna chain pulled from Rian's chest was held in the grand duke's hand.
"It may be different from what we imagine. That's what the wall at 0.5-dimension is. If you truly want to protect Yahweh, trust no one."
While Rian kept silent, Magritte inspected the broken link in the chain.
"Begin."
Stang National School of Magic.
Shirone had kept his promise to allow parents to observe, on the condition the Wizards were training.
In hindsight, it might have been better not to have made that promise.
"My gods…"
Under the eyes of every teacher and student, the Wizard was being pounded by Shirone.
"Your reactions are slow!"
The child, only seven years old, was repeatedly driven back by magic powerful enough to scorch the area.
Pale-faced parents screamed.
"Wizard!"
When the photon cannon detonated, a thunderous blast sent debris scattering across the training ground.
"Whooo!"
Through the rising dust, the Wizard could be seen exhaling and maintaining a defensive spell.
The teachers thought it madness.
"Headmaster! This has to stop! If this keeps up the child will die!"
"Hmm."
The headmaster's expression was troubled, but no one dared interfere with one of the Ivory Tower's Five Greats.
What worried them more was that the one-star resident and the Council of Ten Mages across from them showed no change in expression.
'Can we really just let this continue? If they're seeing something we aren't—'
An explosion tore out, and this time the Wizard was blasted dozens of meters away.
"Ugh!"
Despite gale-force winds, she landed balanced and steady; Bartok, leader of the Council of Ten Mages, watched in awe.
'She blocked that too.'
The more he watched, the more astounding her talent became.
'The Five Greats' combat level is currently very high. Even the Council of Ten couldn't face one alone. Yet that child—'
Shirone shouted.
"Don't let your guard down!"
As the Wizard hurriedly turned, Shirone, already close, fired another photon cannon.
There was a boom as the flash pierced the Wizard's powerful barrier.
"Ugh!"
She hunched her shoulders and leapt.
'She curled her body.'
A reflexive posture to minimize impact when the defense has been broken.
Amy admired it inwardly.
'She can't come out of this unscathed. But that subtle difference saved the Wizard's life.'
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The Wizard bounced off the ground like a rubber ball and collapsed. Shirone surged forward again.
"Two more—"
This time even the Council of Ten opened their eyes wide.
Seeing their realization, the headmaster hurried forward and shouted at Shirone.
"Th—this has to stop!"
Shirone did not relent.
During the brief moments he closed the distance, a thousand thoughts flashed through his mind.
'Is this really okay?'
He knew she couldn't reliably withstand his attack in this state.
'This time she could actually die.' Precisely because of that, he had to push.
'Havitz…'
The demon the Wizard would need to defeat likely wouldn't stop at this level.
"Wizard! Snap out of it!"
As he shouted, Shirone swung the compressed photon cannon in his hands.
'It's over.'
Everyone thought so—but the Wizard's eyes suddenly lit up and a shield formed.
KRAAAASH!
The air's membrane visibly rippled as the Wizard flew through the sky and slammed into the ground.
"Wi—Wizard?"
After a long stillness, the Wizard staggered up, her right arm hanging broken.
"Hah. Hah."
She murmured.
"I blocked it. I blocked it."
Shirone took another step.
'I broke a limit. Once more, just once more—'
At that moment a mother tore herself free from the teachers and ran forward.
"You wicked bastard!"
As Shirone turned, the woman grabbed him by the collar.
"What did you do to my daughter! Her arm is broken! She's only seven!"
"You promised I would be in charge. If you were uncomfortable watching, you didn't have to come."
Killing intent flashed in the mother's eyes.
"You made that promise so you wouldn't come back after showing her that? You picked the wrong person. I don't want your money or anything. End this here."
"Her arm can be healed. I can cast a spell—"
A slap rang out.
The mother, panting and furious, had struck Shirone's cheek, and the teachers' faces went pale.
'She hit one of the Five Greats. Insane.' But Amy understood why the slap had been allowed to land.
There was a reason they didn't dodge.
'Shirone's struggling too.'
Maybe taking one blow would ease the guilt that had been lodged inside him.
"Ah."
Coming to her senses, the mother looked at her hand.
Not because she'd struck a Great, but because she had never, ever raised a hand to hit someone before.
Shirone understood that feeling.
'My mother would do the same.'
Turning to the Wizard, he found her too breathless to join the fray.
"Mother."
Shirone faced the woman again.
"The Wizard is an extraordinary child. A normal seven-year-old would cry when an arm breaks—the pain overwhelms them, they can't hide it. That means she already understands pain in her head."
When the husband, who had checked their daughter earlier, arrived belatedly, the mother began to cry.
"What are you talking about? What does 'understanding pain' even mean? The Wizard isn't insane. She's just too terrified to cry."
The father joined in.
"Enough. I can't bear this. Why must my daughter be treated like that? Because we're poor farmers with nothing?"
"Quite the opposite."
Shirone's voice rose.
"Because she's outstanding. They push her because she can do it. What the Wizard is learning now is knowledge soaked in the blood and sweat of countless talents—things she could never achieve alone. She benefited from that, so when humanity faces danger, naturally she must…"
sacrifice herself.
'Is that really right?'
Shirone couldn't bring himself to say it aloud.
'Is a life where a beloved daughter grows into a lovely woman, meets a good person, loves, and lives happily—more important than the innovation that will change the world?'
"…I'm sorry."
Bowing to the parents, Shirone left the training ground.
"That's enough for today."
No one saw him off. The Wizard, after finishing treatment, approached.
"Mom, Dad. What's wrong?"
"Wizard!"
The mother wept as she touched the splinted arm.
"Was it so painful? How hard was it?"
"Where's big brother? Is training over?"
"Yes, it's over. Mom told you not to train with him. I won't leave you with someone like that again."
"Hmm."
The Wizard watched Shirone's retreating back with a bleak curiosity.
"Thanks, Mom. I almost really died this time. But I'm sorry about something…"
Hesitating, she continued.
"I'd rather you didn't interfere when I train from now on."
The parents were stunned.
"Wi—Wizard? What do you mean—"
"Sorry. I'll go see my brother. There's something I want to ask about this training."
As if truly urgent, the Wizard slipped through the crowd and followed Shirone.
No one spoke. Bartok, leader of the Council of Ten Mages, watched with a deepening gaze.
'Talent draws people in.'
The only adult the Wizard acknowledged.
He instinctively understood that clinging to Shirone was the only path to survival.
'No doubt about her potential, but I had doubts about temperament.'
When Shirone said she might die, she had smiled brightly and agreed.
'There wasn't much time to think.'
In the mind of a genius, perhaps all the tasks she would shoulder flashed by in an instant.
'I can sympathize with the Five Greats' position as well.'
Who would want to waste time when faced with the greatest talent in human history?
"Brother!"
A bright voice called from outside the training ground.