Who Learned Dark Magic

Evil sprouts from weakness.

It digs into the gaps between those struggling to survive, dons a mask and extends a hand as the abandoned thrash about. Anyone gazing up at a shadow reflected in the sky from the abyss would see an angel, wouldn’t they? Chosen weaklings devotedly support the evil-doers with their bodies and minds.

Thus, evil bestows interest and affection upon the discarded, and in return, uses them as hosts to plot in the shadows.

This is why evil grows in weak and filthy places, and why the order worries itself sick over the treatment of the weak.

But, even if that is evil to the order…

Is it truly evil to those abandoned by the order?

*

The military state’s bio-terminal is a considerably complex device. It interprets physical information into magical data, processes it into an imprinted Ark Avatar for use, and grants eligibility for the myriad magical benefits provided by the military state.

Magical benefits, meaning being used as a living source of mana, but still.

In truth, ceremonial magic is closer to a bonus compared to the countless functions the bio-terminal possesses. Even in a military state implementing universal education, only a very small number of people can properly wield ceremonial magic. From the start, the military state needs magical power, not ordinary people using dark magic. Ceremonial magic occupies a small portion of the bio-terminal.

Therefore, by completely removing any room for such abuse from the bio-terminal.

If one looks solely at ‘ceremonial magic’ with pure good intentions, opening that path is very easy.

The basic principle of ceremonial magic is to compare the five fingers to the five elements, then form a simple magic circle with incantation and hand seals.

Even the human body, with its non-homogeneous structure, possesses mana. This internal mana is easier to handle than the natural mana outside the body. It’s difficult to create a systematic structure with non-homogeneous internal mana, but the bones, blood vessels, and nerves of the fingers possess a tower-like structure in themselves.

Building a structure from scratch with mana is difficult, but it becomes much easier if a structure already exists. First, make a hand seal to block off a portion of the blood vessels and nerves. Then, with a bit of focus and the chanting of an incantation, mana flows through a specific blood vessel, forming a structure within the fingers.

In other words, it is dark magic akin to white magic, using nerves and blood vessels as a magic circle, and activating it with the internal mana that everyone possesses.

At the very least, one must know how to channel mana through the nerves and blood vessels, so a procedure is essential to pierce the path and send mana directly. The military state punctures the wrist, but I have no need to go that far.

Because I have the Blood God and the Lightning God. I can create a clean path without any side effects.

The foolish mages of the old kingdom.

The foolish mage’s magic created by Majaang, Preluviore, is ceremonial magic.

Using that, I must fulfill the wishes of the ignorant masses who desire to become members of the Magic Federation.

Missionary Cassas did not report Richard. He was good enough, as a missionary should be. In the meantime, I continued education, moving between the academy and the Outcast district.

My education was too outstanding, and regardless of which school district came to me, every talented child awakened magic detection. I accomplished in just two weeks what others failed to do in years. The voices praising my achievements grew louder with each passing day.

But, the brighter the light shone, the more those in despair there were.

“Teacher…! Just, could you spare a moment…!”

My abilities are beyond question. A fact already proven by countless achievements.

So then, what about those who have yet to awaken? The underachievers who, even after receiving my instruction, still haven’t grasped the basics?

Is education not suited for them?

Was it just bad luck?

Were they simply under the weather?

All such excuses were refuted by the existence of ‘me’.

“M-my child hasn’t sensed any mana. The Saturns next door, and the Neils after them, all sensed mana! My child has been attending your classes since the very first day!”

Ah, a regrettable situation.

However, people are all different, and talents vary wildly.

There are children whose minds are sharp and absorb information quickly, but their mana sensing is hopelessly poor.

There are children who can vaguely sense mana, but it doesn’t align with any particular element, leaving it adrift.

There are children who have awakened to mana sensing, but their pure intelligence is so low that they can’t understand the principles.

And, there are simply many underachievers who lack the talent. Who haven’t understood anything at all.

“What makes my child different from those children? Why can’t they succeed…?!”

Excuses about their environment don’t work for these people. They’d almost envy the unranked. The unranked are at least lottery tickets that haven’t been scratched yet. These underachievers… they’ve already revealed their blank prize.

I replied with an indifferent expression.

“You must know the reason. Do I need to explain?”

Your child is without talent. My abilities cannot awaken them.

I conveyed the cold truth in my expression.

“Hic!”

At my cold words, the parent’s gaze momentarily shifted backward.

Behind them stood a child, huddled up and shrinking in on themself. They hadn’t done anything specifically wrong, but their heart was filled with guilt. For being inadequate, for failing to meet expectations, for being unable to repay their parents’ investment.

*I’m sorry for being born like this,* they were apologizing behind the parent begging to me.

But the apology offered in their heart didn’t reach them, and the parent, consumed by despair, cried out.

“How… seven of them we had, and not a single one! Not a single one can manage it! They’re all just freeloaders, good-for-nothings…!”

The mother sobbed.

The outer reaches of the school district. If you exclude the unranked, they are the poorest and lead the most difficult lives. The only way to overcome this hardship and seek a social climb is by winning the lottery.

A single lottery ticket issued after a man and woman of suitable age meet and endure a ten-month wait. To have scratched blanks for nearly a decade.

To have pulled seven blank tickets. The result of ambition that didn’t match their station.

“No. We still have the youngest left!”

“Teacher, I’ll bring the youngest to the school! The youngest still has hope!”

The parent, remembering the one remaining lottery ticket, clung to me again. I wasn’t particularly interested, but I asked out of courtesy.

“How old are they?”

“…Eight, they’re eight years old! The child has already learned to read and write!”

In truth, they’re six, but they’ve inflated the age by two years. Furthermore, they haven’t even fully learned to read and write. Will that really work?

“I don’t have the time for that. I have to return to the Floating City in two weeks anyway.”

As I spoke those words and turned my body, the mother rather roughly grabbed my shoulder.

“W-we can’t do that! We haven’t achieved any results yet…!”

In the Magic Federation, a newly born child is a lottery ticket yet to be scratched. A lottery ticket with a prize payout proportional to their magical talent.

Reflecting on that truth, I glanced at the hand gripping my shoulder.

“Take your hand off me.”

Wouldn’t she? Was she implying she’d force the issue? Well, it wouldn’t matter much. It didn’t take magic to brush off someone’s hand.

I simply brushed her hand away. With that single motion, my mother’s hand flew back. A shrill cry pierced the air, drawing stares.

Despair, resignation, fear, humiliation. A maelstrom of negative emotions swirled.

I brushed dust from my clothes, then turned back to look at my sobbing mother.

The yearning for magic, the stubbornness, the obsession – all things this system granted. Well, I wouldn’t deny it. It’s natural to embrace societal goals as your own dreams.

“I can’t teach a dullard to master white magic, but I can teach them relatively simple ritual magic.”

So, I would fulfill dreams.

“Do you want to learn magic?”

My parents nodded desperately. It was a sight bordering on frantic. As if realizing this was their last chance.

They pleaded, not wanting to be cast out as an ‘outsider’, and I granted their wish.

Situations like this repeated dozens of times.

Surprisingly, ‘outsiders’ rarely sought me out. Those who had already given up on magic neither knew what ritual magic was nor how it could help them and were unwilling to even try. A few young people still clinging to dreams and hope, like Richard, came to me to learn ritual magic.

Ironically, the academic underachievers were more proactive. Terrified that my disappearance would mean they’d never learn magic, they accepted anything, even ritual magic.

A brief incantation, a simple hand seal, and instantly manifesting, novice-level magic. Ritual magic was easy to handle and even useful. Especially because it could replace the starting mana of magical tools. Even the ignorant masses could significantly reduce mana consumption with ritual magic.

The technology of the militaristic empire gathered all the good in the world and forged evil through efficiency. I simply extracted the evil and made pure tools.

The common folk, having obtained the tool of magic, rejoiced. Ritual magic or anything, magic was magic. What they gained was precious and worthwhile knowledge. The masses flaunted it. Foolishly, it seemed.

Yet, this news had not yet reached the magical noble families awaiting the descent of the floating city.

But it would soon.