Black Magic, White Magic, and Gray Sorcery – 1

Two hotspots had emerged in the Celsius territory, which was currently playing host to the Descent.

Naturally, one was the descending floating city. The capital of the Magic Federation and a miracle floating in the sky. Its interior was truly another world, where anomalies of gravity allowed people to walk on walls and ceilings. A marvel that paled in comparison to the Celsius territory, where at best ice froze a little bit better.

Even today, those who longed for the floating city lay in its shadow, mouths agape, awaiting the sweet fruits that might fall from above.

And the other was the academy where the mage from the floating city resided.

In a mere fifteen days, he had already produced five mages and awakened the mana sense in over a hundred, all while running a small academy in the backwoods. His accomplishments in those two weeks rivaled the entire Celsius territory’s annual output.

Word traveled faster than a runaway horse. All the fortune seekers in the floating city were already moving to meet him, the man rumored to confirm winning lottery tickets. There were so many people looking for him that non-existent scalped tickets were being sold.

…And, whispered in the shadows, the rumor that he secretly taught magic to even the unredeemable commoners. So many sought him out.

A beacon of hope for the common folk. The mage who creates mages. A mentor for the foolish citizenry.

The source of that rumor? That was me.

“Hilde, let ten in.”

“Yes! The first ten in line, come on through!”

Hilde stepped outside, her voice amplified. The queue, which had been holding its breath, erupted.

“I was the tenth! Who’s in front of me?”

“Hey, you! No cutting!”

“We’re a group of three. We were just holding the spot for them.”

“Since when does that work? You going to the afterlife together, too?”

Competition always gets ugly. Even something as simple as waiting in line. Hilde, once more, projected her voice.

“Everyone! No shenanigans. Take out the number slips we handed out earlier! We’ll go in order! Up to number ten!”

A boisterous cheer rippled through the crowd, and the students, hearts brimming with anticipation, began filing into the academy. Clutching that slim hope – to be chosen, to become a mage.

…And, even if they weren’t chosen, they could still learn rudimentary magic.

“Don’t push! I’m number one!”

“Who’s even pushing? There’s nobody behind me!”

“Ah! Uh oh…!”

Then. The line of students lurched sideways, as if swept by a rogue tide. The packed crowd, a continuous stream, slid like cargo on a conveyor belt. Desperate not to fall, they flailed, pushing against their neighbors, who then crashed into others like dominoes.

Pandemonium. Shouts and cries filled the air before the academy. People rolled away in a tangled mess, leaving the entrance clear.

“Excuse me.”

Into the vacant space strode a group.

A mage, cloaked in a robe shot through with a soft, ethereal blue. Flanking him were five guards. Skilled in Qigong, their eyes scanned the surroundings with sharp alertness.

“Get out of the way! Get up! My daughter’s under there!”

“Mom! Mommy!”

Chaos reigned. An unknown power, unleashed by the mage’s arrival, had swept them all aside.

The mage, who had been observing in silence, gestured lightly. The oppressive force lifted. With that single gesture, he had ‘cleared’ the area of all those people, now he surveyed them with an eye that might have sized up garbage.

In the midst of it all, one man had resisted. A retired mage, now running a small academy, rose to his feet, indignant.

“What do you think you’re doing! There are children here! How could you use such a violent spell?”

It was clear to anyone that the mage was responsible. Logically, who else would have the power, or the reason?

But the mage simply countered, brazenly.

“Magic? What magic?”

“You…!”

The old man fell silent, stumped.

He didn’t know what kind of magic it was. Once a mage himself, but never one of great skill. The magic wrought by the current generation of Seonmin was too complex for him to understand.

‘Magical energy permeates the space… wind attribute? But, there was no wind…’

The old man remained silent, and the mage, looking down at him, sneered.

“If you’re a mage, then prove it. Prove what magic I used. If you cannot, and yet you slander my name, I will sue you.”

There was a fundamental rule in the Federation of Mages. The burden of proof lay with the accuser.

This was, of course, logical. One cannot prove a negative, therefore the person claiming something happened must prove it did.

But, what if it was magic?

A phenomenon beyond common understanding, a force barely perceptible without magical detection?

The Federation of Mages held to the same rule. Even if it was magic, even if only a mage could prove it, the Federation still required the accuser to provide evidence.

As if in reprisal for witch hunts from a distant past.

Knowledge is power, and magic is authority.

That became the doctrine of the Mage Federation.

Good for me, I suppose.

“He used wind and crystal magics simultaneously. Solidifying the air with a faint crystalline structure, turning the space into something akin to jelly. He then moved it with Pascal, causing people to be pushed back at once.”

If he truly wanted to clear them away, a strong gust of wind or a push of ice would have sufficed. But the mage deliberately chose a difficult method. To show off his abilities, and to leave those lesser than him without a single argument to make.

A futile attempt, to me, who reads thoughts. I spoke the perfect answer, having read the mage’s mind. The old man then gasped in what seemed like genuine awe, and the mage twisted his lips in dissatisfaction.

‘A mage cast out from the floating city, preparing for the trials. He identified atmospheric crystallization immediately? He’s got some promise.’

That thought was fleeting. The mage addressed me with relatively polite words.

“My apologies for the tardiness. I am Tempelus Kelvin. A magi-scholar working for the Celsius Family. I have come to meet you after hearing the rumors.”

“Did you take a number?”

“…Pardon?”

I asked back with an apathetic expression.

“Did you take a number? Everyone here came to see me.”

Only then did Tempelus notice the numbered tickets held in the hands of the fallen people. The expression on Tempelus’s face hardened, easily deducing their purpose.

“Haha… A jest, surely. Do you truly see me as one of *them*?”

“Well, the order isn’t necessarily important. In special cases, I can see people before their turn, regardless of the number.”

“Of course.”

Huh? I wasn’t saying *you* were special. I corrected his misunderstanding.

“I hope your business is special enough to warrant disrupting my work. Otherwise, it’s simply a waste of time.”

“…!”

“Hilde, pack my things. It seems we are going on a trip today.”

Having called Hilde inside, I nonchalantly put on my coat and stepped outside. Ignoring Tempelus’s glare, I shouted to the slumped crowd.

“Today’s lesson is canceled. Study on your own while I’m gone. I don’t know when I’ll be back, but even if I do return, I can only impart magic to those who are prepared.”

“Ugh… I waited for days…”

“That man conjured magic that let him take first place without even drawing a number. The power to ignore the order – that is true magic. I urge you to work hard, so that you too, can become such a mage. That will be all.”

Tempelus’s face flushed red as he listened. Why? Could it be he thought my speech was sarcastic? But it wasn’t. I purely spoke the truth.

Just as I finished my speech, Hilde emerged with my luggage. I took it and gestured to Tempelus to follow. Tempelus spoke.

“This is not a place to bring a maidservant.”

“Then will you bathe me yourself?”

“…How vulgar. Do as you wish.”

‘If not for Lady Elisha’s words, I would have executed this imposter on the spot. Why does the Lady need someone like this?’

Biting his lip, Tempelus turned sharply. His guards widened the space between them, encircling me and Hilde. It was unclear whether it was protection or escort.

Under strict guard, I was led towards the heart of the Celsius domain.

The Celsius Family’s main residence is also called the Ice Castle. The reason is simple. That is the most concise and accurate explanation.

The appearance of the Celsius main residence is as if a castle of ice from a fairy tale was manifested in reality. The walls and pillars possess a subtle blue glow while remaining transparent. Clear crystals scatter the sunlight like a kaleidoscope, illuminating the world in place of the floating city-veiled sky.

Even the massive walls and towering gates were made of ice. Not of bricks, but solid ice, formed into that shape from the very beginning. Despite being an enormous inner castle, there wasn’t a single scratch or blemish on its surface. The unrealistically large ice castle was truly as clear and transparent as if it had been taken straight from imagination.

I casually reached out and touched the ice castle wall as I walked.

It’s warm.

For ice, anyway. I’d believe it if they told me it was frozen hot water.

Warm ice. Two words so utterly discordant, yet standing as a concept perfectly whole.

“Do you know the rules of the Celsius Domain?”

Temperus, who had been stealing glances at me, posed the question suddenly. I answered without looking at him.

“Above freezing and boiling, no?”

“Then you must also know the principle behind the ice of the Ice Fortress.”

*I wonder if you actually comprehend it. The Celsius Domain is the most affluent and accomplished within the Magic Federation. A place your type ought not dismiss so readily!*

A battle of wills already? Hmm. Too bad for you. Structurally, you cannot possibly pose a problem to me that I haven’t already anticipated.

Reading Temperus’ mind with ease, and then carefully weighing each thought, I chose words as elegant as possible.

“Warm ice does not melt. Because there is no warmth within me for it to take.”

“…That expression is, quite, poetical for a mage.”

Is that sarcasm? Lacking in literary refinement, are we? I clarified, for greater clarity.

“The Celsius Domain’s rule is above freezing and boiling. Meaning the ice isn’t formed by cold, but rather by magical power structuring its crystalline matrix. That rule is applied with strength to the fortress walls, creating an ice close to room temperature. This is thanks to Celsius’ unique original magic and…the relic it left behind, no?”

*A relic? A wanderer, not even of the Celsius family, knows that much…?!*

Temperus wore a look of bewilderment, clearly not expecting me to be aware of the relic. I savored his reaction, adding lightly,

“How did I know it was a relic, you ask? It only requires a moment’s thought to arrive at the answer. Even above freezing, the freezing point could not possibly be this elevated. Otherwise, there would be no water to drink, and we’d all die of thirst. Yet, the water in my flask remains unfrozen. Thus, the magic is only affecting the ice structures. Surely, this cannot be a product of white magic. And even less likely that a mage would be constantly unleashing their original magic. That leaves the conclusion of original magic as an unthinking phenomenon…a relic.”

A relic would cause this wondrous effect without the constant application of magical power. And the Celsius Domain would, of course, possess relics of this nature.

Perhaps too many words had slipped from my lips, because Temperus cleared his throat, attempting to cut me off.

“Ahem, ahem. There’s no need for such explanations.”

“That’s the wrong response.”

“Pardon?”

“The answer you should give is gratitude. You seemed to lack comprehension, so I kindly elucidated the matter for you.”

Blatant disregard inflamed Temperus’ face a fiery red.

Temperus was a patrician. Tasked with resolving matters for the Celsius family, he was skilled enough to ascend to the Floating City, had he truly desired.

He simply chose to live large in the Celsius Domain rather than scrape by in the Floating City. A man accustomed to dismissing others, never to being dismissed.

Yet here I was, a drifter from who-knows-where, openly mocking him. A deeply humiliating situation for Temperus.

But what could I do?

I, with my gift of mind-reading, hold a slender advantage over anyone when it comes to a contest of knowledge. What he knows, I know also, but what I know, he does not.

Therefore, I stood one step above any person within this Magic Federation.

Which meant I was the best. Wasn’t that the truth in this Magic Federation?

Weary from my unwavering arrogance, Temperus glared at me.

“…Enough. I understand your excellence. I was skeptical at first, but witnessing you and speaking with you directly has made it undeniably clear.”

“I comprehend. People often don’t know until they see for themselves.”

“I do not know if you deserve to be so prideful, but I understand why Milady held your abilities in high esteem.”

As Temperus spoke, he guided me into the heart of the Ice Fortress. I strode forward with bold confidence. The ice doors slid open silently.

“However, this land is the domain of the Celsius family.”

And with that, the Ice Fortress gate slammed shut behind me, cutting off my escape. As if on cue, Temperus snapped his fingers. His five guards turned, encircling me. Their sharp auras made it clear that they were no longer merely acting as escorts.

Hilde clutched her bag fearfully, feigning terror as she trembled.

“U-uh? Teacher. What’s happening? You said this was a business trip?”

“It seems this is what they call business. To threaten me?”

Amidst the tension that threatened to erupt into violence, Temperus slammed his staff against the ground. As he did so, a section of the ice wall melted away, revealing hidden facilities within.

A prison formed of icicles, elongated like bars. Devoid of any amenity or furniture, purely constructed for the purpose of confinement. And within those bars, people were trapped, frozen solid.

Not quite dead yet. This ice, too, was crafted by magic. A bit chilly, perhaps, but less so than being submerged in water. They were merely prisoners within the icy shells that encased them.

I recognized several faces among them.

“The Celsius family has given me orders, Hughes. The foolish citizen’s teacher.”

Richard, whom I met in the outer district, his friend, and the dullards who snuck into the academy at night.

All of them were people who had learned ritual magic from me.

“To either enlist you, or…eliminate you for spreading black magic throughout the territory.”

Presenting irrefutable evidence, Temperus aimed his staff at me.