BVWG 25

chapter 25

My personal magic training continued.

When I focused, a faint light began to gather at my fingertips. To achieve even this result, I had to concentrate solely for three whole hours.

Moro said that for someone like me, who knew nothing, I was progressing very quickly—likely because my mana reserves were abundant.

Only after another six hours passed was I able to gather a white light the size of an apple in my hands.

By then, Q was already sprawled out on the opposite side of the training grounds. It seemed Moro had pushed him until he was completely drained.

To Moro, who knew no such thing as “moderation,” magic was the same for both Q and me.

I focused again on the light gathered in my hand. To my surprise, it wasn’t the gray color I’d seen in the crystal ball, but pure white.

It seemed that when I practiced magic, the demonic power inside me did not activate.

Was it because mana was the power of the White Dragon? Each time I touched that light, memories of facing the White Dragon came back to me.

Yet, the sensation was oddly lukewarm and unpleasant—almost as if my own mana was protesting, refusing to fully accept me. I wondered if this feeling would improve with more practice.

While I was caught in thought, Moro suddenly approached from behind. The cool scent of the sea that clung to him distracted me for a moment.

His unexpected closeness made me tense. He was standing almost flush against my back, his breath grazing my ear.

But Moro’s attention was fixed entirely on the ball of light in my hands, not on me. Embarrassed, I realized I was the only one being nervous.

“You’ve made remarkable progress. I think you’re ready now.”

He smiled warmly, clearly pleased. At least I had earned his approval. But truthfully, I was already exhausted, and continuing practice was beyond me.

“Is it enough just to be able to gather this much?”

“Well, the more, the better. Still, Lady Asha, your mana—like mine—bears a strong affinity with the White Dragon’s power. So yes, I believe it will be enough.”

“Then… shall we depart now?”

I meant: would we teleport immediately to the southern slums?

“The day is ending. It would be best to go now, but if you return too late, won’t Duke Esperanza be worried?”

Of course the duke would worry. That could be solved with a messenger in advance. The real issue was my fatigue from training.

Still, who knew when an incubus might reappear in the slums? So the sooner, the better. And even if I succeeded in gathering mana today, I couldn’t guarantee I’d manage the same tomorrow.

“I think we should leave now. If you’ll lend me a messenger from House Benvolio, I’ll send a letter to Duke Esperanza myself.”

“Then write it and give it to me. I’ll send it for you. I assure you—I’m no mere ceremonial magician.”

Moro winked, his crimson eyes gleaming playfully.

‘That’s right. He’s the one who once sent me letters via starlight.’

I nodded and wrote a note explaining my late return. With a silent incantation, Moro made the letter vanish from my hand.

Now it was time to ease the guilt I’d been carrying for the people in the southern slums.

“Are you ready?”

Moro’s eyes sparkled with boyish mischief, like an adventurer about to set off on a journey. With a few freckles on that handsome face, the look would have been perfect.

Soon a teleportation circle appeared beneath his feet. Just as I stepped onto it, Q—who had been lying weakly on the ground—suddenly called out:

“What about me? Do I go too, Master?”

When I turned, his face was pale and drained of energy.

“You’re in no condition, Quri. Stay here and rest until Lady Asha and I return.”

Moro’s reply was curt. Again, I noticed how differently he treated Q compared to me.

But Q actually looked relieved.

“Then may the grace of the White Dragon be with you both until you return.”

He barely managed a bow before collapsing back onto the floor.

As I stepped onto Moro’s teleportation circle, everything around me turned white.

The white light faded, and suddenly, scorching heat pressed in. Moro and I had arrived in the southern slums through teleportation.

At the barren edge of the land, the sun glowed blood-red as it dipped dangerously close to the horizon. The sky, bathed in that crimson light, resembled the color of Moro’s eyes.

“Lady Asha, this spot will do.”

Standing near the center of the slums, Moro struck the ground with his staff. A magic circle unlike any I’d ever seen spread out on the earth.

I looked around.

“Where is everyone? I don’t see a single person.”

“They’ve probably all gone into shelters by now. The deeper the night, the more likely the incubi are to appear.”

When I approached him, the parched air mixed with his strangely cool scent filled my nose.

Without hesitation, he took both my hands in his.

We stood palm to palm, our hands turned upward. His touch was smooth and cool against the stifling heat.

“Now, let us begin.”

Following his instruction, I focused on my fingertips.

The white light that had gathered there spread into my palms, forming a glowing sphere. Against the darkening sky, it shone brilliantly.

Suddenly, a sharp, cold current ran through me. Moro was channeling his mana into me. The sphere in my hands swelled larger and larger, until it was bigger than my own head, dazzling and mesmerizing.

Behind me, Moro chanted in a low voice. A breeze rose, lifting our hair.

His archaic words sounded almost like a priest’s prayer.

Then, the sphere exploded.

A rush of wind whirled around us, and the brilliant light scattered into stardust, drifting gently down from the dark sky.

The stardust sparkled across the entire slum. It was so beautiful that I forgot myself, staring in wonder.

We stood silently, taking in the magical sight.

“…It’s done.”

Moro finally stepped back, the scent of the sea that clung to him fading as he moved away.

“This will protect them from incubi?”

“It will keep out most lower-class incubi. The people here should be safe.”

Yes—that had been our goal. To shield the slums with a semi-permanent barrier against the creatures. This was the “better method” Moro had once whispered to me.

“Until now, I couldn’t manage it with only my own mana. Thanks to you, Lady Asha, it succeeded.”

“Are you sure it will hold?”

Worry crept in as I remembered my encounter with an incubus. Moro smiled gently.

“For lower-class ones, it’s guaranteed. For higher-class incubi… I can’t promise.”

“They’re divided into lower and higher classes?”

“Yes. The ones we fought here before were all lower-class—that’s why we could handle them.”

Moro stepped in front of me, smiling again.

“High-class ones appear only rarely. I’ve never seen one myself. And I hope you never will.”

We then discussed the possibility of expanding this barrier to protect the entire capital by improving my mana control.

Whenever the subject of magical theory came up, Moro’s crimson eyes lit up with childlike excitement.

He went on eagerly, listing possibilities one after another, until we finally concluded that even combined, our mana would not be enough. The capital simply had too many people and too wide a range.

I gave him a signal that it was time to return. Surely Q was anxiously waiting back at Duke Benvolio’s estate.

“Lady Asha, don’t you think it would be a shame to just leave? We’ve both worked so hard—let’s enjoy ourselves just for a little while, hm?”

He put on a pitiful expression, like a drenched puppy.

‘What is he plotting now?’

Either way, I couldn’t return without his teleportation. I had little choice but to follow.

“If that’s your wish, then let’s rest for just a short while.”

“Oh, how honored I am, to spend time alone with such a beautiful lady.”

With playful eyes, he threw out another shamelessly sweet line.

“You taught me so diligently today—this much I can grant my teacher.”

I teased back lightly, not to be outdone. But Moro grew serious.

“When it’s just the two of us, please, call me Moro. The title of ‘Master’ is enough for lessons.”

I searched his eyes to see if he truly meant it. He added:

“No, Lady Asha—you may call me Moro even during lessons.”

“Then I’ll save ‘Master’ only for lessons. So, Moro the magician, what shall we do?”

I smiled at him. After all the effort he had put into teaching me today, I decided to indulge him.

‘He said we should have fun, so he must have something in mind.’

Sure enough, he teleported us to the middle of a vast desert.

Under moonlight and starlight, the fine sand stretched endlessly, glittering like stardust.

“This desert is near the slums. It’s famous for being cool at night. Let’s draw pictures here before we go.”

“…Pictures?”

Why was he suddenly talking about drawing?

“I love drawing, you see.”

While I stood dumbfounded, he chuckled and began sketching in the sand with his great staff, now serving as nothing more than a paintbrush.

But I was in no mood to draw. Training all day and focusing my mana earlier had drained me. I simply plopped down onto the sand.

The desert air was refreshingly cool.

Since I had already decided to go along with this unpredictable magician’s whims, I resolved to just enjoy the moment.