A Genius Mage Hides His Origins

3 – Eugene

Clang!

A clear metallic sound echoed. The sound of a coin falling onto another coin.

It rang not once or twice, but a whopping eight times in a row. It was the sound of new coins entering my “piggy bank.”

A rough object with a hole the size of a coin drilled into the lid of an empty tin can. Once you put a coin in, you can’t take it out again….

Or so I said.

In reality, I could take it out whenever I wanted.

It’s just a canned food tin. Merely hitting it against a rock would easily tear it open, spewing its contents.

“I’ve gathered quite a bit.”

Shaking the piggy bank from side to side, a solid, jingling sound of coins echoed. Inside, there was enough money for a meal like today’s for a month.

How many times had the urge to break the savings surged when hunger struck?

Nevertheless, somehow, they endured.

“Buy only enough food to eat, save the rest of the money.” It was a rule they had followed for the past five years.

Today, too, they stuck to that rule. Eight shillings saved. Three pieces of leftover bread. With this, they could manage for a week if they were careful.

“…”

Should have bought one more bread.

Suppressing the rising regret with the savory taste of the fish that tickled their palate.

All these futile efforts were for one thing only.

Satiety brought forth drowsiness.

“I should get some sleep.” Safely hiding the piggy bank in a crevice between rocks and tidying up the remaining bread, they carefully placed the spellbook inside their bosom. They didn’t want to part with it for even a moment.

They had a dream.

It took the form of a book, bearing the name of magic.

Not here.

There’s no magic in the Empire. A distant land beyond the strait. The Provia Federation. Magic resided there. If one wanted to dig a well, one had to go there; if one wanted to learn, one had to go there.

So, they started saving. Two hundred and forty shillings over nine years. In total, twelve pounds had accumulated in the piggy bank.

The goal is eighty pounds.

The fare to Provia.

I covered myself with a blanket and lay down on the stone floor, imagining a brilliant magical civilization. The time I would spend with my classmates in the Procedure Workshop.

Luckily, I had a vivid imagination. That day, the scene that unfolded in my dream was incredibly vivid.

Even though it was cold, it didn’t feel cold.

December 13th. Rain.

It’s freezing.

“Ugh. Ugh.”

When I woke up from an uncomfortable sleep, I realized that my body was stiff like a wooden doll.

This wasn’t the beginning of a literary work that cultured people enjoy. It was a true story, where instead of turning into an insect, I almost froze to death overnight, with the scent of a shabby life permeating the air.

No longer was “if you sleep in a cold place, your mouth freezes” a figure of speech. There’s a living witness right here.

If it was a collaboration between the night, rain, and the riverbank, it wouldn’t have been a big deal to soak a person. I had to survive. I had to force myself to move, eat something, and generate heat.

I got up with my stiff body and took out a wheat bread.

Crunch—

“Huh…?”

The bread bounced off my teeth.

What’s this? I’m pretty sure I bought bread at the market, not a rock.

The rain that fell overnight ruined everything. Hypothermia, headache, and now even the bread that froze solid in the dampness. There really is no such thing as a free lunch in this world.

“I’m screwed if I go out to work…”

I gave up quickly. Begging on a day like this… Going out to do business would have been a waste of time. Even in a pouring rain, a [disc] wouldn’t fulfill its role.

I’ll just stay still.

I crouched down and covered myself with a blanket. As I did, my stiff body began to loosen gradually.

Eating the millet bread slowly was satisfying enough.

The shivering of my body subsided.

In harmony with that, the sound of raindrops on the roof intensified.

Quaaa― The river, transformed into a rapid, flowed fiercely.

An untimely downpour. It was different from the drizzle that comes to mind during the winter monsoon. Rain alone is depressing enough, but a downpour? It doubles the gloom in people’s hearts.

Certainly, refugees, Pravia soldiers, and whoever else must be huddled in corners with dark faces.

But my case was different.

This was an opportunity.

“All right. I’ll practice without any reservations.”

While hidden in the blanket, I took out the magic book. As expected, the jewel-shaped ornament on the cover emitted a deeper blue light than ever before.

Shururuk. I opened the pages.

Although the magic book was essentially a tool for magical assistance, it was, in the end, a book. As I turned each page, densely engraved characters and shapes greeted me.

The writing had a faint blue glow.

Another characteristic of the magic book. Thanks to the self-luminous ink, I could smoothly turn the pages even under the overcast sky and shadow of the legs.

The ‘research objective’ had already been determined.

Shururuk. The pages being turned came to a sudden halt. The early to mid-section of a thick book.

Adorning its beginning were these words.

『λευιτατιον』

That’s right.

Can’t read it!

I’m not blind. However, being someone who only knows the characters I’ve learned painstakingly, reading the quite different Phrauvia script from spelling seems unlikely.

But to cast spells with a spellbook, you have to pronounce its name.

The reason I only knew three spells was simple.

[Dᴇsᴄ (disc)] and [Mᴏᴠᴇ (move)] had simple spellings, so I grasped them quickly.

And another one. I “discovered” [Rᴏᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ (rotation)] in this way.

“Le—”

Leou— Las— Lina— Lie—

—tation.

“Maybe not this.”

Guessing.

It’s ignorant, but it’s a surefire way. If the characters flash clearly when you spit out any syllable, it’s a success.

Of course, among ignorance and certainty, ignorance is more emphasized. If you’re wrong, a fair amount of magic drains away. It took three years to figure out the [Rᴏᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ] spell.

It’s not something you can ask a Phrauvian about, so I was lucky to succeed when my insides were about to burst.

Still, now I know that the pronunciation of the string ‘τατιον’ is ‘tation.’

The remaining part is the ‘leui’ at the beginning. I should be able to figure it out in a few weeks.

Vino— Liga— Ruwi— Eli—

—tation.

The light on the cover fades momentarily, then replenishes.

Heavy rain is precious. It allows me to repeat failures to my heart’s content.

Leaving aside the short spells, there was a separate reason for enduring this ordeal to master ‘λευιτατιον.’

In the magic book, illustrations adorned the pages as much as the characters and diagrams. Perhaps there was nothing better to induce imagination. I couldn’t say for sure, but even on the page with ‘λευιτατιον,’ there was a drawing.

—-

/

⍢/

/ /

/￣/

//

ω

_____

—-

“…….”

Honestly, it looked a bit crude.

Suddenly, the author’s mental state seemed dubious, but the drawing was clearly conveying something. It suggested that by mastering this magic, one could soar into the sky.

If I devoted myself to the decryption called reading, the cold gradually faded away. And so, I spent the whole day with my nose in the magic book, muttering to myself.

#December 15th. Slightly cloudy.

The day broke.

The sound of small birds chirping. Sunlight peeking through the gaps in the clouds. The gently flowing river due to the lowered water level.

It was the beginning of an incredibly refreshing day.

Except for one thing. The bread was stale.

Kkorurruk―

“Could you please be a bit quieter? You’ve eaten your fill, haven’t you.”

Starving is routine. There have been times recently when I went without food for three days, and no matter how it happened, I always endured.

But humans are truly cunning. Just seeing the stomach that stayed silent even in times of starvation grumble after only a night of hunger is something.

Perhaps it’s because of the memory of devouring two fish.

What should I do about this?

From now on, it’s a downturn.

Now that it’s daylight, I’ll go out into the streets. I will go out, but the problem is the Remy family.

How was it when we met last time? Beaten all day because of a spellbook and even emptied Remy’s pockets.

No matter what, Remy must have realized by now. That their wallet was stolen. And that I pulled off some kind of trick.

“They’ll be searching with a fire in their eyes.”

During the days of rain, Remy’s figure was nowhere to be seen.

That’s solely because they don’t know where I live.

Today is different. If I get caught by them again, it won’t end with just a beating, especially now that there’s an excuse with not only a spellbook but also an attempted pickpocketing.

Dilemma.

I have to go out into the streets and shout, “Give me a penny―,” but I mustn’t run into the Remy family.

“……”

Of course, there’s a solution. Literally, even if I go out into the streets, I just have to avoid running into the Remy family. If I head to a distant place where their footsteps won’t reach, it’s over.

It’s still risky since I shouldn’t be caught during my travels.

“It can’t be helped.”

I stood up, brushing off my knees.

There was no choice. If I didn’t go out into the streets, I would have to keep starving.

“As long as I don’t get caught. Just don’t get caught…”

I emerged from under the bridge, tightly clutching the spellbook in my arms. If I could make it to the neighboring town without them noticing, it would be a success. It was a flawless plan.

*

I didn’t expect the flaw in the plan to be discovered so quickly.

The initial feeling was good. I ran through the streets inconspicuously yet swiftly. Whenever I caught a glimpse of the faces of the paupers, I veered away immediately.

Smooth sailing.

But I had forgotten one thing.

I wasn’t only being chased by Remy the pauper.

“…Why is that person over there?”

The elderly Frauviere I had made eye contact with before. Presumably a bounty hunter.

Sitting on a bench at the intersection leading to the neighboring town was the elderly man from that time.

“….”

He looked sturdier than most young men. The elderly man, leisurely reading a newspaper, even seemed docile at first glance. Don’t be deceived by appearances.

Keep reading that newspaper.

I threw myself into the act with all my might. Now, I’m just a passerby who forgot something.

A face of realization! A gesture of “Oh no!” I stopped naturally and then smoothly redirected my steps.

That was the plan.

“Ah.”

Their eyes met again.

The old man covered the newspaper.