Became the Unjust Contract Slave of the Archamage’s Book

“Then the contract is sealed.” The boy smiled gently. The breath that escaped his smile tickled Binaeril’s nose. They were close enough for Binaeril to smell the boy’s scent, an odd mix of sable leather and the musty pages of an old book. It was an unnatural scent, and Binaeril realized that it didn’t belong to a living being. 

“How are you going to help me?” Binaeril asked. 

“What is magic?” the boy replied with another question. 

Here we go again, answering questions with questions. But Binaeril had no choice but to think hard since he needed answers. 

“Magic is the power to make imagination a reality,” he said. 

“No. That’s only half the story. The other half is missing.” 

“What is it?”

Veritas whispered as if revealing a secret of the world. “Magic is the ‘belief’ that turns imagination into reality. What did you learn at school?”

“Belief that turns imagination into reality?” 

Binaeril felt as if someone had hit him with a hammer. He had been pondering this very issue—belief. But hearing it from someone else made it seem even more crucial. 

“Yes. Without belief, it’s useless. Would a god grant a vision to a prophet without belief?” 

Binaeril decided to test Veritas. “Is it really that simple?”

“Disappointing, isn’t it?” 

Magicians always considered themselves special. Only a handful of students out of hundreds, even thousands, could learn magic and advance. Binaeril thought it was a matter of talent, an innate ability that could not be matched no matter how hard one tried. But was it really just about belief? 

“Of course, there are differences in innate personality. How persistently one pursues their imagination, how tenaciously one clings to and creates it, how earnestly one believes in it…” 

“Even so.” 

“Too simple, isn’t it?” 

Binaeril nodded. 

Veritas sighed softly, as if exasperated by Binaeril’s failure to understand something so simple. “What is the way to build strength and become stronger? Isn’t it through daily effort, sweating and training every day?”

“Yes…” 

“Then why do most people fail to achieve what is clearly known?”

“Well…” 

Binaeril couldn’t answer easily. He thought he understood what Veritas was saying. 

“The reasons and methods to achieve something are not complicated. They are so simple that they become difficult. And only lazy humans wrap it up as talent, Binaeril.” 

Binaeril looked into Veritas’s eyes, which were as deep and black as his hair. They seemed to be questioning him, ‘How much of a person are you?’ 

“No matter how much I tell you now, you won’t easily accept it. Binaeril, what is the most certain way to shatter doubt?”

Veritas tapped Binaeril’s nose with his finger. 

“It is to prove it. With what? With facts. No one can deny given facts.” 

From Binaeril’s stunned grasp, a cube, given as an assignment, fell. Veritas picked it up and held it in his palm, striking a dramatic pose. If actions could speak, his pose would say, ‘I will now show you magic!’ 

“I have seen countless spells at Elfenbine.” 

“Yes.” 

“Do you think seeing your spell once will suddenly make me understand its principle?”

“No? What kind of foolishness is this? Do you think I went through all this trouble just to show you a magic trick?”

“Then…”

The rest of his words got caught in his throat. His vision was suddenly overtaken by an unexpected perspective.

“What?”

Binaeril let out a foolish groan. But anyone who experienced a completely different perspective in the blink of an eye would react the same way.

-Synchronized our senses. Not just senses, but thoughts, emotions, ideas, and even beliefs.

Someone was speaking in his mind. Sharing thoughts seemed to mean this. Binaeril was shocked. The magic had happened in the blink of an eye, and he hadn’t heard any incantation.

“How powerful of a magician are you?” he awkwardly asked, borrowing someone else’s voice.

-I’m afraid this isn’t magic. I’m not a magician. And what I will show you next is real magic.

Binaeril’s body began to move against his will. Actually, it was probably Veritas’s body. Veritas projected his imagination towards the egg inside the cube.

“!”

An unbelievably intricate image. The steel-like belief directed at the cube in his hand. A trigger-like incantation emerged from Veritas’s mouth.

“Shatter into pieces.”

This was also a first-time incantation. It sounded more like a command than an incantation. Or perhaps a declaration for showmanship. Regardless, in Binaeril’s ears, it carried the weight of a solemn pronouncement.

Though it was the same 1st-tier destructive magic, the result was entirely different. The egg inside the cube cracked all over its shell. If not for the cube containing it, the egg would have shattered completely. Even without seeing, Binaeril believed it.

Veritas’s incantation held that kind of gravity. A coercive will strong enough to convince others entirely. 

When he blinked again, Binaeril was back in his own body.

-Now it’s your turn.

Veritas was nowhere to be seen, and the cube lay on the floor. Binaeril picked it up as if entranced. 

Perhaps.

Perhaps the history of his failures over the past three years could be rewritten today.

-Try casting the spell again as you felt it.

An old, dusty book fluttered and floated in the air above Binaeril’s shoulder. It was a shocking sight, but Binaeril ignored it. The sensation he had just felt, if he didn’t concentrate, he felt he might lose that delicate feeling forever.

Binaeril swallowed hard and placed the cube on his palm. Then he imagined revolutionarily.

“Shatter into pieces.”

The entire cube began to vibrate. The small, square cube in his palm let out a creaking groan.

“This is…!”

Fluttering in the air, Veritas’s voice carried pride.

-Binaeril Dalheim, I have fulfilled my part of the contract. The rest of the promise depends on you.

***

“Ahem.”

Professor Freud cleared his throat as he stood in front of the classroom. Just the thought of seeing that boy again made irritation surge within him.

‘An arrogant brat with his head in the clouds.’

He soon entered the classroom and called roll.

“…Binaeril Dalheim.”

“Good. Everyone is here.”

Professor Freud looked down at the students.

“Submit the assignments I gave you last time.”

Gospelt, his assistant, collected the students’ cubes. Those who succeeded with the assignment sat on the left, and those who didn’t sat on the right.

Destruction magic, which applies force to objects, is the most basic form of 1st-tier magic. Based on the success of this assignment, Elfenbine divides students into two categories: those who qualify for regular classes and those who don’t—referred to as juniors and seniors, respectively.

Most of the cubes remained intact on the right side, while only a few cubes on the left had minor cracks in the eggs inside them. Those who had succeeded in becoming seniors submitted their assignments on the left.

Professor Freud noticed that Binaeril remained seated without submitting anything. Was he refusing to listen to the professor now?

“Binaeril,” Professor Freud called out, “why haven’t you submitted your cube?”

Binaeril did not respond. Professor Freud felt a surge of satisfaction, thinking he had finally caught him in the act.

“Did you even attempt it? I try to maintain a fair attitude, not blaming a student’s lack of talent, but watching you, sometimes it feels like that effort is wasted.”

The other students knew that Professor Freud’s words were nonsense. He was notoriously biased, even among the professors. However, there weren’t many students who pitied Binaeril. Quite a few disliked him just as much as the professors did.

“You always have such a sharp tongue… It seems like arguing is your only talent. Have you considered my offer to help you with your expulsion?”

Today, Professor Freud seemed particularly fixated on Binaeril, creating a tense atmosphere in the classroom. Some students eagerly watched, hoping for a spectacle, while others wished for this uncomfortable moment to pass quickly.

Binaeril finally spoke. “…Please, be quiet.”

His voice was low but loud enough for most in the silent classroom to hear.

“What did you say?” Professor Freud couldn’t believe his ears. Was this boy openly defying him?

Binaeril showed rare signs of discomfort. “I’m sorry, Professor. That wasn’t directed at you.”

“Do you think I’m deaf at my age?”

The situation was rapidly deteriorating. Professor Freud’s face turned red with anger.

“I won’t tolerate a student who can’t even complete such a simple task! Binaeril Dalheim, pack your things and leave this classroom immediately!”

Professor Freud decided he couldn’t allow such insubordination to continue.

“But, Professor, there’s a reason I couldn’t submit the assignment.”

“While practicing… I accidentally destroyed the cube.”

A moment of silence followed. Neither Professor Freud nor the students immediately understood what Binaeril meant.

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. I broke it while practicing, so I couldn’t submit it.”

A few students let out nervous laughs as they processed what he had said.

“That cube was designed by the equipment department to withstand considerable force… No matter. Binaeril Dalheim, come forward.”

Professor Freud called Binaeril to the front of the class.

“Are you saying you managed to break the unbreakable cube?”

Binaeril shrugged, maintaining that he was telling the truth, a nonchalant attitude that further irritated Professor Freud.

“Come out now!”

Binaeril walked to the front with an unshaken demeanor.

“Binaeril Dalheim, if you’re telling the truth, demonstrate it again. If you fail, I will formally propose your expulsion at the next faculty meeting.”

Professor Freud selected a cube from the right-side pile and handed it to Binaeril. He hesitated before taking it and then spoke.

“I want you to promise me one thing.”

…

“If I succeed, I want you to apologize for all the disparaging remarks you’ve made about me in front of the other students.”

“What?” Professor Freud locked eyes with Binaeril.

‘What confidence does he have to act this way?’

Binaeril’s gaze was as calm as ever. He wore the same expression when Professor Freud openly belittled him and when he repeatedly failed his assignments. But today, something was different. There was an indefinable certainty in his eyes.

“Stop wasting time and get on with it,” Professor Freud deflected.

Binaeril didn’t press further. He placed the cube on the podium and, in the same cheerful tone as before, recited the incantation for everyone to hear. That was it. No elaborate gestures or dramatic preparations. The cube remained still, seemingly unchanged.

“See? What makes you think you can—”

Professor Freud’s words trailed off. Cracks began to form on the seemingly calm cube. Following the fissures, the egg inside also started to crack.

“This is impossible!”

Despite Professor Freud’s wishes, the cube shattered into pieces, just as Binaeril had said. 

“Ah!” 

Students in the front row raised their arms to shield themselves from the flying debris.

“Sorry, Professor. I had trouble controlling my strength. As you know, I’m a bit lacking,” Binaeril said with a slight smile.

But no one else in the classroom was smiling.

“I’ll expect your apology later. For now, you should continue the lesson,” Binaeril concluded firmly and returned to his seat.

-Wasn’t that a bit much?

-You didn’t have trouble controlling your strength; you did it on purpose!

-Just look at the professor’s dumbfounded expression. Priceless.

“Shut up,” Binaeril whispered to the inner voice. Veritas was right; it was an uncharacteristically emotional action. But he didn’t regret it. He felt relieved.

For the first time in three years, a bit of the bitterness in his heart started to melt away.