The Inept Mage's Infinite Regression - Chapter 10

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Translator: Ryuu

Editor: Gorm

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◈ The Inept Mage’s Infinite Regression

Chapter 10

"Did you already know where my room was?" Ethan asked.

"Yes," replied Moraiotz.

"Then I suppose there was no need for me to guide you."

"That’s right… Just now, did you sense a presence inside the room?"

"Yes."

"So body magic has improved your hearing… It seems I made a mistake treating you like an ordinary human mage."

In a single motion, Ethan drew his dagger, turned around, and threw it at Moraiotz.

Clang!

Moraiotz easily deflected the dagger with his sword, and Ethan drew his own sword in response.

"Why are you resisting?" Moraiotz asked.

"If I had entered the room carelessly, I would have been captured without a fight. Anyone can tell that an unfair situation would then unfold." Ethan added, "…Especially if the ones orchestrating it are demons."

Moraiotz nodded. "I see. You humans fear us… If you stop resisting now, I can ensure that you will be interrogated without pain—or at least, with less pain."

"…"

"Of course, I will use mental magic alongside it, but there will still be parts you can answer of your own free will. Hmm. Probably. If you are not a dark mage, is that not a reasonable deal? You’ll have the chance to prove your innocence."

Ignoring Moraiotz’s ramblings, Ethan suddenly turned and ran.

Some ancient mages had believed that the human body had limitations in wielding magic. To surpass these limits, they had modified their bodies through self-experimentation. When that hadn’t been enough, they’d altered their bloodlines, hoping their descendants would attain enlightenment. This practice was known as demonic sorcery. Even though demons interacted with modern humans, conversations often revealed an insurmountable gap beyond mere appearance. Like dark magic, demonic sorcery was strictly forbidden in Damarth Yumaha.

Moraiotz pointed his sword at Ethan and shouted, "→Rokari, Madem…"

Ethan glanced back. <What’s going on?>

<That’s demon magic!>

Ethan was sprinting down a long corridor. He had no room to dodge the spell.

"→Masara!"

Ethan felt a faint surge of magical energy flying toward him and stopped in his tracks.

"…Huh?"

He checked himself, then looked back. Moraiotz, now at a considerable distance, looked stunned. He kept glancing between his sword and Ethan.

Ethan took off running again. <What just happened?>

Magical failures were not uncommon. Multiple factors went into the composition of a spell. Whether a mage was using a spell for the first time or had cast it multiple times before, unfamiliarity often led to failure. In addition to proficiency, environmental conditions and even the caster's emotional state could affect the outcome. Mages typically relied on well-practiced spells in battle, but failure was always an option.

Ethan was convinced that Moraiotz had not received permission from Rivielton. Although he had claimed Ethan was merely a witness, he hadn’t followed any proper procedure. If Rivielton or another professor found them, they might be able to restrain him.

"→Sasani, Bart. →Shon, Whiret!"

Ethan was already descending the dormitory stairwell, dismissing Moraiotz’s incantations. However, he soon realized that he wouldn’t be able to ignore them.

As Ethan crossed the second-floor gallery leading to the main building, he noticed Moraiotz running—no, scaling the wall. And he was moving at an unnatural speed.

Ethan recognized the aura enveloping Moraiotz’s body.

Before Ethan could react, Moraiotz leaped onto the balcony railing and reached for Ethan’s head.

"→Maraina, Masara!"

From Moraiotz’s hand, a powerful surge of magic struck Ethan’s forehead. The sheer volume of colorless energy, failing to condense all at once, erupted into visible wisps before again reorganizing and converging on Ethan’s head. Ethan didn’t know what the spell would do, but he could tell that it was incredibly powerful.

The entire process—from the moment Moraiotz’s hand touched Ethan’s forehead to the moment Ethan collapsed—took less than a second.

Yet all Ethan felt was a slight tickling sensation on his forehead. Nothing else.

"…?"

Lying on the ground, Ethan blinked. Moraiotz looked just as baffled.

"…‘Lima’s Twilight’ didn’t work?"

It was strange that a demon—a race created to wield magic—would fail twice in a row.

But Ethan wasn’t about to waste this opportunity. In close combat, he had the advantage.

<He’ll just chase after you again.>

<…Right. His leg, then.>

Still lying on the ground, Ethan hooked Moraiotz’s right leg against his chest and used both legs to press against Moraiotz’s groin. Caught off guard by the unorthodox attack, the size difference, and Ethan’s magi-enhanced strength, Moraiotz collapsed. Ethan knew that this brief window was his opportunity.

He twisted Moraiotz’s right ankle outward.

The ligament tore.

Crunch!

The cartilage fractured.

Snap!

Moraiotz screamed.

"Aagh!"

Ethan considered his next move.

Moraiotz shouted, "→Rokari Ku Aksha!"

Ethan instinctively reinforced his waist with magi, launching himself backward just as crimson spikes erupted where he had been.

Blood.

Following the trail, Ethan saw Moraiotz had slit his own forearm, letting blood flow freely.

<Blood magic,> Demi noted.

Moraiotz tried to stand but faltered. Tears rolled down his pain-stricken face as he took deep breaths and swallowed hard.

Ethan pointed his sword at Moraiotz. "…That was a warning."

<Wouldn’t it have been better to just kill him?> Demi asked.

Ethan knew that in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, a heel hook could knock someone unconscious from pain alone. Yet Moraiotz had endured it.

Moraiotz sneered. “Ugh, fine. Don’t move, you husk."

Husk was a derogatory term demons used to refer to humans.

"Why shouldn’t I?"

"I don’t want to kill you."

"Why not?"

"Because I wasn’t able to bring a necromancer demon with me. And… sigh… if possible, I don’t want to hurt you either. Mental magic doesn’t work well when the body is too damaged. But as long as I can keep you restrained, I don’t care if you end up dead or injured."

<Well, of course.>

Moraiotz said, “At this distance, I can kill you instantly, and if you take a single step, that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

"Didn’t you just say you don’t want to kill me?"

"I’m not confident I can just graze you from this position. Blame yourself for twisting my ankle."

Ethan noticed Moraiotz’s subordinates rushing toward them, having finally caught on to the situation. He didn’t think Moraiotz was bluffing.

…There wasn’t much Ethan could do.

" ‘Even a single step,’ huh?" he asked.

"That’s right."

Ethan sheathed his sword at his waist. As long as he kept his feet planted, Moraiotz wouldn’t use magic. Ethan reached into his coat and wrapped his fingers around his Glock 45. Then, still hidden beneath his coat, he aimed it at Moraiotz.

As Ethan flicked open his coat, Moraiotz looked at him in confusion.

“What are you—”

Bang!

The spent shell casing clattered to the ground as Moraiotz’s upper body snapped backward. In the distance, the demons shouted something.

At this moment, a familiar voice called out, "…Ethan?"

As Ethan turned around, a familiar face came into view.

"Professor?"

Rivielton stood there, his expression grim.

<Damn.>

But Rivielton merely gestured at Ethan’s Glock 45. "Put that away before someone sees."

"Huh? Oh, right."

Rivielton walked ahead. "Let’s get out of here first."

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