Chapter 214
Magicians usually look down on swordsmen.
A Magician who set foot into the world of spells would awaken a new sense for the first time.
A new hand, something new, something beyond the sixth sense—they would build their own inner world through it, calling it the inner world or the world of spells.
To reach it, there was no need for a key, no need to open a door, nor even to walk.
The world of spells existed within themselves.
Thus, they polished their world by looking at the sky, polished their world by gazing at the flames, polished their world by staring at the glaciers.
That was the training and tempering of a Magician.
The reason why people often said Magicians were insane or possessed by madness was also because of the methods they used to hone that inner world.
In Imperial Year 48, a Magician who had built and crafted everything in his inner world from flames burned down an entire city for the sake of a new world.
Using the flames that consumed everything as a foothold, he sought to advance to a new world.
It was the most horrifying arson incident in the history of the Empire.
More than a thousand people died in what came to be known as the “Great Flood of Flames.”
The Magician’s goal in causing the flood of flames was not mass slaughter.
Having burned people to death multiple times before, he had found no new inspiration even after watching them perish in flames.
So, he burned the city.
The worst fire mage in history, the Demon of Flames, was born this way.
Many knights and Magicians lost their lives trying to kill him, but he eventually died.
Those who would do anything for exploration and inspiration became mad Magicians, yet even so, those talented in spells had no hesitation in exploring that world.
Such was the nature of magic.
An insatiable thirst for exploration and knowledge, a relentless pursuit of truth. If the opportunity arose, they would seize it.
Those who lost their minds from the euphoria of awakening knowledge were what the world called Magicians.
For all these reasons, it was natural that they looked down on swordsmen.
After all, they could roam a world invisible to others.
A Magician who could handle spells, especially one specialized in this area, could easily kill even a few skilled swordsmen.
Thus, this was naturally a simple task.
“I’ll finish the job, get paid, and return.”
There were many places across the continent that trained Magicians, but few that accepted requests.
Among them, the most well-known was the “Shadow Nest.”
They belonged to the Shadow Nest.
They cloaked themselves in black soot, overlaying spells on the enemy’s tents.
They spread a thick sleeping incense with the wind and cast an illusion spell over the entire tent.
The spell was called “Thickened Cover,” and spells of this kind were generally referred to as illusion spells.
This particular spell blackened the entire tent and pushed it outside people’s perception.
Ordinary soldiers wouldn’t notice, and only those with particularly sharp instincts might sense something amiss.
Those naturally gifted with heightened senses from birth.
“Doesn’t that area seem a little strange?”
Sure enough, one appeared.
“Why?”
They were patrolling soldiers. Three of them. The one standing at the far right mumbled as he chewed his lip.
“Doesn’t that area look… kind of dark?”
The spell silenced sounds and erased their presence. That was the effect of Thickened Cover.
For those with sharp senses, it would seem slightly gloomier.
“It’s dark because it’s night.”
That was the intended deception—to make them think it was just nightfall.
“No, I mean besides that, it’s, you know? It’s darker. Like… gloomier.”
If suspicion arose and they approached, they would simply kill the three and hide the bodies.
Murderous intent flickered in the Magicians’ eyes.
Whack!
Just as the thought formed, the soldier at the end struck the sensitive one on the back of the head.
“You bastard, I can’t sleep if you say shit like that. Knock it off.”
“You crazy fuck, you hit me?”
“Hey, hey, cut it out. We’re on patrol.”
The middle soldier intervened to stop them, and the trio eventually walked away, arguing.
No problem.
There were five Magicians deployed.
One managed the illusion spell.
Another spread the sleeping incense.
Another cast a spell called “Dream of the Abyss,” further causing those inside to lose consciousness.
It might seem excessive for preparation, but they had already witnessed five lunatic soldiers fighting earlier.
‘If by chance there’s a Junior Knight around, there’s no helping it.’
Even though they looked down on swordsmen, those who had awakened [Will] were troublesome.
[Will], or what was called strength of will.
To qualify as a Junior Knight was to awaken even a fraction of [Will].
Was there someone capable of handling [Will] here?
It wasn’t easy to tell just by watching.
Still, there was one who gave off a slight hint.
‘The blonde one.’
There had been a guy who, frustrated during the fight, had ripped off his helmet.
Neat eyes, red irises, blonde hair, and monstrous swordsmanship.
The leader, having seen many Junior Knight-level fighters before, trusted his instincts. That one was the most dangerous.
“It’s done.”
A subordinate reported.
The leader pushed aside the tent flap and entered.
Even if someone inside had Junior Knight-level strength, they shouldn’t have been able to stay fully conscious.
They had prepared accordingly.
At most, only one might be functional.
This didn’t even qualify as a real risk.
Thus, they opened the inner tent.
Inside the tent, thanks to the illusion spell, it looked like an empty space—except for two cold, blue lights.
They looked like flames belonging to a spirit made entirely of fire—a [Fire Spirit].
Of course, it wasn’t a monster.
“…A leopard?”
A black panther was shooting flames from its eyes.
The leader immediately understood.
Those flame-filled eyes were mingled with spells, mysteries, or something equivalent.
The two Magicians who entered alongside the leader shed the soot cloaking their bodies.
They revealed themselves.
Blocking their way stood the panther.
There were no words. No sound. Only heavy tension filled the tent.
And then—
“Achoo!”
The panther sneezed.
‘…A sneeze? Doesn’t that kind of ruin the atmosphere? It kills the tension.’
The leader thought.
—
Esther reflected on the past.
In short, she could sum up the most important event of her life in one word.
‘Damn, the curse.’
Her life had been twisted because of the curse. Thoroughly tangled up. It was damn miserable, but even so, it was fine. She had let go of it now.
Lifting the curse was like untangling a ball of yarn.
It took time to unravel knot after knot, but once it started coming undone, the rest was just a matter of time.
Thanks to that loosened yarn, Esther could now draw out and use parts of her world once again.
“Growl.”
The panther bared its fangs.
“…A familiar?”
A being summoned and controlled by magic.
Sometimes it was an animal, sometimes something spiritual.
It was a mistake to think so, but understandable.
Esther looked at the two who had entered without hesitation. No, she saw beyond them—her magic swirling inside her and gathering in her eyes let her see through all their tricks.
‘Five.’
Illusion spells, wind spells, sleep spells.
They had blinded senses, dulled awareness, and made their enemies lose consciousness with three types of spells before entering?
They weren’t here for a casual visit.
Encrid seemed completely knocked out, drowned in the blend of sleeping incense and magic.
Or maybe he had been tired to begin with.
Esther figured the others must have fallen asleep too.
That meant she was the only one left to stop them.
“Kill it.”
The male Magician ordered. Esther immediately felt the movement of the spell world.
It had been so long since she had seen a spell even attempting a proper form.
Right above her head, a blade of wind appeared and dropped vertically. A guillotine made entirely of mystery, a blade of execution, death wrought from wind.
Whoosh.
Esther kicked off the ground. A simple sideways leap sufficed.
The blade of wind sliced through the air, struck the ground with a thud, then vanished.
The curse was truly dreadful—she couldn’t properly use magic with this body.
If she did, a backlash was inevitable.
Another Magician waved his hand and began muttering something.
Chanting and gestures.
The muttered words were incomprehensible babble—probably newly crafted rune language, to prevent opponents from preparing defenses.
The gestures were guiding the magic along with the chanting.
Esther understood it all at a glance.
As for the level of the spell he was casting—
‘Pathetic.’
A shadow stretched from the male Magician’s feet, trying to seize the panther at frightening speed.
Esther slammed her forepaw against the ground. At the very moment of impact, a transformation began.
It wasn’t something internal.
It was a physical, external change.
The yarn was unraveling, largely thanks to the strange power lingering from Encrid.
Meaning, she no longer had to bear the backlash with her panther form.
Which meant—briefly—she could return to her original self.
The spell racing toward her was meant for restraint.
“Be intoxicated by my scent.”
The transformed Esther reached out a hand as she spoke. Not a paw—a hand.
Her claws retracted, revealing pure white skin. It even seemed to glow faintly. Then, the restraining shadow spell enveloping her morphed into a black robe that wrapped around her body.
As the panther fur vanished, her body turned pale, growing larger. Naturally, she took on a human form.
Thanks to the enemy’s magic, she didn’t end up naked.
A black robe now draped her pale skin.
A short, heavy, cold silence crushed the inside of the tent. The two enemy Magicians’ eyes widened, tension coiling in their shoulders.
The woman who had transformed from a panther opened her mouth again.
“…It’s been so long.”
Back in human form, Esther was overwhelmed with emotion. The curse had been so long, so heavy—even if she couldn’t be free forever and this was only a brief reprieve, it was enough.
She had almost spent a lifetime imprisoned, but now she could at least step outside for a while.
The air outside the prison was fresh, pure, and clean.
Even though enemy spells drifted faintly within it, even that didn’t bother her.
Long black hair flowed over her shoulders, cascading down her back.
Her extended fingertips were sharply pointed.
“Hello?”
The beautiful woman with black hair greeted them, and the leader and two Magicians couldn’t respond immediately.
A panther turning into a person?
What the hell is this? Terrifying.
“Not a familiar, huh?”
One of the Magicians next to the leader muttered.
“…Get a grip!”
The leader raised his voice. He was flustered and shaken. She had embraced his subordinate’s spell, reassembled it, and used it to clothe herself?
How could that make sense? No, it couldn’t. Was it some bizarre illusion magic?
He glimpsed the swell of pale breasts through the gaps of the robe.
No time to feel anything lustful.
The leader swallowed hard.
She was a Magician. Clearly a high-ranking one.
“Then, let’s begin.”
Esther was ecstatic. How long had it been since she could properly cast spells and wield parts of her own world?
Her joy materialized at her fingertips.
“[Dumuller’s Scythe.]”
As she cast the spell, a black scythe floated into the air. It resembled a blade of wind, but it was an advanced attack spell, a tier above.
“Companion of life, darker than the blackest night!”
The leader quickly shouted. A defensive spell inscribed on his body activated.
Esther’s eyes gleamed. It seemed that while she was trapped under the curse, new types of spells had emerged.
This was a type she hadn’t seen before. A kind of defensive spell—but not one drawing from an alien force.
Judging by the deployment speed, it was extremely fast.
She traced the flow of magic with her senses. Where was the source? From the skin under his robe.
‘A tattoo etched with magic?’
It was a method of using an engraved magic circle and activating it through chanting.
In simpler terms, they had tattooed magic circles onto their bodies.
‘Useful, but…’
Efficient, yes, but high-level magic couldn’t be activated like that.
It wouldn’t be of much use.
Crack!
The black scythe collided with the protective barrier in the air. The barrier tore and shattered, and part of the scythe broke apart as well.
Fragments of black, like shards of glass, scattered across the floor.
Esther snapped her fingers in the air.
Snap!
At the snap of her fingers, the scythe vanished.
“Gasp, gasp.”
The leader panted heavily. Just one clash had told him—this was an opponent he couldn’t handle.
“Call everyone in!”
The leader shouted. He had four subordinates. It was time for all five to join forces.
Esther was, after all, a Magician who knew how to fight.
Before the curse, she had faced countless Magicians.
When it came to spell battles, she had experienced them to the point of disgust.
“Starting as a spark, I shall embrace you as a blaze.”
She didn’t stop chanting.
There was some enjoyment, too, in finally returning to human form after so long.
A part of her spell world opened, and flames burst forth. They erupted from beneath the enemies’ feet.
“Block it!”
The incoming Magicians hastily waved their hands. Soon, a defensive barrier was formed.
“Ding. Wrong answer.”
Esther curled her red lips into a smirk.
At the same time—perhaps thanks to her time as a panther—
She kicked off the ground, leaving behind a blur, and closed in on one of the Magicians.
[Flaming Hand].
Her palm glowed red. She grabbed the Magician’s neck without hesitation.
“Aaaaaagh!”
The skin melted down to the point that the neck bones were exposed. The scream was soon cut off. With the vocal cords and neck bones burned away, he could no longer scream.
Grrrk, sizzle—
Only sickening noises leaked out from his throat.
“Next.”
Esther bared her fangs in a grin, her red lips vivid against her white skin.
“You bastard!”
The leader felt the overwhelming difference in strength. Survival seemed impossible.
He had never even felt such pressure when facing his own master.
His morale broke before the fight had truly begun. He didn’t even dare think of running.
With her [Flaming Hand], Esther grabbed two more.
The difference in physical ability was also obvious.
Then, using [Dumuller’s Scythe], she beheaded the leader and the last one.
There was no need for any grand spell. Besides, she couldn’t even use truly deep magic right now.
But this was more than enough.
Heads severed cleanly rose into the air.
“You thought I was asleep, didn’t you?”
Rem’s voice echoed lazily through the tent. He was lying on his side, resting his chin on his fist.
(T/N: Uh-oh, our panther has been busted!)
