The World of this Fantasy Novel is in Crisis

The master had dedicated his entire life to research, but died without ever seeing results. Laigeis vowed he would never end up like his master.

While alive, the master had studied magic that turned corpses into loyal servants. He firmly believed it would be far more useful on the battlefield than simply tossing around fire or wind.

The master had discovered the incantation for raising the dead. Laigeis silently recited the formula to himself.

“Star. Sea. Navy blue. ○○. Eighteen. One. Desert. Dream. ×××. Blur. Yesterday. Prayer. ○. Sun halo. Bread. Seven. Fingernail.”

A simple fire spell required just three words. But the master’s incantation contained a staggering seventeen.

The more complex and grand a spell was, the longer the formula became. Black magic, in particular, tended to be especially verbose. The master had said this was because the human psyche was vast. It had taken him an entire lifetime to uncover that single incantation.

Not that it was perfect. The reanimated corpse remained awake for only a brief time—no more than a minute or two.

Worse yet, it had no consciousness. It couldn’t even be propped up, let alone commanded. The master had been obsessed with finding a way to extend that time. Even when the Holy Knights stormed his hideout.

Laigeis took up his master’s research. But before long, he began to question it. Soldiers were prepared to die anyway. Wouldn’t it be simpler to cast the spell on the living instead?

Laigeis went out to find test subjects. It was common knowledge that one needed innate talent to become a mage. But very few knew what that “talent” actually was. Laigeis lured people in by claiming he could bestow magical talent upon them.

“Why is casting magic on the living so damn complicated?”

With fire magic, it didn’t matter what the target was thinking. You could just burn them.

But when dealing with magic that tampered with the mind, consent was required. Or more precisely—resonance. The stronger the target’s aversion to the caster, the higher the chance the spell would fail. Perhaps that’s why the master had chosen to use the dead.

“Still, the results weren’t half bad.”

The master’s formula didn’t work on the living. The test subjects immediately lost their minds and became idiots. But after making a few adjustments, the modified spell allowed them to speak and move. Naturally—they were alive to begin with.

What’s more, for a short while, the test subjects would obey Laigeis’s commands. They could even charge into death without a hint of fear.

“Their sense of self was the real problem.”

Those obedient test subjects eventually lost their reason. Laigeis speculated it was due to a clash between their own will and the commands they were given.

So he decided to try using children instead. He hoped that kids, with still-soft and malleable minds, might yield better results.

The experiments showed little difference. The children lasted a bit longer, but in the end, they still lost their minds. He had grown desensitized to disposing of the bodies.

Seeing his despair, Satin encouraged him.

[Master, it’ll go better next time. There are still other children, aren’t there? We’re bound to find one that works.]

At that moment, Laigeis was struck with inspiration. Satin was still a child too. Though his voice had changed and he’d shot up in height, he wasn’t quite a fully mature adult. The only real difference between him and the other kids was that Satin had magical aptitude.

Perhaps magic that targeted the mind didn’t rely solely on consciousness, but also on the subject’s physical nature. If the subject could naturally accept mana…

[Satin, would you obey any command I give you?]

[Master…?]

[Answer me.]

[Of course. I’m your student, after all…]

[Star. Wave. Blue. ○○. Eighteen. One. Desert. Dream. ×××. Faintness. Yesterday. Prayer. ○.]

[Ma… ster…?]

The moment the spell hit him, Satin lost consciousness on the spot. Unlike the previous test subjects, he didn’t wake up immediately.

Laigeis couldn’t tell if that was a good sign—or a bad one.

Instead of trying to rouse him, Laigeis moved Satin to the confessional chamber. If the boy woke up deranged and rampaged in front of the others, it would be a disaster. And if the result turned out to be fatal, Laigeis planned to say that Satin had stolen the research records and run away.

But the awakened Satin revealed an entirely unexpected result. Unexpected, but not unwelcome. Though he had lost his memories, he hadn’t lost his reason—and he had gained an ability Laigeis had never foreseen.

The ability to see mana. Not just a power that black mages would want—all mages would covet that.

“The formula definitely deviated somehow.”

Laigeis tried the same spell on Tim, but the results didn’t repeat. In fact, it was even worse than previous experiments. Tim immediately lost his mind. Laigeis had no choice but to dispose of him.

From that point on, Laigeis fell into deep contemplation.

Magic that turned humans into loyal servants, or magic that allowed mages to perceive mana— Which was the more valuable pursuit?

Laigeis’s decision was gradually tilting toward the latter.

The first was merely a line of research inherited from his esteemed master—it was not Laigeis’s true life’s work. The second, however, was wholly his own achievement. If he could just eliminate the side effects, it would become an extraordinary discovery.

“If I succeed with Cain, maybe I can even try it on myself.”

Satin didn’t seem to understand how incredible the ability he had gained really was. Not being a full-fledged mage, he had no idea how to even begin using it.

But Laigeis, unlike Satin, knew exactly how valuable it was.

“He could become a war hero.”

The reason mages were so highly valued on the battlefield was because they could slaughter many enemies alone. They were mobile, powerful, and could vanish with ease—soldiers like that were rare and revered. For the same reason, enemy mages were a major headache.

But what if you had the ability to see mana? You could detect the moment an enemy mage attempted to cast a spell, instantly locating them. It would be like neutralizing their most powerful weapon before it could even be used.

“Even as a black mage, every faction would fight to recruit him.”

Laigeis never regretted meeting his master and stepping onto the path of black magic, but every now and then, he did feel a pang of longing. After all, fame and power were desires shared by all.

As he aged, he found it harder to concentrate. His mind would drift off into these useless tangents more and more.

“I need a break.”

Checking the time, Laigeis tidied up his workspace. He gathered the scattered documents—many of which he hadn’t even touched—and stashed them away in a hidden compartment beneath the floor, covering it with a carpet.

As he exited the lab, he spotted a child loitering near the office door and frowned.

“What are you doing there?”

The child flinched and turned around. It was Rogers. A quiet, unobtrusive boy who rarely stood out—Laigeis wondered what brought him here.

“Did you need something from me?”

“I just… had a question, that’s all…”

Most of the children Laigeis had picked up off the streets were mild and unassuming. Still, there were always a few with ambition—like Maggie or Tim. They would often come to Laigeis asking trivial questions.

“Not because they wanted answers.”

Their intent was obvious: to prove how diligent and clever they were. Despite being barely twelve, they had grasped the harsh truth that unless they carved out their own path, nothing in their future would change.

Of course, realizing that truth didn’t mean they were mature. They hadn’t figured Laigeis out yet—and didn’t know they weren’t all that cunning.

Rogers was different from those kids. Laigeis’s impression was that he lacked strong opinions and seemed somewhat timid and uncertain.

“Come with me.”

Laigeis led Rogers into his office.

***

“Satin, what are you doing there?”

A group of sweaty kids, just back from playing outside, asked as they spotted Satin. It must’ve seemed odd—of all places, he was sitting halfway up the stairs.

Satin smiled softly and replied, “Just taking a break.”

“Why not in your room?”

“Cain got mad.”

“You still haven’t made up with Cain? You should give up already.”

Satin didn’t answer—just smiled. The kids snickered and scampered off to the kitchen, no doubt hoping to score some snacks from Rufus.

Satin glanced up toward the second floor. Still no sign of Cain or Rogers. It made sense that Rogers was taking his time on purpose, but he was starting to worry Cain might be running late.

“I mean, it’s definitely better than stealing…”

At first, they’d planned to steal whatever useful documents they could from the master’s lab. But Rogers had opposed the idea.

[They’ll notice right away. The supply wagon won’t be here for a few more days anyway.]

And he was right. Even if they managed to smuggle out the stolen documents, it would be pointless if they died before the Holy Knights arrived. Rogers had suggested an alternative.

[Let’s copy them. What matters is the content, after all.]

[Huh. Didn’t think a flying squirrel like you could say something useful.]

Cain had meant it as a kind of compliment, but Rogers hadn’t looked the least bit pleased.

Anyway, that’s how they settled on the plan. The three of them then searched for the tools they’d need to break into the lab. Most items were easy to find—except the wire.

When Satin had no idea where to get wire, Cain had just chuckled. He said he knew exactly where to find some.

“Didn’t expect him to pull it out of a clock, though.”

Having successfully broken in, Cain was now inside the master’s lab, diligently copying any information worth stealing.

Everything was going surprisingly smoothly, yet Satin couldn’t shake a sense of unease. He tried to pinpoint exactly what was bothering him—but nothing came to mind.

“Maybe I’m just anxious…”