WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

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A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 214: Mages Look Down on Swordsmen

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Mages usually look down on swordsmen.

When a mage first steps into the World of Spells, they awaken a new sense for the first time.

A new hand, something new, something beyond the sixth sense. Through it, they build a world of mental images and call it their inner world, or the World of Spells.

No key is needed to reach it, no door has to be opened, and no walking is required.

Because the World of Spells is inside them.

So they look at the sky and refine that world, look at flames and refine that world, look at glaciers and refine that world.

That is a mage's training and discipline.

People often call mages insane, or say mages are mad, partly because of how they refine that inner world.

In Imperial Year 48, one mage who built every part of his inner world out of flame burned down an entire city for a new world.

He wanted to use that all-consuming fire as a stepping stone into a new world.

It was the most horrific arson case in imperial history.

In that event, later named the Flood of Flames Incident, the number of dead alone exceeded a thousand.

The mage who caused the flood of flames did not aim for mass slaughter.

He had already burned people to death many times, and seeing people burn no longer gave him inspiration.

So he burned a city.

That was how the worst fire mage in history, the demon of flames, was born.

Many knights and mages died trying to kill him, but in the end, he died too.

If someone does anything for inquiry and inspiration, they become a mad mage. Even so, those with talent for spells do not hesitate to explore that world.

Magic has always been like that.

Craving inquiry, craving knowledge, pursuing truth and digging deeper. If the chance comes, they try to seize truth itself.

Those who went mad from the ecstasy of enlightenment, the world calls them mages.

Anyway, for reasons like that, it is only natural that they look down on swordsmen.

Mages can drift through worlds swordsmen cannot see.

A mage who can handle spells, especially one specialized in this kind of work, can kill several great swordsmen without much trouble.

So this was naturally an easy job.

"We do the job, collect everything owed, and leave."

There were many places on the continent that trained mages, but not many that took contracts.

Among them, the one most publicly known was Shadow Nest.

They belonged to Shadow Nest.

They hid themselves in black soot and layered their spells over the enemy tent.

They spread a thick sleeping scent on the wind and cast a perception-disruption spell over the whole tent.

The spell was called Dark-Coated Shroud, and this type was broadly called perception-disruption magic.

The one they used this time painted the whole tent black and pushed it outside people's perception.

Ordinary soldiers could not notice. At most, a few sharp ones might feel something was off.

The kind born with highly developed sixth senses.

"Isn't that spot a little strange?"

One of those happened to be there.

"Why?"

They were soldiers on patrol. Three of them. The one on the far right chewed his lip and spoke.

"Isn't that side kind of, uh, dark?"

Mute sound, erase presence. That was the Dark-Coated Shroud's effect.

To people with sharp senses, it only looked a little duller.

"It's night, of course it's dark."

That was exactly what they aimed for, enough to pass as normal nighttime darkness.

"No, I mean not just night, that spot, huh? Isn't it darker? It's more murky."

If suspicion flared and they came closer, they would kill those three and drag the bodies inside. That was all.

Killing intent filled the mages' eyes.

Smack!

The moment they made up their minds, the soldier on the far end smacked the sharp one on the back of the head.

"Fuck, if you say stuff like that, I won't sleep. Cut it out."

"You crazy bastard, you hit my head?"

"Hey, hey, stop it. We're on patrol."

The one in the middle broke it up, the other two kept bickering, and the three patrol soldiers moved farther away.

No problem.

There were five mages in total.

One handled the perception-disruption spell.

Another spread the sleeping scent.

A third used a spell called Abyssal Dream to make the people inside lose consciousness one more time.

It might have been excessive preparation, but they had already seen five insane soldiers fighting.

'If there's even one squire-level fighter in there, we have no choice.'

Separate from looking down on swordsmen, people who had awakened Will were a headache.

Will, or what some called willpower.

The qualification for a squire was awakening even a part of that Will.

Would there be someone there who could use willpower?

It was hard to tell just by watching.

Still, one had shown signs.

'The blond one.'

One guy had thrown off his helmet mid-fight like he was fed up.

Neat eyes, red irises, blond hair, and monstrous skill with a sword.

The leader had seen squire-level fighters many times. His mage instincts told him that one was the most dangerous.

"It's done."

A subordinate spoke from beside him.

The leader pulled open the tent flap and went in.

Even if someone was around squire level, they should not have been able to stay fully clear-headed.

That was how much preparation they had done.

Even if one was still fine, it would only be one person at most.

This would not even count as a risk.

That was what he thought as he opened the tent.

Inside the space hidden by the perception-disruption spell, where no one should have been, he saw two bright blue lights.

They looked like Evil Spirit Flames, wicked spirits made only of fire.

Of course, it was not a Demon Creature.

"...A panther?"

A black panther was breathing fire from its eyes.

The leader knew at once.

Those fire-filled eyes held spellcraft, mystery, or something on that level.

The soot coating both him and the mage beside him peeled away.

The two mages revealed themselves.

A panther blocked their way.

No one spoke. No sound rose. Heavy air filled the tent.

Then.

"Kiching!"

The panther sneezed.

'...A sneeze? Doesn't that clash with the situation? It kills the tension.'

That was what the leader thought.

* * *

Esther looked back on the past.

If she had to sum up the most important event in her life in one line, it was this.

'Fucking curse.'

The curse had twisted her life. Twisted it tight. It was damn miserable, but still, she was fine now. She had let go a little.

Breaking a curse was like undoing tangled thread.

When it had knotted over and over, untying it one strand at a time took time, but once it started loosening, the rest was only a matter of time.

Thanks to that loosened knot.

Now Esther could pull out and use parts of her world again.

"Grrr."

The panther bared its fangs.

"...A familiar?"

That meant a being controlled by a mage's spell.

Sometimes it was an animal, sometimes something spiritual.

It was a mistake, but an understandable one.

Esther ignored it and looked at the two who came in. No, mana swirled through her body, settled in her eyes, and let her see everything beyond them, every trick they were using.

'Five.'

Perception disruption, wind spell, and sleep spell.

They blocked vision, stole senses, and knocked people out with three spells, then came in?

They had not come for fun.

Enkrid seemed deeply asleep under the duet of sleeping scent and magic.

Or maybe he had already been exhausted to begin with.

Esther assumed the others had fallen asleep too.

Then was she the only one left to stop them?

"Kill it," the male mage said.

Right after that, Esther felt the World of Spells move.

It had been a very long time since she had seen a properly formed spell, even one that was only a decent imitation.

A blade of wind appeared right above her head and dropped straight down. It was a guillotine made purely of mystery, an execution blade, death made of wind.

Piiiiing.

Esther kicked off the ground. One sharp side step was enough.

The wind blade cut the air, slammed into the ground with a thud, and vanished.

Curses were truly cruel. In this body, she could not cast proper spells.

If she did, there would always be backlash.

Then another mage started waving his hand and muttering.

A chant and hand gestures.

The words were babbled and hard to understand. If the opponent understood and prepared, it would be a problem, so he had likely rebuilt his spell runes for personal use.

The gestures guided mana alongside the chant.

Esther saw all of it at a glance.

How was the level of the opponent's spellwork?

'Pathetic.'

A shadow stretched from beneath the male mage's feet and shot out to seize the panther at terrifying speed.

Esther struck the ground with one forepaw. The change began at the same moment.

It was not some inner metaphor.

It was a physical change in outer form itself.

The threads were unraveling, and more than half of that was thanks to the strange power lingering around Enkrid.

Which meant she no longer needed to endure backlash in the panther's body.

That also meant she could return to her original form for a short while.

The spell rushing in was for restraint.

"Surrender to my scent."

The transformed Esther reached out and spoke. Not a paw, a hand.

Claws slid back in, revealing pure white skin. It almost seemed to shine. The binding shadow that approached turned into a black robe and wrapped around Esther's whole body.

Panther fur disappeared, turned white, and the frame grew larger. It naturally took human form in no time.

And thanks to the opponent's own magic, she did not have to stand there naked.

A black robe draped over pale skin.

A short, heavy, icy silence crushed the tent. The two enemy mages especially widened their eyes and tensed through their shoulders.

The woman who had turned from panther to human opened her mouth again.

"...It's really been a long time."

Esther, human again, was overwhelmed. The curse had lasted so long, and she still had not fully broken it. This was only a brief outing, but even that mattered.

She had almost spent her life locked away forever, but now she could step outside for a little while.

The air outside the prison was fresh, clear, and clean.

Enemy spells were mixed into it, but even that did not bother her.

Long black hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back.

Her fingers stretched out, nails sharp.

"Hi?"

A black-haired beauty greeted them, and the leader and the two mages were too shocked to speak at first.

The panther turned into a person?

What is this? This is terrifying.

"So not a familiar?" the mage beside the leader said.

"...Get a grip!" the leader shouted.

He was flustered and shaken. She had absorbed his subordinate's spell, recombined it, made clothes out of it, and wore it.

Did that even make sense? No, it did not. Was this some strange illusion technique? Illusion magic?

Between the folds of the robe she created, he caught a glimpse of pale breasts.

There was no room to feel anything sexual.

The leader swallowed.

The opponent was a mage. A high-tier one, for sure.

"Then let's begin."

Esther was deeply happy. How long had it been since she could cast proper spells and draw on part of her world?

That joy took shape at her fingertips.

"Dmueller's Scythe."

The spell activated, and a black scythe rose into the air. Similar to a wind blade, but one tier higher, an advanced attack spell.

"Companion of life, draped darker than pitch-black night!"

The leader shouted in haste. A defensive spell carved into his body activated.

Esther's eyes gleamed. While she had been trapped in curse, it seemed a new type of spell had appeared.

It was a type she had never seen. A kind of defensive spell, but it did not borrow power from another world.

Still, judging by casting speed alone, it was very fast.

She tracked the mana flow with her senses. Where was the source? The skin under his robe.

'Mana-engraved tattoo?'

It was a method of shaping a magic circle through chant.

To put it simply, he had carved mana tattoos into his body.

'Useful enough, I guess.'

Efficient, but high-level magic would not activate that way anyway.

So it had limits.

Krrrrack!

The black scythe in midair collided with the Veil. The Veil tore and shattered, and part of the scythe shattered too.

Black fragments scattered like glass and fell to the floor.

Esther snapped her fingers at the air.

Snap!

At the finger snap, the scythe vanished.

"Huff, huff."

The leader gasped for breath. One exchange had told him enough. He was outmatched.

"Call everyone in!"

The leader shouted. He had four subordinates left. It was time for all five to combine forces.

Esther was, simply put, a mage who knew how to fight.

Before the curse, she had faced mages many times.

As for spell warfare, she had done it enough to be sick of it.

"Born from sparks, become inferno, and embrace all."

She did not stop chanting.

There was some pleasure in this too, enjoying being human again after so long.

Part of her World of Spells opened, and flames burst out.

A moment later they surged up from beneath the enemies' feet.

"Block it!"

The group of mages that rushed in started waving their hands in panic. A defensive Veil formed, but.

"Wrong. Bad answer."

Esther twisted her red lips as she spoke.

At the same time, maybe because of the time she had spent as a panther, she kicked off the ground and left afterimages as she closed in on one mage.

Spell, Burning Hand.

Her palm glowed red. She grabbed one mage by the neck.

"Kyaaaaaaah!"

His flesh melted until neck bone showed. The scream cut off quickly. His vocal cords and neck bones were burning, so he could not scream anymore.

Grrk, ssssh.

Only sickening sounds leaked from his throat.

"Next."

Esther bared her fangs and smiled. Her red lips stood out.

"Fucking hell!"

The leader felt the gap in level. It did not feel like survival was possible.

A pressure he had never felt even against his own master crushed him.

His will broke before it truly began. He did not even dare run.

Esther seized two more with Burning Hand.

The gap in physical ability was obvious too.

Then she beheaded the leader and the last one with Dmueller's Scythe.

She did not need grand spells.

Right now, she could not even cast truly deep-level spells anyway.

Still, this was enough.

Severed heads, chopped apart, shot up into the air.

"I knew it was my beauty."

Rem's voice rang through the tent, where he had been pretending to sleep. He lay on his side lazily, chin propped on his fist.

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