WeTried Translations

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Hydrogen B

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 239: How to Become a Black Magician, Until You Turn Thirty...

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The regressor studied Siati closely and spoke.

"Black magic."

Her assessment was correct.

Siati synchronized the cannon barrel with one of her fingers. Then she bent the finger. The barrel bent with it.

It resembled a voodoo doll curse, but it was different.

A voodoo doll synchronizes with a target's body through a doll made with an offering to harm them. Siati, on the other hand, had offered up her own body to destroy an enemy's weapon or equipment.

There was one fatal drawback. She could only use it once per finger, for a total of ten times...

Good grief. I'd just realized something. Siati only had one arm, so she could only use it five times!

Even black magic discriminated against people with disabilities. That was completely unfair!

'I'd heard some of the Resistance had learned black magic... but seeing this makes me suspicious again. It's a pointless suspicion, though.'

The regressor gave me a doubtful look.

"Hey, looks like your friend learned black magic. Did you teach her?"

"Where did that come from? Why would I teach her? She learned it on her own."

"Where?"

"I don't know where exactly. But it's not that strange, is it?"

I kept driving calmly and muttered,

"Most of the magic used by the military state is that kind of thing."

"...That's true."

It was fortunate I didn't need to explain. The regressor had experienced all sorts of things, so she readily accepted my words.

The white horse carrying Siati and the Princess returned proudly, like a triumphant general.

Unlike the Princess, who couldn't smile because she was worried about her friend's injury, Siati was beaming. The joy of bending the enemy's cannon barrel seemed several times greater than the pain of her broken finger. What was wrong with the scales in her heart?

Well, her scales were broken, which was probably why she could use black magic in the first place and why she used it.

Historia, who had been tied up quietly, didn't look pleased. The moment the white horse returned, she leaped out of the cargo bed and strode across the motor carriage.

These people walked around a carriage racing at full speed as if it were solid ground. Especially you, Historia. People tied up with rope aren't supposed to walk around like that. The ropes would be sad.

In any case, Historia frowned as she stared at Siati's left glove and the little finger that had surely swollen grotesquely inside it.

"Siati. Your finger."

"Ah, you noticed!"

Siati held out her gloved left hand and answered proudly, her face lit up with a smile.

"What do you think, Historia? I'm useful now too, aren't I? I'm not who I used to be. Even with this wrecked body, if I use it like this, I can hurt the enemy, even a little. I'm not helpless like I was back then."

"It's black magic. Stop. It'll hurt you."

At Historia's reasonable advice, Siati's smile vanished. She tilted her head.

"Can you really say that? You're one of the military state's Six Generals."

"...Whether I'm one of the Six Generals doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters. The military state isn't in any position to condemn black magic, is it? The standardized magic it teaches is a kind of black magic too."

Historia pressed her lips together. Siati narrowed her eyes.

"Don't tell me you're going to say you didn't know, Historia."

The school of magic created by the War Mage, standardized magic.

There was one question, though. Before the military state came into being, the War Mage had been such a clumsy mage that she couldn't even manage her own magic.

How had someone like that devised standardized magic?

Siati gave the explanation.

"Using standardized magic makes your body pay the price. Use flame magic, and you burn. Use water magic, and you freeze or swell up. Even light magic leaves your skin scorched black. To prevent that, you either have to use magic so weak that you can endure the cost... or pass that cost onto an offering valuable enough to bear it."

The War Mage had studied every kind of knowledge to overcome her limits and found the answer in black magic. More precisely, she combined her own magic with black magic's methods of making another pay magic's price.

That process produced standardized magic.

Making the extraordinary ordinary. One of the Seven Great Inventions that laid the foundation of this country.

"Using your body as the price of magic. The standardized magic created by the military state... It's sacrificial ritual magic for those without talent, using their own bodies as sacrificial offerings. Its power and cost were drastically reduced, but it still allowed ordinary people to perform miracles that should have been impossible, in exchange for damage to their bodies. It's a form of black magic."

'It also made this black magic easier to learn. Heh, the military state did give me something, at least.'

Magic was the manifestation of one's own world. There was no concept of paying a price for the act of overlaying that world onto reality. Mana was consumed when it first spread into the world, but once it was established, it maintained itself.

Standardized magic, which demanded a price every time it was used, was similar to black magic when you thought about it.

And that wasn't all. Why do you think the beans produced in the southern rainforest were called chimera beans? The military state was a nation built upon taboos.

Historia weakly defended standardized magic.

"...It's different. Unlike standardized magic, black magic only hurts both you and your target. It requires powerful resentment and hatred, so it corrodes the user's mind."

"Haha! Historia, are you worried about me? One of the Six Generals, worried about a lowly Resistance soldier like me? Then what do you want me to do? Should you go break the cannons instead?"

Siati had meant it as sarcasm, but Historia promptly nodded. Even Siati was left speechless for a moment.

"One of the Six Generals, destroying the military state's weapons? Are you kidding?"

"...No one will know if I'm not wearing my uniform. Not many people have seen my face up close."

"Well, looking at you, they'd probably think you're some pervert who likes getting tied up and causing trouble. That's ridiculous..."

Siati was about to refuse outright when the Princess, who had been listening to them, hesitated. Then she squeezed her eyes shut and spoke.

"Um, Siati! Next time, I'll go with her! You can rest in the back!"

'I don't care if it's black magic or whatever, but if she keeps breaking her fingers every time, they'll be scarred...! If there's a way that doesn't hurt her, we should use that!'

Historia's words had persuaded the Princess. Betrayed by the Princess she trusted, Siati stared at her in shock and demanded,

"Princess? She's one of the Six Generals. A military state executive. She's a monster who could subdue you with her big toe and stroll into enemy territory even while tied up like that. What are you trusting?"

"Trust must be repaid with trust! I trust her character!"

"I told you, unlike you, she has no interest in the weak. Why not trust the military state while you're at it? No. I can't leave you with the enemy."

Siati refused stubbornly, but the Princess was just as stubborn. She bent forward as if listening to the white horse.

"What? Selphi, what did you say? You don't want to carry Siati on your back anymore?"

The clever white horse understood her master's intentions and answered with a loud neigh.

The Princess hummed and nodded before calling to Siati.

"Selphi says it doesn't want to carry you anymore, Siati! Right, Selphi?"

Neigh!

The loyal horse understood her beautiful master's intentions perfectly. Siati was dumbfounded by the third-rate play put on by horse and rider.

"Wait. Princess..."

"Ah, I can't hear you! Anyway, next up is Gunslinger Historia! You'll go, right?"

Historia nodded firmly.

Did the ability to avoid hostility make stubbornness work too? Siati could do nothing against the stubborn Princess. It was decided that Historia would go next.

"There's an ambush on the other side of that hill!"

The regressor, who had gone ahead to scout, found an ambush unit. It was an even larger force than before, with more cannons aimed down at our motor carriage from high ground.

Given the alarming scale, having the regressor step in was an option, but she was the versatile final line of defense, capable of responding to any attack. It was better to use a separate unit than send her.

It was absolutely not because I was in danger. Obviously.

After some bickering, Historia and the Princess set out. The Princess glanced sideways at Historia, who sat behind her with her legs together, and gave an uncertain smile.

'Ah, ahh. Well, she genuinely seemed worried about Siati's condition. She won't hurt me...! Come on, Yerien! Don't worry for no reason! Trust must be repaid with trust!'

Having steeled herself, the Princess gave Historia a timid greeting.

"Ah, haha. P-please take care of me, Major General...?"

"...Just take me to the front."

"Yes! Of course! But, um, won't it be dangerous while you're tied up? Selphi is gentle and well-behaved, but when it runs at full speed..."

"Even tied up, I can stand on two feet, so don't worry."

"What if you get jostled while going uphill..."

"You worry too much. Leader of the Resistance. For someone who worries so much, you've watched Siati break her fingers every time."

The Princess jumped as though she'd been whipped where it hurt.

"S-sorry! I'll go quickly!"

The Princess spurred the horse on. The white horse reached top speed in an instant.

Selphi was faster than the motor carriage. Granted, our motor carriage was the only thing I had to compare her with, but, exaggerating a little, she seemed faster than twilight settling over the earth. Before we even entered the cannons' line of fire, the white horse had reached the enemy unit.

"Gunslinger? How much farther should I go?"

"Far enough."

As they drew close, Historia, who had been sitting with her legs together, slid off the horse and dropped to the ground. She looked extremely unstable as she landed at full speed with both arms bound.

Crunch.

Historia planted both feet firmly into the earth, then burst forward with the speed she'd carried from the horse. It was enough to make even Selphi, who had brought her there, flinch.

"W-what, what is that?!"

"A tied-up woman is attacking us...!"

"Wasn't she a prisoner? Stop her!"

But tied up or not, she was one of the Six Generals. Historia stomped the ground hard and sprinted forward, stretching out her long legs. She leaped over a tall boulder in a single bound and ran straight for the cannons.

Someone in an officer's uniform thrust out a sword. It was a move meant to stop her approach rather than attack. Historia lightly kicked the hilt with her toes, then twisted through the air and brushed her heel against his chin.

That was all. The officer's eyes went unfocused, and the officer collapsed. Historia had run far ahead before the officer's head even hit the ground.

"S-stop her!"

She reached the cannon in an instant, spun around, and kicked it. Something rather predictable happened. A tremendous crash rang out as the cannon barrel snapped sideways and dangled limply.

I watched the scene calmly and said,

"Which is more normal, breaking a cannon barrel with black magic or breaking one with a kick?"

"It's more normal for the driver to look ahead! Stop watching and turn the wheel!"

The regressor's answer was so normal that it was no fun.

Historia continued to disable the defenders as little as possible while selecting only cannons to destroy. She broke cannons using nothing but her feet, without even lifting a finger. The panicked soldiers turned their barrels toward her, but they couldn't keep up with her speed.

Perhaps because her goal was so obvious, soldiers gathered to protect the final cannon. A gaunt man in an officer's uniform stepped in front of Historia.

"That's far enough!"

Historia hesitated briefly when he blocked her path with his body. The officer pointed a broad scimitar at her.

"Impressive skill...! Judging from your appearance alone, you seem to be about the same age as the Gunslinger, one of the military state's Six Generals!"

That was the strongest attack Historia had received all day.

As Historia stumbled after taking a wrong step, the officer saw it and shouted triumphantly.

"But you're no match for her! Compared to the once-in-a-generation genius Major General Historia, your talent is shallow! The military state is not to be underestimated! Major Jirant of the military state will show you that you can't win with both arms tied!"

Major Jirant stepped forward boldly.

He had no chance.

Historia personally showed him that one of the Six Generals could beat him even with both arms tied. The fight ended when she knocked away his military saber with the top of her foot, then kicked him in the abdomen with that same foot. It was such a futile result that I almost felt sorry for him.

"Damn it. I couldn't protect it... Forgive me..."

The officer fainted after those final words. The soldiers, their morale broken, clenched their teeth as they tended to their officer.

"The Major was defeated!"

"You pervert...! Are you showing off that you can beat us even tied up?!"

"Are you looking down on us...? What terrible taste...!"

"Damn it! If only we had one of the Six Generals!"

Historia seemed to have a lot she wanted to say, but she couldn't. She swallowed her words, lowered her head in case anyone recognized her, then ran over and vented her frustration by kicking the cannon.

The frustration of one of the Six Generals was terrifying. The cannon the officer had guarded so dearly was not merely crushed. Its barrel was torn clean off.

The soldiers lost all will to resist before that overwhelming sight.

"...Hey, doesn't she kind of look like the Major General? I think I saw her from far away once."

"What kind of baseless bullshit is that? The Major General isn't a pervert. She'd never attack us while tied up!"

"Right?"

Then Historia lost all will to attack. Leaving the terrified soldiers alone, she fled at once. Not from the enemy, but from embarrassment and panic.

Now, a legend would spread through the military state about a mysterious female master who attacked them while tied up in nothing but a shirt.

This was getting kind of fun.

Footnotes:

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