WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

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◈ The Inept Mage’s Infinite Regression

Chapter 34

After passing Summoning, Ethan proceeded to clear Lifting and Discharge, bringing his total points in Basic Magic Exercises to four.

He lay on his dorm bed, mulling over his next move.

‘The only other test I might be able to manage is Destruction, right?’

Despite Boen calling it “dumb,” Ethan thought the DJI Gespenst V was useful. It was somewhat like having a bird familiar, except it could record “video,” and its functions could be modified by various attachments. But there didn’t seem to be any other Basic Magic Exercises he could pass using the Gespenst V. Its 14 kg payload was nowhere near enough to hold Ethan’s weight for Levitation, and the drone’s imagery wouldn’t quite count as an Illusion—plus, showing it so openly would risk exposing him as a dark mage.

‘I’m still short one point.’

The moment he had that thought, a new window appeared before him:

[Broker Quest activated!]

[Broker Quest: In the Great Library Labyrinth, find n copies of Ancarucia of the Unreachable End (D)!]

Ethan frowned.

“What is this useless stuff?”

Almost as though it had heard his complaint, Zir chimed in to clarify, <It’s a delivery request. For every copy of the book titled Ancarucia of the Unreachable End you locate, you will receive a reward.>

<Yes.>

That changed things. Even if it was just D-rank Lottery Coupons, dozens of them would be a massive help.

<You don’t have much time before the end of Basic Magic Exercises,> Demi cautioned him. <Going deep into the Great Library Labyrinth might not be feasible.>

<True.>

Luckily, there didn’t appear to be a deadline on this Broker Quest. Each quest—or rather, each client—had different conditions and limits; in this case, the client would be satisfied once a certain number of books were retrieved.

“…That feels like more information than I needed.”

Deciding he would tackle that missing point, either through the Broker Quest later or by some other means, Ethan refocused on his immediate concern, passing the Destruction test in Basic Magic Exercises, and on the only person who could help him with that, Rivielton Fabier.

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After hearing Ethan out, Rivielton nodded. “I figured you’d come to that conclusion,” Rivielton said. “And your reasoning is correct. Using the Hunting Sword to pass the Destruction test is definitely possible. I’d recommend it.”

To pass Destruction, Ethan needed to learn the “Tusk Breaker” technique—one of the nine stances of the Hunting Sword, one that emphasized overwhelming destructive power. So far, he had only become proficient in the basic forms. He hadn’t yet received formal instruction in the advanced techniques meant for taking down giant beasts, so he had to ask Rivielton to rearrange the order of his lessons.

“But there’s a catch,” Rivielton warned. “I didn’t create the Hunting Sword method. It comes from Ruure’s hunters, passed down through countless generations, parent to child, strong to weak, old to new. There’s no guarantee you’ll be able to learn it while skipping steps.”

Ethan accepted the logic but had ready-made counterarguments. It turned out, though, that he didn’t need them.

“But,” Rivielton immediately continued, “I’m not a Ruure hunter, and you aren’t planning to become one. You aren’t training for a life-or-death hunt that demands perfect form. Even if your form isn’t fully refined, you might still pass the test.” Rivielton drew his sword. “But there’s a minimum requirement. I have a responsibility to teach Ruure’s Hunting Sword properly.”

“…Huh?”

“Draw your blade, Ethan. I want to see if you meet those minimum requirements.”

Caught off guard, Ethan unsheathed his sword. He had already witnessed Rivielton fight in earnest. He knew how fast the man could move, so he understood that the lunging bear-like figure with a live blade wasn’t trying to kill him. He understood that this was a spar. Even still, the sheer presence of that hulking body charging forward struck like a bolt of terror.

“…I’ll die!”

In the end, what saved Ethan was the basic stance of the Hunting Sword, drilled into him through thousands of clashes with demons.

What do you do when the enemy swings with full force? If you back away, your belly gets sliced. If you try to block head-on, your skull gets split. There’s only one answer: You press forward. If the enemy’s weapon hits closer to the hilt than the tip, the impact is dramatically reduced. Of course, that alone isn’t enough.

“Lock blades…”

Clashing sword against sword is always riskier for the defender. Once you choose to meet your opponent’s blade, you must grip your weapon close and take advantage of the few seconds where the cross-guard holds, aligning your blade’s spine against theirs.

“…and transition to offense.”

The moment the opponent makes a big swing, it’s easy to think you now have an opening, but if you focus only on defending, the enemy’s unrelenting blows will overwhelm you. Giving your opponent another chance is suicidal. You have to turn their attack into your opportunity and fight head-on.

“The weak point is the wrist.”

Now, Ethan finally understood Rivielton’s saying that “all fighting is like wrestling.” It was about targeting the center of the enemy’s force with a stronger force of your own, exploiting the foe’s gap to your advantage. It was about the entangled, nigh-impossible motions that unfolded between fighters. It was about the thrill of gradually deciphering the essence of combat.

Right before Ethan could strike, Rivielton shifted his footwork by a single step and reclaimed the advantage. Astonished, Ethan again realized how much he’d been overlooking. Setting aside his pride, he tried to mimic Rivielton’s footwork, switching between offense and defense, altering his stance. He slashed, stabbed, got hammered, dished out blows in return, and dodged only to be struck again.

Finally, Rivielton faced him, breathing heavily, and assumed a posture. His right leg bent low, his left leg extended, and his torso flattened. Ethan recognized it. But, from this new perspective, it looked different.

‘Tusk Breaker.’

Before, Ethan hadn’t grasped the significance of Rivielton’s posture, where his feet pointed, how the blade extended, the angle of his bowed back, the direction of his gaze, the curve of his fingers, how he inhaled and exhaled. Now, he saw everything. He even forgot that this was “just a test,” so immersed he was in the fight.

‘Can I run away? Probably not. But I’ll die if I do nothing. How on earth do I counter that technique?’

Even before his question finished forming, Ethan mirrored Rivielton’s posture exactly. He’d observed the reason behind Rivielton’s stance, so he was able to replicate it perfectly.

‘I’ll take the same approach. Meet it head-on.’

Drawing upon Ruure’s Breathing to circulate mana naturally through his body, Ethan inhaled sharply. Mana compressed in his legs, then burst upward in a flash, surging into his lower back muscles, hooking into his shoulders, and gripping his forearms, all to swing his blade.

The target was the foe’s “tusk.”

The two blades collided.

∞

The next day, out in an outdoor test field, an explosive burst made everyone flinch. A cloud of smoke billowed through the area. Thankfully, it soon cleared in the open air.

The examiner, Professor Rydel Remus, waited until the smoke dissipated. At the center of the explosion stood nothing but a simple scarecrow dressed in armor. Despite the blast, it was still intact.

“Yejoff Asgasil, Basic Magic Exercises ‘Destruction’…” Rydel announced. “…Failed.”

Yejoff, looking slightly disappointed, scratched his neck. His circle of friends cheered him on anyway, finding his attempt impressive. Since he’d already passed, having earned more than seven points in Basic Magic Exercises, he was just testing himself. Even failure was something to applaud at this stage.

“Look over there… What’s up with him?”

“Hey, Yejoff, did you beat him up?”

“As if. He likely got mugged by bandits on his way to town or something.”

This time, the target of their chatter was Ethan, who arrived in visibly dire condition. His one eye was covered in bandages, he had bruises on his neck, and he walked with a limp. Anyone could tell he was in pain.

“Ethan.” Rydel gazed quietly at him.

“Yes.”

“Your voice is hoarse too. Are you all right?”

“I’ve got a bit of a fever.”

“So it seems. You do know you can request a retest, right?”

“I’m aware, but I’d like to pass today.”

Rydel offered him a short nod.

Ethan adopted the Tusk Breaker stance, and a murmur passed through the students.

“Didn’t you see how Yejoff just failed?”

“Forget it. He can barely open one eye.”

“They say only two people have managed to pass ‘Destruction’ so far this year.”

“Well, it’s one of the few tests that body magic might help with. Guess he’s desperate.”

The students tittered. Even Yejoff’s expression was indifferent, making it clear that he doubted Ethan could succeed. None of them believed Ethan was serious about passing this subtest.

Clang!

A sharp metallic ring resounded, unlike anything they’d heard before, like metal being sheared apart. Everyone saw Ethan get hurled to the ground. Yejoff’s friends were about to laugh again, but Yejoff himself rose involuntarily from his seat.

“…What?”

“Ethan Dora Charasen, Basic Magic Exercises ‘Destruction’…” Professor Rydel said. “Pass.”

As soon as she spoke, Ethan—still sprawled on his back—wiped the sweat from his brow. Next to him, the scarecrow’s armor, neatly split in two, gave a dull thud as it fell to the ground.

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