WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ The Inept Mage’s Infinite Regression

Chapter 6

Ethan wanted a skill that didn’t look like magic but could contend with automaton puppets.

According to Demi, swordsmanship on Terra was practiced by only a select few, and the odds of obtaining it through the lottery were exceedingly low.

Reluctantly, he settled for the merchant’s recommendation: Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, and it turned out to be a far better choice than he’d expected.

The takedown technique resembled the wrestling knights learned for war, but what followed—the so-called ‘ground techniques’—were different.

The skills, which bound and shattered the opponent’s joints, gave a clear advantage in bare-handed combat.

From what Ethan knew, once an opponent was knocked down, people would either draw a blade to stab them or at least find a rock to smash them—he hadn’t imagined a scenario where both parties tangled like snakes in a fight.

If he could make a sword-wielding opponent drop their weapon, even without Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, the fight would become fair. If it were easy, sword-bearing soldiers wouldn’t be so fearsome on the battlefield.

Ethan had no choice but to rely on his wits.

<Well, I managed somehow.>

He drew his dagger and stabbed the automaton’s flank and neck as it tried to push him off with one arm. With each strike, the automaton’s movements slowed until it finally froze entirely.

Retrieving his dagger, Ethan shook himself off and stood.

Linav clapped for him. “Impressive, boy.”

“Thank you.”

“But joining the Combat Magic Society will be difficult.”

Ethan stared at Linav, bewildered. “What?”

Linav awkwardly avoided his gaze. “Well… truthfully, no student to defeat an automaton bare-handed has ever joined. Not in the Combat Magic Society’s history or with any other magic society, as far as I know.”

“Then why make me fight?”

“We can’t outright reject an application on paper. Plus, you’re Boen’s friend. I had to humor our cute junior’s request.”

Boen shot Linav a conflicted look. “Don’t drag me into this. You should’ve explained it to me first.”

“Well, the rules aren’t explicit. Even if Ethan joined now, there’s nothing he could do here. Your alchemy was decent, but unless it’s a famous alchemical formula from a renowned family or a hand cannon… that trick of yours won’t cut it.”

“Fine. I’d rather Ethan not join anyway.”

“Hey, kid. There’s a limit to being shameless.” Ethan stepped toward Boen.

Applause echoed from the second-floor railing of the Combat Magic Society’s workshop. “Well done, Ethan.”

All three turned to see a large-framed man with a gray beard leaning on the railing—Professor Rivielton Fabier, teacher of Basic Magic Practice.

Ethan stammered, “P-Professor…?”

Rivielton vaulted over the railing and lightly landed three meters below without so much as a stumble.

Ravina explained, “Professor Rivielton is the Combat Magic Society’s advisor. His expertise is combat magic.”

Rivielton pointed to the torn hem of Ethan’s coat, slashed by the automaton. “Where’d you learn to use a coat like that?”

“…Not to boast, but I roamed the back alleys of Charasen as a kid. When you carry a dueling sword in one hand, you learn to use the other for a coat, shield, or scabbard.”

“Is that so? Then you know how to wield a dueling sword?”

“Yes. A little.” Dueling swords, also called rapiers, were slender and light compared to standard longswords. Optimized for thrusting, they were ideal for narrow alley skirmishes.

“Your magic use was… practical. I’m impressed.”

“Ah, thank you.”

“But what intrigued me was your bare-handed fighting. Where’d you learn that?”

“From Charasen’s thugs,” Ethan smoothly lied.

“Hm. Gang tactics? I’ve heard the city’s underworld is ruled by gangs.”

Gangs—organizations profiting through crime—existed even in Yurmus, raising orphaned children to beg or pickpockets.

“Something like that.”

Rivielton nodded. “Ravina…”

“Yes, Professor?”

“Enroll him.”

“But there’s no precedent! The Combat Magic Society studies combat techniques, which requires basic proficiency in combat magic. Even members who studied alchemy already knew their family’s combat arts—”

“I’ll mentor him personally. Don’t worry.”

“…Understood.” Ravina fetched the enrollment papers and handed them to Ethan.

As Ethan signed, he asked Rivielton, “Professor, if Ravina’s right, isn’t my joining… problematic?”

“So? Do you object?”

“No, but I thought you might have another reason…”

“I have plans. I’ll explain later.” Rivielton smiled warmly while Boen watched Ethan with a frown.

After signing, Ethan realized something.

<Wait…>

∞

That evening, Ethan faced Boen in the dormitory courtyard. “Why’d you call me?”

Boen adjusted his glasses. “I underestimated you.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“In a way. It was my mistake.”

“Then we’re done here?” As Ethan turned to leave, a humming sound rang out.

Three crystals hovered above Boen’s head—his magic. Though Ethan had seen him attempt spells before, it was the first time he’d witnessed it fully. The opaque, elongated octahedrons had edges sharp enough to guess their purpose.

“You’re going to kill me?”

“What you saw wasn’t trivial. My life’s at stake—so yours is too now.”

“If I die, what I saw will be passed to someone else.”

“I’ve confirmed you shared it with no one. You’re not close to your sister, and the ‘evidence’ is already gone. Do you think merely seeing it makes you a threat?”

Ethan smirked. “But a witness is a vulnerability, no?”

“You might gossip. Even suspicion would be… tedious.”

“There’s more evidence, isn’t there? Once an investigation starts, you can’t hide it.”

Boen flatly said, “Think what you want.”

“Others might be involved.”

“Are you done?”

Ethan shrugged. “You won’t kill me. You want more from me. Why keep me alive? Let me ask instead… What do you want?”

A mage in a white coat emerged from the shadows, leaning on a white cane. “Clever student, Ethan Dora Charasen.”

Ethan returned the greeting. “Bain Wiz Decarune.”

“Address me as ‘Professor’.” Bain clicked his tongue. “The matter isn’t with Boen. It’s with me.”

“Is that so?”

“And I won’t ask questions. I’ll extract answers painlessly—if you cooperate.” Bain’s specialty was mental magic.

He stretched a hand toward Ethan. “Come here. Resist, and it’ll hurt.”

Ethan asked, “Are you with the Imperial Inquisition?”

“What if I am?”

“Why act as the Empire’s hound?”

“That’s none of your concern.” Bain curiously added, “Strictly speaking, I’m not an Inquisitor. The Inquisition, the Imperial Army, the Demon King’s faction… all are just the Emperor’s tools. The Empire and I simply share… interests. Not everyone embraces this noble cause.”

When Ethan reached into his coat, one of Boen’s crystals shot down, embedding itself at his feet.

Thud—!

Boen warned, “Don’t be reckless.”

Ethan realized such an encounter was inevitable the moment he’d joined the Society.

Ethan said, “Reckless? Let’s see.” He rolled aside as he pulled something from his coat. The second crystal aimed for his head but never struck.

Clang!

A massive figure deflected it with a sword.

“…Rivielton!” Bain hissed.

Rivielton raised his blade with both hands. “Enough, Bain.”

“How did you—? Never mind.” A translucent blue blade extended from Bain’s cane, matching its length.

“Will you fight?” Rivielton asked.

“Combat magic bores me, but a half-mage like you? That’s easy. Boen, prepare.”

Boen withdrew his focus from Ethan, recalling the crystals to orbit his head.

“You think one longsword can stop all this?”

Rivielton cut in, “Did you think I came alone? Ethan…”

When Ethan pulled something from his coat, Bain and Boen tensed, only to relax as he revealed a party firecracker.

They watched, unimpressed, as he set it off.

Bang!

“A pathetic trick, as expected.”

Rivielton grinned. “I disagree.”

Bain’s gaze shifted to the rooftops of the dormitory and school buildings. Under the twin moons, silhouettes of mages loomed.

They were professors of Yurmus Magic Academy.

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