WETRIED TRANSLATIONS

The Wizard in the Poncho

[Translator – Aren]

Chapter 63 - Everyone's Having a Campfire

Our hideout was protected by ponchos coated in Blood of the Right Hand.

As the wind howled outside and rattled the windows, we discussed what to do with the newly acquired grimoire bound in human skin. Unsurprisingly, the two zealots, Pastor Park Yohan and Shin Nain, were most vehemently opposed to it.

"What is there to think about? It’s an evil object made from human skin. And according to Jemin, it’s a gateway to demons, right? Burn it immediately!”

"The devil’s strategy is to tempt you with small, immediate gains. A bargain with demons may appear beneficial, but it always ends in ruin.”

Hamza, on the other hand, had finally calmed down enough to think, though his opinion kept wavering.

"It’s dangerous. Really dangerous…but the Angel says it could still be useful.”

"Are you sure that’s actually an angel? You’re not already bewitched, are you?”

When Pastor Park Yohan shot him a skeptical look, Hamza frowned in irritation.

"Don't question the Angel Jibril!”

"Hey, it’s Gabriel, right? Why do you call them Jibirl?!”

I didn’t have time to deal with the two of them bickering.

Glancing aside, I saw Lee Sejun yawning lazily, looking completely uninterested before tossing in his own opinion.

"If using that thing means those disgusting cuneiform marks start growing all over your body, I’m out.”

For a rugged 24-year-old built like an ox, he cared an awful lot about skincare.

To be fair, I agreed that using the cuneiform grimoire recklessly was a terrible idea.

Contracts and rituals involving transcendent beings had always been the textbook example of astronomical risk for questionable reward.

Naturally, it wasn’t as if they were complete scams. These mystical contracts usually promised something incredibly and genuinely delivered.

The problem was that under the law of equivalent exchange the price the caster had to pay was just as extraordinary.

People loved joking that making deals with supernatural beings was easy money. They imagined talented wizards sweet-talking demons and otherworldly entities into signing fraudulent contracts.

But they overlooked something important. Even those storybook wizards always stressed that certain rules absolutely had to be followed. And whenever they performed a ritual, they carried it out exactly according to the manual.

If you looked beyond the exciting parts of those stories, there was always the implicit warning that if you were to make a contract, following the procedure properly was absolutely necessary.

Honestly, that wasn’t just true of occult rituals. It was sound advice for life in general.

I, Baek Jemin, had stepped into this sea of fog in pursuit of the omnipotent power called magic to reach its deepest mysteries, not because I thought I could grab immense power without paying any price.

To put an end to the argument brewing among the Supreme Archmages, I finally spoke up.

"Let’s not destroy it so hastily. We’ll use it as a bargaining chip when we deal with the local Seoul wizards.”

Every single member of Supreme Archmages reacted exactly the same way.

"Baek Jemin? You?”

"Huh? Did I hear that right?

"What?"

"Jemin-ssi?”

Every one of them stared at me with wide eyes. My face twisted into a scowl.

Just what kind of person did these people think I was? Couldn’t they see I was the cool-headed Archmage Baek Jemin? A man who pursued magic carefully, rationally, and with perfect composure?

Clicking my tongue, I tapped the cover of the cuneiform grimoire, the one supposedly made from human skin, with my index fingernail.

"First. If this grimoire really belongs to a demon, or something on that level, then simply trying to destroy it might draw its attention. It’s a classic trope. The one who destroys it is the one who ends up cursed.”

"Baek Jemin, that’s exactly what they want. They want to make us submit through fear so we’ll leave that evil thing in the world!”

Watching Pastor Park Yohan practically foam at the mouth, I had to admit he made me hesitate for a moment.

Destroying the grimoire.

While it might be different for an Alteration-type wizard, if a Dogma-type wizard destroyed a grimoire like this, there was a chance they’d gain something from it. Dogma-type wizards drew their power from humanity’s long-held religious worldviews. If they destroyed a grimoire that was essentially an invasion from another world, it wasn’t unreasonable to think it might strengthen them.

There was some logic to that…

But Kang Areum-noonim’s warning that Dogma-type wizards were the first ones they target surfaced in my mind.

The others had heard it too. She hadn’t been that far away when she warned me. Yet somehow, none of the other Supreme Archmages seemed to think it was especially important.

In reality, though, Ski Goggles had gone after the Dogma-type wizards, Hamza and the pastor, first.

Was it really just a coincidence that he’d hidden himself before closing in with an Amalgam head and a Predator Spine?

Had he simply chosen the weaker combatants first, or was there another reason Dogma-type wizards were specifically being hunted? It was impossible to say.

And in a situation like this, there was no telling what destroying the grimoire might do to a Dogma-type wizard.

At the very least, we had to find more clues and a way to safely destroy it without any side effects first.

When I laid out my reasoning, the pastor's and Shin Nain’s expressions immediately changed.

"Haah…Jemin. I thought the grimoire had already gotten its hooks into you.”

"As expected of a fellow practitioner of the Holy Alteration Battle Arts.”

"Of course, we should read it first.”

"Baek Jemin!!!”

The pastor looked ready to explode again, so I quickly held up a hand and waved it back and forth, calming him down before explaining my second point.

"Setting aside whether we can actually learn anything from it, if we run into another Ritual-type wizard, we need to know what other spells they might have.”

Ski Goggles had used 2 main incantations.

I’d fought him face-to-face, so I remembered those vividly. They sounded like meaningless gibberish, but for someone who’d formed a contract with a transcendent being, they’d been powerful spells.

1. Halu Wi Hongwiyashen.

A concealment spell. Unless you recognized it, even Hamza’s Dogma-type magic, whether it was divine guidance or an Angel’s Intuition or whatever, couldn’t detect it.

If we hadn’t already raised our understanding of Ski Goggles to the level of him being an Alteration-type wizard with some sort of stealth skill, detecting him would’ve been impossible.

As far as I could tell, the less information people had about the caster, the stronger the concealment became.

2. Olnipial.

A summoning and command spell. More precisely, it was the spell he used to summon monsters he’d already brought under his control. I couldn’t confirm whether it was also used to enslave them in the first place.

It just seemed rather likely.

Seeing how he wielded monsters like extensions of his body, even turning them into weapons, it seemed as though he’d managed the risk of controlling them by forcibly transforming ordinary people into monsters.

Capturing living monsters meant hunting them. But capturing healthy civilians, then soaking their heads in Amalgam fluids or infecting their spines with a Predator Spine’s tail was basically a free way to grow his army of familiars.

Those two spells alone were already terrifying, so what if there were more?

What if this grimoire contained clues to the truth behind everything?

"And besides, there might be locals who actually want to learn Ritual-type magic. It could certainly create enemies, but it could also give us a chance to obtain things we desperately need right now.”

Once I laid out those arguments, the other Supreme Archmages finally began to come around.

Even the two zealots who’d been the most fiercely opposed could do no more than quietly recite a short prayer. Neither of them could insist on burning it immediately anymore.

Instead, everyone agreed on one simple thing. That we would proceed very carefully.

The pastor pulled a Bible from his backpack and held it out to me.

"Baek Jemin. Put one hand on this Bible and swear. Swear that you will never let that grimoire corrupt you.”

"You’ll settle for a few words?”

"Before there were laws or scriptures, there was the Word. A covenant may seem insignificant, but it was the beginning that gave shape to the order of the world. There’s a vast difference between making a vow and not making one. That is the power of words.”

And just like that, I found myself having to swear an oath.

Naturally, I wasn’t allowed to crack open that grimoire immediately. First Shin Nain, our Ears-branch, Stage 3 wizard, had to close his eyes tightly and attempt communication while everyone watched.

The goal was to speak with whatever remnant of humanity remained within the book and learn how it was meant to be read.

"Lord, please watch over me.”

His voice trembled slightly as he placed one hand atop the grimoire. Then he fell silent.

10 seconds, 30 seconds, 1 minute…

The hand resting on the grimoire began to tremble.

His eyelids quivered as well. Sweat-soaked strands of hair clung to his cheeks. His lips gradually lost all color. Even Hamza started to look worried.

"I don’t think he’s doing so well.”

"Hamza–ssi, if it’s that obvious just by looking, you don’t have to say it out loud.”

Coming from Lee Sejun of all people, Hamza could only pout and fold his arms.

It was nearly 3 minutes later when Shin Nain suddenly snapped his eyes open and jerked his hand away from the grimoire.

Panting like a fever patient, he staggered from violent dizziness before collapsing into a crawl and leaning against the wall.

"Haah, huff…”

He looked so miserable, I held back all my questions.

Unable to watch any longer, Hamza hurried over and offered him a canteen. Shin Nain weakly accepted it, taking small gulps until his throat was finally wet enough to speak.

"Those hands."

"Hands?"

"When reading it don’t use both hands. Turn the pages with one hand and use one of the prepared hands to hold the pages in place. Be careful not to let the pages open on their own.”

His lips trembled as he added one final warning.

"The owner of this book isn’t human.”

"Got it.”

So, I had to use the severed hands as bookmarks? That was what he meant, right?

Before anyone could stop me, I got everything ready.

I took the neatly stacked severed hands out of Ski Goggles’ backpack and laid them beside me. Then I steeled myself to open the cuneiform grimoire. I could practically feel every Supreme Archmage staring at me with foreboding, so I reassured them with a single sentence.

"Every first step in the world is dangerous."

"And sometimes that first step launches a nuclear missile."

Lee Sejun had become remarkably talented at ruining the mood.

Ignoring him, I opened the grimoire, turning the page with my right hand while using one of the severed hands in my left as a bookmark.

As I lifted the heavy leather cover and turned the very first page, a soft, almost elegant sound echoed through the room.

-Rustle.

The pages were far warmer to the touch than I’d expected.

It felt soft and warm beneath my fingers, like wrapping my hand in thick wool.

If you soaked a piece of wool fabric in a bucket of damp, slightly sticky sweat, you’d probably get something close to the feeling of the cuneiform grimoire’s pages.

People say truly great books make you feel as though the paper and words are alive. The cuneiform grimoire seemed to belong to that category.

-Haah, huuuu.

Those weren’t my breaths. Nor were they the breaths of the Supreme Archmages.

The others had already backed far away, rifles at the ready in case something happened. The breathing belonged to the book.

More precisely, it came from each individual page.

Like a choir that had trained together since childhood until every note and every beat matched perfectly, the entire book inhaled and exhaled as one.

-Haaah—.

The page beneath my right hand puffed up slightly, as if the fibers were rising like fuzz.

-Huuuuuuu…….

Then it deflated again, clinging to my fingers with an unsettling sensation, like damp plastic pressed tightly against my skin and rubbed back and forth.

Each breath carried the faintest trace of moisture, enough that the back of my hand almost felt damp.

The V-shaped cuneiform characters scattered across every page were no different.

The book was alive, breathing and pulsating.

Instead of a heartbeat, the countless cuneiform symbols quivered. With every pulse they trembled, splitting into identical copies, scattering apart, then joining back together again.

The cuneiform was crawling toward my hand.

"!"

I hurriedly placed one of the severed hands onto the page as a bookmark.

Immediately, the cuneiform changed direction. Instead of flowing toward the hand I’d used to turn the page, it crept toward the severed hand holding the page open. This was no ordinary book. Those cuneiform symbols, things that should have been nothing more than writing, flowed across the page like thick syrup, slowly, but unmistakably, toward the severed hand.

Then, the instant a single cuneiform symbol touched it, one of the V-shaped grooves carved into the hand filled with grotesque, dark crimson flesh.

The flesh resembled skin cancer, packing itself tightly into the engraved V before carving an entirely new character into the pale hand.

That was when I understood it.

These severed hands were showing me the time limit.

Once every groove had been filled, the cuneiform would start flowing toward my hand instead.

Only then did I realize my eyelids stung.

A bead of sweat slid down my forehead.

I forced myself to keep examining it, desperate to squeeze out even one more scrap of information.

The grimoire overflowed with V-shaped cuneiform, yet there wasn’t a single word I could understand.

Instead, between the engraved grooves in the sacrificial hand, grotesque, dark-red tumors continued to bloom. Always in the shape of a V.

My reason screamed at me to keep reading, but my eyes kept drifting to the severed hand that marked my remaining time. In the end, I couldn’t take it anymore. I brought over every spare sacrificial hand and laid them across the pages as well.

5 sacrifices remained.

Just in case, I pulled my right hand away, bit into it, and drew blood.

Hand-branch, Stage 1 [Blood of the Right Hand]. I wanted to see whether it could restrain the book.

When I touched the page with my bloodied right hand, it indeed had an effect.

The magic that forced humanity’s common sense upon reality, [Blood of the Right Hand], had at least some effect even on this otherworldly grimoire. Several of the flowing V-shaped cuneiform symbols froze in place.

Then they shattered into countless fragments, breaking apart into tiny, pixel-like dots before arranging themselves into orderly patterns.

My eyes flickered toward the sacrifices.

4 left.

The severed hand whose engraved grooves had been completely filled with cuneiform began writing as grotesque tumors spread across it before melting into the page, fusing with the grimoire.

Everyone recoiled in horror as they watched the hand dissolve into paper, but I forced myself to ignore it, only wanting to grasp the knowledge the book contained.

The only thing that mattered was whatever words those symbols would become.

Just in case, I prepared to use Tongue-branch, Stage 1 [Degrade], and stared without blinking.

3 sacrifices left.

At last, meaningful words and sentences started appearing.

It was the answer I’d wanted and, at the same time, one I’d hoped not to find.

Still, I needed to be certain, so I read the grimoire aloud.

2 sacrifices left.

This was never a human language.

It hadn’t been written by humanity nor for humanity. It was an altar, prepared to use humanity as a sacrifice.

Even so, Hand-branch, Stage 1 [Blood of the Right Hand], forced humanity’s common sense upon it, and Tongue-branch, Stage 1 [Degrade], prepared it to be spoken aloud in a human tongue.

From the grimoire’s perspective or its master's, there could hardly be a greater act of blasphemy.

Tongue-branch, Stage 1 [Degrade].

"Incantations. Concealment. Servitude. False Fog."

1 sacrifice left.

At that moment I understood what this grimoire, and its master, were trying to say.

Its master had realized I was reading the book and was speaking to me through words degraded into a language humanity could understand.

The shattered cuneiform whispered…

"This contract is perfectly fair. You are being saved through this book.”

The instant I finished reading those words, I jerked my hand away.

I then shoved it into my sleeve so it wouldn’t touch the book and, with a sharp ‘Bam!’ snapped the grimoire shut using my sleeve.

The sacrificial hands were gone.

All five had been consumed and turned into pages.

Just then, someone walked over and tapped my shoulder.

"Jemin-ssi, here’s some water.”

It was Hamza.

Only when I reached out for the bottle did I realize my hand was trembling so badly I could barely hold anything.

My hands were pale from staying out of the sunlight, but never this pale.

Even after I somehow managed to take the bottle, my hand shook hard enough to make the water slosh inside. In the end, I simply pressed the cold bottle against my face, letting the chill calm me.

Then I reached my conclusion.

"Burn it."

This thing was far beyond humanity’s ability to handle.

* * *

April 19th, 2028, 8:14 PM.

Day 5 of our expedition.

Using the lighter Hamza had brought, we finally got to enjoy a proper campfire.

With the fog cleared and Seoul’s skies finally open, the temperature had dropped sharply, like a late-spring cold snap. We needed the warmth to keep from freezing. And while we were at it, fire happened to be the best way to dispose of something this dangerous.

The only catch was that we had to crack the window open a little to let the smoke escape. Strangely enough, Hamza didn’t think that was dangerous.

"The Angel says it’s fine.”

"I don’t hear anything approaching. Are monsters afraid of fire?”

"That honestly would make sense."

Come to think of it, the military had also assumed monsters would be vulnerable to liquid nitrogen or fire.

Liquid nitrogen was a nightmare to obtain and carry around, but fire was another story.

Especially since we’d already seen what happened when the military used flamethrowers to burn refugee groups that monsters had infiltrated. The monsters writhed in agony, unable to approach the flames.

Meanwhile, Lee Sejun sat a good 10 paces away from the burning grimoire, lazily picking at a can of food.

"Every animal’s afraid of fire."

"A species that mastered fire and became the rulers of creation and beasts born from human flesh that fear those flames. Either way, these monsters are trying to profane humanity’s sacred place in the world.”

Pastor Park Yohan perfectly interpreted Lee Sejun’s half-hearted remark into a proper religious lecture.

Even so, everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

The happiest among us was Pastor Park Yohan. After all, he’d been the one who’d personally held the lighter to the grimoire. He even wore a broad, confident smile.

"That’s always how these evil things work. They threaten you, tell you to run, and promise that if you don't, they’ll make you suffer horribly. But people with true faith don’t give in, because they know the Almighty Lord will save them in the end!”

"At least we managed to identify three incantations."

Shin Nain calmly chewed on some canned peaches before continuing.

"Now that we know there’s a spell called 'Fake Fog,' we’ll be able to watch for traps laid by the servants of evil.”

"So Islam’s magic just got a whole lot more useful. Hey, Islam, stop being scared. Either call on ‘Allah’ or just covet and believe in Jesus.”

"You’re the weird ones for not being scared. I’m the normal one.”

Despite Hamza’s indignant protest, we were finally able to enjoy a moment of peace.

We sat around our little campfire, fed by the burning grimoire, eating hardtack, canned food, and drinking bottled water. Everyone was exhausted after 5 straight days of non-stop marching. And we really needed to get our spirits back up before we worked on overcoming our biggest hurdle, crossing the Han River.

Even I quietly opened one of the cans of Spam I’d been saving.

"So, after meeting that girl, Go Ryeoha, and getting the information we need, erm, should we help her escape?”

I’d asked the question without much thought.

"If we’d arrived with the military as the pastor guessed, maybe. But under our current circumstances, I don’t think it’s possible.”

"Can’t she just stay here? The Seoul wizards seem to be doing pretty well for themselves.”

"Lee Sejun, are you actually a psychopath?”

"The least we could do is get the information and escort her somewhere safer. Maybe Gangnam…or another secure hideout?”

For once, Hamza came up with a surprisingly reasonable suggestion.

He figured Go Ryeoha would probably ask for safe passage in exchange for information. If she’d heard about what us five Supreme Archmages had accomplished, having us escort her would be a pretty attractive deal, even among the Seoul wizards.

The problem was that it all sounded too plausible.

I couldn’t help thinking about it seriously.

"The thing is, we Supreme Archmages aren’t exactly good at protecting people.”

After some honest self-reflection, I, Baek Jemin, had to admit the truth.

We were excellent at avenging people, but keeping them alive and getting them home safely? Not so much.

* * *

April 20th, 2028, 4:12 AM.

Dawn of day 6 of our expedition.

I hadn’t woken up because I was tense or because monsters were running wild.

-Bzzzzt.

The spell phone just kept vibrating.

-Bzzzt. Bzzzzt.

It went on so relentlessly that everyone rubbed their eyes and woke up.

"What is it, Baek Jemin?”

"Jemin-ssi, turn that thing off already!”

Never mind the fact that this excuse of a phone could apparently turn itself on whenever it felt like it. I was too busy checking the message and video it had received.

The other Supreme Archmages could wait.

[Video transmission complete.]

[News Anchor: As of April 20, nationwide armed resistance has temporarily subsided following a forceful crackdown by the martial law forces and mediation by the United Nations. Meanwhile, the Combined US-Korea Command in Pyeongtaek has emphasized cooperation with UN forces to bring the crisis to an end while drawing attention to the recent thinning of Seoul’s anomalous fog.]

[News Anchor: General McKin, commander McKin, commander of the Combined US-Korea Headquarters in Pyeongtaek, stated that the reduction of the anomalous fog, which has been the primary factor behind the sharp decline in the Republic of Korea military’s combat effectiveness, along with shifting seasonal winds, presents an opportunity. Restrictions on previously limited weapon systems will be lifted in an effort to minimize military casualties and maintain the front lines. However, civilian experts warn that this tactical shift is likely to eliminate any realistic chance of survivors being rescued alive…]

The news.

The spell phone had delivered it as a message.

Then another anonymous message arrived.

[Authorization confirmed for use of incendiaries, white phosphorus, and chemical weapons.]

[If decontamination equipment or CBRN gear is unavailable, request support from the nearest sources. Supply deliveries will resume once fog density recovers.]

_________________________________________________________________________

Join our Discord for updates on releases! https://dsc.gg/wetried