WETRIED TRANSLATIONS

Wizard of the Abyss

[Translator – Aren]

Chapter 79 - Selection (10)

"What did you do to Linmel?”

"I just fast-forwarded the potential she might reach in the future. I didn’t expect that much though. Three minutes, can you believe it? She blasted through that witch’s den in just three minutes. You’d better not let go of that girl.”

"My question is whether she’s okay.”

"Even if I say she is, you won’t believe me, right? But really, there’s nothing wrong with her. The only side-effect is that this is a one-time thing. And could you even call that a problem?”

"...I’ll trust you for now.”

Soaking wet because of the rain pouring over me, I sprinted around the back of the World Tree.

It was absurdly huge, so just circling around it took a while. I pushed my Tide Sense out, scanning what might lie ahead.

And I felt nothing.

"But tell me. Why are you going?”

"They’re fighting because of me, so I can’t back out of this.”

"No—our first priority is running. If you just want to relay the situation to Brimdal, then I can do that. You know it’s the Empire’s strongest Knight fighting against the worst witch here, right? The two who might both become your mentors?”

"Yeah."

"And why?”

Despite being an old man, Azrael lightly bounced next to me, easily keeping pace with me as he kept asking questions.

Growing increasingly more annoyed, I snapped back at him.

"Azrael, I get your goal. You want me to stabilize Master and then pull off that ‘liberation’ you keep talking about, right? So just let me handle things.”

"Hmm, it’s close, but not quite.”

"What is it you want then?”

"I don’t believe that Dercia can ever return to normal. She crossed the line a long time ago. She’s never going to free us.”

"...Why?”

Azrael answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"How many elves do you think I’ve watched? She’s already done for. She’ll spend another thousand years tearing apart the world as she pleases, and once she’s tired of it all, she’ll come back, asking me to take her memories, and then I’ll send out another elf.”

"Then I really don’t understand this at all. Why help me? No, why are you interfering in my affairs? Honestly, I can’t tell what you’re trying to do.”

"First, I need to get her out of here before this stable collapses on our heads, and second, to gather information.”

"Huh?"

Information?

He nodded as I glanced at him.

"Usually, when someone’s built up that much—so much that they can’t stay sane anymore—they become extremely closed off. They fixate only on the field they are obsessed with.”

"And what does that matter?”

"You little brat. What do you think your master is moving for right now?”

"Me. But that’s because I’m her disciple.”

"That’s slightly off the mark…”

Azrael shot me a thoughtful look.

"What are you talking about?”

"You’re an interesting one. I’m going to observe you and see exactly how you managed to influence Dercia. And then I’ll use that knowledge to cultivate the next generation’s Messiah.”

"..."

I was left speechless for a moment, then snapped back.

"Stop treating me like your lab rat."

"Keke, we’re all the same, boy. Even using you is part of us.”

So that barrage of questions was just to stockpile data.

As soon as our trivial conversation ended, Dercia and Brimdal came into view.

The good news was—they weren’t fighting.

"...Hmm."

Brimdal was holding Dercia’s neck.

Fortunately, what was dripping down wasn’t blood but sap. A root had coiled around Brimdal’s fist.

A root that moved on its own and wasn’t dangling from a branch.

"How annoying.”

-Crunch!

Brimdal applied the slightest pressure, producing a crisp, refreshing sound—like a watermelon getting smashed open.

"If I said, 'Face me honorably,' what would you answer?"

"I would answer, ‘A Knight does not beg his opponent for victory.’”

"Indeed. That’s the sort of people you are.”

Dercia sat atop a branch dozens of meters above the ground.

Her expression was the exact same as always, calmly reading a book. She looked perfectly fine, actually.

And that was the problem.

"...But victory will be mine.”

"Hmm."

Brimdal tossed aside the bundle of roots tied to his hand.

If the World Tree had truly been alive, one look at the surrounding scene would have made it vomit multiple times.

Shredded roots, crushed leaves, splintered branches.

Even with rain pouring down, the pungent scent of bruised herbs clung to my nose, testifying to the brutality of the fight.

"You are free to dream, but you should still look at reality."

Dercia snapped her finger, and the plants rose again.

As if immortal, they stood even in their horribly torn, mangled state.

Not all of them took the form of roots. Among them, some resembled wooden human mannequins modeled after Dercia herself.

They gripped swords. A few—had stars glittering in their eyes.

"...This madwoman."

Now I understood why Dercia used these methods.

She created human-shaped plants—and planted worlds inside them.

Only then did I look up at the rain piercing through the sky. Was that what was reviving those plants?

"Reality, huh…?”

Watching Brimdal raise his sword with a frown, I started to consider another possibility.

Why wasn’t Dercia using her usual magic using that fountain pen she loved so much? Why was she sticking to manipulating roots?

At first, I brushed it off, thinking that it was probably more efficient to use roots since we were near the World Tree.”

No. This was an experiment.

The only reason she chose these methods was to gather as much information as possible.

—all for me.

"You’re watching. That’s what this is.”

-Boom!

The moment Brimdal saw the plant mages rushing in, he broke through a gap between them and sprinted straight toward where I stood.

"...!"

Only then did Dercia flinch, finally realizing that I, who should still have been tied up in that chamber, was now standing outside.

It was too late. Brimdal stepped forward, shielding me behind him, twirling his sword once before pointing it straight at Dercia.

"You’ve been negligent with your hostage. Not very terrorist-like of you.”

"..."

"So, what am I supposed to do now?”

Dercia frowned for a moment, then closed her book with a sigh.

Brimdal didn’t move an inch, his sword still pointed forward. His blade was so sharp with killing intent that even breathing wrong felt like it would slice you open.

"No matter what magic you try, at this distance it’s impossible for you to stop me from taking your disciple and escaping…”

"Yes. I suppose it can’t be helped. Congratulations on your victory…”

"...What?"

Brimdal stared at her, completely bewildered.

But she fully ignored him. She answered in the light, slow tone characteristic of her, waving her hand dismissively.

"Hostage? What nonsense. I was planning to drop you somewhere far away, then return to persuade him again. And if persuasion failed—I would have no other choice but to let him go.”

"Wait, what in the—”

It wasn’t just words. As Brimdal watched, all the plant soldiers collapsed at once; he tilted his head in confusion.

It was pretty ridiculous. If a hostage escaped, most enemies would move on to Phase 2. But she simply gave up?

He was probably wondering if this could have been something we could have just solved by talking.

Absolutely not.

Leaving the bewildered Brimdal behind, I stepped forward.

"Master. Please wait just a moment.”

"Jern, do you still have something to say?”

"There are a few questions I’d like to ask. Could you answer them for me?”

"I thought our conversation ended underground.”

"Didn’t you just say that you intended to brutally kill Sir Brimdal and then attempt to persuade me again?”

"...I did not say that.”

Dercia narrowed her eyes and bent a branch toward me.

"Jern."

"It’s alright. Please leave it to me.”

"...Hmm."

After I told Brimdal to stand down, I approached Dercia so that we could speak.

"What is it you want to know?”

"You still haven’t abandoned the idea of saving me by turning innocent elves into mages, then forcibly turning them into Fallen to counter my burdens, have you?”

"No, I haven’t. As I said before, there is no problem with this method. I truly cannot understand why you refuse to accept it.”

"Then why should I accept it?”

"Do you see this?”

Dercia raised one of the plant mages.

Inside its liquid-filled hollow, resembling an eye, there floated a star, albeit incomplete.

"Can you—can you actually make that thing fall?”

"Of course not. It cannot feel pain, nor can it think. You can’t make something fall if it has no will. It is nothing but a tool designed to activate predefined spells.”

"Then what is the point of this?”

"Does this look like a human to you?”

"No."

"Then killing it poses no issue, right?”

The plant mage crumbled back into tangled roots.

Dercia watched it nonchalantly, then muttered as she turned towards me.

"That shaman has most likely stuffed your head full of useless, fabricated knowledge.”

"...Fabricated?"

"Oh, for the love of all that is good. You rascal, are you seriously believing that madwoman’s words?"

"Of course. She’s my Master.”

I trusted Dercia’s sincerity far more than Azrael’s.

This situation made it very clear. If Dercia truly wanted to save me at any cost, she would have lied about the method.

This was harmless. It wouldn’t create any new Fallen. There was nothing left inside the chamber either.

Just like this.

She knew I would refuse and that this wouldn’t achieve her goal.

And still, Dercia didn’t hide anything.

She explained her goal, her motive, the means, and every step of her method in full detail.

Compared to that shady, insidious Azrael, the contrast couldn’t be clearer.

"Hah, I’m offended. What exactly did I lie about?”

"You probably said something like ‘I failed to break this livestock pen,’ correct?”

"Close enough."

"I’m sorry, but no, not really. I don’t actually feel very sorry, but… I genuinely do not care in the slightest what becomes of the elves.”

Dercia pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance.

"To be honest, it’s deeply shameful. The fact that my own race is this uncivilized and to have my disciple discover it makes me want to crawl into the next best mouse hole.”

"No, it’s not that—”

"Living however they please, piling up karma, then blaming time or the nature of our race instead of themselves—and finally throwing away all responsibility by erasing their memories and running away—honestly, isn’t that a bit much?”

"..."

I had so many things I wanted to say that I couldn’t decide.

I also agreed.

And I almost told her, ‘Didn’t you run away too? Isn’t that a trait for your race?’

But I thought it would be better if I kept that to myself, so I said nothing.

"In any case, among those useless bits of fabricated knowledge, there is one thing he told you that was true. The retrieval of memories.”

"Retrieval of memories?”

"Yes. The single reason I chose elves. Azrael can store the memories of elves. In other words, he can extract the painful memories that caused someone to fall. Then, only the Fallen remains.”

"...How is that any different? Don’t you still end up with a Fallen? Just one who didn’t suffer.”

"It’s different. First, the lives these elves live in that enclosure have no value whatsoever. They are pure waste. They wouldn’t even feel the suffering of a fall. They are tools built to be used, so why in the world are you telling me not to use them?”

"Wait, you insane woman!”

Azrael finally snapped, jabbing a finger at her.

"I admit our species’ way of life is far from admirable, but it’s not so worthless that we deserve to be used like disposable objects!”

"You have been."

"..."

Azrael was speechless.

"That, too, is simply one of the many methods with which I attempted to convince you, Jern. These elves have committed heinous crimes by your standards. They are sinners who have even forgotten the desire to die. I am merely using them for the sake of a greater cause, without causing them pain, and then letting them go… So what exactly is the problem? By what standard do you differentiate those plant humans from elves?”

"Haah..."

I pressed my fingers against my temple.

There were once again too many things I wanted to say.

But this time, I could choose the one that seemed most correct from among them.

"Master."

"Yes. I’m listening.”

"I don’t want ‘that is possible’ to exist as an option. I don’t want it to be something I must even consider.”

"..."

"I’ve weighed the scales thoroughly enough.”

"......"

Our eyes met.

Only then did I notice that there was something different about Dercia even though she looked the same as always.

There was a bit more clarity in her gaze.

"I see."

"Will you give up on this then?”

"I can’t.”

Dercia slowly shook her head.

"You know me. I know you. I believe further words are meaningless.”

She turned her back and began to leave.

This was most likely the end.

Just because words were able to reach someone didn’t mean opinions would converge.

Dercia would continue her hellish research.

To save me.

And so.

"Words are meaningless."

I knew of a way to make the compression process for Thunder Gale easier.

One would just have to press the compressed air into a chamber created by hydraulic pressure.

-BOOOM!

"Hmm."

Thunder Gale—its name now seeming quite inappropriate—was split clean in half.

Dercia hadn’t even lifted a finger. She hadn't even turned around. She simply willed the high-level spell to be torn apart.

Perhaps she didn’t even do it consciously.

But she probably realized something, since she turned around with a somewhat interested expression.

"Thunder Gale…Hmm. I see. It was only ever present as a theoretical possibility, with no guidelines at all. You reached it on your own?”

"Dercia."

I called her by name.

"Take off the rank badge. Let’s fight.”

"...?"

For the first time, a visible change appeared in her expression.

* * *

Dercia looked at me with a bewildered expression.

"You want to fight me?”

"Yes."

"Hmm..."

After a short moment of thought, Dercia muttered while looking at me.

"Jern, I don’t…recall you ever being so stupid… Is it because you trained under a Knight? Is that why you’ve become so…belligerent?”"

"I know full well that I can’t possibly beat you. That’s why I’m asking for a chance.”

"A chance?"

I borrowed the short sword from Brimdal, who was eyeing me with quite some interest, and slowly widened the distance between myself and Dercia.

"I have reached 2 stars now."

"I see. Congratulations.”

"I ask that you restrict yourself to only 2-star magic. And do not move from that spot. Also, no use of any other arcane artifacts. If you break any of these conditions, it’s my win.”

"Hmm…"

Dercia looked at me with a troubled expression.

It was understandable. Telling her I want to fight her while stacking conditions that were only in my own favor on her must seem quite difficult for her to understand.

"Did you perhaps hit your head?”

"Dercia. If you win, I’ll become a faithful disciple from this moment on.”

A strange light flashed in her eyes.

"Explain."

"No Brimdal. No Azrael. No reinforcement. Just you and me. A duel with the conditions as stated.”

I raised the blade. Rainwater dripped onto the ground as the metal gleamed sharply.

"If I lose, I’ll use anyone, human or elf, without hesitation, as a means to survive. Do you want to add anything?”

"And if I lose?”

I had already decided on that.

"You’ll let me manipulate your memory as I please. Using Azrael’s power.”

"What?"

Azrael, who was standing next to her, reacted even louder than Dercia, who seemed mostly unfazed by all that. She nodded slowly.

"You want to freely manipulate my memories and make me your slave… Something like that?”

"A slave is…a bit much. I’m not going to go that far. I’ll just erase every memory related to all of this.”

"Hmm. So it’s a duel with each of us waging the right to rule the other. I understand.”

"Yes. It’s rather hard to weigh a 2-star against a 9-star on the same scale, isn’t it?”

"No."

Dercia instantly cut me off.

It was as if she didn’t want to miss this opportunity.

"When do we start?”

"I suggested this, so you decide.”

-Swish

Suddenly the rain stopped.

Dercia had severed the magi that had dominated this region.

She discarded the power of a 9-star and confined herself within the narrow cage of 2-star.

"Now! It’s the perfect opening! Go attack her, you brainless beanpole of a dwarven Knight!”

Azrael immediately began shouting, but Brimdal simply crossed his arms and completely ignored him.

"What are you doing? Your disciple just handed you a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!! You don’t see it?!”

"I saw."

"Then why aren’t you rushing in already, you idiot?!”

"That elf seems worth watching a little longer.”

"?"

We both ignored him.

I held my sword, widened the distance, and formed a sphere of wind to fire off Thunder Gale at any given moment.

I knew my limits. Three shots at most.

Any more and my shoulder would tear apart. However, that was more than enough power to completely overwhelm a 2-star mage’s body.

Thunder Gale was a high-level spell.

Even Dercia couldn’t produce equivalent destructive power while confined to 2-star spells.

"Let’s begin in 10 seconds."

As she said that—

Dercia suddenly smiled with deep satisfaction.

"Jern. You cannot take back your words now.”

"Yes. I know.”

"So I will give you a chance to surrender. Check behind me with your senses.”

"...?"

I blinked.

Ever since learning Arcane Strengthening, I could use my Tide Sense to perceive the flow of mana.

When magic activated, I could see something like an empty hole in the Abyssal Sea.

And then—my face twisted.

"..........That’s cheating.”

"I told you. There’s no going back.”

It wasn’t anything special, just a small arrow made of wind.

It was barely stronger than a 1-star spell, not a 2-star spell.

But—there were many of them.

Enough to make it seem like my Abyssal Sea had split like the Red Sea.

Two seconds before the match began, I realized something I had already been aware of once more.

"I guess you must’ve felt really embarrassed.”

Even if she restricted herself to 1-star spells.

I could never, even if I died and came back to life, defeat Dercia.

"To choose to lose in this fashion."

9.5-star.

The Empire’s greatest wizard didn’t even need a fan to summon a typhoon.

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