Three days later, Adam looked at the devil standing before him, trembling from head to toe, and asked, "Well?"
The devil was anxious in secret. Even though it had been born with the ability to command negative energy, three days was simply too short; the best it had managed was the crudest of applications — treating negative energy as a shockwave and firing it off.
But faced with Adam's question, it could only stiffen its neck and nod. "Of course. No problem at all!"
"Good. Then full power — use negative-energy magic on me."
"Sure, mm—?" The devil accepted the order by reflex, then froze. "Master, you said what?"
"I said, use negative-energy magic on me, full power."
The devil dropped to its knees with a thud and clutched at Adam's leg, wailing, "Master, I know I was wrong! I'll never dare do it again!" It thought Adam meant to punish it this way. Between the two parties of a master-servant contract, a devil in the slave's place who attacked its master without being able to withstand the backlash would suffer terrible pain.
Adam flicked it away and said, "I'll suppress the contract backlash for now. I permit you to attack as you please."
The devil scrambled up on the other side and asked incredulously, "Suppress the backlash? Attack as I please?"
Adam nodded.
"And if I happen to kill Master?"
"Then that's your own skill. If you can do it, you're free — James and Frank can bear witness for you."
The devil was wild with joy. It had never expected to hear such terms from Adam. Has this human finally ruined his brain with his experiments? Well, if you're asking to die, then don't blame Garfield the Great for being ruthless!
Blinded by false confidence, the devil never noticed the pitying looks James and Frank were giving it. They knew very well how strong Adam was now, and did not believe the devil could do him the slightest harm.
The devil asked, with fake concern, "Master, aren't you going to set up a defense first?"
"No need," Adam said with a shake of his head.
The next second, the devil's body collapsed in on itself; its chaotic, twisted form became one enormous mouth, and vast gray energy spewed from it. The laboratory seemed to fall into dusk at once, the light dimming, and James and Frank began to show signs of sinking into an illusion.
"Foolish human, you'll pay for your arrogance! Garfield the Great is about to be free!" The devil threw back its head and laughed at the sky: "Cack cack!"
Fine popping sounds crackled through the air. James and Frank broke free of the illusion and looked at the devil again, this time with wariness and an even deeper pity.
"Who is Garfield? A name you gave yourself?"
The devil's laughter cut off. It lowered its head and stared at Adam in disbelief. "You're fine? How? How can you be fine!" Refusing to believe it, it loosed three negative-energy blasts in a row, draining every bit of its energy. This time it kept its eyes fixed on Adam and saw the energy strike his body without the slightest obstruction — yet nothing at all happened to him.
Adam was fairly satisfied with the experiment, so he let the devil's words slide. He walked straight over, swept the devil aside, and went back to his room to record the data.
The devil turned blankly toward James and Frank. "What just happened?"
James walked over and patted it on its — well, he wasn't sure which part — and said, "Obviously, your master has gotten stronger. You should be thankful he isn't the type to hold grudges, otherwise today..."
The energy blasts had indeed entered Adam's body, but the charged nature of his new meditation method had perfectly enabled him to break free of the illusion and the negative emotions.
Current circulated ceaselessly through his body, stimulating his neurons and keeping him alert at every moment, while his fully restored threads and logical thinking, aided by the static charge, swept every stray thought away at tremendous speed. More wondrous still, he sensed a layer of invisible protection lying outside his soul.
"Is this why full-fledged Mages don't fear curses and negative-energy magic? The protection of knowledge?" Adam could not help but marvel. This was the wonder of a high-magic world; this was the charm of magic. This feeling of knowledge turning directly into power was truly intoxicating.
"No wonder modern Mages abandoned ancient magic. This way of gaining power simply cannot be compared with backward ancient magic."
Over the following month, Adam kept refining his new meditation method, folding each new piece of knowledge into it. As he did, he gained a new ability: levitation.
That did not mean he had gained a knowledge of electromagnetism, however; on the strength of his current research he had merely obtained some of its applications ahead of time. Truly mastering electromagnetic force would require a far more arduous process.
But for the moment Adam had no way to pursue deeper research. That day, Mage Blake, whom he had not seen for a long time, sent word that Adam was to meet him on the second floor of the mission hall.
"It's probably about doing your academy mission," James reminded him.
Adam understood. He recalled that contract apprentices were obliged to serve the academy: every apprentice had one academy mission a year, which could be offset with energy stones — but if the academy named you specifically, an apprentice had no right to refuse.
Adam fished the devil out of the crowd of women, put it back into the thread, and flew to the mission hall.
"Good day, Mage Blake, sir."
After bowing, Adam saw that he was not alone on the second floor: William was there, and so were Cristel and Ophelia, whom he had not seen in a long time.
William greeted Adam and said nothing more.
Cristel looked unchanged, but Adam could sense that Cristel's mental state was utterly different now. It was not a manifestation of energy but an outward display of will.
"Good day, Adam. Long time no see," Cristel said.
Ophelia was encased head to toe in metal armor, her face covered by a visor as well, a greatsword taller than she was standing at her hand. She was colder than before; in her deep blue eyes lay indifference toward everything. She showed no reaction whatsoever to seeing Adam, as though he did not exist at all.
Adam nodded to Cristel, and before he could say anything, Mage Blake spoke. "You can catch up later. This time you'll be forming a team to complete a mission, and the location is your homeland."
The other three clearly already knew the contents of the mission; only Adam was taken aback. Homeland?
"The deserted island?"
"More precisely, Madeira Island," Mage Blake said.
Mage Blake went on. "Two years ago an organization appeared in the west of Madeira Island. They call themselves the Church of the Supreme God. At first they moved only in the western region; the spellcasters among them call themselves God's Servitors. They bewitch the poor and spread their doctrine, claiming that sincere faith in the god will grant supernatural power, and they drive the faithful to slaughter heretics wholesale, sacrificing human flesh and blood to their god in exchange for his blessing."
Adam was a little dazed. He remembered the cults back on Earth; the playbook seemed to be the same. But could it really work in a high-magic world like the Mage Plane?
Mage Blake saw his confusion. "Their flesh-and-blood sacrifices do grant power. Duke Alfred, who is stationed on Madeira Island, has confirmed it."
"Are there really gods?" Adam asked.
That plainly did not fit the Mages' worldview. He even suspected that if gods did exist, they could only be prey to Mages.
Mage Blake said, "There are no gods in the Mage Plane, but there are in other planes.
'God' is simply what the ignorant natives of other worlds call themselves.
You may regard them as Mages who have reached the transdimensional level. Praise the great Prometheus, True Spirit Archmage; praise Anne Croft, Guardian of the World. Because of their existence, no being of another plane can descend into the Mage Plane in its own flesh.
The powerful beings of other planes can only rely on luck, searching the void for humans able to receive their message, hoping to obtain the coordinates of the Mage Plane through them."
Mage Blake gave a snort of laughter. "But it's futile. The coordinates of the Mage Plane have been encrypted by every True Spirit Archmage; there is no way they can be discovered."
Adam paused. Then what am I? Some lucky guy?
"The natives of other planes can only send down power through sacrifice. Ordinary people who gain strength that way won't be very strong; the academy judges that no full-fledged-rank spellcaster will appear."
"Your mission is to wipe out the cult and bring back the medium through which the other-plane natives transmit their messages."
Having said this, Mage Blake looked at the four of them. "Any other questions?"
All four shook their heads.
"You must set out within two days," Mage Blake said at last. "And as for who's in charge of the mission — that's Adam."
Afterward the four walked out of the mission hall, agreed to meet at the foot of the tower early the next morning, and then went their separate ways.
In his mind, Adam asked, "Does your inheritance memory hold any information on powerful beings from other planes?"
The devil popped out, utterly unconcerned. "I don't remember the details anymore. But Master, you're a being of the Mage Plane! Why would a Mage care about some other-plane natives? That idiot god is dead already — only an idiot would try to descend into the Mage Plane without knowing whether he'd live or die."
Back at the laboratory, Adam began purchasing alchemical items, teleportation scrolls above all. He had learned his lesson last time and never wanted to be trapped in a hopeless situation he could not escape again.
The next day at the foot of the tower, William and the other two saw Adam in full gear. They could tell that the robe he wore carried a built-in full-fledged-rank earth defensive spell — worth a fortune; that the ring on his hand could unleash a full-fledged-rank fire attack spell — worth a fortune; and that the necklace at his chest could trigger a full-fledged-rank water healing spell — also worth a fortune.
The equipment Adam had on was worth more than most apprentices' entire fortunes put together.