I slowly examined the two stars floating before my eyes. It was certainly a surprising turn of events. I was now a 2-Star mage.
I would be met with less suspicion, and perhaps I might even be called a magical genius.
However.
[What am I supposed to do with this now?]
The situation had not changed. It was good that the burden had lessened, but— —Grind... No matter how I tightened the water pressure or applied force with the currents, the root remained unscratched.
It seemed it wasn't a simple root, but had undergone some kind of magical treatment. Its durability was nothing like that of a root. Azrael studied me with intrigued eyes and said.
"That is up to you."
[?]
"I have handed a sword to you who was naked. What more do you wish for? The rest you must do on your own."
Contrary to his irresponsible words, he seemed to be in a very good mood.
"You should be more than capable."
[Me?]
"Yes. If I had my way, I would examine it step by step and explain everything, but that is impossible in this body, and this is hardly the situation for it."
Azrael looked around as if troubled. He wasn't looking at this place, but likely assessing the situation above.
[What is happening up there?]
"Do not worry about this place. After you escape, head upwards. I will be there soon." —Thud.
Having said that, Azrael plunged headfirst into the ground. I quickly checked him with Tide Sense, but he was still breathing. It seemed he had simply abandoned the body. ....
Just because it's not his own body. If it wasn't a damp earthen floor, it could have been dangerous.
"Hmm..."
After laying the elf, whose whole body was swollen, in a proper position, I examined my own state. —Until now, the way to learn how to handle the Deep Sea was simple. The burden would grow stronger, and I would ‘become able’ to do things. It is less a process of learning and more one of awakening an instinct.
Just as a duckling knows that the first thing it sees after breaking out of its egg is its mother, I too, am able to do it. Magic is different. Even if you gain enlightenment and your stars increase, that alone accomplishes nothing.
Becoming a 2-Star mage simply means I have obtained a 2-Star tool. Wielding it depends entirely on my own talent and knowledge.
‘... I don't know anything.’
And naturally, I know nothing about 2-Star magic. The only magic I know is elemental spells, and— —only the high-class magics that Ciel had given me, which he guaranteed I would one day learn. Even though I've become 2-Star, I don't dare attempt them.
‘Still, should I give it a try.’
Of course, there was no other way. Besides the elemental spells I knew, these were the only other things. I used the currents to feel for the book on my body and took it out, searching for a usable spell.
I found one along the way.
Thunder Wind.
It was a pure-offense spell that created a spear of wind like lightning by compressing wind to its limit and releasing it at the desired moment. Perhaps this could tear through the root.
I turned the page to look for the activation requirements. - 2-Star or higher Element: Wind - 4-Star or higher compression‑type magic (any kind) - 3-Star or higher telekinesis-type magic (difficult to use if the telekinesis is constructed from wind) "?" What is this supposed to mean?
After digging through the book a little, I understood the true nature of what was called high-class magic. The output was only at the level of a simple elemental spell. Everything else was a combination of elemental spells, and it meant combining those combinations as well.
"Aha." ...
I see.
Elemental spells are not magic. I finally understood something I had heard at some point. If I had to categorize it, elemental spells were nothing more than fuel.
If 1-Star was sesame oil, 2-Star felt like petroleum. That second condition, 4-Star or higher compression-type magic, is usually composed of one 3-Star magic and one 1-Star magic. The 3-Star magic within that is divided into a 2-Star and a 1-Star, and the 2-Star within that is divided into a 1-Star and a 1-Star.
It's absurd.
Thunder Wind was a pure-offense spell, so its combination formula was dozens of times simpler than other spells, yet it still required the simultaneous use of so many magics. It dawned on me just how mad high-level mages were. They cast a spell with every blink, which meant they were combining hundreds, even thousands of spells in that one second.
I could never do it. I couldn't even use this easiest spell, Thunder Wind. I sighed, placed the book on the floor, and was about to look for another way when— A spark suddenly ignited in my head. ...
No, wait. Compression-type, telekinesis-type?
"..."
I carefully reviewed the process once more. Draw out the maximum amount of wind possible, and rotate it. I did so.
A sharp, piercing wind howled through the quiet cavern. Becoming 2-Star had definitely increased the total amount of wind I could use. It must mean my world has grown stronger by resisting the burden.
With a feeling of slight satisfaction, I proceeded to the next step. Using compression-type magic, compress the wind. I don't have compression-type magic.
So I used water pressure. The wind filling the cavern was squeezed down to the size of my palm.
"Ugh..."
In the process, I too felt a pain as if my body was being crushed. But perhaps because my world had grown, it was bearable. The final step.
With telekinesis-type magic, create a path for the compressed wind to be fired. Simply letting it loose would make it a bomb that kills its master as well. Using the currents, I pierced through the compressed wind to launch its power at a single point, and then— —BOOM!!
"Keuk, ghh...!"
I made a mistake. The trajectory of the Thunder Wind grazed my skin slightly. Just that was enough to lightly tear the skin on the back of my hand.
I quickly used the currents to stop the bleeding— And I looked at what I had done.
"Hmm..."
The root was, of course, torn apart. It was more than that. The piece of root that had bound my hand was now stuck in the ceiling, and the mark where the Thunder Wind had savagely clawed the floor reached the end of the cavern.
Could this be... I opened the book and looked up the requirements for all the written spells. I was certain.
Almost every condition included telekinesis-type and compression-type. That wasn't all, but I now understood why Dersia had said I would learn these kinds of magics. This was—a collection of high-class magics that could be activated using my heart-realm magic.
To activate high-class magic, a combination of advanced form is needed. My Deep Sea magic can substitute for those advanced form. That's why with just a little fuel, I can activate them, albeit clumsily.
It wasn't perfect. It was a stopgap measure, like using tape where welding was needed, a method to crudely activate a spell that shouldn't be activated. But— —BOOM! —BOOM, KABOOM!
"This is useful..."
An increase in means is always a good thing. Especially in a dire situation like this. Now free, I stretched with a satisfied expression and looked up at the ceiling.
He told me to head up. It seems the time has come to protest her teaching methods.
Atop the World Tree. Linmel gritted her teeth and struck at a root, but she only managed to pierce its black outer layer.
Shhhk!
Taking advantage of the opening, other roots shot up from the ground and sharply descended upon her.
"... Hut!"
Linmel hastily tried to retrieve her sword, but it was a fatal mistake. The roots were too fast for something belonging to a plant. As Linmel, surrounded in all directions by roots in an instant, clenched her jaw, "Do not be afraid to abandon your weapon."
The shadow created by the rising roots vanished in an instant. What remained were piles of wood that had once been roots, bleeding sap like blood. Brimdal sheathed the sword he had swung and scowled at the grotesque roots still filling the plain.
"A weapon can be replaced, but your life cannot."
"She probably has no intention of killing."
Kicking away an approaching root and shattering it, Ciel muttered lightly as he looked up at the World Tree.
"However, I can feel a strong will to prevent anyone from approaching at all costs."
"Shaman, what did you say her scheme was?"
Brimdal asked Azrael with a slightly displeased expression. Azrael shrugged and answered.
"Said she's going to turn all the elves into Fallen just to save one disciple."
It wasn't the truth, but it was similar. Brimdal sighed and glared at the World Tree. Around it, thousands of roots, like earthworms, had already shot out, writhing and giving a warning.
One more step, and they would attack immediately.
"Why are you standing next to a madman like that?"
"Not everyone is perfect, you know. Everyone probably feels the urge to exterminate a species for no reason now and then."
"No one but you and your master feels such an urge. Tsk."
Brimdal clicked his tongue and glared at the base of the World Tree. This was not one of the simple-minded elves of the current era, but an elf with intelligence.
Brimdal knew.
The things elves had done in an age unknown to humans. That was why, while he couldn't affirm the way that shaman over there turned his own kind into beasts—he couldn't deny it either. 'I hope it doesn't change.'
A seed of anxiety sprouted in Brimdal's chest. It was unlikely, but if it did happen—he would have no choice but to give up on Jern. He was a subject that had made his heart race for the first time in a long while.
Shaking his head, he made his resolve and took a step forward.
"Shaman."
"What is it?"
"How many minutes would it take to reach him?"
"Hmm..."
After a moment of thought, Azrael shrugged his shoulders.
"It would take about 2 hours."
"Utterly incompetent. That slow?"
"You foolish dwarf... Do you have any idea how deep that boy named Jern is? I can't even imagine how many battles there will be on the way."
"The fact that I can confirm it will take less than 2 hours is proof of my competence."
"It's always the incompetent ones who talk the most."
"There's no talking to you. Fine. I'll finish it in 30 minutes."
Azrael shook his head and held up three fingers.
"Instead, draw out Dersia's true form. That should be more than enough."
Even as he spoke, Azrael knew it was impossible. A mage who has prepared for battle is stronger than one who has not. A mage who has taken control of the area is twice as strong as a mage who has prepared for battle.
And on top of that, the opponent is Dersia. No matter how advantageous a knight is against a mage, facing a 9-Star mage in such adverse conditions was not something a sane person would do.
"That's more like it."
But Brimdal scoffed and rested his sword on his shoulder.
"Rescue him before I kill her. Fighting while holding back isn't an easy task."
"... You crazy bastard."
Azrael was astonished, but he knew there was no bluff in Brimdal's words. With that level of confidence, there shouldn't be a major problem.
"Ciel, will you be able to help?"
"Yes."
Ciel answered, her hands clasped neatly. But Brimdal asked again in a slightly more serious tone.
"When I ask if you can help, I'm asking if you can punch your master in the face even if she orders you not to."
"Hmm..."
After a moment of thought, Ciel nodded with an ambiguous expression.
"I just thought about it, and I ended up beating my master until she passed out. It seems I need to restrain my anger a little."
"... That will suffice."
There certainly seemed to be no worry of betrayal.
"We have no time, so let's begin at once. If we give her any more time to prepare, it will become difficult."
Fortunately, Dersia had only taken control of the area and hadn't anticipated a battle, so there was no fierce resistance yet. Just as Ciel and Azrael also agreed and were about to move.
"I, I too...!"
"Hm?"
The excluded Linmel hurriedly stepped forward and pleaded.
"I want to go with you, too! I'll be helpful!"
"..."
The hand gripping her sword was trembling. Not from fear, but from anger. Her eyes held the anguish of failing to protect.
This was a look that knights who had failed to keep their oaths usually had, not one this young squire should have. Brimdal asked with a questioning look.
"Why? This is not your place to step in."
"Sir Brimdal... she is still a child."
"I am not trying to blame you. I am asking because I know you are not a squire so foolish as to not understand the disparity in strength."
She herself knew that she was weak, unable to face even a single one of those many roots. If so, why does she try to interfere instead of entrusting it to others? It was a question laden with that meaning, without any sugarcoating, but Linmel answered forthrightly.
"This is why I became a knight!"
"... What?"
"A Divine Punishment Knight, to be precise."
To protect mages. To protect Jern. She became a Divine Punishment Knight.
She knew she was weak. She could also understand that she wouldn't be of any help. However— "When it comes to saving Jern, I cannot be left out."
"... Hah."
Brimdal let out a short breath in disbelief. An oath to an individual. Wasn't that the kind of thing knights who were in a secret romance with a princess made, back in the romantic age of hundreds of years ago?
The genders were switched and their statuses were different. But the burning resolve in her eyes was the same. 'Knights never change.'
Brimdal narrowed his brow and patted Linmel's head.
"Forget it for today. From tomorrow, it shall be so."
"..."
Linmel's expression was very dissatisfied, but she could not disobey. After Brimdal and Ciel left, Azrael cleared his throat to draw Linmel's attention.
"Ahem, what are you going to do now? I'm going to save your boyfriend."
Perhaps because he was a shaman, he was quick-witted. Linmel did not deny it and looked at the World Tree with a firm expression.
"I'm going to save him, even if I have to do it alone."
"Know your place. Don't think of getting caught and becoming a burden."
"... You!"
Being rejected so many times, even Linmel couldn't help but get angry. Forcibly swallowing the tears that welled up in her eyes, she stomped her foot, drew her sword, and was about to charge towards the swarming roots.
"I'll handle it myself, so grandpa, please hurry and save Jern!"
"Ahem, ahem..."
Just as she was about to do something truly reckless, Azrael stopped Linmel with an insinuating voice.
"Well, you see, what would you do if I told you that your help is needed to save that arrogant brat?"
"... Pardon?"
They were magical words she had truly wanted to hear. Stopping in an instant, Azrael put on a grave expression and said.
"If you help save Jern, we might be able to shorten the time considerably. To about 20 minutes?"
"B-but I'm... weak."
Weak.
Only after spitting out those words did she realize. She was weak. At the academy, she was always the strongest.
Since becoming a knight, she had never lost a single duel. But—it was all against those of the same age, or at most a few years older. She had been the strongest in that small pond.
Outside in the world, she was so very weak. She couldn't protect Jern... Before the strength left her hand gripping the sword, Azrael's voice slyly drew her in.
"You might be able to do it, hmm..."
"Do what?"
"Your talent is one of the century, acknowledged by that crazy dwarf knight."
"Talent alone doesn't do anything..."
She'd heard it so many times—that her talent was outstanding, incredible. But what was the use of that? No matter how brightly her future self shone, what meaning did it have?
When right now, at the most important moment, it was completely useless.
"Not so."
Azrael smiled slyly and took out a black poison from his pocket that looked dangerous at first glance. — "Would you perhaps like to experience it?"
"Ex-experience what?"
Towards Linmel, who instinctively took a step back, the grimly smiling Azrael threw out an offer she couldn't refuse.
"Your future self, who can perfectly wield that talent."