There are moments when staring at a revolting scene brings on a headache all on its own. If you don’t miss that window and fix your eyes on a body part — an arm, a leg — it starts to feel like a grotesque creature that needs to be killed right then and there.
At that point, you slash at the body like a person gone mad, or you strangle yourself.
When it’s all over, all that remains is your own battered, bleeding form and a Dark Magic that has grown one step stronger.
So then — how does one treat a body broken nearly to the point of death? Healing Magic draws on magical power at its core. In other words, the efficiency was poor.
So Terren spent money. The 300 gold Leopold had personally pressed into his hands. He bought healing potions — the kind so expensive that only high-ranking nobles could afford to own a few.
Pour a potion into a body hovering at the edge of death, then cast Healing Magic — and Terren Meyer’s body would return to what it was before.
With only the strengthened Dark Magic remaining.
Repeating this process, Terren was able to grow strong enough over summer break to satisfy his master.
And so he visited the Precipice again.
Terren began to exchange words with Yuhan, Arnold, and a handful of other Dark Sorcerers. Among them, the master’s closest confidants and key figures were Yuhan and Arnold. Yuhan was an information broker, and Arnold was the world’s sorcerer and healer who had set the Terren of his past life on the path of Dark Magic.
He struck a deal with the Dark Sorcerer Arnold. After Daniel died, Arnold was the one who took over his duties — and his assigned role was luring people to the Precipice. He quietly let slip information about the Precipice while trafficking in drugs and money.
When people were brought into the Precipice thanks to Arnold, the master would assess their usefulness. Those deemed useless were killed and offered as sacrifices; those deemed useful were made into his subordinates.
The selection of Precipice members was an exceptionally painstaking process. The master only entrusted work to those he could trust. Which meant getting close to Arnold was an absolute necessity. So Terren chose a means of drawing closer to his trading partner: the counterfeit healing potion he himself had invented.
This was where the experience of his past life came into use. The counterfeit healing potion he had developed in his previous life produced only about one-tenth the effect of the real thing, and Arnold would take ten of Terren’s fakes and hand over one genuine potion — or an equivalent sum of money — in return.
Terren Meyer set his goals. First: kill at least one Dark Sorcerer before the year was out. Second: properly lay protective magic throughout the Academy.
Money could be accumulated in sufficient quantities through his dealings with Arnold, and powerful protective magic was something he could begin developing from now.
Terren intended to put his second plan into motion after the break ended. He planned to invent a magic circle that combined Dark Magic with ordinary magic to produce a formidable effect.
So there he was — attending classes all day, completing assignments, and spending every remaining hour poring over books to continue his research into ordinary magic — when it began.
Leopold Delua’s interference.
And in the most relentless fashion imaginable.
Terren had no friends. Friends — what a thought. There wasn’t even a soul at the Academy who saw him as a person.
So wasn’t it only natural? Whether it was swordsmanship class or anything else, whenever a moment arose that called for a fellow student’s help, Terren Meyer had long grown accustomed to preparing for evaluations on his own — or, when time allowed, tucking himself into a corner and burying his face in a book.
Today was no different. Earlier, Leopold had said something about sparring together — nonsense, as far as Terren was concerned — but he hadn’t thought much of it.
Today, as on every other day, Terren swung his sword a few times and then found his mind drifting back to the book he’d left half-read — On Large-Scale Magic Circles and Ancient Magic — and he drifted quietly toward the corner, dropped down, and opened it.
When he came back to himself, however, it wasn’t the book filling his vision.
It was a pair of glittering blue eyes.
“What are you doing? Come here.”
Leopold had personally crouched down in front of him to meet his eyes, speaking in a low, even voice. Terren startled badly enough to let out a short cough.
“Didn’t you agree to spar with me?”
“……”
Sharp looks stabbed in from all around again. Not just one or two people. Terren shot back with a look that said get out of my face.
“I’m busy. Spar with someone else.”
“No. I want to spar with you.”
He stood and extended his hand. When Terren turned away, Leopold grabbed his arm and pulled him along by force.
The instant Terren Meyer went to wrench himself free, a flash of dread struck him — the fear that every last person in the Academy might descend on him with intent to kill. That split second of hesitation was all it took. Before he knew it, he was being dragged along by Leopold.
“Let’s begin.”
When he came to his senses, he was standing in front of Leopold with his sword drawn. The students who had been stealing glances gathered around them.
“……”
Why does it keep happening.
Why do I keep ending up in situations like this.
Terren regarded his own stupidity with something close to awe. Not even the greatest fool would put themselves in a situation like this.
And it wasn’t just once or twice — ever since his regression, one unexpected thing after another kept happening. If the Terren of his past life could see him now, he would realize at once that he’d gone mad and would certainly have ended himself.
Leopold’s blond hair fell loose and natural, drifting on the breeze. He smiled and murmured:
“Don’t worry. I won’t let you be humiliated.”
Terren bristled and shot back sharply:
“You never change, Your Highness. Do you think I’d be pleased to hear that you’re going easy on me?”
“…What’s wrong now.”
“Never mind. Do as you like.”
Leopold’s face went slightly pale. He quickly shifted his tone, suddenly careful:
“All right, I’ll give it my all. Does that work?”
Honestly, that was strange too.
Since when had that arrogant prince ever tried this hard to keep Terren from taking offense? He wasn’t even sure anymore whether this had always been Leopold’s nature.
Even so, he had enough sense to read a situation. Which meant he recognized just how much Leopold was holding back.
Terren had been far harsher in this life than in his past one. He’d crossed lines that would have earned him a beheading a hundred times over. The only thing that had improved was his mental maturity. And yet — here they were, at a point where they could actually speak to each other — and Terren couldn’t tell anymore whether this was reality or some kind of illusion.
Leopold declared with a resolute expression:
“I genuinely won’t hold back. Sure you won’t regret it?”
“Oh, I’ll regret it. Starting with the sight of myself standing here doing this with you.”
“Ah… I see.”
Terren watched Leopold let out a short, dry smile. Then, with an unsettling air of calm, Leopold tightened his grip on his sword. Not a practice sword — a real blade. Live steel was the one thing permitted during sparring.
Terren Meyer immediately regretted everything. He could already see it clearly: getting thoroughly beaten and mocked by the students for it.
“Begin.”
Having no desire whatsoever to begin, Terren gave a small jerk of his chin as if to say you go first.
This too must have come across as insufferably rude to everyone watching, because Terren let the insults drifting into his ears wash over him without reaction — the usual litany about dirty, disgusting, despicable Terren Meyer.
Leopold shrugged with the air of someone whose pride had been stung. Then he immediately raised his sword and charged.
A flashing blade swept past Terren’s eyes. Without thinking, Terren ducked his head and dodged.
In the same breath, he twisted to the side to dodge the second strike — and without a moment to think, raised his own sword to block the third.
Clang — the sound of steel meeting steel rang out.
The longsword Terren was using wasn’t his. It was Academy property. He didn’t use a weapon like that in the first place. The only blade he handled was the assassination dagger he kept hidden on his person.
So wasn’t it only natural that he’d lose? What was remarkable was that Terren Meyer managed to block three attacks at all — but after that, he was thoroughly, mercilessly beaten. He barely ducked in time to keep his head, only to have a lock of hair sheared off; he lost his grip on the sword; and then he hit the ground.
Laughter rippled through the crowd. In a thoroughly foul mood, Terren slapped away the hand Leopold offered him. He sat there in the dirt for a moment, listening to the jeering without expression, then picked himself up.
Terren said through gritted teeth:
“Your Highness has won.”
The watching students snickered.
“What an eyesore.”
“Pathetic. Why Leopold ever agreed to spar with that one.”
“Obvious, isn’t it? He clearly wanted to humiliate him.”
“Got what he deserved. Couldn’t even hold on for a few exchanges before going down like that.”
“Damn — Terren Meyer just made eye contact with me.”
“Congratulations. Your luck’s shot for a while.”
When Terren disappeared back into his corner, the students slowly lost interest and turned back to their own practice.
Terren rolled his wrist — sore from the strain of crossing swords with Leopold.
Then he dropped down where he stood and opened the book he’d been reading. He sank back into the magic circle text.
Large-scale magic circles — he had deployed one once in his past life. He’d studied them simply to move large objects around with ease. He’d only ever scaled up summoning magic before, so now he needed to research protective magic.
Protective magic. Could a magic circle for that be expanded to a massive scale?
For instance, laid across an entire Academy, an entire royal palace — or even, perhaps, a person?
The most advanced book the Academy had on the subject was this one and nothing more. It explained the underlying principles in thorough detail, but something felt lacking. Even so, this much was more than nothing. Terren turned each word over slowly and sat with his thoughts.
And then —
“I knew it.”
The range of ancient magic covers roughly one entire estate — wait, hold on —
Terren snapped his head up, and the same sight as before played out in front of him once again. That insufferable sight. Leopold — right there in front of him.
