“Let’s try one more.”
“.......”
It was a pure white room. From the floor to the walls to the sky, everything was a pure white space. In that room, Ezekiel and Rebecca were training magic.
Crackle, crackle—
Lightning flickered from Rebecca’s fingertips as she closed her eyes and concentrated.
“...This is hard.”
“Of course it’s hard. But you can do it. This is the last one, just one more!”
Rebecca’s lips twisted. She could handle physical exhaustion as much as needed, but mental exhaustion felt different. Mana was the power to realize will. Once it was depleted, the force that broke one’s will became intense. It felt like being told to endure a boyfriend’s whining one more time after months of already enduring it. Like being ordered to tolerate it just once more, even after dozens of times already. Of course, there wasn’t anyone who whined like that, and she didn’t have a boyfriend either......
Anyway, it made her want to die rather than do it.
“Focus!”
“.......”
Fuck, seriously... she muttered, then focused. Gripping her willpower, like it was crumbling leaves at the base of her soul, she gave it strength.
Pip—
A small thread formed above Rebecca’s two hands. Creating a ‘base particle’. It was a success.
Drip.
At the same time, blood began to flow from her nose. A double nosebleed, at that. She didn’t even think of lifting her hand to wipe it. Then, with another drip, blood began to stream from her eyes.
“.......”
Rebecca slowly collapsed to her knees and buried her face into the floor.
“Are you all right? That’s enough for today. Drink a potion.”
“.......”
She shook her head with her face still planted against the white floor. The helplessness she felt now was even more intense than what she’d felt back when she was on the verge of death.
Drizzle—
With no other option, Ezekiel poured potion on the back of her head (it absorbed through the skin) and turned his head to look around the white room.
‘.......’
He was in complete shock right now.
‘Ordinary people can manipulate ten base particles at most, and talented individuals can handle twenty or thirty.’
And Ezekiel, as a grand ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) mage, was a genius. When he first created base particles, he had made more by himself than any of the kids in that classroom. That number was five hundred. From that day, both Ezekiel and everyone around him never doubted he was destined to become a grand mage.
‘But this.......’
Ezekiel moved a single base particle and raised it toward the sky. Into the empty corner of the white ceiling. Then a thread stretched out and filled the corner.
Forty across. Forty down. Forty high. Meaning the number of base particles Rebecca had created was 40³ – 38³.
‘9,136.’
His heart dropped at that number. It didn’t feel real.
If five hundred was enough to declare someone a prodigy grand mage, then what did you call someone who created 9,136?
“Why didn’t I ever recognize this talent of yours?”
It wasn’t until the next day that they were able to have a conversation. Rebecca lay on the couch, unwashed, barely able to open her heavy eyelids.
“...Am I doing well?”
“You are.”
“...Mm.”
“No, not just well. You’re a genius. No, even that word falls short. There is no magician in this world with greater talent than you.”
“.......”
Even in her lethargy, Rebecca’s eyes lost their focus a little.
“...This is the first time. You... complimenting me...”
“I said you were pretty, didn’t I?”
“...That kind of thing doesn’t count...”
“Is that so. Well, if I’d known you had this kind of talent, I would’ve praised you since childhood. And it’s not just talent. Normally, it takes surpassing overcharge by two levels for your eye vessels to burst. That’s not something done through ordinary willpower.”
“...I see.”
Rebecca closed her eyes.
“The golden rat, Professor Dante, I told him about this too. He was very pleased. He said no one else but you could’ve done it.”
Her eyes, which had closed, opened faintly. Rebecca looked up at the ceiling with unfocused eyes, then gave a faint smile.
“...As if he’d know anything......”
She came to her senses a bit more by the following evening.
“Where is Professor Dante?”
“Why?”
“Just because.”
“Want to show him your magic?”
“...I told you. Just because.”
Rebecca avoided eye contact as she spoke.
'What the hell, this brat...?'
It felt oddly irritating, but he decided to let it slide.
“Who knows. By now, he’s probably at the Soltia Conference beyond the Illusory Forest.”
“The Illusory Forest... I read about that in a book.”
Ezekiel knew it too. It was a staple setting in movies and novels loved by kids. A place said to have many romantic encounters.
“My nanny once told me she wanted to go to the Illusory Forest.”
“What nanny do you have?”
“My father’s nanny. You should understand what I meant.”
If she was Hiaka III’s nanny, then she was also Ezekiel’s.
“Why would your nanny want to go to the Illusory Forest? Even as an old hag, she must still want a romantic encounter.”
“Uncle. Don’t say stuff like that.”
Rebecca widened her eyes a bit. Then said, “Ah.”
“Now that I think about it, my nanny told me something else when I was little.”
“What did she say?”
“She said I looked like I’d be good at magic.”
“.......”
“Back then I didn’t get what she meant, but now... I wish I’d listened to her.”
There’s no meaning in regrets after the fact, but there are things you only realize once they’ve passed—things you come to regret precisely because they’re over.
Could her nanny’s insight have surpassed even his own?
“...Wait.”
“Yeah?”
Then something came to Ezekiel’s mind. When the three of them had been together with Dante—he remembered the nanny’s face had gone pale.
Anyone else, he might’ve dismissed it. But that guy—he was the golden rat. It had nagged at him, so he’d asked her about it later.
What did the nanny say?
“I... when I was young... I had a crush on someone who looked exactly like him.”
At the time, that over-100-year-old woman had worn a surprisingly girlish smile.
Then she shook her head and said she must’ve been mistaken.
“But... that person died nearly a hundred years ago......”
***
Kaang!!
After deflecting the weapon, Eve’s blade hovered right at the neck of the assassin named Hessian.
“Kugh! Damn...!”
The man raised both hands. But Eve didn’t stab. To be precise, she couldn’t stab. Because she didn’t want to stab. And because she had spoken with the human, and he had told her it was okay not to.
“.......”
So Eve withdrew her sword and gestured: ‘Bad.’
“What?”
“.......”
You. Bad person. You attacked the human. Why?
“What are you saying? Damn it... now!”
“??,,"
The next moment, smoke burst out, and Hessian and two other assassins were already fleeing off into the distance. And if an assassin ran, there was no way Eve could catch them.
Thus, Eve was left standing alone in the middle of the Illusory Forest.
“.......”
She looked around. Trees towering 50 meters high stood thick all around, and beneath them snow was falling. Despite the snowy terrain, the forest was filled with fog. Even with Eve’s superhuman vision, visibility barely extended to fifty meters.
When separated like this, the human had told her to go toward where people were. And Eve, following her senses, knew which direction that was.
Eve began to run in that direction. Thoughtlessly. But that was normal—she didn’t usually think that much to begin with.
As she ran for some time, beyond the fog, large and small forms started to emerge and vanish in the distance. Some looked like small animals, others like whales. None of them felt threatening.
It was like encountering a bear while wandering in the mountains. They’d glance at each other, then go their own way.
As she was running in a daze like that, Eve suddenly had to stop.
Something was approaching from far beyond the fog. A pitch-black humanoid figure.
“......??”
Eve came to a halt. The approaching presence felt oddly familiar.
She slowly, cautiously approached it. Though fifty meters wasn’t far, because her steps were so careful, it took some time to get close.
Gradually, the shadow in the fog began to take shape.
“.......”
At last, what appeared was a man with curly hair and pink eyes.
Shockingly, it was the human.
“.......”
“.......”
The human saw her and walked toward her.
With a bright smile.
“Hi.”
As his mouth moved, Eve also gestured ‘Hi’ with her hand, and was about to smile and walk toward him—but after taking one step, she hesitated.
Because he was smiling brightly.
The human.
“???”
...The human is smiling brightly??
***
Who is Chief Professor Cain?
It had long been a question scholars everywhere wondered.
Who was this man who, without any known name, could perform such grand illusions?
What was his true identity?
How old was he?
Who was his teacher...?
Because of this, students from Hiaka Academy were often asked, “Do you know Chief Cain?”
No one could answer. Because no one knew.
There had been a rumor—that Chief Professor Cain was younger than expected.
The source wasn’t clear, but the rumor had originated in the Empire and spread by word of mouth. By now, it was considered common belief.
‘Cain is a young genius.’
But ‘young’ was relative.
To older professors, a ‘young genius’ meant someone in their forties. Someone who might have a thick mustache, but still smooth, supple skin.
And now, finally—
The genius who had carried the curiosity of countless professors, politicians, and citizens on his back had revealed himself.
“Hehe...”
Trying to overcome the awkwardness, he scratched his cheek with a shy laugh. A face around ten years old.
‘...Cute.’
No.
This wasn’t the time for such thoughts in such an important setting.
And yet...
As sharp gazes poured in, Chief Cain averted his eyes slightly—but when his gaze met someone else’s, he gave them a small, awkward, hunched bow.
‘C-u-t-e.’
He was cute. And polite, too!
Even the old and grumpy professors who looked down on anyone not their own bloodline like they were monkeys—even they were struck by how shockingly adorable the boy named Chief Cain was.
“Shall we, Chief?”
“Yes...”
When Professor Dante extended his hand, the boy took it with his small one and followed along.
At that point, some were confused, others clicked their tongues.
Perhaps this was some sort of deception or trickery. How could a child like that wield grand structural illusion magic?
“We will now begin the Soltia Conference.”
But under the supervision of Chairman Tirangstein, the conference began. After the guides were handed out to everyone, and the list of presenters was revealed—with the name ‘Chief Cain’ printed boldly—many of the scholars tilted their heads when they saw the title of his paper.
"The End of Illusion: A Proposal on the Generalized, Irreversible, and Permanent Decomposition Formula of Long-Term Supernatural Perception Forgery."
They frowned and tilted their heads, staring at the back of the child’s head.
What the hell was that insane title?
What kind of nonsense was being spoken here?
“......?”
And when eye contact was made, the child once again awkwardly ducked his head—and an elder professor, before he realized it, bowed slightly back in response.
Still, the paper’s title was bizarre.
Too bizarre.
Unbelievably...