The following is a diary entry.
[xx.xx.xxx]
After making the trip to Sturmkamm early in the morning, I spent most of the day settling the Academy's affairs in the city, as well as providing help requested of me, which, as with every trip, usually boiled down to either providing advise to the ongoing mission of tracking down those few lesser demons who escaped the battle, or mediating.
Hexe argued yesterday that she could fulfill her duties again and go in my stead, but even without the priest's request to let her rest for at least another week, I could see her struggling to move around. Her health aside, the annoying requests for me to help with things were also directed at my person because of my recent reputation as the savior of the city; Hexe might not have been able to serve as a proper substitute.
That, and my reputation still hovered very much between 'heroic' and 'questionable' depending on who you asked, mostly on account of Aura's fate being common knowledge. For that reason alone, it was worthwhile to do busywork and be around people to allay any subconscious worries, rather than hole up in my workshop. Even I understood this much.
It's hard for me to properly express my feelings and thoughts on paper post factum, mostly because my visit to the city, as always, is a mix of dull annoyances and anger. There are some interesting things, I suppose, such as this odd vintage magical item I spotted when passing through the market, but even for this journal, that exists to document my emotions, it wasn't something worth mentioning.
I suppose I should mention that it was jarring to see the city so lively and active a mere week after the battle, even if it makes sense once I think about it.
Aura had no opportunity to inflict any casualties worth mentioning, at least numerically speaking, and whatever damage the city sustained was localized to a few engagement sites. The Valley Guard performed the almost impossible task of evacuating everyone from the villages Aura had passed through; there hasn't been a single 'civilian' casualty attributed to her force reported to this day, as far as I know.
All together it meant that outside of having to move out and come back, most people were barely affected physically or materially.
Some incidents of marauding aside, things went to normal remarkably quickly once the citizens came back. Granted, what I can observe and am willing to see is limited, but something in how I had perceived the crisis before found this odd.
I naturally moved past this impression quickly, my psyche being rather quick to adapt as always, but it's worth taking the note of that conflict.
The battle has given me a lot of insight into myself, I had a lot to introspect during prayer ever since. The previous few days' entries hold some records of the thoughts I arrived at during those sessions. And here is another one such revelation, I managed to connect the dots today, when seeing the city flourish so quickly and finding myself conflicted.
The cause for that conflict wasn't hard to find ones I thought of it.
It's a silly notion, but I suppose I expected some more gravitas after the fact, for the world to pause and take in the clash that happened. Aura and I are both, essentially, young upstarts amongst Greater Demons, and yet that battle was fought at the scale at which ancient monstrosities fight, from what I understand. That is to say, it was genuinely the sort of battle that are rarely fought. I suppose I expected someone to take notice.
Irrational thought, and one based on foolish pride besides. For most of the defenders of the city, even if the scale of our battle was five times smaller, it still would have appeared as an unfathomable clash between legendary figures beyond the scope of their imagination.
The understanding of how massive this battle had been, of the terror of the forces involved, was for the educated few, most of whom were my fellow mages.
It's a confusing thing, and I still don't believe I've fully untangled my thoughts and emotions on it; in the coming days I may come back to this.
In any case, then there was the matter of the official funerals, which were the big event of today. In hindsight, writing this, I think Hexe might have wanted to go with me into the city to attend those. The thought never even occurred to me as we spoke; to me those were the tedious, unnecessary rituals needed to not alienate the people of the region further.
The procedure was all official; there were talks of a proper memorial being commissioned, and there was a burial service itself for those who died in the defence of the city, with an entire ceremony, friends and families saying their goodbyes. A small parade too, as well as a few minutes of silence.
I am not relaying this in proper order, but in my defense, I spent a considerable amount of time using Resonant Soul on my vision to go over my latest research notes, and missed a lot of it.
All sorts of people of import were requested to make speeches, including myself.
The whole experience was quite frustrating to me.
I think the reasoning is manifold; partially, it's because I try my best to live according to the commandments and the Bible, at least as much as I am able, so being confronted with a situation that requires me to lie through my expressions and words is not enjoyable, even if the lie in question is 'merely' faking an emotion and only breaching what the teachings ask of me in spirit. I know, logically, that it's the best course of action, as I do it for friends and families of those who perished, and because not conforming to even such a basic expectation as grief and sorrow leads to colossal potential problems for the Academy and me personally. Especially considering that my reputation is already tarnished by Aura's mere continued breathing, and that seeds of distrust can easily be sown. And yet, attending a spectacle where I am forced to lie for conformity is not enjoyable; it's precisely the situation I swear to avoid each time I repent of my missteps.
I am not 'upset' at having moral failures; I am incapable of being upset at such a thing. But my psyche treats this as a failure in a game, or a competition even if only against oneself, so the resulting emotion is somewhat unpleasant.
There is also my general frustration at dealing with highly emotional huma(crossed out) people. Those are the feelings I documented many times before. Yet, for clarity, I shall repeat it. It is frustrating seeing people experience emotions I struggle so hard to come into possession of. Even if those emotions are negative, all I feel is powerful jealousy and impotent anger.
The last, if the least important, point here is my general sense of dissatisfaction over which people ended up among the deceased. As is par for the course for demon psychology, I generally get over any loss quickly, and don't have many lingering feelings. Anger is brief, loss of something tangible is brief, sense of failure is brief. This is fundamentally why demons rarely carry emotional grudges.
However, this only works when a demon isn't constantly reminded of and confronted with the unwanted fact. The whole funeral procession and the ritual feast afterwards were one such reminder that I had lost access to convenient allies who provided me with many tangible benefits.
Ahnungslos had always been an incredibly pleasant man to work with. He easily anticipated my needs and wants, and never pushed too far nor wasted my time. Revelation about his dealings with Aura's pet demon -that I wrote about four days ago- that I received from interrogating Aura herself didn't matter to that emotional perception. My psyche still does not deal with morals. And intellectually, I am not capable of judging the morality of men; this is something I decided upon long ago and have held to ever since. The only thing that caused an emotion was the loss of a useful opportunity that wore a human face.
I felt similarly in regard to Berg and Zaudern. That they were useful people; shame they are no more.
[A thoroughly crossed out section of the text.]
I found myself going off on too much of a tangent, because I know you have a habit of reading these from time to time, and I am tired of explaining.
Talking about this further is redundant. In case you are reading this, Hexe, I reiterate: the third point described above is the least impactful for me. It's nothing like a sense of loss a human would feel.
To put it in simple terms, Berg being dead bothers me less than the prospect of interacting with his wife and daughters again in any capacity that isn't strictly professional, and I know I will have to do so to honor his request to look after them if nothing else.
Then there is the meeting with Neugieri that seem about to commence-
…
I finished writing the last couple of words right on time. I've been sensing the approaching pair for a while through their mana, and I managed to finish right as they stopped by the door.
Rented as it was, the room I occupied was one of the nicest on the second floor of the tavern; despite my insistence it wasn't necessary, Berg's wife, who now owned the establishment, insisted I be given it.
I reached out with a simple telekinetic spell, applying it to the handle and the lock both, opening the door.
"You can come in, Neugieri," I offered, not bothering to stand up from the desk. "Thank you for showing her here, Fest," I added, addressing one of Berg's daughters.
The dwarf in question was dressed in good-quality working attire and was, expectedly, a small but broad young woman, with a surprisingly timid temperament.
"A-ah, not a big deal or 'nothin," I could hear embarrassment in the tone. "You two need anything or…?"
"No, thank you," I said, as I finished cleaning the nib, turning around. "I believe both of us would appreciate some privacy, however."
The young dwarven woman spared a glance at Neugieri, then at me, but nodded firmly, giving a practiced short bow, and retreated.
The moment she had stepped far enough away, I wove an illusion to muffle sound and layered it over the room.
"Do come in," I offered, remaining seated. I judged I would look less threatening this way. "Your visit is unexpected, but a pleasant surprise."
The mental mage, objectively, looked better. The haggard, haunting look that she had that night was gone; her eyes were clearer, if laser-focused on me, and, naturally, fresh clothes, good water, food, and baths helped her looks tremendously.
Unlike other captives of Aura, Neugieri was cared for as much as demons understood such a thing; they made sure she got her share of food and water, and she didn't have any wounds that could have festered. For that reason alone, she was probably the only person among those Aura had captured who wasn't consigned to bed rest, at least briefly.
She had spent the majority of her time since the battle in the hospital by Hanseln's side, and with Hexe. At least until Hexe moved back to the Academy, feverishly cursing me for not preserving the dragon corpse and the ingredients inside it as well as she would've liked.
Apparently, the carcass was useful to her work at all only because the temperature outside was below freezing, so even without additional help it preserved well.
"Pleasant?" she asked, her voice calculatedly neutral, or so she likely thought. I saw conflicting emotions in her body language, suppressed, of course. Irritation, distaste, a touch of genuine curiosity.
"Hexe assured me you only needed time, and I had nothing to worry about. That I should have faith." I allowed myself to shrug. "Those words, as you may imagine, can assure a being of my nature only to a point. Potentially having to run away from this region with only what I have on my person remained a fairly likely possibility," I explained patiently. "You are here, alone, late in the evening. Considering our meeting could've involved you trying to kill my reputation, or me, I consider this rather pleasant, and promising."
I chose my words carefully and took my time answering her, trying to be as truthful as I could be, to show her the logic, if nothing else.
Neugieri considered me with a complicated look - too many emotions for me to easily read. Annoying.
"I see," she said, likely just to say something.
For a while, complete and utter silence lingered.
"It's like I thought, I don't understand you at all." When Neugieri spoke up, her voice was small. It sounded like someone too overwhelmed to speak clearly. "Understanding how a demon thinks is futile. I know this, I know this better than anyone, and yet…"
She shook her head, breathing out, and visibly collecting herself.
"If it's the dissonance from how I acted during the funerals, I apologize," I said slowly, measuring my words. "Apologize for the discomfort it caused, that is. The deception, as you realize, was intentional, even if I can argue to myself -and to you- that it was done out of genuine consideration of everyone's interests…" I paused. "On second thought, ignore what I just said; hearing a creature like myself justify it is probably rather unbearable to you."
I noticed Neugieri being slightly taken aback by me suddenly cutting myself off, even if she tried to hide it, and something in me felt triumphant.
I brushed the feeling aside as I usually did.
"There are things of actual import I need to clarify with you," I continued instead, forcing myself to focus on the here and now, rather than some imaginary victories that only my psyche could see, "I assume for now - and you may correct me - that you decided against revealing my nature as a demon to the people of Sturmkamm. For which you have my intellectual gratitude, for whatever little it is worth." I did an abstract finger gesture, as if waving the matter away. "I, however, have to ask if you are going to disclose what I am to Serie."
Neugieri didn't exactly shrink, nor truly go tense; it was more as if she collected herself. Her hands, resting on the mage staff she carried, brought it a bit closer to her chest, and her shoulders drew together somewhat.
"What would you do… if I refused?" Neugieri asked after a moment of consideration.
"To you? Nothing," I said plainly, and before she could react, I raised my palm and patiently explained: "You don't have to believe my good intentions; it's a matter of a behavioral pattern. I had multiple opportunities to kill you or silence you; and you informing Serie was a threat I was always conscious of, yet I didn't make use of that opportunity. Nor did I use Aura. The exact reasons why aren't important; if you do not believe me, voicing them will be a waste of air. If you assume I am merely a demon no different from the rest of my own kin with my own plan, those words mean nothing, but behavior does," I continued. "Now, after arguing the case of my honesty in regards to your life being under no threat, let me answer the implied question. The reason I am even asking is because if you do answer positively, and I were to believe it true, I would need to start preparing to be on the run from the Great Mage from now on. That would change my immediate plans substantially."
Neugieri's eyebrows slowly rose during my explanation, until she looked genuinely bewildered.
"You don't believe you can convince master?" she asked, a barely perceptible smile on her face.
I shook my head.
"I strongly suspect I will be unable to, yes, but there are two important caveats to this matter," I explained, lifting up two fingers. Slowly, I folded one. "One is that Great Mage Serie lived for so long that I never found a source that would name how old she is. It is over a millennium, however. Creatures like her can't possibly view the world like you, or even like I. I imagine to them everything that happens in the world is riddled with patterns of events they have seen before, and seen the outcome of. I have no doubt that there were demons who played the 'long game' before. I have no doubt it ended tragically for all humans, dwarves and elves who placed any amount of trust in them, and I have no doubt that Serie will be aware of such events. The proof that my goals and methods pose no danger will be competing with those tangible life experiences, and I am not willing to bet my life on winning this confrontation." I then folded the second finger. "The other thing is that I do not want to confront her in person in any capacity. There are three outcomes here. Outcome one: I can convince her and things return to the way they have always been… maybe she can provide some targeted help to my goals if she is inclined, which I doubt. Outcome two: I fail to convince her but the resulting skirmish allows me to escape. Naturally, the remaining eventuality is that I fail to convince her and I am killed. No matter what, pragmatically speaking, confronting her is idiotic; the risk is too great, and the benefits are not worth it." I shared.
Djinn or not, I harbour no illusions about my chances in a battle against a creature like Serie.
Neugieri merely stared at me for a few long moments.
"The way you speak right now… is sort of annoying," she said, sounding somewhat flustered that she even had to say it.
I blinked slowly, visually displaying a moment of confusion I briefly felt.
"I merely wished to be as clear as I could be. So you can understand the underlying justification and logic and not only the answer," I explained, seeing the mage was not very satisfied with the response.
"It sounds like you are chewing things out for a particularly dull student in one of your classes," she explained blandly.
I paused, considering her words.
"Wasn't my intention to insu-"
Neugieri groaned.
"I know! I know! Stop explaining! Goddess…" She shook her head. "Demons aren't some creatures of perfect logic, Albert. I know that you are driven by emotions much like every other living thing. You don't have to pretend to be a golem with a set of logical instructions setting direction to your every move," she spoke heatedly, raising a finger up, and seemed pretty absorbed in the explanation. I really wished to interrupt her for a moment to tell her that I wasn't exactly pretending, but found no opening, "The conflict is that your emotions are unlike ours in most ways. Do you think hearing you talk detached from any emotion, bringing explanations that are only logical, would somehow assure anyone who understands anything about demons? If anything, if I didn't know better, I would think you are definitely lying and just thinking of a convenient logical excuse for whatever you did, driven by whatever goals and desires and…"
She paused, breathing in, before pointing a finger at me.
"...you understand what I mean!"
Oddly enough, I did. Despite her words coming out like a waterfall, in a single breath, what she said made an odd amount of sense.
"But never mind all of that," she declared, visibly composing herself, before clearing her throat, "A-hem, Albert, you also seem to be missing the fact that, as you correctly point out, I came here to talk with you. Alone." Her eyes met mine once again. For the untold time throughout this conversation. "I don't know how you missed the part where this must mean that you… are not an enemy."
I closed my eyes for a moment, folding my hands over my chest, still sitting in the chair, considering it all.
"It's not that I 'missed' this. It's merely that I am not willing to make assumptions that large," I offered, once again snapping my eyes open and meeting her gaze. "I would say that amongst demons I understand humans… no, people, the best. But because of that, I know I could've easily missed something when considering your motivation to come here. Even human men notoriously have trouble understanding women's hearts; I am definitely no better," I attempted to explain. "That said, again, what you are saying is reassuring. How much has Hexe told you?"
Neugieri slowly blinked.
"She… didn't tell you?"
For a moment, we stared at each other. Then, Neugieri sighed as realization settled in. I would have sighed with her if my body had a reflex like that.
Still, out of solidarity if nothing else, I nodded to that.
Hexe truly was an infuriating woman sometimes.
"She said you have her complete trust, and that I should question you personally, since her retellings would only ruin things," Neugieri offered, rubbing her temples. "She did, however, tell me of how you two met."
"On my end, she only told me that 'things went well', and that 'I should have faith that Neugieri won't ignore the reality of what happened'," I explained in turn. "Which sounds like a pointless assurance, but it isn't." I paused, thinking how to phrase it. "I have a tendency to get self-conscious when trying to predict an emotional reaction of someone I don't completely understand. I know full well how irrational people can be, and with situations involving high stress and trauma, it's incredibly hard for me to tell how likely an irrational reaction would be."
I could see that Neugieri wasn't exactly pleased at my explanation, no doubt grasping to whose trauma I alluded, but nodded nonetheless.
"Good thing the introduction is over…" She paused, seemingly unsure how to proceed.
So did I.
For a moment, we were simply there, staring at one another.
"Would you… would you mind explaining? About yourself? You said you had some proofs in case you had to convince master?"
I wished I could sigh without it being a misdirection.
"That isn't exactly what I said, but I understand what you are alluding to, and yes, there is both a paper trail proving what I am working for and how, and my curse, which can demonstrate my sincerity." I saw her growing skeptical and somewhat wary, so I just waved my hand. "Forget about the latter, for now; I know better than to ask you to endure it. Allow me to paint you a picture of what I am…"
***
Part of a letter addressed to 'L'.
…in other words, I can't say I am all that well-versed in working with mana-flesh.
Yes-yes, I managed to create the vessel for my prototype chimera, don't waste parchment referencing that just to a contrarian. We both know that conducting a ritual after multiple attempts, designed by someone else, tweaking it for months on end, is not the same as the sort of work you are apparently capable of.
Which is why I am vexed that Hexe still tries to approach me with the research notes and project tidbits the two of you are working on. This isn't a request for you to admonish her for sharing those drafts; rather, begrudgingly, I am asking for advice.
You were a married man, and you are the only man currently alive who knows of my circumstances.
I have a suspicion that Hexe merely wishes to spend more time with me, and that my involvement in the projects is a secondary concern. On one hand, I did swear to her that I would help her with her work, and to this day I do, but on the other hand I suspect I am being fleeced into spending more time with her than I have to.
You probably already know of this woman's strange affection for me; naturally, I rejected her a long time ago on the premise of not being interested romantically in anyone or anything. Just as naturally, she seemed to understand my position, and there was an assurance she wouldn't try to pursue me; yet, without ever truly overstepping any social taboos or boundaries I can name, there are subtle actions of hers that make me suspect that she keeps harboring too much affection for me.
I do not wish to actively ruin our partnership merely to cripple this affection, and it does not seem to affect anything as of yet, but it must be quite a torturous experience for her, no?
I have difficulty properly empathizing, as I have never been this in love with someone incapable of returning such feelings, and yet stayed by their side all the same. It must be unhealthy to some degree, no?
I am asking all of this because I am concerned for Hexe. I do not wish to gossip and attempt to conduct 'engineering' work on her feelings behind her back, but I fear there is something here, in this situation, that can turn volatile or harmful to her if I were to handle things poorly.
I do not expect you to solve the issue from my brief and, admittedly, somewhat cluttered explanation, but I would appreciate you setting aside a portion of your next letter to ask whatever relevant questions occur to you, to help me both understand the matter and find a way to address it.
No, you may not question the utility of acquiring an obedient demon. I would also appreciate you skipping the majority of the jokes about trophy wives and sexual slavery, veiled or otherwise, because I meant questions regarding Hexe alone.
Yes, you are this predictable. Yes, I do extract some amount of perverse pleasure from modeling you in my head to properly predict your responses; besides, it helps me in my study of clairvoyance.
Banter aside, apologies for bringing up such a matter in the first place. I rarely find myself in a position of such ineptitude and helplessness, unsure of how to proceed, else I may accidentally break that darkfire flask and see it erupt, so to speak. If you are wondering - yes, I send this package separately from Hexe's correspondence and outside our usual schedule precisely due to this part of the letter.
***
"Ahem, Headmaster?" I tore my eyes away from the letter and turned towards the student who addressed me. He was a man on the younger side, somewhere in his twenties, and he had his hand awkwardly up. Stock was his name, I recalled.
"Done already?" I questioned lightly, throwing a long glance around the lecture hall, and seeing most students with their attention fixed on me rather than on their papers. "Good. In that case, please do demonstrate."
I gestured towards a specially cleared area where complex geometrical arrays were already laid down. Those didn't have anything remotely magical in or about them; they were merely a visual aid to the students.
Stock, dressed in normal city clothes of his choosing, with the Academy's crest stitched in, awkwardly stood up, gathering loose notebooks and sheets of parchment, and managed to knock the ink bottle with his elbow as he did…
"Ah!"
Luckily for him, I caught it with telekinesis before it could drop a row onto the head of the girl below, and gently levitated it towards him.
"Careful," I said, visibly letting my mana gather around Ziz's ring, as if I were using it as a foci. In truth, I cast the spell without one.
"T-thank you," he said, sheepishly accepting the bottle. "And sorry…" he added, addressing the girl below, who, if I recalled correctly, was from a merchant's family, a bit older than him, and dressed considerably better.
As Stock carefully walked down the stairs leading to the lecturer's podium, I too stood up, using one self-made folk spell to instantly dry the ink on the paper, and some telekinesis to shuffle all the papers into the respective bags still attached to my coat, which hung on the wall beside the desk.
Unfortunately, living so closely with this many overexcitable, and often questionably intelligent, creatures (students), I had to use actual, physical clothing most of the time. The chance of a firebolt, or a bottle of concentrated dissolvant striking my clothes and making them dissolve into flakes of mana, is low, but never zero, and I would rather avoid the possibility.
"A-ah here, h-headmaster s-sir," the young man all but shoved the papers into my face.
Feeling a pang of rage, and ignoring it, I brought my own hands up and accepted the papers. A tap on the granite floor and a quickly shaped spell raised a small table out of stone, and I set the papers on it.
Ignoring Stock for the moment, I flipped across the pages, nodding to myself. I could still spot a few issues, but this was expected.
Writing a grimoire correctly was no small feat even for experienced mages. Not because it was technically all that difficult, but because it was one of the few truly codified and organized systems in magic that spread across the entire continent. The ability to record magic in writing and read magic in writing were both remnants of the Ancient Empire and the system codified by Flamme.
Essentially, this was the only true 'academic' requirement for mages outside of research enclaves.
Naturally, an enchantment is usually layered under the words on the page, showing pieces of the structure described, and this draft of a grimoire was yet to have one. It required genuine enchantment work of some skill; naturally, students weren't expected to manage that without help.
"Section here." I gave Stock the parchment as I reached for the notebook, flipping a few pages. "And most of this page does not work properly. I understand what you are trying to convey, but this is because I know most, if not all, of the separate weaves and templates we teach," I explained patiently. "You, however, skipped a few steps when numbering the weave sequences somewhere."
As expected of Stock, who had always been a promising academic, he immediately set about finding where I was pointing. Normally a good thing, but I didn't have too much time to let him find it himself.
"Look," I called out, making the man glance at me as he corrected his glasses.
I began forming the weaves he described in the over-exaggerated slow sequence usually codified into grimoires. The sequence exists so that mages can see and feel it: overloaded with mana to the point of being nonfunctional, but clear in how it was supposed to look.
Slowly, I formed a template.
"This is how it's supposed to look," I explained, and Stock nodded. "Combined with two others…" I quickly manifested another ten templates, rewove the one I made slow and nonfunctional, connected them together, and threw in the right sequence and places across the visual aid of the circle on the ground.
Naturally, said circle ignited; countless complex geometrical sequences started to flow, displaying the absolutely cliché of a magical circle, hovering just above the visual aid below, shining blue and in constant rotation.
Inside, a small flame lit and caught.
A sustained fire was now burning in the room, just as the ritual had been designed for. As long as I kept feeding mana into the spell, anyway.
"Now, here is what would happen if I followed your instructions…" I once again repeated the process of weaving an exhibition piece, and by Stock's expression, I could see that he spotted the issue, or at least recognized that the template was subtly different.
I then, again, joined the separate pieces together after remaking the template, and threw the resulting spell into the ground.
I also gently coaxed Ziz to assist.
The explosion was bright and brief, and produced a great deal of smoke. I gestured with my hand and my mana, ignoring the shocked exclamations around the lecture hall, and moved the smoke towards a window, pushing it out.
Stock looked embarrassed, rubbing the back of his head and staring into a somewhat charred granite podium.
"There is no shame in getting it wrong. To begin with, I am simply showing all of you," I glanced around the lecture hall, and whatever amusement the students had evaporated as my eyes moved across them, "the consequences of making a mistake. I will reiterate again, Health and Safety is written in someone's blood, take care that it won't be written in yours. This," I gestured towards the still smoking piece of stone, "was incredibly tame, because the ritual I had you transcribe was specifically selected to be. It would take a special talent to record it in a way that would cause a faithful reproduction of the spell, as it is depicted, to be genuinely dangerous. Yet, last year a student managed to lose a finger performing a spell with a wrong template woven in." I glanced around again, seeing some unease finally appear.
"This is why, until you are third years, you are forbidden to execute spells recorded in grimoires on your own, unless you had cast them before," I explained patiently. "This rule does not exist to limit your progress; it exists because, generally, the majority of you will only develop your mana senses enough to feel that you are making a mistake by the third year. A tutor at your side, teaching you the spell, can stop you before you actually power it. Not having a tutor will result in this." I once again pointed towards the charred floor.
A lone hand rose up.
"Yes, Ei," I offered to the girl, who coughed into her fist.
Ei happened to be one of the children of noble birth who had been accepted into the Academy recently. Not the greatest talent, but her enrolment paid in favours and hard coin; that, and her attitude wasn't atrocious.
"Headmaster, it's a bit unfair to make all of us from first and second year go through this, isn't it?" she questioned; by her body language and expression I could tell she was incredibly annoyed and merely trying to be polite, "The ruffians who breached those rules in the dormitories aren't even among us and are punished separately, are they not?"
Indeed, the pair of imbeciles who managed to steal a grimoire of a folk spell that made soapy foam were not here. They were currently in the place where I would send most children their age currently in attendance at my institution if I could; that is, to the mines.
Their punishment was to work in whatever job the dwarven clans would find for them. I didn't care beyond writing the letter and booting them with one of the professors to Sturmkamm.
This wasn't done out of some practical consideration, or to instill some grand life lesson; I just needed those idiots out of the Academy, else I might have killed them. Hopefully Hexe will take the rest out of my hands because God rarely tempts me so into violence.
"It is true that none of you were directly involved." I nodded to her conclusion. "Very astute observation, Ei."
Something on my face, somehow, seemed to have distressed the young lady quite a bit.
"Unfortunately for you, and everyone else present, I don't care," I finished simply. "You are either completing the safety course training, or you are leaving the Academy." I took a few steps forward. "I've been assured, multiple times, that all our newcomers are sufficiently instructed. That all that could be done had been done. Evidently, this wasn't the case, if incidents like this happen. Seeing that I have no interest in trying to assemble pieces of the soaked, pink, and soapy documentation in my office like half-dissolved puzzle pieces ever again, and I have the proper power to instill some wisdom into aspiring young talent, all of you are going to remain here until you manage to complete a grimoire and understand in full why they are so difficult to work with at full for the mages of your skill. Even if some of you succeed before the others, you will remain here helping your peers until everyone is done. After all, this is a nurturing academic community that exists to help each othe…"
I felt all of my anger, resentment and rage disappear, as if grabbed by some invisible all-devouring maw, and sucked into an endless hungering abyss like spaghetti by an Italian who just came back home after visiting the British Isles.
Slowly, I turned towards my desk.
"Puru?~" Protos, currently sitting on the side of my table, tilted its head.
Two seconds later, a crack signifying the broken speed of sound rang across the Academy grounds, and a pink missile was shot from the window of the lecture hall and towards the nearby cliff with a long 'PUUUUUUUuuuuuu-'.
I turned back towards the students.
"Where was I?"
Stock tentatively raised a hand, despite standing practically by my side.
"A-ah, you were giving me feedback on my work, sir?" the nervous, yet strangely brave boy asked.
"No, we were quite done. Do the corrections." I turned back towards the students present. "Now, who else is ready to have me evaluate their draft?" I asked evenly. "If there aren't any serious issues, I will let you attempt casting the ritual."
Strangely enough, there were no volunteers.
***
Part of a letter addressed to 'A'.
Signed 'S'.
Now, as for this 'Aura', you are a fool for not having killed her, and for building long-term plans regarding her.
The name Ewig the Sage had come up in our discussions before, and, much like you, he was the sort of fool who tried playing at subjugating demons. Unlike you, he didn't rely on the pure dumb luck of a Greater Demon playing itself into slavery; he was acting more proactively. There are a couple of rituals of his design, and even enchanted items created for that ever-alluring purpose of 'taming monsters'. Some more functional than others.
It wasn't any mistake of his that ended up costing him his life; it had been other demons. He had been hunted down and killed.
This is the danger of working on such magic. Demons aren't merely smart monsters like dragons and sirens; they have a hierarchy of their own, which means they can act together and operate under direction. Many forget that this includes reacting to a common threat when necessary.
Most of your research, dangerous as it is in some places, is publicized through me, and as such the trail stops with me for the vast majority of demons.
What you are doing now brings the dangerous kind of renown to you.
Personally, I would find it rather fun seeing what you end up inventing to save yourself, and it may even push you in interesting directions.
Unless you are willing to kill a lot more Greater Demons, you should consider moving in a few decades, or someone will come for you, I think. It's surprisingly difficult to scry you; I suppose you put many of the anti-clairvoyance grimoires you had me give you into practice?
As for your questions regarding this 'Auserlese', the mechanics you describe indeed do sound disgusting yet elegant enough to be a magic of a Greater Demon. Without taking a look myself, I can't really advise you much on the mechanical loopholes that may appear. You can visit me in Äußerst if you need my opinion on it so much.
Couldn't really find anything off about the verbal rules, but I skimmed through them. Double-checking things like that is boring. Hire one of those law-masters if you have to, or better yet, just take responsibility and die when the demon inevitably snaps its leash instead of bothering me with those things.
With that said, don't expect any grimoires until Neugieri comes back. Once I can confirm that she isn't under the effects of any magic, I will stop entertaining the possibility that you are under the control of some upstart demon.
Now, with all the boring stuff out of the way, explain again why you think Guts Slurper's nesting instincts will interfere destructively with Hypergryph's reproductive ones. I understand that there is an overlap between section 21A43 of the first subject's core and the 31B…
***
***
Albert,
"So this is how the creature functions," Neugieri said, looking thoroughly disturbed by the abomination in front of her. "And you are claiming what… that this isn't a demon's magic? That it's reproducible?"
Hexe chuckled at that, looking outright amused.
"You yourself went a fair way into studying chimerology, didn't you?" the master alchemist questioned the younger woman lightly, "This is just the extension of that."
Neugieri shook her head in obvious denial, pointing down at the creature.
"This can't be true!" she complained, "It's not even a creature with a body of solidified mana! By Albert's own definition, it's not a chimera!"
This was when I had to interfere.
"Correct. It's a proto-djinn," I said, taking out the heart and inspecting it. "But this isn't what you are asking, is it?"
I was working at the vivisection table built for monsters the size of a cart, currently occupied by a restrained creature the volume of which was comparable to a very fat house cat.
"The pseudo-flesh isn't my secret to share. Believe it or not, it's a human invention," I explained, placing the heart back into the cavity and seeing the flesh instantly connect it back. I moved it slightly aside with the magical blade of my scalpel spell, and started to cut deeper in. "I published my studies on chimeras, but this knowledge shouldn't be released quite as nonchalantly. On that, the original creator of it, Serie, and I all agree."
I couldn't see Neugieri well, as she was on the other side of the table and I was working; as such, I only noticed her in my peripheral vision.
But I did notice her shifting in place.
"Master knows of this?" she asked, her voice wavering.
I paused my work, glancing up for a moment.
"Why are you surprised?" I realized a moment later. "Just because she lets you read some of her correspondence doesn't mean you are entitled to all of it." I pointed at myself. "As you know, I am 'A'. Your master is 'S'. There is also a friend of mine who goes by the name of 'L' who invented the current iteration of this craft," I pointed down at the creature that was slightly moving around, trying to lick my hand. "And, I suppose, Hexe is well on her way to being 'H', as she was introduced to Serie, and she exchanged letters with 'L' for years." I paused, for a moment once again staggered by the deep annoyance at the 'letters' club' existence as an entity.
"It's not that I expect master to have no secrets!" Neugieri protested, before seemingly shying away a bit. "It's just that this feels like something genuinely evil."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Don't give me that look!" she exploded, pointing down at the subject. "This thing has maws on the inside! And tentacles of flesh! And eyes!"
I looked down.
Protos looked up, with both his eyes and a dozen inside his belly.
"Puru~" it complained, poking the magical scalpel with one of the tentacles. I jerked my wrist, cutting it off, and the proto-djinn ceased being a pain.
The creature was designed not to feel pain properly anyway, and it didn't regard its body, or the sanctity of it, the way most living things did.
I met Neugieri's eyes again.
"I've been told he is cute."
I didn't defend myself when Hexe, who was slowly going around the table towards me, bonked me on the head with a book.
"Time and place for jokes, Albert," she chided me before leaning on my back and, presumably, winking at Neugieri, if I modeled her right, "In his defence, the grotesque appearance on the inside is something you do get used to. Especially with the little one." Hexe leaned down, gently patting one of the fleshy tendrils extending from Protos's belly, making it try to nuzzle up.
"Hexe, let me work," I requested, gently pushing her back a little. "I don't have much time as is, considering the mountain of paperwork you just dumped at my desk."
The woman behind me complied, though likely shooting me a dirty look, and stepped back a bit, allowing me to work.
I cut my way a bit deeper, and found the second heart. That one was plump and just about ready.
Slowly, I started to cut away, getting ready to extract it.
"What Albert here is not saying is that creating anything resembling proper flesh is extremely difficult using 'L's' knowledge," Hexe explained seriously. "But the potential of it is terrifying. This flesh is susceptible to necromantic templates, and yet, can be transformed back into normal flesh."
I could see by the sheer shock on her face that Neugieri understood the gravity of the statement.
"Wait… wait… but that's-..." She shook her head, leaning forward. "That is ridiculous; how is this not something widespread yet?! It's a way to heal without Goddess's Magic… no, it's a way to sculpt a body in whatever way one would please! Like receiving an extra set of arms o-or claws, or…"
Her enthusiasm and sheer wonder were understandable; most mages, I imagine, would react that way on understanding just what Lisch was working on. The reality of it was considerably less majestic.
"Or one could design the sorts of plagues that would devastate the entire continent, with only creatures of mana, such as myself, immune," I explained, interrupting Neugieri and seeing her freeze. "There are other horrifying things one can do if the knowledge, unaltered and unfiltered, were to spread. Which is why it's kept out of most people's reach for now."
I finished the last of the work and slowly, carefully, lifted Protos's second heart. It was the size of a grown apple, and shining dimly with all colours of the rainbow, changing from one colour to the next and in between.
"The other issue is that the magic in its current form isn't useful. The field is basically a primordial goo without any proper templates, rituals, and convenient spells." I explained, as I prepared the container and layered preservation enchantments, before slowly lowering the heart inside, "Creating a lump of flesh is possible. Patching pieces on a necromantic construct is possible. Designing a creature to mold out of this flesh is somewhat possible, though it would not be truly alive, or independent." I accepted the decanter that Aura had passed me without looking, and carefully poured the liquid on top of the glowing artifact, filling up the entire container. "It's the limitation of human magic as a whole, and of template precision of modern magic in general. Awfully difficult to design a spell that would account for making something alive; the precision necessary to design a self-sustaining creature of any complexity is ridiculous. Even outside the obvious things such as shaping the body, there are nuances to creating organs that house minds, and they are almost impossible to fully implement or work through." As was the problem Lisch had with his own body.
His sense of his own body was thoroughly disordered. And there was the lack of taste, sleep, and some other functions too.
And to think his procedure was an improvement on King Barmherzig's.
It was a miracle that the genius mage of old even managed to transfer his mind without going insane. The procedure involved imprinting a sympathetic copy of a human brain onto the 'pseudo-flesh', along with how it thought, over the course of more than a month, so that the rest of the body would be molded around that pattern.
The issue was that when the body was transformed into pseudo-flesh and the transfer complete, the subtle details not directly part of the brain, such as the replacement for nerves, either weren't working properly or weren't connected to the core housing the consciousness in the correct way.
Finally, I closed the lid and levitated the glowing heart onto the shelf with a few dozen similar 'glowing orbs', as I looked up at Neugieri.
"Essentially, as of now, L and Serie are working on creating actual, functional healing spells. That is the knowledge they will spread when it's ready, not the foundations of the whole discipline."
The mental mage was looking at me oddly before pointing down at Protos.
"He is far too beloved by the faculty to not be alive."
I felt a spike of rage - it was immediately eaten. I glanced down at the purring creature, seeing the second heart starting to regenerate already, due to its 'meal'.
"You would be surprised how easy it is to be attached to an inanimate object." There were studies about that on Earth. "But more importantly, I've never claimed Protos isn't alive. I said that flesh crafting alone can't create a living object." I held up my right hand and the rings upon it.
My mana stirred, gently tracing patterns around the sleeping djinns, and both came awake.
Slowly, in the air, a majestic transparent bird and a flaming, zooming beetle materialized. Once they noticed each other, they immediately started to chase one another around me.
"Functionally, Protos isn't much different from those two," I shared. "The majority of his core is composed of the various 'wild' undead. You are familiar with those monsters, right?"
Neugieri nodded slowly.
"Yes, they are proper monsters by your classification; that is, they have a 'heart' or a 'core', in the terminology you usually use. But they are a type of elemental, because they don't conjure themselves a body from mana. Instead, they possess a physical object." She grimaced. "Corpses, usually."
I nodded to that.
"You probably see where I am going. Protos is a chimera made to be almost an elemental in nature, with an affinity for living in this pseudo-flesh." I pointed down at the creature who already regenerated the wound now that I wasn't poking it with a scalpel.
A small basin with water was placed on the operating table beside me by the demon, who immediately retreated. I made use of it to wash off my hands.
"The biggest difference between Protos and those two is that Protos isn't capable of creating his own vessel from nothing, nor is he particularly good at manipulating it. Most of the vessel was pre-designed by 'L'; what he adapted for himself was mostly the innards. His ability to feast on emotions and store them in his heart forever was something I carefully preserved from his other major donor, a monster called Sorrow Crane," I said, shaking my head. "Essentially, he is a djinn, just designed for a task other than combat or immediate utility." I took a glance at the pair in the air. Carbuncle was chasing Ziz as he clicked his mandibles, flame whooshing behind him, as the chirping laugh of the wind bird was hard to catch.
Neugieri also seemed lost in watching the flying pair, and let out a sigh.
"It's ridiculous that you managed to design chimeras this complex. Genuinely unfathomable. It feels more like they were created from nothing rather than just… stitched from multiple unrelated monsters," She muttered. "But they… they won't get any smarter than this, would they?" There was caution in her voice.
I shook my head.
"No. It's hard to properly measure their intelligence, because it has no proper, easily understood analogue," I said quietly. "You know it better than I do, but a bird of prey thinks of things that concern the bird of prey, and a dog thinks of things that concern a dog. Ziz and Carbuncle both aren't easy to define. But their intelligence is that of smart animals," I explained, watching them play. "Were they truly sapient, capable of complex abstract thinking, they would be useless for my purposes, and dangerous besides. I've made them smart enough to understand what I need of them and be trained into their roles, and be content in living them. I need them to be happy with their lot and fully content doing what they do, else they won't be of use." I shrugged. "It's not unlike how humans domesticated dogs for their purposes, albeit much quicker. If a dog's instincts and intelligence were fighting its role as the defender of the herds of sheep, it wouldn't make for a good pastoral dog, would it?"
The mental mage shook her head, still seemingly unsure.
"It's still hard to believe that you don't have any real way to control them. It's just all training and commands…" She glanced at me. "Haven't you considered using something like…" Her eyes moved behind me, likely towards Aura, judging by the dark look that appeared in her eyes as she trailed off.
"There is no need," I said simply. "The majority of the strength of my djinn comes from them being independent of me. It's true that against Aura I had them fight following my commands strictly, as if they were extensions of my limbs, but in other fights they could fight all on their own," I explained, gently brushing both troublemakers with my mana, and asking them to land on my shoulders. They did. "I trust that they are trained well, and so far that trust has been repaid. There is no need for chains in honest service."
Neugieri raised an eyebrow.
"What about that one then?" She definitely was pointing at Aura now.
"What about it?" I asked, lifting an eyebrow. "She isn't a creature I designed; she is, for all intents and purposes, a wild monster that just chained herself from head to toe by accident. I use her however I can. Until the later stages of my research, she can't fulfill a niche I need her for; at least this way she is doing something."
We had this discussion with Neugieri before when I was explaining to her who and what I am; the words I told Standhaft were mostly true. I needed Aura to be my long-term test subject.
The procedure I will eventually design to undergo will be more complex than any conventional medicine, so I need to perform it and observe the test subject for decades to see how the side effects develop. It's impossible to do with a demon enchained and in captivity; keeping one alive for that long will be a struggle, much less the complications that can arise as a result of captivity itself contaminating the experiment.
Aura was genuinely invaluable as a free-roaming monster I can use as the last possible trial target. The sort of procedures she will receive are procedures that I would have otherwise had to simply use on myself.
This, however, was decades, likely over a century away at the current pace.
I glanced back to confirm, and indeed, Aura was sitting there, mechanically checking the journals and reference tomes, and neatly organizing them, now that I didn't need her ferrying items.
She made a surprisingly handy assistant in the meanwhile.
"I could be doing considerably more," Aura spoke up, which, in and of itself, was rather interesting.
There were some restrictions on her speech, mainly so she wouldn't beg, bargain, or otherwise try to weasel out of service or sabotage my reputation.
"Once I test your knowledge properly, you may be able to perform this operation on Protos alone." I shook my head, glancing back to Neugieri. "There is no point in comparing the two. These two," I gently flicked Ziz's beak, as she was a bit too insistent on whistling right into my ear. Was she trying to make the wind blow in one ear and out the other? "are essentially trained, intelligent animals; they don't deserve unnecessary cruelty. Aura is just a demon."
For some reason, that statement caused a heavy silence to linger.
It was Hexe who spoke up next.
"You know, it is quite disturbing how cruel you are to your own kind."
I was confused by the way she said it, knowing full well Hexe understood what demons were. It took me a few seconds to realize that she was speaking about feelings, not any kind of intellectual dissonance.
"I suppose it may be somewhat repulsive," I offered. "But I don't think I am particularly cruel. Demons just don't deserve much deliberation in regard to unnecessary cruelty, as the baseline for an ideal, morally acceptable interaction with one is killing it. Unlike animals, with which you should just part ways. Therefore, anything that doesn't devolve into merely torturing a demon for torture's sake, and instead extracts some kind of value from the demon, either for yourself or others, is a benign action, is it not? By definition of the word."
Hexe and Neugieri exchanged somewhat concerned glances.
"I… do still need to go today," she said, sighing. "Hexe, please make sure everything here still stands by the time I come back. I understand now that it's not a given thing."
Hexe just nodded to that, her expression serious.
"I will try my best, but I can't make promises," she said, hiding a small smile as she righted her puffy, unnaturally huge witch hat. "Still, making a trip all the way back to Äußerst… are you sure?"
The mental mage just chuckled self-consciously, hugging her staff closer.
"Yeah, master will eventually come here herself if I don't. Albert must have told you that much. Besides, I have a lot of things I have to do back home before… well." The woman who was proposed to mere weeks ago blushed and glanced away.
"I meant it more in the sense of 'are you sure you are going to leave your handsome betrothed all alone and unsupervised for half a year~'... but that is important too, I suppose," Hexe teased, gently leaning towards the younger woman, grabbing her by the shoulders, and leading her out.
"Sto-o-op!" She glanced back at me. "Thank you for showing me this laboratory, and what Protos is. If you want me to pass something to master, you can give it to me before I depart from Sturmkamm tommorow." She apologetically bowed. "But I have to go now, it's late and having a carriage ride back to Sturmkamm after sundown is almost impossible! Sorry."
"He knows that. Let's go, let's go." Hexe practically pushed the girl outside, following closely behind. "Now, tell me; did that potion I ga-" And even my enchanted hearing lost them after a point.
For a few seconds I just stood there, considering what happened, and what I could draw from this experience.
"I think your logic makes sense. I don't understand those two either." I glanced back, towards Aura, who spoke out of nowhere, her eyes meeting mine.
Why is she saying something this inane? Is this the order about 'helping'? Is she trying to 'help' soothe my pride?
"Just get back to work," I ordered, shaking my head, and unclasping Protos, who, chirping, instantly jumped at Carbuncle, initiating a playful brawl.
I closed my eyes for a brief moment.
------
Author Note: A normal-sized chapter for once, and one that brings the arc truly to a close, for the most part. The tone and what things were skipped over in what manner was somewhat deliberate to synchronize the reader with Albert more.
The next chapter fought me so excuse me for the delay. Good news, some official human bean art will be commissioned. The winner is 'A three panel depiction of A, S, and L all writing to each other from their respective domains.'.
Anyway, the next chapter as always on Patreon and Boosty. Check out my other platforms too, I now possess the tree of links (with discord attached).
https://linktr.ee/wiererid