[97] The Genius Who Lost the Light (6)
"Master…."
Sade couldn't bring himself to speak. Was Alpheas truly the same Alpheas as before? Humans cling to hope because they don't know the future. But Alpheas's memories contained no hope. Any happy recollection was simply buried beneath horrific pain.
Alpheas closed his eyes again. A single tear slid down his cheek.
"Master, are you all right?"
"Thank you, Sade."
The gentle tone made Sade let out a breath of relief.
"You really are all right, then?"
"Of course. I'm sorry I spoke harshly to you. But that was the old me."
"No. I'm the one who should apologize. I feared you'd break, so I thought it might be better if you stayed as you were…."
Alpheas patted Sade's shoulder.
"You made the decision true to yourself. Maybe that would have been for the best."
"Master, then…."
Sade grew anxious again. Perhaps he should have pushed through his original instinct. That might have been Alpheas's one chance to escape.
"Yes. Those are memories one never wants to recall. But…."
Alpheas looked at Erina's portrait. Remembering the moment they met at the ball and his confession brought a faint smile to his lips.
"Even a life full of suffering can sometimes be lived for the sake of guarding a single moment."
"I see."
Sade finally felt reassured. Alpheas was the same Alpheas down to the last detail.
The woman Erina, who had upended a life, remained in Alpheas's heart as pain—and as an inescapable memory.
"Master, the one behind this is Arkein. Right now Teacher Etella is…."
"I had a hunch from the start. This is no time for explanations. Let's move."
Alpheas walked toward the door and Sade followed. They'd passed the first hurdle, but the real problem began now. The entire school was caught in Arkein's influence.
'Please, don't be too late.'
Infinity (1)
Shirone and the others were silent for a while after learning Alpheas's past. It was that shocking—a love story so painfully sad it made their chests ache.
"To think something like that happened to the principal…."
A licensed Grade-4 mage and the head of a prestigious school. To anyone, that looked like a successful life. But from Arkein's account, young Alpheas had truly been extraordinary: a Gold Circle winner who proved the theory of radiant quanta while barely an adult. The memory-transfer experiments, especially, were progressive ideas only now being researched in the mage community.
"Alpheas was undoubtedly a genius. But he was weak. If he'd held on a little longer, the world would be different. Yet he ruined everything for the sake of petty sentiment. I can never forgive such an Alpheas."
Shirone had many thoughts. Arkein was a villain in the world's eyes, but he was also a mage. At least in Erina's experiments, he had been an excellent collaborator.
"Yes. The principal destroying your data may have been hypocrisy."
Arkein's murderous intent had calmed, so Shirone stepped a little closer.
"But I would have made the same choice."
"You say that after seeing Alpheas's state? Well, a Grade-4 mage might look impressive to you. But those ruled by emotion cannot reach the highest positions. Erina's death is regrettable, but magic is still magic. In that sense, Alpheas was unfit."
Shirone shook his head. History would judge what was right, but he believed Alpheas was not easily swayed by emotion. At least, that was how Shirone saw it.
"If you had continued the experiment, there would have been countless victims. You would have carried out human experimentation without hesitation."
"I won't deny it. But saving the many by sacrificing the few is the rational path. Someone has to suffer anyway. Isn't it the duty of intellect to accept sacrifice to save more people? If you stood before parents of a mentally disabled child, what would you do then? Would you still spout sanctimonious words?"
"I would."
Arkein frowned in displeasure. Shirone wasn't being obstinate for its own sake.
"If, as you say, one life could save ten thousand, then it would be the rational choice. But even then, I would not sacrifice that one life."
"Then ten thousand will die."
"That's unavoidable."
Shirone spoke with resolute eyes.
"Ten thousand might die. But even if that happens, it's not a realm humans have the right to meddle in. We have no right to weigh lives on a scale—that's arrogance. Even if more people suffer, we should do what we can. By doing so, a day might come when we can save ten thousand. What you try to do is no different from a dictator who wants to stand above humanity."
Arkein realized Shirone was his opposite. He couldn't accept sacrificing the few for the many? Some would call that virtue, but in practice few would agree. Humans drift between good and evil pursuing what benefits them. Shirone stood at the extreme end of goodness. Both monstrous murderers and savior saints are inhuman, and both suffer persecution from the masses.
'Your life won't be smooth either. Dying here might be a blessing for you.'
Mages choose good and evil by intellect. To Arkein, who believed evil's efficiency pushed humanity forward, Shirone was a future sprout that had to be cut.
"We are incompatible. Regrettable, but you will have to die."
Shirone flinched back. Until a moment ago Arkein had seemed drained, but now he radiated the aura of a true grand mage.
"Surprised, youngster? Magic is a mysterious thing."
According to the Magic Association, the mental fatigue a mage experiences casting pure magic equals that of a normal person focusing on a single task for forty-eight minutes.
But Arkein ignored such calculations and instantly drew up his power.
"Let this end. There will be no suffering."
Shadows erupted from Arkein's body and a black veil spread across the sky. Its scale left people aghast. It was on an entirely different level from the dark power Canis had displayed.
As Arkein raised his right hand, the veil coalesced into the shape of a fist. Judging by its size, if it struck and fell it could have blown away half the basin.
'It can't be stopped. And it can't be dodged either.'
Quantified, the dark power exerts roughly 0.1 N per cubic centimeter (1cm × 1cm × 1cm)—only slightly stronger than an ant's mandible. But when multiplied into the hundreds of millions, it becomes a colossal force reaching thousands of tons, capable of sweeping everything on the ground away.
"Stop your disgraceful conduct, Master."
Everyone in the basin turned toward the cliff. Alpheas stood with his hands clasped behind his back. Then a beam of light roared down and Sade landed beside him.
"Sade!"
Color returned to Shirone and his group's faces. The arrival of Alpheas and Sade alone felt like a thousandfold reinforcement. Sade looked up at the dark power and cast a Fire Line. Streams of flame rose in a double helix and gathered into a gigantic sphere of fire.
"Wow…."
The surroundings were bleached white by the brilliance; no one could keep their eyes open. But Arkein offset the blinding light with his dark magic and stared back as if his retina had been scorched.
"Hmm."
He opened his palm toward the Fire Line and the dark power in the sky mimicked the motion, moving to seize the enormous ball of flame.
Ssssss!
Shirone shuddered. He had never heard anything so vast burn. When the world fell into darkness again, Sade frowned and shifted his Spirit Zone into an offensive form.
"Damn it! Annoying old geezer…!"
Alpheas raised a hand to stop him.
"Enough, Sade."
"But Master…."
"This is my affair. It's between me and Arkein. Leave it to me from here."
Alpheas walked calmly. Arkein extinguished the Fire Line and returned the dark power to a veil, spreading it across the sky.
"You've grown old, Alpheas. Even a mage of time is only human before the years."
Alpheas ignored the forty-year-old greeting. At least for now… it wasn't the time for two foolish, bewildered old men to settle the past. He scanned past hundreds of students, checking on the injured Iruki and Nade and Shirone, and finally looked back to Etella. She bore the bruises of having clashed with Arkein—the dark bruises stark against pale skin.
"You did well, Etella. It's because of my immorality. There's nothing I can say but I'm sorry."
"No. I'm the one who should apologize. I couldn't save all the students."
Alpheas shook his head. When she applied for a teaching position—proficient in magic, martial arts, and mind techniques—he'd been puzzled. But today he couldn't be prouder of hiring her. If not for her, none of the students would be safe now.
"Principal, please be careful."
Shirone said with a worried expression. If Arkein were still drained, a licensed Grade-4 mage like Alpheas might manage. But the current Arkein was, without doubt, in peak condition.
Alpheas smiled knowingly.
"Do not worry. No magic violates the principle of equivalent exchange."
"But Arkein's mental strength was clearly…."
"Yes. He must have recovered. But that, too, is magic."
"Magic?"
"Abyss-type magic manipulates memory. Arkein created it and wields it best. Right, Master?"
Arkein snorted.
"So it's not dementia then. By the way, the magic you endured doesn't compare. What you experienced was the Abyss Nova. No need to explain its effects—you've lived them."
"An exquisite spell. Thanks to it, I could recall old memories."
"Don't boast. You were terrified and ran. I bet you were just sobbing."
"You guessed it right. But Master, you've weakened a lot while I wasn't looking. To struggle against youngsters a hundred years younger and even resort to Abyss Memory—you really suffered."
Arkein didn't get angry. When Alpheas stayed calm, so did he. Forty years of pent-up hatred couldn't be undone with mere words.
Alpheas turned to Shirone, savoring the calm before the storm.
"Shirone. To cast a spell requires a momentary, intense concentration. It's like using in one second the result of an hour's focus. That's why Arkein did what he did."
Alpheas tapped his temple with his index finger.
"He cast it on his own head. A spell that erases memory."
"Ah…."
There was that method. Erasing memories the brain had used would remove mental fatigue. Functionally it would still overload him, but done once it could restore his mental strength.
Alpheas understood Shirone's feelings. Viltor Arkein—an unorthodox mage who'd survived a hundred years on battlefields with dark magic. Whatever grudges lay in the past, his skill demanded respect.
"Yes. A bold, splendid technique. Arkein is a mage living in such a world. So remember this too: one who has no final resort cannot be called a true battle-mage."