The Obsessive Regressor of The Academy

4. Serendipity

*Pajijik!*

The white light roughly extended, aiming for Jerville’s head. Despite the sudden attack, Jerville grinned and formed a hand seal.

[Cădáver Párĭes]

*Wooduduk!* With a sound of something crumpling, a wall of corpses rose from the ground. Distorted human faces filled every side, and a heart embedded in the very center pulsed, scattering blood around the fleshy wall (肉壁). The lightning struck the center of it, and the wall shattered with a tremendous noise.

Blood, pus, and gore dripped from the collapsed wall. Jerville watched the filth being washed away by the rain, then raised his head to look at the caster of the lightning.

Her face was hidden in the shadows of the alleyway, but that blue gleam in her eyes shone clearly. It plainly revealed the identity of the magician.

Even without that gleam, Jerville would have immediately recognized the wielder of the lightning. In the first place, any mage who scraped by in this world couldn’t be unaware of the only electro-mage on the continent. A monster who had even reached the level of an Archmage, even.

“Long time no see, Genesis (開闢). Have you been well?”

Jerville said, slightly bowing and bringing his hand to his chest. It was the etiquette of nobility.

Familiar formalities flowed through his gestures. But the voice coming from the alley wasn’t so formal.

“Continental subjugation target.”

The woman’s unique high-pitched voice carried on the air. With just that, the surrounding thunder rumbled louder. Magic of a violent and brutal nature began to slowly occupy the space.

“Corpse Magician Jerville. Given epithet, Corpse Lord (屍主).”

“Well, now. To have the Archmage herself speak my title. I am honored.”

“You single-handedly annihilated the Kingdom of Verom, built a fortress atop the mountain of corpses, and then executed the envoys from the Holy Kingdom and the Empire who came to parley. Around the ruined kingdom, you declared a territory where no living soul could tread. Then you vanished without a trace.”

“Had my reasons.”

Zervil shrugged. Beneath his feet, the heads of corpses slowly began to rise.

They were grotesquely twisted bodies. Where eyes should have been, there were rows of razor-sharp teeth. From mouths that stretched from jaw to abdomen, pointed tongues flicked out.

“I’ve been researching methods of corpse refinement lately. This is the result. But in the process of creating them, I used up almost all the Kingdom’s citizens. So, I’m wandering around to replenish my supply of corpses.”

Ignoring Zervil’s words, the woman began to walk toward him. And as she did, her appearance became clear.

She was more like a girl than a woman, with a youthful face. But the overwhelming presence emanating from her was far beyond anything a girl could possess. The surrounding air became heavy, and static electricity, writhing with moisture, stung the skin.

It felt as if he stood before an insurmountable monster. Just looking at her was enough to crush him to death.

But Assel did not, could not, tear his gaze away. It wasn’t Zervil’s necromantic energy, but the wild, lightning-infused mana radiating from her that stirred something within Assel’s chest.

An alien sensation, as if the feeling in his forgotten arm was returning. Assel burned the new sensation into his mind, staring intently at the girl.

Then, with a crackle, lightning arced around her.

“The large-scale massacre that occurred in the Empire’s slums a year ago. Was that your doing as well?”

“Repeating myself is such a bore. But I wasn’t using any stimulants that day, so other than the prostitutes screaming for their lives, there aren’t many memorable images.”

“I see.”

The girl replied, closing her eyes.

The number of lightning strikes erupting around her steadily increased. At the same time, dark energy poured from the corpses near Zervil. The corpses shuddered from the overwhelming power, but Zervil paid them no mind. Instead, he wore a wry smile and moved his lips.

“The Magic Federation is really something, isn’t it? Even if I’m a designated target for extermination, they assign an Archmage as a hunter? Is the Federation really that short on manpower?”

“There was a contract we made a long time ago. They simply wanted to clear it all out this time. And…”

The girl said with a soft smile.

“Rather than sending other hunters to provide you with better corpses, they needed someone who could definitively eliminate you.”

“How troublesome. If I’d known it would turn out like this, I should have just let myself be captured and killed by the last hunter.”

Zervil sighed deeply and extended his hand to the side. A longsword rose from the ground into his grasp.

A blade forged from flesh and bone. The sickly, flesh-colored blade was coated in thick dark energy. A cursed sword that would rot anything it touched. Zervil twirled the sword, smiling at the girl.

“You’re not going to spare me, are you?”

“Can a corpse puppeteer survive if only his brain is left? If so, I’d consider it.”

That was answer enough. Zervil handed the sword he held to a knight-like corpse and spread his arms wide. Then he shouted.

“Splendid! Then shall I stretch my limbs after a long time?”

The girl said nothing. Instead, she tilted her head slightly. That simple gesture became a single incantation, hurled towards Zervil.

[Chasing Thunder]

*FZZZT!*

A pure white lightning bolt arced towards Jervel with blinding speed. Jervel contorted his body into an unnatural angle, narrowly evading the strike. But in that instant, the missed bolt shifted course, returning to hunt him down.

Direct hit. Jervel’s body was instantly engulfed in a maelstrom of white lightning.

“Ggh…ggh…ggh…!”

Incoherent syllables escaped his lips. His electrocuted body spasmed and rattled, his fingertips turning to ash and scattering from the overwhelming heat.

Yet, Jervel, betraying no sign of agony, contorted his face, etched with the marks of the electrocution, into a grotesque smile.

*WHOOSH!*

His chest burst open, a geyser of blood and flesh erupting forth, launching compressed corpses like artillery shells.

*[CADAver SOLUTIO]*

The compression released as they hurtled forward. Instantly multiplied into hundreds, the corpses densely packed the distance. Assel, positioned behind Jervel, was safe. But the girl, hidden behind the countless corpses rushing from all sides, was rendered invisible.

However, her voice remained crystal clear.

“Annoying.”

The girl, with a disinterested gaze, swept her hand, regarding them.

*[Slayer Advance Lightning]*

Lightning danced at the whim of her gesture. The rapidly advancing white light incinerated, crushed, and detonated everything in its path. With each pulse of lightning, blood and flesh splattered, forming pools of blood on the ground. Even those were instantly vaporized upon the lightning’s touch, washed away by the rain.

“Hoo.”

The girl blew out the remaining lightning flickering on her fingertips, then turned her gaze towards Jervel.

Jervel, watching the girl vaporize blood with lightning, rapidly formed a hand seal.

The lightning that had enveloped him had long since dissipated into a lingering echo. He drew upon his vigor, unleashing magic.

*[CADAver BRACHIUM]*

A gigantic arm, crafted from interwoven corpses, was summoned before Jervel. The arm, plastered with human faces, lunged to crush the girl. The girl stood, a lightning bolt the size of her palm clutched in her hand, awkwardly thrusting forward.

*[Severing Lightning]*

The short lightning bolt collided with the enormous arm.

The result was lightning’s triumph. The pure white lightning imploded the arm from within, scattering chunks of flesh and blood in every direction.

*CRACK!*

The arm’s explosion reverberated with tremendous force. Assel unconsciously winced, while the girl aimed a finger at Jervel. A simple incantation. Yet, the power born from it was anything but.

*[Turbid Lightning]*

-*FZZZT!*

The crackle of lightning echoed from the girl’s fingertips. But nothing was launched. Only stillness hung heavy in the air.

Suddenly, Jervel desperately dragged a corpse with a pregnant-protruding belly in front of himself. Instantly, the corpse exploded like a bomb. Jervel, covered in blood and gore, cried out with incredulous fury.

“Are you toying with me! That’s a corpse that’s min-maxed its defenses! Not some flimsy thing that bursts with a single spell!”

“So?”

The girl responded blandly, extending her palm towards Zerville. From her grip, a bolt of pure lightning shot forth.

[Thunderclap]

“Give me a moment to breathe!”

Zerville slammed his hands onto the ground. A reek of rotting corpses wafted up from beneath his feet, and a decayed head, the size of a building, surfaced. The head met the lightning and, just as before, detonated without resistance.

Amidst the scattering chunks of flesh, Zerville began to chant.

[Supréma Únĭo]

[Gigas]

Compressed corpses spat from Zerville’s hands coalesced at a single point, instantly forming a colossal corpse giant. The giant stared down at the girl with blood-dripping eyes, then unleashed a roar and stamped its foot with earth-shaking force.

-Waaah!

“Noisy.”

The girl muttered, sweeping her hand down from above.

[Annihilation Thunder]

[Mimicry]

[Lightning Strike]

Lightning Strike, a high-level spell even within the electric arts, was manifested from another spell, mimicking only its essential principles. Its power was significantly weaker, and its area of effect incomparable, yet it was more than enough to vaporize the giant whole.

KRA-BoooM!!

The lightning struck, accompanied by a thunderclap that threatened to rupture eardrums. Asel, forgetting the ringing in his ears, gaped in awe, while Zerville chuckled in disbelief.

“That’s not the kind of guy you can kill that easily, really…”

“Done playing around?”

Beyond the giant’s ashes dissipating into the air, the girl spoke, scattering a blue glow from her eyes.

Zerville shrugged, then answered as he scattered corpses from the hole in his chest.

“Well, not quite yet.”

Small, compressed corpses rose to their feet. Corpses controlled by a high-ranking corpse sorcerer were capable of slaying skilled warriors with their mere bodies.

Moreover, Zerville was one of the highest-ranking corpse sorcerers. Each corpse he controlled was comparable to an upper-tier expert.

But the girl didn’t even blink at the tsunami of corpses descending upon her. She simply scattered lightning, killing them all as if they were a nuisance.

A corpse reaching out with a sharp arm had that arm evaporate and vanish. Dozens of corpses exploded entirely with each flash of lightning. Electricity coursing through the rain burned the corpses alive, and volleys of lightning strikes cleansed the area around her.

When nearly no corpses remained around the girl, she sensed Zerville beginning to recover his magic and scowled.

“You never intended to get serious, did you?”

She crushed the charging corpse underfoot, then pointed to the three cadavers standing guard beside Jervil, continuing, “The strongest ones don’t even move, and the only magic they use is throwing corpses around like clumsy oafs. I think they’re after something.”

“How perceptive of you.”

Jervil smirked wryly, mending the gash across his chest once more. He compressed a corpse beneath his foot into something like candy, chewing it, and then, with a blood-slicked mouth twitching, said, “I was merely attempting to escape. Nothing so grand. Do you honestly think I’m insane enough to truly fight Ena-nim?”

“Trying to flee from me is a grand thing indeed. Did you think I’d simply let you?”

“Of course not. Which is why I thought to raise a little shield.”

With that, Jervil sharply turned his head towards Asel. Asel, who had been intently observing the girl’s magic until just moments ago, flinched under the blatant gaze.

Finally snapping out of her daze, Asel began to rise, intending to flee, but in that instant, Jervil’s arm, stretched and augmented with torn flesh, seized her by the hair.

“Agh!”

Asel screamed as if her scalp was being ripped clean off. Jervil, however, remained unfazed.

He thrust Asel forward, brandishing her like a pendulum, and chuckled maniacally.

“Ta-da! An innocent civilian. And a child, at that! One who, until recently, was watching our magic, learning how to harness mana all on her own—a monstrous talent!”

“…Crap.”

“As you can see, her language is… colorful. But that’s to be expected, growing up in the slums. Anyway, normally I would have proceeded with various experiments, now that she’s been discovered, but Ena-nim’s arrival has rendered that impossible. Alas, I must release her here.”

Jervil shook Asel’s body up and down as he spoke. In the process, blood welled from the torn skin of her scalp.

Asel let out a stifled groan from the piercing pain. Jervil glanced down at the flowing blood, then turned his gaze back to the girl.

“I considered killing her, you see, but that seemed… wasteful? I’m curious to see what someone with such potential could achieve with magic… and I also entertain the idea of finding her again and resuming my experiments. Haha! As you know, I’m a bit of an oddity, aren’t I?”

“……”

“I’ll spare her, and I won’t interfere with her body! She’s far too sensitive; if I interfered, it would be like pouring impurities into her. It would warp her growth in unpredictable ways. And I wouldn’t like that.”

Jervil spun Asel’s body around as he spoke. Asel’s face was already smeared with blood from her head.

“Still, there’s a price for sparing her. She’ll serve as a shield for a short while. If Ena-nim uses magic, this child will be roasted alive and rolling on the ground, won’t she? If you don’t mind, feel free to attack. I’ll gladly take it.”

Ah, except for high-level magic.

Jervil finished speaking and pulled a rotten arm from his chest. Then, with his free hand, the one not gripping Asel, he began to weave a spell. Unintelligible words spilled from his lips, and the corpses standing guard closed in around him.

The girl, Ena, watched the scene with clear displeasure, but upon seeing Asel’s bloodied face, she abandoned the idea of killing Jervil. She retrieved all the mana she had released and clicked her tongue, watching Jervil’s magic unfold.

“Teleportation magic. Did you learn that, too?”

“Haha, just a parlor trick. A teleportation mage I consumed a few months back knew a rather useful spell. I’ve improved it a bit.”

“You answer questions readily enough.”

“Am I capable of hiding a technique from a mage like you when I’m blatantly casting it? I’d rather just explain it myself than be found out… There, done.”

Jervil completed the hand seals, condensing his chaotic energy into his hand. Then, he slammed it down on one of the corpses scattered on the ground.

*Crack!*

The corpse beneath his hand split lengthwise, revealing a stench-filled darkness beyond. Zerville nodded, a look of satisfaction on his face.

“…A portal that only uses corpses. Truly a sly trick.”

“Isn’t it? Quite useful to me, at least. All the more so for a sorcerer who has altered his body to be as close to a corpse as possible, like myself.”

With that, Zerville casually tossed Assel towards the portal.

But he didn’t let go completely. With a gentle grip, he held Assel by the scruff of his neck, bowing his head towards Ena.

“Well then, I’ll be going. I hope we never meet again.”

“We’ll see. The Guild’s request to track you down just this once ends here, but personally, I don’t have any fond feelings towards you.”

Ena smiled faintly, tilting her head to the side.

“I hope you have a good hostage with you the next time we meet.”

“Your advice is appreciated.”

Zerville threw himself into the portal as he finished speaking. His form disappeared into the darkness, and the transference magic cut off only after the arm gripping Assel’s neck was dragged across the threshold.

Only then did Assel clutch his neck, now marked with angry red welts, and gasp for breath.

A searing pain erupted from his split scalp. Most of the blood on his face had been washed away by the pouring rain, but the injury felt even worse. The heavy raindrops drumming against his head were a source of pure agony, sending shivers down his spine.

But still, he had survived. A tear in his skin? A cheap price to pay for encountering a mad mage. Assel slowly regulated his ragged breathing, exhaling deeply towards the sky.

“Hey, kid.”

As he stood there, stunned, Ena approached. Assel let out a surprised “Ah,” then shot to his feet, bowing deeply to her.

“Thank you, mage. I owe you my life. Any later, and I would have been tortured alive.”

He meant it. Had Ena arrived any later, Assel would have been slowly dismantled by Zerville.

Furthermore, when Zerville fled with Assel as a hostage, Ena could have easily killed them both. But she hadn’t, and thanks to that, Assel had survived. It was only natural to feel genuine gratitude toward such a person.

Ena recognized the sincerity and nodded, smiling softly.

“Hmm, good, good. I’m glad you’re alright. I’ll fix your head wound.”

“Huh? You really don’t have to go to that…”

“No, hold still.”

Ignoring Assel’s refusal, Ena pulled a red potion from within her robes and poured it over his head.

Immediately, Assel’s wound began to heal rapidly. The pain gradually faded, and within seconds, the injury was gone, leaving no trace. Assel, astonished that his head no longer ached under the rain, bowed again at a right angle.

“Thank you!”

“The cheek…just a moment.”

Ena placed her hand on Assel’s cheek, where the flesh had rotted. With a faint crackling sound, magical energy erupted from her palm. The magic gently worked over Assel’s wound, extracting and dissipating the residual foul energy.

It was a delicate operation that most mages wouldn’t even attempt, but for the archmage, it was not a difficult task.

Ena reapplied the potion to the now-cleansed wound. Putrid, festering flesh slowly healed, returning neatly to its original state. Acel, no longer feeling pain in his cheek, offered his thanks again.

“Thank you!”

“Mm.”

Ena gazed down at Acel, a gentle smile playing on her lips. And then, Ena saw something shimmering.

Mana. She tilted her head, subtly drawing forth her own power. Acel was awash in vibrant mana, swirling visibly around him in her eyes, now alight with a cerulean glow.

“…Oh.”

Ena gasped almost involuntarily. It was unavoidable.

It was common for archmages of considerable rank, or accomplished masters, to be favored by mana. But to see this much mana surging around a child who hadn’t even begun to learn magic? Ena had never witnessed such a sight. It was a rare occurrence, a talent almost impossible to find even scouring the entire continent.

‘Zerville praised him so overtly, I thought it was just nonsense. But it seems it was true.’

Having lived a long life as one of the ageless, she still found life perpetually surprising. Who would have thought to find a talent surpassing the mages of the fallen Magic Kingdom in the slums of a corrupt kingdom? Ena twirled her fingers through the mana swirling around Acel as she considered.

Such remarkable talent? I see. But is it right to leave such potential here?

Is it right to allow such brilliant talent, which could blossom so quickly with guidance, to rot away in the slums? Wouldn’t it be a greater service to the continent to take him in and nurture him as a mage myself?

And what if, left here, he’s found by some unsavory character and raised to be a demon worshipper? Wouldn’t that be a disaster?

Moreover, one so gifted with mana would be a valuable sacrifice. If this child was used to summon a demon, what dominant entity might emerge?

The thoughts cascaded. Ena cleared her throat and narrowed her eyes.

‘Should I just take him?’

She hadn’t particularly wanted a disciple, but it was hard to ignore such talent right before her.

Thinking about it, wasn’t the reason she hadn’t taken a disciple before simply because no one had impressed her enough? A being so beloved by mana was more than qualified to be her apprentice.

‘Other mages would be tripping over themselves to claim him, wouldn’t they?’

She could already imagine the scene. A mage, also stumbling across Acel, taking him as a disciple and, years later, flaunting their protégé’s achievements before the mages’ league.

The others, envious and bitter for not having claimed Acel themselves, while his master chuckled at their dismay.

She, too, would be grinding her teeth in regret for missing the opportunity. Wouldn’t it be better to take him now and assume that master position herself?

Unlike other mages, Ena had no desire to boast about a talented disciple. There was no reason to, and no benefit to be gained. It would be enough for him to grow strong and become a powerful mage.

In that regard, Ena was certain she’d make a better teacher than any other mage. She nodded to herself, picturing Acel, taken in by her, conjuring lightning instead of fire and ice.

Yes, decision made.

“Child, what is your name?”

Ena asked with a kind smile. Acel answered without hesitation.

“My name is Acel. I have no family name.”

“I see. I am Ena Renatus.”

Ena introduced herself, gently stroking Acel’s head. Clearing her throat, she spoke in a serious tone.

“Um… Asher? Could I perhaps… make you an offer?”

“An offer, you say?”

Asher countered, and Ena affirmed with a nod. “Perhaps you might consider becoming my apprentice?”

Again, Asher’s response was immediate.

“I don’t think that would be possible.”

Ena’s smile faltered.