"'I'm good at basic computation!'"

If you interpret it closely, it was mages shouting with all their might, "'I'm good at slave labor!'"

When Alon shook them off and came inside—

"Sub-tower master, do you happen to know this? This is that famous mana-sensitivity herb—"

"Hooh—"

"If it wouldn't be rude, could I perhaps give you a gift—"

"Hmm-hmm— Refusing what someone offers is also something rude."

"Thank you so much...! I am Professor Penveril of the Green Mage Tower."

...Penia was extorting goods from the mages.

"Next—"

Ahem-ahem.

Making a completely mismatched sound to the fullest and shrugging, Penia lazily flicked a hand while speaking, then—

"So what— ack."

After spotting Alon, the leg that had been propped up on the desk and crossed was hurriedly untangled.

"Hehe— you came, Marquis?"

"...Wow. So that's what it means to open your eyes nicely."

Evan clicked his tongue as if surprised.

"Shut up."

Penia snapped, brow furrowing hard, and barked at Evan.

Then, as if seriously thinking about how to explain this situation, Penia fidgeted both hands.

The eyes rolled this way and that, too.

"Uh— this isn't like I was trying to get something on purpose...."

A voice that trailed off.

Alon let out a light sigh.

"I'm not planning to get angry, so first, even if it's brief, please explain the situation."

"Y-yes...!"

Penia’s complexion brightened in an instant and Penia nodded.

Then Penia immediately started explaining the current situation.

A short amount of time passed.

Alon organized it.

"So. You've already selected everyone [N O V E L I G H T] to do the computation, but there were still mages left who couldn't even apply."

"Right."

"And those mages who couldn't get picked tried to get an additional interview with me."

"That's right."

"And you sucked the blood out of those mages?"

"Shut up, seriously."

Evan cut in in the middle, but Penia, face going cold, shut that mouth with harsh words, then looked back at Alon as if wronged.

"No, I'm telling you I didn't do anything, okay? I was just sitting there and they just— brought things over, I'm telling you?"

"...Is that... so?"

"Like— I kept saying I didn't need it, but they still just give it and leave, so what am I supposed to do.... And when they're begging that hard for you to take it, refusing isn't exactly right either. It was hard for me too...."

Without even thinking to hide the various reagents or artifacts piled up behind, Penia drooped the shoulders and sighed.

Evan made a face like it was pathetic, but Alon fell silent for a moment, then asked.

"Why did this situation happen in the first place?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, why are this many people crowding into magic research?"

Alon genuinely couldn’t understand it.

They called it basic computation, but in truth, it was no different from manual labor.

If Alon had to find the most fitting comparison in the previous world—

It was similar to a coding slave.

And yet there were this many mages volunteering to be that kind of slave.

Naturally, to Alon, it could only feel strange.

Penia answered right away.

"It’s probably because of the research results."

"Research results?"

"Yes. Even if what you're doing is boring, the moment you participate in the research, you can check the research results."

"..."

Alon nodded, but not every question was resolved.

It was understandable that they were bewitched by Alon’s magic and wanted to take part in the research.

But even if they saw the results of Alon’s magic research—

Mages couldn’t copy Alon, could they.

No matter how much they helped the research, there was nothing they could actually gain.

"...But aren't those results meaningless to other mages?"

"Umm—"

So when Alon asked again, Penia thought for a moment, then—

"How about meeting Heinkel, Marquis?"

"Hm?"

"Because in what Heinkel said about wanting to talk with you, Marquis, there was also an answer to this included."

Heinkel was mentioned, and Alon—

"Let's do that."

Nodded slowly.

####

"You came."

"Yes."

A little after that, Alon met Heinkel.

"You're later than I expected."

"There was something to do. Was I very late?"

"Not really, since there isn't a deadline anyway. It's a story about magic. First, sit. It seems like the talk might get a little long."

"...To that extent?"

Heinkel thought for a moment, then—

"Well— it depends on the situation, but. Mm."

Saying that, Heinkel sat in the seat across.

"...What kind of talk is it?"

"Before that, for a moment."

Heinkel immediately started muttering something.

And with that, magic circles spread across the entire library.

Magic circles that, even counting roughly, looked like there were dozens.

They activated in time with Heinkel's muttering.

And the moment the magic circles shone brightly—

"!"

Alon realized the scenery in front of the eyes had changed.

And not only that, it had changed into scenery Alon knew very well.

"This place is...."

It was a ruined world.

The ruined world Alon always saw whenever going to meet Kylrus.

So Alon, frozen blankly—

"Don't be too surprised. This is your inner world."

Turned at the sound of Heinkel's voice.

And there, Heinkel could be seen.

Unlike in the real world—

A body with a proper form.

"...For an inner world, it's pretty miserable."

Heinkel’s impression.

Alon asked.

"...Weren't you unable to use magic?"

"That's right."

"Then how...?"

"Well— don't rush too much. I came all the way here to explain that anyway. For now, sit."

Following Heinkel's hand with the gaze—

At some point, in the middle of the ruined world, a desk and chairs had appeared.

Alon sat at the desk and asked.

"Then why did we come into the inner world?"

"Hm?"

"If it's just a conversation, can't we do it in the library too? Even if it's for security, this seems a bit excessive."

To that, Heinkel stared at Alon for a while.

As if debating whether to say this or not.

But only for a moment.

"Well, there's something like that—"

Heinkel swallowed what was about to be said, then let out a light sigh.

"I heard from Penia. You're curious why mages are obsessed with basic computation?"

"Yes."

"It's simple. This research opened a new road for mages."

"...Pardon?"

"To be precise, a new calculation method, maybe? Well, strictly speaking, it should be called a byproduct that comes from interpreting magic. Surprisingly, it seemed like it would be a big help."

"...What kind of thing is it?"

"I'll explain later. It's longer than you think. If I just make a simple analogy, it feels like discovering multiplication and division in math that only had addition and subtraction."

After explaining like that, Heinkel moved on to the main point.

"All right, then from here, it's the main point."

"Did something happen that caused problems in the magic research?"

At Alon's question, Heinkel shook the head.

"No, it's not that. Rather, the magic is being interpreted at an exceptionally fast speed. Before long, four of the second-tier magics will be finished being interpreted."

"...Then?"

Heinkel paused for a moment.

As if thinking about where to start explaining.

Then slowly opened the mouth.

"Actually, there's no problem."

"...Pardon?"

"Just that I found something a little... unsettling."

"What is it?"

Heinkel began speaking softly.

"Alon, do you remember what I said last time? That if you interpret the magic that exists now, it all becomes the magic of True Mages."

"There's no way I wouldn't remember."

"Then that the magic from the first tier to the eighth tier, the moment you interpret it, has identical strength, only differing in ability, without any difference in tier?"

"I remember that too."

When Alon answered immediately, Heinkel corrected quickly.

"Sorry, Alon. What I said was wrong."

"...? What do you mean?"

"Recently, I tried interpreting an eighth-tier magic."

Because for second-tier, there were now friends who would do the boring repetitive work instead of Heinkel.

As the tiers rose, interpretation became harder, so Heinkel added that it was wondered how absurd the eighth tier would be, so it was interpreted.

Alon asked carefully.

"...So, how was it?"

"I clung to it for almost a full month. In practice, I gained almost nothing. But ridiculously enough, I was able to realize what the essence of that magic was."

Heinkel, digging through memory, furrowed the brow.

"...That magic, at least in my judgment, was omnipotent."

"Omni... potent?"

"Of course, the interpretation isn't fully finished, so I don't know exactly. I asked Jack Sparrow too, and Jack Sparrow said there wasn't anyone who handled this even in the forgotten era. Meaning, this eighth-tier magic is—"

"...Are you saying it's magic from even farther back than the era of the Forgotten God?"

"That's right."

Heinkel let out a sigh.

"Jack Sparrow was surprised, but also agreed. There was also a theory that the spell phrases and sentences were made in a past that even they couldn't remember."

At Heinkel's words, Alon nodded.

Certainly, Alon had heard that kind of story before too.

"Then isn't that a good thing?"

"From the point that if you just interpret it you can use it, it's positive. But— historically, it's negative."

"...Why is that?"

For a moment, Alon was bewildered, but at Heinkel's continuing words—

"Think about it, Alon. This world has repeated ruin constantly, and nothing carried on. Even though this omnipotent magic existed in a very distant past."

"!"

Alon gained an understanding.

####

A gloomy sky.

A land where the ground was tangled and entwined with the roots of countless lands.

And inside a gigantic temple built on that land, completely shattered—

There were two figures.

On one side, an apostle of Wrath sat in the seat of honor with a black hood pulled over the whole body.

On the other side—

"Huh— were you surprised I'm alive?"

Innocence— no, the apostle of Envy opened the mouth, brimming with mockery.

A brief silence.

And in that silence, the one who spoke first was—

"You were alive."

It was the apostle of Wrath.

Toward the apostle of Wrath, who spoke calmly in a flat tone with no rise or fall, the apostle of Envy grinned.

"Yeah, I was alive. I'd already spread plenty of insurance."

"I blew up all the cell lumps you hid— but it seems you had something hidden even more."

"Correct. And I hid it somewhere you couldn't find."

Looking at Envy twisting the corners of the mouth up even more, Wrath continued speaking calmly.

"So— did you come because you want to die again? Or revenge?"

"No way. I know it too. I know as much as that I can't beat you."

"Even knowing that, you came?"

"Yeah. Because I'm holding your weakness."

At that remark, Wrath lifted the head hidden by darkness and looked at Envy.

"Weakness?"

"Yeah. Your weakness."

"My weakness—"

"Your true identity."

Wrath, staring at Envy’s smeared grin, answered with composure.

A voice like scraping iron rang out.

"I do not understand. How does that become my weakness, one that cannot kill you?"

But even at Wrath’s attitude like that, Envy wore an expression full of composure.

"Right. If your true identity were merely a demon that has simply lived a long time, it wouldn't be a weakness."

Pulling up the corners of the mouth—

"But you really do have a weakness. Apostle of Wrath. No—"

Clearly, Envy spat it out.

"Yutia Bloodia, is what I should call you, right?"

A quiet silence continues.

And.

The apostle of Wrath, who had been silent without any reaction, slowly pulled back the hood.

And what was revealed along with it was—

"Hmm—"

White hair, and a clear, beautiful voice like jade beads rolling.

The apostle of Wrath—

No.

"Didn't think you'd find out."

Yutia Bloodia smiled and moved the lips.

"Found out?"

With crimson red eyes shining.