373 lines
10 KiB
Markdown
373 lines
10 KiB
Markdown
---
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title: "Chapter 4: Encountering Magic (Part 4)"
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slug: "ch-4"
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novel: "Infinite Mage [Remake]"
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number: 1
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views: 2850000
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likes: 198000
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wordCount: 3600
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createdAt: "2020-01-17"
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---
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He had heard a massive sound.
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Or perhaps it wasn’t sound at all—but he had no other way to describe it.
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As if the entire world had mouths, whispering to him, all those sounds merging into one until they ceased to be sound at all.
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’At that moment, I wasn’t myself.’
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He was the world itself.
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As he recalled that boundless vastness, a single truth struck him:
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I am infinite.
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"Hng... Ugh..."
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Shirone, overwhelmed by emotions that transcended mere joy, clenched her eyes shut and sprinted forward.
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She couldn’t bear it—if she didn’t run, she felt like she would collapse.
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Though her body had been confined once more, her spirit still remembered that fleeting moment of liberation.
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’I am free.’
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How much time had passed?
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Even with her eyes open, Shirone couldn’t see ahead—until a dull impact struck her face.
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"Ugh!"
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She tumbled onto her backside, and when she looked around, she saw the filthy scenery of an alleyway.
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’How did I end up here?’
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The emotions had been so overwhelming that she couldn’t even remember what had just happened. But now, reality crashed down on her.
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"What the hell? Annoying brat."
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A group of vagrants glared at Shirone like predators spotting prey.
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The man she had bumped into grabbed her by the collar.
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"Hey, you. Out of your damn mind?"
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"S-sorry!"
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"You think sorry cuts it? Spit it out—you’re one of those Wolf gang punks, aren’t ya? Just tried to shank me, didn’t you?"
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"N-no! I didn’t!"
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They took one look at Shirone’s eyes and knew.
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This scrawny kid, adorable even when sprawled on the ground, didn’t have the guts to throw a punch, let alone wield a knife.
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The only thing left to do was rob her, but judging by her clothes, she probably didn’t have any money.
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Still, her delicate features had an air of nobility—if they sold her off to the slavers in the South, they’d make a hefty sum.
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’Definitely a commoner. No need to worry about consequences.’
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Just as they were thinking that, a girl’s voice echoed from the alley entrance.
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"What’re you guys up to? Something fun?"
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The men immediately turned.
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"Lady Amy!"
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Shirone, sensing a savior, looked toward this "Amy" person—
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’...She’s just a kid.’
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A girl around her own age, with reddish bangs covering one eye.
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"Hehe, what brings you here? Bored again?"
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Though her tone was light, the men’s hands clasped together in deference as they approached her.
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Anyone who knew her identity would understand.
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Karmis Amy.
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The youngest daughter of the Karmis family—nobility of the First Class, second only to royalty in the kingdom’s hierarchy.
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For a noble girl to mingle with street trash was beyond common sense, but for a rebellious teenager sick of her gilded life, delinquency was her only joy.
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"This runt tried to kill me! We were just teachin’ her a lesson," one thug lied smoothly.
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"N-no! I just bumped into him by accident!"
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"Liar. You expect us to buy that?"
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A burly man drove his foot into Shirone’s stomach, making her curl up in pain.
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"Ugh...!"
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"You owe us compensation, brat! Where’s your mom, huh? What kinda woman births a shameless brat like you and then disappears? Go get her!"
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Shirone was stunned.
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How could these men, who surely had parents themselves, insult someone else’s mother like that?
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"Oi, this brat’s eyes changed. You pissed, kid?"
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The vagrants, sensing Shirone’s rage, swarmed her, kicking and stomping.
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Even then, Shirone didn’t understand why they avoided hitting her face.
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Then Amy spoke.
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"Enough. You’ll kill her at this rate."
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The men immediately backed off, and Amy hopped down from a wooden crate, approaching Shirone.
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"You okay?"
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"I-I didn’t do anything..."
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"Who said you did? I asked if you were okay."
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"I... don’t know if I am."
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Amy studied Shirone’s face intently.
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’Don’t make that world-weary face over something this small. I’ve had it way harder than you.’
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To outsiders, the Karmis family’s youngest daughter lived a life of privilege.
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’I work way harder than you, so why do you get all the pity?’
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Her dominance over the alley’s thugs was born from that resentment.
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Even if it was childish, when a noble did it, the rules changed.
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Amy turned away.
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"So, what now? Anything fun left?"
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Shirone, who had assumed Amy would send her home, was stunned.
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Meanwhile, the thugs, familiar with Amy’s cruel whims, answered smoothly.
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"We were gonna rob her, then sell her to a brothel."
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Amy smirked.
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Of course, she had no intention of indulging their crimes—just roughing Shirone up a bit before sending her home.
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"Hmm."
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Studying Shirone’s face, Amy’s sadistic side stirred.
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"Brothel workers can’t have flaws. Why not strip her and check?"
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Lately, she’d been curious about such things—and since Shirone was a commoner, there’d be no consequences.
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’Besides... he’s kinda cute.’
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Shirone’s looks were undeniably good.
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"Strip. If you do as you’re told, maybe we’ll let you go."
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Shirone’s mind went blank.
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This didn’t feel real. The people before her seemed like demons.
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"How... How could you? That’s evil!"
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"You didn’t know? The world’s always been like this. You’re just a victim ’cause you’re weak. Everyone only cares about themselves."
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The thug leader scoffed.
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Criticizing the world made him feel mature, smarter than the rest.
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’You’re wrong, little girl.’
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You talk of cruelty, but you don’t know true cruelty.
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You chase suffering, but you don’t know true pain.
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’You’ll never understand.’
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Life is much longer than you think.
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"Hey! The lady said strip! You wanna get hit again?"
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"..."
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Shirone’s lack of response made Amy uneasy.
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’Did we break her?’
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But Shirone wasn’t broken.
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Her mind was sharper than ever, hyper-focused on the changes unfolding within her.
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The violence had triggered something—her heightened senses catapulted her into the Spirit Zone.
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’This is...?’
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The second time was different. Now, real-world information flooded in.
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She could hear the thugs blinking.
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The boundary between herself and the outside world dissolved as her consciousness instinctively sought a path—
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—and landed on the memory of Alpheas casting magic at the academy.
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"Ah..."
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Her insight began etching Alpheas’s emotions, senses, posture, and movements into her mind like a printing press.
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Countless patterns combined, and at last, the fundamental truth surfaced.
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"Brat! Hurry up and drop your pants! The lady wants a show!"
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A thug grabbed Shirone’s collar and shook her—nearly ejecting her from the Zone.
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The Spirit Zone demanded extreme focus, leaving her vulnerable to outside disruptions.
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It was like walking a tightrope while someone shook the rope.
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As Shirone’s eyes darkened, Amy suddenly shouted:
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"Wait! Stop—!"
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But it was too late.
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Shirone’s will violently distorted the natural order.
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BOOM!
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A gale of incredible density erupted, lifting everything in the alley—
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Wooden crates, stones, the thugs, even Amy.
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"AAAAH! HELP!"
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The screams snapped Shirone back to reality.
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The alley was eerily empty—until the bodies began falling.
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THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD!
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The sickening cracks of bones hitting the ground echoed.
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Gravity, often overlooked, was a merciless force.
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The thugs’ limbs shattered on impact, bones jutting through skin.
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"Guhhh...!"
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"M-my arm... my leg...!"
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Legs bent grotesquely; forearm bones tore through flesh.
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Shirone panicked.
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She hadn’t expected a moment of anger to cause such carnage.
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Only one person landed unharmed—Amy.
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Nobles trained their bodies from childhood, and as a First-Class heir, she was no exception.
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Holding down her fluttering skirt, she stared at Shirone in shock.
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"What... are you?"
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The scene Shirone had created was a stark reminder of why mages were feared.
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Even Amy, with her honed reflexes, hadn’t resisted the wind’s fury.
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"Answer me! Where did you learn magic? How can a commoner—?!"
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She cut herself off.
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The screams had drawn the guards.
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If her identity got out, her family wouldn’t let it slide.
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"Tch!"
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Pushing off a wall, she zigzagged up the alley’s sides and vanished.
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Shirone, dazed by the superhuman feat, snapped back to reality.
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’This is bad.’
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If the guards arrived, they’d pin everything on her.
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’Dad...’
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The city had taught her one thing: the world was cruel to the weak.
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’No one will listen to me.’
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She turned and ran—
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—toward the only person she could trust.
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Karmis Manor
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The Karmis family—First-Class nobility, pillars of the kingdom.
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Though not based in the capital, their influence stretched across Tormia.
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Only two remained in the main house: the retired family head, Shakora, and Amy.
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"I’m home."
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"Where’ve you been? Skipping lessons again?"
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Despite being past sixty, Shakora had no trace of white hair, his tall frame and sharp glasses exuding pride.
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"I’ve learned everything already. It’s boring."
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"So you played with street trash instead? Even geniuses get overtaken if they laze around. A gem must be polished. Grow complacent, and one day, you’ll get stabbed in the back."
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"Ugh! Enough lecturing!"
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Shakora chuckled.
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He knew her teenage rebellion stemmed from frustration—both at her genius and her gilded cage.
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’The grass is always greener.’
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He let her be because, unlike her siblings, she’d inherited his talent in full.
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’When she realizes what she holds, the scales will balance themselves.’
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That was the fate of a genius.
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Amy froze. His scolding had dredged up the day’s events.
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’What was that kid?’
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She’d trained relentlessly, hating the idea that her status was all she had.
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’He looked my age...’
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How had someone with no training or education wielded magic?
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’An accidental awakening? A latent talent?’
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No other explanation came to mind.
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—Grow complacent, and one day, you’ll get stabbed in the back.
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Amy bit her lip.
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’I’ll never lose.’
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Yet today, she’d been struck down by someone she’d always looked down on.
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"Dad."
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Shakora set aside his paper, surprised by her initiative.
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"Hm?" |