Ronant's Perspective It's a lie.
I refuse to acknowledge it.
There was no way that person could have been killed by the likes of the Church's agents.
And yet, the entire town was buzzing with talk of it.
The place where the divine beast had been was a small woodland that had been reduced to a state of utter devastation.
Scars of destruction as if some great magic had been hammered out over and over again.
Thick remnants of magic power still lingered in the air.
It appeared that dark-element magic had been used, but even I couldn't make out the specifics.
Dark magic, no — for this much magic residue to still remain, that was inconceivable.
Then it had to be Abyss Magic.
Abyss Magic.
The highest-tier dark-element magic said to exist.
I had never laid eyes on it myself.
The first time I'd seen that person holding a Skill had been then.
So these remnants of magic power were the aftereffects of that person using Abyss Magic?
Something felt off, but it meant the opponent had been someone they'd had to unleash such a devastating spell against.
The notion that that person had been slain suddenly took on a horrifying plausibility.
I left the stirring townspeople behind, telling myself I would avenge the divine beast's enemy.
So even a being of that magnitude died when it was time to die.
How vast this world truly was.
And how utterly insignificant I was by comparison.
I lost sight of my goal, and the will to live began draining away from me at an alarming rate.
If I returned to the empire, I might face some punishment for breaking my suspension.
It probably wouldn't be anything too harsh, but even that felt like a bother right now.
Perhaps it wouldn't be the worst end to simply drop dead somewhere out in the wilds.
Then, on a whim, the thought occurred to me — if I was going to die anyway, wouldn't it be fitting to die where I'd first met that person?
An excellent idea.
Once I'd made up my mind, I teleported without delay.
And where I arrived, I reunited with that person.
Their appearance had changed, but that overwhelming presence was unmistakable.
They had split into two, but my eyes were not so easily deceived.
Both were the genuine article.
What?
...Impressive as always.
To think they could even split themselves apart.
They casually pulled off things I couldn't even fathom.
One was white.
A spider.
Last time I'd seen them, they'd been black, but they had shrunk down considerably and changed color.
Still, those distinctive twin sickles on their forelegs were intact.
The other was a black spider.
Somewhat larger.
It had no sickles and looked like an ordinary Taratect species.
I was curious about how they'd split, but it was probably a method beyond the reach of a mere human like me.
If so, then I should focus on learning everything else.
Before I knew it, I had offered to become their apprentice.
I spoke passionately for hours.
They seemed to have grown exasperated with me.
I'd done it again.
I'd gotten carried away and rambled on far too passionately once more.
But at least this much was now clear.
That person understood the human language.
Well, a being of that caliber not comprehending speech was unthinkable.
But despite understanding my words, they gave no response.
It seemed my request to become an apprentice would not be granted.
On the other hand, they weren't exactly treating me coldly.
They'd been directing a quiet killing intent at me right after my teleport, but even that had dissipated by now.
At the very least, it didn't seem like I'd be killed on the spot.
They wouldn't welcome me, but they wouldn't expel me either.
A stance of absolute non-interference.
If that was how it was, then so be it — I would observe this person's actions and determine how they had reached the pinnacle of sorcery.
With that decision made, I began my observation.
Several minutes into my observation.
I felt as though the world had been turned upside down.
Incredible.
That single word said it all.
When I'd met them here before, I hadn't noticed from a distance.
They were still simultaneously activating multiple Skills, just as before.
But by observing them up close this time, I came to understand just how impossibly beyond common sense the things they were doing truly were.
This person was constantly casting minuscule spells and draping them over their own body.
Multiple spells at once.
Just the ones I could confirm — dark, earth, wind, light — four different types of magic running simultaneously.
The sheer precision of those spells drew an involuntary gasp of admiration from me.
What microscopic magic.
Magic was a tool for combat.
That meant power was what was demanded, and magic without power was useless.
Therefore, magic naturally trended toward demanding greater power, growing ever more massive.
And this person shattered that convention with magic at the most infinitesimal scale.
Normally, no one would see any purpose in something like this.
But I was certain.
This was the true essence of sorcery.
The ultimate secret art.
Making something massive wasn't difficult at all.
You simply had to pour that much power into it.
But making something tiny — that was different.
Simply reducing the power you poured in wasn't enough.
Brittle, minuscule constructs, and the precise construction technique required to build them.
The delicate magic power control demanded to channel mana through those fragile structures without destroying them.
There lay the refined technique that brute force could never achieve.
I immediately attempted to replicate the technique.
I started with fire, my strongest element.
The result was failure.
My entire body caught fire in spectacular fashion, and I burned myself.
I frantically extinguished the flames, and couldn't help but laugh.
How incredibly difficult this was.
To think they carried out something this absurd as naturally as breathing!
After that, I tried with various other elements, but the results were uniformly failures.
However, I did reap a harvest.
The reason they were doing this — it was to level up their Skills.
While I was busy failing over and over again, I confirmed that my Skill levels were rising.
Both magic and resistance, the two of them.
Yes — what appeared at first glance to be a pointless exercise was in fact a means of raising Skill levels.
Constantly firing infinitesimal spells at yourself, calibrated to avoid causing any real harm.
Who would ever come up with something like this?
And even if they did, who would actually put it into practice?
Every moment spent with this person brought new discoveries.
I hadn't anticipated quite such a long journey, and my food supplies were nearly exhausted.
Should I head back to town?
No — I couldn't possibly return to town at a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity like this.
Ah, that's right.
Since I was living alongside this person, why not eat the same things they ate?
Whatever meals this person consumed.
There had to be something to it.
I got a stomachache.
It was poison.
I thought I was going to die.
But as expected, this person was remarkable.
A Title called Evil Eater — I'd never heard of such a thing before.
I had to be grateful for the opportunity to earn that Title.
From here on, please allow me to continue honing myself by your side.