Ermes's fist sank deep into Chris's solar plexus.
"Guh—!"
It was a blow augmented with the propulsive force of a magic bullet—not something even a mage who could boost their physical abilities with magic power could withstand.
In truth, Chris's body folded in on itself, and completely drained of strength, he crumpled to the ground.
"Guh...ah..."
Surprisingly, it seemed he had managed to hold on to consciousness.
But that didn't matter—he wouldn't be getting back up again.
Having made that judgment, Ermes casually approached Chris and first—
the ancient magical tool—
recovered the Caduceus.
Chris's magic had relied entirely on that tool's capabilities. With it gone, even if he somehow got back on his feet, there was no way Ermes would lose.
After securing the weapon, Ermes met the gaze of Chris, who stared up at him with an expression of despair.
"Well then, brother. I'm sorry, but I'll have to restrain you. I'd like to keep their Highnesses delayed for as long as possible, you see."
Receiving Ermes's gaze and declaration, Chris trembled all over, raised his face once more, and spoke.
"—That's not fair!!"
In his eyes dwelled an irrepressible jealousy and loathing.
"...What?"
"It's always, always just you! From the moment you were born, you had high magic power, you were blessed with magical talent! You took everything I ever wanted away from me!"
Next, Chris pointed at the jade dial floating above Ermes's left hand and began to shout.
"And what's with that extra magic on top of it! You said you were a failure born without Bloodline Magic — that was all a lie, wasn't it! I know — if you use that, you can wield any Bloodline Magic you want! What the hell, that's cheating! It's not fair! Give it to me too!!"
"—You're the one who's been reaping the benefits of that unfairness all this time."
Yet the moment he found himself on the losing side, he started crying foul. That hardly seemed reasonable.
...However.
"Shut up! Must be nice being you! You've got this amazing magic and you get to do whatever you want without any effort! You don't even care about people like us—"
"If you feel that way, would you like to try using it?"
He understood the feeling of lamenting what you were born with.
Besides, there was one misunderstanding he wanted to correct, so Ermes made the offer.
"...Huh?"
"To clarify — this magic..."
Primal Inscription
"...is not Bloodline Magic. It has nothing to do with bloodline. Anyone can use it if they wish. That is how it was created."
So if Chris wanted to use it, he was welcome to.
With that said, Ermes held his own dial over Chris's hand.
Before long, the same thing began to materialize above Chris's hand as well.
That completed the temporary transfer of magic. Right now, Chris could skip the training needed to activate the spell and use...
Primal Inscription
...as well.
"—Haha."
Understanding what Ermes was getting at, Chris laughed.
"I see, so that's how it is! Of course—there's no way someone like you could use such an absurdly powerful magic! Now, at last, I can also—!"
Elated, he activated the letter plate now in his possession—
"—Huh?"
He froze.
"Can you see it?"
In response, Ermes decided to try something easy to grasp, projecting the
Magic Bullet Archer
before Chris's eyes.
"Now, having passed through the
Primal Inscription
, what do you see above this magic?"
"Wh-what is this?! I... I can only see an incomprehensible jumble of characters and symbols?!"
"
That's exactly right.
That's the scene I always see."
Chris was stunned.
"W-what are those characters supposed to be?!"
"A magic circle—the very core and essence that defines the magic. For instance, let's see—that cluster of rounded characters visible at the top. Those are rune characters. In the case of the
Magic Bullet Archer
, I believe they're what determines the 'enchantment' attribute."
"S-So—if I learn to read those rune characters, I can actually use it?"
"That's right. Just think of it as learning a new language."
Ermes smiled sweetly at her brother, who had proven surprisingly quick on the uptake.
"By the way, there are about 68 more magic-specific language systems just like that one."
"...What?"
Chris froze once again.
In other words, what she was saying was—
That to use the
Primal Inscription,
she'd first need to
learn a grand total of
sixty-nine
new
languages.
That was it.
"For now, that's just the first step."
Ermes pressed on, as if to drive the nail in even further.
"Next come the symbols. They correspond to the borders and shapes of the magic circle—what each form means and how it functions. There are fewer types than the languages, but distinguishing between the subtle pattern differences caused by fine variations in shape is a real pain. Sometimes you'll even encounter circles that were improvised on the spot, so theory alone won't cut it—you also need the intuition to read them by sight. The arrangement of characters factors in as well, so there's no shortcut: you just have to keep decrypting, comparing your predictions against the actual effects, and building up your instincts through repetition."
"No way..."
"Once you've managed all that, you're only halfway done. Then comes the training to actually reproduce the magic you've read—and that's even harder than everything before it."
Chris was beyond words, but Ermes showed no signs of stopping.
"Once you get to the Bloodline Magic class, even if you can read a magic circle, there's practically no way to understand it one hundred percent. That's why recreating it requires the intuition to improvise and fill in the gaps, plus an even deeper understanding than what I've described so far. The wall between comprehension and application is thicker than you'd imagine—you'd have to pile up tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands of practice reproductions. And that's before we even talk about the fact that simply drawing the circle you envisioned in the spot you envisioned it is remarkably difficult—"
"Th-this is ridiculous!!"
At last, Chris could hold back no longer and shouted.
"What the hell is that? It doesn't make any sense! How much effort does it take just to use magic?! There has to be something more—a secret to deciphering this! Don't hold back on me!"
"There isn't. What I just described is all there is."
"That can't be right! No one could use it like this! Deciphering something like this would take who knows how many years—"
"You're right. It took me five years."
Chris's words died in his throat.
This single sentence revealed what Ermes had been doing during all the time he'd vanished from the Royal Capital.
"Thirteen hours of magic practice per day on average. If you kept that up without missing a single day for about five years, you might just barely be able to touch the fringe of what you described as 'being able to use whatever Bloodline Magic you please'—with your little finger, at best. Quite the miraculous magic, wouldn't you say?"
"...This is absurd! It shouldn't take that kind of ridiculous effort just to use magic! Magic is supposed to be miraculous—the way to use it should come naturally..."
"That's not true. Magic is the crystallization of wisdom found at the end of grinding, unglamorous effort. The thing that's truly absurd is Bloodline Magic."
"Th-that..."
Chris wanted to deny Ermes's words, but after being shown such stark results right before his eyes, he had nothing to say.
Chris once again looked at the magic circle displayed before him through the Primal Inscription.
To Chris, it was a grotesque string of symbols so complex it made him feel sick.
How long would it take to read and comprehend all of this, and then become able to draw the same thing?
And even after all that effort, the only thing he'd be able to recreate was this single circle.
The fact that other magic circles of equal complexity existed for every other spell, and that he'd have to repeat this entire process for each one, required no great leap of the imagination.
I thought it was impossible.
From the moment he was born, Chris had possessed powerful magic, and the knowledge of how to use it had come to him naturally, already residing within his body.
There had been no need for any effort whatsoever to master it — he had grown entirely accustomed to the pleasure of wielding powerful magic without the slightest struggle.
The idea that using magic required going through all of this — it was unbearable, he thought.
He knew it would be easy once he acquired it, but just seeing the road he'd have to walk was enough to break his spirit.
He shifted his gaze toward Ermes.
Ermes was watching him. Those emerald eyes — the same as his own, yet more beautifully radiant. As always, they were difficult to read — but for Chris, they carried something that felt unmistakably like pity.
"…Stop… Those eyes…"
He had seen that look countless times. When Ermes had still lived in the Frenbreed household. When Ermes had been celebrated as a prodigy — over and over again.
"Stop, stop, stop! Don't look at me with those eyes!!"
Ermes had stolen everything from him. His parents' expectations, their love, his position as the next marquis — and even the magical talent he had yearned for more than anything.
He had been consumed by fierce envy. Ravaged by bitter jealousy. And above all, the fact that someone like Ermes directed no interest whatsoever toward him made him feel like utterly insignificant nothing — and he could not forgive that.
"Don't look down on me! Don't pity me! Every time you looked at me that way, have you ever once considered what I was going through!!"
It had not taken long for those feelings to fester into hatred. So when Ermes was revealed to be incompatible, Chris had been flooded with dark pleasure and ecstatic joy. He had treated the fallen Ermes cruelly, wallowing in delight, and had thought from the very bottom of his heart:
*It serves you right.*
And yet, now —
The very person everyone had deemed incompatible had acquired extraordinary magic, and was wielding the Bloodline Magic that should have been Chris's own — wielding it even better than Chris himself.
Ermes had deliberately cast that same spell for Chris, the one who had shouted "cheat" — proving beyond any shadow of a doubt that not just talent, but every ounce of thought, effort, and resulting strength he poured into magic surpassed Chris's in every way.
…He no longer knew what emotion to direct at Ermes.
But whether out of sheer inertia or something else, Chris glared at Ermes with nothing but fury in his eyes — and after a moment's thought, Ermes spoke.
"...I'm sorry."
Incredibly, he apologized.
"Ha?"
"I won't forgive you for what you did. But—it's true that back when we were both in the marquis's household, I looked down on you."
"!"
"At that time, raising my magic power was everything to me. I had virtually no interest in anything else—no, I shouldn't sugarcoat it. ...You simply didn't matter to me."
The two of them had actually interacted more after Ermes was found to have Incompatibility than before.
That was just how little there had been between them. ...They were born into the same family, raised under the same roof—blood brothers, and yet.
"But I learned from that. Surely that alone isn't enough—just looking at magic, one can never hope to reach its zenith."
And for the last time, Ermes looked at Chris.
His gaze held an emotion different from anything he had directed at him before.
"What you did to me and what I did to you—neither of those things can be undone. So let me say this one last thing. ...I am truly sorry."
"Stop... stop it..."
Was it frustration? Helplessness?
Words failed him, and the tears welled up. Chris spat out what he could manage.
"Don't screw with me—do you have any idea how cruel that is...? It's too late for you to apologize now... that just makes me feel even more... pathetic...!"
After that, Ermes said nothing more.
For a while, the only sounds were Chris's tears striking the ground and his ragged sobs.
◆
As a person, Ermes had virtually no interest in anything beyond magic.
The tragedy that resulted from it was, without question, his own sin.
He engraved that fact firmly into his heart, then returned to Katia, who was waiting for him.
"Oh, El... um, what about Chris?"
"I neutralized him. He won't be in any condition to fight anymore."
If, back when El had still been living in the Flenbried household...
If he had been able to talk with Chris like a normal brother, things might never have come to this.
But dwelling on it now was pointless. There was nothing he could do for Chris anymore.
"I see... you did well, El. But..."
Hearing words that should undoubtedly have been good news, Katia nonetheless lowered her gaze with a somber expression.
It couldn't be helped. The direction she was looking toward was—
"Ugh..."
"Why is this... this is just too much...!"
The village, still blazing with fierce flames, and the villagers crying out in anguish as they watched it burn.
"Again... it's me..."
"..."
As a person, Ermes had virtually no interest in anything beyond magic.
But that way of thinking had changed as he came to understand magic more deeply upon meeting his master.
The human heart was essential in handling magic power. It was the driving force that pushed one forward in the face of others.
That was why he treasured his feelings. In addition to the innate thinness of them, and to restore what had been worn away by past experience, he had always defended with everything he had the feelings he found beautiful, and never permitted himself to tamper with them.
...But.
Now, that beautiful thing was beginning to break.
And being unable to do anything about it was something he loathed even more.
And so he recalled the words the village chief had spoken to him at the very end.
He turned to her and spoke.
"...Lady Katia, let us leave this place first. And then, please — tell me what is causing you such pain right now."