15

“Sorcery? No—this is just excellent magic. If someone calling themselves a sorcerer can use magic this refined, how could I not look forward to their sorcery as well?”

That was where the difference in perception lay between Sophia and Ains.

For Sophia and the others, this was a battle balanced on the edge of life and death—one wrong move, and either Corbelli or Sophia would lose their life.

But Ains felt none of that tension at all. To him, this was not a battle. It was simply a place where someone interesting happened to be—someone who might show him unfamiliar magic.

“Hey, you. You’re calling my sorcery excellent magic? Don’t get cocky with me!”

Corbelli, having overheard Ains and Sophia, exploded in anger.

“Huh? This is sorcery? Come on, that joke isn’t funny.”

Ains replied with a weary, polite smile.

“You’re not actually a sorcerer, are you? You’ve never even seen sorcery—the kind of magic beyond advanced spells, have you?”

Corbelli continued, clearly irritated.

“…Beyond advanced magic is sorcery? …Ah, I see. A fake.”

Ains muttered to himself and understood.

Still restricted from approaching Corbelli, Ains instead turned his back on him and looked at Sophia and Laika.

“Even if it’s a detour, let’s head to Kirk. Sophia—and sorry, Laika—but we’re going on to Kirk.”

“Ains-sama? What do you mean by that?”

Sophia asked, unable to grasp his intent.

Laika was equally confused.

“Yeah, Ains… Weren’t you going to help us?”

“No. You said bandits were blocking the road to Kirk and that one of them was a sorcerer, so I figured I’d help while I was at it. But after actually coming here…”

Ains glanced back at Corbelli with open pity and continued.

“He’s just a mage posturing as a sorcerer. Honestly, my time with Rito was far more meaningful. I’m not interested in someone who caps out at mage. You can handle the rest yourselves—here, you can keep that bag of potions too.”

Sophia, Laika, and even Corbelli stared at him blankly.

The frozen moment shattered when Corbelli finally shouted.

“…You’ve got some nerve! I’ll kill you right now!! ‘Moving from your spot is a loss!’”

Raking his fingers through his messy black hair in rage, Corbelli layered his attack magic once more.

“Honestly, I’ve already seen the bottom of your magic. At its core, it’s just perception interference. That won’t cut it anymore.”

Ains continued calmly.

“…Spell structure release.”

With a sharp, glass-shattering sound, Ains regained his freedom.

“Release.”

He murmured again, erasing even the attack magic Corbelli had begun to deploy.

“What the hell is that!? What is that!?”

“This? It’s just one of the ‘magic’ spells you already know.”

Any spell whose structure and construction Ains fully understood was no longer a threat. Understanding its structure meant he could intervene—disrupt it—and cancel it entirely.

This was one of Ains’s already-completed magic-converted spells: Dispel.

“And here’s an upgraded version of your specialty. Formal incantation: ‘A fanatic who seeks salvation. Prayers and wishes reach only those who uphold the forbidden.’
Layered conversion—magic conversion: Prohibited Acts.”

Corbelli’s magic was undone, and Ains continued without pause.

He created a new spell on the spot—and immediately completed its magic conversion.

“‘Mana manipulation is prohibited.’”

“Huh?”

Corbelli could do nothing.

Ains’s spell made it impossible for him to manipulate mana—meaning he could no longer use magic at all.

“Your spell just amplifies human perceptions of loss and gain through interference. The idea’s interesting, but practically speaking, it’s still half-baked.”

“W-What are you!? Who the hell are you!? Why can you do this to my sorcery!?”

Corbelli panicked. His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the ground.

“This is simply a further development of your magic. Loss and gain are too soft. If you’re going to impose restrictions, you need to go all the way—prohibition. For example: ‘Breathing is prohibited.’”

Corbelli could no longer breathe.

He knew how to inhale and exhale—but he couldn’t do it. The actions themselves were denied.

“…gh… ggh…!”

Without being able to exhale, he couldn’t even scream. He tried to call for help from the remaining bandits, but no sound came out.

Having one’s breathing forcibly stolen by another—that fear alone was overwhelming.

As Corbelli began clawing at his own throat in panic—

“Well, I guess it’s usable at this level. ‘Breathing is permitted.’”

Ains snapped his fingers, and fresh air rushed back into Corbelli’s lungs.

“Hah… hah… hah…! You—kill him! Kill that silver-haired bastard right now!”

Still on his knees, Corbelli barked orders at the remaining bandits.

Most of the bandits had already been cut down by Laika’s knights, restored by the potions. Fewer than ten remained.

The bandits hesitated.

That was only natural. Even without understanding magic, they could feel how abnormal and overwhelming Ains was.

Seeing their hesitation, Corbelli snapped.

“Damn it! I’ll pay you ten times more! And if you don’t move, I’ll shoot you in the back myself! Now go!”

His bloodshot eyes screamed desperation.

“Laika? Is it okay if I kill them?”

Laika, still stunned by Ains’s mastery of magic and unsure what a mage even truly was, answered blankly.

“…Eh? Yeah. They’re bandits—and criminals who’ve harmed my knights.”

“I see. Then I won’t hold back.”

Ains’s presence changed.

Corbelli and the bandits all felt it.

“You don’t really know what sorcery is, do you? Let me teach you one thing.”

“Limited release: Miracle Right Arm.”