Memoirs of a Wicked Magician - Chapter 4

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 4
“Don’t be afraid. It’s all right, I’m here. I’m your sister—if anyone lays a hand on you, I won’t let them walk away.”
Even as she spoke, Caliorna tried to reassure Liriope, though anxiety clawed at her own chest.
Watching her, Liriope swallowed the fear rising compulsively within her and fought to steady the nausea roiling in her stomach.
Then, as the panic began to recede, her mind grew calmer and she could think through the situation with something approaching reason.
‘Who are you? Why are you speaking inside my head?’
[This is no time for such questions. I went to the trouble of reversing time itself—if you don’t wish to die pointlessly this very day, straighten your wits at once.]
The tone, though admonishing, was almost beside the point.
It was the staggering meaning beneath the voice in her mind that made Liriope catch her breath.
What had it just said?
Reversed time?
‘Then… this isn’t a dream? This isn’t the afterlife?’
[No. It’s real.]
A sensation—whether a shiver or a chill—raced through her entire body.
Real.
Her sister was alive. No tragedy had begun yet. This was real.
Time Reversal—a feat impossible even for the Southern Mage Tower’s master, known as the greatest sorcerer of this age. By all logic, it made no sense.
Yet Liriope grasped it instantly, almost to her own astonishment.
Was it because everything in this place had felt too vivid, too present since she awoke?
Or perhaps because she wanted desperately to believe it?
Whatever the reason, Liriope knew instinctively that the unknown voice was telling the truth.
[Contractor, you must already sense it—the Ceremony of Selection cannot be avoided. So refrain from causing needless trouble and stay quiet.]
But the elation that had risen in her chest died at once, doused as if by ice water.
‘This can’t be happening. You’re telling me I have to become a Mage of Belegoat again?’
If she had truly returned to the past, how could this be?
To demand she crawl back into this hell—what absurdity was this?
Mixed with doubt and desperation, Liriope pressed urgently.
‘You reversed time? Then why today? We could have gone back to before I even entered the Northern Mage Tower. Why bring me back to this moment specifically?’
[I did not choose it. It is connected to the yearning that awakened me—your yearning.]
The voice in her mind spoke with a trace of irritation at being questioned.
[Did you not wish to return to a time when you and your sister could look each other in the eye and smile with genuine joy? Perhaps this day was the last moment when such a thing was possible.]
At those words, something turbulent surged in Liriope’s chest.
The moment she had lost consciousness in the Rainy Forest and opened her eyes again, that image was the first thing she saw.
Her sister’s face, luminous with untainted happiness as she ate fresh bread in the warmth of their room.
The time before the Ceremony of Selection, before entering the Northern Mage Tower—that had been the last moment of true happiness for them both.
Even afterward, before Caliorna grew cold, she would sometimes smile with an adult’s gentleness during those harsh days, reassuring Liriope.
In those moments, Liriope too could forget her troubles and laugh alongside her sister.
But had Caliorna never truly been all right, even then?
Had she forced herself to appear composed before her younger sister all along?
Just as she was doing now.
“Come now, enter. It seems we’re still in time. Go to the center of the Ceremonial Hall and stand with the other children. Once the Ceremony of Selection concludes, you will be reborn as true members of Belegoat.”
The female mage who had escorted Liriope and Caliorna prodded them toward the small door.
Liriope attempted to summon her magical power, hoping against hope, but nothing changed.
She was back in the body of a child, before a Mana Core had been formed within her.
Not that it would have mattered much—she who had been called half-disabled her entire life, what good would magic have done her anyway?
‘Is it truly impossible to change what happens today? Must I simply endure the Ceremony of Selection and become a Mage of Belegoat once more?’
A faint sense of futility and resignation bloomed in her heart, then faded just as quickly.
No—to despair so easily was shameful.
What did it matter if she had to live this hell again as a half-disabled mage?
Wasn’t she already receiving a miracle that would never come twice?
She knew roughly what the future held. At the very least, she might be able to change Caliorna’s fate. For that alone, Liriope would sell her soul to the devil.
[What…? Did you just call me a devil? You cheeky little wretch…….]
‘Never mind. If I can’t escape it, I’ll accept it. I don’t care what you are or what you want. Even if it’s my life or my soul you’re after, I’ll give it. If one lifetime isn’t enough, I’ll gladly pay the price in the next.’
Thud-click, crash!
As if invisible fate itself had shoved her forward, the heavy door swung shut behind them with a dull, final sound.
‘As long as I can save Caliorna, nothing else matters.’
Inside the large chamber, where a dank and oppressive air hung thick, children gathered in nervous clusters.
By sheer coincidence, the boys who had harassed them in the Dining Hall stood near the entrance and spotted the sisters first.
“What’s with you two? Why are you only just arriving?”
The red-haired boy groused with his usual obnoxious tone.
“If you two make the ceremony late, you’re paying for it. I didn’t even finish eating properly before—had my stomach less full so I’d have room for the good stuff—and now it’s already digesting from waiting for you.”
“The captain’s right, you owe us!”
“Yeah! Each of you give up a piece of meat for our captain!”
The smaller children trailing the boy folded their arms and jeered at the sisters.
It was hardly threatening, but the boy who led them seemed pleased by his followers’ loyalty.
“Hey there, kid.”
Just then, one of the mages escorting the children approached and patted the red-haired boy encouragingly on the shoulder.
“I’ve put my faith in you for this cohort. So show some grit, survive, and I’ll see you at my estate.”
The mage left with a meaningful smile.
“What was that about?”
The boy touched the shoulder the mage had patted, muttering uneasily.
For the first time, a look of discomfort flickered across his face, as if he sensed something ominous in those words.
“Everyone, pay attention! The Ceremony of Selection will now begin.”
Then a middle-aged mage, who had been studying the ceiling as if confirming something, turned to focus the children.
“Today, you are to be reborn as members of the proud Belegoat. Unfortunately, not all of you are worthy of such honor—but this too is a necessary sacrifice and trial for the glory and prosperity of the great Northern Mage Tower. So I trust you will show resolve and that as many as possible will survive this day.”
“What do you mea—?”
Before the children could even voice their confusion at his words, the Magic Circle drawn on the ceiling activated.
A low, ominous hum filled the chamber.
A sickly, suffocating darkness poured in, smothering the entire room in magical power.
Like a sentient creature, it opened its greedy maw and devoured the defenseless children whole.
In an instant, from somewhere to the side came a wet, violent sound, and the floor turned red.
Where a child had stood unharmed just moments before, only a vivid bloodstain remained—the boy himself, gone without even a scream.
He was unlucky to have the worst aptitude for becoming a mage of the Northern Mage Tower, but fortunate to have died without understanding what was happening to him.
“Ahhh, ahhhhhhh……! D-dead, ugh, cough!”
As someone else shrieked in agony and coughed blood, the merciless selection had begun.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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