Memoirs of a Wicked Magician - Chapter 91

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

Chapter 91
Now she understood that oppressive aura—that terrible, suffocating presence that could crush her with a single finger.
Before time’s reversal, she had only ever glimpsed this woman’s shadow from a distance. Now that woman stood close enough to look down at her, and Liriope could feel every inch of that proximity.
Seraphina Belegoth.
One of only two great 8th Rank mages in this era.
Though her eyes remained fixed on the floor, she could not lift her head—and the radiance pouring down from above threatened to blind her.
Kneel. Submit yourself at once.
It was as if the very air, the light, the wind of the world pressed down upon her, issuing that command.
Liriope bit her lip hard, fighting against an inexplicable compulsion to obey that now invaded her mind.
Blood beaded on her pale lips, and cold sweat drenched her back in an instant.
It was like standing before something impossibly distant and ancient—something that belonged to neither height nor depth, only to mystery itself. A primal terror that burrowed into her very bones, and her breath came thin and shallow.
How was this possible?
How could any person wield such a presence?
And why had she been summoned here?
Liriope could not fathom why the master of Belegot had suddenly appeared before her.
Was she merely caught in the sweep of others being called—Evangeline and the other boys among them—nothing but collateral in someone else’s design?
Yet when she saw Liriope kneel, the master’s voice had asked for her name with such certainty, such lack of hesitation, that it seemed this meeting was anything but chance or mistake.
To Liriope, it was an unhoped-for calamity, and with no way to guess at its meaning, her heart pounded harder and harder, as if it might burst from her chest.
[Breathe.]
“…!”
A sharp sting of Mana pierced her sternum.
Ode’s subtle surge of power breathed life back into Liriope’s suffocating lungs and set the blood flowing again through her frozen veins.
Her mind, numbed by irrational terror, began to clear.
Liriope parted her trembling lips and drew in a shallow breath, slowly, carefully.
A prickling sensation returned to her rigid fingers.
She pressed down hard at their tips and, with effort, lifted her upper body slightly from its humiliating prostration.
“How interesting.”
A low, almost youthful laugh emerged from ahead of her.
The woman’s voice—ancient as an eon—clung to her eardrums like soot.
She moved, and the rustle of her robes whispered softly through the air. Then her slow voice spread like mist through the heavy silence.
“A more amusing child than I expected. As one more has yet to arrive, when all are gathered, I shall tell you why I have called you here.”
Crash!
But there was no need to wait longer.
A door burst open violently, and a vicious cold rolled in like a tidal wave. At the same moment, the master of the Magic Tower’s laughter rang out more sharply than before.
“Ah, Belkieros.”
In that instant, Liriope’s eye twitched.
“You have rushed here in quite a hurry, my son.”
A familiar name cut through the frozen air and reached her ear.
And at once, a boy’s voice—one Liriope knew well—poured into the chamber with a sharpness that matched the cold flooding in.
“What are you doing?”
His voice was savage, as if he were grinding his teeth and spitting out the words.
“I was about to explain, as it happens.”
Yet the master of the Magic Tower, Seraphina, spoke in a tone utterly at ease as she addressed the Belegoth children who were now gathering one by one.
“My beloved sons and daughters—has not Hyde’s departure left a vacancy among you? And so today I thought I would bestow my Grace upon this child.”
Liriope’s eyes, fixed to the floor, trembled for a moment.
Grace? She could not begin to understand what that word meant.
It was easy enough to guess that the “child” the master had named was herself, and that suspicion only deepened Liriope’s wariness of whatever this woman was saying.
When the master finished speaking, piercing stares came from all directions at once, which made it worse still.
Fascination, shock, confusion, bewilderment, curiosity, hostility….
Eight boys and girls kneeling beside Liriope—all except the one who had just burst through the door—poured their varied emotions upon her in a single flood of gazes.
Among them, Evangeline, looking particularly flustered, challenged the master.
“This child…you mean her?”
“Yes, she caught my eye some time ago. But seeing her near now, she seems to have promise. Perhaps I should say my eye for talent is not so poor after all.”
Something in the master’s latter words carried a faint, veiled mockery—as if she were speaking of someone other than herself.
“Your name is Liriope, is it not? Do you not desire stronger power?”
And this time her voice thundered forth directly toward Liriope.
“Would you not wish to possess infinite vitality—a life that would never wear away, even through endless deaths?”
Liriope felt her mind reel.
Stronger power. Infinite vitality.
The words whispered like a tempting bait—things any person might covet once in their life—yet she could not understand how the master of the Magic Tower, no god herself, could grant such things.
“All the children here I have shaped with my own hands and brought forth as my masterpieces, truly worthy of the Belegoth name—my most cherished sons and daughters. And today, you too could become as they are.”
Then the master singled out the boy who had been radiating murderous intent all this while.
“What do you say, Belkieros? Does my thinking please you?”
A low, searing laugh rang out—burning hot despite the cold that suffused the air.
“Does my opinion matter to you, Master?”
“Of course, my son. It is your limbs we increase, after all. Your consent is essential.”
“Then if you insist on hearing it, I shall answer….”
A terrible, suffocating pressure suddenly rose from Belkieros.
“I will kill her.”
“What?”
“If you bestow the Ritual Transformation upon her, I will kill her without fail.”
A silence fell—one so frigid it seemed to stop all breath—and choked the room.
Liriope’s fists, clenched tight until now, dug so deep into her palms that her nails drew blood.
“Hah… ahahaha!”
But from the master came a great, booming laugh.
“Belkieros, you make me laugh today. I never knew you had such a face in you.”
The master regarded his words as amusing.
“You have always hated expanding your circle of siblings in this way, that much I know. But no matter how much you hate it, tell me—could you truly kill this child simply because she took a form you did not wish? I see only boyish pique in your bravado.”
She spoke as if chiding a foolish child.
“Listen, Belkieros. Have I not taught you again and again—if there is something you do not wish to lose, keep it hidden from all eyes? Or from the very start, make it so completely your own that no one else could ever covet it. Since my son still fumbles so, I offer you this chance myself. Now, will you accede to my words?”
Belkieros clenched his jaw so hard his face trembled.
“I refuse.”
“Then so be it. Since you refuse so adamantly, I shall give the others their opportunity.”
The master smiled with her eyes closed and turned to her children.
“My beloved sons and daughters—which of you will subdue this child? You have my permission.”
“Did I not say I would kill her?”
“Try then.”
The master spoke as if she knew he would do no such thing, and Belkieros did not hesitate.
Rip! Crack—!
“Aagh!”
“What—?! Belkieros, are you insane—?!”
With her head still bowed, still rigid, Liriope’s ears were assailed by a piercing scream. In rapid succession came sounds of things bursting, crushing, tearing—the terrible cacophony of many Mana waves unleashing at once in complete chaos.
“Who said they would kill her?”
Between those sounds, a voice fell like a lightning bolt.
“Master’s beloved works, Mother’s cherished children—if you dare lay a hand on this child, I will kill you all, again and again, until none remain.”
Belkieros slaughtered every sibling who had shown even the slightest interest when the master spoke of Liriope, or who had merely glanced in her direction—all of them.
“He’s completely insane, isn’t he?”
Evangeline, who had escaped the killing intent, muttered a horrified curse from nearby.
Liriope slowly lifted her head, fighting against the oppressive force that held her still.
At last her eyes came up, and they fell upon a figure sitting in a high seat—a woman like a black sun.
Hair long and dark as if pulled from the night itself, and eyes of brilliant gold that burned with a light merciless and inhuman, cold and pitiless.
And there, within the sweep of her gaze, stood another figure….
A boy with black hair and golden eyes, whose face and every expression so closely resembled the master of the Magic Tower.
There stood Belkieros, transformed into something utterly different from the Belkieros Liriope knew.

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