The Academy’s Weapon Replicator - Chapter 29

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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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The Weapon Duplicator of the Academy, Episode 29
Chapter 9: Menosorfpo (3)
“Interpreting a Magical Circle is, in the end, similar to translation. You identify what’s being invoked by analyzing the set of symbols, their direction, and position. But—”
Daud pointed to a particular section of the Magical Circle.
“I’ve never seen these symbols before. I can find almost none of the standard symbols or grammar typically used in Magical Circles. If we’re treating this like translation, I don’t just not know what the symbol for ‘I’ is—I don’t even know what the basic characters mean.”
Daud spoke with such conviction, as if to say that if he didn’t know something, nobody would.
I scratched my face.
“Do you think I drew the Magical Circle incorrectly, sir?”
Daud, who’d made his distaste plain the moment we met and harbored suspicions about me—he might very well think I’d deliberately sketched a fake Magical Circle to trick him.
And his expression right now looked particularly poor.
“No.”
But Daud shook his head firmly.
“The pattern shows consistency. And the symbols employed are advancing in a uniform direction to activate magical induction. A careless, hastily-drawn fake could never have this structure.”
Whatever his assessment of me might be, he was analyzing the Magical Circle itself with cold precision.
I felt a flicker of admiration.
“You looked displeased, so I worried that might be the case. I apologize.”
“I am displeased. Precisely because it’s a legitimate Magical Circle. The fact that I can’t interpret it is what troubles me.”
Daud fell silent for a moment, his fingers stroking his chin in thought.
After a pause, he spoke again.
“You said you obtained this as a dungeon reward?”
“What kind of dungeon was it?”
“Well, it was a low-rank dungeon. A cave environment, heavily designed with traps, and inhabited by Ratmen….”
“Not that. What was the clearing mechanism of the dungeon? A boss? A switch? A puzzle? How exactly did you resolve it?”
Daud’s question hung in the air.
I glanced briefly at Sybel.
Sybel hadn’t witnessed my process of clearing the dungeon. It was better to keep it that way.
“It was a Shrine.”
I offered a suitable truth.
Finding a Shrine within a dungeon wasn’t common, but it wasn’t extraordinarily rare either.
As long as I concealed the part about resolving it with “I don’t believe in gods,” there would be no real problem.
“…A Shrine.”
Daud’s eyes narrowed.
“Then this Magical Circle could well be in the Ancient Language.”
“The Ancient Language….”
I murmured the words with my breath.
Daud continued.
“Shrines were originally ruins constructed during the era when gods were physically present on this land. If a reward came from such a place, it’s highly likely to be in the Ancient Language. Especially if it’s a collection of symbols like a Magical Circle.”
The Ancient Language.
Literally, a language that existed in ages past but has now been lost.
The reason for its disappearance is unknown, but the most credible hypothesis among modern scholars is simply this:
It was too difficult.
And as a further point:
They must have created it just to be cryptic among themselves.
Such speculation, though, is largely accurate.
The Ancient Language was created by mages for use among themselves.
In fact, the language itself is a form of magic.
The defining characteristic of the Ancient Language is that ‘sound’ and ‘written form’ occur simultaneously.
Those who have mastered the Ancient Language naturally hear the sound when they see the written words.
Since language works that way, the same characters can have countless different meanings. The same text can be pronounced differently quite often.
It goes without saying that an ordinary person looking at the text cannot possibly interpret it.
‘The Ancient Language.’
I examined the Magical Circle I had drawn again.
I too only know what the Ancient Language is in theory; I cannot actually interpret it.
But I had gained a clue. If this Magical Circle is in the Ancient Language, I now understand why nothing happened when I tried to activate it.
As I mentioned earlier, the Ancient Language carries ‘sound’ within its written form.
In other words, this Magical Circle isn’t simply a matter of drawing it and pouring in Mana—one must speak the words aloud. There’s one additional step to its activation.
‘If I recite the Magical Circle’s name, “Menosorfpo,” perhaps it will function correctly.’
Like a character in a manga or game shouting the name of their technique.
Speech would complete this Magical Circle.
‘…But.’
Let’s not do it here.
We don’t know what might happen.
* * *
After Frondieer left.
Daud stood in silence for a long while, studying the Magical Circle that Frondieer had drawn.
Sybel kept watch beside him.
“……Dad, are you still looking at it?”
“Hmm.”
In response to Sybel’s question, Daud pointed to one corner of the Magical Circle with his finger.
“Frondieer, as he called himself. That’s where he first began drawing the Magical Circle.”
The location was at the edge of the Clearing.
Frondieer had started there with a Short sword, inscribing the Magical Circle and giving it form.
“And just as he said, he drew a truly enormous Magical Circle across this entire Clearing.”
“Right, so the remarkable thing is that he retained such detailed memory of a Magical Circle this size?”
“That too. But there’s something else.”
“Something else?”
Daud looked at Sybel, posing his question like a riddle.
“Sybel, if you were to draw a Magical Circle, where would you start? If you were copying something this massive?”
“……Hmm, from the center?”
“Exactly. That’s the normal approach. It’s the best way to balance the Magical Circle. But Frondieer drew from the edges. He drew the outside first, then filled in what lay within. Why do you think that is?”
“……I, I’m not sure?”
Sybel tilted her head, unable to grasp the reasoning.
Daud spoke.
“Frondieer knew the exact range and spacing of the entire Magical Circle. Without a single error in a Magical Circle that would consume nearly all of this Clearing. Do you understand how absurd that is?”
This wasn’t simply a matter of memory.
Beyond merely remembering the shape and symbols of the Magical Circle in meticulous detail, he held in his mind the entire scale of the Circle, the spacing between each symbol, their positions — all of it like a blueprint.
“I’m not sure we should even call this ‘memory.’ If we call it that, everything people have done until now ceases to be memory at all.”
“…….”
Sybel stood with her mouth open in astonishment.
It was already impressive enough to remember the entire shape of a Magical Circle, but to have all the spacing and numbers of every component stored in one’s mind.
“Hm, when you first brought me that spiritless boy, I wondered what it was all about.”
“Ah, what?”
“He’s at least worth the trouble you took to choose him.”
Sybel’s face flushed crimson in an instant.
“That’s not what this is about! How many times do I have to say it!”
“Don’t be so embarrassed. Even this father is beginning to see that fellow in a new light. Though that doesn’t mean my opinion has completely changed. Those sleepy eyes of his — I still can’t overlook them…….”
“Why does he listen to everything else but not this!”
Ding-dong.
Whether by good or bad timing, the doorbell chimed just then.
“Hm, a visitor, it seems. I’ll step away for a moment.”
“It’s fine! I’ll check on it!”
Sybel strode toward the door, her voice still bristling with irritation.
‘Really, what am I supposed to do about Father’s teasing!’
When she opened the door with that momentum,
a man Sybel didn’t know stood before it.
“Hello, you must be Sybel Forté, correct?”
“……Ah, hello? Are you a guest of my father’s?”
“No, I’ve come looking for you, Miss Sybel.”
“For me?”
Sybel tilted her head as she regarded the man with the gentle smile.
His voice was pleasant, and his face resembled something like looking at a harmless herbivore.
“Forgive me for the intrusion. Allow me to introduce myself.”
The man produced a Business card and handed it to Sybel.
Sybel examined the card.
[Serp Daniel]
– Indus Member No. 9
“Indus……?”
Sybel studied the unfamiliar name silently.
“Yes. You’ve heard of us, haven’t you? We are Indus, the organization created to oppose the false sense of superiority held by the nobility.”
“……What business does Indus have with me?”
At Serp’s words, Sybel recalled what the organization called Indus was.
In Ethius’s hierarchical world, discrimination born from that hierarchy was a perpetual problem.
Most people didn’t even recognize such discrimination as discrimination, but Indus was composed of those who felt the injustice of the discrimination perpetrated by nobles and royalty, and who raised their voices for reform.
This organization accepted not only Constel students but any commoner. This man before her, Serp, was likely not a Constel student either. He looked to be past thirty, at least.
Sybel’s perception of Indus was neither favorable nor unfavorable. The truth was she’d given it little thought.
Yet there was a saying that “the enemy of Indus is the enemy of the common people,” so its influence was considerable.
That was why the indifferent Sybel knew what kind of organization it was.
But as a commoner herself, Sybel didn’t think the mere existence of such an organization was necessarily a bad thing.
“I’ll speak plainly—would you not consider joining us at Indus?”
“Me?”
Because of that, she had no particular feelings about such a proposal either way.
It was unexpected, since she hadn’t given it any thought, but it didn’t feel like something bad. Depending on how she felt, she might join, or she might not.
That changed with Serp’s next words.
“Right now, you could take part in a ‘Revolution.'”
“A revolution?”
“Yes. A revolution that abolishes all unjust discrimination and leaves in its wake complete justice and equality.”
Sybel’s mind began to race.
Something felt off.
It felt even more off because Serp seemed to be deliberately making her feel that way.
“……What exactly do you mean by this ‘revolution’?”
“If you join us, you’ll naturally come to understand it in time.”
What kind of con artist pitch was that?
Now that he mentioned being a commoner, something came to mind.
The golem incident involving Edwin von Behertion. An incident where golems were used to assault multiple students.
But it turned out that multiple students had been systematically harassing Edwin—their motivation simply being that he was a “fallen” “noble.” The name of that organization had been Aktober.
Surely Indus wasn’t planning to do something similar?
“Does Indus engage in any… questionable activities?”
“By questionable activities, you mean?”
“Things like targeting a particular noble under the guise of eliminating discrimination, and harming them?”
Sybel didn’t mince her words.
Serp’s expression became uncomfortable. Yet he still wore a smile.
“We simply wish to elevate the power and the voice of the common people.”
“So you are or aren’t?”
To Sybel’s pointed question, Serp’s smile deepened.
“──Such methods are indeed part of our approach.”
“I must decline your invitation. Thank you for coming such a distance. Please leave.”
Sybel bowed her head with perfect courtesy.
At that, Serp released an inevitable sigh, turned on his heel, and walked away. Sybel watched his departing figure in silence, noting how easily he left.
Midway through his exit, Serp suddenly spoke.
“Now that I think of it, there’s something I should inform you of.”
The side of Serp’s face as he spoke was obscured in shadow, his expression unclear.
“To borrow your phrasing,”
Yet he was still smiling, unmistakably so.
“Our next ‘target’ is Frondieer de Loarch.”
“……What did you say?”
“I’m simply telling you.”
And with that, Serp departed.
Sybel felt an unspeakable revulsion creeping across the edges of her cheeks.

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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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