Ch 20 The Devil’s Contract

It felt exactly like the very first time Ivan had opened that book as a child. He saw a completely new path, a new possibility.

At first, Ivan hadn’t even registered the man’s presence.

An illusion spell.

A localized barrier.

And a high-tier camouflage spell layered on top of it all.

Ivan’s hyper-sensitive nose could tell the man had flawlessly woven multiple spells together. Yet, there wasn’t a single ripple or trace left in its wake.

The man cast the magic far too naturally. Just as a master swordsman strikes without any wind-up, his spellcasting was the same.

Without even chanting long, drawn-out incantations, mana just bent entirely to his will with his breath.

How, in the world—

Was he a god?

If he was one of the twelve legendary gods said to exist in this world, that level of power would make sense.

The moment the being vanished, he left behind a sun-baked forest breeze.

The only thing the holy one had done was order Ivan to lie to Lenia. Ivan spent the entire next day agonizing over it, wondering what kind of relationship they had.

Maybe I can get a hint from Lenia on how to find him again?

“Ivan, you passed the practical perfectly. And, are you sure you don’t want to join me for tea this afternoon? I acquired some excellent leaves—“

Hearing Professor Eckhart say that, and seeing an A+ on a practical exam he hadn’t even attended, Ivan knew instantly what had happened.

Sure enough, the moment Ivan showed up to class, Lenia immediately cornered him.

“Ivan! Thank you so much for yesterday. Even though you helped me with it, I was nowhere near as good as you. How did you do—I mean, I’m sorry to bother you again, but could you please teach me more on the theories behind it?”

How did he do it? Ivan hadn’t done anything.

“…I-it was a family heirloom. A secret technique. I can’t use it again.”

Ivan recited exactly what the mysterious being had ordered him to say.

The man had merely stolen Ivan’s name to slip into a class, and Lenia didn’t even realize who had been there.

Ivan could see that the other students also had dozens of questions. But after shunning him out to protect their egos, they couldn’t easily talk to him.

The stump of his arm still felt agonizingly light, and he still couldn’t form even a spark of spell at his fingertips. And from that moment on, he aggressively avoided Lenia, in case she figured out something was off.

Surprisingly, Lenia didn’t relentlessly chase him down.

If she possessed even half the insight Ivan did, she probably recognized just how impossibly special that being was.

Maybe she had already realized that the Ivan standing in front of her wasn’t the god she had seen in class.

Of course she did.

Ivan and… him were fundamentally different beings. Ivan couldn’t even be bear to compare himself to the mysterious entity.

To the holy being, coming to this academy was probably just a brief game.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Ivan was nothing more than a momentary piece of pawn caught in his path. The chances of ever seeing him again were zero.

“…Ah.”

Ivan had hoped that a being like him might know a way to cast magic even after losing an arm.

I knew it. I’m just being delusional. There’s no hope.

Avoiding the noisy chaos of the lunch hour, Ivan locked himself alone in an empty workshop.

He swallowed hard as he carefully sanded down the crude wooden prosthetic strapped to his shoulder. He had always been known for his woodworking and carpentry skills back in his village, so carving the physical shape wasn’t difficult.

But that was all it was—a shape.

To truly be useful, he needed a prosthetic that moved according to his will.

A masterpiece crafted with the intricate mechanics of Dwarven engineering, or an artifact imbued with high-dimensional alchemical magic might be the answer. But there was no way a poor farmer’s son like Ivan could ever afford a treasure like that.

All he could do was carve a hunk of wood that barely moved at the joints. It looked like an arm, but it lacked the one thing that mattered: a functional mana circuit.

Ivan reattached the polished prosthetic.

“…I should get back to studying.”

He opened a textbook.

It had been weeks since he had actually attempted to physically train his mana. If he just kept his head down, studying theories of the arcane and mana…

Then what?

His hand froze over the page.

‘Ivan won’t be able to use magic anymore.’

‘There’s always the path of a magicologist.’

‘Alas, the path of magic is incredibly difficult even for those with a healthy body.’

The voices echoed endlessly in his ears.

A choked sob ripped from Ivan’s throat.