Episode 834

‘I was too complacent. Trying normal methods on a mad forest.’

What kind of forest gives you a branch if you give up?

Apparently, Gainando said he got his branch just by sitting near the forest and resting from the start—one just fell down from above.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to try an evil magic approach.”

“Hehe. I told you, just keep walking.”

“Is that something you call advice…”

Even Lee Han, who usually let things slide, felt annoyed after hearing this on repeat.

Was he supposed to just keep wandering, not knowing when—or if—the forest would present its gift?

But Lagesa was quite serious.

Though he enjoyed messing with students, he never lied about magic.

“Truly, the only answer is to keep walking. Didn’t I tell you? The forest judges your breadth of mind. Now, how do you think it measures that? The forest isn’t omniscient. In the end, it sees when you truly give up. Not a single trace of regret—only when you honestly, completely quit does a tree come to you.”

The King of Broadcloth’s forest judged a magician’s breadth by their endurance.

When you gave up without even a sliver of lingering will left inside.

That was your true capacity as a magician.

“…!”

Lee Han shuddered as he listened to the explanation.

And looked at Gainando.

‘Does that mean this guy gave up, completely and genuinely, right from the start??’

To be precise, it had taken him about an hour—but that hardly made a difference.

How does someone drop all hope, without even a flicker left behind, so cleanly?

“So, what you meant by ‘keep wandering’ is that even if I declare I’ve given up, the forest won’t believe it.”

“Exactly! Now you get it?”

Even if Lee Han said out loud, “I give up!”, if he held any lingering attachment in his heart, the forest wouldn’t accept it.

He’d have to wander, forcing himself to extremes, until he genuinely wanted to quit.

When it became too much, and he truly wanted to give up—

That was when the branch would finally appear.

“Uh, Master? Master?”

Lee Han gave up right away and summoned the Mad Clone.

This kind of giving up was so easy!

• * *

Indeed.

The Mad Clone, surprisingly, did not lash out, but listened seriously to Lee Han.

An opportunity to receive a branch from the Spirit King’s forest was a rare thing.

If you’re a magician, you should get the very best branch and shape it into your staff.

“Is there a way to threaten the forest, perhaps?”

How exactly do you threaten a forest?

“…With ancient, mighty, and powerful magic?”

At his disciple’s pathetically clueless question, the Mad Clone glared in contempt.

What do you take magic for, wretch?

‘Struck where it hurts.’

Lee Han reflected.

He’d been taught again and again at Einrogard that magic isn’t omnipotent—yet here he was, making such an irresponsible demand.

But there is a way. Royalty will give you advice.

“!”

Lee Han was delighted at the reassuring advice.

Of course, an ancient archmage was on a different level.

Keep walking. Until you’re exhausted.

“……”

Don’t eat, don’t drink, don’t rest, don’t sleep. It’ll be a great experience.

‘Now he’s just being reckless since his main body’s undead.’

His original body had become a lich, and this clone was more a being of thought than life—so he had no appetite or need for sleep.

But Lee Han was still very much alive, so this was out of the question.

How long would he have to walk to reach genuine collapse?

“Yes, understood.”

Lee Han decided to disregard the Mad Clone’s words, just like Lagesa’s.

But the Mad Clone, as befitted a master, was one step ahead.

Wretch. When you get your branch, report to me. I’ll examine it myself.

“…Is that really necessary?”

Lee Han was taken aback by the unexpected seriousness.

This wasn’t a midterm, so why was he being tested?

Of course it is. You’re making a new staff. If you slack off and collapse early, I won’t forgive it.

The Mad Clone’s tone bore several times its usual pressure.

Knowing how much his master had tolerated and endured his impudence before, Lee Han felt tense.

If the Mad Clone lost his patience and went berserk, there was no telling what he’d do.

“Of course. Who am I? I’m the disciple of the Master. If I can’t get the best branch here, I’ll just refuse instead!”

That’s completely wrong, wretch. What nonsense are you saying?

‘Jeez, so petty for royalty.’

He’d gotten caught up in the tone and tried to speak like royalty, but was instantly called out and grumbled inside.

Still, wretch. I also understand your worry. The further you reach, the harder it is to become exhausted—just like the more you know, the harder it is to break through.

“That’s right. What should I do?”

Give yourself pain. Asceticism.

“……”

The advice was so unexpected that Lee Han regretted summoning him today.

He should have cut off the call right then…

Nevertheless, the Mad Clone began demonstrating various magics.

He explained spells to make Lee Han’s limbs heavy, to bring hunger, thirst, weakness, sleep…

“But Master, I have so much mana that these curses don’t really work on me.”

I understand. The trouble of the gifted.

“Thank you…”

I’ll teach you to let the curse flow into your bones, and let it flow into your very soul.

“……”

Even if ancient magic couldn’t persuade the forest of the King of Broadcloth, at least Lee Han could use magic to channel curses deep into his bones and soul.

“Why was this kind of magic originally developed?”

Didn’t you learn this last time? Your memory is poor.

“Huh? Oh…”

Lee Han suddenly realized what it was.

If it was magic learned before, it was -Gonadaltes’s Ruin-.

A transcendental magic created in the spirit of absorbing the pain, curse, and destruction of the world.

‘I get it. If you can absorb another’s wounds or curses, there’s no reason you couldn’t channel a curse into your own bones or soul.’

And since the magic was about absorbing and mastering pain, curse, and ruin, it made sense that all sorts of derivatives would follow.

Though why anyone would bother devising a derivative to insert curses deep into their own soul…

At least things like offensive uses made sense, but this just seemed like pure self-harm.

Focus.

‘I’m adapting Ruin. I’m cursing myself. Not outwardly, but absorbing an uncreated curse into the core of my bones…’

Following the Mad Clone’s instructions, Lee Han repeated the attempt.

It was a truly bizarre sensation.

This whole process—trying somehow to find a gap in his own defenses to curse himself.

And Lee Han realized all over again that he was a frustrating opponent.

‘What’s with all this mana…’

Not a single chink—the very definition of an impregnable fortress.

Throwing a curse from the outside was like throwing an egg at a castle wall: it broke without a trace.

He had to make the curse inside the walls and absorb it himself.

Skin and muscle, flesh and blood and mana, and then bone, and within that, soul…

What he thought of as “himself” turned out to be a composite of far more fragmented elements than he’d realized.

At that moment, Lee Han realized he could curse his own bones directly.

Evading the interference of his mana, immediately.

“Get heavy!”

Feeling the curse’s unpleasant sensation for the first time, Lee Han was startled.

After casting, before his mana could sense and process the noxious foreign element, -Gonadaltes’s Ruin- stashed it deep in the bones.

His arms and legs definitely felt heavier. Lee Han rejoiced.

“Did you see, Master?!”

Quiet. Next is the soul.

Even though a mere second-year magician had just attained self-observation, partitioned his components, and cast a spell, the Mad Clone didn’t praise him in the slightest. He was ruthless.

For magicians, grasping their own soul as a distinct entity was important in all schools.

Especially for those like the Illusion School, where dealing with spirit or astral bodies was essential.

But distinguishing every organ, flesh, blood, mana, and bone wasn’t easy for any magician.

The concept of “oneself” was surprisingly resistant to being seen as foreign.

Having accomplished this, it was now possible to distinguish and cast spells on another’s components or soul as well.

“Wait, Master. This could be applied while casting on others, right?”

Lee Han belatedly realized and asked.

He’d thought it a self-harming spell, but the applications were broader than he’d realized.

He could easily extend that focus to others.

Don’t act like a fool who just discovered the sun rising for the first time.

‘That’s too harsh.’

Lee Han grumbled inwardly.

Sure, having learned and done all this in ancient times, it might feel obvious to his master, but to Lee Han, each part felt astonishing.

He got a sense of how much ancient magics affected the present imperial magics.

“Master. I have one more question.”

Curse your soul.

Despite the Mad Clone’s warning, Lee Han kept talking.

After dealing with the Mad Clone for so long, he could now distinguish between true and fake rage.

(Not that fake rage didn’t mean he wasn’t mad. It just meant he wouldn’t chase Lee Han down and try to kill him.)

“Isn’t it actually easier to practice this by working on someone else?”

Lee Han’s question was surprisingly sharp.

In truth, it was easier to grasp another’s components and soul than one’s own.

Most general magics are easier to self-cast, but awareness and perception of the soul are much harder with oneself.

Thus, illusion school masters often had apprentices practice by detecting the master’s components and soul.

If the apprentice erred, the master could always respond.

I said, curse your soul. Don’t make me say it again.

But the Mad Clone had little interest in what was harder or easier.

He just wanted to have Lee Han curse his soul so he could get him walking.

“Yes. Understood.”

Lee Han, feeling he couldn’t push it further, prepared again.

It was similar to what he’d just done, but a bit trickier.

Beyond bone, casting a curse into the very depths of the soul, then using Gonadaltes’s Ruin to bind it tightly.

It felt almost excessive, all this just for a single self-cast curse, but it couldn’t be helped.

“Get heavy!”

This time, he felt a far stronger effect.

As expected, a curse etched into the soul was far more potent than one on bone.

Following the Mad Clone’s advice, Lee Han began stacking on more curses. His limbs grew heavier, and fatigue and drowsiness overwhelmed him.

Now, walk. Think as you walk.

“Think about what?”

Think about all the pain and curse in the world. What must one do to rid this wretched world of pain and curse? Wretch, think of your own weakness. Let yourself seethe at your helplessness, unable to do anything. Turn that thought and those feelings into power.

“……”

Even as his mind blurred, the Mad Clone’s voice came through crystal clear.

Suddenly, Lee Han remembered the stories he’d heard about the Skull Principal’s apprentices.

To burn themselves, the Skull Principal, or even the continent.

That seemed to be how it went…

‘…For some reason, I feel like I get that now…’

He still didn’t understand exactly what power the Mad Clone meant to draw out, but he couldn’t shake the feeling it might one day come flying back at the Mad Clone himself.