The Crown Prince Who Raises a Side Character

#30 New Adventurer Bern (28) – Interruption

#30 New Adventurer Bern (28) – Interruption

When was it?

There was a time when Blanca harbored such thoughts about Bern.

‘Could it be…has he perhaps learned magic somewhere?’

Originally, inquisitors knew little about magic.

Or rather, even mages themselves can hardly claim true understanding.

Unless one has learned systematically under a professional institution or powerful faction, there are not a few adventurers who declare themselves mages after self-studying with a single spellbook.

To even begin with, many barely know a single spell. How could they possibly claim to ‘know’ magic?

Blanca, at least, had learned directly from her mother, making her quite educated among adventurers. Yet, even Blanca found Bern’s knowledge of magic strangely vast.

“This is a tale I happened to hear from a mage acquaintance.”

It seemed improbable that any mage would simply pass down such advanced knowledge to a mere acquaintance, but Blanca didn’t particularly press the issue.

From the very beginning of their partnership, hadn’t they agreed not to question the source of his powers or knowledge?

Honestly, Bern, who seemed good at everything, showing even this slight vulnerability was rather endearing.

“Magic power, you see, is actually deeply connected to one’s life.”

…Well, even so, at times like this, she couldn’t help but worry if Bern had been swindled by some peculiar fortune teller.

The things he was saying sounded exactly like the kind of nonsense they peddled.

Feeling affection for Bern was one thing, but she wasn’t blindly devoted (which, in truth, Bern seemed to prefer). The mage answered with as gentle a tone as she could muster.

“Is that some kind of metaphor?”

“No, it’s literal. Remember when I told you that ‘a mage who constantly uses ice attribute spells gains magic power specialized in ice’?”

“I do.”

“Then you’ll also remember that a mage who gains unique ice-related properties will see a sharp decline in the effectiveness of spells of other attributes. Even using spells of other attributes can reduce the efficiency of their primary attribute.”

“Of course. That’s why most don’t even bother trying to learn spells outside of their chosen primary attribute. There’s no point if they can’t use them.”

“But… doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

“Odd, how so?”

Bern, seeing Blanca tilt her head in question, rolled up his sleeve to illustrate.

“Think of it like the human body. A hulking brute, muscles and weight inflated for raw strength, would struggle with something like a long-distance run. Even if he’s somewhat better than an average person due to his training, it wouldn’t be very efficient.”

“Well, yeah, because the way he built his body is different in the first place.”

“So, if that brute ran a long distance once or twice, would his muscles and weight noticeably decrease?”

“That’s…”

Of course not.

Unless he neglected his main discipline for an extended period and focused solely on the other, would his body change so easily after just a couple of tries?

Only then did Blanca grasp what Bern was driving at.

“You’re saying it’s strange that using a different elemental magic just once or twice would decrease the efficiency of my specialized element? But, that’s something that actually happens among mages.”

“Yes, the problem is the cause. Frankly, using magic outside your primary element a few times doesn’t meaningfully affect your mana itself. The real problem is the mage’s own perception.”

Like not questioning why an apple falls downwards, Bern logically dissected and explained a principle Blanca had always taken for granted.

“Mana influences the material world, but it’s also heavily influenced by the mind. Mages who constantly spam spells of a specific element often reach the 4th Circle easily because they perceive themselves as ‘that kind of mage.’ Their consciousness, subconsciousness, daily habits, the choices they consider in battle. All of it is biased towards a particular element, so their mana follows suit.”

Therefore, those who master an elemental magic often share personality traits ‘similar to the image’ of that element.

Fire mages tend to be explosive and fierce, ice mages cold and intellectual, and earth mages taciturn and steadfast.

“Was it Karina? The former colleague of yours I met last time seems to be less affected since she only recently reached the 4th Circle. But, given time, she’ll probably start to resemble the element she wields. It’s different if they reach higher Circles and shatter their limitations and preconceived notions, but even then, it takes considerable effort and time to completely shake off that influence.”

Blanca gaped, dumbfounded.

She had never imagined such a correlation between elemental magic and a mage’s personality.

If this were true, if she had abandoned other magics and relentlessly pursued fire magic, it would have been easier to reach mastery, but her personality would have become fiery as well.

Her voice trembling, she asked, “Then, the reason why learning other elemental magic decreases the efficiency of one’s primary element…”

“Simply put, it’s a matter of breaking immersion. Like a thief who gives himself away, the subconscious mind thinks that using a different attribute will affect the original one. In severe cases, the influence can occur even just by remembering a spell in your head, let alone casting it.”

Bern explained that it’s the opposite for a mage who ascends to the Fourth Circle through proper methods, not by shortcuts.

Rather than being dragged along by the nature of their magic, their individual ideologies, personalities, abilities, combat styles, and the like, manifest *as* the nature of their magic.

“So, if you encounter someone with a nasty magical nature, you’d be wise to exercise caution. There’s a high chance they’re problematic in their personality or the means they employ.”

*

Immediately after the guild master transformed into a death knight, the adventurers attempted to flee en masse.

Judging that continuing the fight would be futile, they sought to retreat and regroup.

While that in itself was a strategically sound choice, the problem lay in the purple mist the lich had unleashed.

At first, they only thought it was a fog laced with paralyzing poison and tried to break through while holding their breath. But the adventurers soon realized the true effect of the mist and trembled in terror.

Even a slight gap, not even reaching one meter, was enough to make their nearby companions vanish from sight.

No, not just their sight, but their sound as well.

“Is anyone there!? Please, answer me!”

In the silence, unbroken by any echo, Blanca grit her teeth.

‘It’s not just any mist. This, this purple mist itself, is that lich’s magic!’

If one were to name it: *Misty Labyrinth*.

The layers upon layers of violet fog restricted the senses, carrying all sorts of spells cast by the lich in particle form.

*A magic to numb the body.* *A magic to induce hallucinations.* *A magic to steal body heat.*

Individually, mere weakening or curse-type spells, of little significance.

However, when those spells are haphazardly mixed and infiltrate the body in the form of mist, their effect becomes dramatically amplified.

The victims, fearing enemies that could emerge from anywhere at any moment, would try to escape, only to succumb to the accumulated mist and collapse on the spot.

And so, those who fell, the lich resurrected as undead, as if gathering stray ears of grain.

Magic that held little significance against the strong, but proved brutally efficient against a multitude of the weak.

“Cough, hack!”

Blanca shuddered, a sensation like something toxic continuously seeping into her, from within.

Though she still maintained fighting strength within the fog, thanks to a simultaneous barrage of physical enhancement and healing magic, she didn’t know how long she could endure.

Resolving herself, she conjured a massive fireball in her hand.

*Kwaaang!*

The spell, “Blazing Rock,” detonated on the ground she’d just trod, its heat and concussive force sweeping the fog away.

With sheer willpower, she overcame the searing heat on her skin and launched another fireball into the cleared space.

Again, the fog receded a little, visibility expanded slightly.

It was a terribly fuel-inefficient tactic, but if she wanted to secure her vision while minimizing the chance of hitting allies, there was no other way.

And finally, its merit revealed itself.

“Don’t come closer! I said don’t come closer!”

“Agh! aaagh! Sister! Brother! Save me, please!!”

Gone was her usual affected elegance, Karina’s face contorted with venom as she unleashed a blizzard, halting the undead’s advance.

Renya, caught in Karina’s magic, cowered on the ground, shrieking as icy sleet fell upon his head.

At the desperate, yet somehow deflating, spectacle, Blanca’s eye twitched involuntarily.

Bern, whom she sought, was nowhere to be seen, and *these* were the humans who appeared?

Feeling a renewed sense of resentment, but unable to abandon the only allies she’d managed to find, Blanca incinerated the undead with a fireball before approaching them.

“Karina! Renya! Get ahold of yourselves, immediately!”

“Don’t come closer!!… Eh?”

“Nu-Nunim! Where have you been? This Renya thought something terrible had befallen you, Nunim! My heart felt like it was growing sick with worry!”

Blanca, having secured the dazed Karina and the Renya, who couldn’t resist launching into a torrent of words even for a moment, continued moving, using the same method as before to brighten their surroundings.

Karina spoke urgently.

“Do you even know where the escape route is!?”

“We won’t find it anyway.”

Blanca stated coldly.

“Adventurers with considerable dungeon experience, who still had plenty of energy to spare, attempted to retreat and yet became lost in this fog. What chance do we, already deep within the dungeon, have of reaching the exit unharmed? It’s practically nonexistent. In the worst-case scenario, the exit is blocked, or an ambush awaits.”

Karina asked, her face etched with anxiety.

“Then what are you planning to do?”

“We have to defeat the Lich.”

Karina recoiled.

“Don’t talk nonsense! We couldn’t beat it even when everyone was swarming it! And now, with everyone scattered, you want to charge in with just us!?”

“Because everyone’s scattered, it has meaning.”

Blanca said firmly.

“Even though we suffered a painful counterattack at the end, our efforts in conquering the dungeon weren’t meaningless before that. The Lich’s forces have been greatly reduced, and it’s sent what few remain to hold back the adventurers. Furthermore, it’s already died once. There’s no way it hasn’t suffered some drain.”

The Guild Master hadn’t died in vain, accomplishing nothing.

Perhaps it was odd to use such a phrase for the undead Lich, but the Guild Master had undoubtedly killed the Lich once.

They had been turned around when it used a spare life to revive, but if that spare life was something so easily created, the Lich wouldn’t have been so enraged at the Guild Master.

“When it thinks of itself as the hunter. When it’s deluded into believing that all the adventurers have lost their will to fight and are fleeing. That’s when we have to strike it. Because that gives us even a slightly better chance of survival. Is there anything wrong with my reasoning?”

“…It’s not that I don’t have anything, but I can’t think of another way.”

“Sis, I’ll trust you and follow your lead!”

Karina, though her lips pursed, agreed. Renya looked as if he wanted to bolt at any moment, but sensing that survival was highest at Blanca’s side, he fidgeted and trailed behind her.

Throughout the dungeon, surviving adventurers were fighting against the undead, just as Karina had been. Their complexions were uniformly pale, perhaps due to the mist’s effect.

After rescuing two more adventurers and adding them to their ranks, they finally discovered a third shadow.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Blanca unleashed her full might upon the figure.

*KWA-aaaNG!*

A Lich, having blocked the attack with a wall of bone, etched a semblance of a smile across his skeletal face.

“Oh ho, I was searching for you regardless. You’ve saved me the trouble. Such a good little girl.”

“Enough talk, just die!”

Blanca didn’t bother engaging in lengthy conversation. She simply drew her sword and charged forward.

As predicted, there was only a single Death Knight guarding the Lich’s perimeter.

The Death Knight attempted to intercept Blanca, but before he could even swing his blade, a massive ice shard, conjured by Karina, hurtled towards him.

The knight parried the ice shard with his sword, but Blanca seized upon the opening created by his defense.

Ignoring the Death Knight, she continued her headlong rush towards the Lich.

She could sense Renya and the rescued adventurers engaging the Death Knight in battle behind her.

The Lich conjured blades of dark energy, attempting to halt Blanca’s advance. However, through repeated practice matches with Bern, Blanca’s skills had improved. She dodged and deflected the energy blades, reaching the Lich’s doorstep.

The instant her blade was about to connect with the Lich…

Seeing the Lich’s eyes, which held an unnerving joy as he gazed down at her, Blanca realized something was terribly wrong.

*KA-ANG!*

A blade, abruptly barging in from the side, sent Blanka’s sword spinning from her hand.

The old knight’s sword clattered to the earth.

After disarming her, the ebon sword advancing toward her heart seemed to slow in Blanka’s eyes.

Ah, why had she erred so gravely?

The nature of magic reflects the nature of a life.

One who gnawed and toyed with their prey, bit by bit, would never have failed to anticipate its final struggles.

In the end, she’d simply been weaving plausible excuses because she hadn’t wanted to flee, because she had to seize that Lich somehow, Blanka finally realized.

There was no time for last words.

Therefore, Blanka tried to whisper words that would never leave her mind.

‘I’m sorry. Mother. And, Bern.’

“─Surely you weren’t about to apologize as you abandoned your life, Miss Blanka.”

*Thwack!*

The death knight, who had been about to pierce her heart, flew backward as if struck by a carriage.

Blanka stared, eyes wide, at the man who had appeared before her.

Red hair fluttered in the breeze.

His leather armor, usually so immaculate, was tattered to the point of being rags, and his body was covered in dust and soot, as if he’d been through who knows what.

Yet, his face remained as composed and calm as ever.

A look of displeasure and bewilderment flickered in the Lich’s usually unruffled eyes.

He asked:

“… Who are you? How is it that one who fell into the transference trap stands here?”

Bern replied.

“Fine.”