Chapter 16: The Ouroboros’s Awakening

Conrad vanished from his spot, leaving only Mo Ya and Akuma behind.

Mo Ya raised his arm.

Upon his forearm, a black and crimson Ouroboros tattoo clearly emerged, appearing eerily sinister.

Mo Ya recalled Conrad’s words from just minutes ago.

[This, well, it should be something that allows you to survive better in this world.]

Whether those words held a deeper meaning, Mo Ya could not discern. Yet, this uncertainty did not significantly disrupt his thoughts.

For Mo Ya, one fact remained undeniable: for a fleeting moment, he had failed to track Conrad’s movements.

‘Conrad… If my peak self were to engage him in a true battle, what would the outcome be?’

The mere thought ignited a spark in Mo Ya’s eyes, stirring a thrilling excitement within him.

“This tattoo is…”

Akuma stood to one side, casting an incredulous gaze upon Mo Ya. Following her line of sight, the tattoo seemed to pulse with a sense of life, as if it were a living creature.

Mo Ya intently scrutinized the mark branded on his hand, a subtle frown creasing his brow.

“Who knows? But an instructor wouldn’t harm their student, would they?”

***

The Academy of Magic served as an isolated training ground for elite mages, secluded from the outside world.

It once functioned as the training headquarters for the kingdom’s “Puppet” unit. However, with the current headmaster’s ascension, the Puppet organization was entirely and thoroughly eradicated, leaving no trace.

This was considered ill tidings for the kingdom, yet the headmaster held a different view. Thus, at least during their tenure, the kingdom could not establish the Puppet unit’s training here.

Now, with this academy as its focal point, a story began to unfold in a kingdom located several kilometers to the west.

Light streamed into a dimly lit room, its interior previously obscured, as a grand door swung open.

Naturally, the door did not open on its own. A man pushed aside the magnificent entrance, crafted from precious materials, and stepped inside.

Deprived of human support, the opened door slowly closed once more, blocking out the light that had pierced the darkness.

Darkness reclaimed every corner of the room.

The man who had entered took slow, deliberate steps. He stopped in the very center of the room, then bent his knees, assuming a half-kneeling posture.

“Number Three, mission accomplished.”

He referred to himself as Number Three, speaking in a voice devoid of any emotional fluctuation. The mechanical tone echoed with startling clarity through the room.

As if in response to his words, footsteps emerged from the darkness, and a figure slowly materialized before him.

Their voice followed, carried on the air.

“You’ve worked hard.”

It was not a robust voice. Rather than a deliberate whisper, it sounded more like a lack of vital energy.

Indeed, standing before Number Three was an old man with a head of white hair. He wore the deep blue military uniform of the kingdom.

“Have all the Corrosive Swarms in that village been eliminated?”

The old man walked up to Number Three, casting a condescending gaze upon him.

“As you wished, Pisces.”

Number Three replied mechanically to Pisces, calling him by name without any pretense of etiquette or discipline.

Yet, the old man did not take offense.

He understood perfectly that the person before him possessed no such emotion as ‘subtlety.’ As a member of the Puppet unit, he demonstrated this trait perfectly, even when facing a superior.

“Very good…”

Pisces nodded in approval, preparing to commend Number Three. However, Number Three did not grant him the opportunity, interrupting Pisces’s words.

“What is the next mission?”

Number Three cut short Pisces’s exclamation, immediately steering the conversation back to his own agenda.

For him, the world comprised only four steps: mission, execution, slaughter, and completion. Among these, only the act of slaughter offered a slight release for his muscles and bones, a small treasure the world had granted him.

The thrill of gushing blood was unparalleled, he knew this intimately. Yet, he did not comprehend that this was the instinct of a beast, not the emotion of a human.

“Don’t be so hasty. Did you… complete the cleanup?”

“Yes, all those with malicious intent and negative emotions have been eliminated. Without the support of these emotions, the Corrosive Realm Gate will soon vanish.”

“Excellent… Then, I shall give you your next mission.”

Pisces turned his body, casting his gaze toward the inky black distance.

“The town of Akaro, in the west. Go execute your mission.”

“Understood.”

Number Three nodded. He stood up and turned, exiting the room.

The heavy, ornate door closed once more, leaving only Pisces in the room.

He smiled, his lips peeling back in a wide, chilling grin that sent shivers down one’s spine.

“Truly… machines like the Puppets are the most useful.”

***

As night slowly descended, the trial came to an end.

Mo Ya and Akuma had long since returned to their room. Currently, Mo Ya lay on the upper bunk, ceaselessly observing the Ouroboros mark on his right arm.

As Conrad had told him, he felt no discomfort in his body. Still, he couldn’t quite grasp why the instructor would act this way toward a complete stranger.

Mo Ya lifted his right arm, lost in thought.

Then, as if he had discovered an invaluable treasure, his eyes widened in shock.

For, on his raised right arm, the Ouroboros was subtly writhing, moving like a true serpent.

And as the serpent moved, Mo Ya saw—the ‘veins’ of magic emerging in his hand. Without a doubt, they were the conduits of magic itself.