Surviving as a Mage in a Magic Academy - Chapter 834

I was being too complacent. Trying to deal with a lunatic forest through normal means…

What kind of forest handed out branches just because someone gave up?

Worse, from what Lee Han had heard, Gainando had sat down to rest near the forest barely an hour after entering, and a branch had immediately dropped from above.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to try challenging it with evil magic.”

“Hehe. I told you already. Just keep walking.”

“You call that advice at a time like this…?”

Even Lee Han, who was usually good at letting things slide, was starting to get irritated after hearing it over and over.

How was he supposed to calmly keep walking when the forest might suddenly hand out a gift at any moment?

But unlike her usual teasing attitude, Ragesa was completely serious right now. She might enjoy tormenting students, but she never lied about magic.

“I’m serious. There’s no answer besides continuing forward. I told you before, didn’t I? The forest measures your capacity. But how do # Nоvеlight # you think it measures that? The forest isn’t omniscient. In the end, it waits until you genuinely give up. The moment you abandon everything without even a shred of lingering attachment, that’s when it gives you a tree.”

The Gwangmok King’s Forest judged a mage’s capacity through endurance.

The moment someone gave up completely, without even the slightest persistence remaining in their heart—

That was the limit of that mage’s true capacity.

“…!”

Lee Han shuddered at the explanation.

Then he slowly turned to look at Gainando.

Wait a second. Then this idiot genuinely gave up almost immediately??

Technically it had been about an hour after entering, but that hardly changed anything.

How could someone abandon all hope that cleanly without leaving behind even the tiniest scrap of stubbornness?

“So when you said I have to keep walking… you meant the forest won’t believe me even if I say I’m giving up.”

“Exactly! You finally get it?”

Even if Lee Han shouted, “I give up!” the forest would refuse to accept it as long as there was still lingering attachment in his heart.

To truly give up, he had to continue walking through the forest until he reached his absolute limit.

Only after exhaustion hollowed him out completely—when he genuinely wanted to collapse and quit—would the branch finally appear.

“Um. Master? Master?”

Lee Han immediately gave up and called the insane duplicate.

This kind of surrender was incredibly easy.

***

Surprisingly enough, the insane duplicate didn’t get angry.

Instead, he listened to Lee Han’s explanation with complete seriousness.

An opportunity to enter the Spirit King’s Forest and obtain one of its branches was extraordinarily rare.

Naturally, as a mage, Lee Han should secure the finest branch possible and turn it into a staff.

“Couldn’t we just threaten the forest somehow?”

How exactly do you threaten a forest?

“…With powerful, magnificent ancient magic?”

The insane duplicate stared at his disciple with utter contempt.

What do you think magic is, you wretch?

That hit a little too close to home.

Lee Han reflected on himself.

After spending so long at Einroguard learning that magic was not omnipotent, asking something so absurdly irresponsible had been shameless even by his standards.

But there is a method. This royalty shall advise you.

“!”

Lee Han brightened immediately.

As expected, an ancient archmage really was extraordinary.

Keep walking. Until you collapse from exhaustion.

“…”

Do not eat, drink, rest, or sleep. Consider it valuable training.

He’s saying nonsense because his original body became undead.

The main body was already a lich, and this projection had become closer to a thought-form than a living being. Naturally, it no longer needed food or sleep.

Lee Han, however, was still very much alive.

Actually walking until he collapsed sounded borderline impossible.

“Yes. I understand.”

Lee Han decided to treat the insane duplicate’s advice the same way he treated Ragesa’s.

Unfortunately, the insane duplicate was one step ahead of his disciple.

Wretch. Report to me the moment you obtain the branch. I shall personally inspect it.

“…Do we really need to go that far?”

Lee Han faltered when the insane duplicate took this far more seriously than expected.

It wasn’t even a midterm exam. Why inspect this personally?

It is necessary. You are crafting a new staff. If you collapse too quickly out of laziness, I will not forgive you.

The pressure behind the insane duplicate’s words was several times harsher than usual.

Lee Han stiffened immediately.

The other party had tolerated countless complaints and accommodated many of his requests up to now. If that patience finally snapped, there was no telling what this lunatic might actually do.

“Of course. Who do you think I am? I’m your disciple, Master. If I can’t obtain the finest branch here, I’d rather refuse one entirely.”

Wrong, you wretch. What idiotic nonsense are you spouting?

No, seriously. Why is this royalty so petty?

Lee Han had deliberately tried matching the insane duplicate’s grandiose tone, only to get corrected for it.

But wretch. I understand your concerns as well. The more accomplished you become, the harder exhaustion is to reach. Just as enlightenment becomes more difficult the more knowledge one accumulates.

“That’s true. Then what should I do?”

Inflict suffering upon yourself. Asceticism.

“…”

Only increasingly disturbing advice kept coming out.

Lee Han regretted calling him.

He really should have cut the connection earlier.

Ignoring his disciple’s regret entirely, the insane duplicate began listing spells one after another.

Magic that induced heaviness in the limbs. Hunger. Thirst. Fatigue. Drowsiness.

“But Master, I have too much mana. Most curses don’t work on me properly.”

I understand. The suffering of the naturally gifted.

“Thank y—”

I shall teach you how to drive curses into your bones and seep them directly into your soul.

“…”

Ancient magic apparently could not persuade the Gwangmok King’s Forest.

It could, however, teach Lee Han how to lodge curses deep inside his own soul.

“Why were spells like this even developed in the first place?”

You already learned this once before. Your memory is lacking.

“Huh? Ah…”

Lee Han finally realized what the insane duplicate meant.

If it was something he had learned before, then it had to be <Gonadaltes’s Downfall>.

A transcendent form of magic born from the idea of absorbing the world’s pain, curses, and decay.

I see. If it can absorb wounds and curses from others, then naturally it can also force curses into your own bones and soul.

Since the magic itself specialized in absorbing and controlling pain, curses, and corruption, it made sense that countless derivative applications had emerged from it.

Though Lee Han still had absolutely no idea why one of those derivatives had become “embedding curses into your own soul.”

Using it offensively against enemies was understandable.

This, however, was just self-harm.

Concentrate.

Apply the downfall. I’m cursing myself. Not on the surface—draw the unborn curse inward and bury it deep within the bones…

Following the insane duplicate’s instructions, Lee Han repeated the process over and over.

The sensation was unbelievably strange.

The entire process involved exploiting gaps within the existence known as “Lee Han” in order to curse himself.

And in the process, Lee Han was once again reminded of what a monstrous opponent he himself actually was.

What kind of mana is this…?

It was like an impregnable fortress without the slightest opening.

Any curse cast from outside shattered uselessly against it, like eggs thrown at castle walls.

To curse himself, he had to generate the curse from within the fortress itself.

Skin and muscle.

Flesh and blood.

Mana.

Bones.

And beyond them, the soul.

What Lee Han had casually lumped together as “himself” was actually an assembly of separate components that could be divided far more finely than he had ever imagined.

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

Directly—without interference from his mana.

“Become heavy!”

Lee Han flinched at the deeply unpleasant sensation.

The instant the curse settled in place, before his mana could detect and purge the foreign contamination, <Gonadaltes’s Downfall> buried it deep within his bones.

His arms and legs immediately grew heavier.

“Did you see that?!”

You are noisy. Next is the soul.

A mere second-year mage was dissecting his own existence into separate components and casting magic upon them, yet the insane duplicate offered not a single word of praise.

He was truly cold-hearted beyond belief.

Normally, developing awareness of one’s own soul was an essential process in nearly every school of magic.

Especially in fields like the illusion magic school, where spirits and astral entities were common, this kind of awareness was considered fundamental.

But separating one’s own flesh, blood, bones, mana, and organs from the concept of “self” was never easy.

People were surprisingly bad at perceiving themselves as something unfamiliar.

And once someone mastered that perception, they could naturally begin distinguishing the components and souls of others as well.

“Wait. Master. Couldn’t this be applied to other people too?”

Lee Han spoke as realization dawned on him.

At first he had assumed this was merely some grotesque self-harm technique, but its applications were far broader than that.

This perspective itself could probably be applied to others.

Do not behave like an idiot seeing the sunrise for the first time in your life.

That’s way too harsh.

Lee Han grumbled inwardly.

Naturally it seemed obvious to someone who had mastered ancient magic ages ago, but from Lee Han’s perspective, every discovery here was astonishing.

He could practically feel how ancient magic had shaped modern Imperial magic.

“Master. One more question.”

Curse your soul.

Despite the warning, Lee Han stubbornly continued.

After dealing with the insane duplicate for so long, he had become capable of distinguishing genuine fury from merely performative fury.

Of course, “performative fury” still meant the insane duplicate was angry.

It simply meant the level of anger where he probably would not immediately come murder Lee Han.

“Wouldn’t this originally be easier to practice on someone else?”

The question struck a surprisingly sensitive nerve.

In truth, recognizing the components and soul of another person was usually easier than recognizing one’s own.

Ordinary magic was generally easier to cast on oneself, but this sort of self-awareness worked in reverse.

That was why masters in the illusion magic school often made disciples examine the master’s soul and bodily components first.

Even if the disciple made a mistake, the master could respond safely.

Curse your soul. Do not make me repeat myself.

The insane duplicate, however, had no interest whatsoever in what was easier or safer.

He simply wanted Lee Han to bury a curse deep inside his own soul and then learn to remove it.

“Yes. Understood.”

Lee Han prepared himself again.

This time the process resembled what he had done before, but was significantly more difficult.

Past the bones buried deep within his body, he had to place a curse somewhere even deeper—in the soul itself—and bind it tightly using <Gonadaltes’s Downfall>.

It honestly felt excessive just to inflict a curse on himself, but there was no helping it.

“…Become heavy!”

The effect was far stronger than before.

As expected, curses engraved directly onto the soul were vastly more powerful than those placed upon bone.

Following the insane duplicate’s instructions, Lee Han layered additional curses one after another.

His limbs grew heavier.

Fatigue flooded through him.

Drowsiness crashed over him.

Now walk. Think while you walk.

“Think about what?”

Think about the world’s pain and curses. Think about what must be done to erase those hateful things. Think as well about your own pathetic weakness. Rage at your inability to accomplish anything. Refine those thoughts and emotions into power.

“…”

Even through the haze clouding his mind, the insane duplicate’s voice rang with perfect clarity.

Suddenly, Lee Han remembered an old story he had heard about the Skull Principal’s disciples.

Burn yourself.

Or burn the Skull Principal.

Or burn the continent itself.

That was how the saying went…

…I think I finally understand why.

He still didn’t understand what sort of power the insane duplicate wanted him to draw out.

But somehow, Lee Han had the distinct feeling that whatever power emerged from this process might eventually end up directed at the insane duplicate himself.