3 A Grim Conclusion (1/2)

Now.

Close to the waterfall, sat a female figure in a truly sorry state.

Even in her normal condition, Morgana could never truly be called beautiful. Her hair was always too messy, her nose, a little too large, and she had deep shadows beneath the eyes from hours and hours of sleepless study. Besides her pale skin gave an unhealthy glean even before she was wounded.

Now, without the ornaments that usually granted her a certain air of nobility, using tattered clothes, and having lost a lot of blood, she now looked like the ghost of a poor eighteen-year-old woman, destined to haunt this place forever.

That's right, even though this was a five-hundred-year-old dark wizard, she still looked like an eighteen-year-old. At least this much she could brag about.

....

Morgana started to think about the future, making plans. She knew that, at very least from short to medium term, returning to her homeworld was not an option. The mirror, after all, was a one-way ticket.

According to the writings on the archeological site where she uncovered the relic, this was a disposable item for those who made it.

It was common knowledge in the Northumbrian Continent that more advanced civilizations existed in the past, but for some reason they all vanished.

The mirror itself belongs to this immemorial past. As far as Morgana could tell the organization known as the Ianomâmi-Tupi Sect used these artifacts as a material to test its disciples. When a student was deemed ready for his or her initiation, a rite of passage was performed.

They were left alone in one random world somewhere in the multiverse to survive with their own power. If they managed to return, they would be accepted as full-fledged members. If not, they would be excommunicated from the sect. There was no time limit for completion, but after a certain period, it was just assumed the person wouldn't come back.

The inscription ended as follows - ”Hardship is the mother of success. Return safely for a hero's welcome. To the winner, the potatoes.”

This last part, especially, gave her a very good impression. It seemed this sect put merit above everything else, having a doctrine of cold-hearted pragmatism.

Morgana could truly appreciate this.

...

So, how would she survive in this strange environment? No. She was a powerful wizard. She ought to do more than merely survive.

In her prime Morgana had the power of a queen, lording over an entire organization with many powerful underlings and precious resources at her disposal.

Now, although her position had been irreparably damaged, to the point where she wouldn't be able to enjoy these benefits for the next several decades, even if everything went well, at the very least, this woman still craved for more.

However, it was still too soon for establishing any concrete goal in mind, since she knew very little about this world. But still, just surviving was not enough.

Thinking about this, Morgana checked her mana reserves, the power contained in her very soul. And as she did so, her mood went gloom once more.

To her surprise, the energy had only recovered to the same level as It was before she tried to cast the firebolt spell.

No matter how much time passed she couldn't accumulate any more than this.

”Why is that?” She asked herself while munching down some more mushrooms