> Divulge The Magic Vulnerability Volume 1 Chapter 1">Volume 1 Chapter 1 (1/2)

Pop!!

A girl with long wavy blonde hair looked down at the dull sound she heard in a dimly-lit room. It had broken. What had? The chest of her blue blazer. The ample chest below was supposed to be perfectly protected by the blouse's b.u.t.toned-up collar, but one of the b.u.t.tons had popped off and vanished into the ether. That meant she seemed to be intentionally showing off her cleavage even though she very much did not want to.

”Oh, no. Oh, no, Oh, no. Oh, no.”

Her name was Teleria Nereid Aquamarine.

She waved her hands around in a childish way that clashed with her appearance, but she could not rewind time back to before the b.u.t.ton had vanished. Besides, she had too much to do already!!

A sorcery device resembling a mynah with a bell around its neck stood in the birdcage hanging next to the window covered by blinds to block out the sunlight. That device tilted its head while a soft bell rang from its throat.

Then the lifeless speech organs spoke.

”Thank you for putting up with the long journey. We will arrive in Celedileka in 10 multi-times[1] Please prepare for departure.”

(Where's my entrance pa.s.s? Oh, no. Where's my entrance pa.s.s!? It isn't over there and it isn't over here, so does that mean he has it!?)

This was only a small rectangular s.p.a.ce. She quickly cut across the bedroom and slammed on the brakes when she saw something out of the corner of her eye. She took a few steps back to adjust her position and checked her own reflection in the large mirror there.

She was so short that a middle-aged man she had never before met had once told her she would probably age into being the quintessential little old lady basking in the sun.

Nevertheless, one part of her body - (Okay, fine. My chest.) - had grown more than necessary, which made it extremely difficult to find clothes that fit.

However, the blonde girl in a blue blazer was focused on something other than her large chest. She was much more interested in her slender legs.

(This is my first time setting foot in this city and first impressions are important. …Yes, they look fine. I don't see anything wrong with my legs.)

The legs extending from her shortish skirt were contained in black tights and, in addition to her standard skirt, she also had some Expansion Armor floating around her. That was open in the front, so it was something like a C-shaped umbrella.

However.

She had excitedly worked up the courage to buy that because it looked like a princess dress, but thanks to that ”Pop!” from her chest, it made her look more like the star of an evening party showing off her cleavage and legs.

”Ugh…”

She groaned when she focused on her entire body instead of just her legs.

It really bothered her how she looked more indecent than mature dressed like this.

(anyway, I have to find my entrance pa.s.s. I can gather my luggage and use what time I have left to reattach the b.u.t.ton! Surely there will be time for that!!)

When you were panicking was the time for positive thinking.

She once more cut across the long and narrow s.p.a.ce to reach a corner with a simple table and sofa.

A blanket was draped across the small sofa, but it clearly had something below it. That would be her traveling partner. Why was he sleeping there? Because he had let the girl take the bed of course. She was extremely grateful for that standard decency from him, but the blonde and curvy girl was approaching him as hesitantly as she might some unexploded ordnance.

Her experience told her this was very much necessary.

”Ayato? Ayato Criminaltrophy???”

She tried calling softly to him from a distance at first, but the blanket did not so much as stir.

This was the usual state of affairs and she was not foolish enough to make a careless approach. She brought a resigned hand to her forehead, breathed a deep sigh, and prepared herself for what was to come. She placed her hands around her mouth like a megaphone and shouted at the top of her lungs.

”Aaayaaatooo!! Do you know where our entrance pa.s.ses are? I know they have to be somewhere in this bungalow!!”

Mt. Blanket finally moved. A slender hand stuck out from a crack in the wrinkled blanket, a fingertip waved, and then it pointed in a certain direction.

Teleria looked over at the table in confusion, but the only things there were a mug, a sheathed short sword with a trigger at its base, and a square block of metal that would likely require both hands to carry. Something popped up with a ding like some freshly-cooked toast, but it was instead the day's remotely-printed newspaper.

His Fate Decided: The fiendish criminal named Thomas Robergin has been sentenced to a public execution. She glanced across the frontpage headlines. After that top story, all political and financial stories were entirely ignored to give more page s.p.a.ce for an article about a local festival plus an ad for the Forturiana Church telling people to ”fill the world with the light of magic”. She could really tell they were far from home, but she also had to tilt her head because she was not quite sure what it all meant. But then a chill ran down her spine.

(Ah…)

She had been so cautious before, but it had slipped her mind thanks to the newspaper. Warning sirens belatedly blared in her mind. It could be hard to tell since he was lying down and his eyes were closed, but that lump in the blanket was not necessarily asleep. She should have been more focused on the rhythm of his breathing.

And whatever kind of work it was, carelessly approaching him during his sorcery work was a risky decision.

(Wait, don't tell me he's doing his mental Self-Maintenance work!)

He could look like he was awake while not actually reacting and responding to her questions. Like with the placebo effect or seemingly superhuman feats of strength during emergencies, people did not always realize what their body was truly capable of. In order to move his body at maximum efficiency, he apparently had to lower the level of his own consciousness and regularly determine the ”baseline values” of his body…but she did not care about any of that. As far as she was concerned, it just meant he was not listening.

In other words, he had not actually been pointing at anything just now.

Taking her eyes off of him then had been a mistake. The distance between them did not matter. Yes, he would always come to her and scoop her up from below.

Just as she heard the giant blanket lump fall from the sofa, roll along the floor, and b.u.mp into her leg, she was dragged down and taken away.

”Ah, ahh, wait, Ayato, ahhhhhhhhhh!!!???”

The blonde girl screamed as the blanket devoured her, but unfortunately, the two of them were the only people in that rectangular s.p.a.ce. The announcer mynah was not designed to put a stop to immoral activities.

The giant blanket wriggled around like it was chewing on some gum and then a deep groan seemed to rumble up from the depths.

”Starting from the right thumb: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5…wait, this isn't my sword?”

”How could you possibly mistake this soft body for a hard and cold ma.s.s of crystal and manconducting silver!!!???”

So most of the time, his wakeup call came in this form.

Once again, a solid slap rang through the morning air.

Ayato Criminaltrophy, the boy wearing the same sort of blue blazer as Teleria, would normally have had handsome features, but he claimed his masculinity was devoured when he made a contract with a devil. Simply put, his face could easily be described as androgynously attractive.

However…

”Miss Teleria. Miss Teleria Nereid Aquamarine.”

”…Yes?”

”I do appreciate the refres.h.i.+ng feeling of having my mental sorcery experiment forcibly interrupted, but we are about to set foot in that city for the very first time. This is an important event, so why are you making my face so unparallel? Do you have something against me?”

”You are not the only one who took damage here! I was, um, well, I took damage to my maiden heart!!”

”You need to be more specific. What are you trying to say I did to you? I lower my level of consciousness during my Self-Maintenance, so it isn't easy to remember what happens in that time.”

”I am not saying a word. Don't think I am going to do further embarra.s.sment damage to myself for no reason. Now let me see your face!”

Teleria pulled a black and s.h.i.+ning handgun from the leather holster she wore at her hip. It was hidden between her blazer's tighter-fitting miniskirt and the princess skirt that floated around her. The unnecessarily long magazine was more than three times the length of the grip and the suppressor was built into the gun itself. It was even equipped with a dot sight on top and a laser guide below the barrel. She had a tendency to attach every accessory she came across, making her what was known as a ”snowman gunner”.

She was blus.h.i.+ng, but she had not grabbed the gun in a fit of emotion.

”Swelling and bruising of the cheek. No effect to the cheekbone or eardrum. Looks like I only need to order the manaflow in your body and accelerate your metabolism.”

”Hold on. Do that and my face will be covered in dead skin and filth!”

”Really? You want me to do cellular replacement regeneration too!? That's expensive!!”

”I'm the victim and you're the attacker.”

”I'm the victim and you're the attacker!!”

The blonde girl raised the handgun, pressed the slide against her forehead, and muttered something under her breath.

”(Secondary Ex Aid.)”

With a m.u.f.fled sound resembling full-auto gunfire, a pale, firefly-like light was released into that s.p.a.ce. A bright blue muzzle flash blossomed, the manaflow that shot through the center contained a signal similar to an electric pulse, and it pierced Ayato's face before her eyes. A smooth empty bullet cartridge was spat from the ejection port. It appeared to be faintly glowing from the firing, but it was the opposite. The cartridge had been glowing to begin with and firing it caused it to rapidly lose its light and fade like a brightly colored flower withering up.

Bullets like that were manufactured by rubbing impurities on the inside of a steel cylinder, applying intense heat, injecting mist mana, and adding a thin film to the outer surface.

But as the cartridge lost its light, it had the same fleeting beauty as dying embers or sea sparkle. The color changed depending on the type of impurities used and that allowed the manufacturer to give it their personal touch, but Teleria's was a pale blue. It could be fun to give it a color to match the element used: red for fire, blue for water, yellow for wind, and green for earth.

Magic could be cast with the pull of a trigger.

Sorcery referred to using manconducting materials to cast magic. In the past, supernatural phenomena had been achieved by raising a sorcery sword or an old-fas.h.i.+oned staff to draw complex patterns in the air that would order the manaflow and reciting long incantations in ancient languages to create a resonance between the world and one's body. However, those days were over. Just as a lengthy sentence could be abbreviated to a single line, modern magic was not a privilege restricted to a chosen few. It was now a technology of the ma.s.ses thanks to the cartridges injected with pressurized fog mana that was extracted from the air. Just load one of those in a gun and pull the trigger and you were done.

The people only had to cause a change smaller even than the powder contained in a bullet.

Those smooth cartridges coated with a solid film of mana were mostly filled with the form of mana known as Intangible Mist. The bullet itself was made from soft disintegrating lead, but that was because it did not need any destructive power itself. The bullet was meant to be erased along with the activation of the magic, so it was controlled by the power of the user's will and engraved with the letters and numbers matching the desired type of magic. That changed the type of muzzle flash. When the mist mana was released from its pressurized state, it would burst through the center of that colorful light which resembled fireworks and that created the desired magic.

The distance the sound of the gunshot traveled was directly linked to the effective range, so the purpose of the suppressor built into her gun was likely to increase the accuracy at the cost of range. Especially when she was messing with the human body using recovery magic rather than simply fighting someone.

In this age, young wives would use magic to light the stove in the safety of their own home, but no one bothered to actually understand what the letters and numbers meant or how precarious a balancing act it was to use numbers to take the place of the missing letters. For lighting the stove, they used this. For locking a door, they used that. They could not do all the calculations in their head, but they only had to memorize what was necessary for an ordinary life. And if they could not memorize it, they could hesitantly follow along using the notes they had taken. …Some might call that progress and some might call it degradation.

And…

”You suck at that. You waste a ton of ammo by doing pain relief and fever reduction in parallel. Do it like this.”

”Ah!?”

The blonde girl with the gun raised her voice in a panic.

Ayato had drawn the sword sitting on the table and lightly stabbed the tip of the blade into the sorcery gun she held. He also pulled some ultrthin crystal cards from his blue blazer's breast pocket and scattered them out in the air. The set of 78 palm-sized cards drew up various arcana images all on their own and changed their arrangement as if controlled by a magnet.

Immediately, the magic supposedly under Teleria's control changed its structure.

No, the manaflow had been hijacked and restructured into a different kind of magic altogether.