Became the Unjust Contract Slave of the Archamage's Book

Chapter 4

Became the Unjust Contract Slave of the Archamage's Book - Chapter 4

“So, what exactly are you?” Binaeril asked the old, talkative book perched on the nightstand beside his bed.

In the place of the excitement and exhilaration that had passed, a large volume of curiosity settled in.

-Me? I am Veritas, also known as the Book of Truth.

“No, no. I’ve heard that a million times. What exactly are you?”

-I told you, I’m a book.

“You’re not just any ordinary book!”

Upon leaving the hall of the grand library, Veritas had transformed back into his book form. Was the boy he saw that day just an illusion? After spending a few days together, Binaeril had somewhat gotten used to conversing with a talking, flying book.

-Not an ordinary book? That’s correct. I am the chronicle of all histories, the encyclopedia of all existing magic, the diary of every researcher who has ever left records, the very embodiment of accumulated knowledge. I am the Book of Trut—

“Cut it out. If you strip away all the useless flourishes, you’re just a book with a single page.”

-The remaining parts were lost.

Binaeril had learned a few things after spending a few days with Veritas. Firstly, this book was incredibly brazen, filled with an immense amount of self-love. Secondly, it was extremely talkative, constantly chattering in his mind, which was quite tiresome.

-As I’ve said before, I’ve fulfilled my part of the contract. Now it’s your turn.

The Book of Truth had asked Binaeril to find its missing pages. The problem was that even Veritas didn’t know their exact locations.

-I lost the page that had the locations noted.

“So how am I supposed to find them?”

-You’ll know when you’re close.

What a completely unhelpful book.

“Ah, so you’re saying I have to find all these pages without knowing where they are or how many there are?”

-I wouldn’t be so unreasonable.

“Then?”

-There are fewer than ten missing pages. The rest of what you said is mostly accurate.

In the end, Binaeril couldn’t know the exact whereabouts of the missing pages.

‘Should I just throw it away?’

-Oh dear, how disrespectful.

Perhaps due to the synchronization effect, Veritas could read Binaeril’s thoughts at will, including his senses and emotions. It seemed that by picking up this peculiar book, Binaeril had lost a part of his privacy.

-Not that it’s a replacement, but there’s a reward.

“??”

-I am a living embodiment of magical power. Do you really think you shattered that cube with your own strength?

“Then?”

-I lent you my power.@@@@

“You provided the magical energy?”

-Exactly.

Magical energy, or mana, is the mental strength depleted through casting spells. It’s similar to physical stamina; high-tier spells require strong mana. Despite casting a powerful destructive spell, Binaeril hadn’t felt particularly fatigued, which aligned with Veritas’s claim.

“If that’s true, how much mana do you possess?”

-Not much at the moment. I’ve lost most of it. Right now, I have about as much as a 3rd-tier magician.

***

“In actual combat, the key is not how precisely you can visualize your magic. Discard all fancy and complicated concepts! Simple and fast spells are the most effective,” Professor Blanchot declared passionately, and the students couldn’t help but nod in agreement.

Pierre Blanchot was known as a practical, battle-experienced professor at Elfenbine. His teaching method was quite passionate and combative compared to the refined and serene classes of Avia Flynn.

“Speedy casting and powerful force require, above all, a magician’s steely will!” His classes were conducted with a fervor, using training dummies lined up for demonstration.

“Achieve the maximum effect with minimal cost. This is the golden rule you must cherish on the battlefield where your life is at stake.”

Pierre aimed his finger at the heads of the dummies.

“Piercing arrow of magical power!”

A beam of light shot out, shattering the heads of the solid dummies and continuing until it struck the training hall wall with a loud bang. The dummies’ heads were obliterated as if hit by a cannonball. It was a 1st-tier piercing spell that fired a concentrated energy arrow, though with far more power than any student could manage.

“Wow...!” The boys’ eyes sparkled with admiration and respect for Pierre.

“Now, you try it. You can use the same spell or apply it in a different way. Who wants to go first?”

An eager male student raised his hand and stepped forward. Pierre arranged the dummies in a line for him.

“Show us how quickly and effectively you can subdue your enemies.”

The student clasped his hands together and chanted the incantation.

“Piercing arrow of thunder!”

It was an applied version of the piercing spell. The student had some skill.

“Hoo,” Pierre’s eyes glinted with interest.

The lightning beam destroyed two dummies and was stopped by the third.

“Hmm. Well done,” Pierre said, despite usually being stingy with praise. The student smiled in relief.

“Who’s next? You there! Come forward.” Pierre called out Binaeril, wanting to test the new transfer student’s abilities.

“Give it a try.”

Pierre set up the dummies as he had done before, then stepped back with his arms crossed.

“Quickly and effectively, right?” Binaeril asked.

“Yes.”

Binaeril’s eyes widened in thought. Pierre Blanchot, a veteran who had spent a long time on battlefields, wouldn’t be impressed by mere brute force. Binaeril decided on his approach, spreading his palm slightly and extending it above his head.

The heart triggers the miracle, imagination brings it to life, and the incantation completes the magic. Binaeril found the quickest and most effective solution. He mumbled a low incantation that the other students couldn’t understand.

Pop!

“Ahh!”

A scream erupted from the observing students. Pierre frowned slightly. Binaeril had suddenly released a burst of light without warning, and the dummies remained unscathed.

“What are you doing?”

“I did as you asked.”

“The quickest and most effective subjugation, right?”

Binaeril’s solution was to rob the enemies of their sight. Pierre was momentarily speechless, caught off guard by his unexpected answer. Struggling to find fault, Pierre grudgingly acknowledged his answer.

“...Good method. Take your seat.”

The instructors reluctantly marked the highest scores in the late transfer student’s record. The name Binaeril Dalheim, once only known among juniors, began to spread among others.

However, light always casts shadows.

“Why is the transfer student showing off so much?”

Despite the faculty’s positive evaluations, there were certainly envious and resentful glances directed at Binaeril. Yet, Binaeril Dalheim, oblivious to the undercurrents, focused solely on his growth.