"So, removing the state of dying didn't just make it Immortal—it also made it Invulnerable. In the end, the only method I had left was a mental attack, and as a bonus, that let me take complete control over it." Magnus spoke with Eveline while seated in front of a small table, both of which she had summoned out of thin air onto the platform filled with puppets. Watching her, he couldn't help but wonder—was she actually creating these objects, like the chalkboard and whatever else, before summoning them? Or did she already have all of them prepared ahead of time, just waiting to bring them out?
He supposed he would never know, since Eveline would definitely tell him just for fun.
"Interesting! I've been so curious about the finer details of this source code theory of yours ever since you first explained it. I just never guessed we'd get confirmation on new aspects of it so soon." Eveline looked like she wanted to carve every word Magnus spoke into her memory. If he hadn't told her he planned on writing down the intricate details himself for safekeeping, she no doubt would have already done it.
Leaning forward onto the table, she muttered with a slight grin, "I can only imagine how many of these 'states' different forms of existence have. But... if it's truly infinite, then wouldn't everything share the same states? Whether it's a flame or a plank of wood, wouldn't both still have the state of bouncing for example? The nature of infinity means every possible state must exist—even the improbable."
"Well, technically, even if there are infinite states, that alone doesn't mean every state exists. Having infinite apples doesn't mean I also have infinite oranges." Magnus stated as he tapped his fingers on the table.
"From what I can tell, there's a lot of repetition in states—multiple ones that essentially mean or do the same thing."
Eveline paused, considering his words.
"Ah, I see. Yes, that makes sense. There could be a finite number of states—millions, billions, maybe even trillions. But if you include variations and repetitions of essentially the same states of being, that number could easily stretch to infinity. And if those variations have variations of their own... then it only becomes more certain. Oh, how fascinating..." Perhaps the best example of this was the Knockout Brick. Many things in this world didn't originally have a state of being knocked out. Meaning that even among infinite states, some were exclusive to certain existences. But the Knockout Brick changed that.
Its potential to break reality—trying to induce a knockout state in things that didn't naturally possess one—forced the universe to adapt. As a result, everything it could affect, even the inanimate, was suddenly granted a knockout state.
"In any case, you're telling me you've managed to tame and control this Nullfang—the creature capable of nullifying states from itself?" Eveline asked. But from her tone, it was clear this was more than just a question. She was already thinking about taking it apart, eager to see firsthand how its immortality and invulnerability functioned.
Magnus raised his hands slightly.
"Yes, but I can't show it to you. At least not anywhere near the academy. I'm keeping it outside of Arlcliff City to avoid detection."
Eveline's expression fell slightly as she nodded.
"Yes... I suppose that's the reasonable thing to do." It was even worse for her, given she wasn't allowed to leave Takerth Academy without a valid reason. That one rule alone meant she had no chance of observing the Nullfang anytime soon. She couldn't even use large-scale magic to view anything outside the academy unless it was to monitor a student through their Sigilbrand—or when her disciple, in this case, Magnus, was in potential danger and needed protection.
"How irritating..." She muttered under her breath, jaw tightening. A faintly uncomfortable aura radiated from her, enough for Magnus to pick up on it.
He quickly changed the subject.
"Anyway! Monlam's teacher invited me to their temple, so I figured I'd take an assignment that leads me over to the Sunridge Region. I'll probably bring Celia along, then visit this teacher. He seems to know a lot about glitches—hopefully, talking to him will give me some new insight." That seemed to snap Eveline out of her irritation. Her focus shifted entirely, her interest rekindled in an instant.
"Oh, yes, the Buddhist monk you mentioned. While I find the potentiality of states far more intriguing, this caught my interest as well." She leaned forward slightly.
"You said you were familiar with this religion, correct? Buddhism, you called it?"
Magnus nodded.
"That's right. It was pretty popular where I came from. And no, I'm not telling you where that is." His last words came out just as Eveline's eyes shimmered with curiosity. She had been about to ask, but the moment he cut her off, she shut her mouth with a small huff.
"Anyway, I'm not Buddhist, so I doubt I can take advantage of the fact that there's an entirely new power system in this world. But your mind is pretty flexible—maybe you could?" If he was being honest, it was hard to picture Eveline as a Buddhist. But then again, she had been willing to wipe her mind clean of preconceived notions the moment he introduced the concept of source code to her.
With a mindset like that, a thirst for knowledge that trumped everything else, maybe even adopting a religion wouldn't be too far-fetched.
"Yes, I considered that myself. The allure of navigating an entirely new path to power is not lost on me. Believe me, it is not..." There was a subtle fervor in her voice that made Magnus shift slightly in his chair.
"But once again, my inability to leave Takerth Academy ruins me. If I'm to learn, I must learn from the source. I wouldn't want to risk contaminating the process with misinformation. So, for now, I have no choice but to wait for an opportunity." She exhaled sharply, her fingers tapping against the table.
"Ideally, if you could convince this teacher to come to Arlcliff City—or even one of his students—I could make do. And if that doesn't work…" She leaned back, her voice dropping slightly.
"Well, even being punished for violating my contract and damaging my soul might be worth such a tantalizing opportunity."
"Um, please don't do that?" Magnus said, his words hovering between a request and a question.
He still remembered how severely Eveline had described soul damage—and how important the soul was. It was the one link between a person's body in the Physical Reality and their mind in the Mental Reality. Damaging it was already bad, but if it were destroyed? That was worse than death. No amount of healing or regeneration could bring someone back, even if their body and mind were perfectly intact.
"Anyway, that's pretty much everything that happened while I was away. It'll take me some time to write everything down in detail, but I should be able to finish within a week or so. I just need to make sure I have someplace safe to store it." That was the one advantage of having information about source code, the Command Console, and glitches existing solely in his memory—it was safe there.
His mind was practically immune to interference, making it a vault for secrets. But if anyone ever got their hands on his notebook, everything could be exposed.
"Hmm? Oh, no need to worry about that." Eveline waved a hand dismissively.
"Ever since our wonderful little Celia showed me her notebook—which, I must admit, contained some rather interesting details about your abilities—I put a spell on it to block any outsiders from viewing it. It's an extremely passive spell, so it works against almost any form of observation regardless of level. And if anyone tries to break it, a simple countermeasure destroys the notebook instantly. I could do the same for yours."
"Huh. Well, that's... convenient," Magnus muttered, staring at her with mild disbelief.
"You know a lot of extremely useful spells."
"Of course I do." Eveline tilted her head slightly, as if the statement was obvious.
"From the Apprentice level up to the Master level, mages usually specialize in specific types of magic. But in the end, that's so inefficient. Why hone only a few categories of magic to the limits of mastery when you could just learn all of them?" Magnus blinked.
His expression froze for a moment before turning into one of pure shock.
"Wait, wait, wait! Don't just brush past that. What do you mean, all of them?" Eveline looked at him, confused by the question—until realization flickered across her face.
"Ah, right. I get so engrossed in our talks that I forget how uneducated you are when it comes to magic." Leaning forward onto the table, she rested her chin in her hands, a smirk playing at her lips.
"Magnus, do you know the requirements to become an Archmage?"
That question stumped him instantly.
He knew about the different mage and knight stages—Unranked, Apprentice, Adept, Master, and, for most, the pinnacle: Archmage or Champion. Beyond that, he was aware of Grand Arcanists, and that the Headmistress of Takerth Academy was one. But he had no idea what the knight equivalent was—didn't even know its name. And if he was being honest, he didn't really understand the deeper differences between mage stages beyond their increased magical knowledge, mana control, and mana reserves.
Knights, on the other hand, he at least had a grasp on—thanks to how much time he'd spent observing and fighting alongside people like Seraline, Mia, Gerald, and Marcos.
"Hmm, it seems you don't," Eveline noted, watching the look of deep concentration on Magnus's face.
"In that case, think of this as a little bit of advanced knowledge—something you can use to make yourself seem smarter than your fellow classmates," she teased lightly before continuing.
"For mages, while Unranked, the most important thing is gathering magical knowledge. Mana formations are first constructed within a mage's mind, used to guide mana in precise ways to create what we know as magic. But to use and visualize something, you must understand it first. That's why studying and gathering knowledge comes before anything else. Trying to control mana without properly understanding what it is or the rules it follows is like using fire in an area without fireproofing—it's only a matter of time before a spark sets everything ablaze." That much, Magnus understood perfectly.
It was the reason he had built the Magic Simulation Space in his mind, ensuring it operated as a space where any mana simulated there follows all magical laws up to the Apprentice level. It was also why [Arcane Matrix] never failed when editing, copying, or recreating mana formations and certain forms of magic.
"At the Apprentice level, there's a shift in focus. A mage's mana reserves naturally increase over time, so control becomes the priority. It's no longer just about knowing how to cast spells but about reinforcing them, extending their duration, and resisting the suppression effect of spirits. For example, there's only one way to cast a basic mana barrier spell. Every defensive spell that turns mana into something tangible—whether cast by an Apprentice or an Archmage—originates as a modification of that single spell." Magnus gave a subtle nod, following along. This was also something he had already realized while developing the Magic Simulation Space. Many spells weren't unique creations but merely modifications of existing ones.
It was why, despite never studying most forms of uncategorized or elementrix magic, Magnus had access to tens of thousands of spells, thanks to [Library of Babel] constantly generating and discovering new ones within the Magic Simulation Space. At this point, he had over five hundred ways to cast a fireball spell—and a hundred variations for each of them if he wanted. Yet, at their core, they all stemmed from a single, original fireball spell.
"It's this understanding," Eveline continued, "that to learn one elementrix spell is to learn the foundation of all of them. Through magical knowledge, one can multiply into ten, ten into hundreds, and hundreds into thousands. That, Magnus, is what separates a mediocre mage from a great one. It's also why mastering the fundamentals—spells as basic as mana sphere or mana barrier—is crucial, even when you're capable of more. Once a mage reaches the Apprentice level, they can modify even the simplest spells. And through those modifications, they can begin to learn more advanced ones. That's the first step toward true magic."
As Eveline spoke, Magnus could hear it in her voice—her absolute adoration for magic. It wasn't just knowledge to her. It was something more. Maybe the word he was looking for was love. Yes, the purest, most overwhelming form of love.
At least for her.
"In any case, the Adept level has far less to do with magical knowledge or the complexity gained from mana control and far more to do with scale. That's why so many students, despite their overwhelming talent, remain stuck as Pseudo-Adepts for quite some time. It all comes down to the natural growth speed of one's mana core and reserves—something that can't be rushed. Actually…" Eveline tilted her head slightly.
"If I remember correctly, your curriculum should be covering this right now—the concept of mana scaling. So I won't spoil you with the details. You'll learn about it in class tomorrow." She then moved on.
"Which finally brings us to the Master level—the transitional stage of pure magical optimization." Magnus tilted his head.
"Magical optimization?" He wasn't exactly sure what she meant by that, though she explained a moment later.
"By the time a mage reaches the Master level, the passive mana they absorb from their surroundings surpasses the amount needed to sustain most spells at Master Class and below. This is where the gap between maintaining a spell for an extended period and keeping a spell active indefinitely is finally crossed. At this point, certain spells can be sustained permanently—day and night."
Magnus frowned slightly.
"That's it? Isn't that just a matter of having enough mana to constantly repair spells as they get eroded by the spirit suppression effect?" That made it sound like the Master level was just about having larger mana reserves than Adept-levels. But Eveline simply chuckled, shaking her head as if he'd said something amusing.
Lifting her chin from her hands, she snapped her fingers. A small flame appeared at the tip of her pointer finger, burning at a slow, steady pace.
"If you're saying that, it means you don't fully understand how the spirit suppression effect works," she said, watching the flickering fire.
"It's common knowledge that the larger and more obvious the magical phenomenon, the stronger the suppression effect. That's why mages create compact, intricate spells—to slow, confuse, and weaken the spirits' interference. But here's something most don't realize: while the initial effort spirits put into suppression appears linear, over time, it becomes exponential."
"Exponential?" Magnus echoed, watching as Eveline gestured toward the small flame still burning on her fingertip.
"This tiny flame requires almost no mana to sustain right now. I could keep it burning for hours without issue. But I can promise you, by tomorrow morning, if I left it untouched, sustaining it for a single second would cost more mana than creating a hundred mana spheres." Magnus's eyes narrowed slightly as he processed that.
"That's how spirit suppression works," Eveline continued.
"The longer an abnormality resists their attempts at normalization, the more intense their suppression efforts become—until one side breaks." With that, the flame at her fingertip suddenly dispersed, bursting into glowing embers before vanishing completely.
"Of course, those below the Master-level—unless specifically taught—would never learn about this. Depending on the size and power of the spell, it can take hours or even a full day before the suppression effect reaches an exponential threshold. That's why Adept-level mages and below rarely experience it firsthand."
Magnus crossed his arms, thinking as he spoke.
"If that's the case, then how do Master-level mages actually sustain spells indefinitely?"
His questioning caused Eveline to smirk.
"It's simple. They constantly switch variations." That answer made Magnus's eyes widen as realization clicked into place.
Every spell had a basic mana formation from which it originated. When modified enough, that basic foundation essentially became a new spell. Lesser modifications, on the other hand—those that kept the core structure intact while improving speed or penetrative power—were just variations of the same spell.
So, how does one avoid the ever-mounting spirit suppression effect from snuffing out the spell they're trying to maintain?
The answer was as simple as using a disguise to evade law enforcement. Modify the active spell to such a degree that it appears as an entirely different anomaly from the one the spirits had been eroding.
But... the real challenge was modifying a spell that much while ensuring its functionality remained unchanged. Since I use the Command Console to cast spells, as long as I stay connected to one, I can sustain it indefinitely. With the ability to create mana from nothing, the spirit suppression effect would never reach a level I couldn't handle, no matter how exponential it became. But for Master-level mages, sustaining passive spells meant constantly altering their mana formations—changing the spell's structure while ensuring it still generated the same phenomenon.
But how difficult was that? Sure, many spells had already been cataloged in this world. Once a mage reached the Apprentice-level, making minor variations was simple. But even Adept-level mages couldn't completely rewrite a spell to make it seem different while keeping its function intact. It was like constantly coming up with new mathematical expressions that all equaled one—every single day, maybe even every few hours, depending on the spell.
Simply shifting from 3-2 to 5-4 wasn't enough. Instead, one had to transition from 2÷2 to (i^4) and then to e^(0).
"Is that... even humanly possible?" Magnus murmured, struggling to wrap his head around it.
"For weeks? Months? Years? Constantly reshaping the same spell into different forms, never repeating a single one while? That's just-" He stopped, stumbling over his own thoughts. And that wasn't even considering the fact that Master-level mages had to maintain multiple passive spells at once.
He sat there, stunned, his mind racing, before finally looking up at Eveline. She was staring at him, a satisfied expression on her face.
"Every single professor here at the academy... how do they-"
"That," Eveline interjected, "is what it means to be a Master, Magnus. To achieve mastery over magic itself. Mastery of magical knowledge—enough to understand the workings of any spell, even one they've never seen before, at just a glance. Mastery over mana control—enough to cycle through countless variations of a spell to the point the original is indistinguishable yet never altering its function, even in the slightest. And immense mana reserves—the proof of a mage who has survived long enough to achieve mastery in those other two aspects, allowing them to sustain practically any spell without ever exhausting themselves."
For so long, Magnus had believed knights had the edge over mages. From unranked to Apprentice-level, knights dominated. Only at the Adept-level did the scales begin to balance out. But now, he understood. Unlike knights, whose stages brought sharp, immediate increases in strength and capability, a mage's progression was about laying the foundation for the Master-level.
It was the hallmark.
The truest representation of what it meant to be a mage.
No wonder mages at the Master-level were considered stronger than Master-level knights. The difference is just that staggering—they weren't even comparable to Adept-level mages...
Magnus sat in silence for nearly a minute before finally speaking again, meeting Eveline's gaze.
"Wait… so when you said 'learn all of them,' you meant-" Eveline nodded, interrupting his unfinished question.
"That's right. One of the requirements for becoming an Archmage can be fulfilled in one of two ways. Either by learning and mastering every category of magic—Master Class and below—or by being able to replicate any category of magic up to the Master Class through observation alone, without any prior practice." She gave him a knowing look before continuing.
"Master-level mages can do that to an extent, but only in categories they're familiar with. It's in no way universal. Oh, and as you might've guessed, I chose the first path." A clear sense of pride shone through in her voice—not arrogance, but confidence earned through achievement. And in this case, it was certainly warranted.
Still, something about that requirement didn't sit right with Magnus.
"Isn't that first requirement impossible, though?" He asked, frowning.
"The Mage's Apprentice Compendium alone contains hundreds, if not thousands, of spells in all those scrolls and books. And that's just at the Apprentice level. The Adept and Master-level compendiums must be just as vast, if not more. It doesn't matter how talented or fast you are at reading—even with magic, mastering that many spells in a lifetime would be impossible." Technically, Magnus could fulfill both requirements using the Command Console, but that was because it operated on source code—something far beyond magic. For a human to do the same, even a Master-level mage, it felt inconceivable.
Eveline didn't hesitate. She slammed her hand onto the table—not hard, but enough to make Magnus jump. Then, she leaned in, her towering figure bringing them practically face-to-face.
"Magnus, how old do you think I am?" She asked, her eyes locked onto his.
Magnus blinked, suddenly hyper-aware of just how close she was.
"Uh… I don't know, forties? Fifties?" The moment the words left his mouth, he realized the contradiction. By all logic, someone couldn't possibly learn every spell in Takerth Academy within a single lifetime. And yet, Eveline had done it.
And she wasn't even elderly—middle-aged at most.
Eveline smirked at his answer as she said, "Aw, such a charmer. You sure know just what to say to an old woman."
She leaned back in her chair, putting some distance between them again.
"But you're right—it would take more than a lifetime. In fact, reaching an Archmage level in mana control is probably the easiest part of the process. But the magical knowledge and mana reserves required? Those can't be obtained through talent or natural gifts alone. No one, no matter how skilled, could achieve that in a single lifespan." She let that hang in the air for a moment before delivering the real answer.
"Which is why the second requirement to becoming an Archmage... is obtaining longevity." Magnus stiffened.
"In other words," Eveline continued, "the biggest obstacle separating an Archmage from a Master isn't just time—it's the ability to experience that time. To become an Archmage, you must first develop a way to prolong your life."
Magnus blinked, his mind struggling to process what he'd just heard.
"Wait... you're saying you—you stopped aging? But... doesn't that mean you're immortal? That all Archmages are immortal?"
"No, we can still die," Eveline said with a shake of her head, her tone casual despite the weight of the statement.
"As rare and difficult as it is—with all the measures we take to protect ourselves—we're still capable of perishing. And that alone defies the meaning of living eternally. But yes, any Archmage you've met, or will meet, is far older than you are." Hearing that, Magnus was almost tempted to ask how old she really was, but something told him she wouldn't give him a straight answer. She had a way of being vague and playful when it came to details about herself.
"Wow..." He leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as he absorbed everything he had just learned.
"Well, I mean… I guess that explains why you and the Headmistress are so cr— I mean… eccentric." He quickly corrected himself, but Eveline's eyes narrowed, her smirk sharpening.
"You mean less human?"
Magnus hesitated. That was what he meant, but he had tried to avoid saying it outright. The uncanny feeling he got from Eveline—it came from how inhuman she seemed, whether in the way she acted or simply the way she felt to be around.
"There's no need to tiptoe around it," she said. "It's the truth. The things we've done to ourselves to obtain the knowledge and power we wield as Archmages… they killed off our 'humanity,' at least as people would define it." She leaned back, glancing at the white void around them before letting out a small laugh. "And yet, it's still something every mage craves. Funny, isn't it? How willingly people throw it away? That's what makes magic so fascinating—it's a path of knowledge and discovery that's so addicting, it destroys who you once were."
She spoke with a light, almost chipper tone, completely devoid of regret. Then, she turned to him.
"Of course, I'm sure you know what I'm referring to. After all, you're not very human yourself—once you look past the surface, that is."
Magnus froze for a moment.
Of course, Eveline had noticed. She hadn't even commented on the change in his appearance or found it odd when he mentioned how he had modified his own body. At first, he had assumed it was just because she was… well, Eveline. Already half-mad, and not much could surprise her.
But now, he understood the real reason why.
She had long since gone down the same path.
A quiet moment passed between them before Magnus suddenly chuckled, shaking his head.
"Yeah… I guess you're right about that." He smirked. "Though I'm definitely the saner one between us."
Eveline raised an eyebrow, tilting her head. "Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that. But I suppose… we'll just have to wait and see."