Chapter 239 – Serr the Mage

“Miracle.”

Her hand, no longer trembling, touched the scales.

At that moment, 

Clang! 

The scales, which had reached perfect balance, shattered.

Fragments, large and small, of the broken scales reflected the Mirror of All Creation. They glimmered softly, illuminating the path I had to walk.

Within that light, crafted from the fragments of the scales, I walked. My weary steps felt light. My eyes, now blind to magic, were clear. My mind, which had performed a great magic impossible for any human, was unclouded. Even though I still had important things left undone, my heart felt free.

It wasn’t irresponsible.

Because if it was Noah, if it was Rubia, if it was the friends I cherished, the ones who accepted someone like me without asking for anything in return, they would never fail.

Because I believed that they would create a perfect world, a result I could never have anticipated.

So I walked on.

To leave a gift for those who believed in me.

To turn the end of a story that was only filled with misfortune into something beautiful.

And to lay the cornerstone for a new story to begin.

I passed through countless pasts.

I crossed beyond a present that could no longer exist.

I ignored the unpleasant, dark future.

Through causality that a mere human, one who could never become a god, should never be able to traverse, I kept walking.

My body had long since collapsed.

Even my soul, layered with countless spells, began to crumble, but I did not stop.

There was still so much left to do.

Besides, if my soul were to collapse now, the magic that turned darkness into light, the magic that let Noah see, the magic that restored Rubia, everything would end.

That can’t happen.

If it becomes dark, they won’t be able to see me.

If Noah’s sight is taken away, she won’t be able to see me.

If Rubia’s soul sinks again, she won’t be able to see me.

They have a duty to witness my appearance. Even if it’s only my soul, they have to see. They can. If it’s them.

And besides, where else could anyone witness a magic of this level, the very end of all magic that all mages pursue? Only I could show them this.

Only I could do it.

So they must not miss seeing me. They must hold the image in their hearts, etch it into their memories, and pass it on to others, to mages, to those who come after.

That their friend, Serr, was the first and last to reach the end of magic.

I wonder if they’re watching.

If they are, what kind of faces are they making?

Hmm. If it’s Rubia, she’s probably scrunching up her face and sobbing her eyes out. Would it only be tears? Her nose and mouth must be running too.

She always acts mature and strong, but deep down, Rubia is actually more fragile than Noah. So she must be crying her heart out.

Even if she’s not crying as I expect, I hope she cries later. That way, I’ll know I was someone precious to her.

And as for Noah, 

She’s probably watching me with a blank face.

Noah, if anything, wouldn’t cry.

She always looks foolish, her body looks weak, and she seems soft inside, but she’s wiser, stronger, and more resolute than anyone I know.

…No, I take back the “wise” part.

Noah is a fool. She really is. I wonder how she’s even an adult with that level of intelligence.

Hmm, maybe she hit her head hard as a child?

Anyway.

If it’s Noah. Even if she isn’t crying on the outside, she’ll be crying inside. She’ll be stuck in endless regret.

Endless, unending regret, one after another.

The heaviest of those regrets will be not having sacrificed herself just a little sooner.

But there’s nothing that can be done about that.

It was I who let her see, who drew Rubia’s soul to the surface to keep Noah’s feet bound in place.

If she resents it, she should have been smarter and more thorough than I was.

I’ve been preparing this plan ever since Noah entered the trial. If my carefully laid plan falls apart now, that would just be awful.

So, even if it’s unfair, it can’t be helped.

Still, wasn’t she happy to meet Rubia again?

That’s right. Equivalent exchange.

If you gain something, you have to lose something in return.

Now that she’s gotten to meet Rubia again, she has to pay the price for it.

“Ahaha…”

The price for not being able to sacrifice yourself.

I couldn’t help but laugh at such a ridiculous price.

While I laughed, I felt the place where my steps should stop drawing near.

As I tried to take my final steps toward it, 

My body, my legs, my steps, came to a halt.

Should I look back?

I want to look back.

I want to turn and see their faces.

I want to see if they look the way I imagined. Finding the answer to a question is a basic virtue for a mage.

Just this much, should be fine.

No, I mustn’t.

It’s not fine.

Finding an answer, forget that.

I just want to see their faces.

I want to hold their hands, hear their voices, laugh together, and remain in this world. That’s what I want.

So I mustn’t.

I must not cling to regrets. I must not leave any lingering attachment behind.

If I do, my heart will grow heavy. My steps will become weighed down. My mind will become complicated.

It would make things harder for those left behind.

And, 

Wouldn’t it be the coolest thing to leave without looking back? I even declared with my own mouth that I was the first and the last.

Out of all mages who existed in the past, who exist now, or who will exist in the future, I declared I was the strongest.

Would it be right for me to show such an unsightly side of myself?

On the off chance. On the million-to-one chance. No, 

If a miracle that could never possibly happen were to occur,

If, in some far-off future, we met again, 

I’d definitely regret how pathetic I am right now.

I’d die from embarrassment, my heart bursting from shame.

So, I can’t leave behind any regrets.

Never.

I unclenched my tightly held hand.

I raised my bowed head.

I stepped forward with light steps, steps that had to remain light.

Rustle. 

At that moment, the last thing left.

A single lingering regret, already too late, finally lifted its head.

Rustle.

Ah, yes. I forgot about you.

Rustle. 

You should have seen your disciple reach the end of magic.

Rustle.

I wonder, what kind of face would you make?

Would you cry like Rubia? Stare blankly like Noah?

Or would you giggle?

Rustle.

I don’t know. I can’t know your thoughts, your feelings.

It’s what I wanted to know most in the world.

What I wanted to hear more than anything.

But you never told me.

Rustle.

You mischievous, arrogant brat.

I want to hear your slightly sharp, slightly playful voice.

I want to see your teasing but gentle smile.

So small in stature, in build, in everything, yet larger than anyone I knew, I want to laugh with you.

You were the one who opened my closed eyes.

Who let me hear through my blocked ears.

Who helped me up when I’d collapsed.

Sirin.

Rustle.

Sirin, who always came to wherever I was.

Who appeared like a ghost whenever I was struggling.

Who would bring an umbrella when it rained, shade when it was hot, warmth when it was cold, Sirin, who always approached me.

Sirin.

Rustle. 

You, 

You became my lingering regret.

I wonder, did I become your regret?

Did I remain as your lingering thought?

If so, that would be nice.

Rustle.

If so.

If not, 

This time, I’ll, 

I’ll come to you.

You always came to me.

This time, I’ll go to you.

I have to go.

That’s equivalent exchange.

That’s the way of the world.

So, wait for me.

Even if it’s somewhere I could never reach.

I’ll find a way, no matter what.

Step.

Finally, my steps came to a stop.

I reached my destination.

The last paragraph that would end my story.

When I arrived there, when I saw it, I swallowed dryly.

It was a little bitter, a little sweet.

And a little disappointing.

Then, I caught my breath.

Once, twice, three times.

With every breath, my chest grew heavier, but I held it back.

At last, I raised my head.

I looked at the place I had to go.

There was my destination.

There was the end of infinity.

There was a future that could not exist.

And, 

There, 

Was a miracle.

A miracle I thought was impossible, yet had become possible.

A miracle I thought would never happen, but happened all the same.

A miracle.

‘…Ha. This time… I was supposed to be the one going.’

And so, I, 

I left the last remaining paragraph here.

And, as always, with a smile, 

I reached out to take the hand of the miracle.

‘…That’s cheating.’

* * *

There once was a mage who loved magic.

A mage who loved the miracles magic could create.

But a mage is someone who must not pursue miracles.

Ignoring equivalent exchange, chasing miracles that break the foundation and the truth of magic, this must never be done.

Even so, that mage wished for a miracle.

They walked a path no mage should walk.

In the process, the mage became a grand mage.

Abandoned by magic, they became a spirit master.

Chosen by mages, they became the Tower Master.

Even after becoming someone who must never again chase or desire miracles, the mage, the grand mage, the spirit master, the Tower Master, still longed for a miracle.

Ceaselessly, they wished and advanced forward.

They leapt as the Tower Master.

Walked as the Spirit Master.

Grew weary as the Grand Mage.

But only after becoming a mage did they discover it.

A true miracle, 

One that defied equivalent exchange.

One that broke the foundation and truth of magic.

But it was only something they had found.

They could not grasp it. Could not reach it. Could not even see it.

For a mage, a miracle was something that could never be achieved.

And so, on the verge of complete collapse, 

Because of a single phrase from a small girl, 

The mage, who had been Tower Master, Spirit Master, Grand Mage, 

Became a mere, insignificant human, not a mage.

And so, they came to hold a miracle in their hands.

They were able to achieve a miracle.

They were able to wish for a miracle.

In that moment, 

The human, no longer a mage, 

Became certain.

Past, present, future.

Whatever world it may be.

Whatever mage it may be.

The one to reach the end of magic, 

Was the first and the last.

And so,

That human reached the end of magic.

The first and last to reach the end of magic,

Achieved a miracle.

That human’s name, 

The name that remained as legend, 

Was not Tower Master.

Was not Spirit Master.

Was not Grand Mage.

Was not anything else, 

[The Mage, Serr (End).]