Truth Weavers

Chapter 12.1, Year 959 of Chronicle of Truth, The Third Month of Azure Water Season (1/2)

Translator: Lizz

Magic filled the world. Although he had never seen the sea, he had always imagined that the magic vein resembled the sea.

It surged powerfully, pressed forward, and left no room for human will to intervene. By connecting oneself to it, one could borrow a fraction of its immense power. It was said that tidal waves could easily crush and sweep away both humans and their dwellings, yet Zechs felt no fear when it came to manipulating magic. Utilizing the magic control techniques drilled into him, he skillfully wove it into the desired shapes as smoothly as breathing. The result was an arrow-like flash, capable of slicing through darkness, piercing thick rock walls, and striking like a bolt of lightning.

Murmuring the standard phrases of the spell calmly, he unleashed the built-up mass of power toward the six targets set up in the training ground. The red light shot in a straight line, striking the center of one of the wooden square boards before he released the same flashes in quick succession.

“Stop!”

Evan, the Platoon Commander, called out, and Zechs stopped. By then, he had fired about five shots in total.

“Ugh… Only one hole, huh,” muttered a groaning voice from behind.

All of the red lights Zech had fired had focused on the central hole he made with the first shot.

“Next, Will.”

The young man whose name was called switched places with Zechs and performed the same technique, aiming at the newly arranged targets. The targets were arranged in two horizontal rows and three vertical columns, and the light struck the one on the upper left, blowing the board away. A few seconds later, the second shot grazed the edge of the central right board. As he prepared for his third shot with a slight pause, a voice called for him to stop, and perhaps shaken by this, his final shot veered significantly off the target.

“Alright, that wraps it up for everyone. Once again, Zechs holds the top record. Your precision in controlling magic is as remarkable as ever.”

The woman said in admiration, flicking the record sheet in her hand. No one voiced any objections.

“As always, you’re almost superhuman.”

“Aster, you should follow Zechs’ example and at least hit the target once.”

“My hands get numb in the cold.”

“Didn’t you say in the summer that it’s too hot to maintain your focus?”

Even at the Platoon Commander’s exasperated remark, Aster simply laughed. The other platoon members also chuckled, as if to say ‘It can’t be helped’, and some added comments like, ‘Why not have Zechs teach you?’

“Seriously, how do you manage to do everything exactly as you intend? Teach me your tricks!”

One of the platoon members grabbed Zechs by the shoulder and shook him playfully. Faced with the request, Zechs was bewildered and looked up at his senior comrade. Warren, who had just turned twenty, was taller than anyone else in the platoon and had muscular arms that looked almost twice the size of a female mage’s. With his rugged face, he looked less like a mage from the Iron Fortress and more like a bandit. However, contrary to appearances, Warren had a caring and compassionate personality.

“Tips, huh… I’m just doing exactly as I was taught.”

For Zechs, it was simply a matter of intuitively memorizing Leon’s magic control technique when establishing a connection to the magic vein with his own guiding vein and following it precisely. Since Leon’s magic control was perfect, Zechs’ magic control was almost flawless as well. To illustrate, it was like taking a written test; where others understood and remembered formulas and thought processes to solve problems, Zechs merely memorized the answers outright. While he didn’t make mistakes, his adaptability was low.

“Honestly, I’d also like to learn from Zechs’ Master.”

Aster sighed, and several other mages nodded in agreement.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough. Today’s training is over. Each of you, analyze your own issues and compile your methods for improvement.”

At Evan’s command, the entire platoon saluted in acknowledgment and soon began heading towards the residential quarters, as if fleeing from the biting cold wind. They chattered noisily, talking about things like prioritizing precision over rapid-fire capability, the difficulty of maintaining focus, and wondering what was for dinner. Along the way, they joined another platoon that had been training at a different area. Among them was Zechs, exchanging words with a few of his comrades.

Zechs had been at the Iron Fortress for two years and a few months. This was his third winter at the Fortress.

When Zechs first arrived at the Iron Fortress, he had been stubborn and reserved, but over the course of more than two years, he had fully integrated with those around him. Of course, among the two thousand or so mages at the Iron Fortress, there were those who envied and consequently hated Zechs for his exceptional talent despite being a Seldian. However, within his own platoon, where bonds grew strong enough to entrust one another with their lives, he had allies who would defend him from anyone wishing him harm. The change in his relationships with them did not come about due to any specific incident. If one had to point to a cause, it would be his acquaintance with Aster.

Aster Hart was a curious young man. Though he exuded an unmistakably noble aura, he was friendly to everyone, well-connected, and possessed a magnetic charm that continuously attracted those around him. His magic skills were not particularly outstanding – to be frank, they might not have even been enough to justify his presence at the Iron Fortress. It was an unspoken truth that he was there because he was the child of an upper-class noble. It wasn’t uncommon for nobles from the capital’s vicinity to send their children with guiding veins to the Iron Fortress because they didn’t know how to handle them.

Although Aster was friendly with everyone, he reportedly had no close friends he spent time with. For some reason, however, he took an interest in Zechs. Perhaps because they were in the same platoon, they started spending time together naturally, and from that point onward, the attitudes of those around Zechs began to shift.

Though there was still contempt and jealousy toward him, more people had begun to show friendly attitudes. At first, Zechs, who had never spoken intimately with anyone his age apart from Nia, felt bewildered. However, Aster’s considerate gestures toward the socially awkward Zechs gradually helped him feel included as a member of the platoon. The invisible wall that Zechs once thought would never be broken between him and the platoon members had quietly disappeared.

Zechs didn’t immediately grow accustomed to the changes in his surroundings. At times, he still felt as though he were dreaming. Yet, it was far from unpleasant. In fact, it was quite the opposite – he couldn’t hide his astonishment and joy at how comforting it was to be accepted by others.

Once he opened up, Zechs found that his platoon members were all pleasant individuals. Perhaps due to Evan, the Platoon Commander, being someone who didn’t overly wield her authority, her subordinates shared a similar demeanor overall. Among them, Zechs especially grew fond of Aster, who had played a key role in bringing about these changes. In every sense, Aster was a fascinating person.

Aster was knowledgeable. Not only did he recognize Zechs’ swordsmanship style at a glance, but he also had extensive knowledge outside the realm of magic. He understood the customs among the nobility, the dynamics of their power, and more. It was Aster who explained to Zechs that even the Iron Fortress had its factions, and that was why mages placed such great emphasis on their ‘Masters’. Coming from a rural area and having been isolated until then, Zechs was ignorant of such matters, and Aster often took the opportunity to teach him a variety of things.

“The Iron Fortress has Lord Lambert as its Commander-In-Chief at the top, followed by approximately thirty high-ranking mages known as Professors. These individuals are the ones running the organization. In battle, the Commanders act under their orders. Naturally, no one wants to remain just a regular foot soldier; everyone aspires to move up the ranks. First, Platoon Commander, then Company Commander… that’s the path. But do you know how Commanders are chosen?”

“How, you ask? Well, isn’t it through achieving accomplishments on missions and being appointed? I assume leadership skills are also considered, right?”

When Zechs gave his answer, Aster exaggeratedly shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, as if to say, ‘You don’t understand anything’.

“Of course, without ability, there’s no discussion to be had. But, for example, if there were two mages with similar achievements, which one do you think would get promoted?”

“…”

“The one who worked behind the scenes. Listen, Guilds were originally created by the Iron Fortress. While the actual management is handled by individual Masters, the ones in charge are the mages of the Iron Fortress. Furthermore, it’s predetermined which Professor oversees which Guild. The mages belonging to that Guild automatically fall under the faction of that Professor. Simply put, to advance your rank, you need the backing of mages within the same faction. When a Professor steps down, they’ll want to select their successor from their own faction. Mages of the same faction try to curry favor and offer bribes to make sure they’re chosen. You gain supporters both above and below you and climb the ranks that way.”

Listening to Aster’s explanation, Zechs was left speechless. He couldn’t understand why such an unnecessarily complicated process was necessary.

While he wasn’t naive enough to insist that the strongest should automatically rise to the top, the current system seemed to favor only those skilled at maneuvering social situations, leaving others behind.

“That’s just like the nobles.”

Though he had never personally witnessed or experienced it, from the stories he had heard from adults around him (mainly old Orga and Gateau), he had formed the impression that the world of politics was a realm where smooth talkers thrived and bribery ran rampant.

“Exactly. In the end, we’re all the same creatures.”

Aster replied, once again flashing that mocking smile of his at Zechs’ words.

“Well, that’s the reason everyone cares so much about who their Master is or who their opponent’s Master is. If your Master is someone with great influence, you’re more likely to climb the ranks.”

Zechs felt a surge of revulsion. No matter how distinguished the Master might be, it wouldn’t guarantee the character or abilities of the apprentice.

Aster laughed at Zechs, whose displeasure was apparent, as if to say that he had long since come to terms with such realities.

However, Aster never revealed who his own Master was. If he was of noble origin, he likely hadn’t been part of a Guild, and thus belonged to no faction.

Mages of noble descent could often be identified by their bearing or attire, but more than that, it was evident from the rooms they were assigned, which were strikingly different.

Like most mages, Zechs was assigned a small private room, furnished with a bed, a writing desk with a simple bookshelf, and a wardrobe that would be completely filled with just five sets of clothes. On the other hand, Aster’s room was four times the size of Zechs’. Naturally, the quality of the furniture and bedding was incomparable. Zechs was aware that there were several such rooms within the Iron Fortress.