A boy let out a heavy sigh, which turned into white mist before vanishing. The chill that spread through his lungs was refreshing, but just when had it gotten so cold? Winter was still far away, but the temperature changed drastically the further up the mountain he climbed.
It was said that every thousand meters above sea level dropped the temperature by ten degrees. And with the fluctuating autumn weather, it wasn’t all that strange for the mountain air to be quite chilly. But this intense cold was nothing to be sneezed at.
“Why did I have to get sent to a mountain like this right after arriving in Germany...?”
The boy idly complained to himself, standing directly above a fir forest as he looked up at the bright sunshine beaming through the clouds. He heaved another sigh, which looked not unlike the clouds overhead before it too vanished into the atmosphere.
On this day, modern magician Yakagi Suimei was deep in the mountains of Germany on the orders of Nettesheim, the leader of the Society. Now, speaking practically, anyone who self-identified as a “magician” was likely to get suspicious looks regardless of whether they were telling the truth or not. To most people, after all, magicians were something out of fiction.
Merlin, Morgana, Odin, Circe, the three witches from Macbeth... If one were to start listing all the examples, it would take forever. But if you asked ten different people, they would all tell you the same thing: “Magicians aren’t real.” That was common sense. All normal people knew about, at best, were stage magicians.
However, that didn’t change the fact that magicians were indeed very, very real—even in the modern world overrun with science and technology. And they were just like the magicians of fiction that everyone thought of when they heard the word. They unraveled the mysteries and manipulated wondrous phenomena.
In fact, magicians had guided humanity with their extraordinary powers since antiquity, largely contributing to the world’s prosperity. They facilitated all scholarly pursuits, beginning with natural philosophy, and it was no exaggeration to say that they’d built the foundation for the wonders of the world. However, in the modern era, their achievements were superseded by science and their existence had gradually been relegated to the pages of fiction since the days of Robert Boyle.
And so, in the present day and age, the mythical creatures known as magicians continued to pass down their knowledge of the mysteries in the shadows. One such creature was a boy from Japan, Society magician Yakagi Suimei.
Suimei came to a sudden stop. Just how long had it been since the mountain path disappeared? No matter how much he kept walking, all he could see around him was the same verdant scenery.
Scowling at the cold air, he took both a regular map and a star chart out of his bag and threw them on the ground. He then muttered a few strange words as he glanced up at the sky before taking another good look around him. When he did so, the two maps were now in a different spot on the ground from where he’d thrown them.
“Hmm... At least I’m not lost.”
He was still going in the right direction. All he had to do to arrive at his destination was press forward. But in spite of that, all he could see in front of him was a thick, dark forest. The evergreens were packed together so tightly that visibility was grim.
A dark forest was hardly an obstacle for a magician like him, however. If he just used magicka to illuminate the path, he would reach his destination without issue. But rather than resorting to magicka, Suimei lazily pulled a flashlight out of his suit pocket.
“Hmm?”
Click, click...
The switch on the flashlight let out a futile cry. It was functionally useless.
“Well, crap. It’s broken. Man, he really went all-out for me, didn’t he?”
Indeed, the flashlight had been a birthday present from Suimei’s best friend—something he’d given him right before leaving Japan this time. Suimei hadn’t used it even once yet, but it had apparently died without ever giving him the chance to.
Suimei scratched the back of his head in a troubled manner, and then returned his birthday present to his suit pocket. Technological devices often malfunctioned in the hands of magicians. The more one steeped themselves in the mysteries, the more they separated themselves from science. Sometimes their very touch was enough to render devices that depended on it inert.
Such was the case with Suimei’s flashlight, which had given up on him. But this wasn’t an entirely new experience. Far from it. It wasn’t that uncommon for the turnstiles or the automatic doors at the train station to give him grief.
Now, a flashlight was a relatively simple device. It couldn’t really be called high-tech. But nevertheless, modern ones still used things such as organic electroluminescence, diodes, and the like, so they were far more advanced contraptions than they once used to be.
It was likely exactly that that had done Suimei’s flashlight in. But even so, having something as simple as a flashlight break in his hands like this was a first. That meant there was a possibility something else was at play here. It was something people often heard about, or sometimes even experienced for themselves, at certain holy sites or haunted grounds. Cameras, lights, and radios would suddenly cease functioning.
According to magickal theory, electromagnetic waves had a nature that made them highly susceptible to the mystical. Electromagnetic waves were important in the world of mysteries as a wavelength of light, but they also held great significance in the sphere of science as part of the theory of universal eternity. That’s why it was said that the closer something was to mystical theory, the harder it was for electromagnetic waves to function properly on a purely scientific basis—meaning there was a possibility that there was a mystical presence in the area so strong that it exerted a constant influence on any electronic device.
A barrier, huh?
Indeed, the abnormal cold of the forest wasn’t solely because of the high altitude. Its bleak darkness wasn’t just because of the tree cover and clouds overhead, either. And, very similarly, Suimei’s flashlight hadn’t broken just because he was a magician.
In short, there was a barrier here that ensured anyone who entered the forest unwelcomed would lose their way. Along with the unnatural chill and looming darkness that threatened to swallow you whole, it was more than enough to deter any ordinary intruders.
Suimei could palpably sense an invisible boundary right in front of him. But even so, he didn’t hesitate to step forth. The sensation of his own footsteps was unreliable at this point. He couldn’t feel the branches and leaves he was treading upon, let alone the firm earth under them. Unlike regular darkness, it felt like he’d stepped into a physical night—one that clung to his skin like moisture. Walking into it was like sinking into a black sea. It was enough to send any normal person running the other way, but Suimei pressed onward confidently.
Eventually emerging on the other side of the treeline, a blinding light assaulted Suimei. When he could finally see through the afterimage burned into the back of his eyes, a paved path opened up before him. It was so neatly laid and inviting that it made him doubt the bleak journey he’d been through to get to this point.
“I guess my destination is at the end of this path.”
He could vaguely see the silhouette of a building up ahead. Surely that was his objective. The mission that the leader had given him this time around was a rather odd one.
“Congratulations. Now that you’re a high grand class magician, we’ve decided to grant you an assistant. An old friend of mine lives where I’ll be sending you. I’d like you to go pick up your assistant from him.”
Suimei’s face had twisted up quite severely upon hearing that. The leader of the Society, Nettesheim, was known for pushing unreasonable demands on others with an innocent smile. Virtually everything out of his mouth begged a quip back.
In any event, it was quite common for magicians to sequester themselves away in remote locations. Be it in the middle of the mountains or on a completely isolated island—the more secluded, the better. Suimei’s only suspicion here was that this place wasn’t recorded on the ancient map at Society HQ.