A Returner’s Magic Should Be Special - Chapter 298


A Returner’s Magic Should Be Special Novel

Chapter 298. Praying (1)

A white space where nothing existed.

It was a training Shadow World created by mobilizing all of the technology that the Magic Tower had at its disposal. It was a seemingly ordinary space, but it had some special functions, unlike the usual training Shadow Worlds.

The most important of them, time flew by sixty times faster than the outside world.

In most other Shadow Worlds, a day was equivalent to an hour, a whopping ratio of twenty-four, but in this Shadow World he could spend more than twice as much time. In short, the two months he spent here were equivalent to a day in the outside world.

In such a space, Desir stood tall while holding a cane with a red-colored magic stone.

[-What I attained is… the essence of magic.]

Zod reached a level unprecedented in human history, the Eighth-Circle. And at the same time, he was able to achieve a dramatic realization.

[-As soon as I reached the Eighth-Circle, I sensed that the Eighth-Circle spells could not fully utilize my mana with the existing spell system we used. That magical system of calculation was created without considering the Eighth-Circle spells in the first place, so while unexpected, this is obvious in hindsight.]

All of the magical spell systems, especially our modern algebraically derived system, were designed to be optimized for universal use by the magicians of that time. It was only natural that Eighth-Circle magic, which had never existed until that point, was incompatible with such a system.

[-But nevertheless I moved my mana to forcefully attack Priscilla without using any spells. At that very moment, the mana began to move in a way that felt like a spell array, even though I was not consciously developing one.]

Spells were the result of moving mana under the thorough control and calculation of a magician. This was an absolute rule,

a fundamental truth, in this world. But Zod was saying that the mana was willing to assist in development of a spell. Even for Desir, who dealt with magic far beyond all common sense, Zod’s story seemed far-fetched.

[-The formula that was made through this method was different from the ones in our conventional magical system. The basis of the formula that made up the magic had not changed, but the detailed composition and expression of it was certainly different.]

At first, the sound of the voice, which had sounded crystal clear, gradually began to mix with static noise. It would not have been easy to capture his thoughts in the middle of an urgent situation. It seemed that his limit was approaching.

[-The power of the Eighth-Circle magic changed according to my will.]

The noise worsened and soon completely swallowed Zod’s voice. No matter how much he strained himself to listen, it was too hard to understand anything. But Zod’s last few words sounded clearer than any other.

[-I… believe in you.]


That was where Zod’s voice message ended.

‘Thank you, Zod Exarion.’

Desir shuddered. Of course, there was some admiration for the extent Zod had reached, but thanks to him, Desir was able to jump over a wall.

‘I’ve been stuck thinking within the system.’

Desir had limited ability to develop spells using the modern system with his mana capability, so he had recreated other magic systems using the modern system as a base.

The magic that was created was so efficient that it was incomparable to the widely used modern magical system, and it boasted unparalleled power. However, it was not without limit; there were only so many variables he could adjust while

working within the framework of modern magic.

‘When Zod reached Eighth-Circle, he left the realm of our magic system and found something powerful waiting outside of it. If I can do the same, if I can deviate from the framework of our magic system… ’

To break away from the framework of the existing magical system was no different from creating a new one.


Desir could not help laughing. He felt like a Fourth-Circle magician attempting to be an expert magician.

‘But, if this is possible… ’

Instead of efficiently changing existing magic, if he created magic that was best suited to him in the first place…

If that was possible, Desir might be able to go beyond what Zod had achieved in his final moments.

But there was one problem.

‘Although I have sixty times the amount of time, that only gives me two months to work with.’

Priscilla’s attack had already begun, and the situation was dire. There was no time to waste. Desir hurriedly began his research, but it was more complex and nuanced than anything else he had worked on in the past. If modifying the current spell system to make his spells more efficient was akin to adjusting the syllabic emphasis of a single word, Desir was having to make new words by completely altering the way words were spoken.

Ultimately, Desir had to move each particle of mana in its most optimal form, which presented a nearly limitless number of combinations. Just trying to process a reasonable system for managing all the possibilities made him dizzy.

‘I wonder how the existing magic systems were created. It was hard to connect words together, but to rebuild the units that form them… ’

Desir sighed and went back to work, immersing himself as deeply as he could in the nature of mana.

‘Wait, hold on.’

Desir's mind, which had become as sharp as a blade, reached a sudden burst of inspiration.

‘Maybe there’s a rule in the mana arrangement itself?’

It was an idea that was derived unconsciously, but Desir quickly embodied it.

‘The movement of mana is akin to ink that writes letters, which are only lines, but those lines have meaning because of formalized and assembled rules. Using those rules, we give meaningless lines purpose through the sounds that eventually form a word.’

If this logic was correct…

‘There is a principle of creation that encompasses all magical


That proved to be the turning point.

Desir began his analysis of all existing magical systems that he had mastered. Any magic left within raw data or literature he had encountered, from ancient times to the modern magic system, the physical structure of mana circles themselves, the rearrangement of spells to increase efficiency, abnormal spells like Imagery Magic and Blood Magic, and even inherited traditions like Davinachon and his grandmother used.

After detailing the process used in each magical formula, he broke them apart and stored mana equivalent to sound in his head. Holding such raw mana was reckless, but Desir was filled with conviction. He mashed the mana together and formed a tight sieve around it, letting the mana arrange itself however needed.

Five days passed.

‘Found it.’

When the tens of thousands of arrangements were completed, a sieve of overlap began to form. It was a testament to Desir’s theory.

After much consideration, Desir ultimately decided to call it the root language.

Desir Arman had theoretically identified the creation of magic that each species instinctively mastered over the thousands of years. The next step was all too easy. Less than eight days later, Desir had used the root language to reform all of the sounds that would be the backbone of his new system.

A week later, a word-level formula was completed using his new equivalent to an alphabet.

‘All that remains is the implementation of spells.’

For Desir, who had studied the modern system in the past and had already been manipulating spells as entire phrases, the rest of the process was child’s play.

After two months, Desir Arman had truly mastered the most

efficient system of magic possible.

* * *


The resonant sound of mana rang out. Desir’s spell array developed before his eyes at a tremendous speed. Priscilla just stared at the array that continued to spread, as if her soul had been taken away by its splendor.

Such a situation was so absurd it was impossible to predict. Everything was meaningless in front of Desir’s level that exceeded all common sense. At the moment the spell was complete, a dazzling flash came up that could hardly be seen directly with the naked eye.

A huge pillar of light soared. It was a huge spear of epilepsy-inducing light that discharged huge electric currents.

Desir looked down at Priscilla with a dull look.

‘Let’s finish this, Priscilla.’

Desir put his entire heart and feelings into the massive spear, shooting it forward as memories of past and fallen colleagues blazed through his mind.


An eardrum-bursting sound erupted from his right, reaching its peak velocity far past the speed of sound. If the attack had started at that speed, it would have snuck up on Desir completely undetected.

A blast of aura was rocketing at an unbelievable speed. Any knight who had reached Bishop-Class was capable of shooting their aura in an attack that exceeded their weapon’s range, but this was clearly far beyond that level.

Would this be comparable to hundreds of knights making a simultaneous attack?

The scene of a crescent moon, which was tens of meters wide, cutting down everything in its path was quite frightening.

‘If I ignore that, I’ll die.’

Desir’s intuition warned him as much, even though it should have been impossible to even reach him through his spatial distortion shield. He hurriedly redirected the spear and sent it rocketing towards the incoming aura.


His vision was dyed white by the enormous current that erupted when aura and electricity collided. The aftermath of the collision between two huge forces swept over the entire area, leaving nothing behind.

‘That will work.’

Desir turned his eyes toward Priscilla. In her current condition, she was completely incapable of defending herself. Though she had not been hit by the spear, there was no way she emerged from the resulting shockwave uninjured.

However, the dust cloud disappeared and her appearance was perfectly fine. Someone had blocked the aftermath from reaching her.

A man of enormous build reminiscent of an old oak tree. A knight in pure white armor stood in front of Priscilla.

Desir’s eyebrows arched up. It was obvious that the man was the one who had just launched the surprise attack. And him standing there meant that he was moving faster than the aura he fired.

It was a phenomenal speed. Priscilla managed to open her lips and barely call out his name.

“… Argo.”

Argo, the commander of the Holy Paladins of the Artemis Church.

‘… Wasn’t he supposed to be fighting the Royal Guard?’

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