Time is like flowing water, so easily it passes by even if you don't hold on to it.
And so it seems all the more swift to those who have nothing to hold on to.
-The Dark Hall of Morg-
This place, always immersed in shadow, takes the form of a tall tower.
Towers that rise sharply under a gloomy sky where crows fly in flocks.
And on the highest of them, on the throne of the Great Council, sat a man.
Skinny and tall, with a sinister aura radiating from his back.
A grim-looking man with black hair and black eyes stared down at the ground below.
Morg Snake.
Responsible for the Mage Master Morg's Dark Hall and considered the third in rank within the family.
After Morg Respane, the head of the family, and Morg Adolf, the representative of the Light Hall, he is the most powerful man in the House of Morg.
However, unlike Respane and Adolf, who are close siblings, they had a good friendship, but Snake, who was a bit distant, was different from them.
And Dark Hall also gives the impression that he is somehow distant within the family, in keeping with Snake's personality.
Whatever. The Dark Hall lurks in the shadows, conducting secret research and experiments, and the fruits of their labor are the spear and shield of the Morg, so Snake, who oversees all things Dark Hall, is clearly indispensable to the Morg.
"...."
Such was Snake, now frowning and looking down at the tower.
There was a girl standing there, looking up at him with a chubby face.
Morg Camus. A member of the Light Hall and the future owner of Morg House.
Snake spoke in a low voice.
" ..., a member of the Light Hall, what are you doing here?"
There was little reason for a Morg from the Light Hall to come to the Dark Hall.
Except for the quarterly exchange of skills.
Even then, it's only between established practitioners, so there's even less reason for the recently turned seventeen-year-old Camus to come here.
But.
"I left the Light Hall."
Snake's eyes widened a little at Camus's words.
His eyebrows wiggled at the next words.
"I wish to join the Order."
The bombshell. It's not normal to switch factions.
Especially not from the position of young master, the man responsible for Morg's future.
Snake was dumbfounded and speechless for a moment.
Only after a long moment did he finally speak.
"...Why?"
"Because I'm tired of struggling."
Camus answered immediately, and Snake fell silent again.
Snake knew from reports that Camus had been searching the Black Mountain depths for Vikir for years.
He also knew from reports that Camus had not only been unsuccessful in his search, but that there had been no small harvest in recent years.
"...I guess you didn't find it after all."
"Yeah."
Camus nodded coolly, admitting her failure.
They had spent the last hour frantically searching the depths, but in the end, they hadn't found Vikir's remains.
A bond at age eight. And reunited at fifteen.
Those few days at the Red Fang Castle were the happiest of Camus's life.
She wondered if it would be the same if she were to get married and go through the honeymoon period. At the time, she believed the happiness would last a lifetime.
But it was shattered. Hated by the natives of the jungle! Torn to shreds by a demonic creature!
Camus gritted her teeth and searched the depths.
And the more she searched, the more she had to admit.
Vikir was no more. He was dead. Not even his bones.
Is that why? Camus had been blackened.
"I want to learn black magic and bring him back to life."
"...How can you do that when you can't even find his body?"
"I'm sure his spirit still wanders the Netherworld, or maybe he's already turned into a ghost. Either way, I plan to summon it and bring him back to life. If we can find his remains later, so much the better."
At that, Snake put a hand to his forehead.
"Young lady. You're taking it too easy to switch factions, aren't you? You're going to leave the Light Hall, enter the Dark Hall, and walk the path of the Black Magic. What does this mean....?"
"It means that I will abandon my mother, my uncle, and all my authority as young lady, and live in the shadows for the rest of my life."
Camus cuts off Snake's words like a knife.
Snake's mouth hung half open, at a loss for words.
His expression doesn't change as much as his younger cousin Morg Banshee, who is a professor at the Colosseo Academy in the distance, but he seems really surprised this time.
With a grunt, Snake straightened his posture.
" ...What on earth do you want from me, Young lady?"
"As I said before, I have someone I want to learn black magic from and bring back to life."
"At best, you can animate a ghost, or a corpse."
"I thought there was a way to imbue them with the spirituality of the living."
"!"
Snake's expression twitched once more.
The kind of black magic that Camus was talking about was a dangerous kind of ancient black magic, the kind that required the sacrifice of one's own life in exchange for a "art of complete revival" that would bring the dead back to near full life.
It is, of course, strictly taboo, both in Morg, and in the Empire.
"... It is not only difficult to learn, but the chances of success are extremely slim, and even if you succeed in saving your victim after ten thousand attempts, there is a high probability that they will corrupt or run amok afterward."
"The soul of the person I'm trying to save is strong. Once I succeed, I don't have to worry about anything else-if I can succeed."
Camus's faith was firm and steadfast.
Seeing the look in her eyes, Snake paused for a moment.
After a long moment, he cut her off.
"I refuse."
A black folding screen then unfolded, closing the distance between Snake and Camouflage.
A clear sign of good luck.
But Camus didn't leave. Instead, she stood there, unmoving, and spoke.
"Marquis Snake. I know you love my mother."
Suddenly, the unfolding folding screens stopped.
Camus turned to Snake on the other side of the folding screen and continued.
"Love between close relatives is also an affair. You hid in the shadows of the Morg, saying you had no reason to look at the sky. Even now, because of your genius talent, you were forced to become the head of the dark hall, and you still love the head of the family."
There was no answer.
Only.
…Drrrr!
The black folding screens blocking my view were cleared away.
Snake, his face set in a stern expression, had slid down from his throne and was now standing in front of Camus.
"Did Adolf tell you that I'm a filthy human being? Did he tell you to go and mock me with those words?"
But Camus was unfazed.
"My mother and uncle never told me that, I only knew it from the rumors that circulated among the elders."
"Bullshit. The elders are all old and dead already."
"The will of the dead. Even the dead talk a lot."
With that, Camus drew up her mana.
A black aura formed behind her, and the spirits of old men with graying beards began to float around.
They were the ghosts of the elders.
Seeing that she had already learned to use black magic, Snake asked in surprise.
"What is this black magic! Who taught you this?"
"I'm self taught."
"...What, what?"
Snake was speechless.
Self-taught black magic? Was that even possible?
It's not an exaggeration to say that she broke new ground by herself. A truly remarkable talent, if true.
"...I'm not kidding. So it's true that you're a once-in-a-hundred-years talent."
Snake stroked his chin.
But that didn't change his demeanor.
"But that is irrelevant. I cannot allow young lady to enter the Dark Hall."
"Is that because you don't want to offend my mother? Because you still love her?"
Camus's retort left Snake momentarily speechless.
And Camus's next move was even more baffling.
She untied her clothes and walked forward.
Suddenly, all of her clothes fell to the ground and she was naked without a single thread.
Camus said to Snake
"I looked just like my mother when she was young. And if I were to take you into my body, would that change the story?"
She stepped up to stand directly in front of Snake.
Camus's eyes glowed with desire, a desire so strong and so hot that it would do anything to reach its goal.
And Snake's pupils shake when he sees those eyes.
" ...Get dressed."
"...."
"Get dressed, young lady."
Snake turned his head and gestured.
…Charak!
The clothes rose up like a snake and wrapped around Camus's entire body.
In front of Camus, who suddenly looked like he was dressed casually.
"Don't you ever insult my feelings for her again."
The Marquis of Morg Snake shook his head.
For a moment, she stared at him in silence.
Then her mouth opened.
"Thank you for the favor. Master."