Episode 163: The North #3
‘It’s that thing.’
Yohan knew it. The source of the eerie sense of familiarity he had felt in the snowy mountains was that black figure.
‘It was also the one that caused the avalanche.’
And the one responsible for triggering this natural disaster.
“Everyone, stay focused! I’ll break through the front!”
He had found the answer.
Yohan refocused his mind.
Mana gathered at his fingertips, forming multiple spheres of pure destructive energy. Even if he couldn’t completely stop the avalanche, he could at least carve out a path for survival.
Just as he was about to fire the spheres—
Crackle—!
“…!”
It happened in an instant.
The mana that should have flared and exploded from his fingertips vanished as if it had been cut away. No, it hadn’t simply disappeared—it was as if the fundamental principles of magic itself had been twisted.
The calculations rewound, and the computational process was reversed—even before he had fully completed his spell.
‘It’s inversion.’
A high-level form of magic that forces the calculated results to revert to their original equations. Only those with exceptional computational speed and mastery over all magical formulas could even attempt such a technique.
‘Is this even possible?’
Yohan’s pupils trembled slightly. Rupture Point was at least an Advanced-Tier spell. Since he had personally improved it, it could even be considered Transcendent-Tier.
And yet, the enemy had instantly analyzed and inverted it the moment they saw it?
“Director! The avalanche is getting closer!!”
But now was no time to be distracted. A blinding white storm was surging toward them. Yohan steeled his resolve and aimed his fingertips once more.
‘I’ll just do it again.’
Mana surged at his fingertips. Kwaaaa! A Rupture Point with explosive properties took shape.
Crackle!
But it was immediately inverted again. The enemy was undoing his spells faster than he could cast them. Rage flared within him, but he had no time to let emotions consume him.
This was a moment for quick decisions. The lives of not only Francia and Rudbeckia but also many other warriors present depended on him. Yohan shouted urgently.
“Elena! My magic is being inverted! Join the mages preparing for defense!”
“But what about you, Director?!”
“I’ll fight until the end!”
Yohan stepped forward. Crunch. His foot sank softly into the snow. Elena hesitated for a moment before turning back to join the other mages, channeling her mana.
Kwoooooo—!
The avalanche was now in clear view. It would reach them within 30 seconds. He had to succeed before then.
Crackle!
But once again, his spell was inverted.
‘This damn—’
Yohan bit his lip. The ability to use such high-level inversion magic instantly meant the enemy was no ordinary mage. Even the Tower Masters paled in comparison to them.
In the end—
“It’s coming!!”
Kwagugugugugu!
The avalanche collapsed upon them. A massive snowstorm engulfed everything in its path, instantly erasing the boundary between land and sky. Yohan’s vision was swallowed by a blinding white.
His mana manipulation and spatial distortion techniques for high-speed movement were also being inverted. Escape was impossible.
Kwooooooo!!
Yohan’s body was hurled into the air. As he was lifted, his entire body began to freeze like solid ice.
He had been swallowed whole.
Up, down, left, right—direction lost all meaning. It felt as if he were floating in zero gravity.
Though he had erected a mana barrier to protect himself, the overwhelming pressure was impossible to resist.
He was consumed.
***
Yohan opened his eyes.
“Ugh…”
A sharp pain throbbed in his temples. His brain felt like it had been shaken nonstop, leaving him nauseous. It was as if he could vomit at any moment.
‘Where am I?’
Despite the discomfort, he remained calm and carefully observed his surroundings. There wasn’t a single sliver of light, but from the sounds, temperature, and air movement, he could tell he was inside a cave.
‘There’s no way I ended up here just from being caught in the avalanche… Someone must have brought me here.’
Slowly, Yohan drew upon his mana. There were no issues with his mana circuits—he could start fighting at any moment. Finding a way out of here and regrouping with the warriors wouldn’t be a problem.
But first, he had to confirm the identity of that black figure. It was likely the one who brought him here. Every event led back to that entity.
‘Let’s see what’s ahead.’
He got up.
Using a light conjured from mana, he walked deeper into the darkness.
The cave walls were covered in murals. One depicted a long-haired woman receiving a fruit from a monstrous figure with the appearance of a demon.
‘A bargain?’
Receiving something from a demon—it wasn’t hard to grasp the implication. She had likely traded her soul for power. And that woman was probably the same entity that had caused the avalanche.
‘But what’s the significance of this painting?’
Was it merely a record?
Or had it been deliberately placed here for him to see?
‘I should keep moving.’
Shaking his head, Yohan continued walking.
The murals stretched endlessly along the cave walls.
One showed the woman summoning light. With a gesture, she split the sky and raised the earth, depicted as if she were a god.
Then, at a certain point, the murals began to fade. It wasn’t because his eyes were tired or the light had dimmed—the paintings themselves were becoming fainter.
‘The background is growing darker.’
The imagery turned increasingly grim. The woman who once radiated light was now depicted in despair, weeping. In front of her stood a man and another woman.
“…”
Yohan kept walking, carefully studying the murals. The paintings showed a storm raging. The once-bright sun had completely set, leaving only darkness.
Then, a pocket watch appeared, its second hand moving backward—a clear sign that time had been reversed.
In the next scene, the woman, now bathed in sorrow, continued to cry. Beside her, the man from before was depicted shouting at her in anger.
The mural continued.
The man no longer spared the woman a glance.
As Yohan traced the sequence of paintings, he saw the grieving woman following the man, only to eventually kill him when he refused to acknowledge her.
The radiant woman’s face gradually twisted in the murals. The reverence people once held for her had changed—not into admiration, but into fear and madness. In the next painting, flames engulfed her surroundings.
Then, the final image.
The backward-turning clock.
The woman in tears.
And in her arms, a man…
His eyes were a dark, deep blue. His hair was navy-colored.
The man in the mural… bore an uncanny resemblance to Yohan himself.
“…What the hell?”
Yohan’s brow furrowed.
A wave of unease rose within him.
‘No, thinking that’s me is too much of a stretch. I need to analyze the meaning first.’
Only one interpretation came to mind.
She had turned back time, failed to reclaim her love, and her life had crumbled as a result.
If that were the case… it meant she had regressed.
Honestly, he found it hard to believe.
This wasn’t some fantasy story—how could time be reversed?
But his cold, rational mind had already reached a conclusion.
‘That black figure… turned back time.’
After all, hadn’t he himself been reincarnated?
If reincarnation was possible, then regression wasn’t out of the question.
‘If that’s the case, then…’
The Celestial Mage.
If anyone could do it, it would be them.
‘Could that black figure be the Celestial Mage?’
His thoughts accelerated. Once he considered that hypothesis, everything started to make sense— the ability to instantly reverse the rupture points he had refined, the presence of incredibly pure mana even amidst dense dark energy.
And then there was the massive avalanche, a force akin to a natural disaster, wielded at will—
‘Insane.’
Yohan felt his entire body turn cold. A shiver crept up his spine. If that black figure was indeed the Celestial Mage, and if they harbored ill intent—
‘How am I supposed to win against that?’
No solution came to mind.
This was his first time encountering the power of the Celestial Mage firsthand, but he had heard of it many times before—long before he had even reincarnated into this world.
A mage who had reached the celestial realm, a mythical being who could create something from nothing, alter the environment, and split continents apart with a mere gesture.
My spells is also reverse by them. That alone was proof enough.
There was no way to defeat the Celestial Mage.
‘No, first I need to figure out their intentions. Why cause an avalanche? Why bring me here?’
If they had meant to kill him, they could have done so already. It seemed absurd to call it just an avalanche, but if they truly intended to eliminate him, they wouldn’t have stopped there.
The Celestial Mage must have a reason.
Just as Yohan reached that conclusion and took another step forward—
“Yohan Harsen.”
A cracked voice echoed from the darkness. It was the voice of an old woman, worn by time.
Yohan instinctively turned his head and brightened his magical light.
A hunched figure in a pitch-black robe stood before him, looking straight at him. The presence they exuded was overwhelming. And yet, it did not suffocate—it made the air feel clearer.
“…Are you the Celestial Mage?”
Yohan asked calmly. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t shaken. But now was the time for a composed conversation.
“You’re quick-witted. To recognize me just from the murals… Yes, the Celestial Mage. That is what the world calls me.”
Tap. Tap.
The old woman took slow steps forward. But something was off. With each step she took, time seemed to move in reverse.
Her wrinkled skin smoothed, her hunched back straightened. Her once-clouded eyes regained their clear brilliance.
She was no longer an old woman.
She was the young woman Yohan had seen in the murals.
“…It seems you were the one who brought me here. What do you want?”
Suppressing the pounding of his heart, Yohan asked. A sense of unease welled up within him.
“Yohan Harsen, I wish to speak with you.”
The Celestial Mage smiled faintly.
“I don’t understand your intentions. This is our first time meeting—what could you possibly want to discuss with me?”
“Heh, you do not know the truth, do you? You have no idea what your lovers are hiding from you.”
Yohan narrowed his eyes.
“…Hiding something?”
“Yes. A most insidious desire.”
The Celestial Mage snapped her fingers. A rift tore through space, connecting two points in an instant.
It was a spatial magic often used by the Tower Master—one of his signature techniques.
“The truth of Francia Fervache.”
Thud.
A figure fell through the rift.
Yohan’s eyes widened.
Long, flowing obsidian-black hair. Eyes closed, their irises a deep crimson, like blood.
His heart pounded.
But he couldn’t afford to waver.
Yohan steadied his expression and asked,
“…What do you want?”
“For you to know the truth.”
The Celestial Mage smiled.
“I refuse to be the only one left drowning in regret, bound by the mistakes of the past.”