A Real Human Being ( Frieren )

The following are select diary entries.

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…

I have no excuse to delay anymore. I have truly mastered every spell I had access to. The original reason why I stopped in this area, to learn more spells, is no longer relevant, and besides that, this place offers little to help me with my goals.

I am still studying how to materialize pseudo-clothing made out of the same solidified mana as my flesh. From what I deduced, this seems like an ability most demons share, and the reason why most of them in the original story could afford to walk around dressed so well despite living apart from human societies. I made no strides in understanding why I only unlocked this ability a week ago. My leading theory is that when I reached a specific level of power, or perhaps age, the understanding of how to shape my mana into clothing was unlocked. The process wasn't that different from what I already instinctively did when regenerating; that solidified mana clothing functionally wasn't very different from my own flesh, not in terms of composition. But it's as if I had a sudden breakthrough, and understood how to apply the same principle externally, outside of my body, and not only internally, which was inside my body.

Considering I am yet to discover how to fly, in a way, I am choosing to be optimistic about this new ability. After all, just knowing that such 'epiphanies' were possible tells me that flight may not stay beyond me for too long, and the issue wasn't my innate lack of skill, talent, or 'undemonlike' manner of thinking, as I initially suspected. It is extremely odd how this instinctive knowledge isn't instantly accessible to demons. Of course, it makes sense not to give a toddler the ability that will drain him dry of mana in an instant, but I can't help but think it feels far too artificial. Maybe even designed.

This can't be explained as an evolutionary trait, at least not to my understanding; while I could imagine genuine knowledge being passed down with magical analogues of genes somehow, I have trouble with how that process would be tied to the subject's age. It's too elaborate to be the work of evolution. I can't imagine enough demons dying because they wasted mana on creating clothing for a trait like this to emerge, nor the timeframe that would be required for evolution as I know it to do such work.

Admittedly, I am ranting again. The possible artificial nature of demonkind lacks real proof, and even my conjectures mostly operate on what I know about purely biological evolution. Considering that in the demons' case, magic is involved in every facet of our lives, including 'genetic' change through generations, I am reluctant to take that theory further until I stumble on further proof, or understand demonic nature better. I already mentioned it in one of my journals.

On a note more suited for the diary, I attempted to start monster research here out of reluctance to leave such a promising lair. It proved futile. The monsters in the area weren't common, and the few I found today turned out to be mutated beasts; animals of flesh and blood that utilize mana, not the solidified magical energy type monsters, who actually possess a core, and whom I need for my research.

Tomorrow I will have to leave this cave and continue to my next destination.

As odd as it is to admit, I hold some attachment to this place. Not quite fondness, nor does this cave feel like 'home', but it does give me a sense of security and protection.

I can suspect that this is my monster nature doing its part. Monsters in this world love such locations, which is why they tend to make old abandoned dungeons and buried ruins into their lairs. Though it's also possible that my own human preferences play a part. I was always fond of the dark. From my student days, I preferred working at night, when most normal people went to sleep, and I liked having space for myself; it always helped me feel secure.

Now, for some factual information. My preparation for travel is almost complete. A month ago, I re-wrote some of my older journals into more compact, revised versions, which I will take with me, while leaving the bulk behind in a specifically commissioned chest. I believe I mentioned making that order to the village's blacksmith. If my acquaintances in IT taught me anything, it's that having backups is never bad. If, for some reason, I would absolutely need physical copies of my earlier studies, I will find them here.

I also plan to mine and carry as many of the magical crystals as I can. I doubt they're that valuable, but lacking an abundance of coin, they can net me some spending money. So far, I could only afford to buy ink and paper, and the aforementioned chest, by looting monster nests for valuables, and that's not a sustainable way to make a living.

Despite those small concerns and issues, I am feeling quite enthusiastic about my upcoming journey. With my current capabilities, hunting and subduing monsters for research doesn't seem impossible anymore, though I am fully aware that one can't grow arrogant.

Even Frieren faced monsters she alone couldn't easily defeat, and the elven mage is more powerful than I can ever imagine myself becoming. Being careless could mean my death.

…

I haven't written an entry for an entire week. 

Back when I started this diary, I decided I would write in it every day, and for all these years, I did exactly that. I couldn't even open it for the whole week. Not because I didn't wish to, but because I physically didn't have the opportunity. 

I underestimated Tiefholz. I knew that this forest was one of the most ancient ones on the continent. When I did my research on it back in Nebeldorf, I came to know that the Old Empire, the one that spanned almost the whole continent, the one where Flamme popularized magic, the one that laid a foundation for all the current kingdoms… couldn't conquer it. 

They tried, and they pushed it back somewhat, but supposedly, the manpower required to even do that much was truly enormous. As a result, there were no human settlements within Tiefholz itself, nor anywhere within its true borders. 

I intimately understood why now. 

At first, when you approach Tiefholz, you will see its outskirts. You can easily mistake them for Tiefholz itself. It appears as an ancient forest, with a healthy monster population, and even some villages scattered here and there within it. 

But this isn't Tiefholz itself. What is now known as the outskirts was the land once recovered from the eldritch biome by the Old Empire, which nowadays slowly but surely is becoming a dense forest again. 

The real Tiefholz is located about twenty miles deep inside those outskirts. That's where the trees become big enough to blot out the sky, where the wooden giants, that may just be older than all the current kingdoms, compete for precious sunlight, devouring it so greedily that on the forest floor, you are in almost total darkness.

The outskirts have a monster population because it's the offspring of the monsters living in the Tiefholz. The young monsters are weaker; they can't compete with the old beasts that populate Tiefholz, so the weak are naturally pushed outside, towards the newer forest.

Which means that the really dangerous ones live in the "Deep Woods" themselves.

The 'true monsters', those that are composed of magical energy, in truth, do not need to fight amongst themselves. We can't use each other for sustenance, most of us do not even need sustenance, and those who do need precious little food to function. However, we are still territorial. Which means 'true monsters' still compete with the natural mutated wildlife just fine.

To put it bluntly, Tiefholz, or at least its outer edges, is a place of almost never-ending struggle for survival.

Even trees here aren't quite normal wood; they, too, are mutated magically, otherwise, they wouldn't have survived. Trees here are durable enough for me to have trouble damaging them, and that's aside from the odd ones that are poisonous to the touch, or have acid spewers growing on them, or that can actively attempt to strangle things with their roots.

Before coming here, I knew none of this. Just that this forest is a monster-infested place where humans don't dare to go. I did not expect it to be this world's Fangorn mixed with Mirkwood.

Over the last week, I don't believe I've slept for longer than fifteen minutes. While the monsters I encountered weren't overwhelmingly powerful, I cannot stress how many live here.

Only today, during my sixth day here, I managed to start building myself a basic wooden... [indecipherable scribbles and a big stain of some green liquid]

Hut. I've just been attacked again. Apparently this world has ents. Lost most of my left arm. It seems now I will see if demons can regenerate limbs.

In any case, the frequency of the attacks on me is lowering a little. I believe I am slowly clearing out this small area around me, and soon enough, I will only have to deal with occasional intruders.

I don't have a particular plan; at this stage, it's dangerous to plan. My goal is to survive and carve away some physical space for myself, to be able to do my research.

I won't be disturbed by anyone sentient here, and the nearest human settlements weren't too far. I could afford to buy materials and tools there.

…

***

"Hm… cluster six seems to be…" I tweaked the thin strings of mana that were connected to the exposed core, inevitably tearing a bit at the construct. I forced some energy into that part of the core, checking for a reaction.

The bird-like monster restrained by chains of light wept, but it wasn't a wail of pain. That sounded different from this species.

"Indeed, the sensory input of some sort. Most probably sight."

I could feel the core already destabilizing from my prodding, falling apart, so I released my energy and allowed the monster's core to collapse, as I turned around, brushing off the disintegrating blood from my fingers, even as the beast breathed its last.

I picked up my writing feather, dipped it in ink, and applied a few more careful strokes to the diagram.

I truly am grateful sometimes for the demonic body, the fingers of which do not shake, and that can easily draw straight lines and put to paper images I had in my head.

I could even write without seeing the paper. Which helped tremendously.

"Resonant Soul," I said, my voice echoing, and my sense of vision was replaced. I didn't see the book anymore, instead, I saw myself slicing the monster apart. My mana sense was also replaced with what I felt at the moment.

However, my thoughts were still my own, and my sense of hearing, smell, and touch still reflected the current reality.

I only replayed the memory for two of my senses, instead of completely submerging myself in it.

Which allowed me to keep recording.

At this point, it wasn't even that disorienting.

My research on monsters was slow going, but with over a decade doing it here, I acquired a lot of tangible data.

Every type of monster had a different 'heart', a different core. Kind of how a brain of a lizard would be different from a brain of any given rodent, different species of monsters had vastly different core structures, too. 

Which made my research slow-going and gruelling. Catching enough specimens of one monster species, vivisecting them while mapping out what I can about their core, then doing the same with another species, and so on.

The goal was to collect data and notice patterns. For instance, I already figured out some common structures within monster cores, I could tell at a brief inspection of new species which part is responsible for the bodies, and which for their minds, even if I had never encountered that type of monster before.

It's because, I believe, just like with organic life, all monsters share the same common ancestor, somewhere very far down the line. It didn't matter how much they evolved in the wild, there were recognizable structures inside, patterns one can recognize if one simply knows where to look. 

I had to develop a few diagnostic and 'surgical' pseudo-spells to do my work, such as the mana strings I used to directly interface with the monster's core. Those strings simply push my energy in the specific areas of the core; they served no purpose beyond prompting a response within the core's structure, which was why it was a 'pseudo' spell at best, not a true one.

I could feed a captive monster, and then, when I vivisect it, make it relive that memory. Observe exactly which part of its core lights up in satisfaction, where its reward centers are. Same for pain. Same for certain sensory feedbacks, such as sight, hearing, and touch. 

I used all of those methods extensively to simply collect data. Afterwards, I was spending hours per day analyzing it, creating hypotheses, doing more testing, and slowly creating generalized theories based on the results. 

The work was slow going, but my understanding unquestionably grew. 

I knew this was gruesome, the type of research that is hard to call ethical. Monsters are living beings after all, and I cause them a lot of unnecessary suffering. 

This isn't morally right. 

So I pray for forgiveness daily. Even though I continue to do my work. 

Ultimately, some advances in science can't be reached completely ethically. Not by a single person, and neither by a single demon. I did learn how to make most of my inspections and probing much less painful. Nowadays, my test subjects aren't in a horrific agony; they are merely distressed by either the memory I am showing them or by the knowledge that they are in captivity and something is being done to their bodies. After all, my current mastery over Resonant Soul allows me to provide them with tactile sensations of being healthy, even when they are being cut apart.

I broke out of my thoughts as I finished writing down the log of the vivisection.

"It should be morning." I mused, glancing up towards the ceiling, but only seeing how I was cutting up the monster.

Closing my eyes for a brief moment and dispelling my curse, I left the book open, allowing the ink to dry.

Meanwhile, I started cleaning up the containment area. There wasn't much left; the blood and bodies tended to simply disappear…

I blinked, gently lifting a feather the size of my palm from the ground. It was of beautiful emerald colour, almost glistering in the faint, magical light from the crystals in the ceiling.

"This is rare," I admitted, gently placing the feather in my pocket.

Just like with that boar near Waldherim, sometimes even magical monsters left behind pieces of themselves. I am yet to figure out the cause for this. If the cause for this phenomenon reflects in the core, it's subtle enough for me to be unable to notice it yet. After all, I had a few subjects over the decades of conducting tests here who also left behind an ingredient like that.

I think it's some failure in their core makeup, in the same way cancer is a genetic failure in human cells. Not as harmful, perhaps, but just as unintended. After all, this feather is made of much more condensed and stable magical energy, which is why it's left behind. Which meant that throughout this monster's life, this feather likely consumed a lot of power that could've gone into making it stronger.

I finish up dusting the floor before finally going back to the journal and gently closing it.

I finished my routine by refilling the ink, closing the bottle carefully, cleaning the writing feather, then picking up the books and leaving the containment area.

Outside, the sun greeted me.

The area all around was littered with gigantic wooden spikes pointed upwards, to discourage any flying monsters who loved to dive on unsuspecting victims. As a result, the surrounding area looked apocalyptic, as if everything in the clearing was at the bottom of some Viet Cong-made spike trap. But I grew to appreciate being able to walk around my territory without suddenly having a monster the size of a horse running me through with its beak.

The forest clearing where I currently live was man-made. Or, to be more precise, demon-made. The clearing was over three hundred meters wide, and walled off from the rest of Tiefholz with the biggest walls I could realistically build.

That earth-based shielding spell I bought all these years ago was one of my most invaluable tools for teraforming. With some rather surface-level adjustments, it allowed me to shift around a huge mass of ground, and some of the local trees made for amazing building material, hardy enough that most monsters couldn't simply breach the wall.

Jumping over the wall also wasn't an option for intruders, as there were two layers of walls and a great many spikes in between.

Flying monsters were more of a problem, but thanks to placing man-sized spikes everywhere, whenever another flock decided to try their luck in my territory, they had to fight me while I had the area advantage, plenty of cover, and a lot of magically-mutated wood to duck under, while they were stuck hovering over an empty area with nothing to obstruct my aim.

Still, while I managed to carve my place in Tiefholz, I could never completely relax here. Nor have I ever dared to grow arrogant.

I had to defend this territory practically every day. And whenever I left it for a week or more, for instance, when I went to the nearby human villages to trade, I came back to find it occupied with 'squatters'.

Luckily, it wasn't anything as ominous as "Tiefholz fighting back". The truth was much more mundane. Monster migration, and the younger monsters inevitably being pushed to the edges of the Tiefholz, because they are simply too weak to hold territory deeper inside. With the weakest monsters being pushed completely out, towards the Outskirts.

I was living on the edge of the ancient woods. Some distance into its territory proper, but nowhere near close to its darkest, most ancient depths.

I never dared to go deep into Tiefholz. Here, on the edge, there were only relatively young monsters. A lot of them, each year, there were new arrivals, but I knew it was much worse near the forest's heart.

Not due to the quantity of monsters there, in fact, I expected there to be fewer monsters prowling around its depths. But the quality of the monster deeper in was what concerned me.

Because there lived the monsters who occupied that territory undisturbed by either humans or demons for millennia. Spiegel, the monster who could create an identical clone of the enemy at ridiculous range, without even seeing the target, is the level of the monster I fear you may find deep in Tiefholz. Living in this world, I could properly appreciate just how ridiculous Spiegel was in the story. From all I know about magic, Spiegel's mana capacity must have exceeded Frieren's and every other mage's in the dungeon combined, for it to be able to feed their clones the equivalent amount of energy to their original counterparts.

It's a very basic concept, but if the mage has, say, ten unnamed mana units, and you create their clone that also has ten mana units, it means that you at least spent ten mana units to create the clone. Realistically, you probably spent twenty.

Spiegel managed to recreate a thousand-year-old mage who, arguably, was one of the absolute strongest in the world, and many other first-class mages besides. It meant that its magical strength was, frankly, unimaginable. I wouldn't be surprised if, in terms of sheer volume of mana, it was stronger than the Demon King.

In other words, Spiegel, the monster from a mythical era, is the type of existence whose sheer strength is far beyond what I can visualize. The mere knowledge that, logically, monsters from the same era, and maybe with the same strength, inhabit Tiefholz, served as a very good motivation to be careful and not venture where I am not supposed to.

I reached the house, entered, and carefully removed my boots. Like most of my clothing, they were made from my mana, but they won't disappear within a day, as long as I don't leave them too far away.

Once past the small lobby, I immediately headed to the basement.

A pulse of mana, and the magical crystals light up, revealing a spacious cavern. Most of the space was occupied by crudely made bookshelves, my earlier and less than stellar works as a carpenter, stacked with rows upon rows of journals and books.

I carefully placed the current journal in the empty space within the fourth shelf, where it belonged.

Observing the basement for a moment, I headed to the chest on the far side of the room, took out the feather, and carefully placed it on the table next to it. I will carve a wooden box for it tomorrow. Reagents like this could be brittle.

I glanced back, towards the stack of shelves, and looking at the countless journals… all I felt was dissatisfaction.

Not from the work I've done, but because I will have to abandon most of it.

As much as I figured out my life here, in Tiefholz, this was always a temporary stop on my way to the North. I will probably leave this year. The population of monsters in this area of the forests dropped to the point that I had to search for them nowadays, and it often proved difficult to deliver specimens alive to the containment area. Worse yet, I already vivisected the vast majority of the monster species living here, with my current tools and knowledge, pursuing further experimentation would yield fewer and fewer results.

Yet, this library, written by my own hand, will be abandoned. While I am already spending most of my hours a day carefully re-writing and summarizing the fruits of my research to carry physical copies with me, a lot of nuance and details will be much harder to recall. Even with my curse.

What bothers me isn't that I will have to torturously set up another dwelling in an area possibly just as hostile, that was a given. I would take the risk over venturing deeper into those woods and accidentally stumbling upon something on the level of a Spiegel.

What bothers me is the inefficiency.

How much of my work will be lost?

However, I also knew well that I hardly had much choice. I will, of course, make sure to transport all the journals to some safe area, which I will have to prepare, so it won't be lost to the elements too soon, but even that is a half-measure at best. I doubt I will ever come back to those woods. That would be too much of a detour on my way to the Norse.

The purpose of books is to be read. But I can't exactly just hand those away…

"...why can't I?"

I voiced, my mind racing, as I paused, forgetting to even breathe for a moment.

My research is very specific, and I doubt most magicians would find it useful. But some might. I considered similar ideas before. Science and research were never done in a vacuum, a community was necessary to facilitate the exchange of ideas and challenge assumptions.

Obviously there were no such magicians in the surrounding villages, and even if there were, I can't exactly show up in person and exchange notes. Not without exposing myself unnecessarily.

But recently I did acquire the spell for the summoning of the courier familiar, didn't I? With it at my back and call, I wasn't limited by distance, not truly.

While, from what I could tell, there was no central magical organization of any kind on the continent, just as manga implied for this era, I knew of at least several locations where magic was researched.

I glanced at my tomes again.

For a moment, I selfishly didn't wish to share. It was an odd, instinctive reaction.

I pushed it away, of course. Even putting aside that sharing knowledge that can help combat monsters is a morally right thing to do, there was another reason for doing it. Other people may come up with new applications for my research that I, with my specialization, simply won't consider. Which in turn may either directly help me, if I ever stumble on grimoires written by them, or help me indirectly by giving me ideas. Sure, the chance of my stumbling on the mage who made use of the knowledge I gave out is small, but it's better than letting the research rot in some forgotten, sealed basement.

I doubt my notes are anything groundbreaking in any case. Someone probably has done something similar before, I am sure that at least half of what I did here was re-invention of the bicycle, by mages' standards.

Still, intellectually, it's a sound thought.

While I can't rush into it…

"The idea holds merits."

It seems I will have to make a number of runs to the surrounding villages and acquire some more information. Particularly about where magic is being researched these days, to choose where to even address my mail, if I decide to go ahead with this.

Besides, it's been quite a few years since I last checked on the news, hasn't it? I would need to acquire some updated maps for my journey anyway.

***

Two years later, 

City of Magic Äußerst,

Schimmer leaned back in his seat, feeling the encroaching headache as he took another sip of his favorite herbal tea. He considered his teacup for a moment, glanced around, then realized he was acting silly; he was in his own office after all, perfectly protected from scrutiny or his latest apprentice's fussing over his habits and health.

Bah, as if alcohol ever killed anyone. In his position, being sober was much more dangerous for his heart.

Without hesitation, he extracted a small metallic flask from the inner pocket of his shirt, unscrewed the cap, and poured a few drops into the cup. After hiding the flask, he took another slow sip.

Then he allowed himself to glance down.

Before him lay a small pile of worn journals and a single opened envelope, from which a letter was peeking.

Sighing, the mage decided to read it again for the umpteenth time. Perhaps it would help him make up his mind.

"Greetings,

Whoever finds this letter and my journals, I kindly ask to pass them to the first qualified figure: a mage specializing in monsters or, if such a person does not exist in the area, an expert on mental magic. These notes are the fruits of my research and studies, and would only be useful to a mage who practices those very specific magical fields. I don't believe they would be worth any coin to anyone else."

The letter and journals had been delivered by a being conjured via a summoning familiar spell, the courier variant. Apparently, the package was dropped to a guard standing patrol on the wall, who had the foresight to pass it to his superiors. Eventually, it reached one of Schimmer's apprentices, and from there passed to Schimmer.

It wasn't rare for a magician to share research, but usually only with apprentices or -to Schimmer's distaste- for money. One could easily find books on beginner subjects for sale, along with grimoires scattered throughout the world. Research notes made during spell creation, however, were far rarer. Most middling mages weren't interested in such things, so they hardly constituted popular items. Unlike grimoires, such notes carried no immediate practical value to most magicians, so they were rarely sold.

But this was the least peculiar aspect of the letter.

"From now on, I will assume this letter addresses the qualified mage in question. The journals I sent are numbered one through fifteen. The first journal holds my theories, hypotheses, and axioms, discovered, created, or assumed during my studies. You will find references to the other fourteen tomes within the first one; each theory includes citation marks to the corresponding journals. Most theories are minor or concern very specific rules about certain areas of monster hearts and their functions."

Schimmer knew the writer was underselling those journals considerably.

As an accomplished mage who had developed many spells within mental magic, Schimmer was intimately familiar with magical research, both his own and his students'. He had suffered through countless such notes. Usually, research consisted of wild theories followed by practical attempts to apply them to spells. Sometimes it involved diving headfirst into grimoires from other magical fields, searching for specific sequences useful in one's own work.

What lay on Schimmer's table was nothing like that.

The first journal read almost like a book. Whoever wrote it seemed unfamiliar with standard terminology, which wasn't unusual, many mages away from broader magical societies created their own words for specific phenomena or effects.

Few, however, wrote a dozen pages simply explaining their terminology in brief, concise definitions.

Then came the work itself: axioms the author assumed to be universal truths, each with citations to examples in other journals explaining his reasoning. Then the theories-oh-oh, the theories.

The mage who wrote this came from a savage background. He used self-made diagnostic spells and crude, adapted mental probing techniques to accomplish his goals. Schimmer could name a dozen spells that would have served better than this mage's awkward creations.

But the sheer scope of his work was almost unbelievably extensive. Schimmer estimated this represented someone's lifetime; decades of ceaseless study, hunting down monsters, mapping how they functioned, and cataloguing everything.

The most frustrating part was that much of it exceeded Schimmer's own understanding. Aside from what was directly applicable to mental magic. Those notes Schimmer understood, as he understood their values.

The magician who sent those had fascinating theories about monster minds, believing most monsters shared remarkably similar mental mechanics, with differences far more subtle than expected. He attributed this to evolutionary theory and provided examples of how certain monsters had evolved over time, explaining what to expect from a bird-like monster's mind structure compared to, say, a mammalian monster. He mapped precisely which parts of their 'core' controlled the monsters' five senses and other functions; knowledge that, with some refining, could help modern mental magic to affect most monsters, a feat previously considered nearly impossible.

Even more puzzling was the research structure itself. The magician was clearly unfamiliar with terminology commonplace in Äußerst, yet he was undoubtedly learned. The meticulous way he presented theories, conducted specific tests to verify them, and described everything in detail was remarkable. He didn't just outline his own goals and trials, but explained how to reproduce it. He even provided criticism to some of his own theories and testing, citing what he couldn't test due to resource limitations and how others might proceed further.

Some of his ideas were not new, having been discovered long before him, mostly behavioral patterns of some monster species. But a significant portion was unknown to Schimmer and, as far as he could tell, completely novel.

Schimmer had never encountered anything quite like these journals. They practically guided the reader through research verification. The methodology was also interesting, the research journals held some of the older hypotheses the mage had, and how they were tossed aside due to the results of testing, and formed into new hypotheses which were tested and confirmed, which in turn morphed into theories.

Most mages simply searched for solutions that would make their intended spells function. Sometimes they tried multiple approaches toward that goal. Unedited research notes tended to be chaotic; messy ideas and tests, abundant guesswork, and little structure. Most referenced abstract concepts to explain their way of thinking and what logic they used when creating a spell, basically, a visualization aid. Few tried to truly dive deep into the nature of magic.

Schimmer could recall a few of course, but even they weren't written like this.

This wasn't the familiar chaos. This was something entirely different: organized, structured, and edited specifically for verification ease.

Developing such a system wasn't what one expected from a rural mage.

And the reason for such careful presentation...

"I suppose I must clarify this much: I do not submit my research for financial compensation, recognition, or fame. The truth is that I find myself trapped with my own theories and thoughts, isolated from other people and criticism. This is my attempt to challenge my biases and knowledge.

I do not know if I missed something monumental or basic in my studies, and I fear how harmful wrong assumptions can be. I share this not to proclaim new universal truths, but to find someone who can challenge my ideas and advance them beyond what I could accomplish.

I ask only that this research not be ignored, but given to someone who can make use of it."

It wasn't difficult for Schimmer to picture this mage's situation. The person was probably in his twilight years, living in an area with few or no competent mages; no one he could call a peer. As age crept in, he realized all this research, invaluable to him and him alone, would die with him unless he took drastic action.

So he chose to send it to Äußerst. Schimmer understood why. Most kingdoms had magical research organizations, but magic there served as a weapon of war. Some newer spells and studies inevitably became military secrets. Powerful magic meant power, so few shared their latest developments.

Äußerst was among the rare exceptions. The City of Magic, existing independently from any kingdom, was a known haven for magical practitioners and researchers. They were renowned for doing everything to advance magic. Having secrets wasn't frowned upon, but no one would stop someone from selling a new spell they developed.

The old man likely thought this was where his ideas and studies would find an heir.

Such a story touched something in Schimmer's heart.

"This likely won't be the last time I contact you. Unless I die, I will probably produce more results and theories in coming years. I know courier spells can be intercepted, so I've attached another book to the fifteen journals. This book contains a cipher and key that I'll use when sending future journals; the correct cipher will serve as my signature and verification. I ask you to write responses using the cipher, so I can confirm responses come from where my original research ended up.

I wish you the best in your magical pursuits, whatever they may be.

A."

It wasn't hard to deduce what the mage meant by 'response.' After delivering the parcel, the courier familiar remained in Äußerst; currently, the man-sized bird lived in Schimmer's own stable. It would deliver anything given to it back to its master, this 'A', and could survive on normal food until then.

The cipher proved more fascinating. Schimmer hadn't yet verified if it matched known ciphers, but if it was indeed original, judging by the complexity he'd observed, this mage wasn't simply dedicated but incredibly clever across multiple subjects.

This was also eccentric enough that Schimmer would expect from an old, powerful mage. Concern about message interception wasn't completely unfounded; the Northern Lands had their share of conflicts, not to mention the persistent demon problem, but still, an entire new cipher just to contact someone about magical research seemed excessive.

Still, the letter and research left Schimmer in a difficult position. While some journal contents proved useful to his studies, most were irrelevant to his work. Out of gratitude for the interesting concepts shared, he should probably direct these studies to someone who would find them more valuable.

That could prove challenging; he couldn't recall anyone from the top of his head more interested in monsters' internal heart structure than an accomplished mental mage like himself. There wasn't a shortage of mages who studied monsters to some degree, but few could directly make use of the fruits of the research similar to this one. Nor anyone qualified enough to understand and maybe verify the majority of this research.

The least he could do was bring these notes to his next colleagues' meeting in two weeks. Everything else aside, the research methodology was interesting enough to warrant some discussion.

As for the contents of the studies, at a minimum, Schimmer would spread this headache to other powerful mages in the city and make it everyone's problem.

 -----------

Author Note: Some further progression along Albert's path. Please do comment if you have anything to say. I had some fun writing this.

There would be a few more chapters like this. As some might have realized, this is basically an enhanced time-skip sequence that will span until I reach the era I need. You would have a glimpse of what Albert was doing and how he changed, just don't expect any story arcs that lasts longer than a chapter each. 

The next chapter will be much more dynamic though.