Magician in Type-Moon

Page 464

Isilid responded with a complex expression:

"His observation skills are really sharp. No wonder he's the most popular magician lately."

"I'm just compiling what you've said."

Matouike continued her deduction calmly:

"You said that the founder of the Morgan Fails family only pacified the surrounding lands. If that's the case, then Kitz's plan was already in the works back then."

He looked at Kiz and said bluntly:

“Kiz, you intend to use Monaco’s land someday.”

“Although the style of the ship banquet in Fim was not fully established until much later, you bet this ritual will be preserved.”

"What exactly is the purpose of this bet you set up?"

"Hmm, heh, heh."

Kiz’s distinctive laughter echoed through the round table room.

"Sigh, that's how it is."

"Of course, relying solely on the initial land consolidation will gradually lead to deviations, so I come here from time to time to make adjustments."

He spoke of it casually, as if he were discussing a game of chess that he had casually laid out.

Then, he looked at Isilid, a slight smile playing on his lips.

“However, I still have questions, Isilid.”

Why are you getting in my way?

"The news I brought isn't bad for you, is it?"

Silence.

Isilid remained silent for a few seconds, his lowered eyelashes trembling slightly, before he slowly spoke.

"You weren't looking at me."

"……what?"

Kiz paused for a moment, tilting his head as if he didn't understand.

This was probably the first time he had seen this person, who claimed to be a descendant, make such an expression.

"The Morgan family, whom you abandoned, has continued to delve into research."

"The second generation created the magic seal, and the descendants cultivated the content of the seal. As magicians who were only given talents, they established their own direction and trained all the way to this day."

His voice was low, yet it carried a deep, unforgettable anger.

The magicians in the room instantly understood its meaning.

Ancient magic lineages always carry a certain mission.

They may be a continuation of some great experiment, or they may be descendants of those who seek the roots of magic.

But what if the situation is the opposite?

What if a family is not given any mission, but possesses special land and a rare talent for magicians?

Isilid raised his head slightly, his tone chillingly calm.

"When you visit Morgan Fails’ home centuries later, all you say is that you want to use the land."

"I didn't even say 'don't bother me,' let alone ask for your help."

"If you give any orders, my father, my ancestors, and I would be happy to lick your shoes, wouldn't we?"

“We have managed that land for two thousand years without any agreement with anyone.”

"And you, you don't even glance at us."

—A deathly silence.

Kiz showed no anger or sarcasm, but simply tilted his head again as if he didn't understand.

"what does that mean?"

His expression could even be described as innocent.

But at that moment, Matouike felt a sense of absurd boredom.

boring.

absurd.

He understood Isilid's feelings.

Magicians value their disciples and their families.

Because the transmission of magic is based on the connections between people.

And Kiz’s actions—the things he “didn’t do”—are the most thorough negation.

He didn't think the Morgan family was worthless, but rather that they lacked even the will to measure their value.

They're even stingy with comments like "not worth it."

What's even more frightening is that he doesn't even try to hide it.

"Oh dear, this is really a headache."

Isilid, on the contrary, revealed a cheerful smile.

It was as if something hidden had finally been revealed, and he had finally regained his composure.

Who can understand the feelings of someone who has gained nothing?

"So, you want to disrupt Kiz's spell?"

Matou Ike slowly opened his mouth.

Isilid shrugged and laughed self-deprecatingly:

"Jealousy, resentment, prejudice, that's the kind of feeling it is."

"In other words, I am jealous of my ancestors."

“Because our ancestors didn’t take good care of us, I want to use that as a reason to kill them.”

"I want to destroy everything this guy has been planning for over two thousand years."

As he said this, he looked up at the ceiling.

The crystal chandelier reflected countless figures of Isilid.

Each of them wore the same look of exhaustion.

“But even if Kiz is killed, the spell is still in operation.”

"No matter how little we are valued, we still share the same blood, right?"

His tone carried a hint of sarcasm.

“I learned that Kiz’s magic has been pulsating within this Mok ship.”

"That would certainly make me struggle desperately."

"He was so jealous that he killed the First Hokage, but he couldn't even disrupt the spell."

"Does that mean the Morgan Fails family is truly meaningless?"

—The moment those words were spoken, everyone in the room felt a chill.

Kiz's magic remains a mystery to this day.

But one thing is certain—it took advantage of Fim's boat banquet.

Isilid took a deep breath, as if he had finally shed all pretense.

"Since that's the case," I thought to myself—

"If we win this banquet on the ship, we can interfere."

He risked his life.

To achieve this goal, we will do everything in our power and spare no expense.

That's why she stepped into Matouike's almost naive trap without any precautions.

Perhaps this is the last chance to stop the Kiz spell from working.

Therefore, even though the trap was so blatantly disgusting, Isilid had no choice.

——Snap, snap.

The crisp applause echoed in the room, like gold coins tossed about carelessly, flippant and ironic.

All eyes immediately turned to that direction.

The source of the applause – Kiz.

He looked relaxed, like an audience member enjoying a stage play, with a faint smile on his lips.

"What a touching scene."

His voice was warm and gentle, carrying a kind of tenderness that could mislead people.

"Yes, I feel a surge of emotion that goes straight to my chest."

"I simply cannot fully understand modern magicians."

"But shouldn't the human psyche have been the same in the mythological era as well?"

Kiz slowly surveyed the crowd, his eyes filled with a kind of inquisitive, almost playful gaze.

Even words of hatred, spoken from his exquisitely sculpted face, still sounded pleasant.

In contrast—

“I’ve also realized something, Kiz.”

Matou Ike's voice suddenly turned cold, and his eyes were as sharp as knives.

Kiz raised an eyebrow slightly, as if he had heard something interesting, and looked at him with great interest.