Chapter 61: The Weight of a Whispered Name

Even for one who waged endless battle, slaying aberrants with ruthless efficiency, there were always moments of respite—during long marches, around the campfire, or while setting up camp under the stars.

And Lilia, never one to let silence linger, filled those gaps with chatter. Her voice had a way of weaving between moments, bright and insistent, and it was during one such conversation that Curtis  had first heard the name Brutaine.

“Wasn’t there someone—Kain? Kane?—who once tried to join Lady Lilia’s commission?”

“You just said Kane! Wait, what do you mean ‘heard’?”

“I recall hearing the name in conversation.”

“From whom?”

“Who else but Lady Lilia herself? It was her commission, after all.”

“…What did she say?”

At the mention of Lilia’s name, Kane’s indignant tone faltered—just as Bishop Mayra had warned. There had been many who used the pretext of training to get close to her.
Now, Curtis  realized, one of them stood before him.

He allowed himself a dry smile.

“She said that, among the mages she’d worked with, you had the best pedigree and magical talent.”

“…And?”

“That’s all.”

“All…? That’s it?”

Of course, it wasn’t. Curtis  had omitted the rest.

What Lilia had actually said was: “Best pedigree, best talent… and yet, no different from the rest.”
She had said this before meeting Curtis —so that comparison had excluded him.

But since it hadn’t been meant kindly, Curtis  had chosen not to repeat it out of politeness. Judging from Kane’s twitching expression, it hadn’t helped much.

“I was speaking with Lady Lilia before you arrived,” Kane said sharply.

“So I gathered.”

“I asked about her recent endeavors. She spoke only of you.”

“Well, naturally. We’ve worked together for two months. Who else is she supposed to talk about?”

“You arrogant bastard! You think a bit of time spent with her makes you something special?!”

“I simply stated the truth.”

Kane seethed, but Curtis  remained utterly unbothered.

Sure, it could be maddening when the woman you liked wouldn’t stop talking about someone else.
But no one had forced Kane to accept the commission. If he’d approached Lilia just to impress her, he should have had the guts to stick it out.

And why was he treating Curtis  like some interloper who had stolen his lover in secret?
Lilia wasn’t his lover, and Curtis  hadn’t “stolen” anyone. Kane’s imagined love triangle was his own fever dream—and he was dragging it into reality, fists first.

Still, absurd as the situation was…

Curtis  didn’t mind. In fact, he was a little grateful.

“Ah—since we’re here, mind if I ask something?” he said, feigning casual interest. “There was one more thing Lady Lilia mentioned.”

“…What now?”

“She said you cast magic while calling out your spell names aloud.”

So this was the one.

The very “noble-born mage” Lilia had referred to—the one who trained and fought while loudly declaring the names of his spells—was none other than Kane Brutaine.

“Once a mage reaches the Silver tier, they unlock Cognitive Acceleration, yes?” Curtis  continued smoothly. “I was just wondering… doesn’t shouting spell names get difficult in the middle of a real battle?”

For clerics, it was easy to gauge rank—their miracles were tiered and defined. But warriors and mages were trickier.

Still, there existed a threshold—a wall of insight and intuition—that marked a true advance. Time spent in training did not guarantee passage.
Many spent decades knocking at the gate. Few crossed it.

Curtis , for his part, had leveled up swiftly and passed through the wall with ease. He owed that to his status window, of course.

For mages, the wall between Bronze and Silver was Cognitive Acceleration—the ability to heighten thought to such speeds that the world itself seemed to slow.

Without it, a mage couldn’t even keep up with Silver-ranked warriors, let alone land a spell on a swift aberrant.

Curtis  had used this instinctively since reaching level 30 in Water Manipulation. It left him fatigued after casting—but it made him fast. Accurate. Deadly.

But while thought accelerated, speech did not.

By the time he’d mentally formed and prepared a Spirit Shell, his tongue would still be halfway through pronouncing the word “su.” In real battle, calling out spell names was… unnecessary flair at best.

And yet, here stood a man who did exactly that.

Curtis , genuinely curious, had asked in earnest.

But Kane—already bristling—was in no mood for civil discussion.

“What the hell do you care how I cast my spells?!”

“No reason. I was just curious.”

“Curious? Want to know why? Huh?!”

“So long as it’s not just to look flashy, I’m listening.”

“Because I can imbue my spells with emotion, you bastard!”

Kane snapped.

“Triple Blooming Fire!”

The moment the words left his mouth, Curtis  felt the world slow.

It was that same creeping sensation—displacement. A shift in pressure.
On the border of his collarbone and shoulder, the air trembled. The temperature rose, steam hissing as moisture was pushed back.

Not natural. Not by chance.
Magic.

Curtis  raised his left hand. Even within the slowed flow of time, his motion was deliberate, fluid.

The spirit at his wrist uncoiled. The enchanted bracelet reshaped itself into a gauntlet.
Water moved faster than flesh—and faster than fire.

Fwoosh!

Flames bloomed in the air. One. Two. Three.
Born from nothing, they hungrily devoured the surrounding oxygen.

Curtis  clenched his left hand.

The spirit surged. Water wrapped around the infant flames, snuffing them like candles before they could grow.

Hiss—!

And just like that, it was over. The spell had been crushed before it could even roar.

His palm stung—a price paid in heat, not harm.

“Hmm…”

Curtis  narrowed his eyes slightly. His lips curled into a faint, satisfied smile.

[ Phantom Blaze ]
[ Acquisition Progress: 1% ]

And just like that, he understood why he was grateful.

Sure—he had come to the Eastern Frontier for the sake of leveling up, to slaughter aberrants until he grew strong enough to stand among legends.

But he had also come for something else: to encounter other mages.
To learn. To observe. To steal.

And with so many mercenaries came just as many spells.