Chapter Forty-Eight: Magic

Just as he had during his street performance moments ago, Harold picked up his seven-inch wand with two fingers and began to play magic tricks with his magician’s box. Inside the box was all of Blackhorn Alley, and the magician’s spells descended like rain from the heavens.

At first, these spells were mere parlor tricks, restricting the body in small ways—appetizers to whet the audience’s appetite. But after only a few spells, his magic began to change, becoming ever more peculiar. Stranger still, each time the magician cast a spell, all the spells he had previously conjured would reappear!

Watching this uncanny magic, Sakura Bell widened her eyes, suddenly recalling something her aunt had once said. Reappearance—this was a technique invented by Harold himself. Some called it a highly advanced “duplication charm,” which allowed the magician to cleverly replay every spell he had ever chanted. Others said it was an art of temporal recursion, enabling the magician to consume only a little magic power and have every spell he cast within a given time reappear once more.

Yet no matter the theory, to this day, no wizard had deciphered Harold’s “reappearance.”

In the span of a single cup of tea, the magic inside the box had become overwhelming, and with each spell Harold released, the magic inside multiplied, boundless and inexhaustible.

The battle quickly reached a fever pitch, but peculiarly, not a single spell seemed to strike the Faceless One. Harold and Sakura Bell gaped in astonishment—it was as if the legend were true, as if the Faceless One simply did not exist!

But before long, they noticed the Faceless One no longer stood still. He began to dodge the spells, flitting about or shifting in a blur of apparitions.

It must be that the Faceless One’s protective spells could no longer withstand so many magical assaults; after all, the magic in the box now numbered over a hundred.

Yet to Sakura Bell’s disbelief, as the Faceless One began to evade, not a single spell could catch him. Each was skillfully avoided.

Sakura Bell watched the unfolding spectacle within the magician’s box, a sense of wonder overtaking her. Inside the box, it was as though a hundred wizards were hunting the Faceless One, but he escaped them with ease, as if accustomed to being pursued by a hundred—or perhaps ten thousand—wizards.

The magician’s gaze grew more solemn. The spells darting about the box flickered like fireworks. Above Blackhorn Alley, illusory sparks shimmered in the sky, prompting many perplexed passersby to look up and applaud, but this time, the magician was no longer as composed and confident as before.

The Faceless One inside the box was actually learning his magic!

Moreover, the Faceless One continued to “reappear” various spells, as if practicing the technique.

Harold could hardly believe it!

Not only was the Faceless One evading his magic, he was learning from it—Harold felt humiliated.

Suddenly, the magician picked up a drape from the stage and, with a graceful sweep, covered the box. When he whisked it away, six floating crystals appeared, orbiting the box, and the once empty Blackhorn Alley was now teeming with puppet wizards.

The puppet wizards stepped into every street and alley, following the magician’s command, chanting spells. In an instant, hundreds and thousands of spells soared into the sky, multiplying ceaselessly.

Sakura Bell’s heart tightened at the sight. The puppets inside the box, supported by the crystal array, possessed endless magic power. Each puppet was enchanted during its creation, able to withstand certain spells, making them difficult to destroy.

Perhaps the Faceless One recognized the puppets’ strength and did not waste time destroying them, instead focusing solely on dodging—almost as if he were playing.

Sakura Bell shook her head, dismissing the absurd thought—there were thousands of spells inside the box now; surely this was no game.

Yet the Faceless One seemed to have grown wiser. From his robe flew several... Wait!

Sakura Bell blinked hard—she saw thousands upon thousands of spells emerge from the Faceless One’s robe! All of them were Harold’s magic! Moreover, the Faceless One kept reappearing these spells!

In the blink of an eye, the Faceless One’s spells within the magician’s box surpassed Harold’s own by several times!

At that moment, Sakura Bell’s eyes widened as she watched the overwhelming mass of spells soar toward the sky, intertwining with the magician’s magic above.

Harold’s mind reeled; his monocle nearly fell, but he quickly raised his hand in a sweeping gesture. Instantly, all spells belonging to the Faceless One transformed into flowers!

In the world of Blackhorn Alley inside the magician’s box, black rose petals floated down from the sky, breathtaking in their beauty.

The Faceless One was stunned by the roses in the sky!

This was no illusion, but true transformation!

Sakura Bell widened her eyes—this was “Card Magic”!

Legend told that Lord Harold could transfigure anything, and had once turned a curse afflicting someone into a playing card, drawing it from behind their ear. Then, he transformed that card into a dove and set it free!

“Remarkable! Extraordinary!” The Faceless One couldn’t help but applaud.

The magician bowed slightly to accept the praise, though he dabbed at his brow with a handkerchief, as if the feat had taxed him.

Harold had yet to recover, for the spells the Faceless One had just unleashed were all his own magic—yet stronger!

Never before had he witnessed such powerful magic. His “magic trick” had barely managed to transform the Faceless One’s spells, requiring him to mobilize the box’s crystal array!

Rumor had it the Faceless One possessed a black serpent magic—could it be even more potent than his own?

But it was over now; no matter how strong an individual, he could not overcome a secret realm!

The magician waved his wand again, reappearing his spells. In an instant, tens of thousands of spells flooded the box, soaring toward the Faceless One.

But at once, the magician’s glasses fell off in shock!

He saw the Faceless One raise his hand toward the mass of spells in the sky, just as he had, and all those spells transformed into playing cards!

Suddenly, a rain of cards fell from the heavens!

At this moment, Sakura Bell, watching from her cage, felt a dizzy spell—this was not a battle for wizards of her level to engage in!

“I underestimated you, Faceless One.” Harold’s complexion paled, still dizzy from the previous spectacle, his mouth dry: “You actually uncovered the secret of my ‘reappearance.’”

“Yes, sir, the reappearance is fascinating, but it has a minor flaw.” The Faceless One nodded, taking on a didactic tone: “These reappeared spells, though each seems to retain its magical power, in truth they are merely copies. If you deal with the original spell, all subsequent ones are neutralized.”

Hearing this, Harold felt numb. Many could see the flaw, but only one had ever immediately identified the “original spell”—the Witch Queen.

On that occasion, she had pulled him into her mirror world—the Magic Mirror, omniscient and omnipotent. She had cheated.

But this man had seen through the secret with his own learning.

“As for ‘Card Magic,’ this is a recreation of transfiguration...” The Faceless One shook his head, saying, “I must admit, your creativity and imagination have truly inspired me. I believe, now, I should be able to...”

As he spoke, a red wand flew from his sleeve, transforming instantly into a flaming phoenix that soared skyward.

In a blink, the sky was ablaze as if covered in fiery clouds; the playing cards were swept away, replaced by a rain of fire.

When the playing cards burned away, their ashes reverted to spells, all converging onto the phoenix.

The spells exploded in the sky, becoming countless fireworks! Yet the phoenix was immune to them all!

This was a true phoenix!

Sakura Bell stared, dumbfounded, as Harold, deeply shaken, gaped, unable to recover.

Under the Faceless One’s control, the phoenix burned out, the ashes finally becoming a wand, returning to his hand.

“No, no.” The Faceless One shook his head, smacked his lips, glanced at the sky where the “godlike, majestic” fat face hovered, and said with embarrassment, “There was no rebirth—still not worthy of being ashes of the Elder.”

Harold exploded.

Could he possibly show off any more?

That was too much!

[Thanks to your efforts, Harold’s anger has reached its peak; he’s about to bring out a treasure he’s never shown anyone.]

‘So there are more wonders hidden in this magician’s box!’ Louis called to the sky with enthusiasm, “Mr. Harold, let me see your circus—You’ve granted your puppetry life and soul, that’s truly fascinating!”

Louis was excited; now, his phoenix lacked only soul and life!

Harold’s Dark Moon Circus would surely provide inspiration.

The magician’s pupils contracted—how had he seen the circus? It was in another secret realm!

The magician realized—this man must have learned of the circus from someone else, and was certainly not an agent of the Ministry of Magic.

For Ministry agents had never seen his circus.

Agents... those fools who can’t even perform a trick, yet act as though they’re superior? They’re unworthy to “visit” my circus.

Not even fit to be puppets.

To treat the Faceless One as an agent was an insult.

He knew who had sent the Faceless One—the Hexagonal Prison.

For the “Lantern-Bearing Thousand-Faced Death” Polster had witnessed this magic.

“Remarkable that Hexagonal Prison has produced such a formidable warden.”

With that, Magician Harold bowed, set aside his wand, and revealed his true skill.

“Forgive my rudeness!”

...