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“What? Th-…”

The man reflexively replied to Jinseong’s words, but before the phrase ‘What kind of nonsense is that?’ could escape his lips, he successfully swallowed it back down through sheer effort.

Isn’t it as if he’s been hit right on the mark with such words?

He concealed his intense reaction that almost slipped out and instead spoke in what seemed to be a calm, incredulous tone.

“…What do you mean by that?”

He said it as if questioning whether something was wrong when he had nothing like that in his body.

He feigned a laugh, making a forced grin to reinforce his statement, mocking in appearance.

However, all of the man’s efforts were of no use.

To Jinseong, the man’s act was utterly clumsy, and even if the performance had been flawless, what Jinseong had discovered in the man’s body was undoubtedly magic.

“It won’t do any good responding like that. I’m not trying to test you, and I don’t lack certainty; I’m just lacking evidence. I saw the curse script engraved on your body and the ring-shaped divine object stuck in your rib.”

I already know everything, and whatever you say won’t change that.

All your attempts to deceive me will be in vain.

Jinseong expressed the truth matter-of-factly, as if pronouncing a sentence.

“But even if I say this, you won’t believe it. Telling a person in crisis that their lifeline is frayed and useless is something hard to accept, much like saying the flare in their pocket has become unusable. The very belief in rescue is muddled with hope that leads to poor judgment. I will prove it to you myself.”

Saying this, Jinseong slowly opened his mouth.

“Ah-”

He produced a sound that vibrated his vocal cords while getting up.

He then raised his hand as if he were slashing his belly vertically.

“Ah-”

“Ah-”

What occurred next was astonishing.

It began to sound as if Jinseong had two mouths; the sound flowed out from both his head and his belly simultaneously.

The vibrations matched perfectly, resonating together as if they were approaching a singular melody that echoed underground.

As the tones harmonized adequately, incantations began to flow from Jinseong’s mouth.

“For the sake of this promise—–”

And as if echoing the sound from his head, a deep and heavy voice flowed from his belly.

“Bi—smilla.”

The incantation from his belly felt like a blend of sound and vibration.

The tremendous sound caused a rumble as if amplifiers were vibrating, sending shocks that rattled and stirred everything underground.

“For everything about my promise-”

“Bi-smilla.”

Thus began the true incantation.

“I lie down, and I rise.”

“Bi-ss—-m-lla.”

“I embark on a journey—-”

“Bi-smilla.”

The grand incantation flowed out like majestic music, abruptly cutting off at the end, and shortly thereafter, the mouths at his head and belly echoed sounds simultaneously.

“Alif Lam Mim.”

“Alif Lam Mim.”

Jinseong uttered sounds in a prayer-like manner with both his head and belly, slowly turning his gaze toward the man.

He then began to speak majestically and solemnly, as if reciting a scripture.

“One day, Allah will say to the infidels, ‘You and your messengers shall stand there.’ Thus God shall separate between them, at which the messenger will say this.”

“What you worshipped was not us.”

Jinseong was employing Abrahamic magic at that moment.

More specifically, it was Islamic magic.

Yet, this was not the typical Islamic magic.

Islam holds Arabic in high regard, believing that any recitation of the Quran outside of Arabic is invalid. Naturally, the Quran cannot be recorded in any other language, and only the Arabic version is deemed complete and perfect.

Due to the characteristics of Islam, its magic must be spoken solely in Arabic; anything else is deemed normal. Magic spoken in a language other than Arabic is treated as Bid’at or superstitious heresy, sometimes even labeled as kafir (infidel).

The magic Jinseong was performing was regarded by Islamic holy sorcerers as originating from superstitions (Bid’at). Though rooted in Islam, it could only manifest its power when spoken in a language other than Arabic.

Before his return, it had been magic found in Kazakhstan.

The ability of this magic was simple yet effective.

To interfere with the use of divine objects triggered through blood.

“Indeed, we did not say to the unbelievers that you should worship us.”

And the divine object, hindered by this magic, would react upon the recitation of specific verses from the Quran.

As if fearing the great God, Allah, as described in Islam.

“This, this is….”

The man panicked as he heard the voice emerge from his rib.

The voice was emanating precisely from the spot where the divine object was located, and the vibrations of articulation through the rib felt vivid. Moreover, the voice sounded just like the man’s own….

“This makes no sense.”

The man muttered, seemingly denying reality.

However, muttering wouldn’t change the facts.

No matter how much he denied it, he was trapped, with all his tracking devices either destroyed or confiscated, and the divine objects he possessed were neutralized by the magic.

“This kind of magic, I’ve never heard of it…! This is, this is evil magic! You filthy necromancer—–!”

“That would be right. Just like a star shimmering upon the surface of the water, it briefly flashed, while the holy sorcerers quickly devised strategies and completely countered it, allowing it to fade away into history.”

Interfering with divine objects triggered by blood was akin to targeting holy sorcerers directly.

There were no sorcerers as skilled in handling blood as holy sorcerers.

Consequently, when they encountered this magic once, holy sorcerers applied all their might to study it.

They dissected every word and ritual with meticulous effort while tirelessly working against it. This ‘effort’ was not merely that of individual holy sorcerers; it was a collective endeavor of the vast groups known as Christianity, Islam, and Judaism, with assistance from countless believers.

Thanks to the power of such a significant force, a counter method swiftly arose, followed by preventive measures and solutions. Consequently, the value of this magic was completely diminished, fading quietly into history.

“Even now, this magic is ineffective against what a holy sorcerer creates. They are individuals who walk the path of magic, bound by their religion and continuously recording and maintaining contact.”

Yes.

This magic will not affect a divine object created by a holy sorcerer.

Unless it’s created by a holy sorcerer, that is.

But what if it isn’t made by a holy sorcerer?

What if it wasn’t influenced by Abrahamic religions?

“But you see, you are not a holy sorcerer, are you?”

In addition, what if it belonged to someone who, like a frog in a well, hadn’t even thought of developing into something superior, nor engaged in any interaction, research, or advancement?

Naturally, this could become a horrific calamity.

Just as smallpox was a terrible disaster for native people without any immunities, this magic could similarly turn into a horrific calamity against divine objects triggered by blood, devoid of a countermeasure.

But who could be blamed?

Wouldn’t they resent being isolated like the Galapagos, lacking interaction, research, or development?

The man’s complexion turned pale as Jinseong explained.

Anxiously, his eyes darted around, and he rolled them as if searching for something. Then, appearing to recall something, he bit his lip tightly and finally shouted decisively.

“Kill me!”

He declared resolutely.

“It’ll be of no use no matter what you do! Kill me!”

He shouted as if prepared for death.

Fearful of the approaching demise, he trembled, staring intensely at where Jinseong stood, his jaw and lips quivering, clenched so hard that blood trickled down. He seemed to breathe heavily and irregularly, yet with determination, showcasing a resilience as if he could endure any pain.

Jinseong looked at the man, who seemed ready to meet his fate, with a hint of curiosity.

“Why would I kill you?”

“Ah, torture, will you? Whatever you do won’t work! You won’t get the information you want!”

The man shouted with all his might in response to Jinseong’s words.

“I won’t betray my companions! And even if I die here, my comrades, my seniors will surely find you and punish you horribly!”

Jinseong slowly shook his head at the man’s words.

“Look here. I have no intention of torturing or killing you.”

“Stop the nonsense!”

The man didn’t believe Jinseong’s words.

What other reason could there be for his abduction?

It was as if Jinseong could read the man’s thoughts.

“I’m merely hoping for a chat, so there’s no need to worry.”

He turned his gaze as if looking off into the distance, softly muttering into the empty air.

As if speaking to himself.

“We have quite some time, so let’s discuss our pride (superbia) and Aṭṭhaka vaggo.”

 

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