Chapter 4: Orphanage Director Subjugation Part 4

Magic words are words designated by a mage.

Therefore, one can create and use them freely.

That is a fact.

However, it also means that in order to create a new magical “language,” one must assign a new name to every single action.

Designating a word to replace the noun “fire” is easy.

But to distinguish between wanting the fire to “burn” and wanting it to “extinguish,” one must name two different verbs.

And if one wants the fire to burn for a “set duration” before going out, they must create words for units of time, as well as grammatical elements to indicate “conditions” and “termination.”

So, with the hastily improvised magic words I came up with, the best I could manage was simple and monotonous spells.

***

“Aaaahhh!!! G-Gaaahhh!!!”

Or so I thought.

“My hand! My haaaand!!!”

The flames that had bloomed in the punishment chamber wrapped around Doloria’s hand like vines.

Yet, no matter how desperately she slammed her hand against the walls and torture devices, the fire did not spread.

“You wretched bitch, Ellie!!!”

Realizing that her hand was beyond saving, Doloria bared her teeth and lunged at me.

If she sank those teeth into my throat, I would surely die.

Doloria wouldn’t stop until she tore through my flesh and reached my carotid artery.

But—

***

[Floor, shatter.]

CRACK!

Doloria’s massive body crashed forward with a loud thud.

“Kraaagh!!”

As she lifted her head, blood smeared across her face.

Her nose had been crushed against the floor, leaving it mangled and broken.

[Ropes, bind. Wardrobe, open.]

The ropes, which had absorbed the blood of countless children, floated into the air and coiled tightly around Doloria’s limbs.

The wardrobe, which had instilled claustrophobia in so many children, swung open wide.

“What the hell!! What the fuck is this?!”

The monster who once ruled this room screamed—not in fury or hatred, but in sheer disbelief.

“When did you learn magic words?!”

“I never learned them.”

[The ropes will bind what they capture, throw it into the wardrobe, and shut the door.]

“Don’t give me that bullshit, you little shit!!!”

Doloria’s reaction was only natural.

Anyone who heard what I was saying would recognize that I wasn’t merely stringing words together—I was speaking a fully-formed language.

‘This isn’t something an ordinary person could do.’

Unless they had a hobby of creating languages.

Or unless they were someone who already knew multiple languages and simply decided to turn one of them into a magical language.

The first case was understandable.

But the second had a critical flaw.

If you turned an existing language into a magical language, communicating in that language would become nearly impossible.

Magic words are languages where every word and grammatical element is inscribed with a mage’s mana.

If you asked a friend for water, the water might pour itself onto you.

If you said the wind was cold, a whirlwind might form around you.

Thus, while it was possible to turn a natural language into a magic language, it was something that should never be done.

However—

I had one.

A natural language, yet one that no one in this world would ever use for communication.

A language I could wield as fluently as my mother tongue.

Because it was my first mother tongue.

***

[At my signal, stop and freeze.]

It was called Korean.

[Burn to ash, then vanish.]

Brilliant white light flared from my pale hair.

“Ellie!!! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!! Please, just spare my life!! If you let me live, I’ll atone for the rest of my days!!”

Even though Doloria wasn’t a mage, she could feel the mana gathering at my fingertips.

Or maybe the pressure in my gaze and the searing pain in her burnt hand had finally overwhelmed her rage, replacing it with sheer terror.

She wailed and pleaded.

“Please, just let me live! I swear, I’ll live righteously from now on! All the wealth I’ve hoarded—I’ll give it all to you! To you and the others—no, just to you! So please, just my life—”

“Doloria.”

The condensed white mana in my hand took the shape of a dagger.

“In this room, how many children have begged you for their lives like this?”

“T-That’s—”

Her pale, clouded eyes darted wildly.

I could see it.

I could see her counting.

I could see her calculating which number might be low enough to make me spare her.

And it disgusted me.

“Enough.”

I don’t deny the possibility that even the worst people can change for the better.

But there are limits.

And this monster had long since crossed every line.

“I will deliver judgment.”

White, blade-like mana shards floated in the air.

“A-ah… Aaaah!!”

The shards touched.

The door shut tightly.

“Aaah…!!”

And then—snap.

Ignition.

“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”

The scream did not last long.

But—

The flames flickering through the crack of the door burned blue.

Doloria was enormous, but taking her life did not take long.

In the first place, her lungs and airway would have burned away before anything else.

“Hoo.”

Blue flames illuminated the dimly lit punishment chamber.

If it were up to me, I would have burned this entire room—no, the whole orphanage—down.

‘But I can’t.’

I needed evidence.

This world had courts, too.

Even if I couldn’t expect a fully modern judicial system, Doloria’s child abuse and murders were undoubtedly crimes.

However, if there was even the slightest chance that someone powerful was backing Doloria or connected to her—and if that person bore a grudge against me for killing her—

Expecting justice to flow in a purely righteous direction would be naïve.

So, I couldn’t destroy the evidence with my own hands.

‘I know at least a little about how dirty the world can be.’

Eventually, the fire consumed everything it could and extinguished itself.

In the dim room, my eyes landed on an object.

A mirror.

It had originally been something Doloria used for her own twisted amusement.

‘…That.’

It took me a moment to recognize the girl standing inside it.

‘L+?’

There was only one mirror in this orphanage—here and in Doloria’s private room.

That meant I hardly ever saw my own face.

Even after reincarnating, I had never had the chance.

So, of course, my own face felt somewhat unfamiliar.

But—

That wasn’t all.

The girl in the mirror—

I had to question whether my eyes were seeing correctly.

‘…Beautiful.’

She was stunning.

Her long hair, reaching down to her waist, shimmered like it was dusted with stardust, turning it into a flowing galaxy.

Her body, standing at the boundary between childhood and adulthood, was as fresh as a budding flower just beginning to bloom.

And her eyes—

They were blue, and within them, stars twinkled.

Like the brightest, most dazzling stars among countless others.

The most beautiful, the most radiant.

‘That’s… me?’

Looking closer, her features were slightly different.

I once saw a TV program at my old orphanage—no, my old foster home—comparing faces before and after plastic surgery.

At the time, I had wondered:

—’They changed just a little?’

Shifting the eyes slightly upward, downward, or sideways.

Adjusting the angle of the nose by a fraction.

Pulling the chin back just a little.

With only those minor changes, the difference in appearance, once fully healed, was—

—Wow.

I realized then how much a person’s face could change with just a few small adjustments.

My features were like that now.

A slight shift in my eyes, nose, lips—just that.

Yet my once plain but cute face had transformed into something so beautiful that even I, looking at myself in the mirror, felt stunned.

‘Could it be?’

I turned off the circuit that connected me to the world and converted ether into mana.

And then, I returned.

My hair darkened into plain black.

The stars vanished from my eyes, leaving them an ordinary brown.

And my face—

‘Somehow… it looks a bit less pretty.’

My eyes, nose, and lips all shifted slightly—in the opposite direction from before.

Hmm.

It couldn’t be helped.

Thinking about it rationally, being overwhelmingly beautiful wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

‘If I planned to hide my identity, being just a little above average was much better.’

‘It’s not like being pretty is always a good thing, anyway.’

Footsteps echoed as people ascended the stairs.

“Hoo…”

I took a deep breath, reorganizing my thoughts on how to explain the situation.

Then, I moved.

I had planned to wait until they entered first, but I changed my mind.

I opened the door myself.

Bright sunlight tickled my face.

My darkened hair.

My ordinary appearance.

I met the eyes of those who had been quietly climbing the stairs—staff members of the orphanage, children, and—

‘Who is that woman?’

There was someone unfamiliar.

But it didn’t matter.

One day, I would have to speak before tens of thousands of strangers anyway.

“Everyone.”

Thinking of it as practice—or the first real test—I smiled.

Without shame, without awkwardness.

With confidence.

“I’ve killed the monster. You can rest easy now.”

***

A letter arrived urgently at the academy’s headmaster’s office.

The headmaster read it and immediately summoned all available professors to disclose its contents.

The conference room fell into chaos.

Because the letter, which had arrived by the fastest possible means, contained only a single, short sentence.

[Discovered—A genius.]

But before the uproar could settle, a second letter arrived in the same manner.

The seal was broken before the professors.

Blood stained the paper.

And on it, these words were written:

[Currently under protec■on.]

One professor held up the paper and deciphered the obscured letter.

Its full message was—

“‘Under… protection?'”