Read The Frontier Alchemist ~ I Can’t Go Back to That Job After You Made My Budget Zero

202 - - The magician's joke!?

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"Ew. . Pssst. I'm in a bad way. Where am I? We were enjoying our tea in a very special seat, and now we are being treated like this. I feel as if I had been abandoned by God.

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　The sorcerer slowly raises himself up, his fingers as thin as spider's legs.

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　When I saw him before, he was an apparition. But now I am sure it is the main body.

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　The hood that was raised when he was ejected from the core. The face beneath it is revealed as he stands up.

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　Compared to his spider-like hands, it was the face of an ordinary, featureless man who could be found anywhere. Only his face is that of an ordinary human being.

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"Are you a demon?

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　I ask the sorcerer, while preparing to "deploy" the scrolls that I had secretly planted on the ground when I was moving around the Unknown earlier.

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"Demons! Not like those delightful, caring people. Oh no, I'm just one man. Well, I think I've said this to an alchemist before. That's right. Master Riharzam, right? That failure. He was a disappointment. He was just a small boy with an inferiority complex and jealousy of the younger, better ones. I would have felt better if he had exploded more negative emotions, gained power, and became a demon king. And yes, yes, he asked me that when he was still human. What is it? Alchemists ask the same kind of questions, don't they?

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　The sorcerer slowly opens and closes his fingers, talking nonsense and blah, blah, blah.

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　A pitch-black curse overflows from the tips of his fingers.

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　I give up trying to make sense out of it.

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"Combined Expansion, Combined..."

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　The scrolls that had been set up around the magician float up one after another, and open one after another.

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"Not yet. I can't finish. I'd like to end it as soon as possible. It's all so causal. Really, really..."

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　The sorcerer holds his hands high.

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I won't let you! All scrolls are deployed.

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"Continuous manifestation, Rose! "The Vine, Potion."

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　Rose vines, with potions adhering to their surfaces, overflow from the countless scrolls surrounding them.

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　The ivy is colored with the golden light of potions.

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　I wave my arm, motioning to the Rose.

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　As instructed, the ivy slithers out and wraps itself around the conjurer's hands. The curses that were about to form in the sorcerer's hands break apart and disappear in the golden light of the potion.

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　The sorcerer sees this and opens his mouth.

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　From behind him, there is a glimpse of something black. I wave my arm again.

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　But just before it emerges, a rose vine wraps around the lower half of its face and tightens around it.

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　For a moment, the sorcerer's eyes widen in surprise.

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　But then he seems to grin.

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　Black curses are born from his body, one after another, one after another, one after another.

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　They are counteracted by potions, but they do not stop.

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　Finally, the film of potions on Rose's ivy begins to peel off.

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　I throw in all the remaining ivy that is not yet wrapped around Rose.

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　The sorceress becomes a ball of ivy coiled all over her body. But the sorcerer does not stop. Black curses start leaking out from the gaps of the balled up ivy.

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　It was then. A figure rushes to the ball of ivy. It was Taura, sword at the ready.

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