I Was Mistaken as a Genius Mage in a Game

Bell set the soup, which had been placed on his lap, down on the ground and left the place with the two people as if he were being chased by something.

The disgust churned in his stomach, and it felt like something was about to spill from his mouth at any moment.

Bell walked quickly and hid himself in the forest behind the barracks, filled with decaying trees.

The boy looked at Bell, who suddenly stood up from his seat, with a puzzled expression.

Grisha, seeing the boy's confusion, quietly told him to understand Bell.

"Ughhh!"

Bell, hidden behind the decayed trees, urgently vomited everything that had been rising from his stomach.

Having eaten nothing for over thirty hours, his vomit was completely transparent. The pure stomach acid made his throat sting terribly.

"Sigh, spit."

Bell spat a few more times to clear his mouth.

He couldn’t even understand why the vomit had suddenly surged up from his stomach.

"......This is absurd."

Bell’s left arm began to tremble from the sharp pain.

It hurt.

It was sharp, hot, and cold at the same time.

Bell, after a long time, lifted his robe and looked at the blood flowing from his arm.

He couldn’t understand why this pain, which he had forgotten for a while, had returned so suddenly.

"Sigh."

A sigh.

Followed by a hollow laugh that immediately followed.

Bell laughed for so long, wondering if he had lost his mind.

After laughing like a madman for a while, Bell managed to pull himself together and return to the campfire, stepping out from the shadow of the decayed trees.

The crackling of the campfire drying the mud mixed with the vibration of the thick strings of the acoustic guitar. My left hand, which was still uncalloused from holding the chords, was in pain.

As I stared at the shadows of the campfire flickering on the empty soup bowl placed on the ground, Bell, who had hidden behind the decayed trees, appeared.

He returned to his seat, as if nothing had happened, and picked up the soup bowl he had set down.

"......."

Saint Grisha quietly took Bell's hand, who had sat beside her.

Bell briefly stared at her hand before turning his gaze back to the soup, scooping it with a spoon and putting it in his mouth.

"At first glance, the things that seem insignificant are the ones that enrich our lives. Like warm meat-filled soup... or things like alcohol, cigarettes, and music."

Grisha brought Bell’s pipe to her mouth and spoke softly.

...Is she saying she enjoyed the music?

"Thank you. I'm not much of a music connoisseur, but I could tell it had quite a unique composition. Please play it again next time."

"......!"

I stared at Grisha with wide eyes after hearing her words of thanks.

"What's wrong? Did I say something strange...?"

"Right? It's different from usual songs, isn't it? Normally, songs based on a minor scale would have a variation that either builds the mood or has a reversal in about 50 seconds to a minute, right? But this song didn't have such variations. The calm, low prelude, like the subtle scent of bread, continued for three minutes, and the ‘variation’ that appeared occasionally only made the listener think, ‘Oh, is the mood about to rise?’ That’s all it did. Anyway, it just goes back to the original tone and rhythm...."

"......."

Grisha blinked as she listened to my explanation.

"You seem to like music."

Bell, who was scooping the soup into his mouth, cynically spoke as he watched me talk excitedly.

"Don’t bother Grisha too much. She’s already tired...."

"The money chords were, of course, not used at all. They’re completely different from those hipster wannabe musicians who just change the fifth note to the seventh and then shamelessly claim, 'I didn’t use money chords.' If there had been a piano, I could have shown a much more sophisticated harmony...."

I interrupted Bell’s words and continued my explanation.

When someone explains something to you, you should be grateful and quietly listen, not show annoyance like that.

"I’m sorry, but no matter how much you explain, they won’t understand. We’re not deep in music knowledge. You should talk to someone else about that...."

"It’s fine. I know about it."

"......huh?"

Bell looked at me with a slightly blank expression, as if he didn’t understand.

"You just have to nod along. Knowing a bit about music won’t hurt, will it? As Grisha said, music enriches our lives."

I interrupted Bell, who was about to say something, and continued my explanation.

"Exactly, like soup or cigarettes...."

"Sigh! Please be quiet!"

I cut off Grisha and went on to explain the intention and structural features of the piece I had just performed, as well as the differences from regular music. Bell, of course, and even the Saint, seemed to have no idea what I was talking about.

...Actually, I could tell that Saint Grisha slightly regretted praising my music.

But so what?

You guys triggered this. You said you were impressed, that the composition was unique.

I hadn’t even been able to talk about music for the past two months, let alone work on it.

I was too focused on surviving and pretending to be a genius mage every day.

The phrase ‘I almost died’ here literally means ‘I was almost physically killed.’ It could easily be rephrased as ‘I almost became prey to a giant spider’ or ‘I almost melted in the hands of demons.’

If you are reading this translation anywhere other than Novelight.net or SilkRoadTL, it has been stolen.

Those were two awful months.

"By the way, I’m heading back to the barracks...."

"Oh!"

Even today, I was flying through the sky on that damn deer’s back.

Through a battlefield filled with demons trying to kill me!

Do you guys even understand what it’s like riding on a crazy electric deer, soaring 500 meters above the ground, with hundreds of spells flying at me while the deer doesn’t care about any of that?

Could you even imagine that anxious, terrifying feeling?

So, you guys have a duty to listen to my story.

You were the ones who complimented my music.

You’re responsible.

Even if you look at me with that ‘Why are you doing this to us?’ expression, I won’t show any mercy.

You got yourself into this.

"And... ahem, ahem!"

Maybe it was because I had been talking nonstop for nearly 20 minutes, but my throat felt incredibly swollen.

The air around me was already thick, and with my alarmingly low stamina, I could barely keep my mouth open.

I hadn’t even explained a tenth of the philosophy behind my music yet....

"Ah, is it over? That took a while."

"......Really? That’s amazing. What happened next?"

Bell, who had been staring blankly at the fire, finally turned his gaze toward me and asked.

Grisha... It seemed like she had either been asleep for a moment or was still half-asleep as she responded with a lifeless tone.

"...I’ll stop here for now."

I massaged my throat with my hand as I spoke.

To these weathered veterans, they must have dozens of ways to ignore someone blabbering on about something they don’t care about.

"Well, take care."

With a light farewell, I left the tent and walked away from the muddy field. As I wandered, I noticed soldiers, not just officers, sitting around the campfire with drinks and cigarettes in hand, chatting aimlessly and laughing.

‘...I wonder what he meant by ‘broke his bone’.’

"Attention! The new General, Mr. Bin, is here!"

Just as I was thinking about checking out where the wounded soldiers were gathered, I heard a voice from the corner of my vision for the first time.

"Yes? Ah, yes. Attention."

It was an officer holding a pipe. I didn’t remember his name. I had seen him report to Bell many times, but this was the first time I had spoken with him directly.

"Nice to meet you, Captain."

...Was he a captain? I wasn’t sure.

"I heard you bought all the cigarettes, alcohol, and even meat out of your own pocket. Thanks to that, the morale of the soldiers who had been lying on the ground has improved a bit."

The officer, with a medal on his chest, smiled in a slightly deranged manner and thanked me.

It seemed like he was indeed a captain.

"Also, that performance today! The sight of you riding a deer in the sky and calling down lightning was truly something out of a myth or a fairy tale. It was like the soldiers saw hope in their eyes for the first time in a while. Hahaha!"

It was a nice thing to say, but his laugh was so broken that I couldn’t take it seriously.

"I’m glad the soldiers’ morale has improved."

"Today, only one soldier committed suicide! But judging by the level of decomposition, it seems like the body was discovered a week after the suicide. So technically, there was no suicide today! Hahaha!"

"......."

Oh.

Yeah.

That’s a bit much, huh?

"Anyway... By the way, do you know a Private First Class Adra? He’s one of my personal guards. I heard he broke something, so I wanted to check on his condition. He’s the one with spiky hair like a chestnut."

I decided to change the subject rather than try to figure out how to react to his morbid words.

I didn’t want to talk for too long with someone who talks about such serious things with a "No one died! Yay!" kind of attitude.

Well, no one died, so that’s good, but still, that’s a little creepy. No one should be laughing like that while talking about such things, ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) right?

"Ah, I saw him earlier while smoking a cigarette. He was talking with Sergeant Rex over there, on the hill."

I said goodbye to the overly cheerful officer and followed his directions toward the low hill where Adra and Rex were.

I didn’t have the courage to talk to that guy for too long.

Shivers.

As I passed through the large officers’ barracks area, the decayed woods and a tall muddy hill that blocked the way appeared before me.

‘...He’s up there? Why did Adra, the one who supposedly broke something, climb up such a tall hill?’

I sighed and slowly started climbing the muddy hill.

Having gained some skill in handling my poor body, I didn’t climb straight up but took a slanted path, occasionally shifting direction.

If I went straight, the angle would be too steep, and my legs would start hurting right away, but by going at an angle, the slope was gentler.

This is the wisdom of someone who’s lived through two lifetimes....

"Are you planning on deserting?"

"Yes?"

The shout from Rex reached my ears as I was deep in my thoughts.

"That’s right."

And it was Adra who answered with that passionate shout.

...What’s going on up there?