Chapter 9
A cold standoff continued between the adjutant and .
THUD!
Lord Dalmon slamd his fist down on the desk. His strength was so great that the tal table visibly crumpled.
“I, I…”
In stark contrast to that overwhelming strength, Lord Dalmon spoke with an expression that looked unbearably weak and sorrowful.
“…Ugh, I did nothing more than exterminate filthy, savage orcs! Then why, why are you treating like this? It is because that bastard Berian is weak—because his heart is weak—why is that my fault?! Why is it ?!”
“Lord Dalmon, I did not accuse you of anything. I rely—”
I could not finish my sentence.
The adjutant pressed the blade at my throat even closer. The chill of the steel seed to seep all the way into my windpipe.
“Shut up and leave. Say nothing more to Lord Dalmon.”
“…Understood, Adjutant Sigrid. Lord Dalmon. If the opportunity arises, we shall et again.”
The adjutant withdrew the blade that had been aid at my neck, and I rose from my seat.
As I turned to leave, I glanced back.
Adjutant Sigrid stood ramrod straight at attention, glaring at with a venomous, unwavering stare. Lord Dalmon had buried his head into the crushed desk, sobbing.
***
A day passed after my eting with Lord Dalmon, and a letter arrived from the kingdom.
─Two weeks. If Berian the Mage’s phobia is not cured within that ti, the contract will be terminated.
It was not difficult to guess that Adjutant Sigrid’s personal opinions had been heavily added to that letter.
I requested etings with other knights and soldiers who had participated in the Ashen Cinder Battle instead of Lord Dalmon, but I was rejected every single ti. This, too, was likely due to Adjutant Sigrid’s influence.
Phobias—especially those caused by PTSD—must be handled delicately.
If one does not know exactly what happened at the ti, treatnt will remain elusive indefinitely.
‘In order to treat Mr. Berian, I have to know about the Ashen Cinder Battle.’
Not fabricated records, but what truly happened during the Ashen Cinder Battle.
‘But how?’
The truth was concealed by the royal army and the kingdom itself. At this point, I would no longer be able to et anyone who had participated in the battle.
Mr. Berian had virtually no accessible mories of the Ashen Cinder Battle due to trauma.
More precisely, the mories existed, but he was unable to convey them to others. His mories were subrged at the very bottom of his consciousness.
‘The advance paynt is not the real problem. Letting things end like this, without being able to treat Mr. Berian, leaves a terrible taste in my mouth.’
Of course, the advance paynt was also a problem.
I was in no position to return the money the kingdom had already paid ….
While I was lost in thought, Mr. Berian arrived at the counseling office. Today was his scheduled session.
“Hello, Mr. Berian. How have your symptoms been?”
“About the sa. Lately, I have been avoiding anything related to f-fire altogether. Every ti I see it, I start b-breathing fast and stuttering….”
“And you have been taking your dication continuously?”
“Yes. I am still taking it, but even so….”
Even ntioning the word “fire” seed difficult for Mr. Berian. His condition showed no sign of improvent.
I felt powerless.
‘Without knowing what truly happened during the Ashen Cinder Battle, I cannot treat Mr. Berian. And the fact that there is no way to learn that truth is what makes feel powerless.’
‘No… there is one thod.’
A way to uncover the truth—and at the sa ti, a way to treat Mr. Berian.
I voiced the idea that had suddenly occurred to .
“Mr. Berian, would you be willing to try hypnotherapy?”
“…What?”
Mr. Berian looked unfamiliar with the term. That was understandable. In a world where the profession of counselor itself was unfamiliar, the concept of hypnosis would naturally be foreign as well.
“In cases like the phobia you are experiencing, confrontation is important. Avoidance and running away make it very difficult to overco.”
“I-I suppose so. I have no intention of running away.”
Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder does not heal by remaining idle.
One must confront it, and confront it again. Treatnt is, by nature, painful rather than comfortable.
Fortunately, people in this world understood such concepts well. Whether one called it recklessness or courage, their very disposition favored confrontation over avoidance.
“In my opinion, Mr. Berian’s phobia originated from the Ashen Cinder Battle.”
“The Ashen Cinder Battle… yes, that is probably true.”
“The mories of that battle were so painful that you locked them away at the deepest level of your mind. In that state, confrontation becos impossible.”
Of course, one must not force confrontation recklessly. It must be done slowly, carefully, so that the mind does not suffer shock.
In Mr. Berian’s case, we would first restore the mories of the Ashen Cinder Battle, then help him grow accustod to dia and language indirectly related to fire, and only after that gradually confront fire itself—eventually even fla magic.
“Hypnosis can help with that.”
“How is that possible?”
“Through circumstances and magical elents, I will place you in a half-asleep state. I will blur your perception. In that condition, I will gently guide specific actions and language, slowly and carefully drawing out those mories.”
Hypnosis in this world was quite different from hypnosis in my previous life.
In my previous life, emotions originated from hormones. Here, they could originate from mana—and above all, magic existed.
Hypnosis here made use of ntal-type magic. As a result, it was more direct than hypnosis in my previous life, simpler in so ways, and even reliable.
After hearing the explanation, Mr. Berian looked uneasy.
“…Is that not mind control magic?”
“It is similar, but slightly different. Mind control magic forces a person to perform actions they would never normally take. For example, it could make an extrely kind person commit murder. Hypnosis does not do that.”
I continued explaining calmly. If a client feared hypnosis, attempting hypnotherapy would be impossible.
“If mind control magic creates sothing out of nothing, then hypnosis can be described as greatly amplifying sothing that already exists. Hypnosis cannot create sothing out of nothing.”
“That is difficult to understand.”
“Above all, the human unconscious possesses a self-protective instinct. Hypnosis cannot issue commands that violate it. If such a command is given, blurred perception imdiately sharpens, and the hypnosis is broken.”
In truth, there were thods to issue commands that defied such instincts and perception.
However, I did not explain that. I had no intention of using such thods on Mr. Berian, and there was no need to instill unnecessary fear.
“So… you are certain that hypnosis will help with the treatnt?”
“It will definitely help.”
After repeated persuasion, Mr. Berian’s fear and anxiety toward hypnosis seed to lessen sowhat.
“…All right. I will try it.”
As Mr. Berian finally nodded, a peculiar light flickered in his eyes.
“Will hypnotherapy be done here as well?”
“No. We will conduct it in the special counseling room.”
“The special counseling room?”
“Please, follow .”
I led Mr. Berian to the special counseling room.
Inside were a large bed and a single chair, and the room was enclosed on all sides by solid walls. Mr. Berian looked around, then asked with curiosity,
“Uh… I have never seen a place like this before. Was it always here?”
“It was newly built during the recent expansion of the counseling office. It is a space used for various special treatnts, including hypnotherapy.”
“Oh….”
The special counseling room was equipped with facilities required for special treatnts.
It also possessed “special functions.”
“Please lie down in this chair. We will begin.”
***
When people hear the word “hypnosis,” the first image that cos to mind is a coin.
You know—the coin with a hole in it that a hypnotist always holds in dia featuring hypnosis.
The coin that is rhythmically swung in front of the subject’s eyes.
In hypnosis, this coin is called a “dium.”
The role of the dium is to induce imrsion.
A person under hypnosis usually has their eyes closed, and their speech sounds sluggish or vague. As a result, they appear less imrsed and more defenseless, as if half asleep.
In reality, however, a hypnotized person is focusing an unconscious level of concentration entirely on the hypnotist’s suggestions. Because all their concentration is directed there, they only appear defenseless at a glance.
In any case, I did not intend to use such a “dium.”
‘More precisely, I intend to use magic instead of a dium.’
The principle behind ntal-type magic is generally as follows: through magic, one alters the flow of mana within the target’s body, thereby inducing changes in their emotions.
It is easy to imagine throwing a stone into a calm lake to artificially create ripples.
However, even if a stone is thrown into a lake, the ripples are only temporary. Even if rain falls, the water level rises only slightly, and even if the sun shines brightly, the water level falls only slightly.
Likewise, even when using ntal-type magic, one cannot cause lasting or permanent changes to another person’s emotions.
And just as one can create ripples by throwing a stone but cannot change the shape of the lake itself, ntal-type magic cannot evoke emotions that are overly complex.
‘But I can.’
I can see and feel the shape and flow of mana within a target’s body.
If I use this ability more deeply and strongly, I can alter the shape and flow of mana itself, guiding the target into feeling specific emotions.
“Mr. Berian, from now on, I will be intervening with the mana inside your body. I will not only observe its shape and flow, but directly influence them.”
“That is possible… no, I suppose asking such questions is aningless now. Understood.”
Mr. Berian readily extended his hand toward .
“I will trust you, Instructor.”
“Please do.”
I took his hand and contemplated the shape and flow of the mana coursing through his body.
As a powerful mage, Mr. Berian possessed a large quantity of mana, and its flow was smooth. However, its shape was generally sharp and constricted—a form commonly seen in people suffering from a dangerously severe level of depression.
This was likely because his inability to use magic due to Fire Phobia had severely damaged his self-esteem.
“We will begin.”
As I said that, I injected mana into Mr. Berian’s body.
I began directly influencing the shape and flow of the mana within him.
It was easier said than done—a feat only I could perform.
As mana was injected, the flow appeared to stop for an instant. In truth, it had not stopped; it had rely slowed to such an extent that it seed so.
The sharp shape of the mana gradually beca round.
The once tiny, spherical mana particles began to spin, eventually forming ellipsoids.
Around that ti, Mr. Berian’s breathing beca perfectly regular.
His mind would also have entered a state extrely conducive to imrsion. I had manipulated the shape and flow of mana precisely to achieve that.
“Now, all you need to do is follow my words, one by one. Relax.”
Since I had explained beforehand that there was no need to answer or nod, Mr. Berian remained still. He simply closed his eyes comfortably. At a glance, he looked as though he were asleep.
“You are standing in a field where a cool breeze blows. In the distance, you see a cave. It is a deep cave. You slowly step into it. The cave slopes downward. You walk down into its depths.”
Mr. Berian’s eyelids fluttered briefly, as if in a spasm, then settled.
“The cave is quiet, but it is safe and comfortable. There, you can hear only my voice clearly. Now, you proceed deeper into the cave….”
At last, Mr. Berian’s expression and face completely relaxed.
I could tell that he had entered a state of imrsion. Occasionally, hypnosis fails to take hold, but fortunately, that was not the case for Mr. Berian.
“…You see a light ahead. You erge from the cave. You are walking with your comrades, with Lord Dalmon and Adjutant Sigrid. You are exhausted.”
Mr. Berian’s brow furrowed slightly.
Carefully and gently, I guided him toward the situation at that ti.
“You, exhausted, find a place to rest and stop. What do you see?”
“A village… a village….”
A small smile spread across Mr. Berian’s lips.
“There is a village… orc residents live there.”
“……”
I frowned.
‘Not an orc military outpost, but a village?’
I had assud that one or two lines of the Ashen Cinder Battle records had been falsified.
I was wrong.
The records of the Ashen Cinder Battle had been fabricated from beginning to end.
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