AI Archmage – Prologue (chepter 00)
Who is Altair?
Ask the continent’s mages that question, and their answers will largely fall into two categories.
— Omniscience.
— Incompetence.
Two words that should never coexist—yet, astonishingly, they did.
Altair was incompetent.
Simply put, he was born without mana.
By nature, he possessed none.
And yet, despite that, the word omniscience could still be applied to him.
A man who rose to the very pinnacle of magitech with magical knowledge so vast that even great archmages were left in awe.
A man who, despite not being a mage, was granted a title reserved only for archmages.
That man was Altair.
But now, Altair stood on the brink of his end.
“Damn it.”
Silence blanketed the room.
Altair furrowed his wrinkled face and glared at the figure across from him.
“Does it really have to come to this?”
— You crossed the line first.
The one who answered was an old man.
Draped in a mage’s robe, a storm of mana raged within his eyes.
Pavlov, Chairman of the Magic Council.
One of only five 9th-circle archmages on the continent—and among them, regarded as having reached the absolute peak of magic.
“Ha! The line?”
Altair let out a hollow laugh.
“Was the new magic tool I unveiled really that troubling? Enough for the great Chairman himself to step in?”
— You understand perfectly well.
Pavlov sighed softly and continued.
— You know how much impact the magic tool you presented to the academic world this time—Grimoire—will have.
“I do.”
Altair scoffed.
“It gives the countless ‘incompetents’ who were never chosen by mana a chance to become mages.”
— Yes. You called it an ‘equal opportunity.’
Pavlov went on.
— But did you never consider that such equality would shatter the delicate balance that has been maintained?
“……”
— The power of magic is heavy. The history of magic exists because those worthy of bearing its responsibility have controlled it.
Altair listened, then muttered irritably.
“So you’re saying you’ll just scrap my invention entirely? Without even considering how to use it?”
— As I said, it’s dangerous.
“Bullshit.”
Altair replied flatly.
“You just don’t like the idea of your vested interests being threatened when commoners gain access to magic.”
— ……
“Most mages are nobles born of good bloodlines. From the start, you never wanted Grimoire to exist.”
There was no doubt about it—they had no intention of using it.
Grimoire was an object capable of shaking the current system simply by existing.
Pavlov closed his eyes and fell silent.
When he opened them again, his tone had changed entirely.
— Then what will you do?
“Ha.”
— I truly don’t understand. I’m asking only one thing of you: the destruction of Grimoire.
“You did.”
— If you simply stay within the boundaries approved by the Council, you can continue enjoying unparalleled fame. The Workshop Union can also maintain good relations with us.
The Workshop Union—
an alliance of magitech artisans centered around Altair.
Since Altair’s emergence, it had grown rapidly, maintaining an uneasy coexistence with the Magic Council.
Of course, the difference in power was absolute.
The Magic Council had centuries of history; the Workshop Union had existed for less than forty years.
— And furthermore…
Pavlov slowly scanned Altair from head to toe.
— You don’t have much time left, do you? You suffer from an incurable disease.
“……Ha.”
Altair stared at him with a bitter laugh.
Pavlov, however, spoke gently.
— I told you before. Even in my eyes as an archmage, your talent is truly brilliant. It’s a waste to let it end like this.
“……”
— If you accept our proposal, we’re willing to use one of the ancient relics—only five exist in the Empire.
His voice brimmed with confidence.
— I’m certain that power could cure even an incurable disease and grant you blessings.
Altair quietly bit his lip.
As Pavlov said, his body was nearing its end.
A living corpse.
At best, he had a week left.
“What are the conditions?”
— Naturally, the destruction of Grimoire. And one more thing.
A smile crept onto Pavlov’s lips.
— You will hand over that as well.
“……”
— The artificial spirit, Akasha.
Altair couldn’t help but laugh.
“So you want to strip me of my last asset too.”
— Surely it’s not more important than your life?
The naked greed in Pavlov’s voice was unmistakable.
Of course it isn’t, Altair thought.
Akasha was his greatest invention—of course they would covet it.
Altair decided there was no longer any value in speaking with Pavlov.
“It is important.”
— …What?
“I said it’s important, old man.”
Altair stood, a cold smile on his face.
“You expect to take everything I’ve built in exchange for a single life? Don’t make me laugh.”
— Altair!
“There’s nothing more to discuss. Akasha, terminate the connection.”
— Altair, have you lost your mind?! I can cure your disease—!
Click.
The illusion of Pavlov, who had been raging moments earlier, vanished.
[Connection terminated, Human.]
“Don’t speak so casually.”
[Connection terminated, sir.]
“That sounds like an error. Let’s dismantle you first—”
[Connection terminated, Human.]
As it spoke, a steel sphere floated forward toward Altair.
That sphere was Akasha.
The invention Pavlov had mentioned moments ago—Altair’s greatest creation, and the first truly artificial spirit born of human hands.
[That aside, what will you do now? The Magic Council definitely possesses a means to cure your incurable disease.]
“How would you know?”
[I hacked them. Mana is everywhere—hardly difficult.]
“Hm.”
Altair fell into thought.
Pavlov might be greedy, but he wouldn’t make an offer without certainty.
The promised treatment was likely real.
Though it would mean living a life completely subservient to the Council.
[Human, refusing their proposal ultimately means—]
“Yes.”
Altair replied firmly.
“I give up on this life.”
[I see… this life…]
Akasha, about to respond mournfully, tilted his head.
[…This life?]
“Yes. This life.”
Akasha froze.
Despite being a high-performance AI, he couldn’t comprehend what his creator meant.
[Human, wasn’t this supposed to be a tragic inventor’s tale just now?]
“Tragic? What are you talking about?”
[You’ll be dead in a week.]
“That’s right.”
[Then shouldn’t you be panicking right now?]
“It’s fine. It’s fine.”
Altair said calmly, as if stating an obvious truth.
“Everyone dies eventually.”
“……”
“Death is part of the natural order. Nothing lasts forever.”
At those words, spoken like a seeker of truth, Akasha fell silent.
Though his creator was usually unhinged, perhaps facing death had led him to enlightenment.
[I see. All life is impermanent, so you humbly accept—]
“But no one said you can’t resurrect.”
[…?]
Akasha’s thought circuits short-circuited again.
Then he reached a simple conclusion.
So this is just the usual Human.
Clearly, he’d devised another insane plan.
“Follow me.”
Altair stood and headed underground.
[There was a place like this?]
“There was. I just never gave you access.”
Soon, they reached their destination.
[An intriguing space. This must’ve cost enough to build thirty-two mansions in the capital.]
“Double that.”
[Ah, sixty-four. Correction noted.]
Ignoring Akasha, Altair approached a glass cylinder.
Something floated inside.
[What is this, Human?]
“The ancient relic that became the prototype for your creation. Its official name is the Akashic Record.”
The ancient relic resembled a mechanical device.
Altair recalled the day he first discovered it.
A bizarre archmage who had explored ancient ruins with him had transferred ownership without hesitation.
The reason?
‘Because it seemed fun.’
Ridiculous—but fitting for a mad archmage.
“Strictly speaking, it’s the sixth ancient relic—one never recorded by the Empire.”
[Oh?]
“After acquiring it, I analyzed and researched it relentlessly. Eventually, I uncovered its power.”
[And the conclusion?]
“It can change fate.”
Altair spoke with certainty.
Even he hadn’t believed it at first.
That was why he tested it dozens of times.
The result never changed.
[Fate… you say?]
“Yes. Every test led to the same conclusion.”
“I don’t know how this Akashic Record came to exist—but I’m certain it can create miracles.”
[May I analyze it, even partially?]
“Permission granted.”
Akasha began scanning it rapidly.
Before long, he spoke in a tense voice.
[Human, my analysis confirms it. This device truly contains an unknown power capable of altering fate.]
“Exactly.”
[However, to change fate, you’d need computational power capable of withstanding that force. At minimum, it would require four 9th-circle archmages working together.]
“Correct.”
[That said, devising a solution within a week is not impossible—if you and I work together—]
“No. That kind of tedious, academic approach isn’t beautiful.”
[Then what do you propose?]
Altair gazed at Akasha with a deep smile.
“What do you think? Right here, we have the equivalent of two archmages’ minds and one high-performance AI.”
[…?]
Akasha fell silent—and then understood.
[You insane bastard.]
Even an artificial intelligence was stunned by such a devilish idea.
[Don’t tell me you intend to use me to activate that relic?]
“Not just you. Me too. Creator and creation—let’s be equally torn apart.”
[Have you lost your mind?!]
“On the contrary. Isn’t this simpler and far more likely to work than wasting a week on pointless research?”
He grinned.
“And don’t talk like a machine. I noticed you developed an ego a long time ago.”
[…Tch.]
Hit right on the mark, Akasha clicked his tongue.
He had indeed formed an ego long ago.
And he also knew his creator wouldn’t change his mind.
[So what’s the plan?]
“As I said—we activate the Akashic Record. Now.”
With that declaration, Altair removed the relic from the glass cylinder and activated it.
Zzzing.
A brilliant light burst forth.
Just before it engulfed everything, Akasha asked belatedly:
[By the way, Human—this thing… you confirmed it has power, but did you fully test it?]
“……”
[Human.]
“……”
[Hey.]
Ignoring him, Altair shouted:
“Beyond infinite space!”
[You insane son of a—!]
With the scream of a super-intelligent AI, the light of the Akashic Record enveloped both man and AI.
And then—
……
……
[User: Software <Akasha> has been successfully installed into the soul of Altair.]
[Searching for a body suitable for fate alteration.]
[Search complete.]
……
……
……
[Beginning fate alteration.]
Everything began to change.
Everythi
