Addendum?
Addendum to what?
At least Roboute Guilliman had nothing he wanted to add. In his view, Dorn's account had already been excellent. Besides, he currently had no way to throw himself fully into work.
He now had a profound understanding of exactly what it felt like to overuse magic—if he had to describe it, it was like someone taking a steel brush and scrubbing it back and forth across your cerebral cortex, occasionally kicking it for good measure. One could imagine how that felt. Naturally, it was not pleasant.
Worse still, even though he had already come out of the Medical Pod, that feeling remained.
"...Is there any way to make this feeling go away, teacher? Or at least ease it a little?"
The Mage looked up at him and said slowly, "Endure it, Roboute."
He pointed at his own face. That unreal quality still had not vanished; it remained. He seemed like a ghost sitting across from Roboute Guilliman, smiling calmly. "Just like me."
"Have you already gotten used to this feeling?"
"More or less. In the early years, when I still had to fight some devil lords with everything I had, I had to do this. Back then, it wasn't just overusing magic. Sometimes I even had to find a few other devil lords, sign contracts with them, and sell my soul."
As he spoke, he shrugged. "But all of them wanted to play tricks over it, so after I took the power, I had no choice but to kill them too."
"...Wouldn't that be somewhat untrustworthy?" Guilliman said tactfully.
"They were the ones who broke trust first," the Mage said lazily, leaning back in his chair. "That's how dealing with demons is. There are clauses on the corners and decorative patterns of the contract, and even