“Father. It has been a long time since I last saw you. There are many things I want to tell you.”
Seeing Siern greeting him with elegance as she lightly lifted her skirt with both hands, Melverot was breaking into a cold sweat, something quite unlike him.
Just moments earlier, he had seen her covered in blood from head to toe, so it was inevitable that the image of that former savage Siern overlapped in his mind.
He was not the only one—the servants were tense as well.
However, the Siern who had neatly arranged her posture was the very image of a refined lady.
Not even a year had passed since she had departed for the barony of Ravenclaw.
‘I thought that man was competent, but what in the world did he do to her?’
Melverot rested his chin on his hand, wearing an uncomfortable expression.
For the cold lord of the north to react like this was not something common.
***
Magic is the very foundation of nobility and a symbol of privilege.
For that reason, no noble ever neglects the spaces dedicated to magical training within their mansion.
For the servants, the maintenance of magical facilities is always one of the highest priorities.
The Rochester mansion, nestled in the midst of the frozen desert of the north, was no exception.
Although the entire estate was fortified for defense, the magical dueling field was considered a key facility and was so well maintained that there was nothing to criticize.
At the far end of the enormous space, comparable in size to the grand entrance hall, a gaunt man leaned on an oak staff as tall as he himself was.
Judging by his appearance alone, he looked like someone who might collapse and vanish into the snow at any moment.
Even so, Dereck clenched his fingers tightly inside his gloves, holding back the tension.
“I apologize for having caused such a pitiful spectacle. But what must be done, must be done.”
His appearance matched exactly what Dereck had seen in hero biographies—light brown hair, long and unkempt, speckled with gray.
Between his dim eyes, his pupils seemed barely able to hold on, as if he had lost all vitality.
He knew it beforehand, and yet he could not help doubting it every time he saw him like this.
Was that man really the great archmage who had once dominated the world?
Could he truly receive Dereck’s magic with a body that looked like it might break from the slightest impact?
But Kalimford spoke.
“My body is no longer what it once was, and I cannot use my magic to its fullest either. The aftereffects of the necromantic magic clinging to this body affect me— even my eyesight is no longer the same.”
His words sounded miserable, but what followed was the complete opposite.
“Even so, come at me with the intent to kill.”
“…”
“You seem far too worried. Are you going to hold back against a specter that already died once?”
Appearance and presence do not always go hand in hand.
Despite his fragility, there was a strange, intimidating pressure in his gaze.
He was right. There was no one who could afford to hold back in front of a six-star mage.
Calmly holding his massive oak staff, Kalimford simply waited for Dereck’s attack.
‘…Does he want to gauge my level first?’
Dereck inhaled deeply and hardened his gaze.
In an instant, magic surged around him, turning into a great flow that gathered at the tips of his fingers.
More than a dozen fire arrows materialized in the air and shot toward Kalimford.
Whoosh!
But Kalimford did not even defend himself.
More than that, it seemed as though he did not even react.
He remained there, gripping his staff, staring ahead with exhausted eyes.
The moment the fire arrows drew near, they broke apart into magic and dissipated without a trace.
“…”
It was only a one-star spell, cast as a test, but seeing it nullified in such an unexpected way made Dereck flinch.
‘He didn’t block them… nor intercept them.’
It was as if the arrows had simply vanished on their own.
Dereck felt a strange dissonance in the way Kalimford handled magic.
Reaching the pinnacle of combat magic did not merely mean having a high level.
It meant commanding domains that ordinary combat mages could not even touch.
Sensing that he had glimpsed a fraction of that, Dereck was wrapped in a peculiar excitement.
Whoosh!
“Come at me with the intent to kill.”
Those had been Kalimford’s words.
Dereck kicked off the ground and drew his sword.
He had confidence, but not arrogance.
If his opponent truly was Kalimford, a legendary six-star combat mage, exchanging combat spells alone would never be enough to defeat him.
Even in his weakened state, that fact did not change.
Wham!
Slash!
Dereck feinted a frontal charge, then abruptly veered to the side and hurled two throwing daggers strapped to his thigh.
At the same time, he activated the four-star transformation spell Distortion to accelerate the daggers’ speed, and added a one-star shockwave from behind to inject them with brutal physical force.
The speed of the daggers skyrocketed explosively, surpassing the threshold of visibility and reaching a domain where reacting was impossible.
Whoosh!
The only sign they had been thrown was the brief sound of air being sliced.
Magic and martial arts—an application that transcended the limits of each discipline.
Dereck’s combat style was neither that of a pure mage nor that of a mercenary.
Realizing this, Kalimford narrowed his eyes even further.
‘No wonder Fina desires him so much.’
Whoosh!
Once again, Kalimford neither blocked nor intercepted the attack.
The daggers came to an abrupt halt around him and fell to the ground without strength.
It was as if the magic of the environment itself had been devoured.
Normally, a mage would lose the will to fight upon realizing their magic was ineffective.
Wham!
But in Dereck’s eyes, as he closed the distance without hesitation, there was only killing intent.
‘Did he throw the daggers to test whether even physical attacks fall under my magical domain?’
And the moment he confirmed that they did not work either, he chose close-quarters combat as his last resort.
His chain of decisions was fluid and took only a few seconds.
A reaction speed unbefitting someone facing Kalimford for the first time.
Although he had mastered magic at a high level, he had not limited himself to training magic alone.
The more Kalimford observed him, the harder Dereck was to measure.
Whoosh!
But Kalimford was also someone seasoned by countless battles.
Without showing surprise, he forcefully swung his staff once, and his figure vanished from the spot.
In its place remained a dense mist laden with magic.
‘Illusion magic!’
Dereck frowned, halted his advance, and swept his gaze around while simultaneously activating his detection magic.
Well-trained detection is the natural enemy of illusion magic.
Even so, he could not immediately locate Kalimford.
That could only mean one thing—his illusion magic was, at the very least, four-star level.
Although he was famous as a combat mage, he had also reached an extraordinary level in other fields.
Whoosh!
Bang!
Four giant earth constructs emerged from the ground and stretched their hands toward Dereck, but before they could even reach him, they were frozen and neutralized by his ice magic.
The instant freezing Dereck employed was the result of adding his own interpretation to the magic Siern often used.
Its speed would be enough to bewilder even veteran mages.
Crack!
Crunch!
Dereck deployed a three-star ice spell that froze the entire area.
It was not only to suppress the earth giants, but to locate Kalimford.
His magic comfortably covered the entire dueling field.
If Kalimford remained hidden, he would have to react to avoid being frozen.
And indeed, within the mist saturated with magic, there was a single point of terrain that had not frozen.
There stood Kalimford.
Clang!
Whoosh!
Without losing a moment, a two-star fireball from Dereck slammed into that spot.
It was the spell he could cast the fastest.
Due to its speed, it did not seem as though it had flown there, but rather as if it had exploded directly on the spot.
Sizzle!
But when the mist dispersed, there was nothing there.
Kalimford had deliberately materialized a barrier at that spot through transformation magic, thereby inducing Dereck’s confusion.
Wham!
Whoosh!
To create an opening was, without a doubt, to seek out a lapse.
When Dereck sharpened his senses, it was already too late—more than a dozen fire arrows were raining down on him.
There was no time to dodge.
Dereck leapt forward, wrapped one of his arms in mana, and rolled across the ground.
Bang!
Wham!
One of the sleeves of the wool jacket he was wearing was charred and vanished, though his skin was protected thanks to the mana.
Even so, he could not prevent a slight burning sensation from lingering at the tips of his fingers.
Wham!
Whoosh!
Shaking his hand, Dereck got back on his feet.
From the smoke on the opposite side, Kalimford appeared, walking with absolute calm.
He dragged his staff along the ground, advancing slowly, as if he had simply gone out for a stroll.
‘Those fire arrows were the ones I conjured.’
The arrows he had launched as a probe returned now with a temporal delay.
Reusing an opponent’s magic was a common technique among experienced mages, but seeing them return after so much time was something Dereck had never witnessed.
Curiosity and an almost euphoric excitement welled up in his eyes.
‘Kalimford.’
The name of the legendary great mage who had once dominated the continent.
‘Illusion and summoning at least four stars. Detection and transformation bordering on five. And combat…’
‘Six stars.’
In the field of combat magic, his level was simply unreachable.
Even far from his prime, he was not an opponent one could measure strength against.
Normally, in front of someone like that, one would feel fear or reverence.
However, Dereck was not an ordinary human either.
He felt a jolt run down his spine.
Behind that mage walking while dragging his staff along the edge of the dueling field, the image of a colossal mountain seemed to rise.
His eyes were fixed, unwavering, on Dereck.
‘His ability to adapt to unfamiliar magic far surpasses that of an ordinary mercenary.’
‘The talent the heavens granted him is not limited to magic alone.’
Kalimford, too, was revising his evaluation of Dereck again and again.
The world paid attention only to Dereck’s magical talent, but his true value went far beyond that.
Mercenaries were famous for their improvisational skills and response to ambushes, but Dereck already stood out even among them.
It was the first time someone had responded like this, from the very first moment, to his control of mana.
Even Melverot had fallen victim to that technique at least once.
Step. Step.
According to Kalimford’s original plan, Dereck should have been struck by the fire arrows, and the duel should have ended there.
Then, while he recovered, he had intended to teach him a use of mana on a completely different level.
To learn his magic, it was necessary to abandon conventional notions entirely.
But all of that fell apart.
Dereck was still standing, almost unscathed, after shaking his arm a couple of times.
Then he spoke.
“You returned my own magic to me? Even after it had already dissipated?”
“…”
“It seems more like you captured the residue of a magic that had already fulfilled its role and restored it to its original state. It’s similar to the residual effect of my staff, Footprints.”
Dereck had already fully grasped the core of Kalimford’s magical control.
And this was the first time he had ever seen it.
“It’s the first time I’ve seen someone do it without the support of a magic weapon. And using the opponent’s mana.”
“It’s better to do it directly than to rely on equipment. There’s no limit to its use, and it confuses the enemy much more.”
Being able to reactivate an adversary’s spells at the desired moment forced the opponent to regard even their own past magic as a threat.
In a one-on-one duel, it was an ability that shattered all established rules.
“If you understood it that quickly, you can advance to the next level without delay. That’s good news. I don’t have much time left.”
“What…?”
The instant Dereck responded, his body was already sent flying.
Wham!
The fact that he even managed to raise both arms to assume a defensive stance was already an absurd reaction, but his eyes widened.
Thud! Thud!
Crack! Crunch!
Dereck slammed into the inner wall of the dueling field.
Even so, he released mana instantly, managing to cushion the direct impact.
“If you are going to face Fina… and if you intend to continue teaching Siern, four stars are not enough. Whether you like it or not… you must become stronger.”
Crack!
Grind!
The amount of mana Kalimford possessed was surprisingly small.
However, with just the act of clenching his fist, an overwhelming pressure fell upon Dereck, difficult even for him to endure.
Wham!
Crack!
Dereck’s arms trembled, but he clenched his teeth and focused strength into his fingers.
‘The absolute quantity of mana is low, but… is there a technique that amplifies its effect?’
‘If I understand the mechanism, I might be able to counter it.’
Even under attack, he did not stop thinking.
Even so, at that moment he could not grasp the exact basis of Kalimford’s magic.
“I will show you what the true essence of combat magic really is. It will be something on a completely different level from anything you have experienced.”
Dragging the massive staff along the ground, Kalimford advanced with steady steps.
That great mage, long past his prime, had nonetheless reached a degree of mastery that bordered on the inconceivable.
And in his eyes, sharp as blades, an even more intense light gleamed.
