Whoosh!
Rustle!
From Siern’s fingertips, the condensed mana took the shape of an enormous rose and, in the next instant, unraveled back into smoke until it disappeared.
He knew that the amount of mana Siern possessed was enormous, but he had not imagined that her control had become so delicate.
Melverot, seated atop the worktable, had his pupils tremble slightly.
“It seems that not only transformation magic, but also confusion and combat magic will soon rise in level. The level 4 that Dereck handles still feels a bit distant… but it doesn’t seem like an impossible boundary.”
“…Siern. How long has it been since you went to the territory of Baron Ravenclaw?”
“Huh? I think… less than a year.”
Melverot crossed his arms and brought a hand to his mouth.
When he calculated the dates, he realized that Siern was right.
In less than a year, Baron Ravenclaw had completely stabilized her mana, suppressed her tendency toward loss of control, instilled in her the education proper to a lady, and raised both her combat magic and confusion magic to level 3.
A young noble lady who reached level 3 at that age did not exist anywhere on the continent.
And not in just one discipline, but in three.
‘I have to admit what deserves to be admitted.’
Melverot was proud and not inclined to show his emotions.
He had entrusted Siern to Dereck thinking it was a good choice, and had provided some support, but he had never imagined the results would go this far.
“It seems that the period of learning in Ravenclaw was truly beneficial.”
“Of course. Although there is something that worries me a bit more than before.”
“What is it?”
“When we arrived in the territory of Rochester, he was only an instructor known by word of mouth. But now his value has risen too much, and more young nobles come looking for him every day. It’s become difficult for him to devote himself completely to teaching just one person.”
That point also placed Melverot in an awkward position.
As the one backing Dereck, he could ask him to focus solely on Siern’s education.
But if he did so, would the other noble families remain silent?
Duplain.
Belmierd.
Beltus.
Renuel.
Each one individually might be manageable.
But if several of those houses joined forces, the situation would be difficult to contain.
Perhaps it was best to be satisfied with the fact that Siern was already receiving an excellent education.
“It’s understandable that influential houses covet him. A man with noble bearing and, moreover, deep knowledge of magical education is not easy to find.”
“That may be true… but, Father. I don’t think Dereck can dominate and teach so many people just by being gentle or aristocratic.”
Siern lifted her chin with a proud air, as if she were boasting.
“You still haven’t seen Dereck fight seriously, have you?”
In Rochester, he had caused quite a stir trying to correct Siern’s attitude, but Melverot had only known of it through reports.
What had Siern seen while receiving direct instruction from Dereck in Ravenclaw?
Curiosity was inevitable.
“Dereck is… kh—!”
Just as she was about to continue, a small and adorable sneeze interrupted her.
“…”
Silence fell between them.
***
Boom!
Crash!
Bang!
Crash!
The servants watching the duel between Dereck and Kalimford began to turn pale.
They had thought it would be a simple magical practice and that they would only have to clean up afterward.
But each exchange grew more brutal than the last, to the point that just watching made them swallow hard.
Bang!
Dereck dispersed Kalimford’s mana as best he could and rolled out of his area of influence.
‘The throwing daggers… they’re already gone.’
He quickly grabbed a fragment of stone from the destroyed inner wall and pushed off to run along the perimeter of the dueling field.
Whoosh!
Kalimford swung his staff.
Up until now, he had only been gradually raising the level of his magic to measure Dereck.
But from that moment on, he planned to use real combat spells.
If Kalimford went too far, even this mansion would be reduced to rubble just from the shockwave.
He knew that perfectly well.
Bang!
Kalimford planted his staff in the center of the field and calmly closed his eyes.
A mage who could cast high-level magic without concentrating.
If he started doing it seriously, it was a sign of a major change.
Dereck hurled the stone fragment and leapt again, just to interrupt his concentration.
Screech!
But the great mage read his intention instantly and completed the spell without batting an eye.
Thud!
The stone struck his left temple, and blood began to slide down his cheek.
Tap.
Whoosh!
Like a drop falling onto a calm lake.
The world began to transform.
Everything distorted and churned, and the snow-covered dueling field and the destroyed wall vanished into smoke.
Rumble… rumble…
[5-star transformation magic.]
“Recreation of the battlefield.”
Before Dereck’s eyes appeared a vast field upon an immense lake.
The water was so still that it reflected the blue sky all the way to the horizon.
And yet, he could walk upon it.
Each step generated ripples that spread to the edge of the lake.
In the distance, the gaunt figure of Kalimford could be seen.
‘I’ve fallen into his trap.’
Dereck drew his longsword, lowered his stance, and covered himself with defensive magic.
Transformation mages were not considered ideal for direct combat, but they were masters of battlefield control.
And this was a spell of the highest level.
Swoosh.
Kalimford wiped the blood near his left eye and closed that eye while channeling mana into his staff.
His body began to float.
A storm erupted around him.
The cheap oak staff began to crack under the pressure of his mana.
Bang!
Crash!
Whoosh!
Crack!
Boom!
Waves rose over the silent lake.
The storm enveloped Kalimford, protecting him completely.
The reason was obvious.
A spell so colossal was coming that even he himself could be affected by it.
There was a saying among high-level mages.
If your opponent starts protecting himself with high-rank defensive magic, either you stop him now, or prepare to leave your last words.
Darkness covered the sky.
It was not night.
Something gigantic was descending from above.
Whoosh—!
A colossal meteorite, so enormous that its shadow alone covered the entire region.
The spell that nullified Noir and brought the War of Dawn to an end.
The legendary 6-star combat magic that redrew the map of the northern continent.
The heat of the meteorite made the sweat on Dereck’s skin grow cold.
When he opened his eyes wide—
BOOOOOOM!!
After that, the roar no longer reached his ears.
***
Whoosh!
Rustle!
The landscape of the battlefield created by Kalimford began to fade, and little by little the scene of the training field returned to view.
The silhouette of the meteorite that had covered the sky, as well as the infernal landscape that had set the land ablaze upon impact, gave the impression of never having existed at all.
“Haah… haah…”
After manifesting several 5-star spells and even going so far as to use level 6 magic, it felt as though all his strength had been drained from his body.
Leaning on his staff, Kalimford barely managed to support his completely weakened body.
He was exhausted.
After coughing dryly and barely regaining his balance, he raised his gaze with haggard eyes.
In his slightly trembling field of vision, he saw Dereck kneeling, barely managing to stay upright.
At the instant the meteorite struck, Kalimford had activated an additional defensive spell to protect Dereck as well.
The reason for doing so was simple.
To forge the mental fortitude needed to not lose composure even before absolute power.
It was indispensable for facing a 6-star mage.
Six-star magic belongs to the domain of calamity, a realm before which there is not even a way to react.
As with a natural disaster, once a human is caught in it, there is nothing to do but die.
Knowing it as a concept and experiencing it firsthand are completely different things.
That was why, even forcing himself, it was necessary for him to live through that experience.
“Cough… ha…!”
Just by withstanding the residual shockwave, Dereck had already consumed almost all of his stamina and began to cough.
Kalimford had instructed countless imperial mages.
Everyone who saw 6-star magic for the first time reacted the same way they wet themselves, begged for their lives, or broke down crying.
It was not strange.
That is how humans react when death is before them.
However, Dereck raised his gaze and spoke.
“Avo… a-avoided…”
“What did you say?”
Whoosh!
Crash!
Whoosh!
At that instant, from Kalimford’s left flank, more than a dozen fire arrows shot forth and slammed into him.
It was a completely unexpected attack.
Kalimford nearly took all the impacts head-on.
Thanks to reflexes that surpassed human limits, he managed to neutralize almost all of them, but one slipped through the gap and grazed the edge of his clothing.
It passed dangerously close, beneath his arm.
There was no physical damage.
But the edge of the garment began to burn.
Fwoosh!
The heat rising from his arm was unmistakable.
That projectile had been partially avoided by sheer luck.
‘…’
Kalimford opened his eyes in surprise and looked toward Dereck.
His mana was practically exhausted.
In that state, it was impossible to launch a surprise attack.
‘Did he prepare it before creating the space with transformation magic?’
But the time lag was far too great for that.
A delayed attack.
When he thought that far, he recalled what he himself had explained to Dereck just before they were trapped in the created space.
‘An attack that returns with a delay, using the effect of a mana afterimage.’
‘It’s so complicated that even veteran mages have trouble handling it.’
Just moments earlier, he had shown it to him as a demonstration.
And after hearing it only once, Dereck had already applied it in real combat.
It wasn’t simply “using what he had learned.”
Kalimford wiped the blood running down his left temple and swallowed.
At last, he understood Dereck’s intention.
Most likely, even before picking up the fragment from the ground, he had already foreseen the entire sequence.
That Kalimford would attempt to shift the battlefield using high-level magic—that too had been within his calculations.
Even for Kalimford, recreating the battlefield required an instant of concentration.
At that precise moment, Dereck diverted his attention with the thrown fragment and prepared the delayed attack using the mana afterimage.
First, break the concentration.
Then, gather mana.
And finally, strike with a temporal delay.
An attack without any prior sign.
In a one-on-one duel, it was extremely dangerous.
Kalimford had said it in his own words.
The reason Dereck forced this method was obvious.
To defeat someone who had reached such an abysmal height as Kalimford, he had to rely precisely on what Kalimford himself described as difficult to handle.
‘So from the beginning he already had, at least in part, control over the mana afterimage…’
And even so, he chose not to reveal it until the very end.
Because that was the only way to pierce Kalimford’s guard.
“Cough… ha…!”
Dereck sneezed and, pushing himself off the ground, began to stand up.
Seeing this, Kalimford’s pupils trembled for an instant.
He had noticed the leather strap tied to Dereck’s thigh.
A holder for throwing daggers.
There were none left.
He had used them all during the initial phase.
If he had had even a single dagger remaining, what would have flown would not have been a stone.
And had that been the case, Kalimford would not have been able to ignore the attack.
A dagger lodged in the temple would have been lethal.
If so, the course of the fight would have changed completely.
Desperately searching for a single move to win, even against an enemy as imposing as a mountain.
That is the essence of a mercenary.
As he wiped the blood from his temple, Kalimford thought.
“Kill me if you can.”
He himself had said it.
And perhaps, it had been a recklessness.
“Cough… haah… Shall we… continue…?”
Seeing Dereck’s eyes, as he barely managed to stay upright, Kalimford put on an incredulous expression.
After having been a step away from taking a 6-star spell head-on, could he still say something like that?
Warning him to dodge.
Everything about that man defied common sense.
It was as if his fear of death were contained within him.
It wasn’t that he didn’t fear dying.
He simply possessed a reason capable of crushing even that fear.
That is not something one is born with.
It is a quality forged only by those who have walked since childhood along the edge between life and death.
‘I think I understand how you feel, Fina.’
A pure passion for magic.
A chilling calm.
The ability to absorb and immediately apply what he sees only once.
Kalimford swallowed and watched Dereck, who could barely keep himself standing.
Then he closed his eyes for a moment and spoke.
“No. We’ll stop here for today. If we keep forcing ourselves, you won’t be able to attend the banquet.”
Kalimford knew with absolute certainty.
Perhaps 6 stars was still uncertain.
But that man would undoubtedly reach the level of 5 stars in the near future.
A level comparable to that of the heads of the great noble houses.
***
“Was the banquet canceled?”
After receiving several minor mana-adjustment techniques from Kalimford and concluding the training, Dereck returned to his room, where he received unexpected news.
The maid who came to inform him spoke with an apologetic expression, but seemed even more uncomfortable because Dereck was completely bare from the waist up, so she turned halfway around and, awkwardly, continued speaking.
After just a single confrontation with Kalimford, Dereck’s body was covered in small cuts and scrapes, so he had bandages wrapped here and there.
It could be said that it had been brutal training, but Dereck showed not the slightest discomfort.
“Yes. While you were getting ready… an unexpected matter arose, and the castle has entered a state of emergency. Lord Melverot personally declared the alert, so all the servants are rushing about.”
“What? Did demonic beasts appear or something like that?”
“The exact situation hasn’t been determined yet, but… Lord Melverot was urgently looking for the Baron of Ravenclaw.”
For Melverot to seek someone out “urgently” was truly strange.
He had always been a calm man, someone who did not become flustered by most incidents.
He had even faced crises that threatened the entire world without losing his composure.
That something was serious enough to cancel the entire castle’s schedule was hard to imagine.
Dereck frowned and nodded, indicating that he understood.
Tap!
As soon as he finished adjusting his clothes and stepped into the corridor, he saw Melverot approaching from the other end, forcing his way through servants running back and forth.
The very Melverot famed for rarely leaving his seat had come in person to look for Dereck.
That alone was already an alarming sign.
Something serious had happened.
With a tense expression, Dereck strode forward.
At his side, Kalimford, who had apparently already been informed of the situation, wore a clearly grave look.
Both were 6-star mages, figures who could destroy one or two castles without even blinking.
That even they were breaking into cold sweat and hardening their expressions meant this was an unprecedented anomaly.
Perhaps they would even have to enter combat immediately, despite not being in their best condition.
Dereck quickly checked the state of his equipment and quickened his pace.
In an instant, he arrived before them.
Maintaining as much calm as possible, he inclined his head to Melverot.
“You were here?”
“I was getting ready for a moment. What happened in the castle?”
“Yes. An anomaly has arisen. It’s a situation I’ve never experienced, so I’m quite bewildered.”
Melverot truly seemed shaken.
When Dereck looked toward Kalimford, he saw that his already gaunt face had turned completely pale.
“I too… it’s the first time I’ve faced something like this… I feel like my mind has gone blank… Damn it… what am I supposed to do…? I’ve never felt so helpless…”
An anomaly capable of driving two 6-star mages into panic.
At that point, Dereck couldn’t even let out a nervous laugh.
It was an impact difficult to believe.
Swallowing, he asked.
“Could you tell me… what exactly happened?”
“Siern… caught a cold.”
“…?”
