Chapter 8
In the world of mages, hierarchy is determined by Circles.
Mages were one of the few professions in the aristocratic world where relationships of superiority and inferiority were determined by pure ability rather than status or rank.
In that sense, Thesalos Walcher had just heard the greatest insult of his entire life.
-Unremarkable.
‘What do you mean, unremarkable? Is he saying a mage is no better than a piece of shit?’
Mages were addressed according to their Circle.
A First Circle mage was a Mana Walker.
A Second Circle mage was a Spell Blower.
A Third Circle mage was a Magic Walker.
And only after reaching the Fourth Circle could one finally be called a ‘mage.’
It was the stage at which one was treated as a true mage from the name alone.
‘What? A mere Mana Walker brat dares say “unremarkable”?’
What kind of position did the First Circle hold?
It was nothing more than the lowest rung, beneath not only the Third Circle but even the Second Circle, to whom one had to show the utmost deference.
And someone like that had called a Fourth Circle mage unremarkable.
Unremarkable.
Unremarkableunremarkableunremarkableunremarkable.
That single word became a dragon’s reverse scale in Thesalos’s mind.
The Circle in his lower abdomen spun tautly.
He was on the verge of launching magic at any moment.
He could have lost his reason and attacked outright, but Ferda had just made an offer Thesalos could be grateful for.
A mere First Circle mage had challenged him to a duel.
Thesalos intended to show him his place.
To duel with magic, they had come out to the clearing.
The two stood apart, each making his preparations.
“There’s something I’m curious about. May I ask?”
Thesalos answered curtly.
“What?”
“What kind of magic do you wield?”
Thesalos shot back as though the question were absurd.
“Asking about magic in a mage’s duel? Isn’t that rather rude?”
“Was that rude? Hmm, sorry. It’s been a long time since I’ve dueled.”
The words were something no First Circle mage could utter, and Thesalos was dumbfounded.
‘What kind of arrogant little brat is this!?’
At that moment, Thesalos made a vow.
He would pour out everything he had and kill that bastard.
Ferda, for his part, was paying no attention to Thesalos.
‘Yes, I’m starting to remember now.’
It had been more than twenty years since Ferda had last fought a duel.
That was understandable, since the last duel he remembered had ended badly.
The mage whose pride had been crushed after losing to Ferda had come in a group in the dead of night and ambushed him.
After that, Ferda had never again believed in the words ‘fair duel,’ and killed anyone the moment they showed signs of wanting to fight.
That was why he had forgotten the rules of a duel.
‘A mage’s duel is like playing cards behind a curtain.’
Neither side could gauge what cards the other held or how many, and they simply laid them down one at a time.
It was a game that required theory, skill, and wisdom.
‘As a mage who has reached the Fourth Circle, he should be able to use at least eight spells in a single battle. He can use Fourth-Tier magic as well.’
Tiered magic was magic that could only be used by those who had reached a particular Circle.
Thesalos was a Fourth Circle mage, so he could use Fourth-Tier magic.
He would also have several times Ferda’s mana, at the very least.
‘It would be like striking a rock with an egg.’
Ferda already knew that everything was in Thesalos’s favor.
However, Ferda had never once thought he would lose.
‘I’m not foolish enough to lose to an unremarkable mage.’
That was what Ferda thought.
“Since the handicap is obvious, I’ll tell you one thing.”
Thesalos said it with a sardonic smile.
There was no reason not to listen when the other side was offering information.
“What?”
“I, Thesalos Walcher, will use Magic Blast here. I trust that any mage would know what that spell is.”
The lords who had come to watch were more surprised than Ferda himself, and whispered among themselves.
“Magic Blast…”
“Isn’t that a powerful spell focused purely on firepower?”
It was a Fourth-Tier spell devoted purely to destructive power.
Because of its exceptional destructive force, it was easy for another Fourth Circle mage to counter.
But that did not apply to mages below that level.
Especially not to a First Circle mage like Ferda, who had no hope at all.
That was what Thesalos was saying:
-Submit even now, you bastard.
“Hmm, is that so?”
Ferda tilted his head, then nodded as though he understood.
“I see. Then I’ll tell you one thing as well. The only magic I can use is ‘Mana Shot.’”
“Mana Shot? Do you think you can beat me with something that basic?”
Ferda answered, waving a hand dismissively.
“Ah, you needn’t worry about me. Unlike you people, I know a great deal.”
“This green little brat…!”
The aura surrounding Thesalos roiled violently.
“I’ll make you vanish from this land without a trace!”
Even amid that murderous atmosphere, none of it reached Ferda.
‘He has a Red Circle too.’
There was only one explanation for becoming stronger after shattering his composure and drawing out his emotions.
He was a mage cut from the same cloth as Ferda.
He, too, had trained in magic on the foundation of an inferiority complex.
‘This feels somehow familiar.’
Ferda definitely knew this feeling.
Like a chopstick buried deep inside a bottle.
It was a feeling that seemed within reach of his fingertip, yet remained just beyond it.
Something kept tickling at the edges of Ferda’s memory.
‘I’ll put it off until later. For now, I need to focus on magic.’
Even so, this was a battle between a First and Fourth Circle mage.
Ferda had already gauged his own capabilities and reviewed them.
‘An ordinary First Circle mage can create a total of three Mana Shot spheres.’
That was only because they were unfamiliar with magic, which weakened their concentration and senses.
‘I can create six.’
If he did not want to feel the aftereffects of depleted mana, five was his limit.
So he had five chances.
“Hraaagh!”
The intensified flow of mana condensed in Thesalos’s palm.
The condensed mana swirled and drew a large circle.
The circle of a magic array.
The pictographic characters inside it were drawn based on what Thesalos had memorized.
Ferda felt it in the wind brushing against his cheek.
The killing intent was ominous.
‘The output… he intends to kill me outright.’
But it did not matter.
If that killing intent never reached its target, it was meaningless.
Just as Thesalos had declared that he would end it with one blow, Ferda intended to end it with this one blow as well.
Ferda formed mana spheres at an even faster speed than Thesalos.
One on each finger, a total of five spheres rested above his hand.
Even as Ferda’s attack was completed, Thesalos’s Magic Blast was still being drawn.
“It’s decided.”
Ferda said,
“I’ve won.”
With Ferda’s declaration of victory, the five spheres flew toward Thesalos.
Five parabolic arcs shot toward Thesalos.
“What…!”
Thesalos was startled at the sight, and before he could even finish speaking, Ferda’s attack was over.
Bang!
Boom-boom-boom!
Thud!
Four explosions and one dull impact rang out from Thesalos’s position.
The dirt in the clearing surged upward, and dust spread thickly through the air.
A short while later, everyone there could see the result.
“Ugh…”
Thesalos, who had been chanting over his magic array, sat there and groaned.
His right hand, which he clutched, was swollen bright red.
Trembling, Thesalos looked at Ferda and spoke in a low voice.
“I’ve lost…”
The cocky First Circle youngster, Ferda, had won.
* * *
Thesalos now faced a truly astonishing situation.
He replayed the scenes he had been unable to understand at the time.
‘The Mana Shot that flew toward my face.’
The sphere manifested from Ferda’s middle finger had flown toward Thesalos’s eye.
If one’s head was pierced, anyone would die without exception.
But under ordinary circumstances, it was not easy to fluster a mage.
Even if it was a Red Circle mage, their spell would break if their concentration was shattered.
But a projectile flying toward the eye was different.
It was a situation in which any human being would inevitably panic.
So Thesalos had deployed defensive magic while chanting.
He was a Fourth Circle mage capable of attacking and defending at the same time.
The three projectiles he thought would fly toward his torso should have been blocked by his defensive magic as expected.
‘He wasn’t aiming for my torso, but the magic array.’
Instead, they exploded in front of the magic array and destroyed it while it was still taking shape.
‘He destroyed the magic array…’
Thesalos felt a sense of wonder at that.
If a magic array was not constructed perfectly, it contained something known as a magical blind spot.
If an explosion occurred precisely at that blind spot, the array’s effect could be reduced.
But reducing it was one thing; destroying it was an entirely different matter.
That man was using a technical feat that only a mage of at least the Fifth Circle could perceive and perform.
Having destroyed the magic array as well,
‘He finished with a low-output Mana Shot to the back of my right hand.’
Lowering the output meant that he had not intended to kill him.
At the same time, it meant that if he had wished to, Thesalos would have died.
Everything pointed to Ferda’s complete victory, and even Thesalos, whose blood had rushed to his head, had no choice but to acknowledge his defeat.
The result was clear enough that even those who knew nothing about magic could understand it.
‘How could a First Circle mage defeat a Fourth Circle mage?’
‘Did he use some sort of trick? Because he couldn’t let the consort die…’
‘The only one capable of using such a trick would be…’
They cautiously turned their heads, wondering whether the dragon had intervened.
Luri, who felt their gazes, glared at them with her silver eyes.
“Would you kindly look away before I pluck those eyes out?”
“Eek!”
“Ahem!”
Luri openly expressed her disgust.
Unlike Ferda, she had no need to observe formalities with them.
“Will you accept defeat?”
“…I accept defeat.”
Thesalos laughed heartily and said,
“I never expected to see a master of this caliber here. The world truly is vast.”
Thesalos bowed politely and acknowledged Ferda’s skill.
“Your skill is also exceptional compared to other Fourth Circle mages. I’m truly relieved that we have someone of your caliber on our side.”
“Hahaha… It’s an honor to meet such a master outside the capital. Being demoted wasn’t entirely bad, after all.”
Ferda’s body jerked at those words.
“…Did you say you were demoted?”
“That’s right.”
“For political reasons?”
“Yes.”
Words swirled through Ferda’s mind.
A Red Circle mage.
A demotion for political reasons.
And an inferiority complex.
Similar mana.
A desire for revenge.
“What did you say your name was?”
“I’m Thesalos Walcher.”
Only then did Ferda understand.
“Thesalos Walcher… Yes… I finally remember.”
“You know me?”
A question mark seemed to appear above Thesalos’s head.
He searched his memory, wondering whether they had met before, but there was no connection to speak of between House Rosnova and himself.
Yet Ferda nodded.
“I know you. You are my benefactor.”
“Your benefactor…? When did we ever meet?”
“Not in the past. This is a story from the distant future.”
“The distant future? What in the world does that—”
Bang—!
The words never continued.
A large hole had opened in Thesalos’s head.
Ferda’s index finger was aimed at that hole.
He had pierced Thesalos’s forehead with Mana Shot.
“Therefore, I can’t let you live.”
* * *
Those who had watched Ferda’s actions were left utterly stunned.
Ferda had killed a noble.
No one could deliberately murder a noble, and even the Grand Duke Valdrowa’s fiancé could not be forgiven for such a thing.
How could he commit such a heinous act?
It was something that ought to be condemned and denounced.
Yet Ferda had ample reason.
‘Thesalos had been trying to kill him too…’
‘Was it… self-defense?’
The lords knew what Thesalos had been trying to do.
He had chanted a powerful Fourth-Tier spell out of personal feelings, one strong enough to kill the consort.
The fact that Ferda had executed him outside a duel was a blemish on him.
Under normal circumstances, they would have been piranhas eagerly tearing into him, but the lords merely looked at one another.
Their thoughts were perfectly aligned.
Who among us rats is going to bell that cat?
Ferda, who had killed Thesalos, turned his head.
Blood splashed onto Ferda’s face as Thesalos’s forehead was pierced, and it was clearly visible.
An expression devoid of even a trace of emotion, and blood.
Those elements sent a chill through every lord.
Ferda, for his part, had no idea.
He had no mental capacity to worry about such a thing.
‘I feel dizzy.’
He had used every last bit of mana in his body.
The difference between leaving one percent behind and reaching zero was enormous.
Ferda had poured out everything without leaving himself the slightest margin, and now felt the backlash as a headache and dizziness.
It was difficult even to remain conscious, which made it hard to control his expression.
His face plainly looked like that of a man who was irritated.
“Why are you all looking at me like that?”
“Uh… th-that’s…”
Their eyes slid toward Thesalos.
Only then did Ferda understand.
“Ah, is it because of Thesalos? Don’t concern yourself. He was someone who had done something deserving of death.”
He could barely keep himself upright, as though he were drunk.
The muscles in his face twitched.
“Had he been left alive, he would have done something that would have made the Grand Duke sad.”
“T-The Grand Duke?”
“Yes. The Grand Duke is a merciful person. She likes humans and fights for them.”
At that moment, another headache surged up.
It was so intense that his usually expressionless face twisted into a fierce scowl.
It was enough to make them mistake it for an expression of disgust.
“I hate people who make her sad.”
“Do you mean someone from House Walcher made her that way?”
“No, it was only because he was certain to make her that way.”
The lords were even more confused by the answer.
‘W-What the hell is he talking about?’
‘Certain to make her that way? Then he didn’t even do it.’
‘Is the Grand Duke’s consort a complete lunatic?!’
They sweated coldly at his utterly unpredictable behavior.
Ferda sensed their fear.
Worried that they might misunderstand him, he emphasized his intention once more.
“Don’t worry. I truly don’t care even the slightest bit about what you do.”
Seriously.
Who was going to bell that mad cat?