Chapter 396 - Incomprehensible (1)
There is no room for debate that the worst disaster in the history of the Bohemirn magic tower was the runaway of the power source.
The loss of treasures, including the artificial artifact [Second Circuit].
The annihilation of research materials and reagents of immeasurable value.
Even members near the mid-levels of the magic tower—dozens of high-level Mages, all of whom were involved in unofficial experiments—were exposed to high-density magic power and completely disintegrated.
There was no exception among them.
Even a 5th-tier Magus could not respond and was erased...
If not for the Magic Festival, which had dispatched forces of 6th-tier and above as well as senior figures outside, the prevailing opinion was that their bodies would have collapsed entirely, or they would have suffered fatal injuries.
For Rayshen, it was an incident that chilled his very soul.
He had been fortunate enough to be in the upper floors of the magic tower at the time, for had he gone down to take care of personal business, he would have died alongside them.
And precisely because of this, he could not understand.
"Verden, you… you died then, didn't you?"
Missing person number 32.
Yes, that was correct.
In the list of victims who had vanished without a trace due to the runaway of the power source, the three characters "Verden" were brazenly engraved.
It was also the day they had lost a still-useful, and highly competent, test subject in a ridiculous manner, and so he remembered it very clearly.
Retracing his memory, Rayshen murmured blankly.
"I confirmed the circumstances that you went to the mid-level before the incident occurred… was that wrong? Or, since it was Black Hour that caused the runaway of the power source, could it be Black Hour took Verden away? Why? Why? Could it be, to analyze Coercion? But then, how did they even know of Coercion's existence? Even if, by some chance, there was an inside informant, the forced magic circle makes it impossible to betray Master..."
Questions linked endlessly, one after another.
He turned his mind so hard that his forehead grew hot, but it yielded nothing.
Whatever the case, he could not even guess at the reason for "why Verden is alive?" much less discover it.
The astonishment shifted into confusion, confusion into shock, in an instant.
As his complexion shifted several times, Rayshen bit his fingernail.
"This… makes no sense?"
That was Rayshen's limit.
Incomprehensible.
The unknown, which cannot be borne with one's own judgment and understanding.
It was because his capacity was insufficient.
For a proud, lofty Mage, it would indeed be a severe shock. For one of the exalted authorities of the great Bohemirn magic tower, all the more so.
Thus the only conclusion Rayshen could finally reach was singular.
"You're a fake."
It was outright denial.
"I don't know how you know about 'Experiment Subject No. 77'. Nor do I know why you are disguising yourself in Verden's form. But fine, if your goal was to surprise me, then it worked. For Verden, who died long ago, to suddenly appear? And here, in this underground pit… truly beyond expectation."
He refused to believe the reality before his eyes, and avoided it.
That was the truth, yet Rayshen would never acknowledge it.
For the hypothesis he had constructed in his own mind, he already deemed it the truth. This was the instinctive impulse of a Mage, unable to admit his own inadequacy.
"..."
Verden remained silent, but in truth, he could not have been more delighted.
And how could he not?
Barely three years ago, he had not been able even to touch the hem of such a being's robes, not even allowed to raise his head to look, yet now, that very being was showing such disgraceful conduct.
'Truly, laughably pitiful.'
Verden rose from the rock he had been leaning on.
At that instant, Rayshen, cutting off his words midway, swiftly aimed his staff.
In his own mind, he had seized upon a weakness.
The darkness of the underground retreated.
A blinding blue radiance surged straight forward. Verden, without even thinking to dodge, merely focused magic power at his fingertips and spread a ripple outward.
Swept up by it, the trajectory of the lightning spell veered aside and struck an irrelevant point.
Magic control.
"What the───"
KWAaaaaaANG!
Immediately after, a fierce shockwave struck Rayshen's head directly.
Barely managing to steady his body as he was flung away, Rayshen landed on both feet, but dizziness made his vision spin, and he dropped one knee to the ground, hand pressed to the earth.
Drip, drop.
Blood fell.
It was from the torn inside of his cheek, ripped when his teeth had clashed.
A metallic taste spread across his mouth.
'What is that magic?'
The shield of [Immaculate Robe] had shattered in a single blow.
Though its defensive power was not the highest, it was still not something that could be damaged by a mere 3rd-tier spell like
'Could it be… spatial?'
The highest-ranked attribute, which few on the entire continent could wield.
Rayshen lifted his gaze.
In his green eyes, unable to hide his dismay, Verden was reflected.
And Verden was already standing at Isabella's side.
He turned his head slightly.
Meeting the bewildered gaze of Isabella—missing her left arm, her body weary, not understanding any of this—he spoke quietly.
"You said it yourself. That you wished those kinds of people would die. That they should suffer so much they'd regret being born."
"...!"
"I think the same."
Summoning Orient, Verden walked toward Rayshen.
Then stopped about thirty paces ahead.
"Mages are, for the most part, ones who prepare."
Tapping the ground lightly with his staff, the entirety of the Slothful Rift pulsed.
Kugugugugugu…!
The encircling walls began to collapse.
Naturally, the magic circles Rayshen had set up unraveled.
As Rayshen was being driven back, the terrain Verden had specially created through
A vast underground cavern, newly formed beneath the rift.
Through cracks in the ceiling, pale yellow sunlight barely filtered through, carefully illuminating the darkness.
Verden snapped his fingers.
"Ugh…!"
Manipulating the terrain, he shifted the collapsed Isabella to beyond the boundary of the cavern.
A safe spot, perfect for observing the battle of magic that was about to unfold.
"Here, Rayshen, you will not lack for space to unleash everything you have. Though, I think it a little too extravagant for your grave."
"What?"
"And besides this, I have prepared much more."
Flickering blue eyes.
In his right eye, the magic circle of Defying the Heavens surfaced, as spells activated instantly one after another. Empowering enchantments spanning the 5th and 6th tiers greatly amplified his physical ability.
Then Verden warned.
"So do not give up too easily."
Their reunion ended there.
Shifting his weight forward, Verden shattered the ground beneath his feet.
***
Though Rayshen maintained the outward appearance of his late teens through his Mado and experiments, his true age had surpassed fifty.
The eldest among Balrog's disciples.
Even so, he addressed Crodon as elder brother purely due to hierarchy, a reflection of the mental distortions from the side-effects of delaying aging.
The key point here, was that Rayshen had lived a span comparable to the elders.
In a magical duel, he was a master of ice and lightning spells.
Additionally, he could wield at will several unique magic circles imparted to him directly by the tower master.
And the amount of knowledge that Rayshen had amassed over a lifetime of obsession and greed, was easily counted on one hand even within the magic tower.
Especially befitting a member of the Bohemirn magic tower, which encompassed all elements, he knew every piece of information on existing elemental magic and had even mastered countermeasures.
A deep blue bird exploded in midair, scattering bolts of lightning in every direction.
Rayshen, dodging the massive boulder that pierced through the flashes, focused his mind. Ignoring the noise rising from below, he swung his staff smoothly, like a conductor leading an orchestra.
Kwa-gwagwagwang! Kwa-gwagwang! Jjeojeojeojeojjeok!
Verdan's elemental magic rained down ceaselessly, and Rayshen blocked each one without error.
What he could not block, he evaded through swift maneuvers. But as he floated in the air, his expression twisted.
"Tch…!"
This was not the battle he wanted.
He had intended to dispose of the obstruction in the shortest possible time and then flee, but even while fighting at full strength, the duel had turned into a stalemate.
And so, if he turned his back here, the situation would be overturned in an instant.
'I've never heard of someone like this among Black Hour's executive ranks…!'
No, the Magus blocking his way was bad enough, but worse still was the thought of reinforcements arriving later.
If he was held down here, he might truly die.
Rayshen, still believing Society and Verden to be part of Black Hour, could not hide his anxiety.
But it was needless worry.
Verdan had no thought of accepting help from anyone.
This place was an execution ground.
"…?!"
A powerful gravitational pull seized Rayshen.
He resisted for a moment, but in the end, failed to break free, his body dragged forward.
The distance between them closed.
In his mind, Rayshen completed the calculations for a composite spell, then swung his arm with all his might.
Even a graze would electrocute, and a direct hit meant instant death.
But here was the first thing Rayshen overlooked.
Verdan, in just over two years, had accumulated battle experience against countless strong ones—even Transcendents—an experience far surpassing Rayshen, who had buried himself in the magic tower, restoring data and conducting his own experiments.
Swaeeaek───!
Verdan lowered his posture to the extreme, stepped forward, and spun.
Flowing like water, he dodged the strike, and his left hand pressed against Rayshen's abdomen.
An internal shockwave, unleashed without restraint, churned Rayshen's organs and blood.
"Ku…ah…"
Blood poured from his gaping mouth.
An agony that felt as though his entire body were being crushed… the sheer impact rendered his magic resistance meaningless, and his pupils quaked like an earthquake.
"A good look on you. Much more fitting than that smug face in the unofficial lab."
Murderous intent gleamed in Verden's eyes as he gripped Orient with both hands.
Here was the second thing Rayshen had overlooked.
Verdan's true strength.
KWAaaaaaaANG!
A torrent of gravity smashed into Rayshen's upper body directly.
The physical resistance of the artifact [Immaculate Robe] and other magical items was utterly insufficient to withstand it.
With his ribs cracked in several places, Rayshen was hurled into the bottom of the cavern.
***
Dust choked the air.
Groaning, Rayshen clawed his way out of the pit, barely shoving aside the heavy debris.
His organs seemed overturned, the nausea showing no sign of abating, so he hastily pulled a special potion from his spatial bag and drained it in one gulp.
"Gghrk…!!"
His body temperature spiked, and the pain hammering his nerves slowly ebbed away. Once somewhat recovered, Rayshen turned his back.
Verdan, who had landed on the ground, was watching him calmly.
Rayshen's eyes twitched.
"You… without Dahit, you're nothing, and yet you dare…!"
His entire body was a gesture of rage and scorn.
'And yet he still thinks I'm Black Hour.'
Verdan sneered at Rayshen's narrow vision and folly.
"Rayshen, do you remember the very first words you spoke to me?"
"When would I ever have seen you───"
"When I had just become an unofficial test subject, you said it yourself. That you would 'correct me on what attitude a test subject should have'. Then, you cut off my pinky finger."
It was the time when Verden, forcibly branded with the compulsory magic circle, had suddenly become a test subject and was trembling in fear.
Rayshen, literally, stole one of his fingers, then handed him a potion recipe.
He whispered that if Verden brewed it within a time limit, he would reattach the severed finger.
Even as he screamed in terrible pain, terrified of losing his finger forever, Verden poured all his effort into making the potion.
If he succeeded, Rayshen would cut it off again, then hand him another recipe.
If he failed, another finger would be severed—a cruel lesson.
By the time four of his fingers were cut, and Verden broke down weeping in despair, Rayshen had giggled as he reattached them.
The feeling of one's life toyed with completely by another.
The fear and pain of that time were still engraved in Verden's memory.
"That was an experiment I conducted personally. How do you know it in such detail?"
Then, as if the thought finally connected, Rayshen jerked his head up, his eyes wide.
A gaze that said it was impossible to believe.
"Wait. You, you're really Verden…?"
"Remembering that time, I suddenly grew curious."
Verdan gathered his magic power.
At the tip of Orient, a blade of magic power formed.
"If it were you who had your fingers cut, I wonder what reaction you'd show."
Verdan rose from the ground and shot forward through the air.
Seeing him, Rayshen quickly wove a magic circle with both hands and thrust it forward.
A high-level binding circle. Restrain.
A wave of countless chains of magic power.
It could not hold him long, but at least it would buy a moment's time.
In that time, Rayshen intended to ready his trump card.
But it was a miscalculation.
The spatially imbued blade split the chains and tore the magic circle apart.
"?!"
Panicking, Rayshen scrambled to compute another spell. At the same moment, Verden swung Orient as he rushed past.
Thudududuk.
Rayshen's right hand, all fingers save the thumb, were severed and fell to the ground.
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