Chapter 546 - Deception (4)
Mages, in most cases, pursue achievements that will earn them heated attention in the world of magic. The desire for recognition is, after all, one of humanity's basic instincts.
In that sense, Lucard Maniacs was a Mage who had once tasted success early.
When he presented his first theory through the Bohemirn Magic Tower, he was barely in his early thirties, and at the lower ranks of the 4th-tier.
Compared to his peers, his growth rate was considerably fast. Although his tier limit was 5th-tier, it was not considered a major flaw. In terms of magical talent, he was at least a prodigy, if not a genius.
And with the creativity and intellectual prowess to design the Multi-dimensional Continuity Theory, it was no wonder the world hailed him as a Genius.
Thus, when the Transcendent, Balrog Bessias, publicly announced that he would take him as his third official disciple, no one found it unreasonable.
With the Bohemirn Magic Tower at his back, Lucard traveled across the continent — the Academy, magic cities, the Empire, and the Confederation — spreading the Multi-dimensional Continuity Theory far and wide.
He felt as though the world revolved around him.
But in the ruthless world of magic, a single accomplishment is never enough to maintain one's name.
Proof must be continuous.
Click.
After finishing his lecture on the "Reversible Approach of the Origin of Elements" in the high district of the magic city, Virente, Lucard stepped into the guest chamber.
His body trembled, his fist clenched tightly.
"Shit, shit, shit…!"
As he spat curses, his mind was consumed with thoughts of the past.
He had tried to create a theory comparable to, or even surpassing, the Multi-dimensional Continuity Theory that everyone expected of him, yet failed time and again.
No, even the word failure was too generous. He had never even reached the starting point. If nothing came to mind, what was there to work on?
Moreover, being taken in by an omnipotent Transcendent did not mean his daily life transformed dramatically.
As the tower master's disciple, he was given the minimum opportunities to receive some instruction, some time and funds for personal research, and the chance to attend trivial public events.
That was all.
The upper echelons of the Magic Tower gave Lucard only the bare minimum, and unlike with other disciples, showed no particular interest in him.
Still, he believed that once he succeeded in his second proof, everything would change, so he poured his heart and soul into his magical research.
For a full eight years.
Then, at the end of the year before last, he finally managed to complete and publish a new magical thesis. Yet the magic world only stroked their beards and tilted their heads.
It was well-written, yes, but compared to the Multi-dimensional Continuity Theory, it was far from groundbreaking.
The prevailing judgment was that it was not bad, but a step backward compared to before.
That reaction was no different from the one he had just faced from the crowd at his lecture — polite applause in front, but disappointment whispered behind.
…He had tried to ignore it all this time, but he could no longer deny it.
Lucard had merely understood the Multi-dimensional Continuity Theory, but had not digested its essence. That was the limit of his talent.
I should never have stolen the theory.
Lucard bit his lip.
"I should have clung to that bastard Verden from the start, and drained him dry over time. Damn it. I was blinded for just a moment…"
Verden, a mere 1st-tier with no potential, a lowly researcher at the Bohemirn Magic Tower.
Lucard had only treated him decently because he was handy as an errand boy. Then one day, that dimwit came seeking someone to actually prove his magical theory.
But his terrifying magical comprehension was real.
He systematically taught Lucard the Multi-dimensional Continuity Theory from beginning to end, and ultimately made him understand it in its entirety.
In just a few months, Lucard had gained one more elemental attribute he could cast. That was proof enough.
Originally, they had planned to prepare all the data thoroughly, then submit it to the Bohemirn Magic Tower as co-authors.
But Lucard betrayed him, as if he had been waiting for that moment.
He wasn't stupid enough to share the glory with some pathetic 1st-tier Mage!
Such selfishness was natural in a competitive society.
Later, he heard that Verden had claimed the theory as his own, only to be branded a thief and fall into disgrace. Lucard couldn't care less.
In fact, he welcomed it.
If Verden left the tower, or even killed himself in despair, then the Multi-dimensional Continuity Theory would belong to Lucard alone…
Now, of course, his thoughts had changed, but it was far too late.
Because Verden had already been caught up in the mana reactor runaway incident, and disappeared without a trace.
"That naïve fool… I could have coaxed him so easily…!"
The regret drove him mad.
Lucard clutched his head, muttering endlessly, when—
Creaaak.
The door suddenly opened with a sound.
Someone entered, cloaked and armored in dark garb that concealed their identity, and spoke to Lucard in a low voice.
"So, you're the thief."
"What the hell are you…?"
───Thud!
A heavy kick slammed into his unguarded abdomen.
His eyes and mouth flew wide open.
Lucard was hurled across the room and crashed into the wall, then collapsed in a heap.
"Ghhhk, urk, kkgh."
He couldn't breathe.
Ordinary Mages were defenseless against direct violence. Saliva dribbled uncontrollably from his lips.
Adrian grabbed him with one hand, easily lifting him off the ground.
"To think you'd be subdued by a single kick. And you're supposed to be a disciple of Balrog Bessias? Even if it's just for show, you're weaker than the guards outside."
"Khk…"
"My lord said you're nothing more than an ornament to decorate Bohemirn Magic Tower's façade. Seems he was right."
Even as the biting mockery landed, Lucard had no strength to parse the words. He barely clung to consciousness, his eyes darting around.
Blood trickled in through the crack of the door. Uproar in the magic city. Only then did he realize what was happening.
"You, you… are you insane? You dare… against Bohemirn Magic Tower…!"
"The insane one is you, stealing the Multi-dimensional Continuity Theory without knowing your place."
"…What?!"
Lucard's pupils shook violently, as if to say — how could you possibly know that?
Adrian's face hardened.
"Your fate will be decided by my lord. So shut your mouth from now on."
Wham!
Adrian's knee smashed into Lucard's ribs. His body went limp as consciousness fled instantly.
Hoisting Lucard over his shoulder, Adrian left the room, passing by the corpses of Mages, Maron among them, as he recalled the escape route.
Just as he was about to exit the building, he sensed a presence in the corridor leading to the lecture hall.
"…Ah."
Icar de Esperanza.
Having witnessed the Magic Association being attacked, he had realized the severity of the situation and was on his way to a safe zone. He inhaled sharply.
A suspicious, masked intruder. A man carrying someone over his shoulder — the familiar robes unmistakably belonged to Lucard Maniacs.
And there was also the faint smell of blood stinging his nose.
He must be an accomplice of those attacking the Magic Association!
Icar immediately reached into his robes. Not to save Lucard.
Whether by coincidence or not, he had run into a terrorist, and there was no way such a man would let him live if he did nothing.
But contrary to his fears, today Icar would not suffer any harm.
Their target was only the Bohemirn Magic Tower.
Icar drew his staff and aimed straight ahead. But there was no one there. Somehow, Adrian was already standing at his side.
Cold sweat ran down his back. A whisper brushed past his ear.
"Tell Bohemirn Magic Tower this."
Footsteps faded behind him.
"Lucard Maniacs. The third disciple of Balrog Bessias, will be taken by Black Hour."
As soon as the words ended, that overwhelming presence vanished completely.
Silence descended.
Icar exhaled raggedly, lowering his staff.
"…At least I survived."
Of all things, to think it would be that infamous Black Hour. He honestly thought he was going to die, but it was unexpected that they passed him by.
Guess I wasn't even worth their attention. Should I call that fortunate?
Well, regardless.
He had lived, and that was enough.
When he returned to the Kingdom of Estiria, he would have one more story to tell.
***
The conference hall, located at the heart of the Magic Association's largest building.
Four senior members of the Magic Association were in the middle of discussions regarding the tier breakthrough incident, joined by three delegates from Helion Magic Tower, Ostea Magic Tower, and Bohemirn Magic Tower. Their gazes froze on a single point.
"Suddenly, why is that…?"
Through the massive windows bathed in sunlight, they could see one of the security towers collapsing. Repeated explosions and tremors shook the building itself.
It was a sudden, unforeseen development that left them all stunned.
Then, a powerful shockwave surged in from afar, heavily damaging the outer buildings responsible for defending the Association's southern perimeter.
Siege magic.
Association mages rushed to respond to the uproar, but they could not hold back the steadily advancing, unidentified group.
The security of the Magic Association had been neutralized.
Only then did Gotric, the Bohemirn Magic Tower's delegate, snap out of it. He jumped to his feet as though seized by a fit, shouting.
"A, an attack! Quickly, we must evacuate…! No, wait. More importantly, where is the Association President? And where is the Ostea tower master right now?!"
"T-they are both… having lunch in the southern district…"
The southern district was a considerable distance away from the Magic Association's location.
Even if they realized the situation immediately and set off at once, it would still take several minutes before they could arrive.
"Whoever dared to challenge the Association, we can hold them off, even rout them if needed! I will go out there myself—"
One of the Association's advisors raised his voice with confidence, but the situation escalated far more quickly than expected.
A foreign shadow drew near.
The conference hall's glass windows shattered as intruders burst inside.
Black robes.
All of them wore identical attire, marked with the same sigil — an inverted triangle, and at its center, a chilling, solitary eye.
"D-death mages… why… why are they… here…?"
The advisor who had so confidently declared he would repel them now blanched, lips trembling uncontrollably out of instinct.
The same was true for the others.
The seven mages present at the meeting turned pale as death.
From the unit assigned to the magic city, the selected mage squad of twenty-five, minus Adrian.
While twenty bought time outside, five had succeeded in entering the conference hall.
At their head, Grave Rudworth spoke in a voice laced with killing intent.
"Not long ago, the Western Continent's magic tower alliance acted far too arrogantly."
Just a few months earlier, the tower alliance had assaulted a Black Hour stronghold, killing a lower-ranking officer and inflicting grievous damage.
That had been during the time Verden infiltrated the Grand Hall to secure the [Hourglass of Perpetuity], with the Society drawing Dahit's attention as a diversion — though that truth was hidden in the shadows.
To the world, however, it gave Black Hour every justification to exact revenge on the tower alliance.
"Message from Lord Darkmoon."
This was deception.
A calculated ploy to reinforce the belief that their enemy, who sought to threaten and annihilate the Western Continent's tower alliance — Bohemirn Magic Tower included — was still Darkmoon, Dahit Wethroel.
"Repay them."
At that command, four of Black Hour's elite mages flared with magic.
Spells surged through the conference hall.
As the startled council members scrambled back and hastily prepared to defend, Grave lunged toward his target.
"Black Hour, you vermin!!"
Gotric raised
Pathetic.
Grave slipped easily through the gaps, drew a crude dagger, and slashed upward from below.
Stab! Stab! Stab!
The blade pierced belly and chest in cruel succession, then reversed grip and swept horizontally in a brutal arc.
Scarlet blood sprayed along its path, staining walls and floor. Gotric clutched desperately at his neck, but the bleeding was far too severe.
"Ghhhk, n-no, I… I can't… die like this… I still… have… so much… to…!"
Gotric.
Before he was Bohemirn Magic Tower's delegate, he had been a tower insider, conducting unofficial human experiments on mana circuits.
Looking down at him, Grave's eyes gleamed murderously beneath his hood. He raised his arm.
Crack.
The dagger shattered his neck bone.
Gotric, who had dreamt of experimenting on mages seeking tier breakthroughs, was executed for all to see.
***
Meanwhile, somewhere in the Western Continent.
It had not been long since Verden escaped the alliance's frontline and, without slowing, began scouting eastward.
He now descended to the ground in a vast natural expanse, where a small river ran through the center, surrounded on all sides by uneven green hills.
"..."
Verden stared blankly at the colossal stone mountain before him, its peak so high it seemed to touch the clouds.
A sensation, faint yet undeniable — as though something was there, and yet not.
Ordinarily, he might have passed it by. But with the [Pupil of Mahram] active and his senses heightened to their limits, he could not ignore it.
[Your Majesty Verden. Is this the place?]
"Perhaps. Whether it's my imagination or not, we'll only know once we confirm."
[Confirming.]
Alpha pulled an accessory out from under his robe's collar — a necklace shaped like an eye. It swayed faintly.
Verden spoke.
"See, hear, and discern."
As he uttered the activation phrase, the [Pupil of Mahram] floated slowly into the air, its lid lifting.
The grotesque gaze fixed on the ominous stone mountain, and something stirred in response. Countless streams of information surged into Verden's vision.
He could see it.
The entrance, concealed and shielded by an intricate weave of a Transcendent's unique magic circles. The inner chambers within the mountain.
One of Bohemirn Magic Tower's unofficial external laboratories.
Verden's shoulders shook faintly.
A laugh, tinged with tangled emotions, drifted on the air.
Mana condensed within his azure eyes.
"…Found it."
From subspace, Verden summoned [Interis].