Chapter 23
Chapter 23
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: A Brutal Demonstration
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A few days later.
Putting the matter with Sephia behind him, Dale faced the ‘Tower’s Trial’ on the 11th floor. Nothing would change.
Sephia was still Dale’s trusted teacher, and to her, he was surely her beloved student.
What happened that day was merely a meaningless incident. Sephia probably wouldn't even recognize it as an ‘incident’ at all. She would likely dismiss it as nothing more than the childish emotions of a ten-year-old boy.
In times like these, it was quite a complicated feeling, not knowing whether to appreciate being in a child's body.
‘Nothing will change.’
He muttered, as if admonishing himself. The Black Magic Tower's trial was no different. It was simply about proving his existence as the most rightful heir to the Master of the Black Magic Tower.
Every single moment of the trials on the lower floors was broadcast through a magical projector, and it went without saying who held everyone's attention.
The prodigy of the ducal house and the son of Lord Black. Himself.
As chilling cold and refined dark magic flickered over his palm, Dale froze his mind.
The 11th floor.
A place where a mage's full power was permitted, along with artifacts, grimoires, and every available item.
A place where the Life Point Necklace could not guarantee the challenger's life and safety one hundred percent.
Thanks to that, Dale's heart was surprisingly light as he faced the trial itself.
There was no need to hide himself, no need to ‘be considerate’ of his opponent. It was a liberating sensation, as if heavy shackles had finally been removed.
In the windless room, the cloak Dale wore began to flutter in all directions.
The Shadow Cloak, an artifact of darkness that could be called Dale's prized possession.
‘Now that I've reached the 3rd circle, just how much of the Shadow Cloak's potential can I draw out?’
Following the shadows of the cloak's hem, the darkness at his feet began to run wild.
‘The mages of the tower are different from the knights of our ducal house.’
Dale recalled the advice Duke Sachsen had given him just before he began the tower's trial.
‘To them, the tower itself is not an object of loyalty, but merely a ladder for their own ambitions.’
As both a father and the tower master who reigned at the pinnacle of the magic tower.
‘Then what do you think is necessary to earn the tower's loyalty?’
‘What is it?’
‘Fear.’
Fear.
That was why he had put on such a performance in the ‘Life Point Scramble’ on the 1st floor.
The fear born from an overwhelming gap in power that none would dare defy.
One cannot rule without reigning.
To Dale, Duke Sachsen was a sometimes strict, yet endlessly kind and considerate father. But to those of the Black Magic Tower, and to those outside the North, the infamous reputation of the name ‘Lord Black’ was a matter of course.
Furthermore, the fates of those who had opposed House Sachsen were no exception.
Thus, Dale lifted his head, mulling over his father's advice.
—The Tower's Trial, 11th floor. The form of the trial was a ‘Magic Duel Tournament’.
Like the first trial on the 1st floor, the ‘Life Point Scramble’, it was a trial meant to cull the weak.
However, his opponents were no longer academy-level fledglings. Challengers from previous years had joined, creating an arena where one faced the official mages of the Black Magic Tower.
‘Still, they aren't opponents worth making a fuss over.’
In that they were targets to be subjugated through an overwhelming show of power, they were no different. And in that respect, the opponent before Dale surely harbored the same thought.
The top 3-circle master of the Black Magic Tower, Elbert Rosenheim. He, too, was burning with the desire to prove himself by defeating the ‘son of Lord Black’.
At last, as the whistle signaling the start of the magic duel echoed—no, a fraction of a second faster than the whistle blew.
“Dark Arrow.”
Whoosh!
The opposing black mage, Elbert, cast an arrow of darkness with a swift chant.
He had launched an attack spell before the duel had even begun.
A clear foul.
‘Oh? Look at this.’
The blow was so startling that even Dale had to hastily accelerate the circle in his heart.
Even a fraction of a second was more than enough time for a skilled mage to utter several syllables.
A jet-black blade shot out from the Shadow Cloak, deflecting the arrow of darkness.
No sooner had he blocked the one arrow than dozens of Dark Arrows were already drawn on magical bowstrings behind Elbert.
‘...Hoh.’
Endlessly multiplying, the arrows of darkness raged like a storm. Their number far surpassed what a mere 3-circle mage could handle.
And it wasn't difficult to discern their true nature.
‘He's using an amplification-type artifact.’
For a mage skilled enough to pass the 10th floor, it wouldn't be strange to possess a few artifacts.
Though they couldn't possibly compare to the level of House Sachsen's, of course.
“Haha, how do you like this! Young Lord Dale!”
Seizing the tempo of the battle with a false start, he launched a relentless offensive powered by his artifact.
Thwip!
Dale kicked off the ground and dashed away, evading the barrage of arrows that rained down like a bombing run.
‘So that's how you're going to play.’
A bold foul right from the start. Yet there was no signal or sign of anyone stopping the duel.
The spectators didn't understand the significance of this subtle difference, and those skilled enough to understand remained silent, wishing to test Dale.
His opponent, cunningly aware of this fact, was trying to exploit it.
‘This is why I hate mages.’
Knights, who value loyalty to their lord's house as a virtue, and mages, who pursue their own world, are fundamentally different in nature.
A strict meritocracy. A battle of eat or be eaten.
The fact that he was the son of Lord Black was, to them, merely a tool to prove themselves.
“Now, this is the moment! Arise and swear eternal obedience before me!”
At last, seizing the moment while Dale was focused on defense, Elbert began to raise the scattered corpses.
“Servants of a darkness deeper than blood-starved jet black!”
The spell was riddled with the exaggerated modifiers typical of narcissistic mages.
‘I'm getting second-hand embarrassment.’
However, aside from being cringeworthy for the listener and terribly inefficient, the effect was certainly amplified in proportion to its length and adjectives.
The resurrection of the dead, simultaneous with a relentless barrage of black magic arrows powered by the artifact.
In the end, drawing out an artifact's power was also a measure of the caster's ability. The title of top 3-circle master was clearly not just for show.
‘He's better than the fledglings, at least.’
Dale simply continued to focus on defense, remaining silent. It wasn't because he was on the back foot. Though his opponent had unfairly taken the first move, for the battle-hardened Dale, it was all within expectations.
If he so chose, a single Ice Bullet would be enough for Dale to defeat his opponent.
He just wanted to give him a chance. To wait until he had displayed all the power he could muster.
Because destroying the opponent's proof was, in itself, the most definitive proof.
Soon, the undead soldiers, enhanced by the grandiloquent spell, surrounded Dale.
“Attack, my servants of darkness!”
Convinced of his victory, the top 3-circle master, Elbert, raised his voice again.
“...You don't have anything else to show me, do you?”
Dale asked, watching him. Just as the undead kicked off the ground and charged at Dale in unison.
Toward the skulls of the undead charging from all sides, jet-black blades shot up from beneath Dale's feet.
Crack!
They tore through the crevices of their skulls with precision, intending to immobilize the undead.
Smirk.
Elbert Rosenheim wore a sneering smile, as if he'd known this would happen.
“Corpse Explosion.”
Corpse Explosion. With the mutter, the bodies of the immobilized undead exploded right in front of Dale.
“This is the end, Young Lord!”
The flesh, blood, and bones of the undead burst like grenades, scattering everywhere. Tiny, sharp bone fragments that the Shadow Cloak couldn't block rushed toward him.
But it was too late to raise a wall of ice.
A desperate situation.
However, Dale too wore a villainous smile, as if he'd known this would happen.
“...!”
The dark, hazy shadow at his feet blurred and wrapped around Dale's body. His flesh and bone lost their substance and collapsed on the spot.
As if melting into the darkness, into the swarm of shadows writhing at his feet.
A new application of the artifact, the Shadow Cloak.
‘Wraith Form’.
The swarm of shadows on the ground began to surge toward the top 3-circle master before him at a terrifying speed.
—As Lord Helmut had said, in a fight against a mage, distance is life.
Setting aside the fact that Dale himself was a mage.
“H-Hieeek!”
Swirling around Elbert's feet, the swarm of darkness began to take the ‘form of flesh and bone’, regaining its substance.
“A swift chant before the duel even began.”
Right behind him.
“—Isn't it a bit cowardly, against a mere child?”
The distance between the two closed completely. The swarm of shadows born from the cloak's shade began to rejoice wildly.
Like a school of piranhas that had scented blood in the water.
「Hungry, hungry, so hungryyy!」
「Can we eat? Can we eat?」
「Let us eat quickly!」
At the cries of the starving shadows, Dale smiled softly. Then he muttered coldly.
“—Don't eat too much.”
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. An artifact for an artifact.
With those words, the swarm of starving shadows began to crawl up Elbert's ankles, as if hundreds of dark snakes were coiling around him.
“Ah, aaargh, aaaaaargh!”
He struggled and thrashed madly, but it was already too late.
The swarm of living shadows opened their maws.
Kaaang!
The moment a ‘valid hit’ was registered, the ‘Life Point Necklace’ on Elbert's neck activated its shield magic and shattered.
But against the endlessly starving swarm of shadows, there was little a mere shield spell could do.
The Life Point Necklace cannot guarantee the challenger's life and safety one hundred percent.
“Ah, I'm still not used to controlling these things.”
Dale feigned ignorance and smiled as if it had nothing to do with him. A very cold smile.
“Aaaargh, aaaaaargh!”
An ear-splitting scream echoed.
Crunch, rip, tear.
The hungry shadows tore at his ankles, his chest, his shoulders—ripping flesh, tearing bites, and drinking blood. They carefully avoided vital spots and major organs.
A feast unfolded, painful enough to make him wish for death, but not enough to grant it.
He had to show them.
The difference in power that none would dare defy, and the fear born from that difference.
At last, when Elbert's body was torn to shreds, barely clinging to life, Dale finally muttered.
“Retreat.”
The rampaging swarm of shadows gathered at Dale's feet in unison.
A silence fell over the gruesome scene.
The spectators were speechless, of course, and even the black mages of the Black Magic Tower could only remain silent, at a loss for words.
But this was the way of House Sachsen, and furthermore, the way of Lord Black.
For that reason, no one could dare doubt that Dale was ‘the most rightful heir of Lord Black’.
* * *
—The Tower's Trial, 11th floor.
Magic Duel Tournament, Second Round.
“I, I declare my defeat!”
Third Round.
“I forfeit! I forfeit!”
And so on, until the final match.
“I want to live...”
With the exception of that single match, all of Dale's victories were by default.
It was a truly anticlimactic ending, but considering the fate of Elbert, who had dared to try and prove himself against Dale.
They had likely made the best decision they possibly could.