Meteor Strike from the Void
Is Meteor Strike a fire spell? Or a summoning spell?
The place we'd been transferred to was an endless wasteland of yellowish dirt stretching out forever.
"You guys started it first?"
I'd been waiting for them to launch the first strike, but I hadn't expected them to deploy such a massive barrier.
But with space attributes involved, tricks like that held no meaning.
The supplementary effect of my unique sorcery, Dimensional Arrival.
The right to move freely.
Even dimensions couldn't stop me—I could never be halted, no matter the situation.
"...What the hell method did you use? How did you break through a multi-layered phase barrier? Even a special grade sorcerer would've struggled for days to escape that thing!"
"If you slipped out of a barrier like that with just a finger snap, shouldn't your first move be begging for your life, even if it's hopeless?"
Snap.
I flicked my fingers right in the face of the guy who hadn't fully grasped the situation, and it was hilarious how he flinched back a step.
I'd sent Ren and her escorts back to the academy, leaving just 50 Gongmyeongdang sorcerers and 8 from Hwaseong Group.
Now facing them alone, I cracked open a fissure above my head.
- Viiiing.
A crude sniper rifle equipped with a camera and propeller burst from the fissure.
The shikigami that had terrorized them all day was back, firing a red laser pointer straight at their foreheads.
"Eek!"
"Damn it! We can't open an escape route...! Does that mean this whole place is Siwoo Gong's domain?!"
The Gongmyeongdang sorcerers lost it the moment they saw the shikigami again, convulsing like they were trapped in a nightmare.
Space was a top-tier concept among abilities, but that meant hierarchies were crystal clear even among sorceries.
It wasn't about raw power intensity—it was the precision of the formula that mattered, leading to this massacre.
Especially since my refined formula held absolute dominance over the originals.
Bang—!
Like this.
The guy who'd been carelessly spitting out my name exploded in a spray of red guts with the gunshot.
"How can you be so chill in a situation like this? You're the ones who got kidnapped in reverse. From here on, it's self-defense."
"The 1st grade section chief went down in one hit...?"
"No way! Does that mean his formula outclasses ours by miles?!"
That was exactly why I'd leaked Void Resonance Art without holding back.
Even a crude 3rd grade shikigami like this could effortlessly dismantle fellow users.
"I didn't expect to hand you such a perfect excuse on a platter. What the hell am I worth that you'd waste rare talismans just to kill me?"
"..."
What I'd prioritized most wasn't the fight—it was securing justification.
No matter how discreetly I handled it, there were retrospection sorceries that could read past memories, or ones that pierced lies.
Plenty of room for outsiders to meddle.
In this modern world, it was unavoidable if I wanted a smooth, crime-free life.
But they'd bypassed that hassle with a multi-layered phase barrier.
Originally meant to trap anomalies without a trace, it was top-tier since even I hadn't detected it.
My brow furrowed at the fact they'd used such a rare, barely-produced talisman just to assassinate me.
"Overkill. Way too much for some guy excommunicated from Gongmyeongdang."
"No words for you. Fact is, you're dying here...!"
Even in this twisted mess, he didn't bow his head, burning with killing intent.
The man cloaked in thick black flames—Hwaseong Group's signature—stepped forward boldly, his comrades following suit.
Rather than wary of the new location, he'd judged eliminating the guy who created this situation took priority.
"I'll end you with my own hands... Gah?!"
"My body won't move...?"
But I didn't allow them to move further.
They froze in dynamic poses, like taxidermy specimens, him and his crew.
"You asked where this is? I haven't used anything but Void Resonance Art so far."
"No way... It can't be...!"
Space interference forbidden to anyone in Gongmyeongdang.
Yet only I was free of that restriction in this setup.
And now Hwaseong Group's leaders were forcibly halted—an unnatural turn.
His face twisted in disbelief as he voiced the conclusion.
"This massive space... it's your personal subspace?! You, not even special grade, couldn't possibly...!!"
"What kind of sorcerer denies his own firsthand experience?"
Subspaces were typically inventory-like storage tech.
Usually just enough for one or two containers.
But the one I'd invited them to was a full mini-world, complete with soil and sky.
A world of my making, impervious to trivial multi-layered phase barriers.
The motif for this hastily crafted subspace, post-binding release, came from a famous work of fiction.
"You're right—I'm not special grade yet. ...But."
Bang—! Bang—!
"Agh, aaaah!!"
"Don't engage—run! Defense formulas are useless! Just evade until those guys kill Siwoo Gong...!"
The Gongmyeongdang sorcerers who hadn't frozen scattered like baby spiders, unable to handle even one shikigami.
All 2nd grade or higher, yet crushed by the overwhelming gap.
Still miles from special grade pinnacle.
My realm? Generously, 1st grade equivalent.
Why the disparity? Simple.
"Sloppy. Your sorcery is."
Bang—!
Another head burst with the sharp crack.
Decades-honed power and formulas looked like hole-riddled cheese to my eyes.
The more magic theory I absorbed from Estella, the clearer it became: sorcery was no different from emotional prayer.
Post-reincarnation genius bloomed by cherry-picking merits from disparate systems.
Like abacus drudgery versus calculator ease.
Irreconcilable skill gaps warped our perspectives hopelessly.
"Insolent brat running your mouth!!"
A grating roar shattered his feigned composure, face flooding with rage and shame.
Soon, resolve hardened, and ominous power leaked out in massive quantities.
He began chanting loudly, ensuring everyone heard.
"My foe is no trifling enemy! To safeguard Hwaseong's lineage, I offer this body in resolve...! Grant me the power to annihilate my enemy, at the most unjust price...!"
Blood-red power erupted violently with ill omens.
The formula binding him shattered under the rampage.
"A binding?"
A technique imposing restrictions on the target, prepaid with equivalent cost by the caster.
Not sorcery—a skill.
Anyone could use it, but not unprepared in a crisis like this.
Hwaseong secret art? Or handed down by some shadowy backer?
"...Grant me the power to annihilate my enemy...!"
"...Grant me the power to annihilate my enemy...!"
As he moved, the other seven followed, chaining bindings.
My subspace control failed— their power amplified unnaturally.
Purple-glowing eyes fixed on me creepily.
"...That's right. This is the simplified binding technique the family head taught us."
"The most unjust price we bear is merely answering your questions truthfully."
They encircled me, each piping up.
The binding's constraint: truthful answers to my queries.
Weaker than my sorcery-binding ban, a minor convenience limit.
If that was the most unjust price...
"First, answers to your questions."
"We received a prophecy that you'd become our greatest threat."
"That's the real reason we're hellbent on eliminating a punk like you."
Whoosh—!
As they spoke, car-sized black flames hurled desperately my way.
Intending to kill quick before the binding ended or I heard all and fled.
No reason not to listen, so I thickened the space layers and tuned in.
"This is no mere prophecy. His words are the gospel that perfected Hwaseong. Truth itself."
"Hah. Cult bullshit."
More absurd than expected.
Who the hell was "that one"? Seemed distinct from the family head.
So the shadowy puppetmaster was real, and Hwaseong mere loyal puppets.
Pure cliché plot.
"...But y'know, prophecy means fate, right?"
I pitied them as they frantically tried to incinerate me.
Blindly faithful to some prophecy, yet oblivious to how unnatural this was.
Or turning a blind eye despite knowing.
I didn't buy fate much, but if the "most unjust" price was spilling truth...
Versus something extreme like vegetative state...
Then charging me was suicidal—fate's verdict, no?
"Like playing with fire? Fine, join the fun."
Bang—!
The shikigami's gunfire cut off precisely at the 50th shot.
Only the eight before me remained.
I ignited my soul fiercely.
Conversion formulas activated, turning red power blue.
Mana.
Otherworld-exclusive energy.
The beast of potential—human soul—succeeded in generating it.
A tiny hexagram at my fingertips expanded to blanket the subspace sky.
Max-scale space magic, built on Void Resonance Art foundation.
The false sky cracked, revealing black void.
At its center, one glowing red meteor.
—Meteor Strike.
"Th-that's not something a mere sorcerer can do! What the hell are you...!"
"Not sorcery! No power fluctuation at all...!"
"What is that alien aura?!"
They didn't get much time.
Purple eyes dimmed, ominous power faded.
Even with the "unjust" price, free movement lasted barely a minute.
I left their pathetic frozen forms and soared up.
High enough the meteor wouldn't touch.
Soon, dark red smoke birthed a towering mushroom cloud.