True Name Release
The Five Great Mages of the continent.
In the most literal sense, it was a title reserved for the five strongest mages alive — and those five names alone were enough to make any mage on the continent fall silent.
The woman hailed as the strongest mage of the age: Magic Tower Master Lilis Direanne.
The Cardinal of the Void Cult, infamous for crimes no human being should ever commit: Maltas.
The youngest Magic Knight Captain in the history of the elves: Serian Elion Orphelier.
The vampire known as the Witch of the Forest: Erdia Caligon Morgana Nosferatus.
And last, the royal mage of the Lumina Kingdom, a man whose achievements filled volumes of history: Edgar Marenard.
Of every mage who had ever walked this land, only five had been chosen. Only the strongest five. That was what the title meant.
And Edgar stood among them without apology or doubt.
Which was precisely why he could not, by any stretch of reason, make sense of what Elia had said — that if she defeated him, he would allow her to travel.
Yes, Elia was already stronger than most mages. Edgar knew that well enough. But he also knew she was not yet ready to stand shoulder to shoulder with those who were called truly great. He had sparred with her only recently, more than once. He knew exactly where she stood.
Has her confidence simply run away with her…?
That was the suspicion that settled in him — that his daughter might have come to believe too completely in her own strength.
Step. Step.
"…"
But no matter how carefully he studied the face of the girl walking beside him, he found none of that arrogance there. The Elia he knew would never have worn such a feeling to begin with.
Then where in the world does that confidence come from…
He was still turning her words over when they arrived at the training grounds. Perhaps because the New Year had only just passed and winter still held the air, a cold draft slipped through the gaps in the door and prickled at his nose.
Elia and Edgar entered first. Gaen, Henry, and Sheryl followed, each wearing a different expression as they took up positions along the wall. They, too, clearly could not make sense of what was happening. Their daughter and sister was standing before one of the Five Great Mages of the continent and calmly predicting her own victory. Of course they looked at a loss.
"…"
"…"
"…"
Their faces were different, but a single emotion rose the same on all three: worry. This sparring match existed for one reason only — Elia's condition that she would leave on a journey instead of enrolling in the Magic Tower. Edgar, who opposed that idea with every fiber of his being, would not hold back the way he usually did. He would fight her at full strength. And none of the three could picture Elia remaining on her feet against that.
So the worry for her sat plain on every face. Sheryl, in particular, was fretting so hard she had begun unconsciously chewing at the nails she always took such care of.
Whether Elia noticed their concern or not, she simply picked up a Dreamwood Wand from the training ground, settled into her stance, and faced Edgar with a look that already seemed resolved.
"Then shall we begin, Father."
The words that opened a sparring match with her entire future riding on it.
Leaving without enrolling in the Magic Tower. Taking to the road instead.
I had made that decision a long time ago. From the start, my plan had been simple: once I had received everything my family was willing to give me, I would skip the Tower and set out on a journey.
And if anyone asked why, there were two reasons.
The first was the one I had already told Father over the meal — there was nothing left for me to learn at the Magic Tower.
What exactly am I supposed to study there?
The curriculum covered how to grow a mana circuit, how to cast intermediate and advanced magic, how to fight monsters — that sort of knowledge. But I already possessed an upper-middle mana circuit, past the level of a Tower graduate. As for elemental magic, I could use every spell I had once cast in the game, reshape them, and invent new ones on top of that. And when it came to monsters, traveling and fighting them myself would teach me dozens of times more than any lecture ever could.
Besides, the textbook knowledge they taught at the Tower was something I had finished years ago through Father's early education. The only real advantage left would have been connections — and I was not going to become a royal mage like Henry, nor a Tower-affiliated mage like Sheryl. What did I need a network for?
On top of that, seven years of continuous contact with Camilla had already made us close enough to drop formality and speak freely in private. Having a member of the royal family as a friend meant I had no need to go hunting for connections at the Tower.
In short, the Magic Tower would be nothing but a waste of my time.
And the second reason, separate from all of that, was this: I needed to fully reclaim the power that had once been mine.
Not just level, mana circuit, and elemental understanding — I still need the Elemental Stones to complete the staff, and the equipment I originally used.
Simply training myself would only restore my level, my mana circuit, and my understanding of the elements. The gear I had once possessed would not come back on its own. I would have to go out and find it with my own two feet.
I had already recovered the frame of the Ego Staff, at least. What remained were the Elemental Stones to slot into it, and the rest of my old set — the robe, the headpiece, the boots, and so on. That was why I wanted to travel instead of enrolling.
I still remember exactly where I obtained every piece of that equipment.
Of course, this world was no longer a game. There was no guarantee the items would still be waiting where I remembered them. But going and finding nothing still seemed better than giving up without ever trying.
And to leave on that journey, the only thing I had to do right now was defeat the man standing in front of me.
…I'm shaking more than I expected.
I would be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. Father's name sat among the five strongest on the continent, and unlike every spar we had ever had before, he was deliberately letting his presence press down on me in full. Anyone standing where I was would have felt the same tightness in their chest.
But even so, the thought that I would lose never crossed my mind. I steeled myself and opened my eyes.
"Then shall we begin, Father."
It was a secret I had never meant to show anyone. A skill I had planned to use only in the most desperate of situations, and only when I was prepared to kill every enemy in front of me.
But for the family standing here, at least, I was certain I could let them see it — a certainty without any real proof behind it, and yet one I could not shake. Trust. That was enough. I parted my lips and spoke, slowly.
"…My name is Zelia."
Skill True Name Release has been activated.
The activation phrase of the skill that would let me, still far from my original power, defeat the father standing before me left my mouth in a low murmur.
And in the next instant—
───!
An intangible presence that crushed everything in its range swallowed the entire grounds whole.
Adria, the Mother of Magic.
Records of her were plentiful, but every person who had actually seen her had long since been buried under the weight of centuries. It had already been hundreds of years since her death, after all.
So when Edgar, researching her past, kept encountering the same phrase across every document — the sensation of standing before a god — he had never quite been able to grasp what it meant.
No one in history or the present day had ever seen a god with their own eyes. Even the Pope and the Saintess had only ever received oracles; none of them had beheld the divine itself. And yet those who had witnessed Adria in battle had written, with remarkable consistency, that if a god existed, it would be a being like her.
But what kind of sensation was that supposed to be? Edgar had never seen a god, and he had never seen Adria. No matter how vivid his imagination, abstracting a feeling he had never experienced was simply impossible.
Until now.
Standing dazed in the training grounds after Elia had excused herself and gone ahead, Edgar finally understood, if only a little, what those writers had meant.
"What in the world was that…"
A sensation that ordinary language could not hold. Edgar had faced countless powerful opponents in his life, but against the presence Elia had unleashed only moments ago, he could not find so much as a speck of hope for victory. It was not a difference of skill. It was a difference of rank — absolute, crushing, and impossible to argue with. And that difference had come from his own daughter.
"Heh…"
A hollow laugh slipped from Edgar's lips as he stared blankly into empty air. There were so many things he wanted to ask her. But Elia had only said she would explain everything properly tomorrow, and then she had vanished.
Now that his mind was slowly returning to him, there was only one thing left for Edgar to do.
"First… I should get a little sleep."
It had lasted only a moment, but the strain it had put on his spirit was enormous. Rest was the only answer. Edgar began to drag his feet toward his bedroom, one heavy step at a time.