The Golden Order
For the past thousand years, Almesia had never once been overwhelmed by anyone. Not when facing the King of Ghosts, nor when confronting the volcanic dragon. Yet now, she was clearly overpowered, shrinking back in fear. And the one doing it was a human who, compared to the years she had lived, had existed for barely an instant.
That human—Jain—turned his back, bit his thumb, and began drawing a protection array with blood. She recognized the distinctive shape. It was a healing ward. Soon, a pillar of white light surged up from the array enveloping Naelle. While performing the task, Jain casually exposed his back. Every instinct as a mage screamed at her to hurl a spell at that defenseless target, but for some reason Almesia could not bring herself to do it. All she could manage was to lean on her staff and hold herself upright so the overwhelming pressure would not crush her.
Still facing away, he spoke.
Almesia flinched at the low voice. It continued.
Almesia ground her teeth. To ask such a thing while staring straight at the staff clutched in her hand was blatant provocation.
"I am the Scales of the World Tree that presides over the sorcery of Elvenheim—a practitioner who has trained in magic for ages far beyond anything a nobody like you could ever touch!"
"Is that so."
He slowly turned to face her. His eyes were hidden behind shaggy bangs. He glanced at Naelle, then spoke.
"I'm a human with more than a few shortcomings, but this one thing I know for certain."
The next instant, the entire room flooded with golden light. Jain's bangs whipped about wildly in an unfelt wind, revealing eyes opened wide. Light erupted from the area around his heart, spreading in concentric circles that formed a massive ring and began rotating behind him like a halo. The multi-layered halo then unfurled like wings. Dozens of spell characters interlocked like gears within those circles, generating countless shapes. The sheer scale of the golden rings filled an entire wall of the tall chamber and still had room to spare, as if an entirely new golden barrier had sprung into existence.
A red mage capable of learning every skill, Jain was unmistakably a sorcerer at heart. His greatest confidence lay, of course, in magic itself. The spell he now deployed served as living proof.
That bastard has already mastered Terminus.
A small golden gleam sparkled at the nape of Jain's neck as well. The Serpent of Tyranny. In the original story, Terminus was treated almost like a debugging tool—a forbidden spell. Even the slightest interference could twist causality beyond recognition and drag the world's narrative into unimaginable directions.
So I have to steal it from her as fast as possible.
Presentation mattered for that. Without hesitation, Jain brought out the spell he had prepared for the final act.
The golden magic circles now floating around him were ones he had meticulously crafted for the battle against Balaxas.
In sorcery, I stand at the pinnacle.
Jain declared it with arrogance.
*
"Ugh!"
And the declaration was no empty boast. The four guards who had charged Jain at Almesia's command were cut down in an instant, unable to lift a finger. Every time they attempted a spell, a higher-tier sorcery erupted from the golden rings to nullify it, then struck them down.
Almesia had fallen into extreme panic the moment the fight began. The Serpent of Tyranny had already risen to fifty percent.
"What—what kind of insane sorcery is this!"
"It's called Golden Order. In your terms, it'd be something like the Wheel of Non-Action."
"Huh?"
"This is a magic circle that overlays every existing spell formation in the world. Because it's engraved on my heart, I can summon any sorcery I want with nothing more than a hand seal."
And when mana was poured into it and manifested outside his heart, the buffs were enormous—multiple casting, increased power, reduced cast time, auto-casting, and more.
Almesia practically screamed in denial.
"I've never heard of any such spell!"
"Of course you haven't. I created it."
Almesia's eyes flew wide, then she snorted.
"Nonsense. Spell creation is only permitted to those who have conquered the Abyss or the Great Mausoleum! Don't tell me you're some nameless conqueror of the Abyss?"
"Correct. Did you still choose to attack?"
The Serpent of Tyranny rose again. It had reached sixty percent now, the golden patterns climbing as high as her collarbone.
This Golden Order was a special reward granted only to those who fully cleared the world's two greatest labyrinths—the Abyss or the Great Mausoleum. It had been Jain's ultimate growth goal after possessing this world. In the original story, acquiring it had allowed him to achieve the feat of clearing Balaxas on his very first attempt.
"What an ugly lie!"
Almesia desperately refuted him and began chanting. A fist formed of pure cold burst from the tip of her staff and hurtled toward Jain. Instantly, an even larger fist erupted from the golden array and shattered hers to pieces. The destroyed fist exploded into hundreds of razor-sharp icicles that rained down on Almesia like hail. Her whole body was sliced open, blood flowed, and her clothes tore apart.
"Ugh!"
Almesia clenched her teeth and prepared the Crimson Flame Bird once more. The bird spread its wings and took flight, only to be devoured this time by the Hellflame of Baphomet that poured from the magic circles. It vanished without a trace. The fireball bearing the devil's seal flew straight at Almesia.
Her face turned deathly pale. She gathered every scrap of mana she possessed and raised a barrier. An ultramarine hemisphere floated up to envelop her. Yet Baphomet's Hellflame shattered it effortlessly and slammed into her body.
"Huuuugh!"
She had pulled together all her power to extinguish the flames, but the cost was severe. Her staff had lost its strength and reverted to a simple wand. Her stomach was charred black from the burns.
Almesia collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath. Jain's Serpent of Tyranny had now filled to seventy percent.
As Jain strode toward her, Almesia struggled with everything she had to stand. She failed and fell again.
"Why give up after only one try? Naelle endured it over and over."
At the sound of Naelle's name, Almesia ground her teeth audibly. Then she screamed as though in agony.
"That whore betrayed history!"
Jain's footsteps halted.
Almesia kept shouting.
"You wouldn't know! The crimes your ancestors committed! The sins your rulers inflicted on us! That's why you can shamelessly condemn us. This is justified revenge! The scales of justice are clearly tipped in my favor!"
"I know."
"What could you possibly—"
"That humans who grasp power are pathetic idiots—I understand that far better than you do."
Almesia fell silent. Deep remorse colored Jain's words. Overwhelmed, she found it difficult to speak further.
Jain quietly checked the Serpent of Tyranny. It had reached eighty percent.
Lowering his voice, he chose his next words with care.
"Even so, there were people who wished to repent for those sins. There were people who wanted to overcome the pain and offer forgiveness. And so, two individuals who desired to become friends came together."
Almesia glanced at Naelle. The words had reminded her of the elf's habitual speech.
Jain continued.
"Is there no room in your history for the reconciliation of such people?"
The Serpent of Tyranny had now climbed to ninety percent.
Jain drew an ice spear from the golden circles and spoke.
"Don't keep dragging history into this just because you lack the courage to stand on your own name."
Almesia bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. She was certain that taking that spear would mean the end. If so, she would at least finish things before it struck.
Grasping the wand, Almesia began drawing out every last drop of her mana. She intended to use Terminus at the brink of death—at the very least to sever their friendship before she died.
Blood-red spell characters rose from the wand's tip, forming chains that tangled and wove together. With each character she extracted, the magical achievements of a thousand years crumbled like a sandcastle. The price of forcing out such excessive mana alone.
"Ha!"
Devouring every accomplishment she had built across a millennium, Terminus was completed.
Almesia collapsed like a broken doll, letting out ruined, hollow laughter.
"No matter what... the rewriting of history is already finished. The friendship is over too."
Jain gave a small chuckle.
Was it the emptiness of having set down every spell? Or was it because the moment Almesia completed Terminus, the Serpent of Tyranny had filled to the very top? The forbidden spell she had gained by offering her entire life was now completely harvested, burrowing into Jain's mind.
"No. It's not over."
Almesia's eyes widened in shock. From Jain's fingertips, the exact same blood-red spell characters she had just extracted began pouring forth. He had cast Terminus and restored the history Almesia had altered in the blink of an eye.
The only difference was one thing. After casting Terminus, Jain had merely staggered for a moment as if dizzy; he did not appear to have lost anything significant.
"Why... why are you perfectly fine?"
Almesia screamed the question.
Jain, now holding Naelle in both arms, answered indifferently.
"Because I'm the pinnacle."
Almesia's rampage was thus successfully suppressed.
"So that's what happened."
In a tavern in Elvenheim. Seated at a corner table, Naelle finished her story while sipping honey wine.
Flora had grown worried after Naelle spent the entire day back in a drunken stupor and had offered to listen to her troubles. She now asked in utter disbelief.
"Just from the story, it sounds like the mood was actually quite nice. What on earth did you do in that situation to make everything fall apart so catastrophically?"
Flora already knew the inside details of how the hero party had been dismantled. Even so, her mind could not comprehend how such a heroic tale could end in something so absurd.
Naelle, who had been taking small sips of her drink, spoke again in a gloomy voice.
"And then Almesia was arrested... and that evening there was an after-party, you know."
"Yes."
"I drank a lot there."
"And?"
"I was so happy that I kept clinging to my friends, saying we should drink more, drink more."
Fidgeting, Naelle hung her head and continued.
"Especially to Jain... I clung to him a lot and made him drink a ton... but for some reason he didn't refuse? He kept saying he was sorry for miscalculating something... So that was the first time he passed out, you know?"
"Yes."
"And I passed out at the same time, so I don't remember anything. But..."
Still fidgeting, Naelle traced meaningless patterns on the table with her finger.
"The next morning... I woke up in his room."
"What?"
At the unexpected confession, Flora's eyes widened in shock.