First Skirmish: The Wand Slips Away Again

The explosion from the first clash reached the seal in less than a minute. Thanks to Sylvia's magic.

With wind infusing her steps, each stride covered ten meters. It felt like the ground itself was folding beneath her. By the time they arrived at the seal, the first thing they spotted was the kin hidden in the swampy marsh. It had tried to conceal itself, but unfortunately, its opponents were them. Crude cover like that was useless against those who had fought in the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Maou War firsthand.

"Sylvia!"

"I know, even without you saying it!"

The trees around the marsh simultaneously extended their roots toward the kin. The moment the roots coiled around its body, Olivia chanted her spell.

Swinging the hand holding her pistol, five massive lances of light materialized behind her back.

The hovering lances began spinning furiously and accelerating—

"Hold on tight...!"

Reaching toward the sky, a cross-shaped brand etched itself onto the back of her left hand. Proof that control of the lances had transferred to her. Sensing danger, the kin thrashed its tentacles to break free, but this was the heart of the southern great forest, famed for its dense woods. Sylvia chanted once more.

"Where do you think you're going!"

The roots bound the kin's body even more tightly. To target its head, she kicked off a boulder and leaped.

"Hah...!"

Midair, she slammed down her left hand, branded with the cross. Ping! With a chilling whoosh, the furiously spinning lances of light tore through the darkness in unison. The launched lances left vivid trails in the dark forest heart, hurtling straight for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the kin's head. BOOM-BOOM-BOOM! A half-beat later, consecutive explosions echoed from beneath the lake.

"It's down."

The kin in the water showed no more movement. Landing lightly on the boulder, she spotted the entrance to the seal. And standing before it was a single black mage.

"That guy's..."

Holding the Fallen Apple Wand. The moment she recognized it, he raised the wand. The forest fell silent.

"...!"

It felt like the whole world had frozen. Time slowed, the surroundings stretching like taffy. Stars began twinkling. As if lights had flicked on in the pitch-black night sky. Like being tossed into the heart of space in a sci-fi movie. In the warped space, earthly things lost form, while things from beyond the world gleamed. Amid it all, the only ones retaining their shapes were the Fallen Apple Wand and the black mage. That's dangerous. Her instincts as a living being screamed it.

"Sylvia, be careful...!"

Shouting urgently, she aimed her pistol at the ground. Dozens, hundreds of magic circles she could deploy flashed through her mind. Trusting the battle sense honed in the Maou War, she pulled the trigger without hesitation. Fifth chamber. Aquamarine core. Releasing the pre-stored spell from the chamber.

Click.

With the hammer striking the chamber, green light erupted.

Particles burst from the embedded seed, explosively growing into a massive tree—large enough to shield both her and Sylvia. The moment the spell completed, she yanked Sylvia inside the tree's barrier. A half-beat later, the stars fell. The twinkling night sky unleashed pale beams crashing down. The beam striking right before the tree carved a massive crater, mercilessly ravaging the forest. That was the signal. Meteors rained down relentlessly, battering the newborn World Tree's leaves.

"Ugh...!"

Leaning against the tree, she thought quickly. Was the opponent the Maou himself? Or just a black mage wielding the Fallen Apple Wand? She couldn't tell yet. With the robe obscuring him and barrages falling, poking her head out recklessly would be suicidal. She needed a wildcard.

"Sylvia!"

"Yeah, sis!"

"How long to cast a strategic-grade spell?!"

Sylvia thought for a moment before answering promptly.

"30 seconds! Buy me at least 30!"

To stall 30 seconds against the strongest wand in history? Simple. Overwhelm with superior firepower. And where to find greater firepower?

"I'll buy you 30 seconds!"

Shouting that, she swung her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠left arm.

Like a game inventory, items she could deploy instantly materialized with a shhh. The one at the front: a bolt-action rifle-shaped weapon and a few wands she'd crafted. Pulling them out, the storage dissolved into particles.

"Draw your magic circle! I'll buy time quick!"

"Ugh, what's that?!"

"I've got stuff like this! You think I spent 300 years holed up doing nothing for prep?"

The air-splitting barrages drowned their voices somewhat, but communication was possible. Hearing her, Sylvia began drawing her circle without argument. Watching, Olivia broke open the rifle's barrel. Shoving wands into the magazine where bullets would go, she loaded it.

"Sorry for using you like this."

Whispering to the wands, she raised the rifle. A weapon that unleashed a wand's lifetime mana output in one burst. Extreme in use, its power dwarfed gunpowder and lead slugs. Single-use was the drawback, but—

"No time to nitpick now...!"

She could remake them if needed. BOOM! The World Tree shuddered under the barrage. Green particles flaked off like a collapsing building on the verge, the tree's color fading. Just before it shattered, she dashed out and aimed at the enemy. No hesitation. Aligning sights on him before he could cast next, she fired.

--------!!!

Pure mana beamed out like a laser. He threw up a barrier late, but couldn't stop being shoved back. The white flash hurled him to the opposite cliff.

"Now, Sylvia!"

"Got it, sis!"

The great forest stirred. Thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of years of life energy converged on Sylvia. The gathered energy enveloped the Fallen Apple Wand's wielder. Countless roots entangled the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠man, plants absorbing his emitted mana en masse. When the midnight beam faded, only a fainting man bound by plants remained.

"...Subdued?"

"Yeah, sis. Looks weak at a glance, but... this seal channels the whole forest's power."

Sylvia continued proudly.

"Any mana he emits gets purified by the forest, and breaking free won't be easy. With this vast life force suppressing him, even the Maou couldn't escape easily."

"Good job."

In peaceful times, she'd have patted her head, but not now. Discarding the melting-barrel rifle, she drew her pistol and approached. Even thorough seals couldn't predict black mages' irrationality. Who knew what he'd pull next?

"...?"

But contrary to worries, the black mage was meekly captured. Seemingly unconscious. Mana exhaustion? Or from her attack plus Sylvia's seal? Didn't matter. Just recover the Fallen Apple Wand.

"But..."

Where was the wand? Not in his hand. Not dropped, nor burned by her attack—it wouldn't melt from that. Conclusion: escaped, like 300 years ago.

"Hah, never easy."

Muttering, she holstered her pistol. Primary goal achieved. Dealt with the 5th Circle kin summoned via Porvin village massacre, protected the seal from imminent attack. But... the Fallen Apple Wand fled again. Half-victory.

"Let's head back. No point lingering."

Still, gains weren't zero. Her new weapon worked on him. And even if the Maou revived, he wasn't whole yet. Enough. Plenty of time before she ensnared the academy students.

"Gotta prep for practicals."

Saying that, she took Sylvia's hand. Space folded, teleport's eerie float enveloping them.

Wilson, merchant from the Eastern Union Kingdom, brimmed with anticipation. Finally, chance to supply goods to Arcana Academy's Eastern Union dorm. Selling to future nobles—upper crust of the Union—was a merchant's dream.

Maybe that's why. He approached the pitch-black wand on the floor.

Normally, he'd ignore it, but Wilson was in high spirits. Uncharacteristically, he picked it up for good deed.

"Who drops a wand so carelessly here?"

Muttering, he gripped it—

"Guhk...!?"

Instantly, black slime engulfed him. His end.

The Apple Wand that devoured guard Wilson looked down at its new body. No magic traces. No black magic talent. Doubtful against even one academy professor, let alone Olivia. Pathetic compared to its prior gifted host. After 300 years of failures wearing it down, chances dwindled. Fleeing, possessing—reaching limits. Master had to revive fully within that. Irritated at wasting a precious shot, it glanced around—then spotted papers on Wilson's desk.

'Wilson's' affable face twisted into a grotesque grin.