Chapter 51: The Magic Society (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 51: The Magic Society (4)
A mage belonging to the Green Tower, he was the man who had witnessed in real-time the unruly brat Penia turning into a gentle lamb before Count Palatio just yesterday.
Killam, a 5th Tier mage and the master of Milan—the mage Penia had apologized to—had initially harbored a small doubt regarding Count Palatio.
That doubt concerned the Count’s actual strength.
Of course, Killam had not yet reached the 6th Tier, where one achieves the "Awakening" of the "Eye" that allows a mage to discern an opponent's true power just by looking.
However, at the 5th Tier, one’s sensory perception becomes acute enough to gauge the mana possessed by others to some extent. To Killam’s eyes, Count Palatio’s mana seemed far too meager.
Naturally, he knew that for a mage, knowledge was paramount.
No matter how large one's Mana Hole was, it was meaningless without the knowledge to utilize that mana.
Yet, no matter how brilliant one’s knowledge might be, if their innate mana was fundamentally small, they simply could not cast magic. Thus, a natural suspicion had arisen.
He wondered if all the rumors surrounding the Count were perhaps fabrications created by the man himself to bolster his own reputation.
Of course, seeing the transformation in the bratty Penia made him wonder if he had misjudged, but his observations at the arena today confirmed his initial assessment.
Count Palatio’s mana was far too weak for him to be the protagonist of such grand rumors.
And he wasn't the only one harboring these doubts.
"Hmm. No matter how I look at it, judging by his presence, his Tier doesn't seem that high. What do you think?"
"I'm thinking the same. To say his Tier is high... his Mana Hole seems excessively small."
"...Tsk. As I thought, it was all nonsense. I suppose he made it all up for the sake of his own prestige?"
"How pitiful for him. Getting caught up in a friendly match like this means all those rumors are about to be exposed."
Sure enough, the other 5th Tier professor-level mages gathered with him all expressed their doubts as they sensed Alon’s presence.
That was, until the Frozen Ground blanketed the arena.
““……””
Every mage fell into silence.
The low-tier mages, who until a moment ago had expressions full of curiosity.
And the 5th Tier mages, who had been casting suspicious glances at Alon.
All of them stood there, mouths agape, staring at the scene.
However, the emotions the mages felt were different.
The low-tier mages looked on with expressions of awe at Alon’s magic.
The high-tier mages looked on with expressions of sheer horror.
It had happened in an instant, but they knew exactly what Alon had done.
Composite Magic...! And with three or more elements at that...!
Killam’s jaw dropped.
Of course, he could use Composite Magic as well, and there wasn't a single mage of the 5th Tier or higher here who couldn't.
However, to manifest a Composite Magic of three or more elements simultaneously, with near-perfection and without a single error, was something no one could claim to do with such confidence.
"Just how... how did he do it?"
The fact that Count Palatio’s mana was meager had already been erased from the minds of the 5th Tier mages.
In its place was the inquisitiveness that had brought them to the 5th Tier and a sense of reverence for the mage named Alon.
And at that moment, when everyone’s eyes were fixed on the arena...
"Crystallization."
Alon muttered softly as he formed a Hand Seal with his hands.
Simultaneously—
Crack!
Dozens of small spheres, roughly the size of hard candies, began to form throughout the arena.
"Rotation."
With that, the spheres that had been suspended in the air began to slowly and leisurely rotate clockwise.
Just as the mages began to wonder about the self-spinning spheres—
"Eek—!"
Baruc, who had been dazed by Alon’s magic, finally snapped out of it and began to prepare a spell.
It was a spell he prepared in haste, driven by the thought that if he did nothing here, he would be utterly humiliated rather than gaining any influence.
However, the other mages either questioned or frowned as they saw the magic Baruc was preparing.
"That's—"
"...Kemalan?"
It was only natural, as the magic Baruc was attempting to use was one of the primary spells of the Purple Magic Tower—a blatant lethal spell that was never used in friendly matches.
But Baruc’s magic was never fired.
Cr-crack!
In the next instant, Baruc became an ice statue.
Every mage stared blankly, recalling the scene that had just unfolded.
In that split second while Baruc was preparing his magic, the small rotating spheres had instantly burst, turning Baruc into a statue of ice.
And with that...
"...Uh, uhhh... The winner of this friendly match is Alon Palatio...!"
The mage acting as the referee spoke in a dazed voice.
* * *
"That was truly incredible."
"By any chance, what was that Hand Seal you used earlier? Was it Ancient Magic?"
"I saw you using Composite Magic. How on earth did you construct the Array?"
Immediately after the match ended, Alon, leaving behind a disbelieving Baruc, headed up to the spectator seats, where he was bombarded with questions from mages for quite some time.
Of course, no one broke the unwritten rule among mages by asking about his proprietary magic, but through the deluge of questions, Alon realized something he hadn't known before.
Based on their conversation, the mages had absolutely no knowledge of the Hand Seals and Phrases Alon used.
...That's interesting.
Alon knew that the Hand Seals and Phrases he used were forgotten relics of an ancient era.
Even so, he hadn't imagined that there would be absolutely no information regarding them, which he found quite fascinating.
At any rate, while conversing with the mages and gaining this new insight...
"W-wait. What did you say? 3rd Tier?"
"...3rd Tier?"
"There's no need to be so humble. 3rd Tier, really."
"There's no way that's true."
He watched the mages take his revealed Tier as a joke, then finally escaped the arena with a sigh.
He toyed with the gauntlet on his left index finger—the item known in the game Psychedelia as the "Memory of the Black Eye"—with a satisfied expression.
It really is useful.
The ability of the "Memory of the Black Eye" was simple.
It allowed the user to arbitrarily store one of their "spells" and use it with a slight power-boosting effect.
In short, it was a form of enhanced "Memorize," but for Alon, this item was incredibly efficient.
The "Severe Cold" he had to use to bypass one of his Constraints took a heavy toll on him, as he could only use magic five times.
After using Severe Cold, he would only have two spells remaining.
However, by using the Memory of the Black Eye, Alon would be able to use all five of his spells in a combat situation.
And the magic amplification is quite strong, too.
He recalled how the Severe Cold felt twice as powerful as usual when he used it earlier, then shifted his thoughts.
The Fame of Snow Mountain seems quite good as well.
Thinking of the magic he had manifested earlier using the characteristics of the Sentence "Fame of Snow Mountain," Alon couldn't help but think back to "that thing" whose identity remained a mystery.
Back when "it" first taught him that Sentence, he hadn't fully understood what it meant.
He had only understood the Sentences already in his mind as things that simply enhanced magical power, without knowing the specifics.
However, after using magic through the Sentence "Fame of Snow Mountain" several times since returning from the desert, he had only recently realized what kind of effect it roughly had.
The effect of freezing the surrounding atmosphere when the manifestation of the magic ends.
Unlike simply twisting and altering the nature of the magic itself, it felt as though it was literally touching upon the Laws of the world, and he had manifested his magic today using that principle.
Is this what it meant?
He remembered being told that "Sentences are keys that can open specific doors to the Laws designated in this world."
...This is getting more and more interesting.
As he felt a deeper sense of inquiry into the magic that developed radically the more he learned about Phrases and Sentences, Alon glanced at the scenery outside the tower.
The sun was just catching on the mountainside, turning into a sunset.
Almost time.
Watching the sun slowly sink, Alon thought of the other item he needed to take from the Central Tower today and turned around.
* * *
The first night of the Magic Society.
"Count?"
"What is it?"
"Are you... really 3rd Tier?"
"I am."
"...Really?"
"Yes."
"Ah... okay. I'll take your word for it."
Rian, who clearly didn't believe a word Alon said, walked away with a look of disbelief.
"C-Count?"
"Penia?"
"I, I know that you are 3rd Tier, Count."
"...You do?"
"Yes, I know you're 3rd Tier...! Absolutely, without a doubt!"
"...?"
After Penia left, having emphasized Alon’s Tier no less than three times, late night arrived. Alon confirmed the moon was up and headed to the library.
Wrooom—!
He arrived once again at the quiet, deserted library, accompanied by a low resonance.
He entered the library, which felt somewhat eerie as only the blue moon in the sky illuminated it instead of lamps.
[Seeing as you've come up at this time, it seems someone was clever enough to solve my riddle.]
A deep, sonorous vibration echoed in his ears, making his body tremble involuntarily.
It wasn't that he sensed something; it was a purely instinctive tremor.
Like a weakling trembling before the strong, he felt a fear crawling up from within just by hearing the voice.
"I did."
Alon replied, forcibly suppressing the rising terror.
After all, the item he needed to obtain could only be acquired by meeting her.
And then—
[Ho. To not fall into a panic even after hearing my voice... impressive.]
Seeing blue mana begin to gather and take shape in front of him, Alon felt his palms grow sweaty.
He knew all too well the person who was about to appear before his eyes.
The first human to reach the 8th Tier since the forgotten Age of Gods—
The mage whom all mages during her lifetime called the "Primordial Cup" with reverence and admiration.
And the slaughterer whom the beings that plagued the world at the time called the "Eternal Terror" with fear and praise.
"...Archmage Heinkel."
As Alon muttered the name, the blue mana that had been formless just a moment ago instantly began to take shape.
Soon, a woman with a leisurely smile, wearing a pure white pointed hat and possessing blue eyes, appeared in the library before Alon.
The Archmage who was the Primordial Cup to mages.
And the Eternal Terror to those who disturbed the world.
Alon swallowed hard, his face a mask of tension.
Archmage Heinkel wasn't an enemy, but she had a somewhat eccentric personality; one wrong answer could provoke her wrath and lead to his instant death.
Thus, Alon mentally rehearsed several topics and words he must never say to her.
The first words from the Archmage, whose mere presence exuded a fundamental sense of intimidation despite her relaxed smile, were:
[Hieek...!?]
A whimper of pure terror.
"...??"
...A question mark bloomed in Alon’s mind.